“We will see.”
Owen shook his head. “This isn’t for the good of the world. No, it’s for the good of you. The gods made Matchmakers for humans only. They were not produced for us.”
“You’re going to be difficult?” When Owen didn’t respond, Falconer sighed. I wanted to intervene, to smooth all the ruffled feathers before something happened to Owen, but I was clueless as to how.
“I hate to do this, Owen, but I must.” Falconer glared down his long nose. “You can no longer protect her, you are not powerful enough. She needs the Consulate.”
I stiffened. Wait, what did he mean?
Owen’s gaze hardened.
“You are no longer in charge of the Matchmaker.”
My heart sank, the denial frozen upon my lips. No, they couldn’t do this, could they?
“Her name is Emma, and you can’t take away our bond,” Owen stated, sounding so sure that I dared to hope. “Only the gods can.”
Falconer stepped closer and lowered his voice. “You’d be surprised by what I can do.”
Owen’s gaze narrowed, his body tight with fury. I wanted to reach out to him, to tell him to just go along with it, that everything would be fine. For now, we had to pretend. I couldn’t. I could just stand there, stupidly, my hand tight around Owen’s.
“Is that a threat?” Owen said softly, too softly.
“A warning. Do not stand in the way of the Consulate.” He turned, the robe flaring wide, and in a blink the man was gone, reappearing on the platform below. As he left, I realized one very important thing…
Now that everyone in the Otherworld knew who I was and what I could do, there was no way Owen and I could escape.
Hell, I was truly and completely trapped.
Chapter 17
Owen
“You can’t just take another person’s Matchmaker,” Petunia whispered, scooting her chair closer to mine. She’d moved a little too close, I realized, as her thigh brushed my knee.
The urge to lift her, chair and all, and move her to the next table overwhelmed me. I appreciated her loyalty, especially given the fact that I’d dumped her over a year ago. But sometimes I wondered if it wasn’t loyalty that motivated her as much as the hope that we’d end up back together. That wasn’t going to happen.
Not now. Not ever.
“Apparently you can if you’re Falconer.”
“But…why would he?”
I glanced around the library just to make sure, but no one was visible. We were completely alone. Everyone else was out celebrating the discovery of Emma. Still, I didn’t trust the walls, and frankly, even though I’d known her for years, I wasn’t sure I trusted Pet either. Someone had told the demons about Emma’s power, and someone had set her up in town last week.
“Some shite about her being the most powerful Matchmaker they’ve seen in years. He doesn’t think I can protect her.”
The words were difficult to say because in some ways I wondered if they were true. Had Clarice been killed because of this mess? Maybe Emma’s aunt had been more powerful than I’d realized, which would explain Emma’s ability. But who had killed her…an Underworld being, or had an Otherworldly being betrayed her? Honestly, it could have been either. And now Emma was out there alone.
I rested my head in my palms, exhausted.
Pet’s hand on my back made me stiffen in unease, instead of offering the comfort she’d intended. “It will work out for the good, you’ll see.”
I straightened, pulling a book forward, trying to shrug off her touch. There were more important things to worry about. I hadn’t asked for her help, and frankly, I wished she’d leave. But she wasn’t getting the hint. I wasn’t sure if she ever would. I was a bloody idiot for thinking we could be friends.
Pet was silent for a moment, which was odd for her. “Is it true?” she asked. “Is she more powerful than most?”
“Maybe.” But that wasn’t correct. I knew the truth. If she weren’t powerful, those damn demons wouldn’t have sensed her so quickly. If she weren’t powerful, Falconer wouldn’t have been so quick to take over her training. “Yeah. She is.”
She didn’t respond, merely remained mute as she pulled a book forward and started to slowly flip through the pages. I knew Pet well enough to know she was pouting for some reason, but I didn’t give a shite. I was angry. Hell, more than angry, and not Petunia, not even Jotham could calm me. There had been only a few instances in the past when a Matchmaker had been taken away…when those Protectors hadn’t done their job. Hell, they’d been drunks, even a drug addict or two.
When they’d taken Emma from me, they were proclaiming to all that I wasn’t worthy enough. I shoved my book aside, so angry that I pushed it a little too hard and it flew across the table, landing with a thud to the floor. “Hell.”
Pet slid me a glance that told me all I needed to know…she thought I was going mad.
Maybe I was. I hadn’t seen Emma all day and my skin itched, my body uneasy with her so far away. I knew she was ensconced in Falconer’s chambers, making matches. Jotham kept me well informed.
Perhaps I should have sent word to Emma explaining why I hadn’t been in touch. If she knew I was attempting to uncover some loophole that would put her back into my incapable hands, she might be more forgiving. I could tell her that Seb was researching, and even Jotham was helping. But what if it didn’t work out? What if she hated me all over again because I’d failed? And so I said nothing…letting her think I’d abandoned her because I wouldn’t be able to stand seeing the disappointment in her eyes. Hell, maybe she was better off with the Consulate.
I sensed Seb a brief moment before he appeared, the air a few tables away shimmering right before he took shape. The look upon his face told me everything I needed to know. He had something.
“If you’ll excuse me.” I didn’t wait for Petunia’s response, but moved quickly across the open space, past the empty tables and far enough away that hopefully she wouldn’t hear. “What did you find?”
“I’ve checked with the guards, and no one other than Matchmakers and Protectors were allowed access the night Clarice died.” He slid his hands into his jeans pockets. He was uneasy, which made me uneasy as well. “So, if she was murdered, it was by a Protector or a Matchmaker.”
“Protector.”
“How do you know?”
I raked my hands through my hair. I’d known, hadn’t I? All this time my gut was crying out the truth, but I hadn’t wanted to admit it. “The night it happened, I felt off. I went to check on her, and outside her chambers, in the hall, I could sense the energy of a Protector. I thought nothing of it, as Protectors walked that hall constantly. I should’ve known better.”
“We all thought she had died of natural causes, Owen. How could you have known that she might have been murdered?”
Instinct, damn it all. Why didn’t I trust mine? “I should’ve known.”
“A Protector.” Seb sighed and I knew what he was thinking: If Protectors were involved, this could shake up the entire system. “Will you tell the Consulate?”
I crossed my arms over my chest. “No. How can I when I don’t know who to trust?”
He nodded, and I knew he understood. There was a part of Seb, although he wouldn’t admit it out loud, that blamed the Consulate for his girlfriend’s death. “What will you do?”
“Get Emma and get the hell out of here.”
He quirked a brow, amusement flashing in his dark eyes. “And you think you can, with this many people about?”
I glanced around the room, but could sense no one other than Petunia. Still, I kept my voice low. “It’s the best time, isn’t it? With this many people around, it’s easy to come and go.”
Seb stepped closer, lowering his voice. Any amusement was gone from his gaze. “You understand what you’re doing? You’re going to basically steal Consulate property.”
My anger flared. “She’s not a bloody object. She’s a human being.”
“I know
that, don’t get your knickers in a knot.” He slid a glance toward Petunia. She’d been sitting there watching us the entire time. He obviously didn’t trust her. Neither did I. “But they don’t. If you take her, they will consider it stealing. Not only will the Consulate be in an uproar, but the entire Otherworld will be searching for her. You, my friend, will be public enemy number one.”
“They won’t find her.”
He smiled a half smile. “The elusive cottage.”
“Only you and Jotham know the location, and I trust you to keep the secret.”
He lifted his hands in surrender. “I have this long, and I will take it to my death.”
“If only Clarice had stayed at that cottage, she would have been safe. But she had insisted on coming to the monthly meeting, she’d had something important to say. I could sense her nervousness, her excitement.”
Slowly, things were starting to fall into place. I had no doubt that whatever she knew had gotten her killed.
“Even if she had, she couldn’t have stayed there forever.”
I knew what he was implying. Emma might be safe there for a while, but it would be no better than being in a glorified prison. “She’ll be protected there.” I crossed my arms over my chest. “I know I can’t keep her there forever, but for now it will do.”
“Will she be protected? Can you save her from the Consulate, the Otherworld, and the Underworld? One man?”
I wasn’t offended; it was a valid question. “I will, at least until I can find proof of Clarice’s murder.”
Seb nodded slowly. I wasn’t sure if he doubted me, and I didn’t care. I would do whatever it took to see that Emma remained safe, whether it meant giving up my own career and becoming the enemy to the very people who had saved my life over a decade ago. Eager to move on, I started to head back to the table.
“There’s one more thing.”
I paused, glancing back. “Yeah?”
Seb shifted, looking uncomfortable, so unlike him that I couldn’t help but frown. “I…worry about her sister. I’ve been checking on her from afar, as you asked. But if this blows up, if they think Emma is dead, will they go after the sister?”
Unease sent a shiver over my body. Hell, I hadn’t even thought about her family. If anything happened to Lizzie, Emma would never forgive me. Fortunately, I knew Seb had a plan. “What are your thoughts?”
Seb rubbed the dark scruff upon his chin. The guy looked like he was being forced to eat something rotten. “I want…to take her into seclusion.”
Shocked, I studied his features, looking for signs of suspicion. Why the hell would he care about Lizzie? Yeah, Seb was my friend, my best mate, actually. But since when did he have empathy for anyone but himself? “Why?”
He flushed, actually flushed. “She’s so damn innocent. She trusts everyone—”
“In other words, the complete opposite of Emma.”
Seb grinned and I couldn’t help but smile back. In that moment, I finally understood. Bloody hell, Seb actually liked Lizzie. “All right,” I said a bit warily. “I’ll trust you to protect her.”
He released a wry laugh. “Trust me? As if I’d do anything to harm her? Please, the woman is a damn menace. If anything, you should be worried about me.”
I released a wry laugh. “Right.”
“No, truly, I’m honored you trust me with the chit,” he said dryly. “Believe me, I’d rather be at the bleedin’ dentist than with her.”
Yeah, he was definitely protesting too much. I was still grinning when Seb disappeared and I started back to the table, still stunned when I settled in the chair next to Pet’s. Seb actually had feelings for someone. He’d been so destroyed when his Matchmaker had died that I hadn’t thought he’d ever recover. I only hoped he didn’t hurt Lizzie, because then I’d have to hurt him for Emma’s sake.
“You were talking about Emma?” Pet asked as I pulled a book forward. It was less a question and more of an accusation.
“Yes.” What was she getting at? There was meaning behind her question. There was always meaning in everything she said or did. Whatever it was, I didn’t have time to appease her.
“What’s she like?”
I resisted the urge to tell her to leave me the hell alone. Shite, I didn’t want to deal with this. Not now. I knew why she was fishing for answers, and I didn’t have time for her jealousy. Seb had been right when he’d told me months ago that Pet hadn’t gotten over me.
She rested her hand on my forearm. “Owen?”
I shrugged, not daring to make eye contact. No, that’s what she was looking for…some sort of affirmation that we had a connection. “She’s…normal.”
Like no one I’ve ever met. Strong. Stubborn. Beautiful.
She pulled her hand away and focused on a book. I could tell by the stiffness of her shoulders that my response hadn’t been natural enough. Pet knew Emma and I had a connection. Hell, she should know; she had fallen for her Matchmaker. “She’s young.”
“Yeah.”
“Like…our age.”
“Yeah.” What was she getting at? Whatever it was, I knew it couldn’t be good. I tossed my book aside and grabbed another. I was just about to hint that maybe she should head to her chambers so I could work when she got to the point.
“You like her.”
It wasn’t a question. “Yeah,” I said, admitting the truth. “I do.”
Frantic, she scooted back, knocking a book off the table in the process. It hit the floor with a thud. “I’m sorry, I should have…” Her voice caught as she trailed off.
Guilt and annoyance combined. Still, I could admit I felt bloody bad about dumping her, even a year later. But we’d only dated a bleeding six months. What’d she want? A proposal?
“No, you’re fine.” We both leaned down at the same time, reaching for the book. Our fingers brushed. I paused and she froze, sucking in a sharp breath. I felt nothing, but then our relationship had fizzled out pretty quickly. She was pretty, and yeah, I’d noticed. But I knew I couldn’t be tied down. I thought she’d felt the same way. But as she shivered next to me, I realized that she hadn’t felt nothing after all.
“Why?” she whispered, her breath warm on my face.
I lifted my gaze, meeting her tear-filled eyes. “You know why, we don’t have time for relationships.”
Her lower lip quivered. “You would with her.”
“Pet, you know I can’t—”
Before I could get the excuse out, she leaned forward and pressed her lips to mine.
********
Emma
“Concentrate, Emma,” Falconer said, the sternness of his tone not going unnoticed.
I didn’t want to freaking concentrate. It felt like I was working at a factory. Get everyone matched as quickly as possible, one after the other. They might as well have been sitting on a conveyer belt. I shifted, the heat of the fireplace where I stood overwhelming.
But it didn’t work that way, as I soon found out. Yeah, the first few matches had gone through without a hitch. I felt like I was doing something positive, the energy rushing through me in a sweet wave of pure bliss. But when I hit my first stalemate, it had gone downhill from there. They didn’t understand why it wouldn’t work. Unfortunately, I did.
How was I supposed to tell the governor of the fairies that he apparently wasn’t evolved enough for a match? That the universe, the gods, whatever, didn’t think he was mature enough to have a soul mate quite yet? After I’d held his hands and drawn a big blank, he hadn’t taken it well. And that wasn’t the first fail. Nope, just the first in a long line.
“What do you mean, you don’t feel anything?” The softly spoken being in front of me tortured me with her large, innocent eyes. She wanted it badly; I had a feeling she wanted it too badly and that was why she wasn’t ready. Hadn’t Falconer said that the moment you didn’t think you needed a soul mate was the moment you found yours? She was desperate. Love and desperation didn’t go hand in hand.
I wasn??
?t even sure what the heck she was—pale as shimmering snow, white hair that was almost silver, pale blue eyes—she was as delicate-looking and fragile as a snowflake. And when her lower lip quivered as if she might burst into tears, I wanted to hightail it out of there. Yeah, emotions made me slightly uncomfortable, especially coming from this childlike woman.
Twenty beings I’d tried to match. Fifteen matched, five blanks. Duds.
She, apparently, would be number six.
And she wasn’t taking it well. God, I hated it when people cried. That steel heart of mine tended to rust. I glanced toward Jotham for help, but he merely sat in a chair by the fireplace, looking as unemotional and as unhelpful as always.
“Perhaps,” the tall, scary-looking man looming behind her snapped out. “You should try again.”
Ah, yes, the proud father. He was some important being in the Otherworld. I had a feeling I didn’t want him on my bad side. Too late. I gave them a tight smile. Exhausted, my head throbbed, my body ached, and frankly I was tired of trying to appease others. I glanced at Falconer, seated in one of two chairs near the hearth. Jotham was sitting in the other. Instead of saving me, Falconer merely gave the tiniest nod. I had to resist the urge to sigh. He wasn’t going to let me give up anytime soon.
Where the hell was Owen when I needed him?
I closed my eyes and took her pale, delicate hands in mine. She was so beautiful and elegant that I felt like an ogre next to her. Taking in a deep breath, I prayed to the gods that they’d show mercy and give me a freaking vision.
Nothing.
Yeah, the gods sucked.
I was about ready to release her hands and tell her I was done, better luck next time, when I felt the oddest stirring in my body…like a tingle of awareness.
Lie, a voice whispered through my mind.
Startled, I stiffened, but didn’t dare open my eyes. Had I imagined the word? Not Owen. Nope, this was…Oh my God, I think it was Falconer.
Do you understand? he added. Lie to her.
I swallowed hard, trying to keep my face devoid of emotion even though my heart hammered so hard that I was certain they’d see it pounding in my chest. “I think…” I hated lying. Okay, that wasn’t true. I’d made my living by lying. But this…for some reason seemed really, really wrong.