Matt Archer: Blade's Edge (25 page)

“Who cares what other people think,” she said, sounding like she meant it. Mamie poured herself some juice and joined me at the table. “So, you brought Luis back.”

The use of Ramirez’s first name brought a lump to my throat. It took a couple of hard swallows before I could answer. “Yeah. He’s safe in the hospital now.”

“That’s the important thing. The team recovered the wielder and his knife.” Mamie paused, choked up. “Because…I sure couldn’t stand to watch this happen to all of you if it wasn’t important.”

Thinking about how lost the little girl had looked in the cave, I said, “It’s important.”

Mamie nodded. “I know it is. I just hate the toll it takes on you.”

I put my good arm around my sister’s shoulders. “Hey, I know what will make you feel better.”

“What?”

“Two Pop-Tarts.”

She laughed. “Sounds good.”

We’d finished off the whole box by the time Mom got up. She took one look at the wrappers and crumbs and sighed before going to make coffee.

“So, are you going back to school on Monday?” Mamie asked.

My shoulders drooped. I hadn’t thought about that. “Um...”

“No,” Mom said, her voice carrying across the kitchen. “There’s no reason to re-enroll him for the last eight weeks of school, especially since he’s recovering from injuries. We’ll just keep up with online tutoring at home.” She came around the counter and set her coffee cup on the table. “Besides, I don’t think he needs any more stress right now.”

While I wasn’t sure I appreciated being thought of as “fragile”—or being talked about like I wasn’t in the room—I was so grateful to Mom for letting me stay home, I let it slide. “I’ll keep up with my classes, I promise. Besides, if I get behind, Mamie can take my finals for me.”

Mamie crossed her arms and gave me her best glare. “Broken arm or not, I am
not
helping you cheat.”

Well, it’d been worth a try.

A text popped up on my phone:
Where U at, hoser?

Mamie leaned over and looked at the message. “Questionable grammar. It must be Will.”

“The ‘hoser’ didn’t give it away?” I asked.

“Educated guess. It could’ve been Brent,” she answered. “You better check in with your…homer?”

I groaned. “I think you were just trying to say ‘homey’ and no one says that anymore. Maybe you should leave the slang to us B students.”

She snorted. “Don’t diss your erudite sister.”

“Thanks for making my point,” I said, flashing her a smile before taking my phone upstairs.

Will answered on the first ring. “So what’s this about a broken arm?”

“I’ve been home fourteen hours. How’d you know about that already?”

“Mamie called me last night.” He paused. “Sorry about Schmitz, man. Wish I could’ve been there.”

I let the silence stretch out until I was sure I could talk without breaking down. “Me, too. And next time, you will be. I can’t do it without you, dude.”

I could almost see him nodding slowly. “I know.”

Now all I had to do was make sure Uncle Mike and the colonel knew it, too.

After I finished talking to Will, being awake sounded overrated, so I took a pain pill and went back to bed, waking up much later to the
ping ping
of a text coming in on my phone. I rolled over to grab it and groaned when I saw it was after one in the afternoon. Heck of a nap, right there. Ella’s name flashed on the screen, followed by her text.

Are you home? Can you come over?

I smiled; Mamie couldn’t fault Ella’s grammar. I sent a “yes” to both questions and decided to take another shower. Sleeping during the day always made me feel like I hadn’t bathed for a week. After I started the water, I stripped down, taking a step back from the mirror when I caught my reflection. My arm, with its bright purple waterproof cast, was interesting to look at, but the array of healing scratches, cuts and bruises on my shoulders, face, chest and legs really stood out.

“Holy crap,” I said to the beat up guy staring back at me. I looked like I’d gone three rounds with a UFC champion. Making up a story to explain the injuries to people who didn’t know about my little hobby wouldn’t be hard—car accident. Ella, on the other hand, was bound to freak. Already tired, I cleaned up, then trotted downstairs to tell everyone I was leaving.

Mom looked up from her magazine. “Oh, no you don’t. Until that cast comes off, you aren’t driving. Not with one arm; it isn’t safe. I’ll take you over there.”

Nothing said awesome boyfriend like having your mom drive you over for a visit. “It’s okay…I’ll ask Ella to come get me.”

“Honey, it’s really no problem.” Mom put her magazine down and got up from the recliner.

Mamie took pity on me. “I need to go to the library, Mom. I’ll drive him.”

We beat a quick path from the living room to the garage and I breathed a sigh of relief when the recliner creaked as Mom settled back into it. Once we’d made into Mamie’s car, I asked, “Do you really need to go to the library?”

“No.” Mamie smiled. “I just couldn’t imagine you showing up at Ella’s in Mom’s van. I mean, really, what was the woman thinking?”

“Have I told you you’re the best sister in the world?”

She laughed. “Not today.”

“Well, you are,” I said, nodding for emphasis. “Even if you won’t take my exams for me.”

“I love you, too, Matt.”

Mamie dropped me off and didn’t do me the injustice of waiting to see if I got in okay. Faced with Ella’s front door, the sling around my neck holding my cast in place started to feel like a noose. I’d nearly cheated on her with a demon. What kind of guy did that?

Before I had a chance to run down the driveway to catch Mamie, Ella flung the door open. She was wearing a pink sweater, a pair of jeans and an anxious smile that fell the second she got a good look at me.

“It’s not as bad as it looks,” I said. Like she’d believe that.

She didn’t. “Matt, your poor arm! And your face!” Ella shut the front door behind her and pulled the collar of my sweatshirt forward to peer down inside.

Okay, so maybe that shouldn’t have excited me; it was just a bruise check after all. It did, though, and a shiver ran down my spine.

“I’ll take it off if you want a closer look.” My voice sounded husky. “Some of the bigger bruises are turning cool colors.”

The knife-spirit made a sound like a cat gagging and stomped to the corner of my mind like she was settling in to chaperone. She shouldn’t have bothered to get so worked up, because Ella snorted and let me go. “I was expecting you to be hurt, but this…”

“I’m okay.” I tilted her chin up with my fingers, about to say the mission went well, then stopped.

Flashes of the woman in the cave cut into my thoughts and threatened to bring me to my knees. Schmitz screamed in my head, and the bang of my pistol rang in my ears. I clenched my right hand into a hard fist, sending searing aches up the broken bones inside my cast.

“Hey…take it easy. It’s okay.” Ella said, her forehead creased with concern. She guided me to the porch swing. “Why don’t you sit for a while?”

Perhaps you should take her advice,
the spirit said.
If you re-injure your arm, I’ll be very displeased. We do not have time for extended healing, and I can only work so fast.

Work so fast? Was the spirit going to help heal me? Crud, I wasn’t sure I wanted her to, but faced with a two-against-one scenario, I forced my hand to relax and sat down on the swing with Ella. “I’m just a little on edge about the mission, that’s all. It takes me a while to come down sometimes.”

“I’m not going to make you tell me what happened,” Ella said. “I can tell just by your face that it was bad. That’s all I need to know.”

Somehow, her voice got through the rest of the noise, and next thing I knew, I’d crushed her against my chest and was kissing her like my life depended on it…and maybe it did. Mr. Mitchell’s holly bushes kept us mostly hidden from the street, but I didn’t really care if her parents caught us making out. I needed this, to remind me why the fight was worth it, and Ella seemed to understand. Sure, it was awkward with the cast and sling between us, but the knot of pain in my chest started to loosen a little.

Funny thing? The knife-spirit didn’t butt in this time. Maybe she knew I needed something she couldn’t provide. Or maybe she was smart enough to understand that it would be easier to keep me in line if she cut me some slack every once in a while. Whatever her reason, I wasn’t about to argue.

After drowning myself in Ella’s kiss for a good five minutes, I pulled away and rested my forehead on her shoulder. “Sorry I’m acting weird.”

“You don’t have anything to apologize for.”

If she knew what I’d done, she wouldn’t sound so understanding. “I do, though. I’m all banged up and you’re trying your best to fix me and I’m acting crazy. That’s not how it should be.” I sighed and glared at the trees, thinking about all my failures. “I should be stronger. And I’m not.”

“Matt…” Ella gave me a half-smile that still managed to tell me how worried she was. “You don’t have to save everyone. Sometimes it’s okay to be the one who needs saving.”

You can’t save everyone
. Uncle Mike’s words had a hollow ring in my head. What good was it to be a knife-wielder and be fallible?

Breathing hard, I snapped, “Yeah? Well, that’s unacceptable to me.”

Ella recoiled. “Whoa, what’d I say?”

“Nothing…it’s just…crap,” I said, feeling like a jackass. “I don’t mean to be a jerk. Really.”

She got up from the swing and leaned against the porch railing, facing me. The wind teased at her hair and a few auburn strands caught on the bushes behind her. “I get something’s bothering you and that you don’t want to talk about it, but you’re always like this when you come home. You have this wall up, and it gets thicker and taller every time you come back.”

I could’ve said the same thing about Ella the last few weeks, what with the asking me to forget about her and the cool reception I got when I called home. But this time…this time it
was
my fault.

Ella gave me a long, searching look. “Is it me? Did the knife tell you to keep your distance again?”

“Ella—it has nothing to do with you. I screwed up on the mission,” I choked out. “I made a mistake, and someone died. Schmitz…I had to watch them bury him.”

Tears welled up in Ella’s eyes. She came back to the swing and took my hand. “God, I’m sorry. I’m just so sorry.”

I kissed a couple tears off her face. “You shouldn’t be sorry. I’m the one acting like a nut job. Please don’t be upset with me, okay?”

“I’m not upset with you.” She tucked her feet under her and leaned against my good shoulder. “I’m upset
for
you.”

We sat on the swing, quiet, until close to dinnertime, then Ella drove me home in her Mazda. It still had that new car smell and I managed a little smile, thinking about the time we made out by the pond, when she gave me the St. Christopher medal. Ella seemed lost in her thoughts, too. After we pulled into my driveway, she unbuckled her seatbelt to give me a goodnight kiss. The kiss was soft, but there was an edge to it, something that bothered me. Not for the first time, I felt like I’d missed out on a crucial message. My heart still felt heavy, though, and I was so tired, I decided to wait to ask her about it, forgetting that sometimes waiting only made things worse.

Chapter Twenty-Seven

I
took my finals the second
week of May so I could start my summer early. I needed the break; the heat was making me miserable. My arm itched like crazy inside my cast whenever it got sweaty, and I still had two weeks before it came off. Although, according to my doctors, I should’ve had to wear it another
four
weeks because I’d fractured my forearm in three places and one of the breaks was pretty severe. At my last appointment, the orthopedist had stared at my X-rays a really long time, saying nothing but, “Huh.” When I asked what he meant, he just shook his head and mumbled something about how “kids heal fast.”

The knife-spirit had snickered outright when the doctor said that. I wasn’t surprised. Jorge had healed me with some kind of magic in the Amazon last year but, thinking back on it, he probably had help. And the spirit didn’t stop there—one morning, I woke up with this crazy urge to work out. The cast made weightlifting nearly impossible, so I ended up going on a five-mile hike through the woods with a weighted backpack strapped to my shoulders. I did it every day, whether I felt like it or not. If I even
thought
about skipping, I found myself in the woods, doing a seven-mile hike instead of five.

It seemed Colonel Black wasn’t the only one eager to see me fit for duty.

With the removal of my cast, I had to face another problem, and it nagged me as I flew to D.C. to see Ramirez and attend a briefing with Uncle Mike and Colonel Black a week after finals. I had a feeling we were gearing up for another deployment. With Ramirez still recovering, I had to be ready to go, especially with the knife stirring in the back of my head, pinging off warnings and giving me orders. My body would probably be ready, but would my mind? Schmitz’s face still haunted my nightmares, and the memory of shooting the little girl made me wonder if I could even raise the blade in combat ever again. The thought of fighting gave me a sour feeling in my stomach. If I couldn’t bear to fight, what good was I?

I forced myself to ignore the doubts as the plane landed. I’d have to appear strong for Ramirez, whether I felt it or not.

The humidity made my arm itch the second I hit the jetway in D.C. Wishing I could claw my cast off, but glad for the distraction from other, deeper concerns, I fought my way through baggage claim at Reagan to look for my ride.

“Matt!” Aunt Julie called. She waddled my direction, wearing a black maternity dress and flip flops. Her belly led the way and sweat beaded on her forehead. I felt a little stupid for whining about my itching arm.

“Man, bet you can’t wait for July first, huh?” I asked as we left the air conditioned terminal. The air was heavy and stagnant, and Julie puffed for air by the time we reached her car in short-term parking.