Make Me A Match (The Matchmaker) (10 page)

“Are you done?” I finally whispered, my breath stirring a
loose lock that had fallen across his temple.

He nodded, closing the bag.

“Good, now tell me what the heck just happened. What’d you
do to me?”

I should have felt something…shock, fear, anger, pain…mostly
pain.

“Merely cleaned and stitched the wound.” He lifted his gaze
and finally met mine. “Now, do you mind if I wash up?”

I didn’t notice until that moment that my blood covered his
hands and vest. He started to turn. My hand brushed his side as I reached out.
I meant to demand answers, but I didn’t miss the grimace that crossed his face
at my touch. Confused, I frowned. Something wasn’t right here.

“Wait a minute,” I demanded, jumping from the counter. He
didn’t have time to pull away before I jerked up his shirt. A nasty red line
ran the length of his right side, directly over his muscled stomach and in the
exact spot where I’d been injured. I stared at that injury mutely, unable to
understand.

Slowly, I lifted my gaze to him. “What did you do?”

“My job.” He reached around me and tossed his medical
supplies into the bag.

I latched on to his arm, in no mood for half answers. “What
did you do? Answer me!”

“It’s my job to protect you,” he said softly, still refusing
to meet my gaze. “My job to make sure you never suffer. The demon poison would
have killed you.”

“What does that mean?”

He slammed his hands down hard on the countertop, leaving
behind bloody prints, and startling me. “Damn it, Emma, can’t you just let it go?”

I glared at him. “No!”

“It was my fault for not being here.” He sighed and rubbed
the back of his neck, smearing my blood across his skin. “Therefore I took your
pain, and nothing comes without a price. At least not in our world.”

I shook my head, stunned. “No.” I stepped closer to him, so
close my body pressed intimately to his. My heart hammered madly, my skin
practically tingling with an odd need to touch this man. He blamed himself for
my injury; he’d taken my pain so I hadn’t felt anything, while he…he had
suffered. He wasn’t merely my Protector, he was more. So much more.

“You didn’t have to do that, did you?”

He lifted his head, our gazes clashing. In that moment, I
saw something…saw, perhaps, the truth. In some inexplicable way he cared about
me. He cared. I knew the truth, even if he wouldn’t admit it.

I didn’t know why I stood on tiptoes, couldn’t explain why I
leaned into him. I only knew that this guy, this virtual stranger, had done
more for me than anyone ever had in my entire life. For once, someone had taken
care of me. And so while my apartment shook with thunder, while my heart
hammered and my instincts told me to run, I kissed him. I leaned into his hard
body, cupped the sides of his face, and pressed my lips to his firm mouth.

I kissed him.

He didn’t respond at first, merely stood there with his arms
at his sides. A stoic soldier fighting a battle of wills. And for a brief
moment, I thought about pulling away. It was only supposed to be a quick kiss,
a thank-you kiss. But then he touched me. With soft, gentle hands, he cupped
the sides of my face and tilted my head back, deepening the kiss.

I sighed, resting my palms on his hard chest, reveling in
the warmth of his skin through the thin material of his shirt. The entire world
disappeared and I was caught in a warm cocoon that made me hum for more. Just
when it was getting good, Owen tore his mouth from mine.

At first we didn’t move, merely stood there staring at each
other in confusion and shock. Owen had just kissed me, or maybe I’d kissed him.
I couldn’t quite remember. All I knew was that it had been the most stunning
kiss I’d ever received. I felt as if he’d branded me somehow, as if things
would never be the same.

“No.” He lifted his hands, warding me off. “We can’t.”

“I didn’t—”

“We can’t.” He stepped back, his gaze intense. “I’m your
Protector, Emma. Do not make the mistake of thinking I helped you because I
feel some sort of affection.”

His words were like a slap to my face. My shock turned to
anger.
Way to ruin the mood
. I would
have been embarrassed if I hadn’t been so stunned.
Jerk
. How dare he.

“I’m merely doing my job.” He turned, heading toward the
bathroom. “Pack a suitcase. We’re going to France.”

“Owen, you can’t just…”

He disappeared into the small room, closing the door behind
him and putting an end to our discussion, at least for now. If he thought he
was going to control me, he’d realize soon enough that no one told me what to
do.

Owen

I’d kissed her.

Yeah, she’d started it, probably out of some sense of
gratitude. But I sure as hell had kissed her back. And I’d liked it. More than
liked it. And that made me nervous. It wasn’t supposed to be this way. I wasn’t
supposed to be attracted to her. I wasn’t supposed to be consumed by thoughts
of Emma. But she’d looked so damn vulnerable, injured and covered in blood. I
couldn’t help myself.

“Midnight,” Emma said, coming out of her bedroom and
dropping the phone on the counter where only earlier that afternoon she’d been
sitting while I stitched her side. My own body still ached from the pain, but I
knew I’d do it all over again. I couldn’t, wouldn’t see her suffer. The thought
made me ill…even furious, for some reason.

“The soonest we can get out of here is midnight.”

I glanced at the black cat clock hanging on the kitchen wall
and frowned. Five hours. Damn it all, we couldn’t wait that long. Dare I
contact the Consulate? I raked my hands through my hair and paced the living
room. No, I hadn’t heard from Jotham yet, and the truth was I didn’t bloody trust
them. Until I knew for sure who I could rely upon, I couldn’t contact them. Not
yet. Not until I heard if Jotham had uncovered anything.

She crossed her arms over her chest and leaned against the
counter, watching me warily. “So, why France?”

Her petite features belied a seasoned warrior. Hell, she’d
killed that demon in the cemetery without a second thought. Killed it as if
she’d been hunting Underworldly beasts her entire life. How could anyone so
lovely and innocent looking be so deadly?

“We’re based in France.”

The corners of her lips lifted into a smirk that was fast
becoming her signature look. “The country of love, of course. And who exactly
is
we
? Are you saying there’s more
than one of you? More than one of me?”

“Yes.”

She grew annoyed. I could see it in the flash of her eyes,
in the stiff stance of her body, and I could sense it in her aura. Why she was
angry, I wasn’t sure. But then, that wasn’t unusual where she was concerned.

“Well then, great!” She threw her arms wide. “If there are
other people with my ability, you don’t need me.”

I’d walked into that one. Exhausted for the first time since
gaining my powers, I collapsed onto the sofa. “You can’t just ignore what you
are. Besides, there aren’t that many of you.”

She frowned. “How many?”

I shrugged, glancing at the windows. I was growing to
appreciate her flat, or apartment, as she called it. The wide, sweeping windows
that overlooked the town, and the lake in the distance. The exposed walls and
history that pulsed in the very building. I could understand why she lived
here. I felt comfortable in this place, almost at home, and I’d never felt at
home anywhere.

“And you?” she said. “What about you? How’d you become a
Protector?” I heard the curiosity in her voice and smiled. She couldn’t quite help
herself; she was a natural detective. How the hell would she fit in with the
Consulate? My smile fell. They didn’t appreciate questions; I knew firsthand.

“Like you, I didn’t have a choice.”

“What do you mean?”

So many questions. This was getting way too personal, way
too fast. “The fates chose me. We need to pack. One suitcase. We can talk about
whatever you want on the plane.” I started toward her bedroom, intent on
helping, intent on changing the subject. Hell, Clarice hadn’t been interested
in anything personal.

“And you expect me to just move to France? Is that what you
did?”

“Yes.”

She sighed, frustrated with my answer. “Owen, I wasn’t
raised for this. I don’t know what I’m doing. Besides, I have to take care of
Lizzie.”

“I wasn’t raised for this either.” I glanced back at her.
She was surprised, but then so was I. Sharing my childhood wasn’t exactly what
I’d been planning. I didn’t talk about it often. Or ever. “I was a young lad
when they came for me, and frankly it was a relief. I wouldn’t give it up for
the world.”

“I’m not like you. I’m not ready for this, any of it.”

“All the more reason for you to go to France. You can’t be
alone here with abilities you don’t understand, completely unprotected. And
they won’t leave you alone, Emma, no matter how much you ignore them.”

She threw her arms wide. “I have a job! I have clients.”

“Yes.” I released a harsh laugh. “Ruining love for all. How
noble.”

Her face flushed, those brilliant eyes flashing. “I don’t
ruin love, love ruins my clients.”

Just like that, my anger fled. Bloody hell, she was more
screwed up than me. She really believed that the idea of true love was some
evil force out to destroy people. “You can’t possibly mean that.”

“Maybe I do.” She tilted her chin high, daring me to argue.
“If my mother hadn’t been so consumed by my father, she wouldn’t have sunk into
a depression after he died, forcing me take care of Lizzie and the bills.”

She tried so hard to be strong and independent, but I could
sense the vulnerability beneath that hard shell. I wanted to tell her that she
didn’t need to be alone, that I was here to help. It was my job; I wouldn’t
leave her. I wanted to tell her that someday she could know love. Real love.
But I couldn’t because it wasn’t true. At least not for her. “Emma…”

The doorknob rattled, and sadly I think we were both
somewhat relieved. She was a client, merely a client, I had to remind myself.
Yeah, I was here to protect her. But she had to work out her personal issues on
her own. I was no one’s psychologist.

I focused on the hall outside, listening to the footsteps.
“More than one person. Are you expecting someone?” I wasn’t worried, for they
were obviously human, and by the excited pitch of their voices female.

The door opened and Lizzie barreled inside. Whereas Emma
walked quietly, almost invisibly, Lizzie burst into a room, all dazzling color
and positive energy. “Emma! Movie club!”

I slid her a glance. “Movie club?”

“Crap.” She raked her hands through her hair. “My sister
brings her friends over once a week. She thinks I need to socialize more.”

A handful of teenage girls stumbled into the room, all
bright and smiling, all loud and all like Lizzie. God, no wonder why Emma hated
movie night. “Get rid of them.”

She frowned, crossing her arms over her chest. “Screw you.”

Make a note: Do not
demand anything of Emma.
And she had said reverse psychology went out years
ago. I gritted my teeth, resisting the urge to tell her what I really thought.
Spiteful witch.

Emma threw her arms wide and smiled. “Hello, Sis, come on
in.”

I bit back my growl. Hell, she was impossible. Had I
actually wanted to kiss her? The only thing I wanted to do now was shake some
bloody sense into her head. Not only would she be putting herself in danger,
but her sister’s friends as well. She obviously still didn’t understand the
seriousness of the situation.

“Emma, can we talk?” I asked as five girls filed into the
small apartment, their curious gazes immediately going to me. Wonderful, just
bleeding wonderful. I was supposed to be inconspicuous. So much for blending
in.

“Why?” She smiled, daring me to object. “We have plenty of
time until we leave. Why not socialize?”

Socialize.
Because
I hated socializing. And after becoming a Protector, I hadn’t needed to worry
about socializing. My life was spent in training, just as I preferred it. Guess
Emma and I had something in common.

“Hey, are we interrupting?” Lizzie watched me curiously.
“Have you decided to take Aunt Clarice’s gift?”

By the way her voice came out strained and tight, I knew
Emma had told her sister the truth. And suddenly this little party made sense.
Lizzie was freaked out, and assumed if we had a crowd, a demon was less likely
to visit. Or maybe she was more worried about me doing damage.

“What gift?” a short, curvy girl asked.

Emma held up her hands, palms out. “No, it’s not—”

“Emma!” A tall girl with brilliant red hair latched on to
Emma’s arm. “What’d you get?”

“Something good, I hope,” a blonde interrupted, setting a
bag of food on the countertop.

“Come on, tell us!” the curvy girl demanded.

“Well…” Emma glanced at me, reluctance in her gaze. I
crossed my arms over my chest and quirked a brow. Served her right. I wasn’t
about to come to her rescue. “A cottage in France.”

“No way!” Lizzie yelled, showing true surprise.

Well, at least she
didn’t mention the important thing,
I thought sarcastically.

“Dang it, you’ve got to share!”

“It’s uninhabitable,” I interrupted, lying.

They all turned to look at me as if I’d just taken away
their chances at a happily ever after. Seriously, this was getting out of hand.
I couldn’t have a group of teenage girls coming to visit her in France. We
needed to go into seclusion, at least for a while. Until I uncovered the truth.

“I’ll start the salad.” Emma sent me a glare as she brushed
past me, headed into the small kitchen. I read the message there…
Don’t do anything weird
.

“I’ll help.” Lizzie scurried after her sister. I knew
exactly what she was going to do, and when she lowered her voice to whisper
upon reaching Emma, she confirmed my suspicion. “What the heck’s going on?”

“Here.” One girl shoved a can of pop in my hands and I was
forced to look away from the two sisters. I gave the girl a tentative smile. My
fingers curled around the chilled aluminum can. They were staring at me coyly,
no doubt, wondering who the heck I was.

“Nothing’s going on,” Emma hissed.

“Don’t
nothing
me.
I’m your sister, I know you.”

I stood in the middle of the living room, listening, even
though I was too far away for a normal person to hear. But I was anything but
normal, thank God.

“Love your accent,” the curvy woman cooed.

I knew an invitation when I heard one. I gave her a stiff
smile, but was more interested in the conversation in the kitchen than
flirting. I’d never been good at flirting. If I wanted to ask someone out, I’d
ask, not play coy.

“You like him,” Lizzie whispered.

Emma choked and glanced back at me, as if worried I’d
overhear. She should be worried. Fortunately, she didn’t quite understand the
extent of my powers. “No, I don’t!”

I gritted my teeth. This was ridiculous. So, why wasn’t I
moving? Why did I continue to stand there and eavesdrop? I tipped my pop back
and drank, although I barely tasted the liquid.

“So, where are you from?” the tall girl asked.

“You do!” Lizzie said so loudly, the girls around me glanced
her way. Realizing her mistake, she stepped closer to Emma, lowering her voice.
“Your face is turning red. Your face always turns red when you’re embarrassed,
and why would you be embarrassed, huh, Emma?”

“Uh, London,” I replied, trying to keep the conversation
going while listening to Emma and Lizzie at the same time.

“Oh, shut up,” Emma muttered, taking lettuce out of the
refrigerator. “Okay, yes, he’s attractive.”

Was I? Truth be told, I’d never thought much about my looks.
But I supposed I’d never had problems getting dates. Although dates were few
and far between with my schedule. There’d only been one real girlfriend and
that hadn’t ended well, but at least we were still friends.

Lizzie hopped up, sitting on the counter and swinging her
legs gleefully back and forth. “You always did like the cute nerd types.”

I stiffened. Nerd?
That’s
what they thought of me?

Emma scoffed. “He’s way more than a nerd. Believe me. The
man’s built.”

That appeased my ego…kind of.

“London is so cool,” the curvy girl cooed.

I took another sip, smiling at the chatty girls around me
and feeling slightly better. Not like I was arrogant, but I knew I was in
shape. We trained every day. But realizing that Emma thought I was “built” made
me feel oddly proud…and worried. Worried because I shouldn’t have given a damn
what she thought.

“How would you know he’s built?” Lizzie asked.

“How long will you be in town?” the tall girl asked.

“Oh, shut up,” Emma muttered.

I forced myself to smile. “Leaving tonight, actually.”

“I’m being serious. I want to know you’ll be protected with
this guy.”

Valid question, one even I wasn’t sure I could answer.

“I’ll be fine, Lizzie. You know I’ve always taken care of
myself. But there is something I need from you.”

“That’s too bad,” the curvy girl pouted. “Stay longer and I
can show you around town.”

I resisted the urge to snort. I’m sure she’d show me
something, all right.

“What?” Lizzie asked her sister warily.

“I need you to stay with Grandmother just for the summer.”

She jumped from the counter, irate. “Are you kidding?”

“Oh, come on, you guys have always gotten along better than
she and I. She’ll take you shopping, show you off. What’s the big deal?”

She glared at her older sister. It was the closest I’d seen
Lizzie to pouting.

“Please.” Emma rested her hand on her sister’s arm. “I need
to know you’re safe.”

So, Emma could be caring and soft too. Just a girl worried
about her family. An odd warmth spread across my chest. I wanted to tell her
not to worry, that everything would be all right. But I couldn’t. I looked
away, disconcerted.

“What about you? How will you stay safe?” Lizzie asked.

“I have Owen,” she said.

But could I protect her? I frowned with unease. Especially
when I wasn’t sure who the enemy was?

“Yeah, that’s what I’m worried about,” Lizzie muttered.

Me too.

“Who brought the movie?” the taller girl asked, interrupting
my thoughts.

I couldn’t quite meet Emma’s gaze as she swept into the
living room, bringing her vanilla scent with her. Not now, not knowing what she
thought of me. Not now that I cared. Hell, I really shouldn’t have listened to
their conversation.