Matt Archer: Bloodlines (Matt Archer #4) by Kendra C. Highley Page A

presents.” Carrie put her hands on her
hips. “You can ask one more question, then I’m leaving. It’s too dangerous
here.”
    Johnson knocked on the men’s room door. “You in there, man?”
    The look Carrie gave me was pure panic. “Fine, okay,” I
said. “Will’s blind. We freed him from the demon, but he can’t see.”
    She gasped. “I was hoping the demon wouldn’t rise since I
didn’t close the circle.”
    “Well, it did,” I said. “So, how do we fix Will?”
    Carrie grabbed a bag she’d hidden behind the sink and dug
around inside. “He needs to see his past to know his present. He’s blocked. The
demon fragmented itself and cut him off from his fathers, which are the source
of his strength.” She pressed a bunch of fragrant leaves into my hand.
“Eucalyptus. Crush it, soak it in boiling water and have him breathe the steam
while you remind him who he is.”
    “Will doesn’t have a cold—he’s freaking blind!” I reached
for her arm. “He’s right outside. I know you can help him. Just come with us.”
    “No chance, mate.” She took a step away from me. “If I come
with you, I’m as good as dead. They called them all, don’t you understand?
You’re the only defense between them and Perth. They’ll come for you, following
the trail we laid, but they won’t stop there unless you stop them. I’m leaving while I still can, in case you fail.” The glare she gave me was
cold enough to freeze a guy’s balls. “Tell Will the story of his past. Talk
about his fathers. That’s all he needs to know.”
    “Besides his dad, I don’t know any of that stuff!”
    “Then find someone who does,” she hissed. “I’m out of here.”
    Before I could blink, I’d flown across the bathroom and
smacked into the wall, thrown by a gust of wind. Or maybe it was a small
cyclone. When I turned around, rubbing my face, Carrie was gone.
     

Chapter Twelve
     
     
    “She just left?” Dad asked for the tenth time as we hurried
out of Norseman like the Vikings were chasing us down.
    “Disappeared,” I insisted. “She…threw me somehow and, poof,
she was gone. You’d think she was a witch or something.”
    Nobody laughed. Not even me.
    “And she said to remind me who I am?” Will’s face was
scrunched up in frustration. “What does that mean?”
    “I have no idea,” I told him, equally frustrated.
    “My dad doesn’t even know what his great-grandfather’s name
was,” Will said. “I asked one time for a school project, and he said his
parents died before he thought to ask them.”
    If his own dad didn’t know, who could remind him about his
fathers? It’s not like we could do this big ancestry search in the middle of
the desert…
    Then again—maybe someone else could.
    “Wait,” I said. “When we get back, we need to ask Davis if I
can email Mamie.”
    Uncle Mike nodded. “Good idea.”
    “Why?” Dad asked.
    “Because Mamie is good at telling stories,” I said.
“Especially if they’re true and involve research.”
    Will leaned back in his seat, already looking more relaxed.
“Okay then.”
    “Seriously, though, why were you so uptight earlier?” I
asked him after the others started discussing routes back to camp.
    “Other than being blind?”
    Ouch. “You seem to be dealing with that sort of okay…but
when we mentioned ‘Norseman’ I could practically see your blood pressure rise.”
    He rubbed his arms, like he was cold. “My hair stood on end,
and Coach Shaw perked up. It put me on edge.”
    I remembered that Tink had stirred some, too. There was
something about that town. “Maybe Mamie will find some answers for us.”
    “If not…” He groped around and rested his hand on his
knife’s handle. “You need to send me home. I’m a liability out here.”
    “Says the guy who killed a mob of Dingoes blind.”
    “But the eclipse will be worse. I’ll just be in the way.”
    I reached out to grip his forearm. “You won’t be. I promise.”
    The question was,