Make Me A Match (The Matchmaker) Page 13

  After Sebastian left, Owen had barely said a word. I’d tried to sleep on the plane, but mostly I’d found myself thinking about Owen’s harsh words. We hadn’t even sat side by side, but across the aisle from each other. I had a feeling Owen had purposefully purchased us separate seats. It was obvious he wanted to stay as far away from me as possible. And it hurt. For some stupid reason, it hurt. I wasn’t his type? Well, that was great because he sure as heck wasn’t my type either. Stupid, boring, law-abiding jerk. He was probably more my grandmother’s type. No doubt if she really got to know him, she’d love him.

  So we’d kissed…twice. Yes, he was rather gorgeous. And yes, the moment he’d absorbed my pain, I’d felt something that one could call gratitude. But anything more? No. Of course not. It wasn’t as if I held some delusion that we were going to get married and vacation on the Riviera. After which, I’d shove out two brats and we’d buy a house in the suburbs. In fact, the very thought made me sort of ill.

  And now here I was on a train that would take us to the small medieval town where I’d see my cottage for the first time, and once again I was alone because Owen was ignoring me. I pressed my forehead to the cool glass, attempting to decipher the small towns from the dimly lit scenery. The sun was setting, a fiery ball of orange over fields of purple lavender, but the beauty was lost on me. I couldn’t escape the fact that Owen was avoiding me, and it sucked.

  “Thé, café, chocolat chaud?” A woman pushing a cart paused next to me.

  “I’m sorry.” I shook my head, giving her an apologetic smile. “I don’t speak French.”

  “Tea, coffee, or hot chocolate,” Owen said, appearing beside the woman.

  He’d changed into gray slacks and a white button-down shirt that contrasted with his dark hair, the most relaxed I’d ever seen him. But he still looked more put together than most guys his age…like he should be featured in World’s Youngest Billionaires.

  “Oh.” I straightened, surprised to see him. We’d gotten our own private car, and Owen had disappeared into the small room the moment we stepped foot on the train. While I had been too anxious to sit still and had ended up here. “Hot chocolate.”

  “Thé, s’il vous plaît,” Owen said.

  Of course he spoke perfect French. And of course he seemed even sexier when he did. I wasn’t surprised; the world was out to torment me. He settled in the chair across from me, a small table with a white tablecloth between us. I could feel his intense scrutiny, but instead of meeting his gaze I smiled up at the woman setting our drinks upon the table. Unfortunately, she was done quickly and left us all too soon.

  “How much longer?” I asked, wrapping my hands around my cup. I was anxious to arrive, anxious to see what I owned, and anxious to figure out this new life.

  He glanced at his watch. Not a hair was out of place, and his glasses were back on. I had a feeling he hid behind those glasses, attempting to make himself less attractive. Yes, a man like Owen wouldn’t want to be thought of as hot.

  “Two hours, maybe.”

  I sipped my chocolate, the taste warm and welcome. He fit in here, the sophisticated man that he was. While I, in my jeans and jacket, looked like an orphaned waif. “I’m eager to see this cottage.” Yeah, I was basically making awkward small talk.

  He picked up his tea. “We aren’t going to the cottage.”

  He said it so casually that it took a moment for the words to sink in. I set my cup down, the bottom clanking hard against the tabletop. “What are you talking about?”

  He just sipped his tea again, completely unfazed. “We’re not going to your aunt’s cottage. We never were.”

  “But…but you said…”

  He settled the cup on his saucer. “I said nothing of the sort. I said we were going to France.”

  Frantically I searched my mind, attempting to remember our conversations. Perhaps he was right. Damn. I sank back into my chair and glared at him. “Well, just wonderful. Where, exactly, are we going?”

  “To the Consulate.”

  It sounded rather stiff and formal, not surprising. “What is that?”

  “Where we gather and learn.”

  “Like a commune? You going to have me at the airport with a shaved head, while I hand out flowers?”

  “You’ll be protected there.”

  I leaned forward, attempting to keep the conversation between the two of us. “Protected,” I whispered. “From what, because I still don’t really understand what the heck’s going on.”

  “You will soon enough.” He gently pushed his tea away, apparently finished, although I hadn’t even begun. “Come with me.”

  He stood, but I remained stubbornly in my chair, confused and leery. Was he actually going to give me answers, or was this some setup? “Why? Where are we going?”

  He sighed. “Must you always question everything?”

  “Wouldn’t you? Or would you merely trust someone you’d only just met?”

  “Touché.” He latched on to my elbow and pulled me to my feet. That close, I could smell his warm scent, and had to resist the urge to sink into him. “Just trust me…this once.”

  He led me out of the food car. The halls were empty, most people settling down for bed in their sleeping cars, or at supper in the dining car. The soft light along the halls provided a romantic glow that made me feel as if I were in some sort of artsy foreign movie.

  “Owen, what will happen when we reach this Consulate?” I tripped beside him, attempting to keep up with his fast pace. “I mean, who are these people? Where do they come from? Where do you…” I paused, realizing he wasn’t listening to me in the least. I started to reprimand him when I realized his grip was tense, too tense. In my line of work, I’d had to become an expert in body language.

  I realized in that moment that I’d missed something. “What’s wrong?”

  He slid our keycard across the scanner next to our door. “They’ve found us.”

  My heart slammed wildly against my chest. I assumed he didn’t mean Publishers Clearing House. Damn it all, why’d he have to be so casual about things that we should be anything but casual about? It made it really difficult to know when I was supposed to panic. “Who? Another demon?”

  “No, not a demon. If it were a demon, you’d know by the screams.”

  If all demons looked like the one in my bedroom, I supposed there would be an uproar by now. Oh God, what was it then? “It’s on the train right now?”

  “Not it, they.” He pushed open the door. “And yes, they were in the dining car five seats behind you.”

  I jerked my arm away from him, unsure if I should be terrified or annoyed. How had I not sensed them? “You knew the entire time we were there?”

  “Yes.” He shoved me inside our room, and then closed the door securely behind us. “Here.” He lifted the hem of his shirt. For a moment I was stunned by his muscled abs, wondering what, exactly he wanted me to do. Then I noticed the small gun tucked into the waistband of his pants. He pulled the weapon out and handed it to me. “Won’t kill them, but will stun them.”

  I sank onto the bed, staring at the pistol, so small it fit into the palm of my hand. I didn’t know how the heck to use a gun, and wasn’t sure I wanted to know. With my luck, I’d end up shooting myself. “What’s out there? How many?”

  He lifted his briefcase, settling it on the bed and flipping open the locks. “Vampires. Two.”

  I laughed. “You’re not…you can’t be…” My laughter faded. “Oh God, you’re serious.”

  In his briefcase was an arsenal. I’d been expecting boring papers, not pistols, bottles of liquid, knives, stakes. Stakes? Good God, the man was insane.

  “Very serious.” He pulled two stakes from the briefcase, all business. “We need to get rid of the threats before the humans notice, and before anyone gets hurt.”

  “Owen, this can’t…” I felt the stirrings of panic threatening my sanity. “This can’t be real.” I pressed my fingers to my throbbing head. I never panicked
. Not when being chased by irate husbands, not when our father had died, not even when my mother had left and I’d had to figure out how the heck to support Lizzie.

  He rested his hand on my lower back. “Shhh. Get in bed, under the covers.”

  I jerked away from his touch. “I’m not that kind of girl.”

  He sighed. “Just get in bed!”

  “Fine, but just to let you know, next time I expect dinner first.” Cradling the pistol to my chest, I slipped underneath the linens and lay upon my side on the small bed. “So,” I whispered over the rumble of wheels over the train tracks. “What exactly are we doing? Getting in a quick nap before battle?”

  “Be quiet,” Owen whispered, reaching out and flipping the light switch.

  The room went dark, only the occasional flash of lights from the towns we passed lit the space. My breathing sounded harsh to my ears, but Owen didn’t make a sound. Not a word as he slid into the bed, fully clothed, under the covers next to me. His warm body was pressed companionably to mine. A little too intimately. Every muscle of his chest brushed my back, his hard thighs pressed to my legs. Heat shot to my face and I found it suddenly hard to breathe.

  Instead of comforting, the close proximity of his body only unnerved me. What the heck was he doing? How was I supposed to relax, or think, or breathe, molded to him? For at least five minutes we lay there, until the entire back side of my body felt like it was on fire. Then there was the slightest sound. So slight, I thought at first that I had imagined the noise. Then it sounded again. A rattle. The door handle. I stilled, holding my breath.

  “No,” Owen whispered. “Breathe normally. In, out, slowly.”

  I took in a deep breath, and released it. Breathe normally? Yeah, right!

  “Close your eyes. Vampires can see in the dark.”

  This just kept getting better and better. I squeezed my eyes shut.

  “Roll toward me.”

  I did as he told me, putting us chest to chest. So close, his warm breath brushed across my forehead. Horrified heat swept up to my cheeks. And I’d thought our kissing had made things awkward. He threw his arm around my waist, pulling me even closer, if that were possible. His heart beat against mine. He wasn’t nervous, he was completely calm, completely professional. I hoped to God that meant he had a plan.

  Over the roar of the train over the tracks, I swore I heard the slight squeak of the door being opened. Owen’s arm around my waist tightened. I hadn’t imagined it then. I sucked in a breath, my heart hammering in my chest.

  “Calm your heartbeat.”

  I would have laughed at his ridiculous request, if I hadn’t known he was being serious. “Why? Can they hear it?”

  He didn’t respond.

  Oh God. A dull patch of light spread across the wall, the hallway light. I waited, hearing…nothing. No floorboards creaking. No footsteps. No breathing or whispered words. There was no sound at all, yet I knew without a doubt that someone or something was in our room. The minutes ticked by and still Owen didn’t move. Just when I thought perhaps I had imagined the door opening, Owen jumped from the bed, his dark form practically flying through the air.

  I bolted upright, pointing the pistol at the two figures lurking in our small room. But I couldn’t see well enough to shoot anyone. How they had made it inside without a sound, I hadn’t the slightest. Owen slammed his fist into one man’s face, sending him into the built-in wardrobe. The other man rushed forward, a blur of movement. He hit Owen with a thud that sent them both crashing into the wall.

  “Oh God,” I muttered, leaping from the bed. What to do? I wasn’t used to standing by like some blonde bimbo. I scurried to the side of the room and flipped on the switch. The room burst to light. The two vampires screeched, flinching. They were dressed alike in long, dark coats, and black trousers. While one was blond and the other had dark hair, both were pale as paper. But it was their eyes…black, fathomless eyes that sent a shiver down my spine.

  Owen used their momentary distraction to his benefit and tackled the closest one. They fell to the floor with a thud that shook the small room. But the other vampire—the one with blonde hair—met my gaze. A slow smile lifted the corners of his lips. I raised the gun, ignoring the tremble of my arm, and pointed it at his chest.

  “Bring it on,” I whispered.

  I blinked and he was on me before I had time to pull the trigger. Cold hands gripped my upper arms, crushing the skin and bone in a painful grasp. Crying out, I dropped the pistol. It all happened so fast I barely had time to think. A muscled arm wrapped around my waist and jerked me back against an equally hard chest. He was like a steel statue come to life, unbreakable, unbendable.

  “Easy,” the vampire growled in my ear. “And we won’t hurt you, I swear it.”

  I gripped his forearm and pushed, trying to lessen the tightness but the beast was too strong. Sparks of light danced along my peripheral vision. I couldn’t breathe. Hell, I was going to pass out. Desperately I sought Owen, who was wrestling with the other vampire. As if sensing my panic, he looked my way. His glasses were gone, his hair mussed, and blood trailed down the corner of his mouth. Unable to do more than gasp, I pleaded for help with my eyes.

  Owen lifted his arm and a fireball appeared in the air, hovering over his palm and highlighting the room in an eerie orange glow. “Let her go.”

  “And why would we do that?” The vampire Owen had been fighting moved slowly around the bed to stand closer to me and his friend. They were grinning as if they’d already won; perhaps they had. Yet, there was nervousness in their gazes too, as they glanced at the flames. Did they fear fire? It would have been nice if Owen had given me a manual on supernatural beings.

  “You know why we want her.” The vampire leaned closer to me and breathed in deeply. “And she smells so delicious. Can you imagine what Matchmaker blood would taste like? No one has ever had it before, you know.”

  Wait, I thought they wouldn’t kill me? I stopped struggling long enough to glare at Owen.

  He ignored me. “You don’t feed on Matchmakers, so why do you really want her?”

  “Maybe our diet has changed.”

  “Harm her and I will kill you,” Owen said quite calmly, so calmly that I actually believed him. So calmly that in that moment I knew, if he wanted to, he could easily destroy both of these beings. And in that moment, I realized how I’d once again misjudged him. He might not like me, but he would give his life to protect me. It was his job, and he took his job seriously.

  The vampire’s grip tightened, my ribs bending, painfully close to breaking. I bit my lower lip to keep from crying out. I wouldn’t give the bastards the satisfaction.

  “What are you doing?” the other vampire hissed. “We don’t want to harm her!”

  “You’re talented and you’ve been trained, no doubt,” the vampire holding me said to Owen, ignoring his friend. “But you’re lacking, my boy.”

  His friend moved to the windows. “We’ll be kind. We’ll let you go, as long as you let us have the girl.”

  Kind? He said the word as if he actually meant it. Why the hell did they want me, if not to suck my blood dry?

  He slammed his elbow into the window. The glass shattered, remnants sucked into the dark night. Wind rushed inside, a roar of protest that whipped at my hair and clothing. Hell, they were going to leap out that window, and they were going to take me with them. I needed to pull it together and form a plan fast. They might survive a jump from a speeding train, but I was pretty sure I wouldn’t.

  “What say you, Protector? Is she worth your life?”

  Owen lifted his hand and tossed the fire straight at the vampire by the window. The ball hit him directly in the chest. The vampire burst into flames like he’d been doused in kerosene. The vampire holding me stumbled back, taking me with him as his friend screamed, the sound feral, raising the fine hairs on the back of my neck. But the man bursting into flames wasn’t the worst of it. Suddenly his skin melted away and burning pieces of flesh fell
to the floor, revealing white bone.

  “Hell.” The vampire holding me let go, his terror almost tangible.

  If I hadn’t been freaked out by the gory scene, I might have been grateful. The bone crumbled into dust and the fire went out with a sizzle. Just like that, the vampire was dead, gone, only a pile of ash remained.

  Owen raced toward us. “Emma, move!”

  He latched on to my arm and practically tossed me aside. The wooden stake hit the man in the chest as I hit the wall. The vampire cried out, crumpling to the floor, his body convulsing, trembling. Stunned, I slid down the wall, falling to my butt. The staked vamp burst into a pile of ash. We were alone. The only sound was the shrill wind bursting in through the open window, fluttering the curtains and blankets.

  “Get your things,” Owen demanded.

  He grabbed his briefcase from the floor and shoved the stake inside. I still sat there, too stunned to move. Stunned by the fact that there were actual vampires in the world. Stunned by the fact that Owen was powerful enough to kill them. Stunned by the fact that this was now my life. My life!

  The train slowed, the whistle going off.

  But mostly I was stunned by the fact that Owen hadn’t left me. He’d stayed and fought. Fought for me. I found his gaze and suddenly he wasn’t just some annoying hot guy, he was a Protector, a man fated to serve the Matchmaker…fated to protect me. Everyone in my life had left me. But Owen wouldn’t…not ever.

  He sighed and shoved my carry-on into my hands. “Come on, Emma. Time to go.”

  “My luggage,” I muttered weakly, unsure if my legs would hold me. The room was empty. No sign of the vampires. Only two small piles of gray dust stirred by the wind coming in through the broken window. No one would believe me if I told them what had just happened. There was no proof. I released a manic laugh as I stumbled to my feet.