Make Me A Match (The Matchmaker) Read online

  “Leave it. We have to go now.”

  The train came to a screeching halt as it approached the next station. He latched on to my hand and jerked me out the door. Silently, I followed him down the empty corridor, my carry-on thumping against my leg. My head swam, my body was numb. As if sensing my confusion, Owen took my carry-on. Cold, I wrapped my arms around my waist. He smiled politely to the assistant who was waiting to help passengers disembark. It felt like forever before the train stopped fully and we were finally able to step onto the platform.

  I glanced back. No sign of the otherworldly creatures. Forget snakes on a plane; I had vampires on a train to deal with. I was cold, shivering, although the night breeze had a pleasant warmth. The platform was almost empty, only a few people waiting, the surrounding countryside black. It felt like we were the only two people in the world, but I knew there were more out there. Things I couldn’t see, beings I didn’t even know existed.

  “Why’d they want me?” I asked.

  Owen led me into the warmth of the station. “I don’t know.”

  The station security guard nodded in greeting, but we were already at the front door, headed outside. We moved down the shallow steps to the sidewalk of a town that lay at the bottom of the hill. It was small if the lack of lighting was any indication.

  I heard the shrill whistle of the train preparing to depart. I’d never been so eager to be stuck in a town with no transportation. “What’s the truth?” I asked as we started down the sidewalk. “There’s something you aren’t telling me.”

  He paused in the middle of the street, the stars overhead twinkling on a velvet sky. For a long moment he merely stared at me. “I don’t think your aunt died naturally. I think someone murdered her.”

  The ramifications of his words sank heavily into my gut. “Oh.”

  “I don’t know what’s going on. But it’s obvious you have a bounty on your head, Emma. And I’m the only one standing between you and death.”

  Chapter 11

  Owen

  We’d barely spoken since leaving Chicago, and after the major screwup on my part on the train, I had little to discuss. What could I say? That I couldn’t stand to be near her because she made me forget my good intentions? My job? My life? That, because I was so focused on kissing her, I hadn’t sensed the vampires until it was almost too late? Because of my negligence, I could have gotten her killed.

  I hadn’t even tried a halfhearted conversation as we trudged down the dark road. Although I knew we were closing the distance, albeit slowly, between us and the Consulate, I felt as if I were standing still. Or maybe I didn’t want to return, a voice inside my mind nagged. I frowned, annoyed. What choice did I have? We were unprotected out here. The demons had wanted her energy, no surprise there. The only surprise was that they had sensed her so quickly. But the vamps hadn’t wanted to kill her, they’d wanted her. For what?

  “So,” she said. “I take it that was not exactly our stop?”

  We’d been walking for two hours and still had a good five before the sun would rise. I could teletransport to the castle, but to do that I’d have to leave her alone. At this point, I didn’t feel comfortable doing that for even ten minutes, at least not out here in the open. Besides, I wasn’t quite sure who I could trust anymore and if I suddenly appeared, demanding help, there would be a lot of questions. I needed time. Time to give Seb a chance to uncover anything he could. The Underworld shouldn’t have known about her powers yet. Protectors were the first to know, then the Underworld demons. Unless a demon had told the vamps. But since when were demons and bloodsuckers friends? And since when did they collect Matchmakers?

  “Okay, seriously, I’m freezing and exhausted. There has to be somewhere we can stay.”

  I paused and shrugged off my jacket without even thinking twice. I was pushing her too hard, too fast, but it was for her own safety. Of course if I told her that, she’d just claim that she didn’t need my protection.

  She sidestepped my offer. “No. I want to rest. I want something to eat, drink. I want answers, not your jacket.”

  But I couldn’t give her answers because I didn’t bloody know. Of course, I wasn’t going to tell her that. “There’s a house over there.” I nodded toward the dark field. “I think it’s abandoned.”

  At least I hoped. I started through the field knowing she followed, for I could sense her. Always sensed her whether I wanted to or not. It had never bothered me with her aunt. But with Emma…hell, it was like she was a bloody parasite slowly killing me from the inside.

  Above, the sky was dark and clouded. There were no stars to guide me, or tell me the future. Not even the glow from a crescent moon. The house before us began to take shape, a shadowed mansion a couple of hundred years old. It was lived in, but empty. Perhaps a vacation home. I could sense the lack of occupants, the lack of energy.

  We climbed up the wide, shallow steps. I could practically hear the echoes of voices from long ago, their energy still here. Not ghosts, but almost impressions like in clay. No weeds grew, and there was no buildup of mail, which meant someone checked on the place from time to time. I bent my arm and used my elbow to break the pane next to the door. The sound of shattering glass sent a flock of sparrows screeching from the field.

  “Great, breaking and entering,” Emma muttered.

  “Got a better idea?” I reached through the gaping hole and found the lock. No magic here, but within a few seconds I had the door open. I stepped back, and bowed mockingly. “After you.”

  I followed her into a large foyer that smelled of dust and age. Definitely empty. Someone might have been keeping up the outside, but no one had been inside in months.

  “No lights,” I said as she closed the door. “If there are neighbors nearby, we don’t want them suspicious.”

  She moved slowly across the foyer and into the large sitting room with the massive marble fireplace. “Impressive. But would be more so if there was electricity and heating.”

  She always had to be a smartarse. “Better than outside.”

  I felt guilty the moment I snapped back. Even in the dark I could see the stoop of her shoulders, had noticed the dark circles under her eyes. She was on her last leg. She was still human, and could die and tire like the rest of them.

  The fact was I was making small talk, discussing stupid things so I wouldn’t think about the fact that we were alone. Completely alone. Did she realize? I sure as hell did. There was no one here to interrupt us. No grandmothers, no sisters, no demons, no vampires.

  “Don’t suppose we can have a fire either,” she muttered.

  “No, but I’m sure there are blankets.” Perfect excuse to leave.

  I headed up the steps toward the bedrooms, mostly because I needed to get away from her and center my thoughts. I can do this, I told myself as I moved down the hall. I could be her Protector. As soon as I got used to the fact that she was young and attractive, I’d be fine. It was a job. A job I’d been raised to do. I found a large bedroom with a massive four-poster bed, and headed toward the trunk against the far wall.

  “Find anything?” Emma appeared in the doorway.

  No. Damn it, no. I didn’t want her in the bedroom, didn’t want her anywhere near me. “Yes, actually.” I snatched the blankets from the trunk, shoved them into her hands, and left the room as fast as I could, forcing thoughts of Emma far, far from my mind.

  Hell, I was a freaking pervert. I was her Protector, for God’s sake.

  “Gee,” she snapped behind me. “Thanks.”

  Better she think I was a rude jerk than to know the truth. I moved downstairs to the large windows overlooking the massive lawn. But all the while I was completely aware of Emma.

  “Should we check the kitchen?” she asked as she tossed the blankets on the couch.

  I nodded. When the owners returned and found the blankets and broken window, they’d know it was merely squatters in the area and most likely wouldn’t bother to report us. As long as we didn’t steal an
ything other than food.

  We moved into the foyer and headed toward the back of the house, assuming the kitchen would be there. We were right. We found a rustic kitchen that hadn’t been remodeled, but it would do. There was no stove and the refrigerator had been turned off. Emma went to the pantry.

  “Cookies, and…that’s about it.” She pulled out a box and tossed them to me. “So,” she started as she moved to the sink. “Are you cold? Or do you people not get cold? What are you, anyway? Are you even human?”

  I sighed as I set the biscuits down and pulled two glasses from a cupboard. “Yes, we get cold.” Actually, I wasn’t bloody sure what I was. But I was sure I was human, just…with a little extra ability. “I’m as human as you are, I suppose.”

  “Oh God, what does that mean? I am human, right?”

  Her outrage almost made me laugh.

  “Of course you are.” I filled two glasses of water from the faucet and handed her one.

  “That’s a relief.”

  Cradling the biscuits in one hand and the glass of water in the other, she moved back into the hall. Truth was, even though the woman drove me insane, I liked her, and I liked to be with her.

  “I know it’s a shock.”

  “Was it a shock to you?” she asked as we moved into the living room.

  Bloody great, she was asking more personal questions. I should have known it would happen. She settled at the end of the couch and pulled the blanket over her. She looked like she was settling in for a good night’s story.

  I shrugged, feeling more than uneasy. “I suppose.”

  I sat at the other end of the sofa. We were facing each other, but in the dark she couldn’t see me and fortunately couldn’t read my expression. I knew she wanted more, but I didn’t know what to say. Her aunt and I had been comfortably silent around each other. She did her thing, and I was merely there in the background to protect.

  “You’re from England.”

  “Yes.”

  “But you live in France?”

  “I live wherever my Matchmaker lives. Your aunt happened to be here.”

  She grinned, her teeth flashing white in the dark. “So if I move to, say, the Bahamas, you have to move there too?”

  “Yes.”

  “Fine,” she sighed. “I can manage to stay here a few months a year. Whatever.”

  I didn’t bother to respond. Why make her upset?

  She released a wry laugh. “Have you always been this serious?”

  Had I? “I guess.” One had to be serious when you were homeless half the time, eating at soup kitchens and begging for money on street corners. I drank my water, ignoring the taste of rust and earth. I’d had worse.

  Frowning, she opened the box of biscuits. I loved the way her brows drew together, that little furrow above the bridge of her nose when she was perplexed about something. “My aunt…I don’t even know her, and now never will.”

  “She was a very strong-willed woman who knew what she wanted. She didn’t think she needed anyone, really. Much like you.”

  Seeming almost embarrassed by my comment, as if I shouldn’t notice personal things about her, she lowered her lashes. But I noticed. I noticed everything. I noticed how stubborn she was and how it might be detrimental to her safety. I noticed how tough she acted, but that her left side was weak. If a demon attacked, he’d go after her there. I also noticed that freckle, a tiny spot at the base of her neck. I noticed that her lashes were so very dark, yet tipped with gold. I noticed that when she walked, she almost had a bounce to her step. And I noticed that she constantly noticed everything.

  Taking in a deep breath, I forced myself to look away.

  “So, you’ve been doing this your entire life?”

  “No, actually. I was in foster care until I was ten. After that, they found me and brought me here to train.”

  I sensed her compassion and hated it. It’s why I never shared my background. Fortunately, she had good instincts and avoided focus on my childhood. “Found you?”

  “Yes. They sensed my power. Sort of like I could sense you. They look for weird things in the news, odd stories about strange children that lead them to a certain country, city. Then they use their powers to find the child. And when the tattoos appeared, they knew for sure.”

  She glanced at my arms. “So they just appeared out of thin air?”

  “Pretty much.”

  “At least you got to avoid the pain. So, you were a weird kid?” She laughed. “Why am I not surprised?”

  “As an orphan with no money and glasses, I’d been an easy target, and I’d learned to either fight back, or ignore them. Yeah, I guess I was weird.”

  Her smile fell. “Well, that just took the fun out of teasing you.”

  I didn’t want her to feel sorry for me. I sure as hell didn’t want her to think of me as some pathetic punching bag. “It’s in the past. It’s over.”

  She nodded slowly. “What happened when they found you?”

  “It was like a dream come true.”

  She sipped her water, then grimaced.

  “You need to drink it. It’s clean, just not filtered.”

  She nodded and sipped again. “Pretty crappy childhood, huh?”

  I shrugged. “They found me, took me in, showed me how to use my powers. They fed me. Taught me how to protect myself. I lived in a bloody castle. Most would think it was a pretty awesome childhood.”

  “Yeah, I could see how that would be better than foster care.” She looked at her lap, playing with the edge of the blanket, and shivered. “For me it was the opposite.”

  Was she really going to share? Surprised and a little leery of what she would divulge, I waited quietly. I had to admit, I was more than curious.

  “Up until around ten, my life was great. Then Dad died, and not so much.”

  We lapsed into silence. I knew better than to question her further. Besides, what the hell would I say? So sorry about your dad’s death, have some more shitty water. I wasn’t good with small talk, or emotions. Not that she was showing much emotion.

  “They said he killed himself, but I don’t know.”

  I took another drink of water. My interest flared. Could Clarice’s death be connected to Emma’s father’s? Doubtful, but it was something to look into. “You don’t think he did?”

  “No. I know he didn’t.” She lifted her gaze, as if judging my reaction, daring me to disagree.

  “Why?”

  “He was happy, there was no indication…” She shook her head. “Dad was carefree. Loved life.” The shimmer of emotion sparkled in her eyes.

  I shifted, uneasy. If she cried, I’d have to comfort her and if I touched her, I wouldn’t be able to stop.

  “He loved it a bit too much.” She released a harsh laugh. “He left my mom for his freaking secretary. So cliché.” She shook her head. “They decided to take a little trip overseas for their new relationship. She said he felt guilty. She thinks it’s true.”

  She was silent for a moment.

  “You don’t believe her?”

  “No.”

  I didn’t know Emma well but she was stubborn, and that could make a person blind. It could have just been her emotions getting in the way. But, I realized with some bemusement, I also trusted her instincts. In fact, more than she did.

  “And your mother?”

  She sighed. “She relied on my dad a lot. It destroyed her when he left. When he died…” She shook her head. “She went off the deep end. Was out partying like she was sixteen.”

  In other words, when Emma should have been the one partying, her mother was. “And she ended up in Florida?”

  Flushing, she glanced at me, almost embarrassed. “Yeah. Followed some guy.”

  “But you stayed.”

  She shrugged. “It was home.”

  And she had to take care of her family, and the business. She was more emotional than she let on. It was yet another thing that drew me to her. Every time I thought I had her figured out, she
surprised me.

  “Lizzie and I stayed with Mom’s dad, our grandfather. He had a PI business, but it didn’t make much. When he died, I decided to go after cheating men to keep the business afloat.”

  Her dad cheated, and she made her living catching cheating men? Yeah, I wasn’t going to point out that irony. “And so you and Lizzie stayed?”

  “We really had nowhere else to go.” She stared into her cup. “It’s been just me and her for such a long time.”

  I could hear the loneliness in her voice. I knew it well. Bloody hell, I didn’t want to be drawn to her, but I was. I wanted to tell her that she wasn’t alone anymore, that I would always be there for her. I couldn’t. “You should sleep.”

  “I’m too cold,” she muttered, drawing the blanket closer. “I thought it was spring?”

  “A bit different than spring where you’re from.” But she didn’t look appeased. She needed rest more than anything. I sighed, knowing what I had to do. “Come here.”

  She glanced at me warily. I grew annoyed. What did she think…I was going to attack her? I reached under the blanket, wrapped my hand around her ankle, and tugged. She slid down the couch.

  “Hey!”

  “Just trust me.” I latched on to her arm before she could jump back to her side of the couch, and pulled her close. She fell into me, her warm body pressed closely to mine. Hell, maybe this was a mistake. So, why did I wrap my arms around her waist and hold her close? “Stop struggling.”

  She paused and glared at me.

  “Just stay still for a minute, okay?”

  She frowned, but didn’t move. Thank God. Soon enough, I felt my body grow heated…unnaturally so.

  “Oh, wow.” She snuggled closer to me. “You’re so warm.”

  “I can control my temperature to an extent.”

  She laughed, delighted. “Amazing.”

  I gritted my teeth, trying to resist the attraction that surged through my body. Her soft hair tickled my face; her scent killed me. Taking in a deep breath, I stared at the ceiling, counting the water stains. We were silent for a moment. It should have been weird, lying there pressed together. Instead…bloody hell, it felt right. Too right. I closed my eyes. For the first time in days, my body relaxed. There was just something right about having her curled into me. I should have known it wouldn’t last.