The knife took over full time. I was thrown aside in my own brain and my right hand lashed out, driving the blade up under the Cat's jaw, then twisting. The beast's weight came crashing down across my torso but I braced my feet and pushed hard with my knees until I lifted the Cat from the ground, which give me just enough room to shimmy out from under the body.

I lay there for a few minutes. At least, I think it was a few minutes. It might've been an hour; I'd had my bell rung, so I couldn't be sure. My head pounded as the knife-spirit withdrew, but I still felt Tink's pleasure from the fight pulsing through my blood.

In the distance, an animal howled, maybe a jackal. Even in my woozy state, I knew it wasn't a good idea to lie prone in the middle of the Kalahari at night, especially while covered in blood. That was bound to attract the wrong kind of attention and I might end up a snack for the more natural predators out here.

Breathing hard, I picked myself up, marveling at how every muscle in my body seemed to be hurt. My left sleeve was in shreds and three long gashes ran down my arm, to match the scratch along my shoulder. Something warm slicked my forehead, too. I probed my scalp and found a pretty good cut actively trickling blood onto my eyebrow. My ribs ached from where more than one Cat had tried to squash me.

The knife-spirit continued to withdraw, and as she did, each of these hurts started making itself well known. I had no idea how far I'd come from camp, but I felt like I'd been in a car accident then thrown off a cliff. Each step was harder than the last, until I couldn't keep going.

I collapsed in a heap on top of a prickly bush and passed out.

Chapter Fifteen.

Someone was talking way too loudly. Each word pierced my skull like a bullet.

"I still can't believe those cat things from last night," the man said. "They looked like these aliens I saw in a comic book once. It was badass!"

"No," Johnson's bass rumble answered, sounding more than a little annoyed. "It was terrifying, Sergeant. Did you see what they did to Wilson? One of them gutted him with a single swipe. What if that had been you? Would you think they were so badass then?"

"But, still! They were seven-feet tall anda""

I let out a groan and rolled onto my side. Bad idea. Before I even opened my eyes all the way, I barfed over the side of my bunk, squinting just enough to make sure I didn't splatter my blanket. Someone had thought to put a bucket on the ground by my bed; my lucky day. Parts of this team were getting too familiar with the aftermath of my hunts.

The tent was awash in daylight, and my eyes launched a protest by sending death rays into my forehead when I cracked my eyelids open. Right, eyes closeda"good. Eyes opena"bad. I flopped back into bed, trying to find a comfortable way to settle. Someone had wrapped my torso with an Ace bandage, but my ribs still stabbed me every time I pulled in air. My forearms were killing me, too, as if I'd tried to hold up a skyscraper with just my hands. I groaned again, appropriately miserable.

"Matt, take it easy," Johnson said. "We'll fix itajust rest. Tyson, go find the major."

"How far from camp was I when you found me?"

Enough silence ticked by for me to realize I'd passed the limit of everyone's freak scale once again. Finally, Johnson said, "Half a mile."

Half a mile? How was that even possible? On my best day, I couldn't do a mile in less than five and a half minutes. I might've run after those Cats for about two minutes, but I doubted it was even that long. I flexed my toes and searing pain ran up my shins. Maybe light speed could be added to my list of knife-possessed talents, but if this kind of misery was the price, I'd rather take a nice stroll next time.

"We get them all?"

"That depends," Johnson said. "How many did you kill out on the savannah?"

"Two."

"We got them all, then. Brandt took care of the one that tried to slink away with Wilson's body after we'd cleaned out camp."

I nodded once, wincing. We'd lost another man. I didn't know Wilson well, but it never got easier to hear. Doubts crept up, telling me I should've been faster, that I could've saved him if only Iaif only. My ribs throbbed and I forced the thoughts away. "So now what?"

"Now," Uncle Mike said from somewhere near the tent flap, "we take Wilson, Peters and Azara home to their families for burial and the rest of us go on a short furlough."

I forced my eyes open. The tent swam to the point it looked like the canvas walls might collapse. Nope, keeping my eyelids closed was still the right option. After a steadying breath, I said, "But the threat's still active."

"Ramirez and his team will be here in two days to cover for us while we're gone. Colonel Black wants us rested and back here by December twenty-eighth in advance of the eclipse," Mike said. "He changed up the schedule after my wife told General Richardson that Africa might be at the greatest risk during the next cycle, based on an email she received from you and Mamie. Julie doesn't think Jorge needs an extra wielder this time and suggested Ramirez come here instead, to see if we can eliminate the threat quickly and move on to China and Australia."

There was a pause. "Funny how I didn't hear about this from you or Mamie first."

Oops. "Um, yeah."

A cot squeaked and Johnson said, "I think I'll go find someadinosaurs or something."

"Thanks for bailing on me, man," I said.

"Hey, you cost me ten dollars, Mr. Three-Point-Five GPA," Johnson said. "And this is family businessaas in, none of mine."

A breeze wafted across my face, announcing his departure out the tent flap, and I was left alone to face the music, blinded by a headache. This day just kept on getting better.

Mike let me stew a full minute before asking, "So when were you going to tell me that you emailed Julie?"

"I emailed the captain because she's military intelligence and this seemed like intel." I pried my eyes open again. My uncle looked haggard, with cuts and bruises on his face and hands, but I'm sure it was nothing compared to what I looked like. I dreaded the next time I saw a mirror. "I'm sorry I didn't tell you. I've had a lot on my mind lately."

"Of courseayou're right." He sighed. "I think we're all stretched a little thin."

My uncle had a gift for understatement. "Think you can do something to stop the jackhammer going off in my skull?"

"I'll send the medic in to give you a shot. Rest today, and we'll ship out after Ramirez gets here." I heard the canvas rub together as Mike opened the tent flap. "Oh, and Matt? Happy Thanksgiving."

I woke from a nap on Saturday afternoon to the growl of an approaching Humvee. I rolled onto my side, preparing to be the welcome wagon. As long as I took it slow, I could get up from my cot without wishing I had a pocketful of ibuprofen. My head was fine now; my ribs were another story. They'd be healed in a few days, though, thanks to Tink's ability to speed up my recovery. Just in time to go home.

When I made my way outside, the glare of the sun fried the top of my head, but I'd gotten used to the heat somewhat, and it felt good to be up and moving around. Especially when I found out who was in the arriving Humvee.

Major Ramirez was in camp.

He looked much better than the last time I'd seen him. He'd regained most of the weight he'd lost while being held captive in the caves in Afghanistan, and the shadows under his eyes had faded. His pallor was gone, too. When Ramirez saw me, he flashed me a grin of white teeth, which shone against healthy-looking brown skin. He looked strong, like a man who could lead an army.

"Matt Archer, it's been a while," he said, crossing camp to shake my hand. When I winced under his grip, he shook his head. "You look like someone threw you in a blender and hit puree."

"Sounds about right, sir," I said. "I'm sure you were briefed on all that already, though. How's Jorge?"

Ramirez laughed; it was good to hear. "About the same. Comes and goes as silently as a panther. There's been some kind of sickness upriver, so he spent a lot of time tending to those people while we searched for any signs of supernatural trouble. We didn't find a thing. The whole rainforest was quiet." He glanced at my face, probably admiring the greenish bruise on my cheek. "Unlike here."

"It was quiet here until Wednesday night. And it's been quiet since." I tried to squash the uneasy feeling in my stomach. That attack should've been the start of a real campaign, but it was like the Cats had disappeared.

"Maybe it'll stay that way while you're on furlough, too." Ramirez stared out over the savannah. The scrubby bushes were more dried up than usual and a dust cloud kicked up in a hot wind that hadn't stopping blowing for nearly two weeks. "This terrain doesn't offer a lot of cover, does it?"

"No, sir," I said. "How's your knife-ESP these days?"

He gave me a speculative look. "We're on pretty good terms. Not as good as you, of course, but it's been decent about letting me know if something'sa""

"Well, well, well, if it's not the mighty Gator Killer of the Amazon," a voice called across camp.

I glanced over to see a stocky Master Sergeant waving at me. I rolled my eyes skyward, seeking help from whatever was up there. Just the sun. "How's it going, Murphy?"

"Pretty good, other than being irritated that you had me dragged out of a relatively nice jungle to hang out in the Kalahari at the beginning of their summer." Murphy came over and gave me an exaggerated, gentle pat on the head. "We heard about your mishap. You feeling better, Boo Boo?"

I glared at Ramirez, who was laughing into his hand. "You just had to bring him, didn't you?"

Ramirez shook his head. "This one's on you, Archer, for getting us reassigned. But if you want, we can blame Mamie for her research since she's not here to defend herself."

Johnson stalked by carrying a stack of crates and gave Ramirez a dark look. "Do not take our Lord's name in vain. Mamie might smite us all the way from Montana."

We all cracked up as Johnson professed his newfound faith. "That girl has a lair in a dormant volcano somewhere, and she'll rule us all one day. Mark my words."

He took off to direct the guys unpacking the new supplies, and Murphy turned to me with a glint in his eye. "Archer, I'm still waiting to hear if you made it to second base, yet. Last time I checked, we had failure to launch."

I just stared at him, my heart in my shoes; my status as single must not have made the rounds. The crappy thing was that I had made it to second baseajust with the wrong girl.

Ramirez took one look at my face and said, "Not now, Master Sergeant. The kid looks a little tired. Let's cut him a break."

Murphy glanced between us. "Sir, yes sir. I'llago help unload the truck."

He hurried off, sneaking a look at me over his shoulder. I'd never seen Murphy without either a teasing smirk or a scowl; he was a hardass of the first order. The worried, confused expression he wore now only made me feel worse.

Suddenly the heat was too much, the sun too bright. "I should go rest until it cools off a little."

Ramirez nodded. "I'll take it from here."

I beat a quick path back to my cot, but once I got inside, I heard Murphy talking quietly to Johnson behind my tent, having some kind of private conversation. "adidn't mean to sucker-punch the kid. I've never seen him so stressed out, Lieutenant."

"Yeah, we're all kind of concerned," Johnson said. "He's been nothing but business out here. The kid he used to be, all earnest and funny and eager? That Matt died somewhere in Afghanistan."

"Seems like it." With more mischief in his voice, Murphy added, "You know, I think he just needs to get laid."

"Murph, that's your answer for everything," Johnson rumbled, but he sounded amused by the idea.

Did they really talk about me like that? Did they think it was funny to be running around with a nearly seventeen-year-old virgin who was so tied to his work that he couldn't even keep a girlfriend?

I covered my head with my pillow, wishing I had enough brain bleach to forget I'd ever heard that conversation.

Chapter Sixteen.

After saying our goodbyes to Ramirez and his team, we started the long trek back home. Brandt and his guysa"along with most of my teama"were headed to Fort Carson, but Lieutenant Johnson and I were going to D.C. with Uncle Mike. I'd mostly healed up from my crazy run across the desert, but I was still ready to go home.

While we loitered outside the duty-free shops at the Frankfurt airport, waiting for our flight, Uncle Mike pointed at a fancy emerald pendant on a thin gold chain. "You think Julie might like a necklace?"

Not knowing how things had gone at home while we were off in the Kalahari, I couldn't say for sure. I shrugged. "Bribery works sometimes."

"I hope so," he said and ducked into the store.

We were quiet on the way home. Johnson slept nearly the whole way, only waking up long enough to eat and flirt with the cute flight attendant working our section. She must've liked it, because every time I looked up, there she was, asking if I needed a beverage. Too bad Johnson wasn't awake to notice.

Mike fidgeted and kept patting his jacket pocket. I'd seen the price tag for the necklacearent on some apartments was less expensive. As we landed at Reagan early Monday afternoon, I hopeda"for both our sakesa"jewelry would be enough.

Aunt Julie and Baby Kate met us at the airport. Katie, bundled up in her stroller, was chewing on one fist and waving a felt doll with the other. Mike's grin almost split his face down the middle when he saw the baby, and he left me to snag the luggage so he could pick her up. I had to admit, my cousin was cute enough to reduce grown men to googly-eyed fools. Heck, I kept playing peekaboo and making faces at her behind Mike's back, feeling like a huge success when she smiled and waved her doll at me.

Katie had gotten a lot bigger since I last saw her. No longer a preemie fighting to breathe on her own, she'd grown into a chubby six-month old with curly dark hair and brown eyes as big and pretty as her mother's. I even saw the hint of a tooth on her lower gum. Knowing she was healthy made me feel better. She also gave me an ironclad reason to keep fighting; I wanted her to grow up strong and happy, never having to be afraid of monsters.

Aunt Julie stood apart from us, watching the scene with a faint smile. She was wearing her class Bsa"she must've come from worka"but like usual she had that effortless gorgeous thing going on, even in the navy and white uniform, with her dark hair in a tight bun. I waved at her and she nodded, then went back to watching Mike plant noisy kisses all over Katie's fat cheeks. Even though we were in a crowded airport, she looked totally alone.

As soon as I lugged Mike's duffel free from the baggage carousel, I marched over, took the baby from him and whispered, "Dude, go kiss your wife."

He did what I said, but even poor-Matt-who's-not-a-man-yet could tell it was routine. Aunt Julie's expression was about as warm as Himalayas in winteraand I'd been there, so it was an accurate comparison. I packed Katie into her stroller, wondering how I'd survive the night in such frosty conditions. My flight home to Billings didn't leave until noon tomorrow; I might freeze to death before then.

On the drive home, my aunt and uncle were so quiet that I rode the elephant in the room just to break the ice. "Find out anything interesting while we were gone, Badaum, Aunt Julie?"

When she laughed, I relaxed a little. "Matt, I know you call me Badass Aunt Julie. I don't mind, because it's true." Julie smiled at me over the passenger seat of Mike's Jeep. "We've been chasing down some weird leads coming out of Australia. The CIA has been following a human trafficking ring, and they uncovered something. They sent me the file."

Australiaa"it couldn't be a coincidence. "What'd the CIA find?"

"An organization called *Nocturna Maura' is buying childrena"for what, we don't know." Aunt Julie's expression hardened as she glanced at Katie in her car seat. "After some digging, I found out the group's a cover for a coven of witches who practice *dark arts.' The CIA has asked their operative to gather more details for us, but right now, that's all we have."

"Huh," I said. The word "witches" reminded me of somethinga "Oh! When I was in Canada in October, I met this professor at Carlton University who studies modern witchcraft. Maybe she can help you."

"It couldn't hurt to give her a call, I guess," Julie said. "So far, we're running this investigation on whispers in dark alleys and rumors based on rumors. We can use whatever help we can get."

When we made it back to their three-bedroom condo, I marveled at the change a kid makes to a family's house. Instead of the Spartan furnishings they'd had B.K. (before Katie), now it looked like a Babies R Us had exploded in the living room. One of those saucer things was parked next to a playpen and stackable bins of toys. An army of bottles were drying on the sideboard next to the kitchen sink and jars of baby food lined the counter.

"You guys need a bigger place," I said. "Remember, I promised Kate I'd buy her a pony when she's six. At the very least, you need a yard."

Aunt Julie sighed. "Maybe once Mike's deployment is over. Right now, there's no sense in trying to find something permanent."

Mike's back stiffened. He'd been on his way to their bedroom to change, but he turned and said, "You're stationed here long-term. We shouldn't let my deployment stop us. We could go house hunting while I'm home."

"Neither of us has any kind of stability right now. The last thing we need is a house," Aunt Julie snapped, before stomping into the kitchen.

At that, Kate started fussing and I was too tired to sit through an argument. "I think Katie and I should go for a walk. Seems like you two have some stuff to talk over while we're gone."