I had several missed calls and messages from Archer but didn’t dare respond while in the first intense flare of energy. I redesigned several experiments for the vampire’s blood based on what I reviewed of the data from Archer’s group, and reviewed what happened in the woods earlier in the day for any indicators of the initial werewolf’s approach. A roll of acetate spread over a map on the kitchen table let me copy over all the data points I’d gathered for the Jamie search, and the moment the library in town opened, I wiggled past the startled librarian and headed for the back room.
Their map collection far exceeded my own. I aligned my acetate to the same topographic map in the library, and spread both out on the table so I could overlay more detailed maps in the right location. Contour lines and geo-coords would pinpoint exactly where Dragomir found Jamie’s things abandoned. Once I knew where that was, I could evaluate that location in relation to Jamie’s original hike, identify trails that used to be in the vicinity, maybe even plot the evidence I’d found of cryptids in that part of the park.
I froze, leaning over the table, as I stared down at the green and brown smudges and thin black lines stacking up on top of each other. A bolt of inspiration crashed into me. What if Jamie found the Ozark Howler? He’d been close, or so he claimed, and went out in a hurry after one of his trail cameras captured something. I scanned the acetate until I found those dots and ticks, done in bright orange, and started aligning them around the new map with the details around the found items.
My heart already felt like a hummingbird flapping under my ribs, but I could have sworn it sped up even more. Approaching stroke levels, no doubt. I gnawed my lower lip and fidgeted with the pen. The Ozark Howler… could it have been the thing that warned away the werewolves? Or was that what tore up Jamie’s gear and left his boot behind?
I shook my head, thoughts flowing too quickly as I considered and discarded half a dozen hypotheses. My ribs tweaked as I turned too quickly to search for a survey map from the 70s, before the Park Service wanted to re-wild the area, and reminded me of the previous day’s exertions fighting werewolves. The vampire blood dulled all but a few bruises, but it was a small price to pay for the superhuman senses that connected me to the entire universe.
Which alerted me to the soft friction of shoes on the industrial carpet just outside the map room. I didn’t turn but sound and scent and taste told me Archer approached. Alone, relaxed, wearing mostly cotton. I held my breath. Was that how Dragomir sensed the world all the time? How was it possible that he found my head too noisy, if all of that banged around inside his skull all the time? My brain had to be way less cluttered.
I blinked and straightened. “What?”
“I said ‘good morning,’” Archer said. He moved to the table next to me and studied the map. “I left you a couple of messages but didn’t hear back.”
“Knocked out early last night,” I said, forcing a smile. My knees weakened when I got a good look at him, got a good lungful of the enchanting cedar and linen scent that clung to him. I could practically hear his beard growing and the blood pumping in his veins in the silence of the library.
His healthy, living veins. The rich, red blood full of oxygen and iron, circulating so close to the skin…
I shook myself and retreated a few steps under the guise of pulling another map. Sure, I wanted to devour Archer in those perfect jeans and with those mouth-watering lips just begging to be kissed… I was almost eighty percent certain it wasn’t “devour” like Dragomir would have meant, no matter how his blood sounded as it whooshed through his heart.
Maybe seventy-five percent.
Definitely no lower than sixty.
I put a copy of a much older map from the 19th Century down and worked on aligning it with the newer maps. With the right information and motivation, maybe I could direct Archer and his team to search the area around where Dragomir found Jamie’s things. The Ozark Howler was probably in the area, so it wasn’t like I’d take them away from hunting dangerous cryptids. That assumed the werewolves wouldn’t follow them into the area and kill the Howler, too.
Archer leaned his hip on the table and eyed me. “You okay, Ada? You look a little… high strung.”
“Over-rested, I think.” My right eyelid twitched. “And over-caffeinated. Why aren’t you wandering in the woods looking for wolves?”
He suspected something, but at least he looked bemused more than intense. I faced the friendly, flirty Archer, not the one that wanted to stay professional and interrogate me after finding blood in my fridge and a waterhound in my bathroom. I’d chased Hopper around the cabin for a solid hour to redirect some of the energy, until the waterhound flopped under my bed and refused to move.
Archer nodded slowly, head tilted. “Yeah, you look a little over-caffeinated. I’m waiting for the data to download from the infrared cameras that we set up yesterday before we plan what to do next. And I wanted to check on you. You were pretty shaken up yesterday. Are you sure you’re okay?”
The bracelet I’d made from Jamie’s broken laces, braided with some of my own, snagged on the edge of the acetate, reminding me of my brother and the true objective. Whatever Archer brought to the table, whatever promise I’d seen in his eyes and felt in the overwhelming intensity of his kiss… that was just a flash in the pan.
No matter how much he talked about going on adventures around the globe and working together in a huge amazing lab with tons of people feeding me samples and evidence. If I recommended solutions to the problems created by cryptid-human interaction, maybe they would implement them. Whoever “they” were, anyway. But that wasn’t a dream I could have. Not yet.
“I’m good,” I said. I cleared my throat and refused to look at him. He was far too observant and would probably note my dilated pupils, twitching eyelid, and the heat building in my cheeks. “Thanks for asking. I just need to focus on finding my brother.”
Archer nodded, glancing at some of the maps. He picked up the 19th Century one and studied the smudged lines and strange markings. “Of course. This afternoon we’re going to go through the video from yesterday and identify the next place to start searching. The werewolves prefer the same sort of environment that sustains human life, so anywhere they’ve hunkered down would also be suitable for your brother. You can join us for lunch, then…”
He went on, those mesmerizing eyes raking over me again and again, searching for something. I felt his attention like a caress and closed my eyes, wanting to lean into him. Kissing him with all my senses heightened would be heavenly. Transcendental. Really fucking hot.
But Dragomir made clear how he felt about Archer and his team distracting me with werewolf and cryptid searches. If the vampire found more evidence of Jamie’s location, he could hold it hostage if he saw me still working with Archer. Dragomir might even find Jamie and not tell me. I steeled myself as I met Archer’s gaze and pushed away regret that it couldn’t go further, at least not now.
“And from what Isidro said about the cameras, something transited the same area at a much slower pace after we departed. Humanoid in shape, bipedal. Not hairy enough for a werewolf, but too hairy for a man.” Archer shook his head and sat, leaning back, as I kept buzzing around the table rolling up maps. “With your experience in that part of the park, it’ll be…”
“I can’t,” I said. I checked the acetate one more time, then sprayed it with hairspray to fix the marker in place. “I’m not going anywhere with you guys.”
Archer’s eyebrows drew together. “Is this about what happened yesterday?”
“Yes,” I said. “Almost dying in the woods in the jaws of a beast isn’t something I want to repeat any time soon.”
“I understand that,” he said slowly. Archer glanced at some of the articles the librarians looked up for me and left on one of the chairs. His eyebrows arched and he held one up for me to see. “Genome degradation due to UV exposure? Are you particularly worried about sunburn?”
I managed to smile despite my teeth beginning to chatter. “My complexion is rather fair, I don’t know if you noticed. I’m interested in the potential impact of sun exposure.”
“Tell me more,” he said. And he waited, studying me closely.
My nerves twitched. “Why are you looking at me like that?”
“Something is different,” he said. He didn’t look wary, precisely, just… intrigued. Focused. “You’re acting a little strange, a little jumpy, and until right now, all you wanted to do was go out and find cryptids so more people would look for your brother. And now you’re studying sunburn and looking at maps. Maybe fill me in and I can help you with whatever crazy plan you have now.”
“No plan,” I said. I fidgeted with the mailing tube after sliding the maps into it.
He smiled and sat forward to boop the end of my nose. “And that’s how I know you’re hiding something. You always have a plan, and even if you don’t, you make one up on the spot if you need to.”
My insides shivered. Did he really know me? What did I even know about him? I couldn’t have said what his last name was, or who he actually worked for, or where he lived. He was a transient ghost, flickering through Chilhowee on his way to somewhere else.
I couldn’t look at him. “Maybe I’m trying to stay professional.”
Archer stilled, then nodded. “Understood. Then as a professional with a contract, you won’t mind joining us to review the tapes.”
“My contract was to film a documentary,” I said slowly. “Not aid and abet the murder of relic hominids or support the extinction of a whole species.”
“We’re still filming about cryptids,” he said. Archer shrugged but next took his attention off my face. “A different kind of cryptid than we initially expected to find. We can still find evidence related to your brother. Nothing has fundamentally changed.”
My eyebrows arched. “You must be kidding. You went from overly serious but still kooky cryptid researchers to a paramilitary group hunting supernatural prey overnight.”
“It’s not quite so dramatic.” Amusement drew a few lines around his eyes. “There’s another set of trails to the west of where the wolves ran that look promising. We’ll do a quick survey and retrieve the cameras to reset and place them elsewhere.”
“I’m sure I’d just slow you down.” The urge to flee increased. He sat between me and the door, and even though he stayed relaxed and sprawled in the chair, I knew from experience he could react faster than me even on vampire blood.
“And I’m sure you bring a whole lot more to the group than you think,” he said gently. “So why are you suddenly hesitant to go anywhere with us?”
My breath caught. I wanted to warn him that something more dangerous than werewolves stalked the forest, and the deeper and darker the park got, the more likely that they would run into Dragomir. Archer already annoyed the vampire and Dragomir would take any opportunity to rid me of the distraction.
Archer’s attention sharpened as I hesitated. He leaned forward, gaze searching. “What do I need to know, Ada?”
He would believe me if I told him it was smarter to stay away, although it would invite all kinds of questions for me. What would he think if I told him a vampire lived nearby? Would they get a posse together to hunt him down? The St. Albert medallion weighed me down. I couldn’t risk losing a lead to Jamie. Not now that I was closer than ever to finding him.
I just shook my head. “It’s nothing. Just a bad feeling.”
Archer’s head tilted. “I don’t believe you.”
“There’s nothing I can tell you, Archer.”
“What can I do to change your mind about that? What’ll get you to spill your guts?”
Taking his shirt off would have been a hell of a start. My cheeks heated at the stray thought and I ducked my head under the pretext of searching my bag for something. “It’s nothing. I have a lot of work to do and really shouldn’t…”
“We might have caught video of that mysterious creature you said you saw yesterday.” Archer arched his eyebrows in challenge. “Or are you scared we won’t see it?”
“I actually saw it, and I’m not scared.” I sighed and gathered up my things to get back to the cabin. The plaster cast of Dragomir’s face would be ready to create the mold for the silicone masks, and I needed to figure out how to get doll hair to stick to it. “I really just… I can’t explain it. Be careful.”
He stood to go with me as I edged into the stacks and escaped to the chill air outside. Archer opened the truck door for me, and stood back as I threw in the maps and my bag into the passenger seat. He leaned against the side and studied me. “I don’t know if the werewolves rattled you yesterday or maybe it was everything the night before. But I’ll be here when you’re ready to talk, whether that’s professional to professional or something else.”
Archer sauntered off before I could come up with a response, and I watched his fine butt retreat to the SUVs parked outside the diner. He went inside and no doubt joined the group at a back table. And there I sat in my cold truck, about to drive to my empty house. My hands tightened on the steering wheel. It was the right thing. They could handle themselves with the werewolves. It was their job, apparently. Dragomir knew how I felt about Archer and I’d warned him of the consequences if anything happened to the man.
It had to be enough.