Make Me A Match (The Matchmaker) (9 page)

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.”

“Then why do you wear them?”

“Because before…” He looked annoyed for some reason, as if
he didn’t want to share with me, or maybe he couldn’t be bothered. “Before I
became a Protector, I needed them. I got used to them.”

Before?
I figured
he’d been born to this sort of lifestyle. He lifted my arm and gently swiped at
the blood rolling down my side. Rippling pain pulsed through me with every
touch. I gritted my teeth, refusing to cry out. He thought I was some pansy in
need of protection; I wasn’t about to prove him right. My body grew hot, sweat
beaded across my forehead. I could take this without saying a word, I
would
.

But there was pain…so much pain. And blood. Oh my God, there
was so much blood, the mere smell of it made me dizzy.
 

“Owen.” My muscles became limp, my lashes drifting toward my
cheekbones. I could feel the blood dripping from my side, to my thighs, to the
countertop.
Drip. Drip. Drip.
Life
fading from my body.

“Emma, stay with me, just a moment longer.”

His voice was like a rope in a sea of turbulence. He wrapped
an arm around my waist, holding me upright. “Look at me,” he demanded.

I forced my gaze to his. Our eyes met, held. His strength
gave me courage; his warmth swept through my body and instantly the pain faded,
receding back into the hell from which it came. Bemused, I blinked my eyes
wide; the world was vivid once more. What the heck had happened? I lowered my
gaze to Owen’s hand as he stuck the needle through my skin. Although I couldn’t
feel the needle pierce my side, I sucked in a sharp breath all the same.

He glanced up. “Don’t move.”

I held completely still, horrified by the sight of my bloody
skin being stitched back together, as if he mended a doll.

Owen tightened his arm around my waist, probably worried I’d
bolt. “Do you feel anything?”

I shook my head. My body was numb. Owen’s long fingers
pulled the needle through my skin, then tucked it back into my side over and
over in tiny stitches. Lord, I couldn’t look away, that needle was mesmerizing.
Those ugly black strings crisscrossing my side made me look like some sort of
Frankenstein. Why didn’t it hurt?

“You were lucky,” he said softly, his breath warm across my
neck. “I should’ve gotten there sooner.”

“It wasn’t your fault,” I said, although why I felt the need
to placate him, I didn’t fully understand. Heck, I hadn’t had these problems until
he’d arrived. Maybe it was his fault.

“You can’t run off anymore.” He tucked the needle back into
my skin, continuing his neat row of stitches, as if he’d done this many times
before. “They’ve found you. I don’t know how, but somehow they know who you
are. Your powers are growing, spreading. They’ll only keep coming now.”

I shivered at the thought. “Why?”

He pulled away from me and swiped at his damp forehead with
the back of his hand. It was only then that I noticed he was sweating. He
quickly wrapped his arm around my waist again, holding me close to his chest so
I couldn’t move.

“They’re demons. They kill other supernatural beings for
their energy, their power.” He finally finished the last stitch. The dark line
was ugly, but would hold. The blood had tapered off to a seeping wound. But as
he reached into his bag for a bandage, I noticed something odd. His fingers
were trembling.

I jerked my gaze to his face, so close, I could see the gold
flecks in his green eyes. “Owen, are you all right?”

He nodded, his jaw set. When he didn’t meet my gaze, I knew
something was wrong. He was too pale, sweat beading across his forehead almost
as if he were in pain. Lord, was he one of those guys who couldn’t handle a
little blood? Or was it more?

“What’s wrong?” I demanded. Had the demon swiped at him
while I hadn’t noticed? “Where are you hurt?”

I reached for him.

“Hold still,” he snapped.

I froze while he tied off the stitches, waiting impatiently
for him to finish. I felt like a million bucks, but he looked like total crap.
He dropped his arms to his side but didn’t step back. For a long moment we just
stood there, so close I could feel his heat. So close that his musky scent
swirled around me, ocean, pine forests…him. Still he didn’t move, almost as if
he was trying to regain his nerve.