Make Me A Match (The Matchmaker) (6 page)

She frowned, averting her gaze once more. “Nothing.”

My fingers curled. Damn her, couldn’t she tell me the truth
even once? How would we work together if she couldn’t trust me? “Nothing? You
said you’d be honest.”

Her gaze flashed as she glared up at me. “Fine, I saw Tony,
that man I was sitting with.”

“And what was he doing?”

She flushed a brilliant red. I would have found it endearing
had I not known why she was upset. She was attracted to the café manager and
that annoyed me much, much more than it should.

“He was kissing a woman. There, are you happy?”

I smiled; I couldn’t help myself. I felt as if I’d won some
major battle. “You weren’t imagining it. You were seeing what the future could
be if you assisted him.”

“No! I don’t want to!
I
want
him
, damn it.”

I wasn’t surprised. Yet, the admittance made me see red; her
feelings toward Tony actually angered me. “You can’t fight his soul mate, Ms.
Watts. You can try, but the soul mate always wins. Now, who was the woman he
was kissing?”

“Paula, some woman who lives in my building,” she muttered,
moving away.

I threw my arms wide. “There you go. Your first match.”

“They aren’t a match!”

A frustrated pulse beat in the side of my neck. She wouldn’t
even admit what was right before her eyes. The woman was driving me insane.
Bloody hell, I never lost control of my emotions. I spun around and moved
toward the windows, needing distance from her. “Do you know that for sure?”

“Well, I thought…” She sighed loud and long. “No. I don’t
know it for sure.”

I fought my smirk. “Try. Introduce them. See what happens.
Unless you’re afraid.”

“Nice try, but I’m not five and reverse psychology went out
years ago.”

I shrugged as I turned toward her, knowing I’d won this
round. Perhaps this wouldn’t be so difficult after all. Now, if only I could
win the battle against my attraction. “Then try it.”

The door handle turned.

Emma stiffened. “Crap.”

I knew without looking it was her grandmother and sister; I
could sense their energy. Lizzie, vibrant and light; her grandmother, anxious
and dark. I also knew, by the way Emma was glaring daggers at me, she was worried
I’d say something inappropriate in front of them.

“My grandmother,” she muttered.

The door opened and her sister swept inside, their
grandmother close behind. “Emma?”

I wasn’t sure what I’d been expecting, but it hadn’t been a
formidable dragon in tweed. Her faded hazel gaze immediately found me as if she
had a built-in tracking device. She and Lizzie both froze in the middle of the
living room.

With a haughty countenance, her grandmother demanded, “Who
is this?” But I could tell by the look in her eyes she already knew. She might
not have told Emma about her powers, but it was obvious the old woman had heard
about the family curse.

“A…a friend,” Emma explained, raking her hands through her
hair in a nervous gesture.

“Don’t lie to me, Emma. It’s him, the man Clarice sent?”

“He’s a solicitor or lawyer or something,” Lizzie added
helpfully. This morning she was wearing brilliant purple shorts and a silver
top, so completely at odds with her sister’s vintage T-shirt and jeans.

I ignored the grandmother. “Emma, we need to discuss this.
We don’t have time—”

“No.” She held up her hands, warning me off. “I’m not
discussing anything with you. Leave the papers for the cottage and go.”

Anger and annoyance combined. We were back to square one.
Nothing I said had made any difference. But it didn’t matter whether she
believed or not, the powers were there. “Emma, you don’t understand—”

“You heard her.” The grandmother stepped forward, placing
herself between me and Emma, as if she thought to protect her. It was obvious
the old witch had heard about the powers, but what exactly did she know?

“Grandmother.” Emma sighed, resting her hand on the woman’s
shoulder. “Don’t.”

“What’s going on?” Lizzie asked, the only one in the dark.
Why couldn’t she have inherited the powers? I wasn’t the least bit attracted to
her. She wasn’t stubborn and hotheaded.

“Nothing,” Emma snapped.

I’d had enough for the day. Even Protectors had their
limits. I scooped up my jacket. “You can toss me from your home, Ms. Watts. You
can pretend I don’t exist and I will be happy to keep my distance from you.” I
punched my arms through the sleeves of my jacket. “But you can’t escape what
you are.”

With that said, I did the one thing I’d sworn to my
superiors I’d never do. I turned and left my ward to the fates of her powers.

Emma

Grandmother locked the door. “He won’t come back. I’ll make
sure of it.”

With my heart hammering erratically in my chest, I merely
stood there. I was unable to say a word because I wasn’t sure what to say. Heck,
I wasn’t even sure what I felt. The world had suddenly tilted. My life was
shaken to its core.

Odd. Wrong. Vulnerable. Alone.

Those were just a few of the emotions that rushed through my
body as I stared at the door where only moments before Owen had disappeared.
Ridiculous emotions considering I’d known the man all of two days. I’d been
alone most of my life. I’d never needed anyone before, and I certainly didn’t
need anyone now. Definitely not this guy…this stranger. So, why the heck did I
feel as if he’d just broken up with me?

“Are you packed?”

“What?” I turned toward my grandmother, confused, not
understanding her words, or even why she was there.

The woman was picking up my dirty clothes, a look of disgust
upon her face, as Lizzie stood there watching helplessly. “You’ll stay with me,
of course. I won’t have you at home alone with that maniac about on the
streets.” She folded a T-shirt. “I wonder how one goes about getting a
restraining order. Missy Colbroke’s husband was a DA, we’ll ask him. Although,
Lord knows, we don’t need this getting around the gossip mill. If the women at
the country club found out—”

“No. No, I won’t.” I snatched the T-shirt from her hands and
tossed it to the couch. Something was off, as much as I hated admitting it.
Owen was right; I did feel weird. I raked my hands through my hair, pacing the
floor because I couldn’t seem to stand still. I just needed a few minutes of
privacy to figure everything out.

“Emma.” Lizzie lightly gripped my arm. “Are you okay?”

“Don’t be ridiculous,” Grandmother interrupted. “You can’t
stay here with your father’s family stalking you.”

I rolled my eyes. Stalking? “He’s not related to them, he
just works for them and he’s not stalking me.” At least, I didn’t think he was.
If he were stalking me, he would have stayed, right? Not run off as if I were
some annoying gnat he couldn’t smash.

“You’re coming home with me.”

“No, I’m not.” Sheez, could the woman not hear? “You can’t
stand it, can you? You can’t stand the idea of Lizzie and me being here because
then you can’t control us. Why do you think Mom’s so screwed up?”

Okay, maybe I’d gone too far. Lizzie remained quiet,
shifting uncomfortably. She hated confrontation of any kind, while I seemed to
thrive on it.

“Don’t be stupid, Emma,” she snapped. “You have no idea what
they are. They’re insane, all of them. And your aunt was the worst.”

I narrowed my eyes. “What do you know of my aunt? You told
me you didn’t know anything about her.” Another lie. So many lies. Why couldn’t
people just tell the truth?

Grandmother lifted her chin high, no guilt in her faded
hazel eyes. “I knew
of
her, Emma. I’d
heard the rumors from your mother’s very mouth. Your father’s family is crazy.
Insane. You can’t possibly be thinking of taking that cottage in France.”

I wanted to laugh at the absurdity of it all. How often had
I thought my grandmother was insane? She was claiming my father’s family was
crazy? Lord, they were all insane. And I was the craziest of all for standing
here and talking to the woman as if we could have a rational conversation.

“I need to take a walk.”

Grandmother smoothed down her skirt and picked up her purse.
“Fine, we’ll wait here for you to return.”

I spun around to face her, furious. No! Don’t you get it? I
don’t want you here. Your days of controlling me are long gone. In fact, they
never existed.”

“Emma,” Lizzie pleaded.

I felt bad for leaving my sister, especially since I’d
always been responsible for her. But if I didn’t get some air I’d scream, or
worse. Before the old bat could get in another word, I tore open the door and
stormed into the hall. I had to get away…had to. I stumbled down the stairs and
pushed the door wide, stepping into the crisp morning air. The beach. I’d walk
to the beach. Listening to the waves always helped clear my head.

“You all right?”

I glanced up to see Paula, my neighbor, the very woman Tony
had kissed in my mind. A roar of blood rushed through my being. Denial rang
sweetly in my ears; at the same time, the image of the two together nestled
into my head like a freaking Hallmark card. She was older than me, more Tony’s
age. She was pretty and sophisticated. Of course he’d like her.

“Yeah,” I thought I murmured. I wasn’t sure. The world was
spinning and my voice had grown muffled. I shook my head, trying to clear my
thoughts. The sun was too bright, my life too confusing.

She rested her hand on my upper arm, the concern upon her
pretty face nauseating. “Emma?”

At her touch, the image flashed freshly to mind. No, no,
they didn’t belong together.

I pushed past her and hurried down the sidewalk, as if I
could escape my problems. But I felt my problems following me like a dog on a
leash. Where had Owen gone? Had he truly left me for good? My anger grew, and I
clung to that emotion like it was a lifeline. How dare he come here, interrupt
my normal life, and then abandon me. What kind of Protector was he?

My shoulder brushed a female tourist.

The world disappeared and suddenly I was standing in a
warehouse of some kind, packing boxes surrounding me.

“I’m working,” a man
with brown hair said. “You’re not supposed to be here.”

“I know,” the woman
who’d brushed my shoulder responded. “But I can’t do this any more…I have to be
with you.”

Someone bumped me and suddenly I was back in my body,
gasping for air. The harsh sun beat down on me, glaring and obtrusive.

“Are you okay?” an older woman asked, watching me through
faded blue eyes as she clutched her purse to her sagging bosom. Mrs. Hugh from
the library.

I could hear it now.
That
crazy Watts girl. Just like her mom and dad!

“Fine.” I gave her a tight smile and hurried on, a
restlessness urging me to run. I was losing it. But then being near Grandmother
would do that to a person. Added to the fact that I’d been told I had special
powers, and it was no surprise I felt insane. I paused and released a harsh,
desperate laugh.

A man strolling by hurried his steps, glancing nervously at
me. What the hell was going on? The dull ache in my head flared to life. I
cringed, pressing my fingers to my temples. I couldn’t touch anyone. No one
could touch me. Suddenly, the town was too loud, too crushing. I pressed my
palms to my ears. Someone bumped into me, sending me stumbling off-balance.

An image of two people
jumping in waves, laughing and happy…another couple. Another and another.

The world came in and out of focus…dark and light, dark and
light. My mouth went dry, my heart hammering a rhythm that threatened to crack
my ribs and break from my chest. A dream. It had to all be a dream. I stumbled
forward, intending to slump onto the nearest bench, but ran right into a hard
body. Firm fingers gripped my upper arms.

“Are you all right?”

Frantic, I glanced up into Owen’s green eyes. I actually
felt relieved to see him, but at the same time wanted to hit him for bringing
this into my life. I couldn’t respond. My mind wasn’t my own. The pictures in
my head were too jumbled, too confusing. I couldn’t make them stop. Dear Lord,
where were they coming from?

He sighed. “Come on.”

I didn’t argue as he led me down the sidewalk. Didn’t even
put up a fight when he pushed open the cemetery gate and pulled me into the
local graveyard. I didn’t care what he did, where we went, as long as he made
the images stop.

“I should have known this would happen,” he muttered.

Vaguely, I was aware of the tall marble tombstones
surrounding me, but mostly I was aware of the images fading, leaving me in
blessed peace. Here, in this cemetery, there were no living people to
interfere. Owen dropped his hold and I sank to the soft dirt, my knees to my chest.
The earth comforted me, absorbed the pain somehow.

“What the hell was that?” I whispered.

“When someone touches you, if they are ready for true love,
you will see their soul mate.”

Stunned, I stumbled to my feet. “I can’t touch anyone
without that happening?”

“For now, until you gain control.”

“Oh God.” I rubbed my hands over my face. “I don’t even want
to hear my own romantic thoughts, and now I’ve got to hear everyone else’s?”

He quirked a brow. “So, do you believe me now?”

His voice was so arrogant, so condescending, that I pressed
my lips firmly together, refusing to answer. Did I believe him? I couldn’t
explain the overwhelming images and emotions that had suddenly bombarded me
when I’d left my apartment. I sure as heck couldn’t explain Paula and Tony.

I peeked up at him. He frowned. He seemed to frown a lot.
Instead of arguing, he merely reached down, slipped his hand under my arm, and
jerked me to my feet in a no-nonsense manner.

“Hey!” I snapped, but his grip was too firm, and I was still
too weak to pull away.

“Just a moment, if you please. I need to show you
something.”

If you please?
Where the heck was this guy from? The 1800s? Before I could voice my protest,
he pulled me up the wide, shallow steps of an ancient mausoleum. He dropped my
hand and took hold of the chain wrapped around the door handles. The lock was
obviously new, which was weird considering the mausoleum was ancient.

I glanced nervously around the cemetery. “What are you
doing?”

With a firm grip, he twisted the chain until I heard a
distinct pop.

“You are not breaking in! It’s illegal!”

He slid me a wry glance. “If I get arrested, I’ll make sure
to tell the police that you tried to talk me out of it.” He pulled open the
doors and a wave of death and despair made me gag. With none-too-gentle hands,
he shoved me inside. I stumbled across the marble floor, the stained glass
window at the back of the mausoleum throwing a colorful pattern across the
walls…the only thing bright and cheerful about the place.

The doors shut with a loud thud. I spun around, facing him.

Owen stood there watching me, waiting. “Better?”

I hesitated. This was without a doubt the oddest place a guy
had ever taken me. “The voices are gone, but the smell…my God!” I covered my
nose with my hand, coughing on the putrid scent. Surely the people who had been
buried here were only bones, so where was the scent coming from?

He crossed his arms over his chest. He’d lost his jacket and
wore only a dress shirt and vest. “You’ll need to pace yourself until you get
used to the images.”

“What? Hide out in mausoleums? Yeah, right. That’s going to
happen.”

“Your abilities, Ms. Watts. You need to learn to focus on
one couple at a time so the others can’t invade.”

“Emma,” I snapped, annoyed with his haughty ways. “Just call
me Emma.”

Why was I worried about what he called me? I was standing in
a mausoleum, for God’s sake. I turned, intending to pace, only to realize there
was nowhere to pace. Hell, I was in a tomb chatting away with some British guy
about true love.

“All right,
Emma
.
The ability your aunt had to match soul mates has now passed to you fully. Your
ability to match is ready, even if you aren’t.”

I shook my head. “This is insane.”

“Is it?” He started forward, the color from the stained
glass highlighting his features. He was tall, but seemed even larger in this
small space. “Maybe, yet you can’t deny what you’re experiencing.”

“What? A headache?”

“You know it’s more than that.” He stopped in front of me,
so close his scent tempted, taunted, and teased. I hated when he got this close
to me; I liked my personal space. I had a feeling he knew, and used it to his
advantage. The jerk was trying to intimidate me. He didn’t realize that it took
a heck of a lot to scare me.

“There is magic in this world.”

“Fine, prove it.” I crossed my arms over my chest, waiting
for the impossible. I thought I’d won; I should have known better.

Owen didn’t even pause, but strolled to the closest stone
coffin. Wedging his fingers underneath the lid, he lifted until his biceps bulged
through the fine cotton of his sleeves. The heavy top creaked and groaned as it
slid back. That scent of death and decay burst fully into the air, so thick I
swore I could see the stench like a cloud.

I froze, horrified. “What the hell?”

“Look.” Owen stepped aside and nodded toward the coffin.

This had truly taken a turn for the crazy. “No, thanks.”

I could tell by his stubborn expression he wasn’t going to
let me leave until I did. “You wanted proof.”

Curiosity overrode common sense. Hesitantly, I stepped
closer. The scent almost brought me to my knees. “Ughhh.” I pressed my hand to
my nose, breathing through my mouth, and peered into the coffin. For just a
moment, nothing existed. The world had faded, all my beliefs gone. I was too
caught up in the sight of the grotesque gray carcass to care about anything
else.

“What is that?” It looked like a hairless monster, its mouth
agape, showing sharp, pointed teeth as it stared unblinkingly up at the
ceiling. Horrified, I stumbled back.

Owen looked completely unconcerned as he pulled the lid back
into place. “A demon.” He brushed his hands on his trousers and turned to face
me. “A demon that would have killed you the other night if I hadn’t killed him
first.”

He’d killed a demon? I stared at him, partly horrified,
partly in awe. I wasn’t sure which surprised me most—that there were demons, or
that he had gone all Buffy the Demon Slayer on it.

“A demon, of course,” I whispered, stunned.