Chapter 2

Mr. Lukens grabbed Max by the throat to keep him from calling for help and shoved him against the door. For a thin man, he was much stronger than he appeared. Max, completely bewildered, could only use both hands to do his best to keep enough pressure off of his throat to breathe. He kicked Mr. Lukens in the stomach, which made the older man release him and double over. Max kicked again just as his father’s employer reached for him again. This time, the blow struck Mr. Lukens’s head.
He tumbled down the stairs, grunting the whole way down. Max took a moment to catch his breath. He rubbed his throat, unable to shake the feeling of Mr. Lukens’s squeezing hands. He grabbed the doorknob and was about to wrench the door open when a dagger whizzed past his head. Max froze. The dagger was right in front of his face, its tip embedded in the door. It had a green handle and was bejeweled, but none of that mattered in the slightest.
“Tsk, tsk, tsk,” tutted Mr. Lukens, painfully rising off of the floor below. “Is that any way to treat your father’s kind and generous boss?”
“What do you want?” Max said, speaking slowly. He saw that Mr. Lukens had other knives in his hands and didn’t dare reach for the doorknob again.
“You know, Max,” Mr. Lukens said, ignoring the question. “That beautiful dagger in front of your face was meant to be a gift for your birthday. Pity it had to be used in this way.”
Max’s breathing was shallow. He realized that Mr. Lukens must be one of the Enemy, an ancient evil force determined to drown the world in darkness.
“You’re one of them,” he whispered, thinking out loud.
“Hmmm? Oh, yes. I suppose you could say I’m one of the Enemy. Since my cover has been blown, I think you should answer a few questions that I have for you, my dear Max, and everything will be fine and go back to normal.”
Max turned away from the door, trembling not from fear, but from the rage that was swelling up inside of him. He was angry at the fact that one of the Enemy had been around his father for so long. The presence that had been inside of him for as long as he could remember stirred, roused by the fury that was steadily mounting.
“Tell me why you were going through David's things. Why does he matter to you?” Max asked in an even voice. He was trying to think up a plan while distracting Mr. Lukens. He fought the adrenaline coursing through him.
“Oh, Max,” Mr. Lukens drawled. “Don't you know how special David is?”
Max tensed, not liking the way the man put an emphasis on the word special. Without thinking, Max tore the dagger from the door and flung it with all his might down the stairs at Mr. Lukens. He didn't wait around to see if it hit its target. He threw the door open and ran.
Max's first thought was to draw the threat away from any other students that might have been on the floor. He knew that he would be easily found so he sprinted for Ms. Richter's office. It had only been mere moments since he threw the knife at Mr. Lukens, but he could already hear footsteps pounding behind him, gaining quickly. Most of the students that lived on his floor seemed to be at the Sanctuary, taking care of their charges, and for that Max was grateful.
A knife flew past his head, coming within an inch of hitting him. It thudded into the wall in front of him and Max turned the corner as quickly as he could without hitting the wall or slipping. He was extremely close to the hallway that lead to the Director's office and that lent him speed. However, Max realized too late that the pounding footsteps were right behind him.
Mr. Lukens threw himself at Max and they both went tumbling down. Max cried out in pain as his knee hit the hard, wooden floor. The thin, yet strong, man flipped him over onto his back while fumbling for another knife. Max tried to kick his assailant but his legs were pinned down, as were his arms. He stopped struggling when a knife pressed against his throat. Mr. Lukens was applying so much pressure that blood was trickling down Max's throat. He tried not to swallow.
“Well, Max,” Mr. Lukens said, breathing hard. “I guess it's come down to this.”
Max couldn't speak, but he glared up at the face he used to know so well. He still couldn't fathom how his father's kind employer was one of the Enemy. When he had gone to work with his dad, Max remembered only good things about Bob Lukens. Now, he was not so sure he even knew the man that was pinning him down onto the cold, wooden floor.
“You're lucky I've received specific orders not to kill you. You're just as special as David, you know. Otherwise your head wouldn't be attached to your body anymore.”
Max's arms and legs were starting to go numb. He couldn't move an inch of his body. He was thinking about what was going to happen to him next when Mr. Lukens was thrown across the hall. Max struggled to get up, and when he finally got to his feet, he saw his roommate, David Menlo, standing with a hand outstretched. Mr. Lukens was pinned to the wall.
“David?!” Max said, incredulously. “How are you doing that?”
David's brow was furrowed in concentration, but his magical hold on Mr. Lukens wavered when Max spoke. Able to move slightly, Mr. Lukens threw yet another knife at Max's small friend. The knife spun through the gap between the third and fourth fingers that were splayed on David's right hand. That was enough to startle David into lowering his hands, thus severing the magic that had kept their enemy stuck on the wall. Mr. Lukens straightened up, grinning manically.
“Nowhere to run now, boys,” he said softly, toying with knives in both hands. He seemed to have an endless supply. His arms reared back to fling the weapons into the knees of the frightened boys, fully intending to injure them so that they couldn't run or fight back properly. The knives hurtled toward the two boys, perfectly aimed and thrown with just the right amount of lethal strength. The tips had barely touched the kneecaps of Max and David when they stopped in mid-air.
Ms. Richter stood in front of the hallway that lead to her office with a hand pointed at two of her students. The knives pulled away from the two twelve-year-old boys and flew toward their former owner. Mr. Lukens threw himself to the side to avoid the weapons that almost certainly would have ended his life. He picked himself up and sprinted away as if his life depended on it, which it did.
“Are you boys alright?” Ms. Richter asked, an extremely concerned look on her face. When David and Max both nodded, dazed, she offered them a small smile full of warm, matronly affection. Then she ran after Mr. Lukens. The boys both stood there, exhausted from all that had just happened. When they heard a girl's scream, however, they both ran after Mr. Lukens and Ms. Richter, fear giving them speed.
They rounded the corner and saw something that made both their jaws drop in horror. Mr. Lukens had Sarah in a tight grip, the dagger from Max's room pressed against her throat. He was grinning madly, knowing that he was now winning because of the bargaining chip he was holding close against him.