The Matchmakers (3 page)

           
`I’m ba-aack,śhe
sang. Nick sank into the nearest kitchen chair and stared at her. `I’m not
going to ask how you did that, because I probably didn’t really see what I
think I saw.´ `Yes, you did.Śhe crossed the kitchen and gently put her
hand on his shoulder. Nick flinched. Talking to a hallucination was one thing,
but feeling one touch him was something else entirely. `You’re not dead and you’re
not crazy.Śhe crouched in front of him and looked up into his eyes. She
seemed so real. He could even smell her perfume, a faint flowery scent, like
roses« `Are you a ghost?´ He’d read somewhere that ghosts tended to smell like
roses or tobacco, scents they carried with them from their former lives to
reassure the people they left behind. Of course, Nick didn’t believe in ghosts
or, for that matter, people who could disappear at will. `Not a ghost. I’m a
faerie. Though we prefer the term Fae.´ `A faerie.´ Well, why the hell not? `Like
sugar plums and Tinkerbell?Śhe shrugged and moved across the kitchen to
lean against the counter by the sink, once again cutting off his access to the
phone. `Those are stereotypes, of course, but you’re close.´ `Where are your
wings?´ `Wouldn’t you like to know?Śhe winked, crossed her legs at the
ankle and gave him a cockeyed grin. `If we succeed, maybe you’ll get to see
them. Right now, we need to start formulating a plan.´ `My plan is to get
myself to a rubber room ASAP. I’m not too proud to admit that I may need
professional help.´ `You don’t. Well, you
do
, but that’s another story. You’re not imagining me.´ `It’s funny, I don’t
feel crazy. I don’t think I’m asleep. Maybe I hit my head going over the
embankment, and I’m in a coma or something.Śhe sighed. `You’re not any of
those things. I’m real. You’re real, and we’re in a real fix. The Fae Goddess,
Freya, has sentenced us to the task of joining together three couples in true
love before the night of the Oak Moon. If we fail, we will both lose love
forever.´ Nick blinked again, hoping his visitor would `popóut of existence and
leave him to go quietly insane by himself. None of what she said made sense. He
still thought she might be a lunatic who’d broken into his apartment with plans
to kill him, or chain him to the bed and cut parts off like that crazy dame in
the Stephen King novel. He was beginning to think he should have stayed at
Miranda’s and duked it out with Skip. At least he’d be in jail or in the ER now
where he could get some professional help.

           
She snapped her fingers,
and his drifting gaze bounced back up to her face. `Stay with me, Nick. We’ve got
a lot of work to do.´ `Right. Work.´ He rose and headed for the fridge, sparing
the telephone another longing glance. Why bother now? Might as well hear her
out. He opened the refrigerator and reached past the half loaf of bread and a
jar of grape jelly to grab a beer. Would this be his fourth tonight, or his
first? He popped the top, not caring that the cap landed on the cracked
linoleum and rolled under the stove. He downed half the brew while the faerie
eyed him expectantly. `Want one?´ `No, thank you.´ `Good. Now, I’m going to
drink the rest of this and probably at least one more before I’ll be ready to deal
with any more of this. If you’re still here by then, we’ll start at the
beginning. You can explain what exactly you are and what I’m supposed to do to
get you out of my head and my house before I really do go insane, assuming I’m
not already.
Capice
?Śhe nodded,
and he drained the beer. He set the empty bottle on the counter and snagged a
second. She was still there when he closed the refrigerator door. When he
placed the second empty beer bottle on the kitchen table and took a seat, she
was also still there. `Are you ready now?śhe asked, and the exasperated
undertone in her voice gave him a chilly reminder of his mother. He closed his
eyes and nodded. `Start at the beginning and go slow.Ćalliope shrugged out
of her coat under Nick’s disconcerting scrutiny. He obviously expected her to turn
homicidal at any moment, and she wasn’t quite sure how to convince him to trust
her. Most of the humans to whom she’d demonstrated any of her Fae abilities
immediately wanted to see more amazing feats and ended up begging her to grant
them wishes. She squeezed her eyes shut at that unpleasant memory. Granting
wishes seemed like such a nice thing to do and the ones she’d granted in the
past were simple, benign. Not much more than favors, really. It wasn’t as if
she’d given anyone eternal life or inexhaustible wealth or ultimate power. She
shook off the creeping tingle of shame that tickled the edges of her
well-hidden wings and tossed her coat on the back of one of Nick’s
pomegranate-colored kitchen chairs. `May I sit down?Śhe almost missed Nick’s
response, a nearly imperceptible tilt of his head. She pulled the chair out and
sat before he had a chance to change his mind. The cold, faded red surface of
the ancient kitchen table gave her a chill when she leaned her forearms on it,
and she had to rub them briskly with her hands to keep her Fae blood flowing.
Why couldn’t she have been exiled to a warmer climate to carry out her task? `It’s
a complicated story,śhe said. `I’ll bet.´ `Um«´ Why did he have to stare
at her like that? He seemed to look into her, suffusing her with the heat of
self-consciousness.

 
Despite the hard-earned wisdom she
saw in his eyes, he still thought her a menace to his well being. One sudden
move and she had no doubt she’d find herself evicted from his apartment as
unceremoniously as he’d ejected her from his truck. `Okay. Here’s the short
version. Feel free to ask questions. I’m a Fae. I belong to the caste that
governs the fulfillment of destiny, specifically love. The Fae goddess, Freya,
presides over my caste. She’s my boss, so to speak.´ `What is she like Cupid?´ `He’s
retired now, but yes, in a way. My caste we help the cause of true love. We
help put people together.´ `That sounds better than taking them apart.´ `Let me
finish.´ Had he smirked at her? Was she cracking his gruff, skeptical exterior?
`I really like my job. Maybe too much. I got carried away recently and did
something I wasn’t supposed to do. I granted a wish.´ `You grant wishes?´ He
sat forward, suddenly interested. Next he’d be asking to win the lottery. Callie
rolled her eyes and settled her gaze on the fine cracks that marred the finish
on the table. She traced the delicate lines with her thumb as she continued,
reluctant to confess her sins.
Remember,
if this
all works,
 
he’ll
forget everything I tell him.
`I
don’t
grant wishes. That’s the point. I’m not allowed to, even when they’re
simple, easy, mostly harmless little wishes. I’m not allowed.´ `So you broke
the rules?´ The tone of his question told her he admired that. Nick was a rule
breaker of epic proportions, so he understood the need to buck the system. `Yes.
I allowed a human to wish for someone to fall in love with her someone who was
the one she wanted, but not the one she needed. I made a mess of things.´ Nick
put one elbow on the table and rested his chin in his hand. `Go on.Ćallie
saw it immediately the change in his demeanor from guarded skepticism to
guarded amusement. He no longer thought she was a psychopath, just a harmless
loony bird on the loose. Fortunately she still had an arsenal of Fae tricks at
her disposal to help him become a true believer. `After Freya stepped in and
helped me set things right, and after an
eternity
of heated debate, it was decided that my punishment for breaking the rules
was«you.´ `Me?´ He laughed, and the deep sound rumbled pleasantly. How could a
man with a laugh like that be all bad? `Sweet cheeks, I’ve been a lot of things
to a lot of women, but I’ve never been anyone’s punishment. I’d say you made
out on the deal.´ `Oh please.Śuch arrogance. Nick’s biggest problem was
that he liked himself for the wrong reasons. His sex appeal and charm were
undeniable to any
human
female, of
course, but as Freya had explained to Callie, those shallow qualities were all
he had. There was nothing underneath, or very little anyway, that could be
salvaged into a loving, caring soul. `You’re my punishment because you’re a
hopeless case. Or nearly hopeless.´ `A hopeless case of what?´ He laughed again
and rose, turning his back on her in a show of trust she hadn’t expected so
quickly. He opened the fridge again and fished out a third beer, which he
offered to her. `You need this more than I do.´ `No, thank you. Alcohol does
bad things to Fae. Now, back to you. You’re a hopeless case because you’ve been
decreed an enemy of true love.´ His hypnotic eyes widened, and his smile faded.
`Enemy? That’s a strong word. How about µdisgruntled former acquaintance’?Ćallie
shook her head. `Nope. You’re a DEF CON 1, picture-in-the-post-office type of
enemy.´ He stiffened a little, obviously back on the defensive. `What«uh«happens
to enemies of true love?Ćallie smiled. `You get a chance to redeem
yourself. I’m your chance.Ćhapter Four Nick set the unopened beer on the
counter and leaned back, appraising her again. `I can redeem myself to this
goddess Freya by what did you say before helping unite three couples in true
love?´ `With my help. We do it together.´ `I’m no matchmaker, Tinkerbell.´ `Calliope.
Or Callie, please. You will need to become one if you don’t want to forfeit
love forever.´ Callie sensed she was losing him. `You can’t lose something you
never had.´ He looked down at his work boots, and his voice changed, became
laced with a hint of hard-edged regret. `Send Freya my apologies, but I don’t
give a damn about redeeming myself.´ When he looked up, his eyes were cold. Disappointment
swept through Callie, and she felt an unfamiliar heaviness in her chest. That
swell of hopelessness had returned. Freya had given her a truly impossible
task. `Maybe you haven’t experienced true love yet, but imagine if you were
never able to love at all.´ He straightened. `You mean I could never«you know«´
 
Men
.
`No, that’s
not
what I mean. You’ll
be able to«have sex. You’ll still feel lust and infatuation and those deceptive
emotions that feel just like love for a short time, but it will never be real
love. You’ll never be able to love anyone ever again not a spouse, a sibling, a
parent or even a child. Imagine that, Nick. Having a child you couldn’t love.´ He
shrugged, but she saw the stab of pain she’d caused. Her words had reached his
heart. `People do that all the time.´ `And you want to be one of those people?´
`We’re getting ahead of ourselves here. I don’t plan to have children. I’m not
that kind of guy.´ `People do
that
all
the time, too have children they didn’t plan on.Śhe had him there, and he
knew it. `If you don’t care about your own future, then at least help
me
out. If we fail, I’ll suffer the same
fate. No love forever. And
I’m
immortal.´
His blue eyes narrowed on her, and Callie responded by batting her lashes. She’d
have waggled her wings, too, but she wasn’t allowed to show them, and she
couldn’t afford to break any more of Freya’s rules. `Let me think about it. Why
don’t you go home for now, and we’ll meet again«tomorrow. We’ll talk more about
it then.´ `We really shouldn’t waste any time. The Oak Moon is only sixty-three
days away.´ `Tomorrow is a better day to start. Why don’t you pop out and pop
back in around noonish? I’ll order us a pizza.´ There was a challenge in his
voice. He probably wanted to see her tricks again just to be sure he wasn’t nuts.
Callie grabbed her gloves and her coat and obliged with a small wave. `Okay,
Nick. Goodbye for now.´ Nick swept his gaze around the room as thoroughly as
possible without moving any other muscles. She’d done it again. Her magic trick
wigged him out a little more this time than it had before, though he wasn’t
sure why. He’d seen a couple of shows in Vegas where illusionists made things
disappear like that women, motorcycles, Bengal tigers. From a hundred feet away
in a dark, crowded auditorium, he’d found it endlessly entertaining. Up close
and personal in his very own kitchen, it made him twitchy. After several
complete sweeps of the minute hand over the clock above the sink, he deemed it
safe to move. A complete recon of the entire apartment, closets and all he even
peeked behind the shower curtain turned up nothing. All the windows were
locked, the front door, too. How she’d gotten in didn’t concern him half as
much as how she’d gotten out. Or if she had. Nothing stood between Nick and the
phone now, but he couldn’t bring himself to make the call. What would he tell
the police anyway? She’d gone peacefully and without damaging anything, and she’d
left no evidence of her existence except the lingering scent of roses. Nick
didn’t remember going to bed. He barely remembered inspecting his truck by
flashlight and finding his cell phone on the floor under the passenger seat,
then running his hands along the paint job as he looked for the scratches and
dents that couldn’t have disappeared without a trace. He vaguely recalled his
third beer and the four times he’d picked up the phone to report his wingless,
green-eyed faerie to the police. Now, it all seemed like a dream that could be
easily forgotten. During those first few minutes of partial amnesia after he’d
pried his leaden eyelids open, he thought again about leaving town. He’d been
in Bayerville for eight months. That was longer than he’d stayed anywhere since
he’d left home about twenty minutes after he turned eighteen. Twelve years of
roaming the country, seeing the world, had taken him as far south as Acapulco
and as far north as Nova Scotia. There were dozens of places he’d promised to
return to and hundreds he’d vowed to stay away from. Bayerville, Pennsylvania
was a pretty little place that presented itself at a time when he needed a
break. He’d found a furnished apartment with a month-to-month lease and started
taking carpentry jobs to pay the rent. He’d gotten comfortable.