Make Me A Match (The Matchmaker)

  Anger overtook my shock. I shoved my hands against his chest, sending him back a step. “Who the hell are you? Why are you here?”

  “I’m here for you, Emma.”

  It was all too much. I narrowed my eyes, instantly suspicious. The last person who had supposedly been there for me was my grandmother. What a crock that had been. She hadn’t been there for me. No, she’d wanted Lizzie and me in some last-ditch effort to have the daughter she’d always craved. There was no doubt in my mind this man had an agenda. But what?

  “Really?” I laughed. “In what way are you here for me? Please, do tell.”

  “I’m a Protector, of sorts.” He rubbed the back of his neck, as if unsure how to proceed. “It’s my job.”

  In other words, he was here because he had to be. Although some girls might have been offended, I found his response comforting. Emotions I didn’t trust, but duty I understood. Slowly, my gaze dropped to those polished dress shoes, then up his perfectly pressed trousers to the vest and dress shirt, to his clean-shaven face and spotless glasses. He was my Protector? Demons were real and he had killed one? I laughed. In hindsight, I supposed that wasn’t exactly the kindest reaction.

  His face grew taut. “Glad you find it amusing.”

  “Come on, Owen, how are you going to protect me?”

  He was silent for one long moment, his jaw clenched so hard a vein throbbed in the side of his face. I’d gone too far. Men and their whiny egos. I shouldn’t have laughed. Heck, I was always putting my foot in my mouth. I started for the doors, eager to escape the scent of death, eager to escape the thing in the coffin, but mostly eager to escape Owen’s hard gaze.

  Owen stepped in front of me, blocking my exit. I paused in indecision. Taunting and fighting didn’t work. Perhaps I’d try something new and be polite to the man. “Listen, I didn’t mean to offend…”

  I casually reached for the door. He slapped his hand on the metal panel, keeping it closed. “My name is Owen Emerson, and I am your Protector. It is my job to protect you. You are a Matchmaker. You match soul mates.”

  “Owen,” I said, trying to keep my voice calm. Why couldn’t he just give up? Didn’t he understand I didn’t want him here? I didn’t want any of this! “Listen to reason.”

  Completely ignoring me, he rolled those white sleeves up his arms, showing muscled forearms covered in tattoos of some sort of Celtic design. Muscles and tattoos? The guy had gone from attractive to intriguing. Not that I hadn’t seen tattoos in my line of work. But tattoos on this straitlaced guy were shocking…in a good way.

  He lifted his arm and looked at the doors. “Aperire.”

  The doors to the vault flew open, banging against the outside walls. Sunlight burst into the small building, a blinding reality. My mouth dropped open. A flock of blackbirds burst from the ground and took flight, squawking their protests. Somehow he had just opened the doors without touching them.

  Slowly, I slid him a glance.

  “You’re not the only one with powers, Emma.”

  Feeling light-headed and overwhelmed, I moved past him and into the fresh air. Was it my supposed powers making me dizzy? Perhaps the smell of the rotting demon? But no, I knew the truth. Owen was the one who made my heart race, my pulse pound, my head spin.

  “And I am here for you,” he said, following me outside. “I was born to protect you.”

  Born to protect me? Was he being romantic, dramatic, or just honest? I frowned, unsure how to feel, how to react. When was the last time anyone had cared about protecting me? I’d always been the one to protect others. About freaking time, my mind whispered.

  “I don’t need you,” I snapped, hating my moment of weakness. I had to remind myself that I was no girly-girl; I didn’t need anyone. The moment you relied on someone was the moment they betrayed you.

  “Whether you want me or not, I’m not going anywhere, Emma.”

  I almost laughed. Oh, I wanted him, all right. And that was the problem. I spun around and started down the steps. “I don’t need you to protect me. Don’t you understand that?”

  He was following; I could sense him. My body responded as if we truly were connected on some level I didn’t understand. I didn’t want him to follow me, and I sure as heck didn’t want to be connected in any way.

  But even as I tried to flee, I couldn’t escape the many questions rushing through my mind. In the middle of the cemetery, I spun around, facing him. “Even if what you say is possible, even if I have the power to match soul mates, why would I need protection from that?”

  He shoved his arms through the sleeves of his jacket. “Because some people seem to think you’re important. Try to push me away all you want, Ms. Watts, but I’m not going anywhere.”

  Chapter 6

  Owen

  I didn’t sleep. But then, I didn’t really need to. Yeah, I could rest, shut down my mind and body if I wanted, almost like a deep meditation. But tonight…tonight I couldn’t even close my eyes, and all because one Emma Watts immediately came to mind.

  I hadn’t planned to show her the demon, and I sure as bloody hell hadn’t meant to show her my powers this soon into the game. But I couldn’t seem to think rationally when she was close. She made me act in a way that sent my normal intentions spiraling out of control.

  And I never lost control.

  But then I’d never had a client like her, and I doubted the Consulate had either. Emma’s aunt Clarice had been accepting. Like most of us, she’d known what to do with her powers, understood her part in this life. She’d respected our world, not mocked it as Emma did.

  Even I had accepted my fate with open arms, but considering my childhood, why wouldn’t I? I’d spent the last decade training with one goal and one goal only in mind…protect the Matchmaker. Protect her from everything that lurked in the dark, and make sure she lived as long as possible. But I was pretty sure I had failed Clarice. I would not fail Emma.

  I paced the living room, agitated, restless. I could sense Lizzie sleeping in her room. But Emma…I knew without looking that she was awake. This was the first time I had ever questioned my job. I hated that this chit could make me wonder about everything I’d been taught, everything I believed. Make me wonder about my very future as a Protector. How could I protect her if she didn’t even want this life?

  With a growl of frustration, I paused near the windows. Emma’s apartment was quiet, still. To know such stillness, it left me with only time to think. I hungered for the peace of sleep. True sleep in which my mind would shut down for hours, without worry, without care. A glowing moon shone bright in the sky, making Main Street a silver blade below. Not good. A full moon had too much pull, too much magic. It made beings mad, both human and supernatural. Hell, maybe it was making me crazy.

  I rested my hands on the cool glass. I was the only thing standing between the Matchmaker and darkness. A darkness I could feel encroaching, slowly but steadily. But what good was I when I couldn’t even bloody concentrate? What good was I when I had failed Clarice? Hell, I knew Emma would take the truth hard, who wouldn’t? A slow introduction had been my plan. I hadn’t wanted to overwhelm her. But apparently we didn’t have time to wait.

  The door to her bedroom squeaked open. I spun around, my heart hammering unnaturally loud. I blamed it on nerves, but I knew the truth…anticipation. Emma paused in the doorway, wearing a pink tank top and shorts so short, they should have been illegal. Shite, I couldn’t do this…couldn’t be this close to her. Couldn’t think of her as anything but a client.

  She gave me a wry half smile. “I couldn’t sleep.”

  Join the club. I nodded, unable to speak, for my throat seemed suddenly dry. Her hair was tousled in blonde waves that hung around her shoulders and down her back. Her makeup was long gone, but it didn’t detract from her beauty. She wasn’t supermodel gorgeous, but there was something about her…something…

  My chest tightened in a way I didn’t really understand. “Your powers are bothering you?”

&nb
sp; Her smile fell and I regretted my words immediately. “No, I just can’t sleep.”

  Apparently, when dealing with Emma one must not mention powers, true love, or anything supernatural. In other words, the entire reason I was here. Right, we’d get along just fine.

  She swept by me, heading toward her small kitchen. I used the moment to take in a deep breath, attempting to regain control of my emotions. Whether she wanted to or not, she bloody well needed to get used to her abilities, and me. I wasn’t going anywhere; neither were her powers.

  The aura around her was growing…spreading. Even humans would notice soon and be unable to control their inexplicable need to be near her. While the supernatural world…well, hell, they’d sense her from countries away. And when they did, they’d come running. But if everything went as planned, she’d be tucked safely away by then.

  I leaned against the window, crossing my arms over my chest, and watched her as she pulled open the refrigerator door. The light shone on her bare arms and face, highlighting her body, giving her a heavenly glow.

  Yeah, she’s an angel, all right, I thought sarcastically.

  She was doing her best to ignore me, to pretend she wasn’t nervous. But I knew. I always knew. “It’s only going to get worse, Emma, until you learn to control your powers.”

  She scoffed, releasing a wry laugh. “Powers?”

  Annoyed, I pushed away from the windows and started toward her. “You’ve had a vision and it won’t leave you alone until you match them. Once a couple has latched on to you, they won’t let go.”

  “So, you can move things, huh?”

  She was doing a bad job of changing the subject. “Yes. But not much. It takes a lot of energy.” I was silent for a long moment, letting her relax. “We need to discuss your powers.”

  She slid me a wary glance. “You’re serious?”

  Had I mentioned she was stubborn? “Why can’t you sleep? You were dreaming, weren’t you? Of the couple you saw.”

  She slammed the door shut and turned to glare at me. “Tony is so not Paula’s type.”

  “Come here.” I didn’t wait, but spun around and made my way to the living room, hoping she followed.

  “Why?”

  I resisted the urge to sigh as I settled on the sofa. “Just trust me.”

  She laughed again, annoying me even further.

  “Emma, you’ve let me sleep in your apartment, obviously you trust me a little.” As if she’d had a choice in the matter. I would have stayed whether she wanted me or not. She didn’t quite seem to realize that I was in charge, but she would soon enough.

  Hesitantly, she strolled toward me. Hell, she might as well have been going to the dentist for all the excitement she showed. She might not trust me fully, might not believe me completely, but she was curious. She wanted answers, to uncover the truth. I’d use that to my advantage.

  She settled on the sofa, so close it was distracting. I held out my hands, all business. “Take hold.”

  As if she’d rather hold hands with that rotting demon than touch me, she stared at my palms. This wasn’t going well at all. The woman could crush a man’s ego.

  Finally she rested her hands on mine. For a moment, all I could focus on was the touch of her skin, heat to heat. I inched my thumb left and could feel the beat of her heart in her wrist. So human, so fragile.

  Swallowing hard, I forced my mind to calm. Flashes of light burst behind my eyes. Thoughts of the present faded as colors, memories, feelings of the past swarmed through my very being. A girl…nine or ten…blonde hair, large blue eyes. Emma. She stood at the door of a small house as a man walked down the road, a suitcase in hand. Fear, sorrow welled within me, the feelings so strong I sucked in a sharp breath.

  “When’s Daddy coming back?” a red-haired girl asked, slipping her small hand into Emma’s.

  “He’s not,” Emma whispered.

  More moments, more emotions, more memories flashed through my mind, leaving me bemused and stunned. Suddenly, I was outside in a cemetery, a preacher nearby, the vibrant green grass interrupted by gray and white tombstones. A young Emma and Lizzie were dressed in black, their faces pale with misery as tears streamed down their cheeks.

  “Ashes to ashes…” a preacher said.

  “Emma,” Lizzie whispered. “I’m scared.”

  “Don’t be, I’ll always take care of you.”

  Their father’s funeral, I realized.

  But as I started toward them, the memory disappeared and I was bursting through her past once more. Shite, I didn’t know what the hell was going on; I’d expected to see her matches, not her life. I needed to regain control and fast. Mentally I reached out, clinging to what little power I retained. The memories came to a blinding halt and I was standing next to Lizzie and Emma as young teenagers living in this very loft.

  “Will Mom be better, Emma? Will she stop crying?”

  Emma slipped her arm around her sister. “Yeah, sure she will, when she finds a new boyfriend.” She took her sister’s hand. “Come on, I’ll make dinner.”

  She started toward the kitchen, Lizzie following.

  “But how will we afford the rent?”

  Emma turned to face her sister, determination in her blue eyes. “Don’t worry about it. I told you before, I’ll take care of us.”

  More light, more flashes, more memories, like cards being shuffled in a deck. Pictures of a past life. The world stopped; for a second there was darkness.

  Then suddenly, I was there, lying atop her under that lilac only two days ago. And I felt the heat rush through her body at my contact, mixing with my own desire and surging through my form in a lust so powerful I could barely contain myself. I realized in that moment that I wasn’t just feeling my own attraction…but hers.

  Cold reality burst through. I slammed back into my body. It was like hitting a frozen pond full force. I sucked in a great gulp of air and opened my eyes. Emma was sitting next to me, her gaze wary. Trying to regain control of my breathing, I looked around. No vision. This was real life. My fingers curled around hers, reveling in the warmth. Real. She was real.

  “Are you all right?” she asked.

  I jerked my hands away from her and stood. “Fine.” I stumbled back, needing distance. I wasn’t right. Not at all. My body trembled like a weakling. I felt off-balance, not myself. Damn it all, I hated feeling out of control. What the hell had she done to me?

  “What is it?” Emma asked, standing.

  I swiped my damp hands on my trousers. “It wasn’t supposed to happen like that.”

  Emma narrowed her eyes. “What? What happened?”

  But I couldn’t answer, all I could do was stare at her in shock and confusion. I wasn’t supposed to see her life. Shite, I wasn’t supposed to experience her feelings, her thoughts. I was only supposed to see her matches. What the hell had just happened? She’d invaded me, the little witch. I rubbed the back of my neck. My body felt warm, wrong, as if I were inside someone else’s skin. Or too close to Emma. Much too close.

  “Owen?”

  “Nothing,” I said a little too sharply. “Nothing’s wrong.” I turned and raked trembling fingers through my hair. It wasn’t supposed to be like this. I was supposed to remain detached, aloof. A Protector, interfering only when needed. A mere bodyguard.

  “Either start talking, or leave,” she finally demanded.

  I gritted my teeth and looked up at the ceiling, as if to find answers in the dusty beams above. I had to give her something. “You…you need to call her.”

  “Who?”

  I turned to face Emma. “Paula, the woman in the building. You need to call her, you need to make sure they meet. It’s the only way, Emma, to get them out of your head. The fates are demanding you match them.”

  She clenched her jaw, that stubbornness back full force. The truth had upset her, but at least she had forgotten my bizarre behavior. I glanced at the clock. It was only eleven; the woman might still be awake.

  “Emma, give
it up. The man’s not for you.”

  She swallowed hard and looked away. “Then who is?”

  Her question startled me more than the images I’d seen only moments ago. That catch in her voice made me uneasy. Did she truly care? A woman who made her living breaking up couples actually wanted a man in her life? “I can’t answer that.”

  She looked at me, her gaze hard and unrelenting once more. “Can’t, or won’t?”

  Both, I wanted to say. But I couldn’t tell her the truth now, not when she was so vulnerable. She already had too much to deal with. If she knew the truth, she’d bolt. “Can’t,” I said. “Because I don’t know.” And I didn’t know, not really. It wasn’t a lie, so why did I feel so damn guilty? I picked up her phone and held it out. “Call her.”

  For one long moment she merely looked at the mobile and I thought she might refuse. Surprising me, she snatched the phone from my hand. Another battle in my favor, but I knew better than to gloat.

  “Fine.” While she waited, that phone pressed to her ear, she met my gaze, her eyes full of animosity. I didn’t look away.

  “Hey, it’s Emma from apartment 1B,” she said into the phone. “We haven’t chatted in a while. Thought maybe you’d want to meet for lunch tomorrow?” She nodded, pausing a moment. “Great. Meet me tomorrow around noon at the coffee shop on the corner, you know it?” She swallowed hard, and I knew this was difficult for her, but frankly I didn’t give a shite. The sooner she got over this Tony guy, the better.

  “Yeah, okay. Twelve. Great.” She hung up and handed me the phone. “There. Are you happy?”

  I took the phone and set it on the counter. Happy? Not exactly. How could I be happy knowing what was to come? It was going to be hard, bloody hard. “Yeah,” I lied.

  “Is it done now?” she asked, crossing her arms over her chest. “Will you leave me alone?”

  Done? Was she joking? I released a harsh laugh. “Hell, Emma, it’s only just begun.”

  ********

  The sun had yet to rise when I slipped from Emma’s building and strolled down Main Street. At four in the morning barely a soul could be seen, only the bakery was active, the scent of warm bread and doughnuts making my stomach grumble. There would be time for breakfast later. Although there was no one about, I stuck to the shadows in hopes that I could make it to the cemetery and back before anyone noticed my odd behavior. Fifteen minutes…I’d only be gone fifteen minutes at the most. Surely Emma would be fine until my return. I needed to talk to Jotham, and the cemetery would be the most inconspicuous place. A place where the aura of our powers would be muffled.