Matt Archer: Bloodlines (Matt Archer #4) (16 page)

I offered to drive Dad back to the loft after dinner. Brent
hurried to say he’d drive him in my car if I “wanted to rest.” Dad waved him
off. “I haven’t spent much time with Matt today.” He shot me an apologetic
look. Huh, maybe he realized he’d left me hanging earlier. “Why don’t you come
over to Mike’s for a visit tomorrow morning.”

Brent nodded, looking disappointed. I almost felt sorry for
him…almost. This whole sibling rivalry thing had been part of us for a long,
long time and Dad was just one more thing for Brent to get wound up about. I
thought things were better after our powwow last Christmas, when he gave me the
condoms—and an education—but Dad was a new variable, and he seemed to have set
us back.

The drive to the loft was quiet, and when we got there, Dad
invited me inside. Curious, I followed him in and took a seat on the leather
sofa.

Dad sat heavily next to me and stretched out his leg. “I
start physical therapy at the hospital on Monday. I need to work out some of
this stiffness before I go back to work.”

“You’re a pretty fit guy,” I said. “Seems like you’ll get
back in shape quick.”

“I hope so. I hate being helpless. Bright side, it might
earn me sympathy points when I try to buy a car tomorrow.” He gave me a wry
smile. “Whether your mother is happy about it or not, I plan to stay out here
until I get reassigned. The agency is going to allow me to work remotely, doing
research, until my leave is up in six weeks. After that, who knows?”

I looked at his cane, standing by the edge of the couch, and
thought of Mamie’s theory about Dad’s warring heart. Who would win? The man or
the spy? “Maybe it’s a good thing. It’ll give you time to readjust to…regular
life.”

“Hmm. Maybe. Either way, you have more questions, and I
thought this would be a better place to answer them than in front of your
mother.”

“She doesn’t like talking about your job much, does she?”
When he frowned, I said, “You invited me in. I might as well make it
interesting, right?”

“You’re right. Being a dad to you three is going to age me
ten years in a week.” Dad rolled his eyes to the ceiling. “But, no, your mother
doesn’t like talking about my job at all. Probably because she knows more about
it than you do.”

“It might help if I knew about it, too.”

He stared into space, his mouth set in a straight line. I
wondered if that was what I looked like when someone asked me a question I
didn’t want to answer. Finally he sighed and asked, “What do you want to know?”

“Everything.”

“That’s too long a story.”

“How about summing up?” The look he shot me was so annoyed,
I laughed. “Hey, you said I could ask.”

“Okay, okay. This is the easy part…my father was in military
intelligence. He served in Vietnam, and died over there in 1970 when I was just
a little kid. My grandfather served in World War II as a naval pilot, got shot
down in enemy territory and saved two injured crew members by leading them to
rescuers. Given that kind of history, I went into to the Marines right out of
college.”

The Marines? Something didn’t add up. “But, you were in the
CIA when Mom met you, and you were only twenty-six. How’d you finish your tour
so fast?”

“I graduated college at twenty.” Now he smiled. “Mamie’s
intelligence doesn’t only come from Dani’s side. I’m pretty sharp, too.”

“How long were you a Marine?”

“Long enough to prove myself on a few covert missions. When
my three-year enlistment was up, the CIA offered me a position that included
some…particular training.”

“Uncle Mike says you speak a ton of languages.”

“Oui. But the CIA was interested in some of my other more
unique skills.”

Now we were getting somewhere. “Which were?”

“An unfailing ability to pass any test they threw at
me—written or practical.” Dad looked away from me. “And sharpshooting skills,
especially long distance.”

An uneasy feeling cuddled my guts. We were finally about to
hit bone. “Did you kill people?”

“Officially? No. Off the books? Yes.”

“Who?”

“I took out a few drug kingpins in South America. The leader
of a pirate syndicate in Somalia. Foiled a few coups…started a few others. Oh,
and eliminated a petty dictator or two.” He grimaced. “But mostly I got close
to targets, gathered intel and sent it back to Langley. That meant I had to
deal with the dark underbelly of the world for a lot of years, sneaking into
places no one should ever have to see. Pretending to be the very people I
hated. It takes a toll.”

I knew something about work taking a toll. “Like the
compound in Australia.”

He nodded. “And worse.”

There was no way I’d ask what could be worse than Australia.
I had enough nightmares of my own. “Does Mom know you had to kill people?”

“I never told her, but she suspected it. I think that was
what finally drove her to ask me to leave. I went on assignment while she was
pregnant with you and took care of some things the government would never admit
to outright. She probably did believe you were in danger from people I may have
angered on the job, but the thought of me hunting down people on the gray side
of the law didn’t sit well with her.”

“Probably not a good idea to mention it to Mamie, either,” I
said. “She’d never, ever understand. Not even if there was a good reason. Not
even if the person sold kids to Nocturna Maura.”

“I got that impression. For a college student, she’s very
intuitive, but naïve at the same time,” Dad said. “She’s a paradox. It’s kind
of fun, to tell the truth.”

Funny how I’d never really thought about it that way. There
was
something almost preternatural about Mamie’s intellect, but she still slept
with her teddy bear—even at college.

“And how about ‘Buddy?’” I asked, trying not to sound
jealous that Brent had a nickname.

The expression on Dad’s face—bemused and a little
guilty—told me he heard it anyway. “Brent has grown up without me. He’s not a
little boy anymore—he’s a man, and I missed the transition. It hurts to
understand exactly what I missed.”

“What about me?”

That question filled the room with a bloated silence as Dad
mulled over his answer. It took him long enough that I started to worry he
couldn’t come up with anything, but finally he said, “You far exceed all the
expectations I ever had.”

Pop—that was the sound of all my disappointment imploding. “Oh.”

Dad chuckled. “You thought I’d say something else?”

“I don’t know,” I said. “You left me before I even knew you.
I’m glad I make you proud, but…this whole thing is going to take a while to
work out.”

“Then I’ll just have endeavor to exceed
your
expectations,”
Dad said quietly.

While I wondered if it would ever happen, a tiny part of me
truly hoped he could.

* * *

I went straight to Mamie’s room when I got home. Her door
was shut. Not a surprise since Brent was trying to demolish the house by playing
his stereo at full volume.

I yelled in the direction of his room, “Dude, ever heard of
headphones?”

“Shut up, assclown!”

I flipped his door the bird—even if he couldn’t see it, I
held a cosmic belief that all middle-finger salutes were felt in some way—then
knocked on Mamie’s door.

“Come in.”

At least, I thought that’s what she said. It was kind of
hard to tell over the bass pounding the walls. I pushed the door open and found
her at her desk, typing madly on her laptop. Books were spread out all over her
bed and pieces of paper littered the floor. While Brent’s room looked like a
garage sale in a bad part of town on most days, my sister was a neat-freak, so
the chaos had me worried.

“Did the bookcase fall on you again?” I asked.

“No. I’m doing research.” She didn’t bother to look at me
and her fingers flew across the keyboard. Screen after screen popped up.
Wikipedia, but more obscure things, too. At one point, she opened something
that looked like an academic site—the kind I avoided like the zombie-plague.

“So, sis, what’s got your brain in a twist this time?
Nocturna Maura stuff for Julie?”

“Nope. Wielder genealogy.”

Now I knew something was up. Mamie loved explaining things
until you begged for mercy. A terse answer was a total red flag. “Who’s turn is
it now?”

“You.” Mamie tapped a few keys on her laptop and brought up
a fresh screen. “I’m researching the Archers. Dad’s ancestors from the 1800s,
specifically.”

She’d gone that far back? “Okay, seriously, what brought all
this on?”

“I just had a gut feeling we needed to know more. It started
right before you left for Australia,” she said. “I don’t know how to explain
it, but you know how I get. Once I start down a path, I can’t really stop.”

Yeah, that was definitely true. She’d once researched the
entire history of Marie Antoinette because she didn’t buy the line about “let
them eat cake” in her social studies book in fifth grade.

“I guess it’d be good to know,” I said. “Dad told me about
his father and grandfather, but that’s all. They were both military…and kind of
badass.”

“Not surprising,” Mamie said. “Since the knives look at your
bloodlines, researching Will’s family tree made me curious about us, especially
since Mike and Jorge seem to believe you inherited something special from both
sides.”

“We know about the Tannens.” Mom had filled me in on her
side of the family right after we found out about Dad’s profession. Brains and
soldiers as far as the eye could see. “But, yeah, Dad’s ‘extra special’ for
sure.”

Mamie’s chuckle was uncomfortable. “No doubt.” She pointed
at her screen. “It’s been really hard to research, but the family originated in
Scotland, then came here in the seventeen hundreds. Dad’s
great-great-great-grandfather was a pioneer in the late 1850s. His name was
Matthew Archer.”

At that, Tink stirred in my head, and a teeny, tiny giggle
echoed between my ears.

I rolled my eyes. “Find that amusing, do you?”

My sister gave me an odd look. “Not really. I find it kind
of creepy, to be honest.” I waved a hand and she said, “Ah, you weren’t talking
to me. Tink’s interested in that tidbit, huh?”

“Yeah, but let’s keep going.”

“Okay, so 1850s-Matthew moved to Wyoming and, if these
genealogy records are right, married a women from the Arapaho tribes. Right
now, I’m digging into tribal histories to find out more…but her father was a
medicine man.”

A tingling ache started at the base of my neck. An itch I
couldn’t quite scratch. “Really?”

“As far as I can tell. There’s not much to go on, and I’ve
even paid some genealogy sites to look at it for me.” She flashed me a smile.
“I used Mom’s credit card for that, so you’ll need to give me some money to pay
her back.”

“Nice.”

“Well, it was worth it, because the Arapaho have some
interesting myths. One is about twin boys who grow up to kill monsters. In one
story—the monster was a giant alligator.”

Tink buzzed around excitedly, but all I could do is rub a
hand across my forehead with clammy fingers. “An alligator.”

Mamie’s eyes gleamed. “A
giant
alligator.”

I’d seen something like that in Peru…and had killed a bunch
of them a few years ago. “Telling you I feel like I might puke isn’t going to
stop this history lesson, is it?”

She patted me on the leg. “You need to hear this.”

I didn’t doubt it but we were entering
Twilight Zone
material. “Go ahead.”

“Okay, so great-great-great-Grandpa took his wife and
settled near Yellowstone. After that, there’s not much information until we get
to Dad’s great-grandfather. His name was Matthew, too.”

A shiver shot down my spine, making my whole body shudder.
“Guess it’s a family name.”

“Must be. This Matthew was born in 1888. He amassed a
fortune in copper mining in the mid-twenties, then went on expeditions all over
the world.” Mamie rubbed her arms, like she’d suddenly gotten cold. “He
disappeared in Asia in 1930, leaving behind a wife and twelve-year-old son, who
eventually became a naval pilot in World War II.”

“Where in Asia?”

She closed up her laptop and gave me a grave look. “China.”

I stood slowly, wondering what all of this meant. Will and I
both had crazy family-trees, but I wasn’t related to royalty like he was. Would
we ever find out what was so important about the Archers? Did the answer lie
with the Chinese shaman—a person we hadn’t yet found?

Still, my blood fit with the knife-spirits for a reason and
I felt like I was hurtling toward my destiny at top speed, with every step
pre-ordained. What if the outcome was that I was supposed to die or something?
Did I have the power to change that? Or was I locked into my fate and had to
shoulder it like a man?

The thought of never seeing my family or Will or Ella again
made my stomach twist. Hopefully things wouldn’t turn out that way. Maybe, just
maybe, Will and I would actually save the world.

The summer went by so slowly, I nearly went crazy. Dad left
in early June, which bummed out Brent, but left Mamie and me somewhat relieved.
Even though he’d been around several weeks, I’d found it really hard to get to
know him. After that one soul-baring chat, he kept me at a distance, never
delving into such serious topics again. I thought we’d eventually get better
acquainted, but it didn’t happen, which left me confused and restless. I mean,
why come live in Billings at all, unless he’d used me to get to Mom? Not that
it helped much; Mom had seemed just as confused and restless about his sudden
reappearance—then disappearance—as I was.

After Dad left for D.C., news reports of strange deaths,
ritual suicides and “mass delusions” of strange creatures started trickling in
from various parts of the world, but the Army didn’t call me—or Will—up to help
with the hunt. I didn’t understand it, not one bit, and spent my days in the
gym so I’d be ready the second I got my chance. Tink approved of the effort,
and by the end of July, my body fat ratio was down around seven percent. Ella
liked the results, but to me, it was just something that felt necessary.

August blew in with a thunderstorm that made it clear autumn
was on its way and in a really bad mood. It matched my own as I helped Mamie
move back to school. I always hated to see her go.

“It’s okay, really,” she said, her voice oddly strained as
we carried a load into her dorm room. “I’ll be fine here.”

I quirked an eyebrow. “Why wouldn’t you be?”

She took in a sharp breath, like she’d accidentally leaked a
secret. “Oh, I thought you might be worried or something.”

“No, just going to miss you.” I unpacked her mini
refrigerator and plugged it in to make sure it worked.

She set a box of books on her desk and smiled. “I’ll miss
you too.”

I stood and laid a hand on her arm, mainly to say something
meaningless and comforting. To my surprise, her eyes flew open wide behind her
glasses and she flushed bright red.

I let her go and took a step back. “What’s wrong?”

“Uh…” Mamie turned her back on me to unpack her books.
“Nothing. Just…uh, be careful, okay? You and Ella both. You know...with, um,
stuff.”

Holy shit, not her, too. Why did everyone think it was their
duty to give me the safe sex talk? And why now? My forehead started to sweat
out of sheer humiliation. “Look, everything’s fine. Can we pretend this
conversation never happened?”

“Okay,” she murmured. “Although I might need some brain
bleach after that one.”

“What?”

“Huh?” Mamie looked at me over her shoulder. “Oh, just
talking to myself.”

Unable to process how weird this conversation was, I ran
back to the car for the rest of the boxes, chalking the awkwardness up to the
fact that I was unhappy she was leaving me.

And that wasn’t the only strange chat I had that week. Dad
called from D. C. with some pretty big news.

“All this new violence around the world has made the agency
rethink my position as a liaison,” he said. “Sounds like I’ll be on field
work—hunting Ann Smythe to be specific.”

I flopped on the couch, not sure if this made me glad or
concerned. “You’re going back out there to look for the Nocturna Maura people?
For how long?”

“Not sure. I’m going to find her though.”

The determination—the outright excitement—in his voice was
palpable. He was ready to go. This assignment was going to be super dangerous,
and he sounded like he was happy to fling himself right into the middle of it.
“Mamie was right.”

“About what?”

“You’re a hunter, through and through.”

“I am,” he finally said after a long silence. “And so are
you. Of anyone, you should understand why I have to go do this.”

“I do, and I’m not arguing about you leaving. I want you to
find Ann Smythe and drag her into custody.” I picked at my cuticles, suddenly
feeling stupid about the conversation. I had no right to question his actions
when my own had been just as risky, if not more so. “It’s nothing. Good luck.”

“You, too,” he said. “We’ll see this thing to the end. You
and me, okay?”

“Okay.”

We each had a job to do, I knew that. And I’d hold up my end
of the bargain.

* * *

With everyone gone, Mom and I settled into our regular
lonely routine. The only bright spot was that she let me continue my studies
online versus going back to Greenhill. Both of us had pretty much decided
traditional school was out for me and that I should just get my GED while I had
the downtime. Will’s parents hadn’t reached that conclusion yet, but I
suspected that had more to do with him playing football his senior year than
the actual education part.

It sucked for him, having to endure class and practice right
now, because we had something bigger looming over us, and a tendril of unease
nagged at me constantly the closer we got to the eclipse. Tink grew more
agitated, too.

I don’t like it,
she muttered a week before the
blood-red moon.
Something’s off. I feel the dark brothers gathering power,
but it doesn’t feel right. Muted in some way.

“Are they hiding from us?” I leaned back on my bed and
rubbed my eyes. I’d been reading
Macbeth
and was ready for a break, even
if it involved a discussion of the occult. “Shielding themselves?”

Perhaps. I’ll keep searching.

Then she went and gave me a good snap in the forehead.

“Ow! What was that for?”

It’s been a while…just wanted to make sure it still
worked.

“You crazy little—”

Not crazy. Unpredictable.
She chuckled.
Don’t let
the down time make you complacent. We’re on alert now.

I rubbed my forehead, grumping. “I’m not complacent. And
I’ll be ready.”

Good.

No matter what I said to reassure her, Tink put me through
the wringer for the next seven days. If I slept, I had nightmares…and most of
the time I
couldn’t
sleep because Tink paced around in my head,
muttering to herself. During daylight hours, I felt like I had chickenpox.
Little spots would flare up with a burning itch on my neck, my back or my arms
at random times. At one point Mom freaked out, thinking there was a bee in the
kitchen because I swatted at my bicep during dinner.

“What’s up with you?” I muttered to Tink once I made it to
my car Thursday afternoon after going to see Ella. “The eclipse isn’t for
thirty-six hours. Mike’s here, Johnson’s on his way and Will’s dad has us
outfitted to the eyebrows with survivalist gear to head into the woods tomorrow
night. We’re as ready as we can be. Stop making me crazy.”

You are as ready as you can be, but I’m not,
she
snapped.
My brother is just as concerned. There’s something wrong, and I’m
having to use you to amplify my reach so I can “see” farther.

“You’re practically giving me a seizure so you can boost
your satellite signal?” I pulled out Ella’s driveway, wishing she didn’t have
to work this evening. She was the only one who could keep me calm when my
knife-spirit went schizo. “Fine, but do you think you could lay off of the love
taps?”

Tink didn’t answer me, but I felt her humming along my
nerves. That must be a “no.”

I made it home without wrecking my car. Mike was hanging out
on the living room sofa, watching TV. I called out a hello and went upstairs to
drop my stuff off, sighing when I noticed a blue light glowing through the
cracks around the edges of my closet door.

“I thought I closed your box,” I told her.

It is closed. You might not want to come in here.

I backed away from the door. “You…might be right. Is it
really that bad?”

Power surges. We’ve been without activity for so long, my
brother and I are full of bottled up energy. Tomorrow could be uncomfortable
for you
.

Great. “Just try to hold on until after we head into the
woods tomorrow. We need time to set up before you liquefy my brain.”

Noted.

No assurances that she
wouldn’t
liquefy my brain,
though. That was unsettling and I had a feeling tomorrow night would hurt like
unholy hell. Nothing to do about it, though. I just had to power through.

I went downstairs to hang with
Uncle Mike. “So, sitting around watching TV must be like a vacation.”

“No kidding.” Mike smiled.
“Chasing a toddler around the house after working all day wears you out.”

“Has Kate learned to climb up on
stuff yet?”

Now he laughed. “She worked her way around all the baby
proofing we did on the new house in less than twenty-four hours. Last weekend,
we found her on top of the kitchen counters, eating animal crackers straight
from the box. No idea how we lost track of her,
or
how she got up there.
Julie was especially baffled.”

I bet she was. A fifteen-month old outsmarted a spy? Yeah,
that was pretty funny. “How’s the new house? I saw the pictures and it looks
like the yard is big enough for Kate’s pony.”

“It’s a little small for a pony in my opinion, but I doubt
that will stop you,” he said. “So, I have other news.”

I dropped into the recliner and took a load off. “What?”

“I’ve been promoted.” He paused. “To Lieutenant Colonel.”

I shot out of the chair and was standing at attention before
I realized what I was doing. “Sir, congratulations, sir.”

“At ease, Chief. Seriously.” His smile faded. “The general
put me over Pentagram Strike Force.”

That’s when I understood—Uncle Mike was replacing Colonel
Black. A lump formed in my throat. “Oh…yeah. I can, uh, see that.”

“I promise to do him proud,” he said softly, and I knew he
didn’t mean the general. “I’m going to work really hard to do that.”

“I know you will.”

A loud banging rocked the front door, cutting off our
discussion. I headed to the entry, yelling, “Don’t take the thing off the
hinges, Captain!” When I opened the door, Johnson stood on my doorstep, chewing
on a toothpick…and wearing flannel. “A plaid lumberjack shirt? Really, sir?”

“It’s Montana,” he said, coming inside. “I thought I’d blend
in like this.”

“And I think it’s been a long time since you wore civvies.”
I led him into the living room. “We have the place to ourselves. Mom had to go
to Helena for a trial and I told her to stay the weekend, to keep her safe. She
didn’t like that much, but Mike managed to convince her.”

Johnson’s expression went serious. “Good idea. Where’s
Cruessan?”

“He’ll be here a little later. I think he’s waiting for
Millicent to finish making us a good luck cake or something.” I stoked the fire
and wondered if I should call for a pizza now or wait on Will. “Question…what
do we have for weaponry besides the knives?”

“Not much,” Mike said. “I brought my personal rifle and
Julie’s favorite Beretta. I figured anything more…explosive would attract too
much attention.”

“I brought a couple of shotguns, my sidearm and, um, a
‘requisitioned’ can of tear gas.” Johnson’s eyes gleamed. “Oh, and three cans
of Axe body spray.”

I threw my head back and cracked up. “You guys ragged on us
for
months
about that and now you’re stealing our idea?”

“Buying my own flamethrower would’ve been cool, but we’re on
a budget,” Johnson protested, but he was laughing too. “I was worried about
your safety when you pulled that stunt, but it was a genius idea.”

I pointed at Mike. “See…
genius
idea.”

He shook his head. “Says the guy who singed off his eyebrows
the one time I let him use a flamethrower.”

Yeah. There were some things a guy would never live down.
“Just as long as we’re ready tomorrow.”

“We will be,” Uncle Mike said. “No one gets hurt or killed on
our watch. No one.”

I stood up taller. “Hooah.”