Matt Archer: Blade's Edge (33 page)

Mom winced when her name was invoked. Yeah, she was going to have some explaining to do for this one.

“Sorry, Mil,” Will mumbled. “I just—”

Before he could finish the sentence, Millicent threw her arms around his neck and started crying. “Oh, my poor boy. Let’s go home. We’ll have some cookies, then we can talk.” Not two seconds later she shoved him away and held him at arm’s length. “I can’t believe you didn’t tell me!”

Alternating between scolding and motherly concern, Millicent marched Will down to the minivan she used to run errands. He grimaced at me before he got into the car.

“Man, he’s going to be in for a rough night,” I said, hobbling up to the porch. “Mom, why did you do that?”

She sighed. “Because I didn’t feel right about keeping his family in the dark and, as far as I’m concerned, she’s the closest family Will has. Millicent isn’t going to tell his parents, though, if that’s what you’re worried about. She said it wasn’t her place. Besides, I think she’s actually proud of him, just mad he didn’t tell her.”

Good…if—or when—his parents found out, Will might never see the light of day again. “Well, maybe you should’ve warned him.”

Uncle Mike laughed. “What, and ruin the surprise? The look on his face was priceless.”

I shook my head as he shoved past me to give Mom and Mamie hugs, and they went inside, leaving me alone with Ella. I’d have to thank him for clearing a path for me later. Ella looked beautiful in a skirt and white tank top, and I limped her way, trying not to lean on the cane any more than necessary. No need for a returning warrior to look puny in front of his girlfriend, right?

Ella frowned at my hurt leg, her expression uncertain.

“Don’t worry about my knee, okay? I’ll be good as new by the middle of August.” I gave her a bright smile, worried by her deepening frown. “We’ll go waterskiing before school starts. Just wait and see.”

She gulped and a tear leaked out of the corner of her left eye. She wiped it away. “Is it true you almost died?”

I went to put an arm around her but she moved back a step. “I’ll be fine, really. I just twisted my knee. That’s it.”

She shook her head. “I know what happened; Mamie told me. About the poison, about everything.”

“I’m okay. You don’t need to worry.” I reached for her again, but she scooted further away. “What?”

“Matt, we need to talk.”

I wanted to wrap her up in a hug, and knowing she wouldn’t allow it made me a little angry. “What’s this about?”

“Before you left, when you were training for your mission, you looked happier than you have in a long time.” She wouldn’t meet my eyes. “Since we first started going out, really. Like being a soldier is who you’re meant to be, above all else.”

“I just figured some stuff out, that’s all,” I said cautiously. What was going on?

“I know, and that’s what I meant,” she murmured. “Maybe the knife had a point last fall, about you needing to focus on your mission.”

I had a feeling I wouldn’t like where this was headed. “What are you saying?”

Ella stared into the distance. “I love you, but…”

“But?” Oh, not now.

“I want you to be safe, Matt. And I want you to be the best soldier possible, because the world depends on it.” She took a deep breath, then kissed my cheek. “God, that sounded cheesy, but it’s true—the world literally depends on you. So I had to ask myself a really important question while you were gone: am I going to be the selfish girl who holds you back?”

The world focused down to nothing but Ella’s green eyes, staring into mine. I heard what she was saying, but I refused to believe it. “I don’t understand.”

Ella blinked fast, like she was holding back tears, but she didn’t look away. “You need time and space to become the soldier you’re supposed to be—to focus just like the knife said. Because that’s what I think it meant about me being a distraction. You can’t
have
distractions, not at all, and I love you more than anything….” She bit down hard on her lower lip which trembled anyway. “I love you enough to know I have to let you go.”

I pulled her close, yanking her against my chest a little harder than I meant to. We crashed together. “Don’t do this. Please don’t. We’ll talk—”

She put her hands on either side of my face. “Goodbye, Matt.”

One last kiss, then she ran to her car, the sun shining on her auburn hair.

I watched, too dumbfounded to feel anything, as she drove away.

Chapter Thirty-Five

I
hobbled down the driveway, staring
in the direction Ella’s car had gone. Once I reached the spot where she’d parked, I stopped. I couldn’t move, didn’t want to. I heard voices, people asking what had happened, but it didn’t mean anything. Mike called to me from the front doorway. When I didn’t answer, Mamie came out onto the porch and started my way, then stopped. Sweat ran into my eyes, but I didn’t care. I’d stand here and cook in the sun forever if that’s what it took to bring her back.

Like usual, it was up to Mom to reel me in, and she came down the driveway to meet me. “Sweetheart, what’s going on?”

I shook my head a fraction. I couldn’t believe Ella was gone. And yet, I knew she was; she’d meant what she said. My heart felt raw with resentment. For the job, for Ella leaving, for my father being gone, for my destiny as a wielder. For my life in general. I resented all of it and everyone around me. I even resented the people who didn’t know me, but depended on me to keep them safe from the horrors lurking just out of sight. To keep them safe so they could have the things I wanted, but were out of my reach.

Mom put a hand on my arm. “Honey, talk to me.”

But I didn’t want to talk.

The only girl I’d ever loved was gone.

And not coming back.

I lay flat on my bed. My bad leg was propped up, but I’d refused my pain pills. I wanted to hurt. If my knee ached badly enough, maybe I wouldn’t think about her. I hated that my job had landed me in this spot. Would Ella get back together with me if I gave up hunting? Or would she think I was a quitter?

It’s better this way,
the knife-spirit murmured
. She’s right…you need the distance.

“Shut up,” I muttered. “This is your fault, and I don’t want to hear any of your crap.”

Then rest.

I flung an arm over my eyes. “I said, ‘shut up’ you friggin’ lump of metal. Leave me alone for a while.”

She did what I asked. The sun set and my room got dark. I didn’t turn on the lights. My stomach growled once or twice, but food didn’t sound good. Nothing sounded good, except to have Ella lying next to me, whispering it was all a mistake. I still had the St. Christopher medal. It had kept me safe in travel, but it hadn’t protected the home front at all. I pulled it from my pocket and dropped it onto my nightstand.

A knock sounded against my door. “Matt?” Mom called. “I want to talk to you.”

“’kay.” I rolled over to face the wall, so I wouldn’t see the pity in her eyes.

She flipped on the light and I jumped at the sudden brightness invading my space.

“Sorry,” she said. “Honey, listen to me a minute. You have a choice to make.”

“Seems like all my choices were made for me,” I said. From the moment I used the knife to kill that first monster, my fate was sealed. I didn’t have a say. The tattoo on my wrist made that perfectly clear.

“No,” she said, “you can change your mind. You always could, at every single turn.”

I squeezed my eyes shut, wishing I could shut my ears, too. “Tell it to the knife. I’m stuck, whether I like it or not.”

The blade buzzed in its box in the closet, the spirit agreeing with me.

Mom slammed the closet door. “Mind your own business or I’m melting you down and turning you into a mixing bowl.”

If I hadn’t been so wrecked, that might’ve been funny. “I already told her to shut up once. She hasn’t been too cooperative about that.”

“
She
? Um…never mind. I’ll ask later,” Mom said. “Look, this path may have fallen to you, but you
can
step out of the fight for a while. You’re sixteen. The burden on your shoulders is more than most grown men can carry. As your mother, I find that unfair…it’s taking your youth away, turning you into a battle-hardened adult before you’ve even lived.” I could hear a hint of tears in her voice. “Why do you think I’ve insisted you stay in school until the team absolutely needed you? I want you to have some semblance of a normal life. You should be planning trips to the lake this summer, not sitting alone in the dark.”

“I’m only in here because of Ella.” I sighed, shifting on my bed to bend my knee into a more awkward position, relishing the sharp bite of pain in the joint. “You ever wonder how Dad felt when you kicked him out?”

Mom sucked in a breath. “Is that why she broke up with you? Because she was afraid and couldn’t take the worry anymore?”

“I don’t know, but she definitely thinks I need time to sort out stuff with my job.” Feeling pathetic, I ground my knee harder against the mattress.

“Honey, I’m so sorry. For you
and
for Ella. I know all too well how she must be feeling, and I imagine she’s alone in a dark room right now, too.” She paused. “But, this is why you should really think about what you want. The job? Or a normal high-school life?” Mom bent to kiss my cheek “Whatever you decide, I’ll be right there, behind you.”

She left then, turning out the light and shutting my door on her way out. So much to think about. So much hanging in the balance. She was right; it was unfair that the burden fell to me. But it did, and I remembered again what Jorge told me early on, when we first met. About what it took to be a good man.

Alone in a dark room, waiting for the demons to come, I made my decision.

Epilogue

August

C
olonel Black stood at the
bottom of the lecture hall at the Pentagon, the same one we’d used for the wielder’s summit back in January. Officers from no less than a dozen armies around the world had been invited to attend this briefing. While Brandt was out in the field in Africa again, and Ramirez was still on leave, Parker was here, paying intense attention to the presentation. Will and I sat in the back, trying to stay inconspicuous until we were introduced.

The colonel used his laser pointer to pinpoint hotspots of dark activity needing attention, including new reports coming from Canada, Romania and Indonesia. The presentation took three hours…we had a lot of work to do.

“Gentlemen, now you know what we’re facing,” the colonel said. “Our government pledges the knife-wielders to help in any way we can, but there are conditions. The most important of these is simple: you allow our wielders full access to whatever they need, period. The Pentagram Strike Force leads any investigation into these incidents—no questions asked, no orders second-guessed.”

A tall, stern-looking man wearing the livery of the Canadian Mounties raised a hand.

Colonel Black nodded at him. “Captain Westerville, you have the floor.”

“Your team has been very effective, that’s true. But I’ve heard rumors that one of your wielders is a child,” Captain Westerville said, his strong voice carrying easily through the room. “If we’re to trust your team implicitly, I have to know your wielders—all of them—are capable.”

“Your information isn’t entirely correct. One of our wielders is sixteen, but he’s no child.” Colonel Black’s eyes flicked to the top of the conference room. “Isn’t that right, Mr. Archer?”

I got to my feet. Chairs creaked as they turned to take a look at me. Will leaned against the wall with his arms crossed, like he was daring them to say something about a wielder being a sixteen-year-old. I knew they wouldn’t; one look in my eyes would tell them what they needed to know. The men stared for quite some time and, unlike my first meeting with the Green Berets nearly two years ago, no one smiled or laughed. Not this time.

Captain Westerville nodded. “Then I agree to the terms.”

I made my way down the stairs to the bottom of the conference room. My job was to brief the team on the search for the shamans in Africa, Australia and China, backed up by Aunt Julie’s intel and Mamie’s relentless pursuit of the truth. If we wanted to win, we had to find out who those first monsters were hunting. And I would find them, no matter what it took, even though I now knew exactly what the price would be.

Because Jorge was right.

For good men, duty isn’t a choice.

—The End—

Acknowledgements

For the longest time, I never thought I’d publish even one book, let alone two. It’s been a thrill to see Matt in print, and I have a lot of people to thank for their help in giving Mr. Archer a second chance in Blade’s Edge:

My editor, Cassandra Marshall, for her thoughtful questions, research and, most of all, for making me think.

My cover, webpage and interior layout designer, Glendon Haddix and the Streetlight Graphics team, for a cover that exceeded my expectations and fit the novel perfectly.

My awesome critique partners: Lindsay Buroker, Crash Froelich, Elizabeth Hull, Jeanne Haskin, Liz Coley, and Ladonna Watkins. A special thanks to J.R. Hochman who read two separate iterations of this book and helped me shape the final draft.

The Online Writers’ Workshop for Science Fiction, Fantasy and Horror and the readers who gave me advice and help on many of these chapters.

My beta readers: Ryan Highley, Arthur Stewart, Becca Andre and Maria McConnaughy.

Lieutenant Colonel Christopher Cook, who allowed me to pester him with questions at a church potluck right after he returned from deployment in Afghanistan. Without him, I wouldn’t have known about blinking lights on helmets, how hard it is to jump out of a Chinook while it’s hovering, or infrared night-vision scopes. Chris—you’re awesome and a credit to your country. Thank you for serving.