Matt Archer: Bloodlines (Matt Archer #4) (15 page)

Will drove the familiar route to Greenhill High. The school
didn’t look as dreary with the trees out front in full bloom. Or maybe it was
because I knew I wouldn’t have to go back there, at least not for a while. Will
and I were about a week away from finishing “school” online, so no point in
re-enrolling for the last six weeks…or so I planned to explain to Mom tomorrow.
I doubted she’d make me go, but I wanted her to know it wasn’t really up for
debate. I was too tired to deal with school right now.

Will’s BMW barely
vibrated as we made our way through the bumpy, pothole-filled student parking
lot. Phil, the security guard, gave a us a questioning look, but Will pointed
at his current student parking ID. He shrugged and went back to his metal
folding chair. For all he knew we had early release or had ditched a class
only to come back.

We circled the lot
until we found Ella’s car, then parked and walked over to it. Penn didn’t
drive, so they usually rode together. I sat on Ella’s trunk, facing the
school’s back exit. Will leaned against the passenger door. Neither of us said
anything while we waited for final bell to ring.

Once it did,
students rushed outside, eager to escape. A few people stopped to say hello
when they saw us hanging around, but most just ran by with eyebrows raised,
more interested in going home than figuring out where we’d been the last
several weeks and why we were here now.

Finally a familiar
redhead, keeping pace with a tiny brown-haired girl, exited the school. I slid
off the trunk and Will stood up straighter. It took them a minute to realize a
couple of strange guys were hanging out by Ella’s car and another twenty
seconds for Penn to stop short. Ella did as well, frowning my direction.

Penn let out a
squeal that probably could be heard in the International Space Station and
started running. Will laughed and braced himself for impact. Good thing,
because Penn launched herself a good three feet to land in his arms before
wrapping her legs around his waist, not seeming to notice his cast.

“Giant Will!” She
planted kisses all over his face. Then she pulled away and smacked him hard on
the chest. For someone so little, her hands packed a punch and Will winced.

“Ow! Destroyer,
what was that for?”

“For not telling me
you were coming home. Or that you broke your arm, you poor guy.” She peeked at
me over his shoulder. “Welcome back.”

Without another
word, she dropped to the ground, took Will’s good hand and started dragging him
in the direction of his Beemer.

I laughed, watching
them go. Will had his hands full, no doubt. Penn Stoyer had earned her
nickname; Destroyer was a force of nature in a teeny-tiny package. Never mind
that Will was fourteen inches taller and more than twice as heavy as she
was—Penn was master and commander of that relationship.

I turned to face
Ella. She stood ten feet away, just watching me. She was smiling, but there was
this almost hungry look in her eyes. I bet I had the same expression, because I
devoured her with a glance, taking in the long legs clad in a short skirt, the
hypnotic green eyes and her auburn hair in one long stare.

“God I missed you,”
I whispered.

She took a few
steps closer, like she wanted to delay touching me, to drag this out and make
it even better when we finally came together. “I missed you, too.” She
scrutinized my face. “Did you break your nose? It looks different.”

“Will broke it. But
that’s a really long story and I don’t want to talk about all that yet.”
Later…later I’d tell her everything. Right now, I just wanted to get my fill of
looking at her.

Ella drifted closer
still. “Looks like your ride is ditching you.”

Will and Penn were
already pulling out of the parking lot. Friday was Millicent’s day off, so
they’d have Will’s mini-mansion to themselves since his parents were never
home, which explained the hurry.

“I was kind of
hoping this gorgeous girl I have a serious crush on would give me a ride.”

She chuckled. “I
think Sami Weber is still inside somewhere.”

I groaned.
“Seriously? I’m back from a six-week op and you bring that up? You have a sick
sense of humor, Ella Mitchell.”

Now she came to slip her arms around my shoulders. Rising up
on her tiptoes to look me in the eye, she whispered, “I can only joke about it
because I know you’re mine.”

“I am that,” I whispered back before brushing my lips
against hers. Our breakup had been Tink’s fault. Going out with Sami was a
mistake I made all by myself. I was just glad that stuff was past us, so we
could be here now. The taste of Ella’s lips was intoxicating; the scent of her vanilla
shampoo told me I was home. It didn’t matter
where
I was, it didn’t
matter that I fit better on assignment than in my own house…here, with her,
I
was
home
. Finally.

Tink made a retching sound but didn’t give me a headache,
which is what she normally did when I kissed Ella. I couldn’t be sure, but I
was hoping she’d learned a lesson about throwing herself between us. Tink kept
saying she knew I needed to enjoy my humanity when I could. We’d see if she
meant it as soon as I could talk Ella into driving us someplace more private.

Tink continued fake-gagging in the back of my mind.

I pulled away. “Just a second.”

Ella gave me a bemused smile as I turned and said, “Hey, you
said you’d back off.”

Yes, yes. I’d just forgotten about the random hormone
spikes and the wild heart fluctuations. It makes me a little touchy. But, I’ll
disappear for now. I need some time alone to prepare for the next eclipse
anyway. Don’t mind me. I’ll be off keeping my mind on the important things
while you…emote.

She just had to bring up the eclipse. Talk about a mood
killer. Still, Tink faded from my mind like an old memory and all that was left
was the girl at my side.

Ella unlocked her car and we took off. I wasn’t sure where
she was going, and I didn’t really care, just so long as I could forget
everything but her for a while. While we drove, she filled me in on a few
school things—nothing important—and I knew she was getting it all out of the
way so I could talk when we stopped somewhere.

When we finally arrived at our destination, my heart took a
bounce. We were at the little park not far from her house, the one with the
pond where she gave me the St. Christopher medal. Now that it was spring, the
willows were green and their branches hung down around a trail that led to the water.

“Come on,” she said, hopping out of the car. By the time I
climbed out, she’d pulled a blanket out of the trunk. “This way.”

The blanket conjured up all kinds of wild thoughts and I
followed eagerly. I didn’t care if she was leading me into an active
volcano—she had my attention. “Where are we headed?”

She laughed. “Your voice totally cracked just then.”

“No, it didn’t.”

“It cracked again!” Ella said, laughing harder. “You must be
expecting something to happen out here.”

Should I tell her I had two condoms in my wallet? I’d almost
brought three, but that seemed like overkill. Or wishful thinking. “I’m just
glad to see you.”

She stopped to smile at me and I flushed all over. “I’m glad
you’re home. Now talk. This isn’t a very long hike.”

We wound our way around the pond while I tried to decide
where to start… “Will got possessed by a demon and broke my nose. My dad showed
up and we got attacked by more than a hundred monsters the night of the
eclipse. Then there’s the really weird stuff.”

Ella stopped and I ran into her. Without turning around she
said, “I have no idea which question to ask first.”

“Will’s fine. I had to stab him through the shoulder to get
rid of the demon, but it healed up pretty quick.”

She shook her head and led me into a copse of trees at the
far side of the pond. She stopped by a giant willow, parted the branches and
motioned me inside. The tree was old, so there was room for me to walk if I
stayed slumped over, and the swaying fronds reached the ground, making a
curtain that hid us from anyone who might pass by.

“How’d you know this was here?” I asked.

“Alyssa and I used to play out here all the time. We found
this tree when we were little and pretended it was our house.” She spread out
the blanket and sat with her back to the trunk of the tree. I plopped down and
laid my head in her lap.

“Better?” she asked.

I sighed and watched the tree sway with the wind. “Mostly.”

“I can tell a lot happened out there, but there’s something
you haven’t told me, something big.”

A statement, not a question. She always seemed to know when
I was more messed up than usual.

“Colonel Black’s dead. Along with several other guys. And a
few, including Dad, got hurt real bad.”

A long moment passed as the tree shivered in the breeze. If
I closed my eyes, I could pretend it was the ocean and that we were on vacation
on a beach, rather than lying on slightly damp earth near a pond full of frogs.
If I wished hard enough, maybe the colonel would be alive.

“It’s not your fault,” Ella murmured, bending to kiss my forehead.

“I know. It’s…” How could I explain the responsibility I
felt to avenge all of them without sounding like a bloodthirsty monster? Or
without confronting the bigger question: was I becoming a monster myself? How
the hunt seemed to be the only time I really felt alive, except when I was with
her? “I’m just wearing down. Tink pushed me harder than ever before—with good
reason—and it’s getting tough to recover all the way. Losing the colonel makes
it all so much worse.”

She ran her hand over my hair. “Then I’m glad you get a
break. Part of that’s selfish, by the way, because I hate every day you’re
gone.”

I smiled up at her despite the lump in my throat. “You make
coming home to a mess worth it.”

“A mess?”

I told her about all the family drama. By the end, her
eyebrows were scrunched together and she was petting my hair harder than
before. “I don’t know that this mess is yours to fix. I’m just glad you’re home
safe.”

Okay, maybe I should’ve made excuses for my family given
that I sprang Dad on them, so yeah, it really
was
my mess to fix. But I
liked being defended by Ella, to be the most important person to someone,
selfish and immature or not. “I love you.”

“I love you, too.” She lifted my head out of her lap so she
could stretch out next to me. “I feel like you need to talk more. The frown
lines on your forehead are still bad…but I’m done talking, at least for a
while.”

I rolled onto my side and gathered her close. “I’m done
talking for a while, too.”

And we didn’t, not for a full hour.

Ella had dinner plans with her parents so she dropped me off
at home around six with a promise to come over to Will’s with me tomorrow.
After she drove away, I stood on my front porch and stared at the door, already
feeling cold. Knowing she was gone, even if it was just for a few hours, made
it feel like the sun had gone too.

A flutter at the back of my head announced Tink’s return.
She sighed.
Perhaps you should go inside
.

“Not sure I want to.”

You had questions for him. Lots of them.

“Dad’s probably downtown by now.”

Don’t be so sure. Your brother is like a tick, unwilling
to let go. But he’s not the only one who wants your father to stay.

“Well, Mamie’s probably curious.”

Tink’s chuckle was full of mischief.
What makes you think
I meant Mamie?

Now that was interesting. Wondering what I’d find, I went
inside. The first thing I noticed, while standing in the entry trying to work
up the courage to go into the living room, was the absence of yelling. The
second thing was laughter. Not snorts or chuckles, but full on laughter.

And Mom was the one laughing.

As I rounded the corner, I found Dad holding court from the
recliner, his bad leg propped on a pillow. Brent sat on the couch in the place
closest to Dad, but Mamie sat at the other end, a faintly wary look on her
face.

Mom stood in the kitchen doorway, a smile on her face.
“You’re a complete rascal. Don’t think all this makes me less furious with
you.”

Dad twisted his neck to look at her around the side of the recliner.
“Doesn’t mean I won’t keep trying.”

Mamie sighed, then turned and saw me lurking in the corner.
“You’re home!”

She leapt to her feet and hug-tackled me, whispering, “This
has been the longest afternoon of my life. Please get me out of here.”

Of all the situations I thought I’d come into,
this
wasn’t it. “Let’s go upstairs.”

Without acknowledging the rest of them, I led my sister up
to my room. I grimaced at the sight of my twin bed. After weeks on an Army cot,
it was definitely an upgrade, but being six-three meant my feet hung off the
end. No matter how much I pestered Mom about getting a queen-sized mattress,
she merely said I’d be going away to college soon and I’d be in a twin bed in
the dorms. Secretly I thought her real reason was because I was the “baby” and
this was the only way she could pretend I was still little.

Mamie curled up at the foot of the bed, arms wrapped around
her middle. “He’s acting like he never left.”

“Dad?”

“Yes. He’s down there asking us to talk about school and
hobbies and telling funny stories about when Brent was little and making these
inside jokes only Mom gets.” She shuddered. “But just underneath his
‘family-man’ façade there’s this cold, calculating person that only I seem to
see and I get the feeling he’s playing chess to win, with all of us as pieces.
It’s bothering me.”

I settled down next to her. “Bugs me too. But you aren’t the
only one who sees it. I think Mom saw it all along, and when the charm ran
thin, she was done. I saw it, too, when we were under attack, and he can be a
scary bastard when the stakes are high.”

“What happened out there?” she asked. “You haven’t told me
anything.”

“Some of it’s too horrible to tell.”

She gripped my arm, her gaze piercing as always. “I need to
know.”

Yeah, she probably did. Mamie was inquisitive to a fault.
The question was…did I tell her about the dead kid? She was so tenderhearted, I
worried parts of my story would send her into a night-long crying spell, but
the way she stared expectantly at me told me I probably should. For some
reason, Mamie saw patterns not even Aunt Julie did, and she might be able to
crack the mysteries surrounding Nocturna Maura.

“How much did Aunt Julie tell you?”

Mamie looked away. “About the compound and the pentagrams.”

Ah, so she already knew about the kids. That was why she
wanted details from me. It was eating at her and she needed to make better
sense of things. “The colonel died.”

Tears welled up in her eyes. “I wondered. You were so…hollow
when you first arrived. He was a good man.”

“Yeah.”

“And I’m glad Ella was able to ground you some.”

I flushed. “That obvious, huh?”

“She’s the only person you’d go see and come home looking
more at peace.” Mamie dabbed at her eyes. “Now, let’s hear the rest.”

It took nearly an hour to tell her everything, by the end of
which the smell of chicken spaghetti had me drooling on my chin, but I didn’t
spare any details. I even told her about Dad’s compass and how he sniped for us
during the eclipse.

Oddly, that seemed to set her at ease. “What?” I asked.

“Hmm?”

“I tell you about Dad’s heroics and you look like I’ve given
you a birthday present.”

She smiled, one of those mysterious girl-smiles that told
you everything and nothing at the same time. “I expected the heroics. The
compass was a surprise.”

“So now you trust him all of a sudden?”

“No. But his actions today make more sense.” She patted my
shoulder. “I couldn’t figure out his motivation for being here. Now that I know
what it is, I can watch him easier.”

“You think he’s here for Mom?”

“He’s here for all of us, but mostly Mom.” Mamie stared at
my wrist, the one with the silver pentagram tattoo that Jorge had given me to
save my life and secure my destiny as a wielder. “His heart’s been torn for a
long time and he’s hoping to mend it. Maybe he knows the darker part of him is
a problem and is trying to leave it behind. Having something to love and hang
onto might save him.”

“You know, just when I think you’re this ultra-logical
super-brain you whip out some girlie sappy stuff and that picture is totally wrecked.”

She gave me a pretty hard shove for a person whose idea of
exercise was taking the stairs instead of the elevator at U of M. “I
am
a girl, silly. You and Brent may not notice, but guys on campus do.”

I clutched at my chest, feigning a heart attack. “If one of
them ever touches you—even with your consent—I’m going to kill him with my bare
hands. I’m completely serious.”

Mamie laughed, but it sounded a little sad. “Don’t worry.
I’m saving myself for something special.”

“The convent?” I asked hopefully.

“You’re terrible.” She stood and held out a hand, even
though I was pretty sure I’d knock her over if she helped me up. “Smells like
dinner’s almost ready and your stomach’s been growling like a dinosaur. I think
we should go down before you decide cannibalism is an acceptable form of
nutrition.”

“One thing before we go.” I took her hand but balanced my
weight and pushed myself up mostly on my own. “Any thoughts on the witches, or
anything? You’ve been going over the data with Julie for a few weeks now.”

Mamie’s expression grew guarded. Uh oh. “A few. Enough to
know this Ann Smythe, the head witch or whatever she’s called, is very, very
dangerous. It’ll take someone pretty strong to stop her.”

I was pretty sure she didn’t mean physically strong. “Like a
shaman or something?”

“Maybe.”

“Well, the people at that coven destroyed Dr. Burton-Hughes
and used her for their witchcraft. So that’s strike one on shamans.”

“Dr. Burton-Hughes wasn’t a shaman in the same way Jorge
is,” she said. “She knew something that scared them, but she didn’t
have…magic.”

There was that. Jorge definitely had magic, real magic. “If
we can catch this Smythe woman, maybe Jorge can interrogate her. Think that’s a
good idea?”

“It might be.” Mamie let out a slow, deep breath. “But
someone has to catch her first and that won’t be easy.”

No doubt. The thought of even trying to find her weighed on
me as we went downstairs. If anyone knew where she’d be, though, it was the guy
sitting in Mike’s old chair at the dinner table.

“Wondered where you two got off to,” Dad said, smiling.

“Just talking,” I muttered, taking my seat across from him.
Mamie sat next to me, and Brent took his regular spot, to Dad’s left.

“Anything interesting?”

Not one for boring chit-chat at the dinner table, I said,
“Yeah. What do you know about Ann Smythe?”

Mamie perked up next to me. “Oh, good. A real conversation.”

Dad’s jaw had dropped open a little, but he recovered
nicely. In fact, he recovered past the caricature of the good-natured father
and morphed into the expressionless spy I knew was always lurking just out of
sight. Even his voice grew colder and more clipped. “What do you want to know?”

“You know where she is?” I asked.

Mom settled in at the table, glancing around at us. “Why do
I get the feeling you’re about to talk shop?”

“Because we are,” I said.

Dad shook his head. “Only for a little bit. And to answer
your first question, no, I don’t know where she is. That’s what I was after
when I went to Perth. Leads to find her.”

“Think it’s possible to find her, though?”

“Back when I thought it was a regular investigation, I
would’ve said yes,” he said. “Now that I know how…skilled these people are, I’m
not sure. They have ways of camouflaging their trails that not even a
determined hunter can read.”

“Is that what you are?” Mamie asked softly, looking a little
scared. “A hunter?”

You could almost see Dad’s thoughts hiccup on that. It took
him a while to answer, and by the time he did, all of us were watching him.
“Yes, sweetheart. That’s exactly what I am. And I’m very, very good at it.” He
glanced at Mom, something pained in his expression. “Too good, some might say.”

Mom looked down at her plate, her mouth set in a hard line.

“What else are you?” Mamie asked.

If Dad was startled by the question, he didn’t let on.
“Anything the agency needs.”

At that, Mom stood, carried her plate to the sink and
disappeared. A moment later, the door to her office slammed shut.

Brent glared at Mamie across the table. “Just had to ask,
didn’t you?”

“Hey,” I snapped. “This is about all of us, not just you.
Mamie has every right to ask questions.”

Mamie laid a hand on my arm. “It’s okay. Besides, I don’t
want to clean food off the walls again.”

“Again?” Dad asked, looking pointedly at Brent.

“It’s nothing,” he muttered, stabbing a piece of chicken
with his fork. “Everybody eat.”

He was wrong; it wasn’t nothing. But I wouldn’t gain
anything by starting another brawl at the dinner table except Mom’s ire and a
lot of bruises. Instead, I stared at my plate and finished my food.

Mom never came out.