Matt Archer: Bloodlines (Matt Archer #4) (21 page)

God, I hoped not. But when I relayed the message to Mamie,
she hugged her arms to her chest. “I think she may be right. We’re all in
danger.”

“But what does it mean?” I asked.

 Tink answered for her.
It’s starting.

“What’s starting?”

Mamie lifted her chin. “The end.”

On the Wednesday after the eclipse, Mom brought Brent home
to recover from his surgery. He was pale, with his arm in a sling and a scowl
on his face. He didn’t say two words to Mamie or me before going upstairs and
slamming his bedroom door shut. His stereo started thumping the ceiling a few
minutes later.

“Tough flight?” Mamie asked.

Mom sighed. “Tough everything. He’s out for the season, and
he’s probably going to miss a good three weeks of school, so we’re trying to
decide if he withdraws for a semester or not. He’s…not happy.”

No doubt. Football was Brent’s everything, and Washington
State was having a good year. If he couldn’t play, he’d miss their bowl game,
too. I decided I’d steer clear for a while.

Mom dropped into a kitchen chair. “Mamie, I’m sorry for not
being here when you got home. Mike filled me in on everything…are you okay?”

“I’m fine,” she said.

I snorted. “I’m okay, too.”

She reached out and swatted my arm, smiling. “You’re
awesome.” The smile switched to a frown in a heartbeat. “But if I ever catch up
with whatever is after my children, I’m going to try to smash it into
oblivion.”

There wasn’t much chance of that, but she could dream,
right? “We’re working on it. For now, the priority is keeping Mamie safe.”

My sister rolled her eyes. “I’m capable of taking care of
myself.”

“I know, but you could take better care of yourself if you
were surrounded by armed guards 24/7.”

She cocked her head to the side. “Okay, Uncle Mike.”

Ouch. “Hey, I left you by yourself to go visit Ella.”

“Were her parents home?” Mom asked.

I chose not to reply to that; Mom looked beat and I bet her
temper fuse was shorter than a toothbrush bristle. “The point is, I’m
withholding judgment on the armed guard thing until I talk to Jorge and Ramirez
tonight.”

Mamie glanced at her watch. Yes, she actually wore a watch
instead of telling time by her cell phone like the rest of us. “An hour and a
half. Just enough time for dinner.”

Mom looked at the messy kitchen and groaned. “I can’t face
cooking tonight.”

“Pizza’s on me,” I said, and was rewarded with a tired smile
when I put in the order—a large supreme for me, a large pepperoni for Brent and
a medium veggie for Mom and Mamie. Seriously, how they didn’t starve from only
eating four pieces of pizza—without meat—was a question without answer.

Once the food arrived, I took it upon myself to tell the
rage-beast upstairs. He’d probably yell, but he could take it out on me all he
wanted so long as he was nice—or, at a minimum, quiet—during dinner. Taking a
deep breath, I pounded on his door to be heard over the angsty metal he was
playing at max volume.

The stereo went from blast furnace to barely tolerable.
“What!”

“Dinner’s here.”

“Not hungry.”

“Dude, since when? I bought you a pizza. Least you can do is
come downstairs and pretend to eat it.”

The floorboards creaked under his footfalls. His door opened
a crack. “Not. Hungry.”

I wasn’t sure I cared whether he ate or not, but Mom did, so
I had to give it an actual try. “Mom and Mamie are worried about you. Come
downstairs for five, eat one slice of pizza, then I won’t bug you about hiding
in your room like some emo jerkwad.”

He opened the door more and I instantly felt like crap. From
the swollen, bloodshot eyes, he was more torn up than I’d guessed. “Mom’s been
hovering for days and all I want is to be alone. I’ve seen you after you get
back from an op. You crash. Well, I want to crash.”

Shame burned in my belly. He was right. Mom and Mamie often
went too far in their quest to take care of us. It was love, I knew it, but
there were times when a guy needed space.

“Pizza will keep,” I said. “I’ll tell them you’re asleep.
Tomorrow we’ll talk about…everything.”

Brent closed his eyes a moment. “Thanks.”

I went downstairs, informed the mother-hens Brent wouldn’t
be joining us, and attacked my pizza like an invasion of army ants, leaving
nothing but the bones behind.

* * *

Just after eight, my sat-phone rang. The speaker sucked, but
Mamie was breathing down my neck so it’d have to do. She’d followed me up to
the game room as soon as dinner was over.

“What’s up, Major?” I asked, glad to hear he and Jorge were
okay and alive.

“Thirteen dead Gators,” Ramirez said. He sounded like he was
calling from inside a car wash. “Only thirteen.”

“Same here. I’m guessing Colonel Tannen told you what went
down.”

“He did,” a nasal, clipped voice answered. “And I assume
Miss Archer is there with you?”

“Jorge!” It was good hearing his voice. I’d missed him.
“Yes, she is.”

“Ah. Welcome, Sister.”

Mamie’s eyes widened behind her glasses. It made her look
like an owl. “Um…thanks?” She mouthed, “Sister?”

I shrugged. Maybe she was part of the “shamans-only” club
now. “So, did your Gators do anything unusual?”

“No. They were much bigger, but they acted exactly the same
as last time,” Ramirez answered. “They came in stages, hunting in packs, and
fought fang and talon to the last one standing. Murphy had his thigh laid open.
Thirty stitches, but he’ll be okay.”

“Did they go after Jorge specifically?” Mamie asked,
shooting me a worried glance.

There was a really long pause, and I could almost see them,
Ramirez’s finger on the mute button, trying to decide how to answer that question
without freaking us out. Well, more than normal. These conversations had a
tendency to push at least one person over the creeptastic threshold.

“No,” Jorge finally said. “They attacked each of the
wielders with equal ferocity. They were sent to kill us all.”

“Then why did the Bears want to take me alive?” Mamie asked.
“Any ideas?”

“Many.”

We waited for him to say more for so long, the silence grew
loaded and awkward. “Uh, care to share?” I asked.

“Not really. None of my theories seem to hold water.” He
cleared his throat. “I will say this, and it’s not really a surprise. Your
family is special to the dark ones. The Gators we fought last time remarked
that Matt was dangerous. It would stand to reason that Mamie would be as well.
Why, I don’t know.”

“Guess our plan is to stay off the radar, then,” I said.

“Oh, I think you’ve been on the radar since the day you were
born,” Jorge said. “I wish I was more help.”

“We appreciate your time, anyway.” Mamie sounded a little
off; scared…and sad.

Once we’d said goodbye, I said, “Something’s bothering you.”

“I’m just wondering why I’m so important. It’s not like I
can build a magic knife like Jorge or solve the puzzles of the universe like
Dr. Burton-Hughes.”

“There has to be a reason,” I said. “And if anybody can
figure it out, it’s you. Don’t give up.”

She shot me an annoyed look. “I never give up. I might back
off sometimes, but I never quit.”

“Good. So, what are you going to do about school?”

She got up to pace. “I can’t go back to Missoula, knowing I
was the cause of…everything. I guess I have to stay here and go to community
college.”

She said “community college” with such defeat that I
laughed. “Transfer to Montana State. School just started. Surely you could get
in.”

“That’s an okay idea.”

“I still don’t love the idea of you roaming campus alone,
even in Billings, but I don’t know how we get around it if I get called up.”

“Me,” Brent said behind us. “That’s how. I’ll go with her.”

I turned to face him, glad to see him in a clean shirt and
sweatpants and looking less tragic. “Don’t you need to go back to WSU?”

He stared at the floor. “The doctors are cautioning me not
to play anymore. They said I could, but it’s a risk. The collarbone has
weakened and a hard tackle could rebreak it.”

Now I got the whole “I need to be alone” thing—he was trying
to decide what to do with his life. Risk his health to play, or admit the end
and move on? “That sucks, man.”

“It does, but you know what? It sounds like I need to be
here right now. I’ll talk to my coaches, see if I can transfer back for the
spring semester and work my way onto the team again…assuming I’m well enough.”
He nodded slowly, like he was convincing himself as he was talking. “Mamie
needs someone to shadow her for a while. I can do that. Maybe by next spring,
everything will be okay and I can go back. But, for now, I’ll be her bodyguard.
Even with a broken arm, I can still knock someone’s teeth down his throat.”

Mamie blinked back tears and got up to give him a gentle
hug. “Are you sure about this? I don’t want you giving up on your dream because
there’s a slim chance I’ll have trouble.”

“No matter what I say, or how I act, I give a damn, okay?”
He smiled down at her. It was pained and stretched around the edges, but I had
to give him props for trying. “You’re my sister. I’d take on a pack of rabid
wolves for you.”

“Me, too,” I said.

“Matt, you already did.” Mamie wiped her eyes and laughed.
“We’ll let Brent have his turn this time.”

I gave Brent a fist bump. “Watch out for the claws, dude.
They’re nasty.”

“Do my best, dumbass.”

From Brent, that was practically a term of endearment, so I
jerked my chin toward the staircase. “Want that pizza now? Because if you
don’t, I’m calling dibs.”

“Matt, you just ate a whole pizza. You can’t still be
hungry,” Mamie said.

“Sure he can.” Brent lumbered to the stairs. “But, touch my
pizza, lose a hand.”

“Noted,” I called after him, feeling better about the plan.
Brent wasn’t a wielder, but he was a badass in his own right. And that might
just be enough to save Mamie from the fate the Shadow Man kept promising in my
nightmares.

Or so I hoped.

Two days later, while I tried to puzzle out my Trig homework
without admitting to Mom that real school—or at least a tutor—might not be a
bad idea, the call came.

“Matt!” Mamie called up the stairs. “Phone!”

I frowned…not that Mamie was yelling for me to pick up the
phone—I was secretly glad to have both my sibs home with me again, not that I’d
tell them that—but that someone was calling me on the house line. That usually
meant school information or a doctor’s appointment reminder.

And neither of those was applicable.

I went to the game room and picked up the phone gingerly,
like it might explode in my hand. “This is Matt.”

“Archer, good,” General Richardson boomed. “I was hoping I’d
catch you.”

“Uh, sir, don’t you have the sat-phone number?”

“Yes, of, course. It’s just that landlines are a bit more
secure.”

My frown deepened. Since when did that matter? “Yes, sir.
What can I do for you?”

“Captain Tannen is arranging to fly you to Virginia
tomorrow. You’re being deployed. I can’t tell you more until you arrive.”

My gut fluttered in excitement. Finally…I could take the
fight to them instead of sitting at home. “And Cruessan?”

“Stays here. I still need a wielder stateside, just in case.
The last eclipse proved that,” the general said firmly. “Colonel Tannen will
fly back with you. More details when you arrive.”

After telling me I’d get an email from the airline with a
flight confirmation, he hung up, leaving me with more questions than answers.
Why hadn’t he called Uncle Mike? Or had he? Where would I be going on
deployment? How long would I be gone?

All these questions beat at my brain as I grabbed my keys
and wallet. Ella would be home from school in an hour, giving me just enough
time to go see Mike at his loft before picking her up for a goodbye date.

My heart panged a little. I’d gotten used to seeing her
nearly every day, and leaving was going to be hard, no matter how much I wanted
to go. I turned around and went to my nightstand, where I kept the St.
Christopher medal when I was home. The metal was cool against my fingers, but
its familiar weight was comforting. I slipped it into my pocket.

“Tink, I’m going out. Be back tonight to prep for the trip,”
I told my closet door.

I’ll stay out of the way until you say your goodbyes
,
she said.
There are some things I need to do before we depart.

I couldn’t tell if she was being snippy or not, but I could
tell she was just as excited as I was about the hunt. “Okay. See you later.”

Mamie sat at the kitchen table and looked up from her
homework when I breezed through on my way to the garage. “Everything okay? That
sounded like General Richardson.”

I paused in the mudroom doorway. “It was. I’m leaving
tomorrow. I need to go check in with Uncle Mike and see Ella.”

The blood had drained from Mamie’s face. “You’re going to
find her.”

“What?” I took a few steps back into the kitchen. “What are
you talking about.”

“They’ll tell you tomorrow, but…I’ve been getting flashes of
you and Dad…traveling somewhere.” She pulled off her glasses and rubbed her
eyes. Her hands were shaking. “This is it, Matt. They have a lead on Ann
Smythe.”

If I was excited to go before, it was nothing compared to
the burning eagerness I felt now. “You think so? God, I hope you’re right.”

Mamie’s smile was weak. “I hope I’m not, but that’s for me
to worry about.”

Which reminded me…. “I’ll tell Will to keep an eye on you
while I’m gone.”

She snorted. “Not sure I need it. I can’t even go into the
backyard without Brent following me.”

“I heard that!” Brent called from the living room.

Mamie sighed. “You don’t have to worry about me. Go see
Ella. I’ll tell Mom you’ll be back later.”

I drove downtown in a hurry, having texted Mike to expect
me. He stood in the doorway to his loft when I walked up and waved me inside.
“Julie called. I heard you’re coming with me when I go home tomorrow.”

“Yeah, and Mamie seems to think it has something to do with
Ann Smythe.”

Mike had gone to the kitchen to pour a cup of coffee and
froze with the pot in hand. “Really.”

His reaction told me more than anything else could. “She’s
right, isn’t she? The general didn’t tell me, but she’s right.”

“Yes.” He set the coffee pot down and slowly turned to face
me, his expression grim. “You and Erik are heading to Europe. He has a lead and
everyone felt like a wielder should travel with him in case there’s trouble.
You’re the perfect cover—father/son trip.”

“Then why didn’t the general tell me that?” I asked,
wondering why they were all acting so weird. “He called me on the house line,
too, not the sat phone or my cell. What’s going on?”

“Nothing,” Mike said, although I could tell it was anything
but. “We’re just being cautious in case unfriendly ears are listening. I
imagine he called you from home, rather than his office, too.”

Were there Nocturna Maura spies at the Pentagon? That’s sure
what it seemed like. “Understood. I’ll keep my questions to myself until we get
there, then.” I checked the time on my phone. “I need to run so I can pick up
Ella at school. I don’t have much time to say goodbye.”

The corner of Mike’s mouth turned up. “You’re seventeen. I
imagine it doesn’t take
that
long.”

I laughed, shocked at the joke. “Hey, it takes longer than
you give me credit for.”

“Uh huh.” He refilled his coffee mug and took a sip, his
eyes crinkled up in laughter as he looked at me over the rim. “Just be
careful.”

“Always,” I told him.

* * *

A few hours later, I lay on Ella’s bed, watching the sun
make shadows on the walls. Her parents were due home soon, so we’d gotten
dressed in case they showed up early. We had plans to go to dinner…I just
couldn’t make myself move. Not yet.

I pulled her tighter against my side, tucking her head
beneath my chin so I could breathe in the vanilla scent of her shampoo. To keep
myself going, I thought, to remind me why I’d stay safe and come back.

“This one’s going to be different, isn’t it?” Ella murmured,
the sound vibrating against my chest. “They’re all dangerous, I know, but
something about you hunting down witches who can call demons sounds worse than
hunting monsters.”

I stroked her arm, closing my eyes against the passing of
time, hiding from the lengthening shadows that told me I had to leave soon.
“Maybe. I’m more worried about traveling with my Dad on some farce of a
father/son vacation.” My laugh was ironic. “What kind of father takes his son
on a trip to Europe…for a witch hunt?”

Ella sat up, smiling. Her hair was tousled and her lips were
swollen from all the kisses I’d given her. In fact, I thought she might need
another half-dozen, so before she could say anything, I pulled her back down on
top of me and captured her mouth with mine. Forgetting the time, the trip,
everything but her, I held her close and let my hands slip beneath her shirt to
find that soft skin I loved so much.

Ella made a little noise in the back of her throat, then
sighed and pulled away. “It’s getting late. I’d love to keep you here all
night, all to myself, but my mom will be home in twenty minutes, and we both
know you can’t be here then, or…”

I knew what the “or” was. Ella’s dad flat out glared at me
every time I so much as took her hand in mine. Even if he never said it, the
message was clear—touch my daughter, and you’ll never see daylight again.

Annoying as that was, I kind of respected him for it. Which
is why I made damn sure we were never caught doing more than holding hands in
front of them. I wanted to see daylight again, and I didn’t want Ella to be banned
from seeing me, so I behaved.

“I know. We should go.” I rolled off the bed and offered a
hand to help her up, using that as an excuse to pull her into one last hug
while we still had some peace and quiet. “I’m going to miss you.”

“I’ll miss you, too.” When she looked up at me, her eyes
were fierce. “But this is more important. Ann Smythe has hurt thousands of
people. She needs to go down, and I think you and your dad can take her.”

I loved it when Ella got riled up on my behalf. It was hot.
Too bad we didn’t have enough time for me to demonstrate just how hot I thought
it was. “We’ll catch her. And we’ll bring her back. I promise.”

And this was one promise I meant to keep.

* * *

We touched down at Dulles just after two. Aunt Julie and
Baby Kate met us at baggage claim. After accepting a hug and kiss from her
daddy, Kate fussed and reached for me, so I handed Uncle Mike my duffel bag and
took her. She chattered and giggled the whole way to the Jeep. She’d grown so
much since I last saw her, and was even more cute with her hair pulled back in
a tiny ponytail that stuck straight up on top of her head.

I soaked in every moment, knowing this was my very last
chance at normal for a while.

Once we had Kate strapped into her seat and everyone was
settled, Aunt Julie took off, easing us into the crazy Virginia-metro traffic
with confidence. That’s when I realized we weren’t heading toward the Pentagon,
but rather, northwest toward McClean.

“I thought the new house was in Lake Barcroft,” I said. “Why
are we headed this way?”

“Because Langley is this way,” Aunt Julie said, her words
clipped with tension.

Langley? “Wait, you’re taking me to CIA headquarters?”

Uncle Mike glanced back at me, his expression as tight as
Julie’s voice. “Yes.”

Bad. Ass.

We drove for about twenty-five minutes, because of traffic,
before getting off the highway. Aunt Julie pulled up in front of a building
with an arched entrance over a bank of doors. Dad stood waiting out front and
came to the Jeep as soon as we stopped. He wore jeans, a t-shirt and an
unzipped hoodie. He looked almost…ordinary. Except the hoodie still had its tag
attached, and his Nikes were brand-spanking new.

So, what, his cover was weekend suburban Dad?

Mike and I hopped out and he helped me pull my backpack and
duffel from the Jeep’s truck. “Be careful,” he told me. “And make Erik be
careful, too.”

A lot of responsibility to demand, so I made my goodbyes
formal, to make sure he knew I understood. “I will, Colonel. We’ll be back as
soon as possible.”

He nodded and glanced at Dad over my shoulder. “Matt better
come home in one piece or, so help me, I’ll finish that brawl I started when
Dani found out who you really were.”

“Colonel, I’ll be okay.”

Without waiting for Dad to respond to the jab, I picked up
my bags and headed for the building. When Dad held the door open for me, I
looked back at the Jeep.

Mike was watching us, his jaw clenched shut and his fists
balled at his sides.

Yeah, this trip was going to be interesting.

Dad led me through security. After he flashed a card, they
didn’t even ask to look inside the metal box I carried. We took an elevator to
the third floor and hurried down a warren of hallways, almost like he didn’t
want anyone to see me with him, until we entered a large office on a corner.

An older man in dress shirt and tie, wearing black-framed
glasses, looked up. “This him?”

“Yes,” Dad said. “Got our credentials?”

The man opened his desk drawer and pulled out two passports.
He slid them across the desktop and I caught one before it plunged over the
side. The cover flopped open, revealing a recent picture of me…and the name
Matthew Combs.

“Secret identity?” I asked, feeling a laugh coming on.
“Well, that explains the hoodie.”

The desk man said, “They know who you are. If any of Smythe’s
people are monitoring flights, the name Matt Archer will be tracked. We altered
your birthday by a few months, too.” He flashed me a wry smile.
“Congratulations on turning eighteen last week.”

Dad pocketed his bogus passport and grabbed a rolling suitcase
from the corner of the room. “We’re off. I’ll report in once we hit the
ground.”

Without even telling the man—his boss? his
secretary?—goodbye, Dad strode out of the office. I grabbed my bags and
scurried after him.

“Where are we going?” I asked once I caught up.

He waited until we were in the elevator before answering.
“We’re driving to Baltimore to catch a flight to New York. From there, we’re
going to Germany, renting a car and driving to The Netherlands.”

“O…kay. Why? Couldn’t we just fly to Amsterdam or
something?” I asked.

Dad sighed and led me out to a nondescript beige Toyota. We
loaded our bags, got inside and he locked the doors. “We’re getting new
credentials in New York. Erik and Matthew Combs are flying to Paris. Daniel and
Jonathan Quigley are flying to Frankfurt.”

“I suppose I’m Jonathan since that’s my middle name?”

“And Daniel’s mine.” Dad pulled out of the parking lot and
headed for the highway. “Did you know that?”

Actually…no, and that was kind of sad. “So this is serious,
then. We’re playing Spy Games, except it’s real.”

Dad gave me a look that could freeze boiling water. “Make no
mistake, son. It’s very, very real.”