Make Me A Match (The Matchmaker)

  “Hi!” Lizzie said, doing her best to hide her confusion. She was wondering why the heck Paula and I were meeting. “How’s Mr. Whiskers?”

  She settled her oversized leather bag on the empty chair next to ours. “Great, he’s great.”

  We lapsed into uncomfortable silence, both Lizzie and Paula looking at me, waiting for my next move. I couldn’t very well ditch them now. “Maybe…maybe we should go to the café instead. It’s pretty busy here—”

  “What are you talking about?” Lizzie looked pointedly around the shop. “There’s hardly anyone.”

  I gritted my teeth, glaring at her. Did she not get a hint?

  “Should we sit?” Paula asked hesitantly.

  “Yeah.” I forced my lips up into a smile. Why not…why not see what happened when she and Tony met? They wouldn’t connect. I knew it. She liked cats. She stayed at home and studied. He was a freaking stereotypical Latin lover, always social. I settled at the table, almost eager now. I couldn’t wait to rub it in Owen’s face when they didn’t connect.

  When Tony headed our way, his typical smile in place, I stiffened, barely breathing. It was only a few moments, but it felt like forever. The entire world slowed. Paula no longer mattered. The people around me disappeared, the conversation became muted. My gaze focused on him…only him. I felt like I was in some bad music video for a cheesy romance song, and still I couldn’t help myself.

  “So, did you need something?” Paula asked, her voice coming out muffled over the crazy thump of my heart.

  Tony’s gaze shifted from me to Lizzie, then finally landed on Paula. His friendly smile fell. I could see, somehow, when his pupils widened. The pulse in his neck jumped to life. Even noticed how his nostrils flared ever so slightly. He stumbled, paused as if struck dumb.

  As if sensing his attention, Paula turned ever so slowly, glancing over her shoulder. I wanted to throw myself in front of her to block her view. I’d been wrong, so very wrong. My regret was immediate. When their gazes met, I swore it was as if the world ended. As if a great, huge comet hit the earth. The ground trembled, the coffee shop disappeared, and for a brief moment I saw only red. A heated, passionate warmth swept through me, making my heart ache, my body tingle. Someone’s hand touched my arm and just as quickly as it had happened, the world of red disappeared. Startled, I blinked the room back into view.

  “Are you okay?” Lizzie whispered, her voice warbled, her face wavering in and out of focus before me.

  “Hey.” Tony was at our table, but his gaze was pinned to Paula. Suddenly the world came sharply into focus. “I’m Tony.”

  It was like Lizzie and I didn’t even exist. Not once did Tony or Paula look at us. Her hand slid into his and I felt a tremor go through me, almost as if I felt their very connection. “Ugh,” I muttered, resting my head in my hands. Bad enough that I had to watch them fall in love, but I had to feel it too?

  “Paula.”

  I peered between splayed fingers as they clasped hands for a ridiculously long time, their gazes held. It was like a freaking scene from one of Lizzie’s romance novels, and Lizzie and I were the lame secondary characters. The inconsequential extras.

  I had to escape and fast before I did something embarrassing, like vomit. They were talking, but I couldn’t understand a word over the roar of blood in my ears. Paula stood, and as she stood, the red glow around them pulsed, beating together, forming one red blob. They were completely connected. I was surprised I didn’t see cartoon hearts floating around their heads.

  “Well, crap.” Lizzie sighed. “He’s obviously taken.”

  I jerked my gaze toward her. “Did you feel that? See that?”

  “What?” Lizzie asked, frowning. “Emma, what the heck’s going on?”

  I ignored her and focused on Tony and Paula. They were cuddled in the corner near the bakery items. Already they looked like a couple. But it wasn’t the way he brushed a lock of hair from her shoulder, but the glow around them that caught my attention. A red, pulsing glow that surrounded them in a bubble of heated passion I could feel even from where I sat. It made me sick. I shoved away from the table and raced toward the door, ignoring Lizzie’s call to wait. Owen had been right. Hell, I was a freaking Matchmaker.

  When I pushed open the door and stepped outside, the lake breeze brushed across my fevered skin, offering some comfort. I took in a great gulp of air, attempting to ignore the ringing in my ears, the frantic beat of my heart. My mouth felt dry, my skin too tight…as if my body weren’t my own.

  “Are you all right?”

  I despised and craved that voice all at once.

  Slowly, I turned, glaring up at Owen Emerson. “I’m fine.”

  Lizzie rushed from the coffee shop, stumbling to a halt beside us. “Oh, Emma, I’m so sorry.” She wrapped her arm around my shoulders. “I know you liked him.”

  A heated flush rushed to my cheeks. Yeah, did I mention Lizzie had no clue? Owen’s gaze traveled from me to the shop windows, where we could see Tony and Paula seated at a small table, heads bent close together. His gaze returned to me. I told you so was written plainly across his gorgeous face.

  “Don’t say it,” I hissed, shoving past him and heading toward the loft, leaving Lizzie confused and Owen, no doubt, gloating behind me.

  ********

  There was one thing I was sure of…Owen Emerson despised me. The way he glared at me, the way he tried to avoid contact, the way he gloated when he was right. Yep, the man despised me.

  I dumped my slushy into the trash can outside our apartment building. You could say I was avoiding Owen, Lizzie, and life in general. I’d been wandering around town for hours, but you had to eventually face your life…right? I pulled open the door and trudged up the steps to our apartment. But it was totally fine if Owen didn’t like me because I didn’t exactly like him either. I shoved open the door and stomped inside.

  Thank God, Lizzie and Owen were still out. I shrugged off my sweatshirt and tossed it to the couch, tugging down the hem of my tank top when it rode up. I didn’t understand any of this. Not the matches, not the feelings, and certainly not Owen. Was this really what my life would be from now on?

  I kicked off my Converse and moved into my bedroom, slamming the door behind me. Tony was gone. No way did I have a chance with him now. I flung myself upon my four-poster bed and pulled my stuffed cat, Fluffy, close. Thunder rumbled low and menacingly, vibrating my windows so the glass rattled. I’d always liked storms; they fed on my frustration, helped me release my anger. And today, more than ever, the weather matched my mood.

  “Rest, Emma,” I whispered, closing my eyes. “Breathe in, breathe out.”

  Lizzie would have had me meditating or some such nonsense. But I’d never slept well; I had too much to worry about. Now I had even more issues. True love was real. Great. Wonderful. But so was death and destruction. My life had become a horror novel.

  A floorboard creaked.

  My eyes popped open. The building settling? A shiver of unease whispered over my skin. I lay still, frozen upon my bed. There were times on a stakeout when instinct kicked in and I knew in my gut I was in danger. Instinct was kicking my butt at the moment.

  Someone was watching me.

  Even as my heart thumped painfully hard, I knew I needed to stay calm, pretend I didn’t know he was in my room, whoever he was. Frantically, my mind spun. A weapon, I needed a weapon. I inched my hand across the mattress toward my bedside table, hoping to find my stun gun, the only real weapon I owned.

  “You’re not what I was expecting.” A man’s voice rumbled menacingly through the room.

  I froze, swallowing my startled cry. A surprise attack would have been his best option. Obviously he was arrogant, or an idiot. Either way, I could use it to my benefit. Slowly, I settled my palms into the mattress and sat up.

  The approaching storm had thrown the room into darkness. I searched the dim shadows until I found the culprit sitting in my only chair in the far corner. Could I make it to the
door before he caught me?

  “What were you expecting?” I asked, keeping my voice steady.

  “Someone more mature. They’ve been old crones for centuries, you know.” He chuckled then, his voice so raspy it practically raked over my skin. “But you are absolutely delightful, and your energy…I’ve never felt anything like it.”

  Oh God, this was about matchmaking. He stood, unfolding his tall form so that he loomed at the end of the room. He was utterly huge. No man…a demon. I resisted the urge to panic. Demons were nothing more than glorified animals, and I knew enough to know that if you ran, a predator would give chase.

  He took a step forward, the floorboard creaking. “It’s too bad I’m going to have to kill you. I need your energy, you see.”

  I didn’t need to hear any more. I jumped from the bed and surged toward the door. Before I reached it, he lifted his arm and a brilliant burst of light lit the room. I blinked, stumbling back into the wall. Fireballs didn’t appear out of thin air, and they sure as heck didn’t float around my room like some balloon from a maniac clown.

  I tore my attention from the fire to focus on the beast beyond the light. Holy hell. Humans didn’t have short horns coming from their massive gray heads. They didn’t have faces that looked like they’d been scraped with farm rakes, and eyes that glowed eerily red. Yep, definitely a demon.

  He smiled, a snarl that pulled at his thin lips, revealing sharp yellow teeth. “Yes, my dear. Yes.”

  My fighting instinct kicked in. I dove for my side table. My trembling hands found the handle of the drawer and I pulled it open. Owen had said the easiest way to kill a demon was by stabbing it in the heart, but where was his heart located? I didn’t suppose this demon would offer up the information.

  “Do you think to fight? How adorable.” He didn’t come after me as I grabbed the stun gun and turned to face him. There was no fear upon his putrid face. “I would absolutely love to see what you can do, little one.”

  Yeah, that made two of us. “Owen,” I whispered. “Where the hell are you?”

  “Do you think to call your Protector? Unfortunately, we’re the only two in your dwelling.” He took a step closer, his large feet shuffling across the floorboards. “No one to hear you scream.”

  The door burst open, pieces of wood twirling through the air like overly large toothpicks. I stumbled back, my shoulder blades hitting the exposed brick wall. Owen stood on the threshold, looking every bit the archangel. The relief I felt was overwhelming.

  Seeing him looking so calm, so sure, those broad shoulders stretching the seams of his dress shirt, left me with no doubt that he could protect me. If I needed protecting. “I’m fine,” I reassured him.

  He spared me a brief glance, and I could tell he was trying very hard not to laugh at my bold statement. “You’re serious?”

  “Very.” I held up the stun gun. “Have everything in hand.”

  “What is that?” Owen asked. He relaxed his stance, and rolled the sleeves of his white shirt as if we had all the time in the world. “A tape recorder?”

  “A stun gun!”

  “And you propose to do what with it?”

  “Stun…the demon.” I glanced at the monster, his huge, hulking form filling the room, and realized how ridiculous that statement sounded. Yep, I totally had everything in hand.

  “Are you two finished, because I’m on a deadline here,” the demon growled.

  I smirked. “What? You got a hot date?”

  “Perhaps. With your dead body.”

  I shivered despite myself. “Well, that’s one I’ve never heard before.”

  Owen lifted his arm. “Ignis!” The ball of fire flew toward the monster, hitting him square in the chest. The being stumbled back and fell into the wall with a thud that vibrated the apartment. Plaster from the ceiling above sprinkled to the floor, a fine white powder of snow.

  Our neighbor pounded on the wall next door. “People are trying to sleep!”

  “Sorry!” I called out.

  “As if having to listen to you morons wasn’t bad enough, now you’ve made me really angry.” The demon surged forward, ten-inch claws extended from huge paws. He was an Edward Scissorhands nightmare.

  “Holy hell,” I whispered.

  “Glacies,” Owen called out.

  The beast froze in midstep, ice crackling and growing, forming a crystalline cocoon around his body. Only a few feet from us, I could see every detail of his mangled face imprisoned in ice. Unwillingly, I stepped closer.

  “Amazing,” I whispered.

  “Emma.” Owen grabbed my arm and jerked me back. “Go!”

  I pulled away from him. “Go where, exactly? The police station? Yeah, that’d be just great. We could be on the nightly news.”

  A low rumble vibrated the room. Fine cracks spread across the clear surface of the ice, popping and crackling. “Crap,” I whispered.

  “It’s not holding,” Owen said, pushing me behind him.

  The ice burst, crashing to the floor and shattering into tiny pieces that flew across the room, but I felt none of them. Owen took the brunt of the impact. The demon didn’t pause and before Owen could counteract with another spell, he’d shoved him to the side. Owen hit the footboard of my bed, the wood cracking and the spindles pattering to the floor. The demon was on him, a blur of tangled bodies. There was no way Owen could beat this thing.

  I latched on to a loose spindle. “Take that, you son of a…” I swung forward, whacking the demon across the back of its massive head. His skull was so hard, my entire body vibrated at the impact. It was like hitting a monster truck with a toothpick.

  “Now you’re just pissing me off,” he growled, spinning around to face me.

  I stumbled to regain my balance, dropping the spindle. Too late. He swung his claws at me, slicing through my tank top and cutting my side. The pain was immediate, consuming. Like the world’s largest paper cut, heated fire swept down my body. I cried out, my legs buckling. My knees hit the floor, the entire room spun. Vaguely, I was aware of Owen tackling the demon.

  I was more interested in the warm blood seeping from my wound, trailing down my side in a thick river of red that soaked my tank top and jeans. I’d been cut. The realization was rather stunning. How deeply, I wasn’t sure. Deep, if the sudden lack of feeling was any indication.

  Owen grabbed the dagger strapped to his ankle and surged forward. It was almost like a ballet, watching him move, ducking to miss the demon’s claws, spinning around and coming up behind the fumbling beast. If I had been doubtful before this moment, I was no longer. Owen was amazing.

  In one final movement, he spun around and thrust his dagger into the beast’s left side. With a roar, the thing threw his arms wide, hitting the wall and knocking loose a mounted shelf. A vase and picture frame clattered to the floor.

  I pressed my hand to my side, the tank top wet and warm from my blood. My breath was harsh with panic and pain, but I didn’t say a word. I had to make sure the thing was truly dead.

  Moments later, the creature slowly began to melt. The skin fell off first, chucks of meat that thumped to the ground into a steaming puddle of waste, eating at the wooden boards. It was like watching Mount Everest fall.

  “Guess my deposit’s shot.”

  Owen’s gaze went immediately to my wound. “Shite, Emma.”

  It was the first time I’d seen true emotion upon his face. Did he really care, or was he merely worried about his job? I released a wry laugh. Most definitely worried about his job. He knelt beside me and slid an arm around my back and another under my legs, lifting me easily.

  My side throbbed with the movement, but I refused to cry out. “Owen, what the hell was that?”

  He carried me into the kitchen, not even breaking a sweat, and settled me on the counter top. “Another demon. Different kind. Don’t worry, it will with disintegrate, leaving nothing behind but a stain.”

  Funny enough I didn’t care about the rotting carcass in my bedroom. I gritted my
teeth as more blood poured down my side. Yeah, you could say I was starting to panic. I’d need stitches and I hated hospitals. “A demon, right. Of course.” Lord, the entire room seemed to be spinning, a dizzying whirl that had my stomach doing somersaults. The side of my tank top was soaked through, clinging to my skin. Was it too much blood? Unable to stop myself, I looked down.

  Red. It was completely and utterly red. “That can’t be good.”

  “Don’t faint on me,” he warned, going to his briefcase.

  “I never faint,” I snapped back, annoyed with the man for even suggesting the idea. At least, I’d never fainted before he’d arrived in town. But now, with the room spinning, the idea of closing my eyes held a certain appeal.

  He was back, standing so close my knees rested against his hard abdomen. Whether I wanted to admit it or not, his heat and strength brought an odd comfort that made me feel better. That was, until he opened his bag and pulled out a long needle and thread. My stomach clenched. Why did I have a bad feeling about this?

  I leaned back as much as I could, but I was caught between the counter and Owen. “What are you doing?”

  “Mending you.”

  I released a wry laugh. “You’re a doctor too?” He didn’t respond, merely knotted the thread as if he’d stitched up wounds before. “You realize there are hospitals for things like this? Hospitals with trained staff.”

  His gaze met mine, his green eyes so bold I didn’t dare look away. “Trust me.”

  “Your glasses. They’re gone.” It wasn’t exactly what I’d meant to say, but I was so shocked by their absence the words had blurted from my lips. Heck, maybe the lack of blood was making me insane.

  He grabbed the hem of my tank top and pulled it high. I hadn’t expected him to totally disrobe me, but I suddenly found the shirt gone, my white sports bra and jeans the only thing guarding me from prying eyes. Not that he pried. No, he kept his gaze firmly on the needle he was preparing. That didn’t stop the heated blush from rushing to my cheeks. I had to remind myself that I wore less at the beach.

  “I don’t need glasses.”