Make Me a Match

By Lori Brighton

Copyright 2013 Lori Brighton

www.LoriBrighton.com

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This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, brands, media, and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or used fictitiously. The author acknowledges the trademark status and trademark owners of various products referenced in this work of fiction, which have been used without permission. The publication/use of these trademarks is not authorized, associated with, or sponsored by the trademark owners.

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Editing by Pam Berehulke of Bulletproof Editing

Cover art and design by Ronnell D. Porter

Make Me a Match

Lori Brighton

For Alison, who knows me best of all.

Michigan, USA

Chapter 1

Emma

“Come on. Make your move, you jerk.”

Three freaking weeks. For three freaking weeks I’d been watching him. Three freaking weeks I’d been forced to shadow his every dull move…spying on some pathetic loser’s life in order to get that one photo opportunity that would pay next month’s rent.

It had never bothered me before. Why, now, did I feel so frustrated?

I sighed and lowered the camera. Spying was way less fun than it was portrayed on television, especially when it revolved around watching from the shrubbery while middle-aged perverts tried to pick up women half their age. No cloaks and daggers for me. No running for my life through narrow European alleys. Certainly no mysterious hot men coming to my rescue.

“Emma! Emma! I have the telephoto lens.” Lizzie’s voice carried easily across the parking lot, no doubt drawing the attention of the numerous patrons who were enjoying the outside deck…including the man we were spying on.

Glaring over my shoulder, I pressed my finger to my lips. “What part of incognito don’t you understand?”

My sister frowned, tottering as she climbed over the curb and stepped into the pea gravel that surrounded the lilacs and azaleas. She handed me the lens. “Sorry. Sheesh, you’re in a mood.”

I ignored her comment, having more important things to worry about than her overly sensitive thin skin. A deck with tables took advantage of the lake view while Bob Marley played on outdoor speakers. Our target was currently reclining in a bamboo-framed chair, bobbing his head in time to the music, but his gaze, oh yes, his gaze remained focused on the bar.

“Did anyone see me?” Lizzie asked, smoothing down her white pencil skirt and kneeling carefully beside me.

I’d been hiding in front of the pub for a good thirty minutes now, waiting for our target to make his move, and Lizzie had almost blown my cover in the mere two minutes since she’d arrived. “I don’t know, but just in case, you need to hide.”

Lizzie dropped to her knees, grimacing when the gravel bit into her tender flesh. “He looks pretty normal for a cheater.”

“Don’t they all,” I mumbled, wondering what my sister had been thinking by wearing a skirt and heels to a stakeout.

But Lizzie was a novice. Beyond a novice. She’d never make it as a spy. She was too naive, too innocent. Heck, she read romance novels, for God’s sake. The first thing this business taught a person was that the idea of true love was a ridiculous myth that housewives clung to in order to give meaning to their mundane lives. Yep, they clung to the idea until I arrived, camera in hand, to show them just how in love their husbands were…with the maid, the neighbor, the wife’s best friend, or the woman twenty years younger they’d met at a bar.

The target looked our way. “Get down!”

Lizzie dropped to her belly with a grunt, half falling into the lilac bush we were hiding behind. The purple blooms rattled in protest, sending their overwhelming perfume through the warm evening air. She might as well have waved a white flag, proclaiming to all our location. I closed my eyes and sighed. Counting to twenty helped…sometimes.

Still, it was a family business, which is why I didn’t fire her, and although it was hard juggling the PI firm and school, it was something I wasn’t ready to give up. Lizzie, on the other hand, would have given up years ago. I might have inherited our grandfather’s sleuthing ways, but not Lizzie. One thing was certain, she would never be a private investigator. Not like me. She was too positive, too bubbly, while I was made to crush the hopes and dreams of couples in love. And yeah, I might have even taken a perverse pleasure in proving to women that men were nothing but jerks. Attractive jerks, jerks I occasionally wanted to kiss, but jerks all the same. It was the one thing, the only thing, I was sure of.

“Stay still,” I whispered.

Lizzie nodded, her auburn ponytail waving back and forth.

When I was younger, I’d envied my sister’s ease at conversation and making friends. While she’d been liked by all, I’d always been the quiet good girl everyone overlooked. The girl who’d had too much responsibility taking care of her little sister and a depressed mother to attend basketball games and pep rallies. And now, heck, I was seventeen and had only been on a handful of lame dates.

But the past was the past. There was no use in dwelling. Pushing aside my dark thoughts, I looked through the lens of my camera, watching Kelly make her move. It didn’t take much; with a rack like hers, the gorgeous blonde had only to give a small smile and they’d come running like dogs in heat. I’d found the girl working in a strip club, and Kelly had been only too eager to leave the smoky joint.

The former stripper gave a little toss of her head, her long blonde locks shimmering under the setting sun. I was pretty sure Kelly loved taking down the same sort of slimeballs she’d been forced to endure for the five years of her adult life in that club.

“The man in the blue button-down,” I said into the tiny microphone pinned to the lapel of my jacket. “Looking your way now.”

Kelly gave a discreet nod and glanced over her shoulder toward our target. There it was…the smile. The poor sap didn’t have a chance. He surged from his chair, his eagerness almost tangible. With an arrogance that belied his thinning hair and middle-age paunch, he sauntered toward Kelly.

The man had money. That was obvious by the clothing he wore and the Jag he drove, and people with money thought they were gods. He leaned against the bar, his string of drool practically sliding down Kelly’s cleavage.

“You come here often?” came through my earpiece.

I snorted and stretched out upon my belly to get a better angle. Seriously? The man had made millions in the stock market and that was the best line he could come up with? I almost felt sorry for him…almost. Thankful for the leather jacket I wore, I settled my elbows into the gravel.

I needed that money shot, the photo his wife could use to take him for everything he owned, and with Kelly’s good looks and his neediness, it wouldn’t take long. Once I got that shot I could go home, soak in a tub, and forget for a short while the heartache I witnessed every day. It was, undoubtedly, the worst part of the job, handing that picture to the wife, proof that her husband wasn’t the man she thought she’d married. But better to know now than later. Right? I shook aside the thought. Besides, the check she’d write afterward made up for my unease. At least, that’s what I told myself.

A soft breeze blew in from Lake Michigan, sending small purple blooms raining through the air. Perhaps I’d go to the beach for a bit. When I was lying in the sand, my eyes half-closed, I could pretend I was on the Mediterranean.

Kelly giggled at something the target said, but I barely paid attention. I’d get it all on tape and go over it later. I was good at my job. The best. Grandpa would be proud, although I doubted he’d appreciate our newest clientele…cheating men. But you had to make money any way you could, and we definitely needed the money.

Still, lately I’d found my mind drifting, my attention wavering. Although the family business was as busy as ever, life seemed…lacking. I needed a vacation. A little time to recoup. Heck, I needed an actual life. I might not be able to afford the Mediterranean, but maybe I could talk Lizzie into driving to Florida for spring break. Nothing like string bikinis, illegal beer, and drunk frat guys to make a girl feel special.

Our target leaned closer, resting a possessive hand on Kelly’s thigh. I smiled and clicked. “Perfect. Now give me just a little more. Mama needs vacation money.”

“Is he going to kiss her?” Lizzie said a little too loudly, peering through the branches.

“Shhhh,” I hissed.

He leaned in, whispering nauseating nothings into Kelly’s ear. Click. I tried not to gag. How Kelly could allow these men to paw her, I hadn’t the slightest idea. Then again, I’d broken the guy’s finger who had dared to grab my butt at a bar last week. What could I say? I liked my personal space.

“You know,” Lizzie whispered. “You should totally be the decoy. A little makeup, put some gel in your hair…”

I resisted the urge to sigh. “Lizzie, please, like I want those guys pawing me.” As if to prove my point, the man leaned toward Kelly, his hand cupping the side of her face. Click. Click. “Yes, there we go. Kiss her, you sick freak.”

“It worries me how thrilled you are when you take these men down.”

I frowned. “Why shouldn’t I be? These men lie to their wives, their families—they should be destroyed. They’re arrogant jerks who think they can get away with anything.”

“Yeah, but it’s totally clouding your aura.”

I slid her a glance. At times I wasn’t sure if my sister was being serious or not. Surely no one could truly be that optimistic and clueless. For her sake, I hoped she was joking.

I shook my head and refocused on Kelly. The target was leaning in close. So close. Here came the money shot. The thrill of victory coursed bittersweet through my veins as I knew deep down that my win was someone else’s loss. He leaned closer, and I held my breath.

“Excuse me,” a refined British voice called out from behind us.

I froze. Crap. Perhaps if I ignored him, he’d go away. Frantically, I continued to push that button, click, click, click, attempting to get the money shot before this man, whoever he was, ruined everything. “The owner knows me. I have permission to be on his property.”

Which was true, sort of. I’d had permission last year, before someone had complained.

I pushed the button again. Click. Mentally, I urged the target to move closer to Kelly. Come on, come on. Why wasn’t he kissing her? She was totally kissable!

“Uh, no,” the guy insisted. “You’ve misunderstood.”

Lizzie nudged me in the arm, pushing me off-balance and making me drop the camera a few inches. I sighed and glanced over my shoulder, intending to give the man a piece of my mind. But his polished dress shoes momentarily surprised me into silence. My gaze moved from his feet to his pressed slate-gray trousers, up to his jacket and vest, complete with pristine white shirt underneath.

Lounge and beachwear were the norm here. Even the millionaires who visited from Chicago wore their Hawaiian shirts, attempting their best imitation of Jimmy Buffett. What Ivy League college had this guy crawled from, and why the heck was he here in Podunk, Michigan?

“I’m busy.”

He cleared his throat, shifting the briefcase from his right hand to his left. “It’s important.”

Nineteen or twenty, he couldn’t have been much older. But he carried a briefcase? Weird. Maybe he was older than I first guessed. He was tall, with broad shoulders and strong hands. A workman’s hands that belied his businessman attire. Curious, I couldn’t help but lift my gaze to his face. Square, smooth jaw. Firm lips. Sunlight glinted off dark hair, trimmed neatly and parted perfectly to the side. Wire-rimmed glasses covered his green eyes. My gaze jumped back to his. No, not just green. Intensely green. My heart squeezed slightly in surprise. If he ditched the glasses and suit, he’d have women eating out of his hands.

He was a total hot nerd. Like Clark Kent. I’d always had a thing for superheroes. I rolled back to my belly, intent on ignoring the man, and more importantly intent on ignoring the heat of attraction swirling in my gut.

Had Louie gotten a new manager? He was certainly taking his position rather seriously, if his suit were any indication. The former manager’s idea of dress clothing was an unstained wife-beater and jeans.

“Emma!” Lizzie cried out. “He’s kissing her!”

“Shoot!” I lifted the camera and started clicking before I’d even focused on the target. Sure enough, the man was pressing his mouth along Kelly’s delicate jaw. I should have been paying attention. I could have missed the shot and the paycheck, all because of a guy with brilliant green eyes. I definitely needed a vacation.

“You are Ms. Emma Watts?” the Englishman behind me persisted.

I didn’t dare look back or stop pushing that camera button, afraid I’d lose my opportunity. “Maybe.”

“I have something for you. Papers and…such.”

Papers. A man wearing a suit.

Realization hit like a punch to the stomach. I should have known. A freaking lawyer. I jerked around, looking up at him. Grandpa had been sued more than once. “You’ve got the wrong person—”

“Your aunt has died,” he said, ignoring my protest.

Relief was sweet. Not getting sued. Thank God. Although Grandpa always won the cases, it had taken time and money, neither of which I had. As the relief gave way, curiosity settled in. Aunt? As far as I knew, I didn’t have an aunt. “Like I said, wrong person. So either leave, or get down. You’re blowing my cover.”

He frowned, looking more than annoyed, but finally knelt beside me. The warm scent of spice and male swirled through the air, momentarily interrupting my concentration. Visiting bars and seedy motels, I’d spent more time than I cared to around men who barely bathed. I’d forgotten what a clean guy smelled like. He smelled good…really, really good.

“As I said, your aunt Clarice has died.”

Lord, his eyes were even more intense up close. A brilliant green, like moss after a spring rain. I shook my head. Pretty soon I’d be spouting poetry. I never should have sneaked a peak at Lizzie’s latest romance novel.

“We don’t have an Aunt Clarice,” Lizzie replied for me, giving the man a brilliant smile. A smile that had sent plenty of males panting to their knees. Sure enough, the man gave her a hesitant smile back…ensnared.

Annoyed with their little display of mutual flirtation, I looked away. Every day it was the same. Even though she was a year younger, guys always fell for Lizzie’s innocent and charming personality. I supposed it didn’t hurt that Lizzie was as hot as a supermodel with a body straight from a Victoria’s Secret catalog. While I was…well…me.

“She’s on your father’s side,” he explained.

“Figures.” Anger fought with surprise. As much as I wanted to know what the heck was going on, my pride wouldn’t allow me to ask questions. I wanted nothing to do with my father, the man who’d abandoned us years ago for his secretary. How cliché. And I sure as heck wanted nothing to do with his family, a family who hadn’t even deemed it important to send a birthday card once in a while.

“She’s left you something.” His warm breath brushed across the back of my neck, stirring the loose tendrils that had escaped my braid.

I shivered, an unwelcome response to his nearness.

“Oh my gosh!” Lizzie cried out in excitement. “What’d she leave her?”

Curious, I glanced over my shoulder. “Money?”

He frowned, as if finding talk about money vulgar. Typical snob. “No.”

“Can I sell it for money?” I asked just to annoy him, and it worked.

He sighed, obviously exasperated. “Well, not exactly.”

I turned back around, hiding my grin. “Then I’m not interested.”

How had this man found me, anyway? I did as much as possible to keep my address a secret, not wanting to incur the retaliation of some two-timing husband.

Kelly was smiling at the target, leaning into him a little too desperately. Was he pulling back? I should have been coaching her, not thinking about my father, now of all times. Yes, ironically I coached Kelly on how to flirt. Me, a seventeen-year-old who rarely dated. But that was beside the point. How dare my father’s family leave me something. I wanted to shove whatever it was down their throats and hoped they choked on it. I didn’t need anything from my father’s family…ever.

“Emma,” Lizzie hissed. “You’re being rude.”

I glared at Lizzie. Had my sister forgotten how our father’s family had ignored us when we’d needed their support the most? She was way too forgiving for her own good. I sure as heck wasn’t going to appease some deathbed sense of guilt.

The man sighed. “Ms. Watts, I don’t think you understand.”

I turned around once more, my anger flaring. “Oh, I understand completely. You don’t seem to, though, so let me spell it out for you. I want nothing from the family who abandoned us when my father left. I want nothing from the family who never called, not even sent a card. Do you understand now, Mister…”

I didn’t have his name. My rant would have been so much more effective if I’d had his name. He pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose. There was a bump there, as if it had been broken during a fight. I doubted this suit had fought anyone, unless it had been bullies picking on him in school.

“Owen Emerson. I’m Mr. Emerson.”

“Wonderful to meet you, Mr. Emerson,” I sneered. “Whatever it is my aunt left me, give it to charity. Now, please leave so I can do my job.”

His annoyed gaze flicked to Kelly, then back to me. I could imagine what he thought of my “job.” The look of disgust was plainly written across his handsome face. “Ms. Watts, please listen to me. I can’t give this gift away. It’s quite…impossible.”

I could admit, if only to myself, that I liked the way his voice sounded; smooth, deep, and lyrical. I completely understood why women so easily fell for an accent. Yes, his accent was hot, and I hated myself for thinking so.

“Nothing’s impossible, Mr. Emerson.”

“Eh, yes.” He hesitated, rubbing the back of his neck. “Of course, but in this case, there really is no way to donate this gift.”

“Really?” Lizzie asked, butting her nose into the conversation. “I’m Lizzie, by the way.”

They shook hands like the best of friends. I tried not to curse at her. Really, whose side was she on?

“Nice to meet you,” he said.

“So, what do you mean,” Lizzie asked. “Why can’t you give the gift away?”

His gaze flicked from me, but not before I noticed the unease. “Well, I suppose that’s not entirely correct. Perhaps there is one way to dispose of this gift.”

“Yeah?” I prompted, resting my camera on my knees. He had the most interesting scar on his jaw, a thin line that looked almost like a knife wound. No way. Was probably from a paper cut. “How?”

“Death.” He looked down at us, those green eyes shimmering with sincerity. “The only way to get rid of this gift is by dying.”

Lizzie’s gaze went wide. A look of pure horror, or was that excitement, crossed her perfect features. My sister did love the drama. “Death?” she whispered.

I sat upright and laughed. He looked so serious that I couldn’t help myself. Between the two of them, I felt like I was in the middle of one of those daytime soaps my mom liked to watch. “What, exactly, is this supposed gift?”

“Emma,” Lizzie interrupted, nudging me in the side. “The target’s looking this way!”

I jerked my head toward Kelly. The target watched us, frowning, while Kelly tried desperately to regain his attention, even so much as shoving her breasts in his face.

“Crap!” I grabbed a fistful of Owen’s shirt and jerked him down. He landed with a thud half atop me. Lizzie had somehow managed to crawl under the lilac, but I was barely aware of my sister. No, I could only seem to focus on the guy whose body was pressed to mine.

“Ms. Watts, this is quite inappropriate,” he hissed.

I would have laughed at his outrage, if I hadn’t been offended. I was a healthy, attractive female and he was complaining? Was he gay? The hot ones always were. Or was Lizzie right, did I need a makeover that badly? I shifted, attempting to put distance between our bodies, but the movement only brought us more fully together.

“Bloody hell.” He started to rise, but frantically I grabbed the lapels of his jacket, using my weight to hold him to me.

“Lizzie, is the target still looking?”

“I don’t know.” She crawled out from beneath the bush and peeked between the branches. “Oh no.”

I stiffened. “What?”

“He’s coming!”

Just at that moment I heard “Abort!” in my earpiece.

“Crap.” I released my hold and shoved my palms against Owen’s hard chest. He didn’t budge. “Move, man!”

He quirked a dark brow in an imperious way that annoyed the heck out of me. “What, now you want me to get up?”

“Don’t be difficult!”

With a glare, he jumped to his feet in a fluid, easy movement I couldn’t help but admire. Almost like someone who had studied the martial arts. But I didn’t have time to contemplate that little suspicion. I was much less graceful as I scrambled to my feet.

“You!” I heard someone scream behind me.

“He sounds angry.” Lizzie stated the obvious as she stumbled to her feet.

“Crap, crap, crap.” I snatched my camera from the ground. I couldn’t afford to leave it behind. “Run, Lizzie!”

I didn’t bother to look back. The target huffed toward us. I wasn’t worried about Kelly. She knew to leave and regroup at the apartment later. But Lizzie was stumbling over her own feet, thanks to her ridiculously high heels.

“Who the hell do you think you are?” the man screamed. He’d probably have a heart attack and I’d be blamed. “Did that witch put you up to this? I’ll sue! I’ll call the police!”

People were staring, turning to look toward us. My cover was totally blown. It sure as heck wasn’t good for business to be seen. I jumped over the curb and onto the asphalt. As long as Lizzie could keep up, we’d make it.

“Ms. Watts, we really need to talk,” Owen called out.

“Sorry, borrowed the car. Have to get it back to the rightful owner.”

“This is important!”

I latched on to Lizzie’s arm and dragged my sister across the parking lot. No man, or woman, left behind. “I’m not interested, Mr. Emerson.”

I dared to glance back. Owen was merely standing there looking just as put together as when he’d arrived. Not a speck of dirt marred his suit; not a hair out of place. A freaking god.

“Whatever it is, I don’t want it,” I added.

With that said, I turned back around and raced across the lot toward the beat-up Toyota. As I climbed inside and pulled out of the parking lot, I couldn’t shake the bad, bad feeling that this wasn’t the last I’d seen of Owen Emerson.

Chapter 2

Owen

“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” The man, realizing he’d lost Emma, apparently thought to take his anger out on me.

Ignoring him, I watched the small car tear out of the car park. I’d just met her and already she was leaving me to clean up her mess. Was it possible to dislike someone so intensely after only having had a five-minute conversation?

I brushed a leaf from my vest, frowning over a smudge of dirt that marred the material. I’d get a bloody demerit, thanks to her. The Consulate had taught us to keep up appearances at all times; we were professionals, after all. Yes, upon occasion we were required to use brute force, but that didn’t mean we had to dress like cavemen. “I assure you, sir, I had nothing to do with this.”

I gave the man a bored glance, hoping he’d take the hint and leave. Apparently the look hadn’t been dismissive enough.

The older man’s jowls quivered with righteous indignation. “You tell your woman—”

I held up my hand, having no wish to go further with this topic. “She’s not my woman.”

As if I’d date someone like her; the idea was insane. I glanced reluctantly at the car park, a space now devoid of frustrating women. A female who wasn’t even polite enough to listen to reason. A woman whose job it was to destroy marriages. Hell, what would the elders think?

Besides, it would be unprofessional to date a client, even if I could admit to myself that she wasn’t half-bad to look at. Blonde hair, brilliant blue eyes, hot body. But that innocent face belied the mouth and crankiness of a seasoned sailor. What had I gotten myself into? Bemused, I started to walk away, hoping to regroup with a pint somewhere.

“See here.” The man grabbed my shoulder.

Instinct flared to life. I dropped my briefcase. Before I could think twice about the rationality of my actions, I spun around, grabbed the man’s wrist, and flipped him over onto his back. I couldn’t deny the thrilling sense of release I felt at the physical exercise. No matter how much training, how much education…East London was still buried deep within me.

“Sir, it would be best,” for both of us, “if you went back to your dinner.”

We were drawing a crowd. Chair legs scratched against the deck as families turned to get a better look. Shite, attention wasn’t good at all. One of the first things we’d been taught was to blend in. One visit with Emma, and I’d lost sense of everything I’d been taught. I’d become that pathetic street sod once more, my education falling to the wayside.

“Do we have an understanding?” I growled, pressing my foot into his chest and keeping him pinned to the ground.

Sweat broke out just below the man’s receding hairline. I knew fear when I saw it. “Yeah, sure,” he grunted.

Disgusted with myself, the man, and the entire situation, I released my hold. He didn’t look back as he stumbled toward the restaurant, scurrying like a rat to garbage. Just as I’d thought, the man was a bully who, when pushed back, easily gave in. I’d dealt with plenty of bullies in my youth, before the Consulate had come for me. I’d even been one a time or two.

I sighed and swiped my hands on my trousers, as if that could erase the memory of a crappy childhood. Restless, I picked up my briefcase and started down the footpath that led toward the beach. My body didn’t seem my own, my thoughts annoyingly jumbled, my skin tingling with an awareness that hadn’t been there before I’d met Emma. Even if my rational mind refused to acknowledge her as my client, my body knew the truth. I was stuck with the chit.

“Owen, my boy.”

A human would have been startled by the old man’s sudden appearance, but I’d seen too many odd things to be startled by much. Jotham wore his typical green robe, which was inconspicuous enough where we resided, but ridiculous-looking here amongst the humans and their shorts and T-shirts.

Jotham seemed to neither notice nor care about the sudden attention. “Come, let us walk.”

I bit back my refusal. I didn’t want to walk; I wanted to go after Emma, force her to understand. Or maybe I wanted to return home and beg them for a new assignment. But I couldn’t because then I’d have to admit I’d left without permission. Of course it really wasn’t in their hands, but in the hands of fate.

And fate could have a wicked sense of humor.

We followed the footpath to a boardwalk that ran the length of the beach. Me in my suit, and Jotham in his long green robe. Yes, we looked insane. I completely understood why those along the beach were drawing their children closer. They most likely thought we were from some odd religious sect invented by humans to justify their existence.

“Well done, lad.” Jotham strolled unhurried down the boardwalk, his hands clasped behind him. “You’ve found her, and have taken care of the initial meeting.”

“She ran away.” I scoffed. “The woman refused to listen to reason.”

I couldn’t see the old man’s lips smiling through that thick white beard, but those faded blue eyes crinkled at the corners, looking suspiciously like amusement. “Well, that happens sometimes.”

Yeah, I’d find it humorous as well, if the client hadn’t been mine. “Happens? What if she doesn’t believe me?”

Frowning, I kicked at a rock. I’d never even contemplated the idea that she might not accept her fate. Yes, I assumed she’d be shocked, but surely she could tell she had powers…that she wasn’t normal. I could sense her abilities a continent away. And if I could, that meant other supernatural beings would soon as well.

“It doesn’t matter if she believes, the powers will come as they will. You must remember, Owen, humans tend to ignore any sense of magic in their lives. They don’t understand; it frightens them, and so they pretend it doesn’t exist.”

“Excellent plan,” I muttered sarcastically.

We paused, staring out over Lake Michigan. The sun sent rays of orange and pink across the cresting waves. Gulls hovered over the water, their cries peppering the air with a natural music. How could humans not believe in magic when it surrounded them? In the setting sun, in the bloom of the yellow flowers creeping across the sand, in the call of gulls above? The pulsing energy could be felt as easily as the wind. I certainly wasn’t a sentimental twit, but magic was as much a fact as the earth revolving around the sun.

“The happiness, anxiety, and hate they feel comes from a lack of understanding. They sense the magic but they don’t understand it, and the feelings frustrate them.” Jotham continued his pace, the boards underfoot creaking with our weight. “They think they’re sick, they think it’s anxiety without having a clue that what they’re really sensing is magic.”

A warm breeze swept across the water, stirring sand particles into the air, tiny crystals that hung suspended for the briefest of moments, shining and sparkling under the setting sun.

“And if we told them, we’d have another witch hunt,” I said. “There are too many nonbelievers. Too many who have yet to reach that level of acceptance.”

He nodded. “’Tis better this way…for now.”

I raked my fingers through my hair. “Perhaps, but not exactly helpful when I’m trying to explain to my client that she has powers.”

“Client?”

I flushed, rubbing the back of my neck. “Yes, we’ve been told it’s better to think of them as a client, rather than—”

“Human? A living being?”

There was no anger in his voice or on his expression, only mild curiosity. Jotham had lived too long to let his emotions get the better of him. But I knew him well enough to sense the judgment in his question.

“I understand you’re upset, but there have been too many Protectors ruined, heartbroken even, when their clients died. It’s better to remain aloof.”

“I see.” Jotham stroked his long beard, his attention on two children building a sand castle near the water’s edge. “Of course. We wouldn’t want to feel anything. That would be quite disastrous.”

I knew better than to respond. I, too, realized the ridiculousness of the rule. It could be bloody difficult to resist an attachment with one’s clients. I’d even grown to appreciate Emma’s aunt. Although I highly doubted I had to worry about becoming attached to Emma Watts.

Jotham patted me on the back in a companionable way. “Well then, your client awaits. She needs to know the truth and there’s no one better to tell her than you.”

I was the only person who could tell her what she was. With no alternative but to confront her, I drew energy from the rays of the setting sun. Yes, I had a feeling I’d need all the strength I could get. I’d sensed the hardness in Emma. A venerable steel wall wrapped around a damaged soul. As much as she annoyed me, she also intrigued me. Damn it all, why hadn’t Clarice mentioned her niece? At the very least, warned me.

“You haven’t told the others I’m here?”

“No. Not yet. I think it’s best we work in secrecy for now. If your instincts are correct, then the truth will cause an uproar.”

“Agreed. And I won’t give up on Emma.” As if I had any other choice. This was my job. A job fate had chosen for me years ago. An honored choice. Or so I’d been told repeatedly throughout my life. Now…I wasn’t so sure.

“Brilliant,” Jotham said. “I’m glad you’re not going to give up on the dear woman.”

Dear woman? That was taking things a bit far.

“I knew you wouldn’t because you’re a good man, Owen. But mostly I’m glad you’re not giving up on her because she’s being followed.”

I stiffened, my skin tingling with sudden warning. How had I not noticed before? Damn, but this was why we were supposed to control our feelings. Emotions got in the way. “What?”

Jotham stepped off the boardwalk and started across the car park toward an ice cream shop, his long robe sweeping back and forth over his slippered feet. “Your Ms. Emma Watts. I believe she’s being tracked at the moment. Would be best if you take care of any nastiness before she notices. Would hate to introduce her to our world in such a way.”

Shite, I thought I’d have time to at least explain things in a calm and rational manner. I should have had time. How did they know already? “What’s following her?”

“Demon, I believe,” Jotham said over his shoulder. “The earth spawn are always the first to know, after the Protector, of course. Good luck.”

“Bloody hell,” I whispered as I closed my eyes, concentrated, and disappeared.

********

If I were lucky, I could kill the demon and dispose of the body before Emma even realized she was in danger. More importantly, before the Consulate discovered I was gone. I reached out with my senses, finding her easily enough. The moment her aunt had died and the woman’s powers had transferred to her niece, my tracking system had kicked in, although I hadn’t told anyone but Jotham. Because we were fated to be together until she died, I’d always be able to find Emma. I hadn’t thought much about that before. Now, after meeting her, the thought of forever seemed awfully long.

The demon’s stench hit me as I materialized. Jotham had been correct, although I wasn’t surprised. He always seemed to know things others didn’t. I couldn’t spot the demon but I knew it was there, for the odor of rotting flesh permeated the area, and it had nothing to do with the fact that I was standing in a cemetery.

Emma weaved her way around tall obelisks and flat headstones that erupted from the brilliant green earth, without a clue of what was to come. Unwillingly, my gaze went to her, admiring the sway of her hips. An unwelcome heat stirred in my chest. Hell, as ridiculous as it seemed, my body was attracted to her. There was just something about the woman’s casual stroll, the way she exuded confidence, yet if one really looked into her eyes—those brilliant blue eyes—one could see the emotion there. Pain. Confusion. Sorrow. She was a puzzle, a mystery.

But I wasn’t a bloody psychologist who could help her sort out her issues. I was here to protect her, end of story. Determined to ignore my feelings, I started after my stubborn ward. I’d follow at a discreet distance until the demon decided to grace us with his presence. Hopefully I could destroy the monster before Emma noticed.

Large oaks and maples shaded the area from the setting sun and provided enough shadows for me to easily blend into the darkness. Extending my senses, I searched for the demon. Hell yes, definitely in the area.

Dinnertime. The town was quiet, the cemetery even more so. What sort of person cut through a graveyard when walking home? The woman had no common sense. Didn’t she realize that demons and other supernatural beings harnessed their strength in cemeteries, harvesting the lingering emotion humans left behind? Apparently she didn’t. She was completely clueless.

Fortunately, she had me. And I knew much, much more about her than she realized. I knew she owned no car and the vehicle she’d driven in her haste to escape had been her friend’s. I knew she lived in a converted loft with her sister in this small lakeside town, although her mother had moved to Florida. I knew she supported the family with the PI business. I knew her life was about to change drastically.

What I hadn’t known was she’d be so bloody stubborn, and, damn it all, so attractive. I wasn’t sure which annoyed me more. Her looks I could deal with, her stubbornness was another matter. Then again, what had I expected? For her to smile prettily up at me, pack her bags, and eagerly leave to start her new career?

She followed the dirt path as it curved around a mausoleum, the stained glass window of an angel staring down in judgmental censorship. How would she react when she knew the truth of my sudden appearance? I had a feeling it wouldn’t be good. I certainly didn’t look forward to that moment, but the sooner it happened, the better. I tore my gaze from Emma and searched the cemetery.

The demon was there, lurking in the shadows. I could sense the beast, the whispered warning swirling low in my body, building, flaring like alarm bells going off. Not surprising that the demon had found her so quickly. Their instincts were spot-on. But if the demon knew, that meant the others might find out as well.

Where was the bloody bastard?

Something shifted, morphing from the shadows behind the mausoleum. Emma sensed the demon as well, for she paused there on the path. The setting sun sent rays through the trees and highlighted her body with a heavenly glow. She started to turn. I stepped behind an oak, leaning against the rough bark. Emma was working with heightened instincts now that the powers had transferred. What would she do when confronted by the monster?

She scanned the small, secluded cemetery on a hill that overlooked the lake below. Perhaps her skin tingled. Maybe her stomach clenched as heat swept through her form. But, like most humans, she’d ignore the unsettling feeling. Much to my disappointment, she turned back around and continued down the small trail winding through Victorian headstones, dismissing her sixth sense. Fortunately for her, I was there to protect her back.

A Bubontic Demon, with the skill to seduce, suck you dry, and take over your body. Most women didn’t see it coming.

“Excuse me.” The demon stepped out of the shadows in all his brooding maleness. I rolled my eyes, disgusted. Dark and mysterious, they never failed to attract the attention of the female population.

Emma spun around, startled. “Yeah?”

He smiled a slow, sexy smile that annoyed me more than I wished. And like most females, she unwillingly stepped closer, drawn to the demon. Perhaps her instincts were warning her that something wasn’t right, but her attraction was obvious. She should have known better. I shifted, moving from tombstone to tombstone. The sun had set and the lights that lined the path threw eerie shadows across the marble headstones.

“I’m lost,” he explained in a French accent.

I frowned. The demons even knew which accent women liked best. The bastards were becoming more evolved every year.

Emma stuffed her hands into her pockets, looking oddly bemused, as if she wasn’t quite sure why she remained there, listening to this strange man.

“Come on, Emma,” I whispered. “Use your instincts.”

She merely tilted her head to the side. “Where you going?”

Hadn’t she been taught not to talk to strangers? Especially in secluded cemeteries at night? Next, the demon would be offering her candy. I knelt behind a tombstone, the damp grass soaking the knees of my trousers. A crow called from a branch above. Territorial birds, they didn’t appreciate the demon near their home.

“Red Brick Pub.”

“Oh.” She seemed to relax, hearing the familiar name of a local restaurant.

The demon had done his homework; they knew how to play the game. How the hell had he had time to research, let alone find her? With an arrogant grin, the beast stepped closer, knowing he had her in his grasp.

Surprisingly, she stepped back. A reluctant grin tugged at the corners of my mouth. So, her instincts were overriding her attraction.

“Can you tell me the way?” the demon asked.

Emma glanced toward Main Street, just visible through the iron fence. “Uh, yeah, sure. You just head out of the cemetery and go left. You’ll see it. A brick building.”

My fingers curled as I resisted the urge to interfere. This was Emma’s first test, and I wasn’t about to get involved…yet.

The demon stopped a few feet in front of her. Too close. “You’re quite lovely.”

She paused for a moment, as if trying to make sense of his words, or maybe make sense of her feelings. That near the demon, her instincts would be dulled. I made my way closer, the vegetation underfoot soft and supple with spring rain. I’d hold out until the last minute, but if she didn’t react quickly, I’d have to interfere.

“Seriously?” She released a sharp laugh. “You’re trying to pick me up in a cemetery? I don’t know what kind of women you have in your country, but I’m not interested.”

I felt a moment’s relief, until she turned her back to the demon. Dear God, even children knew you never turned your back to a monster. Her footsteps were quick as she started for the gate that would lead onto Main Street.

The demon smiled. They loved the chase; it fed their sick need. He rolled his shoulders, preparing to transform. There in the cemetery, the demon’s handsome face melted away to reveal gray, boiled skin. His broad shoulders hunched as his vertebrae bent at an odd angle. More animal than human, he leaned forward, preparing to lunge at her. He’d have her throat torn out within five seconds.

Unfortunately for the demon, he wouldn’t make it. I disappeared and reappeared in front of the monster, placing my body between Emma and him, hoping my ward was out of sight so I could kill the beast without her interference.

“Going somewhere?”

“Yes,” the demon said, curling his clawed hands. Gone was the French accent and in its place, a menacing growl. “But apparently I’ll be waylaid for a moment.”

The demon burst forward. I ducked, swiping my leg wide and hitting the thing in the shins. If he had shins; I really wasn’t sure about demon body parts. Still, it worked because the demon stumbled.

I straightened and shrugged off my jacket, placing it upon the top of a tombstone while the demon regained its balance. Before I turned, I pulled a small bottle from the pocket. “You do realize I’m going to have to kill you.” I rolled the cuffs of my sleeves, unveiling a dagger strapped to my left forearm.

The demon drew to its full height, impressive at eight feet tall. “You can try.”

I laughed and placed my glasses atop my jacket. “Try? My, such a big threat coming from so small a brain.”

“Say what you will, Protector, you’ll die just as easily as they all do.”

I glanced behind me, searching for Emma. The path lay empty. Good, but I still had to get rid of the demon before there was a witness. “We’ll see about that.”

The fine hairs on the back of my neck stood on end, a warning of what was to come. My only warning. In a blur of movement the demon burst forward, faster than I’d thought possible. I spun around, searching for the beast. Too late. The demon’s claws sliced through my left bicep, shredding the white dress shirt. Numbness swept from the wound up to my shoulder and down to my fingers, but I knew the symptom would only be temporary. A hiss escaped my gritted teeth as I grasped at my injured arm.

The sound of laughter and conversation permeated the evening air, seeping through the cemetery in warning. Innocents were coming. The demon chuckled, strolling in a wide circle around me, pausing behind. “More for me.”

Blood rolled down my forearm, dripping to the ground. Shite. I glanced toward the fence, seeing a small group of humans strolling down Main Street. I needed to get rid of the demon and fast. The numbness in my arm was giving way to a burning ache that pulsed through my veins, spreading through my body. Pretty soon it would be useless, and for the next hour or so I wouldn’t be able to fight, let alone move.

Breathing through clenched teeth, I ignored the pain and waited for the demon. The water wouldn’t kill the beast, but it would hurt him enough to slow him down and give me the time I needed to recoup. I felt the beast’s heated breath on the back of my head, stirring the hair, and resisted the urge to turn. He was waiting for the poison to make me useless. Sharp claws pierced my neck, more fiery poison seeping into my blood. My throat constricted over the burning pain.

This wasn’t going as I’d planned, but I’d never actually fought a Bubontic Demon, merely read about them. Grappling with the bottle, I pulled the cork loose with my teeth and tossed the holy water backward. The demon let out a scream that sounded enough like a cat in heat that it wouldn’t draw attention from passersby.

I snatched the dagger from the sheath attached to my forearm. My heart slammed wildly, urging me to do the deed. But this was the moment of truth, and I knew I couldn’t rush things.

Fortunately, every demon had a heart, a spot where they were most vulnerable. Unfortunately, every demon’s heart was located in a different area of his body. Fortunately, I had done my homework while training.

I spun around and shoved the dagger in the demon’s left side. Black liquid seeped from the wound and the giant beast began to shudder. Unsure if I should be thrilled or disgusted, I pulled the dagger free and wiped it clean upon the grass. The demon fell to the ground with a thud that shook the cemetery. A nearby stone cross toppled over. I felt the soft swoosh of the demon’s energy being sucked into the ground, back to Mother Nature. The demon grew still. The night went quiet once more.

“Well then, that wasn’t so difficult.” I slid the dagger back into the sheath, watching with a wary eye. It wasn’t my first demon kill, but there was something oddly satisfying about seeing the rotting body upon the ground. Perhaps I could protect Emma after all.

As my chest grew numb, I realized I had only moments to hide the demon and myself. The world spun around me as I struggled toward the monster, my legs like leaden weights. I grasped the demon’s arms, my fingers sinking into his rotting flesh, and dragged him toward the closest and oldest mausoleum, a perfect place to hide a monster from human eyes.

The rusty lock broke easily. My entire torso was numb. Time was running out. Sweat broke out across my forehead, my body trembled as it fought the demon poison. Using what little strength I had left, I pulled the demon inside and closed the doors, trapping us both. Only then did I give in to temptation and collapse to the floor.

An hour. I had an hour for the poison to work its way through my system, and then I’d be able to control my body again. Until then, I was forced to lie on the ground, my body frozen, the side of my face pressed to the cold marble floor, staring into the face of a rotting demon.

Just another typical Friday night.

Chapter 3

Emma

Thump. Thump. Thump.

The insistent pounding tapped at the edges of my semiconscious mind, tearing me from the comforts of slumber.

Thump. Thump. Thump.

For a moment, I thought our neighbor was doing construction. I lowered the duvet just enough to curse at him through the wall, when the thump sounded again. I frowned, clamping my mouth shut. Not construction. No such luck. Someone was knocking on the door. With a groan, I tossed aside my favorite childhood stuffed cat, rolled over, and glanced at the clock.

Eight a.m.

Who the heck would be at my door that early? I was so not a morning person, as anyone who was acquainted with me knew. The pounding sounded again.

“For God’s sake!” I shoved aside the cover and surged upright. The room spun, a dizzying swirl of objects and light, as if I were on a merry-go-round at a fair. Had I moved too quickly? Gotten too little sleep?

I groaned, squeezing my eyes shut and pressing my fingers to my temples. The huge floor-to-ceiling windows in our downtown apartment had been a bonus when Lizzie and I first moved here, but today I hated that obtrusive sun.

Crap, it was probably the flu. I recognized the symptoms well enough. Aches, dizziness, exhaustion. The room slowed its spinning and I tentatively slipped my feet into the fuzzy pink slippers Lizzie had gotten me for Christmas. I couldn’t afford to be sick. I didn’t have time.

Thump. Thump. Thump.

“I’m coming!”

I shuffled out of my bedroom and toward the door, intent on murdering whoever stood on the other side. I hadn’t felt this horrible since freshman year when I’d gone to my one and only high school party and had ended up completely wasted. That was the end of my drinking binge. But here I was…my brain fuzzy, my mouth dry, almost as if I were hungover. I hadn’t had an ounce of alcohol yesterday, had I?

Standing on tiptoe, I peered through the peephole into the face of a warped, hideous monster. So frightening, she could give children nightmares. She sure as heck had given me and Lizzie nightmares throughout our teenage years.

“I know you’re there, Emma. I can see your shadow under the door.”

I groaned, threw the deadbolt back, and opened the door. “Good morning, Grandmother.”

The woman swept by in her pink tweed suit that would no doubt get the thumbs-up of approval from the Queen of England. The overwhelming scent of Chanel lingered behind her. I waved my hand in front of my face and gagged. I’d hated that scent when I was a child because it reminded me of my mother’s scolding mom. Hated it even more now, for it reminded me of regret and disappointment. She was the antithesis of the warm and loving stereotypical grandma.

“Someone die?” Someone better be dead for her to interrupt my much-needed sleep.

“Very amusing, darling.”

I shut the door, glaring. “Coffee?”

What the heck did the woman want? She rarely visited, preferring we go to her townhome in Chicago instead. In the rare moments when Grandmother did visit, she made me painfully aware of yesterday’s clothes scattered across the floor, last night’s dishes in the tiny sink, and the overall quaintness of our apartment. Grandmother didn’t appreciate the history of the building, the scent of doughnuts cooking in the bakery below, the exposed brick walls, or the fact that at night I could use the fire escape to climb onto the roof and look out over the town and lake.

Grandmother settled on the edge of the sofa, her back ramrod straight, hands folded primly on her lap as if she feared catching a disease from the cushions. Funny thing was, when she’d been married to my Grandpa they hadn’t exactly had money, which was why I was positive she’d dumped him. She’d broken his heart. When he died, I’d sworn to keep his business going, the one thing he had left in his life after she left.

“You know I don’t drink coffee. I prefer tea, if you have any.”

I rolled my eyes. Since marrying William the Second, or “Junior,” as I loved to call him much to my grandmother’s horror, Grandmother had decided tea was more refined. “Is there a reason why you’re knocking on my door at eight in the morning?”

I poured water into a kettle and placed it on the stove. The old woman knew that in the summer I worked most evenings and nights. Something must have happened for the bat to drive up the coast this early.

“Actually, I’m here to inquire about your welfare.”

I glanced over my shoulder, shocked to say the least. “My welfare?”

Unless I’d gained weight, Grandmother was never concerned with my welfare. I scrubbed my hands through my hair and glanced down at my flat belly. No extra weight there. I didn’t have time to gain weight when I spent most of my day sprinting away from irate cheaters.

But as I met Grandmother’s eyes, I swore I saw genuine concern there. Ugh. It was way too early to have a caring conversation with the woman. I wasn’t at my best in the mornings, and one definitely needed to be at their best when confronting Grandmother. Maybe that’s why she’d arrived so early, to catch me when I was weak.

“Well, how are you feeling?” She followed that comment by looking me up and down with a critical eye. And the grandmother I knew was back in full swing. I wasn’t surprised when she frowned. It was her typical expression when she studied me. Grandmother didn’t appreciate my low-slung jeans and vintage T-shirts.

Crap, I hadn’t even changed last night, merely fell into bed after having been up until three in the morning going through photos and listening to the taped conversation I’d gotten before Owen Emerson had arrived. I frowned, just thinking about the annoying man.

“Emma?”

“I’m good, but apparently you don’t think so.”

Grandmother didn’t respond. Was she suddenly abiding by the “if you can’t say anything nice, don’t say anything at all” motto? That would be a first. I leaned over, using the stainless steel toaster as a mirror. My hair was something a squirrel might mistake for a nest and mascara smudges marked the area under my eyes. Lovely. I ran my fingers through the snarls. I’d always envied Lizzie’s sleek auburn hair.

“A bob would be nice.”

I shivered at the thought. Dear God, I’d look just like Grandmother. I might as well buy a closetful of tweed suits, and settle in for a life at the country club. The horror.

Grandmother lifted a perfectly drawn eyebrow. “Were you out drinking last night?”

“No, of course not. I don’t drink.” At least, I didn’t normally. The way this morning was going, I might have to rethink that idea. “Why do you ask?”

She waved dismissively. “Where’s your sister?”

I shrugged. “Running, or maybe volunteering at the animal shelter. No doubt doing something to make the world a better place.”

Grandmother sighed. “If you’d just apply yourself, darling…”

First Lizzie was telling me to start wearing makeup, and now Grandmother was telling me to apply myself? What did that even mean? I wouldn’t have been offended, but that guy Owen hadn’t even tried to cop a feel when I’d pulled his body to mine. Heck, maybe they were right.

Annoyed with myself for caring, I threw my hands in the air. “Okay, back to the reason for your wonderful visit.” I moved around the dining room table and kicked my clothes to the side, taking my frustration out on the mess.

“Can’t a grandmother visit her grandchild?”

“No, not when I need to sleep. I was working last night.”

“Work?” She gave a refined snort. She’d made it perfectly clear what she thought of our business. Grandmother had actually told the women at the country club that I was a freelance photographer. “If only your grandfather had gotten rid of that business years ago.”

“Well, we had to make a living somehow.” Not that I didn’t want to be a photographer. I’d tried photography, but the only job I could get was taking pictures of snot-nosed brats at the mall.

“You don’t have to make a living, you know that. You can always reside with me.”

When I didn’t respond but instead made myself busy, heading toward the refrigerator, she sighed.

“Fine.” Grandmother stood and smoothed down her skirt. “You obviously don’t want me here.”

I rolled my eyes. Grandmother had passive-aggressive down to a fine art. I felt way too shitty to deal with her crap. “I’m just not used to you visiting so early in the morning. You know I’m a night owl.”

The woman looked somewhat appeased and my unease lessened. Lord, I wished I could feel something toward the only relative who’d remained in our lives. Dad was long since dead, and I’d thought his family was, as well. Mom had moved to Florida with her new fling two months ago, and who knew if she’d ever return. Grandmother was my closest living relative. Instead of finding comfort in her proximity, I was uneasy, to say the least. It didn’t help that ten years ago she’d married some rich CEO and had practically left the family behind.

She settled back on the edge of the couch as if she meant to stay. It was my fault for being nice. I should have remained in bed. “Eight in the morning is not early for most people, Emma.”

People with real jobs. The words were left unsaid, but might as well have been spoken aloud. I knew Grandmother wasn’t here to reprimand me for my late nights, or a job she deemed ridiculous. I leaned against the counter and waited. Something else was coming, I could sense it. The air practically vibrated with unease.

“So,” I started. “What’s up?”

“What’s up? Is that what your online education has taught you?”

I smiled tightly. Grandmother had promised to send us to private school if we’d live with her. As if that were some sort of incentive. Instead, I’d started at an online public school last year in order to run the business and continue my education.

“Grandmother,” I drawled out.

She glanced at her perfectly manicured fingernails, dragging out the visit until I thought I’d go insane. Finally, she looked up. “Well, there is one thing.”

“Really? Shocking,” I muttered under my breath as I pulled out a box of breakfast tea from the cupboard above the sink.

“Excuse me?”

I plastered a smile upon my face and glanced back. “Nothing. What is it?”

“Your Aunt Clarice has died.”

Startled, I dropped the tea, the bags scattering across the floor. “Aunt Clarice?” I looked at Grandmother, the tea forgotten on the wooden floorboards, but I could read nothing in the old woman’s face thanks to her monthly Botox injections. “I’m…sorry?”

“Of course you should be sorry. She was your aunt.”

I knelt to scoop up the bags and stuff them back into the box. “You knew her?” I frowned. “I don’t remember meeting her.”

The teapot whistled, startling me once more. With shaking hands, I took it off the stove and poured steaming water into two coffee mugs. What the heck was going on? Who was this aunt and why was she so important?

“You never did meet her,” Grandmother explained.

“Okay.” I paused, holding the teapot aloft. First Owen and his dire warnings about death and Aunt Clarice, and now Grandmother? What weren’t they telling me? And there was no doubt something odd was going on; Grandmother wouldn’t be here otherwise.

“So then, who was she? Why is she so important?”

Grandmother shrugged, looking disgruntled and a little confused herself. “She’s not important, I suppose.” She was quiet for one long moment as I placed a bag of tea in each mug. “So, are you all right then?”

“Of course. I barely knew her.” I strolled across the living room and handed Grandmother a cup. She wrapped her pale hands around the mug. She might be able to smooth the wrinkles from her face, but the thin skin of her hands showed her true age. The old woman stirred her tea over and over again, but didn’t actually drink. It was the first time I’d seen Grandmother so contemplative. Usually she knew exactly what she was going to say and had no reservations about giving her opinion.

Confused and more than a little leery, I said, “There was a guy here, though, yesterday. An Owen Emerson.”

Grandmother jumped, the surprise visible as her hazel gaze pierced me with an unwavering determination. “What? Who? What’d he say?”

I slowly settled in the chair across from her, slightly nervous. Grandmother was like a wild animal and you never knew when she would attack. “He claimed that Aunt Clarice left me something.”

All color drained from her face, leaving her so white, her Protestant forefathers would have been proud. The mug tilted from her hands. I dove forward, catching it before it dropped to the ground. “Grandmother, are you all right?”

“Did he say what she left you?” She spoke so softly, I had to strain to hear her.

I set the mugs down. “No. I told him I didn’t want it.” I started to stand, thinking perhaps I should call someone…her doctor, Junior, anyone. But before I could reach for the phone, Grandmother took my hands, her soft fingers cold.

“Stay away from him, Emma. You understand?” Her hazel eyes were direct and sincere, yet at the same time there was real fear lurking in their depths. I’d never seen Grandmother afraid. No, the world feared her, not the other way around.

The situation had truly taken a turn for the bizarre. “If you tell me why.”

The woman dropped her hold, the hardness in her gaze returning. She’d never liked being ordered about. “Because…they had nothing to do with you. It would be disrespectful toward our family.”

“Okay,” I drawled out. Why did I have the feeling there was more Grandmother wasn’t telling me? Things Owen hadn’t admitted? I’d had way too much drama in my young life; I didn’t need more.

“And because they’re insane.” The old woman stood. Ha, insane? As if she and Mom weren’t? “You’re coming to visit me this weekend.”

“But, Grandmother—”

“Pack. Call your sister and tell her to pack too.” She lifted her Coach purse. “I’ll be back in a while to pick you up. I have some shopping to do.”

Shopping? Right. Grandmother had complained more than once about the lack of quality merchandise in our town. In a swirl of Chanel, the woman left the apartment. Like a tornado, she was gone as quickly as she’d arrived, leaving destruction in her wake.

I snorted in amusement and disgust. She expected us to be ready and waiting when she returned. But I had never done what Grandmother demanded, and I wasn’t about to start now.

********

The bell overhead tinkled a manic greeting as I pushed the door wide and moved into the Perky Bean. The aroma of freshly brewed coffee soothed my agitated soul. Grandmother was normally odd, but this morning took the cake. No way was I going to stay with the old bat. We wouldn’t last an hour without trying to kill each other.

“Yo, Flo, how’s it go?” Jerry swept past me, his bongos on his back, a cup of coffee in his hands. His mellow personality certainly wasn’t from the coffee.

“Hey, Jerry, how’s it going?” I wasn’t sure what his real name was, but I’d started calling him Jerry because of his love for tie-dye, and the name had stuck. He didn’t seem to mind. But then again, nothing seemed to bother him. I wished I could be so at ease. Maybe I needed a big cup of whatever he was drinking.

He stroked his long gray beard. “Good, good.”

I moved into the shop where patrons were eagerly waiting in line, their nervously tapping feet giving away their need for a coffee high. Jerry was just one of the many flavorful locals who made this town of misfits a place where Lizzie and I belonged.

This early in the morning, the line was long. How I loved the fact that I had no crappy job, no real schedule. Everyone pulsed with a frantic need to go, annoyed with work, with life. Fortunately for me, I could just sit back and observe the hectic pace.

“Emma!”

The sound of the familiar voice sent my heart pumping into overdrive. A wide smile spread across my face. I had a love-hate relationship with men. Most of them I hated, but this man—with his dark hair and black eyes—this man I definitely could love. Just like that, the morning suddenly seemed brighter.

“You’re here early.” He paused next to me, the spicy scent of his aftershave intoxicating.

“Hey, Tony.” I left the line, weaving my way around tables and chairs to meet the café manager in the middle of the room.

He gave me that sexy smile, a dimple flashing in his left cheek. “Got your drink and Danish.” He held up the coffee cup and a white bag.

I sighed, pressing my hand to my heart. “God, what would I do without you?”

He rested his hand on the small of my back. The man was the definition of Latin sexiness. “Go into a coma from lack of caffeine?”

I nodded seriously. “Yes, probably.”

He laughed again. “Have time to chat?”

Heck, yeah! “Sure.”

We settled at the corner table that had become our regular spot. I looked forward to these brief moments, and on the days when he was too busy to chat, I cursed the customers. The rising sun pierced the tinted windows and glinted off his dark hair. That tanned skin, those dark eyes… It was all I could do not to launch myself at him. We’d been flirting for weeks and I wasn’t a patient person. Would he ever ask me out?

Maybe he already had a girlfriend. I wouldn’t have been surprised. Tony was everything a woman would want. Tall, built, and gorgeous. And most importantly, he owned a coffee shop. It’s not like we’d be together forever, but while our relationship lasted, I’d get free coffee. What more could a girl ask for? If he didn’t ask me out soon, I’d bite the bullet and do the asking.

He leaned back in his chair, stretching his long legs. “How was your weekend?”

“Great, great. Lots of fun.” If one found hiding behind bushes and running for your life fun. Tony had no idea what I really did for a living. I’d told him I worked for my family business, but men got weird around me when I admitted I spied on their gender. “Yep, lots of fun, lots of friends.”

I resisted the urge to cringe. Nothing like trying too hard.

He smiled, flashing perfectly straight, perfectly white teeth. “Well, great.”

“And you?”

“Yeah, I’d say I have lots of friends.”

“No.” I laughed. My last boyfriend had loved my laugh. He said it made him want to laugh too. Unfortunately, he also loved women…lots and lots of women. Yep, I’d dated a cheater. The irony wasn’t lost on me. “Did you have a good weekend?”

He nodded. “Yeah, rather low key, but nice.”

The door opened, the bell overhead ringing.

Tony frowned. “He’s new.”

I turned, following his gaze. There, in the doorway, stood a man I never expected to see again. “Owen,” I whispered so low he couldn’t have possibly heard me, yet he looked my way.

He tilted his head in acknowledgment but didn’t start toward me. Instead, he merely settled patiently at the back of the line, waiting his turn, that briefcase in hand. He didn’t fidget, he didn’t check his iPhone as most people were doing. He merely stood there, eyes ahead, back straight. Who the heck was he and why was he stalking me?

“So, I’m having a little gathering at my place Saturday,” Tony explained.

Reluctantly, I pulled my gaze from Owen. Dang it all, I couldn’t concentrate on Tony with Owen standing not ten feet from me. “Great, a gathering. Can you hold that thought for a moment?”

Not waiting for his response, I jumped from my chair and weaved through the crowd. Dang, but he smelled just as good as before. Maybe better. “What are you doing here?”

Startled, Owen glanced down at me. “Good morning.”

Was he seriously pretending to be surprised? “Don’t good morning me,” I hissed. The woman in front of us glanced back curiously. Nosy witch. I inched closer to Owen. “What the heck are you doing here?”

He shrugged, wearing another suit that fit him to perfection. This one was dark, matching his black hair. So incredibly different from Tony. Whereas the café manager was relaxed in his jeans and T-shirt, Owen was all business seriousness. “I’m getting tea.”

I crossed my arms over my chest and glared up at him. “Of course you’re getting tea.”

He moved up with the line. “Is there a problem with that?”

I scurried after him. “I find it odd that you just so happen to enter the café that I frequent.”

He shrugged. “As I had papers to give you, I checked into the B&B just across the street. This is the closest café.”

It sounded reasonable. I wasn’t buying it. “What do you want from me?”

He moved up a few more steps. “I thought I’d made myself quite clear. I’m here to deliver the papers that state your aunt’s possessions now belong to you.”

I glanced back. Tony was watching us curiously. I could only hope that was jealousy in his eyes. “Her possessions? Such as?”

“A small cottage in France.”

I jerked my gaze back to Owen, Tony all but forgotten. “France?” Unwillingly, my interest piqued. How often had I dreamt of visiting Europe? But I didn’t want to be interested. Taxes would probably be ridiculous. I didn’t know a word of French. Not to mention I was only seventeen, could I even legally own anything? The loft and business were in Mom’s name.

“But that’s not important,” Owen said, interrupting my thoughts.

“Right.” I flushed, feeling somewhat greedy for my interest. “What is then?”

His gaze was so serious, as if the very weight of the world rested on his broad shoulders. Was he always this solemn? Did he ever relax, go wild? “We need to talk, Ms. Watts.”

“Your tea, sir.” The man behind the counter handed Owen a cup.

“Thank you.” He nodded his appreciation.

As I waited for him to continue with our line of conversation, he turned and left me standing there, apparently finished. I frowned, annoyed. So glad we could have a clear and not at all confusing conversation once again.

“Where are you going?” I called out a little too loudly, I realized, as patrons glanced our way.

Owen didn’t bother to turn toward me, but said over his shoulder, “To sit, if that’s all right with you.”

I started after him, catching up as he settled at an empty table near the windows. “What about the papers? You said I had documents.”

He picked up a forgotten newspaper. “I thought you didn’t want anything from your aunt?”

So, that’s how he was going to play it? I gritted my teeth, resisting the urge to slap the paper from his hands. “Don’t be difficult, Owen.”

He glanced up at me and smiled as if having the time of his life. It was disarming to see that grin. Even more disarming was the odd warmth that swept through my body at the sight of his crooked smile. “You remembered my name. I’m honored.”

I flattened my hands on the tabletop, leaning toward him. “What are you doing here? What do you want from me?”

He settled back in his chair and crossed his arms over his chest. The movement tightened his jacket across his broad shoulders, and I was painfully reminded of how muscled he was.

“I’m done playing your games,” he said. “Instead, I’ve decided to sit back and wait. I’m very patient, you see.” There was an arrogant confidence to him that surprised me, confused me, when I thought I’d had him pegged.

“What the heck does that mean?”

“You’ll understand soon enough.” He lifted the newspaper, scanning the articles and dismissing me altogether. Thoroughly intimidated, I stepped back. What sort of teenage guy read the newspaper, anyway?

Done playing games? Ha. He was obviously a master at game playing. Well, I wasn’t about to fall for his trap. Reluctantly, I moved back to my table, feigning indifference.

“So, you dating that guy?” Tony asked.

“No!” I practically yelled. “No, not at all.”

He grinned. “Sorry, looked like a lover’s spat.”

I had to resist the urge to roll my eyes. “No, just business.” I reached for my cup, playing with the cardboard sleeve and doing my best to ignore Owen’s presence. “Anyway, you were saying something about a party?”

He raked his hands through his dark hair, leaving it endearingly tousled. “Oh, right. Saturday. You should stop by.”

A thrill of success shot through me. I smiled, batting my lashes as I’d seen Lizzie do. “Sure, yeah. Just tell me when and where.”

I should have been thrilled, and I was, but I couldn’t help but think of Owen sitting directly behind me. Tony grabbed a napkin and pulled a pen from his back pocket. “We’ll barbeque. Not too many people. Should be fun.” He scribbled his address on the napkin. As if I didn’t already know where he lived. Please, it was the one great thing about being a PI, knowing everything there was to know about anyone. Except Owen. I knew so little about the man and had been unable to find any information on the web.

Tony slid the napkin toward me. Overly eager to get the address and get out of there, I reached for it a little too quickly. Our fingertips brushed. Electricity jolted through my body as if I’d put my hand on a live wire. The café went dark, silent, and for a few seconds I merely floated in oblivion.

Just as suddenly, the darkness disappeared and color burst to life, blinding in its detail. The colors took form and I was no longer in the café, but an apartment. Not a place I knew. Slowly, numbly, I turned, searching for answers. Tony was seated on a couch, holding a bottle of wine. I started toward him, only to pull up short. He wasn’t alone.

“More wine?” he asked some woman beside him.

I stepped closer, narrowing my eyes. She seemed familiar in some way…

Paula.

A woman who lived in my building.

“No more.” Paula smiled, settling with ease against the pillows, as if she belonged there in his apartment. “Only one thing I want. You.”

Tony placed the wine on the side table and inched closer to Paula. “Then you’ve got it.”

He cupped the side of her face and their lips met in a passionate kiss.

“No!” I cried out. “No!”

Before I could reach them, the room went dark and I floated once more. Where the heck was I?

Hello?

No one answered. It was a weird hallucination. Or maybe I was still at my apartment, dreaming. For a moment I thought maybe I’d died. Then I heard a voice…someone calling me.

“Emma, Emma!” the voice said, insisting I return to reality, but I wasn’t sure. It was like I was drowning in a black ocean with no idea where the surface was located.

“Step back. I’ve got water.”

Tony. My body grew heavy and warm as if I were slowly sinking into mud. A heavy, dark, horrible mud.

“Emma?” Not Tony…an English accent.

Suddenly I was aware of the cold, hard floor beneath my back. The terrible ache of my body, the piercing pain in my skull. Murmured words whispered around me, frantic and worried conversation.

“Should I call 911?” someone asked.

Were they talking about me?

“No, wait,” Owen said.

Wait for what, I wanted to ask, but a second later cold water hit my face.

Reality came crashing down. I jerked upright, sputtering. A variety of faces stared down at me. “What the hell?”

“Sorry.” Tony was kneeling beside me, an empty cup in hand. “I thought it might help.”

“I—I’m fine.” I shoved my hands onto the cold floor and stumbled to my feet. The room and people around me wavered in and out of focus. Owen stood behind the crowd, his face all serious planes once more. I’d expected to see some sort of gloating in his eyes, not worry. I tore my attention from him, confused.

“You okay?” someone asked.

I started to nod, but the movement made my head ache. With a groan, I pressed my fingers to my temples. What the heck had just happened?

Tony stepped closer, slipping his arm around my waist. Instead of welcoming his warmth, his touch felt weird, off, wrong. I shrugged him away. But my legs were wobbly, and the room still spun. Faces blurred around me, all pushing closer, too close. My lungs shrank, my breath growing shallow.

“Emma?” Owen shoved his way through the crowd.

I shook my head, stumbling back. I didn’t want him to touch me; I didn’t want anyone to touch me. “No, I’m fine.”

But I wasn’t fine. Far from it. My knees buckled and the floor came rushing upward. Suddenly, Owen was next to me. I felt his strong arms wrap around my waist just as my eyes rolled back and the world went dark once more.

Chapter 4

Owen

She wasn’t moving.

She should be moving.

I shrugged the jacket from my shoulders and tossed the garment to the sofa. For a moment, I merely stared at her, as if I could will Emma to open her damn eyes. Hell, I’d take her biting sarcasm and offensive indifference.

But she remained stubbornly still, her eyes firmly shut. With a sigh, I tapped my foot, needing to do something, anything. I’d studied, I’d read, I’d heard stories about what would happen when powers were transferred, but I’d never experienced it, and I sure as hell never expected this. Should she be this pale? This still?

I hesitated a moment, then knelt beside her and rested the back of my hand to her cheek. Cool to the touch, smooth as marble and just as white. Even ill she was pretty, really pretty. And I couldn’t deny the woman was interesting. No, she was stunning when she had that mischievous sparkle in her eyes. I picked up a well-loved stuffed gray cat from the sofa. It was hers; I could smell her on the material. When she laughed…shite, the sound was like heated, pulsing music that swept through me in a way I’d never expected. I couldn’t control my own reaction.

And that worried me.

I tossed the cat back to the sofa and stood, only to pace in front of her. Back, forth, until the floorboards underfoot creaked unnaturally loud in the silent building, everyone else most likely at work. Surely, I was overreacting. She was okay. I would sense it if anything were wrong. Wouldn’t I?

Hell if I knew. I’d never had any problems with Clarice. She’d been the ideal client. Then again, for her I’d been more of a bodyguard than teacher. Clarice had been born knowing what she was. She’d taught me more than I’d taught her.

I paused and gazed around the small flat, attempting to get a better feel for the woman I was fated to be with. Her apartment was interesting, if not exactly neat. Photographs hung on the walls: a landscape, the close-up of a shell, her sister. All in black and white, all lovely in some ethereal way. No photos of men cheating. No indication of the stubborn woman who had taken the pictures. She was talented. Too bad once she accepted her new position in life, she wouldn’t have time for the arts.

I rubbed the back of my neck and paced once more. Where was Jotham when I needed him? I hadn’t expected this…this woman who cursed like a sailor, who hid in vegetation, who thrived on breaking up marriages. I released a wry laugh and scrubbed my hands over my face. No. Nothing had prepared me for Emma Watts. Yet here I was, and here I would be, by her side for the rest of her life, whether she wanted me or not.

A soft moan escaped her lips. Relief made my knees weak, yet indecision held me captive. Should I go to her? Most likely she’d find my intrusion annoying. Perhaps instead I should get her some water. No, tea. Yes, tea; tea was always good.

In three quick strides I reached the small kitchen. As I searched the cupboards, I was all too aware that everything had come down to this moment. There was no going back now. She was mine. I pushed aside dirty dishes that threatened to tumble over, until I found a stainless steel kettle.

“Oh God,” she muttered, her voice raspy. “What happened?”

“You fainted.” I turned just in time to see her bolt upright, that long blonde hair falling in silky waves around her pale face.

The shock in her blue eyes gave way to fury. “How the heck did you get into my apartment?”

That was appreciation for you. “I carried you here.” She just stared at me as if she hadn’t a clue what I was talking about. I had a feeling the hysterics were about to arrive. “After you fainted. A nice thank-you would do.”

She jumped to her feet, stumbling back and putting the coffee table between us, as if that could protect her. Hell, she needed training, and fast. “Oh God.” She shook her head in denial. “I fainted. I’ve never fainted.”

I found it amusing that she was more horrified by the fact that she fainted, than the fact that a strange man was in her apartment. It was certainly telling. Emma Watts hated weakness. “It’s perfectly natural, given the circumstances.” I found two cups that seemed somewhat clean. Matchmakers were supposed to be old and annoyingly serene. Not…not her. Not young, not hot, not exciting and stubborn.

She laughed, a manic laugh that worried me. I’d heard that sort of laugh…right before someone was committed. “Perfectly natural?”

The teakettle gave off a shrill whistle.

“It’s not perfectly natural for me to faint and it’s not perfectly natural for you to just…just…” She waved her hands around like a crazed hen, flapping her wings. “Not natural for you to be here!”

Taking the moment to gather myself, I poured water into two cups. I was in charge here, at least I was supposed to be, yet I felt like a damn novice. I steeled myself and faced her. “Have some tea?”

“I don’t want tea!” She stomped her foot. It was pretty damn funny, actually. Any other time I might have laughed. I knew better than to react now.

“Would you prefer coffee?”

“No! I’d prefer answers.”

We had so many things we needed to discuss, yet all I could think about was that there was something entirely too amusing about getting her riled up. What the hell was wrong with me?

I set her cup on the small bit of counter that wasn’t cluttered with dishes. “I was perfectly willing to give you answers yesterday, when you rudely ran away.”

“I was being chased by an angry man. What did you expect?”

Not her. I certainly hadn’t expected a woman like Emma. And I sure as hell didn’t expect to be attracted to her. I glanced toward the heavens, cursing the gods. Was this some sort of test in which I had to prove my worth?

If it was, I was failing fast. I couldn’t look her in the eyes without losing my train of thought. Couldn’t sleep last night without dreaming about her. This wasn’t good, wasn’t good at all.

“Owen, I want answers now.”

So did I. I sighed and turned to face her. “It’s true your aunt left you her possessions.”

She crossed her arms over her chest, looking leery and confused. She didn’t trust me and that sure as hell wasn’t a great way to start our relationship. “Yeah, the cottage, you told me.”

I nodded. “Her worldly possessions are yours. Which, besides the cottage, isn’t much.”

“Okay, wonderful.” She moved into the kitchen, brushing by me. We didn’t touch, but I felt her energy all the same. “Where’s the aspirin?”

“Does your head hurt?”

“Yes, it hurts.” She rummaged through a kitchen drawer. “Been hurting for two days now. I don’t get headaches often. It’s…odd.”

They’d said a new Matchmaker’s body would need time to adjust to her abilities, but hadn’t gone into detail about what her symptoms would be. Clarice’s death had been a shock and I hadn’t fully had time to prepare for my new charge. It was a disservice to Emma, and I felt guilty as hell.

She found the bottle and turned toward me. “So, are there papers I need to sign, or what?”

I shifted, uneasy. Time for the truth, the complete and utter truth. “Um, no. The cottage isn’t important.”

She focused on the bottle, tugging at the lid. “Damn thing.” She glanced up briefly. “What is important then?”

I sighed and strolled toward her, stopping so close I could feel her body’s heat. Yet she wasn’t intimidated by my size or presence. The girl wasn’t intimidated by anything and I couldn’t help but admire her strength. It also worried me. A good dose of fear was healthy.

“Here.” I held out my hand.

She paused, her stubbornness in full force. Yes, she hated handing over her power, even if it was for something as simple as opening a bottle. Her reluctance to accept my help didn’t bode well for our relationship.

Finally she settled the bottle on my palm. Still she didn’t step back; she wouldn’t give an inch, and her warm vanilla scent was completely distracting. Of course she wouldn’t retreat, but neither would I. How the bloody hell was I going to work with her?

Perhaps once I had time to adjust to the fact that she was about my age, and attractive, my emotions would subside and I’d be able to keep a professional distance while protecting her. I dropped two aspirin into her palm. She watched me warily as she swallowed the medicine.

“What is important is what happened in that café.”

“The fact that I fainted?” She rolled her eyes. “Wonderful, yeah, let’s dwell on that. As if it’s not completely embarrassing.”

She started past me. I reached out, grasping her upper arm. She froze, seemingly startled by my touch. Did she feel the connection? The heat? I sure as hell did and I wasn’t completely sure it was normal. “It might happen again.”

She tilted her head and our gazes clashed. For a moment, neither of us said a word. The unmistakable sensation of electricity pulsed between us. I wanted to blame it on the connection between Matchmaker and Protector, but I’d never felt this way with Clarice.

“And how would you know that?” she asked, her voice husky.

I released my hold, but my palm still burned with the feeling of her. “You need to sit.”

She crossed her arms over her chest. “I’d rather not.”

I resisted the urge to curse. The woman was completely impossible. “Your aunt was special, Ms. Watts.”

Her brows snapped together. “Special? When Grandmother caught the gardener eating the roses, she called him special too.”

“No, not that. She was…she had…she could—” Bloody hell, how did one explain? I paced away from her, attempting to grasp hold of a rational thought, any thought. I’d practiced this conversation so many times in my head, but never had I been this flustered. “Your aunt was revered by certain people, for she had the uncanny ability to match soul mates.”

There. It was said. I turned to read her expression. Her reaction was completely anticlimactic. She actually looked bored by it all. Had she not heard me?

Slowly, she shook her head. “Soul mates?”

I nodded.

She laughed.

I frowned. “I’m serious.”

She paused, amusement turning into disbelief and confusion. “Soul mates? You mean she had some sort of dating service?”

“No. She could match soul mates. Just as I said.”

She strolled to the large windows, still shaking her head in obvious disbelief. “Mr. Emerson, you can’t possibly tell me you believe not only in soul mates, but that my aunt could match men and women to theirs?”

Hell, it wasn’t a very manly thing to admit, but I wasn’t ashamed for it was the truth. “Yes, I do.”

She stared at me as if I’d just told her Father Christmas was real and we had tea and biscuits together every day at three. “Are you joking, or are you just being overly romantic because you’re on your period?”

I gritted my teeth, attempting to keep my patience in check. She was the most frustrating person I’d ever met. A man could take only so much. Slowly, I walked toward her. She must have sensed my anger for she took a step back, although I wasn’t sure if she even realized it. Watching me warily, she rested against the large windows. I leaned forward, setting my palms on either side of her head, trapping her between my arms.

“Those people there below.” I nodded toward Main Street, where a variety of men and women strolled the lane, most looking lost and frantic. “Every one of them has a soul mate, Ms. Watts. They are either too blinded by their own problems to see their match, or they haven’t met him or her yet.”

“And my aunt was good at matching people?”

Her breath was warm and distracting across my neck. “Not good, perfect. She was never wrong. It was a gift, Ms. Watts. A gift you now possess.”

She narrowed her eyes, angry with me. Angry because deep down, she knew perhaps I might be right, and like most humans, she didn’t want to believe in magic. “Oh really? And what if I don’t believe in soul mates?”

“Surely you believe in love?”

She shoved her hands against my chest, pushing me back just enough to slip under my arm. “Yes, I believe in love. Love between family members. But love between significant others is a love that comes quickly and always fades. Always.”

Trembling, her emotions and her past were getting the better of her. Did she even realize how lost she looked? “You don’t have to believe. It doesn’t matter to your powers.”

She laughed. “Powers? What, I’m a superhero now? Just give me my cape and mask, and I’ll be ready to go. Or do I get a bow and arrow like Cupid?”

Denial, anger, mockery. I expected them all when dealing with newbies. “If that’s the way you wish to think of it. When your aunt died, her powers went to the next relative. That would be you.”

She was smiling, her eyes even crinkled at the corners in mirth, but that gaze showed her true feelings. She was nervous. “Okay. So then why don’t I feel any different?”

I slipped my hands into my pockets and forced myself to stroll slowly toward her when in reality I wanted to shake some sense into her gorgeous head. “But you do, don’t you?”

The anger flashed once more, and I knew it was because I was getting too close to the truth. Score one for me. “No, no. Of course not.”

“That fuzzy feeling, that headache.”

She shook her head. “I need more sleep.”

“Fainting at the café?”

She shrugged. “Too much caffeine.”

Hell, she was stubborn. But I wouldn’t give up; I had no choice but to continue my assault. It was for her own damn good. So I merely stared at her, my hard gaze unrelenting.

“Ms. Watts, may I ask you something?”

“Why not? Go ahead.”

“What did you see when you fainted?”

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.

Chapter 5

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.

He crossed his arms over his chest. “Now do you believe me?”

Anger overtook my shock. I shoved my hands against his chest, sending him back a step. “Who the hell are you? Why are you here?”

“I’m here for you, Emma.”

It was all too much. I narrowed my eyes, instantly suspicious. The last person who had supposedly been there for me was my grandmother. What a crock that had been. She hadn’t been there for me. No, she’d wanted Lizzie and me in some last-ditch effort to have the daughter she’d always craved. There was no doubt in my mind this man had an agenda. But what?

“Really?” I laughed. “In what way are you here for me? Please, do tell.”

“I’m a Protector, of sorts.” He rubbed the back of his neck, as if unsure how to proceed. “It’s my job.”

In other words, he was here because he had to be. Although some girls might have been offended, I found his response comforting. Emotions I didn’t trust, but duty I understood. Slowly, my gaze dropped to those polished dress shoes, then up his perfectly pressed trousers to the vest and dress shirt, to his clean-shaven face and spotless glasses. He was my Protector? Demons were real and he had killed one? I laughed. In hindsight, I supposed that wasn’t exactly the kindest reaction.

His face grew taut. “Glad you find it amusing.”

“Come on, Owen, how are you going to protect me?”

He was silent for one long moment, his jaw clenched so hard a vein throbbed in the side of his face. I’d gone too far. Men and their whiny egos. I shouldn’t have laughed. Heck, I was always putting my foot in my mouth. I started for the doors, eager to escape the scent of death, eager to escape the thing in the coffin, but mostly eager to escape Owen’s hard gaze.

Owen stepped in front of me, blocking my exit. I paused in indecision. Taunting and fighting didn’t work. Perhaps I’d try something new and be polite to the man. “Listen, I didn’t mean to offend…”

I casually reached for the door. He slapped his hand on the metal panel, keeping it closed. “My name is Owen Emerson, and I am your Protector. It is my job to protect you. You are a Matchmaker. You match soul mates.”

“Owen,” I said, trying to keep my voice calm. Why couldn’t he just give up? Didn’t he understand I didn’t want him here? I didn’t want any of this! “Listen to reason.”

Completely ignoring me, he rolled those white sleeves up his arms, showing muscled forearms covered in tattoos of some sort of Celtic design. Muscles and tattoos? The guy had gone from attractive to intriguing. Not that I hadn’t seen tattoos in my line of work. But tattoos on this straitlaced guy were shocking…in a good way.

He lifted his arm and looked at the doors. “Aperire.”

The doors to the vault flew open, banging against the outside walls. Sunlight burst into the small building, a blinding reality. My mouth dropped open. A flock of blackbirds burst from the ground and took flight, squawking their protests. Somehow he had just opened the doors without touching them.

Slowly, I slid him a glance.

“You’re not the only one with powers, Emma.”

Feeling light-headed and overwhelmed, I moved past him and into the fresh air. Was it my supposed powers making me dizzy? Perhaps the smell of the rotting demon? But no, I knew the truth. Owen was the one who made my heart race, my pulse pound, my head spin.

“And I am here for you,” he said, following me outside. “I was born to protect you.”

Born to protect me? Was he being romantic, dramatic, or just honest? I frowned, unsure how to feel, how to react. When was the last time anyone had cared about protecting me? I’d always been the one to protect others. About freaking time, my mind whispered.

“I don’t need you,” I snapped, hating my moment of weakness. I had to remind myself that I was no girly-girl; I didn’t need anyone. The moment you relied on someone was the moment they betrayed you.

“Whether you want me or not, I’m not going anywhere, Emma.”

I almost laughed. Oh, I wanted him, all right. And that was the problem. I spun around and started down the steps. “I don’t need you to protect me. Don’t you understand that?”

He was following; I could sense him. My body responded as if we truly were connected on some level I didn’t understand. I didn’t want him to follow me, and I sure as heck didn’t want to be connected in any way.

But even as I tried to flee, I couldn’t escape the many questions rushing through my mind. In the middle of the cemetery, I spun around, facing him. “Even if what you say is possible, even if I have the power to match soul mates, why would I need protection from that?”

He shoved his arms through the sleeves of his jacket. “Because some people seem to think you’re important. Try to push me away all you want, Ms. Watts, but I’m not going anywhere.”

Chapter 6

Owen

I didn’t sleep. But then, I didn’t really need to. Yeah, I could rest, shut down my mind and body if I wanted, almost like a deep meditation. But tonight…tonight I couldn’t even close my eyes, and all because one Emma Watts immediately came to mind.

I hadn’t planned to show her the demon, and I sure as bloody hell hadn’t meant to show her my powers this soon into the game. But I couldn’t seem to think rationally when she was close. She made me act in a way that sent my normal intentions spiraling out of control.

And I never lost control.

But then I’d never had a client like her, and I doubted the Consulate had either. Emma’s aunt Clarice had been accepting. Like most of us, she’d known what to do with her powers, understood her part in this life. She’d respected our world, not mocked it as Emma did.

Even I had accepted my fate with open arms, but considering my childhood, why wouldn’t I? I’d spent the last decade training with one goal and one goal only in mind…protect the Matchmaker. Protect her from everything that lurked in the dark, and make sure she lived as long as possible. But I was pretty sure I had failed Clarice. I would not fail Emma.

I paced the living room, agitated, restless. I could sense Lizzie sleeping in her room. But Emma…I knew without looking that she was awake. This was the first time I had ever questioned my job. I hated that this chit could make me wonder about everything I’d been taught, everything I believed. Make me wonder about my very future as a Protector. How could I protect her if she didn’t even want this life?

With a growl of frustration, I paused near the windows. Emma’s apartment was quiet, still. To know such stillness, it left me with only time to think. I hungered for the peace of sleep. True sleep in which my mind would shut down for hours, without worry, without care. A glowing moon shone bright in the sky, making Main Street a silver blade below. Not good. A full moon had too much pull, too much magic. It made beings mad, both human and supernatural. Hell, maybe it was making me crazy.

I rested my hands on the cool glass. I was the only thing standing between the Matchmaker and darkness. A darkness I could feel encroaching, slowly but steadily. But what good was I when I couldn’t even bloody concentrate? What good was I when I had failed Clarice? Hell, I knew Emma would take the truth hard, who wouldn’t? A slow introduction had been my plan. I hadn’t wanted to overwhelm her. But apparently we didn’t have time to wait.

The door to her bedroom squeaked open. I spun around, my heart hammering unnaturally loud. I blamed it on nerves, but I knew the truth…anticipation. Emma paused in the doorway, wearing a pink tank top and shorts so short, they should have been illegal. Shite, I couldn’t do this…couldn’t be this close to her. Couldn’t think of her as anything but a client.

She gave me a wry half smile. “I couldn’t sleep.”

Join the club. I nodded, unable to speak, for my throat seemed suddenly dry. Her hair was tousled in blonde waves that hung around her shoulders and down her back. Her makeup was long gone, but it didn’t detract from her beauty. She wasn’t supermodel gorgeous, but there was something about her…something…

My chest tightened in a way I didn’t really understand. “Your powers are bothering you?”

Her smile fell and I regretted my words immediately. “No, I just can’t sleep.”

Apparently, when dealing with Emma one must not mention powers, true love, or anything supernatural. In other words, the entire reason I was here. Right, we’d get along just fine.

She swept by me, heading toward her small kitchen. I used the moment to take in a deep breath, attempting to regain control of my emotions. Whether she wanted to or not, she bloody well needed to get used to her abilities, and me. I wasn’t going anywhere; neither were her powers.

The aura around her was growing…spreading. Even humans would notice soon and be unable to control their inexplicable need to be near her. While the supernatural world…well, hell, they’d sense her from countries away. And when they did, they’d come running. But if everything went as planned, she’d be tucked safely away by then.

I leaned against the window, crossing my arms over my chest, and watched her as she pulled open the refrigerator door. The light shone on her bare arms and face, highlighting her body, giving her a heavenly glow.

Yeah, she’s an angel, all right, I thought sarcastically.

She was doing her best to ignore me, to pretend she wasn’t nervous. But I knew. I always knew. “It’s only going to get worse, Emma, until you learn to control your powers.”

She scoffed, releasing a wry laugh. “Powers?”

Annoyed, I pushed away from the windows and started toward her. “You’ve had a vision and it won’t leave you alone until you match them. Once a couple has latched on to you, they won’t let go.”

“So, you can move things, huh?”

She was doing a bad job of changing the subject. “Yes. But not much. It takes a lot of energy.” I was silent for a long moment, letting her relax. “We need to discuss your powers.”

She slid me a wary glance. “You’re serious?”

Had I mentioned she was stubborn? “Why can’t you sleep? You were dreaming, weren’t you? Of the couple you saw.”

She slammed the door shut and turned to glare at me. “Tony is so not Paula’s type.”

“Come here.” I didn’t wait, but spun around and made my way to the living room, hoping she followed.

“Why?”

I resisted the urge to sigh as I settled on the sofa. “Just trust me.”

She laughed again, annoying me even further.

“Emma, you’ve let me sleep in your apartment, obviously you trust me a little.” As if she’d had a choice in the matter. I would have stayed whether she wanted me or not. She didn’t quite seem to realize that I was in charge, but she would soon enough.

Hesitantly, she strolled toward me. Hell, she might as well have been going to the dentist for all the excitement she showed. She might not trust me fully, might not believe me completely, but she was curious. She wanted answers, to uncover the truth. I’d use that to my advantage.

She settled on the sofa, so close it was distracting. I held out my hands, all business. “Take hold.”

As if she’d rather hold hands with that rotting demon than touch me, she stared at my palms. This wasn’t going well at all. The woman could crush a man’s ego.

Finally she rested her hands on mine. For a moment, all I could focus on was the touch of her skin, heat to heat. I inched my thumb left and could feel the beat of her heart in her wrist. So human, so fragile.

Swallowing hard, I forced my mind to calm. Flashes of light burst behind my eyes. Thoughts of the present faded as colors, memories, feelings of the past swarmed through my very being. A girl…nine or ten…blonde hair, large blue eyes. Emma. She stood at the door of a small house as a man walked down the road, a suitcase in hand. Fear, sorrow welled within me, the feelings so strong I sucked in a sharp breath.

“When’s Daddy coming back?” a red-haired girl asked, slipping her small hand into Emma’s.

“He’s not,” Emma whispered.

More moments, more emotions, more memories flashed through my mind, leaving me bemused and stunned. Suddenly, I was outside in a cemetery, a preacher nearby, the vibrant green grass interrupted by gray and white tombstones. A young Emma and Lizzie were dressed in black, their faces pale with misery as tears streamed down their cheeks.

“Ashes to ashes…” a preacher said.

“Emma,” Lizzie whispered. “I’m scared.”

“Don’t be, I’ll always take care of you.”

Their father’s funeral, I realized.

But as I started toward them, the memory disappeared and I was bursting through her past once more. Shite, I didn’t know what the hell was going on; I’d expected to see her matches, not her life. I needed to regain control and fast. Mentally I reached out, clinging to what little power I retained. The memories came to a blinding halt and I was standing next to Lizzie and Emma as young teenagers living in this very loft.

“Will Mom be better, Emma? Will she stop crying?”

Emma slipped her arm around her sister. “Yeah, sure she will, when she finds a new boyfriend.” She took her sister’s hand. “Come on, I’ll make dinner.”

She started toward the kitchen, Lizzie following.

“But how will we afford the rent?”

Emma turned to face her sister, determination in her blue eyes. “Don’t worry about it. I told you before, I’ll take care of us.”

More light, more flashes, more memories, like cards being shuffled in a deck. Pictures of a past life. The world stopped; for a second there was darkness.

Then suddenly, I was there, lying atop her under that lilac only two days ago. And I felt the heat rush through her body at my contact, mixing with my own desire and surging through my form in a lust so powerful I could barely contain myself. I realized in that moment that I wasn’t just feeling my own attraction…but hers.

Cold reality burst through. I slammed back into my body. It was like hitting a frozen pond full force. I sucked in a great gulp of air and opened my eyes. Emma was sitting next to me, her gaze wary. Trying to regain control of my breathing, I looked around. No vision. This was real life. My fingers curled around hers, reveling in the warmth. Real. She was real.

“Are you all right?” she asked.

I jerked my hands away from her and stood. “Fine.” I stumbled back, needing distance. I wasn’t right. Not at all. My body trembled like a weakling. I felt off-balance, not myself. Damn it all, I hated feeling out of control. What the hell had she done to me?

“What is it?” Emma asked, standing.

I swiped my damp hands on my trousers. “It wasn’t supposed to happen like that.”

Emma narrowed her eyes. “What? What happened?”

But I couldn’t answer, all I could do was stare at her in shock and confusion. I wasn’t supposed to see her life. Shite, I wasn’t supposed to experience her feelings, her thoughts. I was only supposed to see her matches. What the hell had just happened? She’d invaded me, the little witch. I rubbed the back of my neck. My body felt warm, wrong, as if I were inside someone else’s skin. Or too close to Emma. Much too close.

“Owen?”

“Nothing,” I said a little too sharply. “Nothing’s wrong.” I turned and raked trembling fingers through my hair. It wasn’t supposed to be like this. I was supposed to remain detached, aloof. A Protector, interfering only when needed. A mere bodyguard.

“Either start talking, or leave,” she finally demanded.

I gritted my teeth and looked up at the ceiling, as if to find answers in the dusty beams above. I had to give her something. “You…you need to call her.”

“Who?”

I turned to face Emma. “Paula, the woman in the building. You need to call her, you need to make sure they meet. It’s the only way, Emma, to get them out of your head. The fates are demanding you match them.”

She clenched her jaw, that stubbornness back full force. The truth had upset her, but at least she had forgotten my bizarre behavior. I glanced at the clock. It was only eleven; the woman might still be awake.

“Emma, give it up. The man’s not for you.”

She swallowed hard and looked away. “Then who is?”

Her question startled me more than the images I’d seen only moments ago. That catch in her voice made me uneasy. Did she truly care? A woman who made her living breaking up couples actually wanted a man in her life? “I can’t answer that.”

She looked at me, her gaze hard and unrelenting once more. “Can’t, or won’t?”

Both, I wanted to say. But I couldn’t tell her the truth now, not when she was so vulnerable. She already had too much to deal with. If she knew the truth, she’d bolt. “Can’t,” I said. “Because I don’t know.” And I didn’t know, not really. It wasn’t a lie, so why did I feel so damn guilty? I picked up her phone and held it out. “Call her.”

For one long moment she merely looked at the mobile and I thought she might refuse. Surprising me, she snatched the phone from my hand. Another battle in my favor, but I knew better than to gloat.

“Fine.” While she waited, that phone pressed to her ear, she met my gaze, her eyes full of animosity. I didn’t look away.

“Hey, it’s Emma from apartment 1B,” she said into the phone. “We haven’t chatted in a while. Thought maybe you’d want to meet for lunch tomorrow?” She nodded, pausing a moment. “Great. Meet me tomorrow around noon at the coffee shop on the corner, you know it?” She swallowed hard, and I knew this was difficult for her, but frankly I didn’t give a shite. The sooner she got over this Tony guy, the better.

“Yeah, okay. Twelve. Great.” She hung up and handed me the phone. “There. Are you happy?”

I took the phone and set it on the counter. Happy? Not exactly. How could I be happy knowing what was to come? It was going to be hard, bloody hard. “Yeah,” I lied.

“Is it done now?” she asked, crossing her arms over her chest. “Will you leave me alone?”

Done? Was she joking? I released a harsh laugh. “Hell, Emma, it’s only just begun.”

********

The sun had yet to rise when I slipped from Emma’s building and strolled down Main Street. At four in the morning barely a soul could be seen, only the bakery was active, the scent of warm bread and doughnuts making my stomach grumble. There would be time for breakfast later. Although there was no one about, I stuck to the shadows in hopes that I could make it to the cemetery and back before anyone noticed my odd behavior. Fifteen minutes…I’d only be gone fifteen minutes at the most. Surely Emma would be fine until my return. I needed to talk to Jotham, and the cemetery would be the most inconspicuous place. A place where the aura of our powers would be muffled.

I jogged across the empty street. As my foot hit the sidewalk, an eerie shiver swept over my body. The feeling was so familiar that I couldn’t mistake it. I paused on the footpath. Someone was following me. I glanced back, searching the shadows where the streetlamps didn’t reach. No one was there. She was good, damn good, but then I expected nothing less considering her job; hiding in bushes, spying. Still, she couldn’t hide her energy. At least, not from me.

I hesitated, wondering if I should call her out now, but for some reason I held back. Hell, let her witness it firsthand, if that’s what she wanted. Perhaps then she would believe me. I reached for the cemetery gate. Inside, the area was quiet and still, shadowed by mausoleums and old oak trees. As my feet fell upon the soft moss, I felt her following. In the middle of the area, hidden by darkness and shadows, I closed my eyes and sent a mental message.

It was as Jotham was entering that I heard the snap of a branch. I glanced over my shoulder to see Emma standing there. Fully dressed, she wore tight jeans and a fitted green sweatshirt, while her hair was in a lopsided ponytail, as if she’d thrown it up in her haste to follow. I barely had time to be annoyed.

“Did you shut the gate?” I demanded.

“Seriously, what is it with you and cemeteries? No offense, but they’re kind of creepy. Can’t you—” Her eyes grew round as her gaze shifted to take in the area beyond me. “Holy crap!”

Served her right for spying. “I assume Jotham has arrived?” I turned to find the old man watching us curiously, hands folded demurely in front of his green robes. He was all calmness and patience. I envied him greatly. Then again, he didn’t have to deal with Emma.

“He…he…” Emma pointed at Jotham, who only lifted gray brows in response. “He just freaking appeared out of nowhere!”

“Actually,” he said with a smile, those eyes twinkling with amusement. “I used my own energy to merely travel from my chambers to here.”

“Right,” she whispered, then released a stunned laugh. She wasn’t nervous, she wasn’t terrified—she was amazed. The girl wasn’t afraid of anything.

“What a lovely dear,” Jotham said, causing Emma to flush.

Of course Jotham found her charming. He would. The man had a wicked sense of humor. I pulled my glasses off and rubbed the bridge of my nose, frustrated, bemused. How the hell was I going to question Jotham about Emma when she was standing right next to me?

“You needed something?” Jotham turned toward me, as if reading my mind. The old man knew exactly why I’d called: Emma. And he obviously found it amusing that I was now struggling over what to say.

I replaced my glasses. “I have a…problem.”

The old man’s gaze slid to Emma, then back to me. Yeah, he was spot-on. “I see.”

Emma frowned.

“Not her, at least not directly.”

A blackbird flew from a tree, resting on a nearby tombstone. Animals were drawn to Jotham’s ease and serenity. “Then what is the problem?”

“It’s just that…I can’t…”

Emma watched me curiously.

This would be so much easier without her here. “I saw her past. We touched and I saw her past, her memories.”

Jotham didn’t say a word, merely stood there staring at me with those fathomless eyes. That wasn’t good. Wasn’t good at all.

“Is that normal?” Emma finally asked.

Hell no, it wasn’t bloody normal. Jotham held out his arm and the blackbird hopped from the tombstone to his forearm. “Not exactly.”

“What is it then?” Emma demanded, crossing her arms over her chest. When she glared at me, as if this were all my fault, I had to resist the urge to glare back. Like I wanted to see her memories. As if I wanted to be even more connected to her than I already was.

“The elders call it a glitch, a mutation. It has been known to happen at times.” Jotham tickled the blackbird’s throat. “I believe it happened with your friend, Sebastian.”

My blood went cold. We all knew what had happened to Seb.

“But we must be sure that’s what you’ve experienced before we define it.”

Shite, that wasn’t good. I could hear the unspoken warning in his comment.

Emma’s confused gaze went back to me, as if expecting answers. Hell if I knew. As a Protector, it was normal to see a Matchmaker’s matches, but I’d never, in all of my nineteen years, heard of a Protector seeing past life events…until now. Why hadn’t Seb told me?

Jotham lifted his arm and the bird flew away. “I shall head home and see what I can uncover.”

I rubbed the back of my neck, frustrated with his lack of answers. Even more frustrated with the fact that this was all moving much too quickly. We both knew that if Jotham started asking questions, the Consulate would realize I had left without permission. I was surprised they didn’t know already.

Jotham’s hard gaze focused on me. “I suggest you head to France as soon as possible.”

In other words, it was time to tell the Consulate. Yeah, just as I’d suspected…it wasn’t normal to see her life’s events. He might seem calm but I could sense the unease. It wasn’t normal; the relationship I had with Emma wasn’t bleeding normal.

“France?” Emma stiffened. “You’re leaving?”

I didn’t miss the hopeful note in her voice. This time I did glare. “Not alone.”

“What does that mean?” she demanded.

“Children.” Jotham held his hands up, interrupting what was sure to become a heated argument. “I understand that there are many things you need to discuss. But you have something more important to worry about at the moment.”

A shiver of unease whispered over my skin, a tingle of warning. “Bloody hell.”

“What?” Emma asked warily as she scanned the cemetery. She sensed it too; I could tell by the way she stood, legs braced apart, as if preparing for battle.

“Another demon,” I muttered.

“It would seem you aren’t the only one who now knows about our Emma. Have fun.” With that, Jotham disappeared. Great help he was. But I knew what he was doing…heading home to find out just how screwed up my relationship with Emma was.

“Demon?” Emma demanded. “Did you just say demon?”

I didn’t respond but slowly turned, searching with my senses. We didn’t have time to appease her demands or her curiosity. There…coming from near the vault where I’d left the other demon. “Another Bubontic.”

“That gray blob thingy you showed me in the vault?”

I shrugged off my jacket and tossed it to a nearby tombstone. “Yeah. Lucky you, you get to see one in the flesh.”

“Wow, my life just keeps getting better and better,” she muttered.

She was taking it calmer than I’d expect most newbies to, and for that I had to reluctantly respect her. “They consume their own kind when one dies. I should have burned it when I had the chance, but a fire would have been noticed. I don’t suppose I can talk you into returning to your home?”

“Not a chance.”

She actually looked thrilled to fight. I resisted the urge to sigh. The sky had turned from black to gray. I had to kill the thing before the sun rose and there were witnesses. I reached into my vest pocket, finding a small bottle. “Here.”

I tossed the holy water. She grabbed the bottle as it twisted and turned in the sky toward her. “Will it kill it?”

“No, just stun it for a bit.”

“Wonderful,” she drawled out. “How about you give me something that can actually do some damage?”

I resisted the urge to scoff. “You know how long I’ve studied?” We moved around a mausoleum. “How many demons there are? How many ways to kill them? You know nothing about my world. Your assault rifles won’t do shite.”

“Yeah, well, I deal with vindictive husbands. I think I can handle a demon.” She followed me, moving impressively silently. “Besides, according to you it’s my world now too.”

Damn it all, she had a point. I frowned, reached into my vest, and handed her a dagger. If she wanted to fight, let her think she was going to. I just hoped she didn’t hurt herself in the process. “Fine. Here. Aim for the left side, right below the ribs.”

“Why?”

Dear God, the woman never stopped asking questions. Did she not see I was sort of busy here? “Because it’s where the heart is. Every demon has a heart in a different spot. Destroying the heart is the easiest way to kill them.”

She took in a deep, shuddering breath. “Good to know.”

Just like that, my annoyance fled. She might feign strength, but I could sense her nervousness. She’d be a bloody idiot if she wasn’t nervous. An idiot, or insane. But although she was nervous, I also knew enough about her to know she wouldn’t run away. No, she would fight till the end. Even though she’d never in her life battled a demon, never even known they existed, she would stand her ground until she killed the beast, or he killed her. She was going to make my job a living hell, but damn it all if she didn’t impress me.

“Whatever you do, do not let it get its claws into you.” I might be able to survive the poison, but she never would.

“Why?”

“Just don’t.” A car drove down Main Street, the headlights briefly flashing across the cemetery. “Go left,” I whispered. “We’ll meet him around the back.”

She nodded and took off, didn’t even bloody wait for me to explain more. Holy hell, the woman was going to get herself killed. I sighed, heading right. The only reason I didn’t stop her was because I knew the demon was closer to me. I could sense the beast. Emma was in no immediate danger…as long as I kept the demon nearby. Maybe I could kill it before Emma even had time to react. I kicked a rock, sending it skittering across the ground until it hit a tombstone.

The noise had the desired effect, drawing the demon closer. If Emma honestly thought I’d let her fight the thing, she was bloody insane. We each had jobs to do; my job was to protect her, her job was to make matches. Once she accepted her fate our lives would be a lot easier. Unfortunately, I had a feeling it would take some time before she settled into her new role.

Silence, and then the softest shuffle. The beast was coming toward me and he wasn’t in his human form. Good, if Emma saw the demon for what it was, a terrifying monster, it would only help my cause. Hopefully she’d leave the killing to me. A huge dark form stepped out from behind a mausoleum.

“Good morning, you disgusting bastard,” I called out in greeting. There was nothing more amusing than taunting a demon. “Why don’t you tell me how you know about my Matchmaker, and perhaps I’ll kill you quickly?”

The beast lifted its gray lips and growled. His massive shoulders hunched, rounding as he prepared to attack. Fortunately, Emma was still at the back of the cemetery and out of harm’s way.

I held my arms wide, urging the thing to attack. The faster we got this over with, the better. “Come, let’s chat, shall we?”

The demon burst forward, a blur of darkness. I tossed the water toward him just as he hit me. His scream ripped through the air, raising the fine hairs on the back of my neck. The water might have stung, but it didn’t stop him. He hit me hard and we fell together with a thud, his heavy body crushing me into the soft earth. This close, I could hear the sizzle of his skin from the holy water. But my glory was short-lived. My lungs squeezed painfully, the demon crushing me with his heavy weight.

I grappled at my side, reaching for my knife when suddenly Emma appeared, hovering behind us like some damn guardian angel. She raised her right arm, the dagger in hand. Hell, she was going to save my pathetic arse. She brought her arm down directly into the demon’s back. I could hear the swoosh of the blade cutting through muscle and tendons.

The demon shivered, groaned, and collapsed atop me. The weight would have killed a human. I wasn’t sure whether to be grateful, or embarrassed that she’d just come to my rescue. The sticky tar of the demon’s blood seeped down around me, soaking through my clothing. I shoved my hands into its shoulders and heaved the carcass away. It fell to the ground with a thud that shook the cemetery.

Emma grinned down at me. “Well, that was easy.”

I looked away, frowning at the quickly decaying carcass.

Shite. She was right…this just kept getting better and better. If Emma could protect herself, why the bloody hell was I here?

Chapter 7

Emma

The brilliant sunlight brought with it a harsh reality that didn’t leave room for magic and demons. I moved across the street toward the coffee shop, practically oblivious to the early morning traffic. Although it had been hours since I’d killed the demon, hours since I’d last seen Owen, my hands still trembled. I’d never killed anyone…anything…whatever it was. Should I have felt nervous? Guilty? Grateful? Oddly, all I felt was numb.

A car honked, startling me. Every noise was a threat, every shadow a potential enemy. My entire world had changed. Nothing felt safe anymore. Slowly, I glanced up and down the street, peering into the familiar faces of my neighbors. Who could I trust?

Shaking off my unease, I pulled open the door of the coffee shop and breathed in the familiar aroma of pastries and coffee beans. This was reality. This was where I belonged, in this world of humans and nonmagic, in Michigan with Lizzie. Tony stood behind the counter, smiling at a customer. It was all so achingly familiar that my heart twisted painfully. What if it were true? What if I suddenly had the ability to match people? What if Paula and Tony belonged together? What if my entire world were about to change, whether I wanted it to or not? No. I steeled myself. I wouldn’t accept that I was not in control of my own life.

I moved to a table near the windows and picked up a newspaper, hiding behind it. I was vaguely aware of the bell above the door jingling, announcing the arrival of another customer, but I continued to watch Tony, studying the man and my feelings for him.

Lizzie suddenly appeared next to me. “Okay, Emma, seriously, what’s up with this Owen guy?”

“Sit down!” I hissed, latching on to her arm and jerking her into the chair next to mine. I swore she’d been born merely to blow my cover. “Can’t you tell when someone is hiding?”

“Good God, you’re spying again?” She glanced around the room, her long auburn ponytail swishing across her tanned shoulders. “Who is it this time?”

“He’ll see you.” I gripped the edge of her chair and pulled her closer, the legs screeching against the floor. “And I’m not working. At least, not really.”

“Who?” she whispered, leaning close to me. “Who are you spying on?”

I lifted the newspaper, hiding us both. “Tony.”

“Tony?” She stiffened, frowning. “Since when do you not want Tony to see you? You’ve always gone out of your way to make sure he notices you.”

Flushing, I slid her a glance. “You know?”

She grinned. “About your little crush? Uh, yeah. You get all flirty and girly when he’s around.” She brushed her ponytail over her shoulder. “So in other words, the total opposite of how you normally act.”

It was my turn to frown. “I’m not Attila the Hun.”

She sighed, resting her elbow on the table and her chin in her palm. “I don’t mean that. You’ve never had a problem talking to him before. Why not just go chat?”

“Because I don’t want to chat with him. I’m…” What was I doing? Sitting here waiting to see if some sort of magical love potion would go into effect the moment Paula arrived?

“Ridiculous,” I muttered, tossing the paper down. Yet, I couldn’t deny that what Owen had said up until this point had been true. Crap, what if he was right about my matchmaking abilities? What if those demons were only the beginning in a long line of threats? I glanced at my sister. My sweet, innocent, totally clueless sister.

“Hey,” I said. “I need you to stay at Beth’s for the next couple of nights.”

Lizzie raised her brows, her brilliant blue eyes showing her shock. “Seriously? You’re that into Owen?”

I flushed. She was totally getting the wrong idea. I’d never lied to Lizzie before about anything important, but I didn’t see how I could tell her the truth. This new world I’d suddenly found myself a part of would eat her alive within seconds. “Yeah. I am.”

Her mouth dropped open. “Emma, you just met the guy. I mean, I’m glad you like him, but don’t you think you should wait before getting that serious?”

I looked heavenward and sighed. She would never let it rest. Maybe I should have just told her the truth. If anyone would believe in magic, it would be her. But I wasn’t about to have this conversation here…in a coffee shop while waiting to see if the guy I had a thing for would fall in love with my neighbor. “Let’s go home.”

I started to push away from the table when the door opened, the bell overhead ringing. There on the threshold stood Paula. My shoulders sank, my heart followed. I swore I didn’t believe in these newfound powers, so why did I have the sudden urge to shove her back outside before Tony noticed her?

“There you are.” She gave me a hesitant smile. Obviously she was confused. We chatted in the halls and I fed her cat when she went on vacation, but we were far from coffee-drinking buddies. Besides, she was in college, and didn’t have any desire to hang out with a seventeen-year-old high school student.

“Hey,” I muttered weakly.

Lizzie slid me a confused glance.

“Hey, Lizzie.” She turned her smile to my sister. I could admit that Paula was pretty in an understated way. Her smile was contagious and her eyes always friendly. But it didn’t make the vision of her and Tony kissing any easier to take.

“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.”

“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.

“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.

Chapter 8

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.

“I’ll be fine, Sis, at the cottage in France. Come on…be happy for me.”

As the girls gathered around the telly, I moved toward the only open window and climbed out onto the fire escape. The evening air was cool and tempting, easing my flushed skin. I set my pop on the ledge and climbed the ladder to the rooftop. The night stars twinkled above, a massive universe full of so much more than we could have ever imagined. In the distance, I could hear the soft crash of waves against the lakeshore, so much like an ocean it was tempting to believe one was at the sea.

“Hey,” a familiar voice called out, but not Emma.

I tamped down my inexplicable disappointment and turned to see Lizzie picking her way across the rooftop in ridiculously high heels. She’d fall and kill herself, and of course Emma would blame me.

“Are you all right?” she asked, coming to stand beside me.

I forced myself to smile. “Yes. Fine, thanks.”

She smiled back at me, a dazzling smile, and for one ridiculous moment I wondered why Emma couldn’t smile at me that way. What I should have been wondering was why the hell I couldn’t have had the luck to deal with Lizzie instead. I walked her toward the middle of the roof where two beach chairs sat. Yes, it would be much easier to deal with Lizzie, and not because she had a ready smile and pleasant attitude, but because I wasn’t attracted to her like I was Emma.

“Not interested in watching the movie? It’s a romantic comedy, I know you guys love those.”

I gave her a hesitant smile. It was obvious she was jesting with me, yet I didn’t understand her joke. I never watched movies. Never watched the telly, either. I’d been too busy training. Besides, we didn’t have television sets at the Consulate.

“So, how long will you be here?”

I rubbed the back of my neck, hating small talk. She wanted to know something and I wished she’d just get it over with already and ask. “Not long.”

“And you’re taking Emma to France for her protection?”

I nodded slowly, unsure what exactly Emma had told her. She was quiet for a long moment and I had a feeling it was uncommon for her. Trying, no doubt, to decide what to divulge.

“She wants me to go stay with our grandmother until she gets back.”

I didn’t bother to mention Emma wouldn’t be returning. It would only cause more problems. “Yes, it would be best if you did.”

“Our mother was very romantic, you know. She named us after Jane Austen characters.”

I remained silent, unsure what she wanted me to say. I had a feeling there was more to this conversation than it seemed. And I had a feeling there was more to Lizzie than what she seemed. That scatterbrained personality might have just been a facade after all.

“It killed her when our father left. She started going from guy to guy, looking for affection, I guess.” She didn’t finish, but she didn’t need to. I already knew. What I didn’t know was why she was admitting so much to a stranger. I felt almost as if I were betraying Emma merely by listening. There was no doubt she would be furious with her sister for telling me their dark family secrets.

“Emma is a lot like our mom.”

I slid her a glance. Were we talking about the same person?

She laughed, apparently reading the shock upon my face. “Not that she goes from man to man. But she’s a complete romantic, deep down. She does believe in true love and all that, she just won’t admit it. When she loves, she loves completely. With her very being. And if she lost that love, she’d be crushed.”

“Why are you telling me this?” I finally asked, feeling extremely uncomfortable.

“Because I see the way she looks at you. She’s attracted to you, it’s obvious. And now she tells me you’re taking her to some cottage in France. Well, I can’t help but worry. She’s the only sibling I have.”

I wanted to laugh. She wasn’t worried about demons; she was worried about me breaking Emma’s heart. “There is nothing between us, Ms. Watts. There never will be. Never. I can promise you that.”

A relationship went against the rules, and I never went against the rules, no matter how much I wanted to. Hell, and I wanted to, really, really wanted to.

Lizzie stood. “Good. Just make sure Emma knows too.”

I felt Emma’s presence before I heard the creak of the ladder she climbed.

Lizzie turned toward her sister. “Hey, is the movie starting?”

“Yeah.” Emma stepped onto the roof, glancing warily between the two of us, obviously wondering what we’d been speaking about. “I’ll be down in a minute, Liz.”

Lizzie didn’t hesitate, merely threw us a smile and disappeared, her heels tapping against the metal ladder, then silence as she returned to the flat. For one moment we merely stood there staring at each other, the whisper of the wind and occasional rumble of cars below the only sound in the night.

Finally she moved, stepping closer toward me. “Never, huh?”

I cringed. Damn it all, she’d heard. But from the landing below, she shouldn’t have been able to hear a word. Unless…her powers were growing much more quickly than I’d expected. Usually it took months, even years, for a Matchmaker’s senses to heighten.

Her lips lifted into a wry grin as she paused a few feet from me. “No need to worry, Owen, I won’t be throwing myself at you again. In fact, I just kissed you as a thank-you.”

She was merely reacting to the blow to her ego, but my hackles still rose. She may as well have kicked me in the balls. “To thank me?”

She nodded, crossing her arms over her chest. “And my sister’s wrong, I’m not like my mother at all. So, you don’t have to worry. End of story.” She started to turn away, but not before I saw the look of hurt in her eyes. Just as I thought…Emma lashed out when injured. She was bloody human, after all. I should have let her go, but my conscience wouldn’t let me.

“Emma, wait.” I latched on to her wrist. I only meant to reassure her, but as she fell into me, Hell, I no longer cared about rules. I cupped the back of her head. Before she could protest, I pressed my lips to hers. It wasn’t the demanding kiss that we’d shared inside. No, this was slow, seductive.

So seductive that Emma slid her arms around my neck, her lush body sinking willingly into mine. Hell, so much for not getting close. She tasted sweet…like pop and strawberries. This was getting too deep, too fast. Dredging up all the strength I could, I tore my mouth from hers. For a long moment, we merely stood there within each other’s arms.

I knew I had to explain something. “It’s not that I’m not attracted to you, Emma. It’s that…”

Her breath was warm upon my neck, so distracting. “What?”

“The problem is that I am…too much.”

She raised her gaze to mine. The shock there was almost amusing. How could she not know?

“We work together,” I said. “It would get messy. We just can’t.”

“Messy.” She pressed her palms against my chest and pushed away, stepping back. “Right. I know. Which is why I’m not going to France with you.”

I wanted to laugh at her comment, until I realized she was completely serious. She turned and started toward the ladder. Stunned, I just watched her go. She was going to deny her powers? Deny what she was born to do? I gritted my teeth, glaring at her back. She might be able to ignore her job, but I couldn’t ignore mine. I wouldn’t.

Emma was bloody well going to France, even if I had to carry her onto the plane. But I wasn’t worried; I knew the perfect way to get her to agree. “Well then,” I called out. “I’ll just move in here.”

Chapter 9

Emma

How the heck I’d ended up at the O’Hare airport, I wasn’t sure. Having already gone through security, I stood silently by, watching Owen hand over his briefcase and stroll confidently through the metal detectors as if they wouldn’t dare go off. Sure enough, he made it through, while I’d set the thing off twice before finally being deemed safe enough to fly.

But then, why would they worry over him? He didn’t exactly fit their profile. Handsome, dressed in the best of suits. While I apparently looked shifty in my jeans and military-style jacket, and deserved a thorough pat-down.

The glasses and suit didn’t deter females, either. More than one woman looked his way, even women in their thirties and forties were watching him with obvious interest, much to my annoyance. Although why it bothered me, I wasn’t sure. He was my Protector, nothing else, as he’d made adamantly clear.

You like him, Lizzie’s suggestion taunted in my mind.

I closed my eyes and leaned my head back against the wall. Damn Lizzie for always being so perceptive. I could admit, at least to myself, that there was something about the frustratingly straitlaced man that intrigued me. Something about his presence that calmed me. Something about the way we kissed that made me want more.

I turned my head away from the security gates as a heated flush washed over me. Lord, I could hardly think about that kiss without blushing. I hadn’t been kissed like that since…ever. It was like I was in the middle of one of Lizzie’s freaking romance novels. I scoffed, folding my arms against my chest. More like a Nicholas Sparks book in which someone would end up dead at the end. That would be my luck.

“We have an hour,” Owen stated as he paused beside me, although I’d felt his presence even before I turned to face him. “And then we’ll be on our way.”

“Great,” I muttered. “Wonderful.”

A supposed lifetime at Owen’s side. Just perfect.

Owen frowned, sensing my surly attitude, but then I was doing little to hide it.

“Give me a break, okay?” I whispered, stepping closer to him so we wouldn’t be overheard. “You can’t expect me to be excited about giving up my life.”

But I knew he thought I should be thrilled. He believed my life was pointless, and therefore it wasn’t any big deal to leave it all behind. “What you’re doing is for the greater good.”

“Yeah, well, what about my greater good?” So, that came out sounding completely selfish, but weren’t all those self-help books Mom read always saying how you had to think about yourself before you could help others?

“I hardly see how giving up a life of hiding in shrubbery and destroying marriages is not for your greater good.”

Heated anger flushed through my body. “Stop vilifying my job! What I did was help women move on. I gave them the reason they needed to leave a soul-sucking marriage and start a new life.”

He quirked a brow. “Ah, is that why you’re so cheerful all the time? Why, you’re a bloody martyr.”

“Screw you.”

I turned and trudged toward the chairs that overlooked the landing strip, making sure I didn’t touch anyone. He’d been an ass ever since our second kiss, and I knew he was kicking himself about our lapse in judgment. But that didn’t mean he needed to take it out on me. Dropping my carry-on to the floor, I slumped into an empty seat.

In the middle of the night the airport certainly wasn’t bustling, but there were still enough travelers that my mind buzzed with romantic feelings from those around me. The aspirin I’d taken earlier helped, turning the passion into a low murmur instead of a pulsing pain, but the medication was wearing off already. And Owen sure as heck wasn’t helping.

How could he be such a jerk?

We’d kissed. So what? But even as I thought the words, I knew them to be false. Those kisses had been so much more than anything I’d experienced before. I took in a deep, trembling breath. Yet, here he was acting as if nothing had happened. Heck, maybe that kiss had been nothing to him.

“Would you like to discuss anything?” he asked, settling in the chair beside me.

I rolled my eyes. He was so clinical about it. As if we could have a scientific conversation about our lapse in good judgment. Soon, he’d be breaking out charts and graphs that showed me exactly why the kiss had been a bad idea.

“Nothing at all.” I smiled up at him, refusing to acknowledge it.

He watched me warily, obviously not trusting my response in the least. I was a female, so of course I wanted to discuss every intimate detail of our brief kissing episodes. No way was I giving him the satisfaction. After a few minutes in which I remained stubbornly silent, he stood.

“I need to make a call. Stay put.”

I gritted my teeth, the response automatic when someone demanded anything of me. Too many days with my grandmother. As Owen strolled toward the windows, pulling out his cell phone, I tried to relax.

So, I was giving up my life and career to chase after fate. It would only be for a while…a year, two, tops. Right? I had no doubt I would be back. This would all blow over. They’d realize I wasn’t for them and send me back. Or, if everyone were as straitlaced as Owen, I’d go insane and murder them all.

The problem was now that I was leaving…there was a part of me that was thrilled. To be honest, I figured I’d be stuck in our small town until Lizzie graduated. I’d started online schooling long ago and was scheduled to graduate early. But I’d always hoped, dreamed, of seeing the world, and because of him, I would.

Owen.

Unwillingly, my gaze went to the guy. He had one shoulder propped against the glass windows, his lips moving as he spoke on the cell phone. I couldn’t help but wonder what he was talking about, who he was talking to. He was frowning, so he was probably talking about me. Damn it all, how I wished I didn’t notice how well his dark jacket fit his broad shoulders. How he rubbed the back of his neck when he was upset. Wished I didn’t remember how he had not only taken my pain, but actually taken my wound. I sighed and tore my gaze away. He’d only taken my pain because it had been his job. End of story.

“He’s totally for me,” a woman said, tossing her carry-on to the floor and sinking into a chair a couple down from mine. She had a cell phone pressed to her ear. In her thirties, she was a pretty blonde with a petite body, and stylish clothes that said she had money. I noticed the suit and briefcase, and assumed she was returning or going on a work trip.

“Henry is gorgeous, makes great money.”

“But there have to be other things to base a relationship on than attraction,” I could hear the other person on the line say.

“Amen,” I whispered, before realizing just how odd it was that I could hear the woman on the other end.

“Excuse me?” the woman snapped, glaring my way.

“Nothing, sorry.”

She turned her back to me. “Some people are so rude.”

“I know,” I replied sweetly. “Like people who talk loudly on their cell phones in public places.”

“Listen.” The woman jumped to her feet, her face flushed as she grabbed my arm.

“No, you listen.” I jumped up too, but the moment I stood, the room faded.

Suddenly I was floating in an office, cubicles filling the room like dominoes. The soft murmur of conversation, typing, and ringing of phones combined together in an unnatural hum that vibrated through me. People rushed by, looking frazzled and unhappy. I shivered, crossing my arms over my chest. Why was I here?

“I just don’t think it will work,” I heard a man whisper.

I spun around. There, hidden behind a row of filing cabinets, was the blonde. A tall man with dark hair stood next to her, his face frustrated and serious.

“Tell me why, when you know there’s a connection,” the blonde whined.

Ugh, there was nothing more nauseating than a woman begging a man to love her.

“Gabby, we have nothing in common.”

In other words, she’d slept with him, he got what he wanted and had no need for her anymore, while she had mistaken their one-night stand for true love.

“We work well together,” she whispered, desperate. “You can’t fight this.”

“I can.” He took a step back. “I’m sorry.”

When he started down the hall, she raced after him.

“Bill, please,” she called out.

I started after them, wanting to see how the train wreck would end, but a sharp pain in my chest stopped me cold. I stumbled, falling to my knees. The cubicles disappeared. The entire world disappeared and suddenly I was rushing through darkness. My consciousness hit my body like an airplane hitting the ground. My eyes opened, the fluorescent lights unnaturally bright. I gasped for air as the airport around me wavered in and out of focus.

“Don’t you dare speak to me like—”

“Shut up. Just shut up!” My head thumped, the pain almost bringing me to my knees. Sparks of light danced before my eyes as the entire room spun. Frantically, I looked for Owen. He was hanging up as he headed toward me, worry in his green eyes. He knew, somehow, that I’d had a flash. But what sort of flash? It hadn’t been red hearts and warm feelings like Tony and Paula. No, this was cold and terrifying and lonely. So lonely.

“The man at work, the man you’re talking about…” I took in a deep breath, and focused on Blondie once more. “Bill. He’s not for you.”

The minute the words left my mouth, I knew them to be right. It was exactly what the fates, universe, God, whatever it was called, wanted me to say.

The woman paled. “How do you know Bill?”

“I just do.” I raked my hands through my hair. “Just stop fighting it for my sake and yours.”

The woman crossed her arms and glared at me. “I don’t know who put you up to this—”

“Whatever,” I snapped. “All I know is that you’re going to be miserable if you don’t accept the inevitable.” I knew I sure as heck was. A wave of nausea hit me. My legs trembled, my heart racing. I needed to sit, or lie down. I needed something. “He doesn’t want you, he never will.”

“Where the hell do you get—”

I held up my hand, cutting the woman off. “Please, take my advice. If anyone needs a reality check, it’s you.”

The woman gasped, her face flushing in outrage. “How dare you!”

Suddenly, Owen was there and I could admit I was relieved. He’d know what to do. “All right, come along.” He slipped his arm around my waist and practically lifted me, leading me toward the other side of the waiting area. “You seriously need to work on your bedside manner. Now, sit.”

He released his hold and I slumped into a vacant chair, feeling very much like a petulant child. I could only hope Blondie would accept Bill wasn’t her match. I couldn’t stand to be haunted by her for the rest of my life.

“Can’t I leave you alone for five minutes?”

I glared up at him. “I was doing my supposed job! I think.”

He rubbed the back of his neck. “There is a way to broach the subject—”

“And how would I know that?” I surged to my feet, only to wobble as the room spun. There was his arm again, slipping around my waist and holding me upright. He was there; it was his job. I couldn’t read anything into it. I shoved his arm away and slumped into my chair. But it would be a cold day in hell before I’d admit I needed him.

“You’re right,” he said softly. “We haven’t discussed much, but once we get to France, there will be people there who can teach you—”

“People? It won’t be you?” I didn’t know why that stung, but it did. Heck, I didn’t even like Owen but I was used to him. He was the only familiar thing in my new life.

“I’ll be there, of course.”

Relieved, I rested my elbows on my knees and my head in my hands, although I wasn’t sure why. Dang headache wouldn’t go away and the more we spoke, the harder it pounded. Why did I have a feeling when we reached France, he was going to dump me off in the arms of the first capable trainer he found?

“A headache?”

I nodded.

“I’ll get you some aspirin and water, but please, for the love of all that’s holy, keep your mouth shut while I’m gone.”

Watching him stroll so confidently away, I glared at his back. I had to resist the urge to stick out my tongue. Easy for him to be so nonchalant; he didn’t have a million lovesick feelings clamoring through his head. Maybe the attraction I felt for Owen wasn’t even my own; maybe it was the result of a mixture of the emotions swirling around me. I just needed to go to France, and hopefully I could get some answers.

“You look like you could use a drink.”

I jumped, startled by the sudden voice. Heck, I barely had time to register the guy before he was settling in the chair directly next to me. Black dress shoes, dark jeans, a dark gray sweater, gorgeous face. His lips lifted into a slow and sexy grin, as if he knew exactly how hot he was, whereas Owen either didn’t know or didn’t care about his looks.

“Can I help you?” I asked warily.

He leaned back in his chair, relaxed, at ease. Lord, he was gorgeous, and not in an understated way like Owen. No. This man was the brooding, mysterious kind of gorgeous. Dark hair, cold blue eyes that sent a shiver over my skin. I’d dealt with men like him before, and they were as dangerous as hell. Men who had nothing to lose.

“Do I know you?” I tried again.

He held out his hand, large palms, perfectly manicured nails. Reluctantly, I slid my fingers into his firm grip. “’Tis my pleasure,” he said in a foreign accent. French, was my guess. Slowly, he brought my hand to his lips and pressed a soft kiss to the back of my fingers.

“Seriously?” I said, pulling away, laughing. “That’s your opening?”

He merely grinned at me. “It impresses most women.”

“Perhaps in your country. But here in the US, a man dressed in black, hovering around an empty airport just waiting for unsuspecting women, reeks of psycho.” I leaned closer to him. “In other words, it’s creepy.”

He laughed, a rich chuckle that made me smile despite myself. I might not be falling for his crap, but I liked him, for some odd reason I couldn’t quite explain.

“I think I like you,” he said.

“I was thinking the same thing about you.”

He straightened, lifting a dark brow. “Really?”

I laughed. “Don’t get too excited. I merely find you amusing. You know, like a charming puppy dog chasing his own tail.”

He grinned. “I’d rather be chasing your tail.”

“Dear God, you never stop, do you?”

He shrugged. “Persistence is the key to getting what you want.”

I was about to set him in his place when Owen stepped in front of me, glaring. “Am I interrupting?”

********

Owen

I’d been standing there a good minute or two without either of them noticing. At first, their flirtatious banter had merely annoyed me. But as their flirting moved from silly to downright inappropriate, my annoyance turned into anger. Sebastian was here for a job, not here to flirt with Emma. If we weren’t such good friends, I would have reported the man. As it was, I merely wanted to slam my fist into Seb’s perfectly brooding face.

Emma merely spared me a glance, as if she couldn’t be bothered by my presence, which annoyed me even more.

“Owen, my friend.” Seb stood, still grinning. “You look rather put out. Did someone forget to put sugar in your tea?”

“Sod off,” I growled.

The man merely lifted a brow. Just because we’d known each other for over a decade, and I trusted him more than anyone, didn’t mean we got along all the time. I had a feeling he knew exactly how I felt about Emma. I shoved the bottle of aspirin and water into Emma’s hands, then refocused on Seb.

“It’s about bloody time you arrived.”

“I take it you two know each other?” Emma asked.

“Indeed,” Seb replied. “I’m Sebastian.”

He held out his hand, but Emma merely shook her head. “Not falling for that again.”

I gritted my teeth, having witnessed his public display of affection. I’d sensed Seb’s arrival and had seen their little introduction from across the room. Seb’s lips on her hand had made me feel things that I really shouldn’t be feeling. Hell, I’d wanted to tear him from her side, to break his arm so he couldn’t touch her again. Yeah, you could say I’d overreacted. I rubbed the back of my neck, feeling tense and angry.

I was merely overly protective because it was my job, I told myself, but deep down I knew the real reason. Jealousy. Pure and simple. I knew if I told Seb to lay off, he would. But I wasn’t that pathetic. Or was I? Bloody hell, what was wrong with me?

“We need to talk.” I didn’t even glance at Emma as I started toward the windows, Seb at my side. I took the few moments before reaching the windows to calm my anger, regain control of my emotions.

“Quite the change in Matchmakers,” Seb said. “Old crone and now…” He glanced back at Emma and my ire grew once more. Didn’t the man know anything about respect and professionalism?

“Clarice was no old crone. Besides, anything with Emma is business. You know that better than anyone.”

“I’d do her.”

“Back off,” I growled.

Seb sank into a chair by the windows, stretching out his long legs. He was at ease, but I didn’t miss the amusement that briefly flashed in his cold blue eyes. I’d let my annoyance get the better of me.

“I apologize. That was uncalled for,” he said.

I paced in front of the windows, watching the flashing lights of an approaching plane. Seb was the one guy I trusted, and I couldn’t afford to destroy that friendship. “She gets to me for some reason. Crawls under my skin and annoys the hell out of me.”

“Ah, I see.” Seb was smiling again, a smirking know-it-all smile that shattered my patience.

My hands fisted at my sides as I paced in front of him. “What the hell does that mean?”

Seb shrugged. “Nothing at all.”

“You’re implying something.”

Seb slid Emma a glance. She was searching through her carry-on, but sensing our attention, she lifted her gaze. The heated flush that darkened her cheeks said she didn’t like to be the center of attention.

“So, you’re attracted to her,” Seb said. “It was bound to happen at some point. Even you are still human. Hell, Owen, you’re a nineteen-year-old male, what did you expect would happen?”

I parted my lips to immediately deny the accusation, yet even I knew the futility of it all. I sank into a chair. But there was something more to this attraction, something I didn’t understand. “Yes, damn it all. I’m attracted to her.”

“And obviously this is a problem.”

I raked my hands through my hair, feeling confused and anxious. “Of course it is. We can’t have a relationship—”

“According to?”

I surged to my feet and began to pace the area. “The Consulate, me.”

Seb shrugged again. “It’s frowned upon, it’s not outlawed.”

“You know as well as I do what could happen if we became attached to each other. It’s best to keep it business.” Unwillingly, my gaze slid to Emma. She was watching us and I knew I’d have to give her some sort of reason for Seb’s sudden appearance. Anything but the truth. If she knew about my suspicions, she’d never leave. “Besides, I’m pretty sure she hates me.”

He chuckled. “I’m not an expert on the female population, but even I know that a girl doesn’t look at you like she does if she hates you.”

Did she really feel the same way? “There’s a difference between attraction and like.”

He shrugged, indifferent to my dilemma.

“Why didn’t you tell me you bonded with your Matchmaker?”

His jaw worked, his gaze flickering with unease. “What do you mean?”

“Jotham told me you saw her past, her feelings. That you bonded.”

He looked away, that steel wall coming up in his eyes. I knew I’d overstepped, but I needed answers for my own sanity and for Emma’s safety. “Because the Consulate swore me to secrecy.”

The intercom crackled overhead. “Flight 211 to Lyon, France, will be began boarding in fifteen minutes.”

“I assume I’m here for a reason?” Seb finally asked. “Other than talking about my failed love life?”

“Yes.” I pulled my attention from Emma and focused on him. “I want you to ask around. See if you can find anything suspicious about Clarice’s death.”

Seb frowned. “You think someone killed her?”

“Not necessarily. But I’d like to know for sure. And be discreet.” I knew I could count on Seb. Yes, he might be a total wanker, but the man wouldn’t let me down.

“Why not tell the Consulate?”

“I don’t want to tell anyone yet, just in case I’m wrong.” I started toward Emma. “No reason to stir up trouble.”

Seb jumped to his feet, falling into step alongside me. “Fair enough. You’ve already caused enough of a commotion by leaving without permission.” He clucked his tongue and shook his head. “You know the moment you sense the next Matchmaker, you’re supposed to report it to the Consulate. Instead, you hightailed it out of the country without telling anyone who she was. Bold move.”

I knew my actions were insane and I’d have to come up with some explanation by tomorrow. I paused, well enough away from Emma that she shouldn’t be able to overhear. “Clarice…”

“Yes?”

“There was something suspicious in her death. I can’t pinpoint it, but I know, call it instinct. But that’s not all. There have been demon attacks.”

He paused for a second and although he didn’t outwardly react, I could sense his surprise. “Already?”

I nodded.

“Ready?” Emma appeared next to us, interrupting the conversation. No way was I going to tell her the truth about Clarice. She was reluctant enough to leave. If she knew someone might be out to get her, she’d refuse to come.

I gave her a quick nod. “Yes. I’ll meet you at the gate.”

She threw a farewell grin toward Seb, then left us. I watched her walk away, unable to tear my gaze from her. If Clarice had been murdered, that meant I’d failed her. I would not fail Emma. “Make sure no one notices your interest.”

“I’ll be a mere shadow in the night.”

I slapped him on the shoulder. “Good.”

“My friend,” Seb called out as I started toward Emma.

I paused and glanced back. “What is it?”

“Be careful. A fling is one thing, but falling in love is another matter.”

I flushed at the thought. Love? Of course not. The mere thought made me panic. “Don’t make the mistake in thinking we’re alike.”

Seb’s smile was brittle and I realized only too late I’d overstepped my bounds. Apparently I was determined to offend everyone I came into contact with.

His hands in his pockets, Seb took a step back. “Of course. By the book. You wouldn’t dare make a mistake, would you?”

“Of course not,” I said softly. “I could never, ever fall in love with Emma Watts. She’s completely inappropriate. Not at all my type.”

“Well, great,” she snapped from behind me. “But really, there’s no need to worry because I can barely stand you.”

I closed my eyes and resisted the urge to groan. Unfortunately, I could still hear Seb’s departing chuckle. The bastard had set me up on purpose. Emma stomped away, the very floor vibrating with her anger. I sighed and rubbed the back of my neck.

This was going to be one hell of a long flight.

France

Chapter 10

Emma

I can admit that as the train weaved its way through the French countryside, ancient towns of stone and thatched cottages flashing past my line of vision, any worries and anxiety seemed to vanish, replaced with the thrill and excitement of traveling abroad. How often had I dreamt of seeing the world? Of course I’d thought I’d be backpacking through Europe on a budget, meeting some hot French guy who’d show me the local sites. Not sitting on a train with a dour Englishman.

After Sebastian left, Owen had barely said a word. I’d tried to sleep on the plane, but mostly I’d found myself thinking about Owen’s harsh words. We hadn’t even sat side by side, but across the aisle from each other. I had a feeling Owen had purposefully purchased us separate seats. It was obvious he wanted to stay as far away from me as possible. And it hurt. For some stupid reason, it hurt. I wasn’t his type? Well, that was great because he sure as heck wasn’t my type either. Stupid, boring, law-abiding jerk. He was probably more my grandmother’s type. No doubt if she really got to know him, she’d love him.

So we’d kissed…twice. Yes, he was rather gorgeous. And yes, the moment he’d absorbed my pain, I’d felt something that one could call gratitude. But anything more? No. Of course not. It wasn’t as if I held some delusion that we were going to get married and vacation on the Riviera. After which, I’d shove out two brats and we’d buy a house in the suburbs. In fact, the very thought made me sort of ill.

And now here I was on a train that would take us to the small medieval town where I’d see my cottage for the first time, and once again I was alone because Owen was ignoring me. I pressed my forehead to the cool glass, attempting to decipher the small towns from the dimly lit scenery. The sun was setting, a fiery ball of orange over fields of purple lavender, but the beauty was lost on me. I couldn’t escape the fact that Owen was avoiding me, and it sucked.

“Thé, café, chocolat chaud?” A woman pushing a cart paused next to me.

“I’m sorry.” I shook my head, giving her an apologetic smile. “I don’t speak French.”

“Tea, coffee, or hot chocolate,” Owen said, appearing beside the woman.

He’d changed into gray slacks and a white button-down shirt that contrasted with his dark hair, the most relaxed I’d ever seen him. But he still looked more put together than most guys his age…like he should be featured in World’s Youngest Billionaires.

“Oh.” I straightened, surprised to see him. We’d gotten our own private car, and Owen had disappeared into the small room the moment we stepped foot on the train. While I had been too anxious to sit still and had ended up here. “Hot chocolate.”

“Thé, s’il vous plaît,” Owen said.

Of course he spoke perfect French. And of course he seemed even sexier when he did. I wasn’t surprised; the world was out to torment me. He settled in the chair across from me, a small table with a white tablecloth between us. I could feel his intense scrutiny, but instead of meeting his gaze I smiled up at the woman setting our drinks upon the table. Unfortunately, she was done quickly and left us all too soon.

“How much longer?” I asked, wrapping my hands around my cup. I was anxious to arrive, anxious to see what I owned, and anxious to figure out this new life.

He glanced at his watch. Not a hair was out of place, and his glasses were back on. I had a feeling he hid behind those glasses, attempting to make himself less attractive. Yes, a man like Owen wouldn’t want to be thought of as hot.

“Two hours, maybe.”

I sipped my chocolate, the taste warm and welcome. He fit in here, the sophisticated man that he was. While I, in my jeans and jacket, looked like an orphaned waif. “I’m eager to see this cottage.” Yeah, I was basically making awkward small talk.

He picked up his tea. “We aren’t going to the cottage.”

He said it so casually that it took a moment for the words to sink in. I set my cup down, the bottom clanking hard against the tabletop. “What are you talking about?”

He just sipped his tea again, completely unfazed. “We’re not going to your aunt’s cottage. We never were.”

“But…but you said…”

He settled the cup on his saucer. “I said nothing of the sort. I said we were going to France.”

Frantically I searched my mind, attempting to remember our conversations. Perhaps he was right. Damn. I sank back into my chair and glared at him. “Well, just wonderful. Where, exactly, are we going?”

“To the Consulate.”

It sounded rather stiff and formal, not surprising. “What is that?”

“Where we gather and learn.”

“Like a commune? You going to have me at the airport with a shaved head, while I hand out flowers?”

“You’ll be protected there.”

I leaned forward, attempting to keep the conversation between the two of us. “Protected,” I whispered. “From what, because I still don’t really understand what the heck’s going on.”

“You will soon enough.” He gently pushed his tea away, apparently finished, although I hadn’t even begun. “Come with me.”

He stood, but I remained stubbornly in my chair, confused and leery. Was he actually going to give me answers, or was this some setup? “Why? Where are we going?”

He sighed. “Must you always question everything?”

“Wouldn’t you? Or would you merely trust someone you’d only just met?”

“Touché.” He latched on to my elbow and pulled me to my feet. That close, I could smell his warm scent, and had to resist the urge to sink into him. “Just trust me…this once.”

He led me out of the food car. The halls were empty, most people settling down for bed in their sleeping cars, or at supper in the dining car. The soft light along the halls provided a romantic glow that made me feel as if I were in some sort of artsy foreign movie.

“Owen, what will happen when we reach this Consulate?” I tripped beside him, attempting to keep up with his fast pace. “I mean, who are these people? Where do they come from? Where do you…” I paused, realizing he wasn’t listening to me in the least. I started to reprimand him when I realized his grip was tense, too tense. In my line of work, I’d had to become an expert in body language.

I realized in that moment that I’d missed something. “What’s wrong?”

He slid our keycard across the scanner next to our door. “They’ve found us.”

My heart slammed wildly against my chest. I assumed he didn’t mean Publishers Clearing House. Damn it all, why’d he have to be so casual about things that we should be anything but casual about? It made it really difficult to know when I was supposed to panic. “Who? Another demon?”

“No, not a demon. If it were a demon, you’d know by the screams.”

If all demons looked like the one in my bedroom, I supposed there would be an uproar by now. Oh God, what was it then? “It’s on the train right now?”

“Not it, they.” He pushed open the door. “And yes, they were in the dining car five seats behind you.”

I jerked my arm away from him, unsure if I should be terrified or annoyed. How had I not sensed them? “You knew the entire time we were there?”

“Yes.” He shoved me inside our room, and then closed the door securely behind us. “Here.” He lifted the hem of his shirt. For a moment I was stunned by his muscled abs, wondering what, exactly he wanted me to do. Then I noticed the small gun tucked into the waistband of his pants. He pulled the weapon out and handed it to me. “Won’t kill them, but will stun them.”

I sank onto the bed, staring at the pistol, so small it fit into the palm of my hand. I didn’t know how the heck to use a gun, and wasn’t sure I wanted to know. With my luck, I’d end up shooting myself. “What’s out there? How many?”

He lifted his briefcase, settling it on the bed and flipping open the locks. “Vampires. Two.”

I laughed. “You’re not…you can’t be…” My laughter faded. “Oh God, you’re serious.”

In his briefcase was an arsenal. I’d been expecting boring papers, not pistols, bottles of liquid, knives, stakes. Stakes? Good God, the man was insane.

“Very serious.” He pulled two stakes from the briefcase, all business. “We need to get rid of the threats before the humans notice, and before anyone gets hurt.”

“Owen, this can’t…” I felt the stirrings of panic threatening my sanity. “This can’t be real.” I pressed my fingers to my throbbing head. I never panicked. Not when being chased by irate husbands, not when our father had died, not even when my mother had left and I’d had to figure out how the heck to support Lizzie.

He rested his hand on my lower back. “Shhh. Get in bed, under the covers.”

I jerked away from his touch. “I’m not that kind of girl.”

He sighed. “Just get in bed!”

“Fine, but just to let you know, next time I expect dinner first.” Cradling the pistol to my chest, I slipped underneath the linens and lay upon my side on the small bed. “So,” I whispered over the rumble of wheels over the train tracks. “What exactly are we doing? Getting in a quick nap before battle?”

“Be quiet,” Owen whispered, reaching out and flipping the light switch.

The room went dark, only the occasional flash of lights from the towns we passed lit the space. My breathing sounded harsh to my ears, but Owen didn’t make a sound. Not a word as he slid into the bed, fully clothed, under the covers next to me. His warm body was pressed companionably to mine. A little too intimately. Every muscle of his chest brushed my back, his hard thighs pressed to my legs. Heat shot to my face and I found it suddenly hard to breathe.

Instead of comforting, the close proximity of his body only unnerved me. What the heck was he doing? How was I supposed to relax, or think, or breathe, molded to him? For at least five minutes we lay there, until the entire back side of my body felt like it was on fire. Then there was the slightest sound. So slight, I thought at first that I had imagined the noise. Then it sounded again. A rattle. The door handle. I stilled, holding my breath.

“No,” Owen whispered. “Breathe normally. In, out, slowly.”

I took in a deep breath, and released it. Breathe normally? Yeah, right!

“Close your eyes. Vampires can see in the dark.”

This just kept getting better and better. I squeezed my eyes shut.

“Roll toward me.”

I did as he told me, putting us chest to chest. So close, his warm breath brushed across my forehead. Horrified heat swept up to my cheeks. And I’d thought our kissing had made things awkward. He threw his arm around my waist, pulling me even closer, if that were possible. His heart beat against mine. He wasn’t nervous, he was completely calm, completely professional. I hoped to God that meant he had a plan.

Over the roar of the train over the tracks, I swore I heard the slight squeak of the door being opened. Owen’s arm around my waist tightened. I hadn’t imagined it then. I sucked in a breath, my heart hammering in my chest.

“Calm your heartbeat.”

I would have laughed at his ridiculous request, if I hadn’t known he was being serious. “Why? Can they hear it?”

He didn’t respond.

Oh God. A dull patch of light spread across the wall, the hallway light. I waited, hearing…nothing. No floorboards creaking. No footsteps. No breathing or whispered words. There was no sound at all, yet I knew without a doubt that someone or something was in our room. The minutes ticked by and still Owen didn’t move. Just when I thought perhaps I had imagined the door opening, Owen jumped from the bed, his dark form practically flying through the air.

I bolted upright, pointing the pistol at the two figures lurking in our small room. But I couldn’t see well enough to shoot anyone. How they had made it inside without a sound, I hadn’t the slightest. Owen slammed his fist into one man’s face, sending him into the built-in wardrobe. The other man rushed forward, a blur of movement. He hit Owen with a thud that sent them both crashing into the wall.

“Oh God,” I muttered, leaping from the bed. What to do? I wasn’t used to standing by like some blonde bimbo. I scurried to the side of the room and flipped on the switch. The room burst to light. The two vampires screeched, flinching. They were dressed alike in long, dark coats, and black trousers. While one was blond and the other had dark hair, both were pale as paper. But it was their eyes…black, fathomless eyes that sent a shiver down my spine.

Owen used their momentary distraction to his benefit and tackled the closest one. They fell to the floor with a thud that shook the small room. But the other vampire—the one with blonde hair—met my gaze. A slow smile lifted the corners of his lips. I raised the gun, ignoring the tremble of my arm, and pointed it at his chest.

“Bring it on,” I whispered.

I blinked and he was on me before I had time to pull the trigger. Cold hands gripped my upper arms, crushing the skin and bone in a painful grasp. Crying out, I dropped the pistol. It all happened so fast I barely had time to think. A muscled arm wrapped around my waist and jerked me back against an equally hard chest. He was like a steel statue come to life, unbreakable, unbendable.

“Easy,” the vampire growled in my ear. “And we won’t hurt you, I swear it.”

I gripped his forearm and pushed, trying to lessen the tightness but the beast was too strong. Sparks of light danced along my peripheral vision. I couldn’t breathe. Hell, I was going to pass out. Desperately I sought Owen, who was wrestling with the other vampire. As if sensing my panic, he looked my way. His glasses were gone, his hair mussed, and blood trailed down the corner of his mouth. Unable to do more than gasp, I pleaded for help with my eyes.

Owen lifted his arm and a fireball appeared in the air, hovering over his palm and highlighting the room in an eerie orange glow. “Let her go.”

“And why would we do that?” The vampire Owen had been fighting moved slowly around the bed to stand closer to me and his friend. They were grinning as if they’d already won; perhaps they had. Yet, there was nervousness in their gazes too, as they glanced at the flames. Did they fear fire? It would have been nice if Owen had given me a manual on supernatural beings.

“You know why we want her.” The vampire leaned closer to me and breathed in deeply. “And she smells so delicious. Can you imagine what Matchmaker blood would taste like? No one has ever had it before, you know.”

Wait, I thought they wouldn’t kill me? I stopped struggling long enough to glare at Owen.

He ignored me. “You don’t feed on Matchmakers, so why do you really want her?”

“Maybe our diet has changed.”

“Harm her and I will kill you,” Owen said quite calmly, so calmly that I actually believed him. So calmly that in that moment I knew, if he wanted to, he could easily destroy both of these beings. And in that moment, I realized how I’d once again misjudged him. He might not like me, but he would give his life to protect me. It was his job, and he took his job seriously.

The vampire’s grip tightened, my ribs bending, painfully close to breaking. I bit my lower lip to keep from crying out. I wouldn’t give the bastards the satisfaction.

“What are you doing?” the other vampire hissed. “We don’t want to harm her!”

“You’re talented and you’ve been trained, no doubt,” the vampire holding me said to Owen, ignoring his friend. “But you’re lacking, my boy.”

His friend moved to the windows. “We’ll be kind. We’ll let you go, as long as you let us have the girl.”

Kind? He said the word as if he actually meant it. Why the hell did they want me, if not to suck my blood dry?

He slammed his elbow into the window. The glass shattered, remnants sucked into the dark night. Wind rushed inside, a roar of protest that whipped at my hair and clothing. Hell, they were going to leap out that window, and they were going to take me with them. I needed to pull it together and form a plan fast. They might survive a jump from a speeding train, but I was pretty sure I wouldn’t.

“What say you, Protector? Is she worth your life?”

Owen lifted his hand and tossed the fire straight at the vampire by the window. The ball hit him directly in the chest. The vampire burst into flames like he’d been doused in kerosene. The vampire holding me stumbled back, taking me with him as his friend screamed, the sound feral, raising the fine hairs on the back of my neck. But the man bursting into flames wasn’t the worst of it. Suddenly his skin melted away and burning pieces of flesh fell to the floor, revealing white bone.

“Hell.” The vampire holding me let go, his terror almost tangible.

If I hadn’t been freaked out by the gory scene, I might have been grateful. The bone crumbled into dust and the fire went out with a sizzle. Just like that, the vampire was dead, gone, only a pile of ash remained.

Owen raced toward us. “Emma, move!”

He latched on to my arm and practically tossed me aside. The wooden stake hit the man in the chest as I hit the wall. The vampire cried out, crumpling to the floor, his body convulsing, trembling. Stunned, I slid down the wall, falling to my butt. The staked vamp burst into a pile of ash. We were alone. The only sound was the shrill wind bursting in through the open window, fluttering the curtains and blankets.

“Get your things,” Owen demanded.

He grabbed his briefcase from the floor and shoved the stake inside. I still sat there, too stunned to move. Stunned by the fact that there were actual vampires in the world. Stunned by the fact that Owen was powerful enough to kill them. Stunned by the fact that this was now my life. My life!

The train slowed, the whistle going off.

But mostly I was stunned by the fact that Owen hadn’t left me. He’d stayed and fought. Fought for me. I found his gaze and suddenly he wasn’t just some annoying hot guy, he was a Protector, a man fated to serve the Matchmaker…fated to protect me. Everyone in my life had left me. But Owen wouldn’t…not ever.

He sighed and shoved my carry-on into my hands. “Come on, Emma. Time to go.”

“My luggage,” I muttered weakly, unsure if my legs would hold me. The room was empty. No sign of the vampires. Only two small piles of gray dust stirred by the wind coming in through the broken window. No one would believe me if I told them what had just happened. There was no proof. I released a manic laugh as I stumbled to my feet.

“Leave it. We have to go now.”

The train came to a screeching halt as it approached the next station. He latched on to my hand and jerked me out the door. Silently, I followed him down the empty corridor, my carry-on thumping against my leg. My head swam, my body was numb. As if sensing my confusion, Owen took my carry-on. Cold, I wrapped my arms around my waist. He smiled politely to the assistant who was waiting to help passengers disembark. It felt like forever before the train stopped fully and we were finally able to step onto the platform.

I glanced back. No sign of the otherworldly creatures. Forget snakes on a plane; I had vampires on a train to deal with. I was cold, shivering, although the night breeze had a pleasant warmth. The platform was almost empty, only a few people waiting, the surrounding countryside black. It felt like we were the only two people in the world, but I knew there were more out there. Things I couldn’t see, beings I didn’t even know existed.

“Why’d they want me?” I asked.

Owen led me into the warmth of the station. “I don’t know.”

The station security guard nodded in greeting, but we were already at the front door, headed outside. We moved down the shallow steps to the sidewalk of a town that lay at the bottom of the hill. It was small if the lack of lighting was any indication.

I heard the shrill whistle of the train preparing to depart. I’d never been so eager to be stuck in a town with no transportation. “What’s the truth?” I asked as we started down the sidewalk. “There’s something you aren’t telling me.”

He paused in the middle of the street, the stars overhead twinkling on a velvet sky. For a long moment he merely stared at me. “I don’t think your aunt died naturally. I think someone murdered her.”

The ramifications of his words sank heavily into my gut. “Oh.”

“I don’t know what’s going on. But it’s obvious you have a bounty on your head, Emma. And I’m the only one standing between you and death.”

Chapter 11

Owen

We’d barely spoken since leaving Chicago, and after the major screwup on my part on the train, I had little to discuss. What could I say? That I couldn’t stand to be near her because she made me forget my good intentions? My job? My life? That, because I was so focused on kissing her, I hadn’t sensed the vampires until it was almost too late? Because of my negligence, I could have gotten her killed.

I hadn’t even tried a halfhearted conversation as we trudged down the dark road. Although I knew we were closing the distance, albeit slowly, between us and the Consulate, I felt as if I were standing still. Or maybe I didn’t want to return, a voice inside my mind nagged. I frowned, annoyed. What choice did I have? We were unprotected out here. The demons had wanted her energy, no surprise there. The only surprise was that they had sensed her so quickly. But the vamps hadn’t wanted to kill her, they’d wanted her. For what?

“So,” she said. “I take it that was not exactly our stop?”

We’d been walking for two hours and still had a good five before the sun would rise. I could teletransport to the castle, but to do that I’d have to leave her alone. At this point, I didn’t feel comfortable doing that for even ten minutes, at least not out here in the open. Besides, I wasn’t quite sure who I could trust anymore and if I suddenly appeared, demanding help, there would be a lot of questions. I needed time. Time to give Seb a chance to uncover anything he could. The Underworld shouldn’t have known about her powers yet. Protectors were the first to know, then the Underworld demons. Unless a demon had told the vamps. But since when were demons and bloodsuckers friends? And since when did they collect Matchmakers?

“Okay, seriously, I’m freezing and exhausted. There has to be somewhere we can stay.”

I paused and shrugged off my jacket without even thinking twice. I was pushing her too hard, too fast, but it was for her own safety. Of course if I told her that, she’d just claim that she didn’t need my protection.

She sidestepped my offer. “No. I want to rest. I want something to eat, drink. I want answers, not your jacket.”

But I couldn’t give her answers because I didn’t bloody know. Of course, I wasn’t going to tell her that. “There’s a house over there.” I nodded toward the dark field. “I think it’s abandoned.”

At least I hoped. I started through the field knowing she followed, for I could sense her. Always sensed her whether I wanted to or not. It had never bothered me with her aunt. But with Emma…hell, it was like she was a bloody parasite slowly killing me from the inside.

Above, the sky was dark and clouded. There were no stars to guide me, or tell me the future. Not even the glow from a crescent moon. The house before us began to take shape, a shadowed mansion a couple of hundred years old. It was lived in, but empty. Perhaps a vacation home. I could sense the lack of occupants, the lack of energy.

We climbed up the wide, shallow steps. I could practically hear the echoes of voices from long ago, their energy still here. Not ghosts, but almost impressions like in clay. No weeds grew, and there was no buildup of mail, which meant someone checked on the place from time to time. I bent my arm and used my elbow to break the pane next to the door. The sound of shattering glass sent a flock of sparrows screeching from the field.

“Great, breaking and entering,” Emma muttered.

“Got a better idea?” I reached through the gaping hole and found the lock. No magic here, but within a few seconds I had the door open. I stepped back, and bowed mockingly. “After you.”

I followed her into a large foyer that smelled of dust and age. Definitely empty. Someone might have been keeping up the outside, but no one had been inside in months.

“No lights,” I said as she closed the door. “If there are neighbors nearby, we don’t want them suspicious.”

She moved slowly across the foyer and into the large sitting room with the massive marble fireplace. “Impressive. But would be more so if there was electricity and heating.”

She always had to be a smartarse. “Better than outside.”

I felt guilty the moment I snapped back. Even in the dark I could see the stoop of her shoulders, had noticed the dark circles under her eyes. She was on her last leg. She was still human, and could die and tire like the rest of them.

The fact was I was making small talk, discussing stupid things so I wouldn’t think about the fact that we were alone. Completely alone. Did she realize? I sure as hell did. There was no one here to interrupt us. No grandmothers, no sisters, no demons, no vampires.

“Don’t suppose we can have a fire either,” she muttered.

“No, but I’m sure there are blankets.” Perfect excuse to leave.

I headed up the steps toward the bedrooms, mostly because I needed to get away from her and center my thoughts. I can do this, I told myself as I moved down the hall. I could be her Protector. As soon as I got used to the fact that she was young and attractive, I’d be fine. It was a job. A job I’d been raised to do. I found a large bedroom with a massive four-poster bed, and headed toward the trunk against the far wall.

“Find anything?” Emma appeared in the doorway.

No. Damn it, no. I didn’t want her in the bedroom, didn’t want her anywhere near me. “Yes, actually.” I snatched the blankets from the trunk, shoved them into her hands, and left the room as fast as I could, forcing thoughts of Emma far, far from my mind.

Hell, I was a freaking pervert. I was her Protector, for God’s sake.

“Gee,” she snapped behind me. “Thanks.”

Better she think I was a rude jerk than to know the truth. I moved downstairs to the large windows overlooking the massive lawn. But all the while I was completely aware of Emma.

“Should we check the kitchen?” she asked as she tossed the blankets on the couch.

I nodded. When the owners returned and found the blankets and broken window, they’d know it was merely squatters in the area and most likely wouldn’t bother to report us. As long as we didn’t steal anything other than food.

We moved into the foyer and headed toward the back of the house, assuming the kitchen would be there. We were right. We found a rustic kitchen that hadn’t been remodeled, but it would do. There was no stove and the refrigerator had been turned off. Emma went to the pantry.

“Cookies, and…that’s about it.” She pulled out a box and tossed them to me. “So,” she started as she moved to the sink. “Are you cold? Or do you people not get cold? What are you, anyway? Are you even human?”

I sighed as I set the biscuits down and pulled two glasses from a cupboard. “Yes, we get cold.” Actually, I wasn’t bloody sure what I was. But I was sure I was human, just…with a little extra ability. “I’m as human as you are, I suppose.”

“Oh God, what does that mean? I am human, right?”

Her outrage almost made me laugh.

“Of course you are.” I filled two glasses of water from the faucet and handed her one.

“That’s a relief.”

Cradling the biscuits in one hand and the glass of water in the other, she moved back into the hall. Truth was, even though the woman drove me insane, I liked her, and I liked to be with her.

“I know it’s a shock.”

“Was it a shock to you?” she asked as we moved into the living room.

Bloody great, she was asking more personal questions. I should have known it would happen. She settled at the end of the couch and pulled the blanket over her. She looked like she was settling in for a good night’s story.

I shrugged, feeling more than uneasy. “I suppose.”

I sat at the other end of the sofa. We were facing each other, but in the dark she couldn’t see me and fortunately couldn’t read my expression. I knew she wanted more, but I didn’t know what to say. Her aunt and I had been comfortably silent around each other. She did her thing, and I was merely there in the background to protect.

“You’re from England.”

“Yes.”

“But you live in France?”

“I live wherever my Matchmaker lives. Your aunt happened to be here.”

She grinned, her teeth flashing white in the dark. “So if I move to, say, the Bahamas, you have to move there too?”

“Yes.”

“Fine,” she sighed. “I can manage to stay here a few months a year. Whatever.”

I didn’t bother to respond. Why make her upset?

She released a wry laugh. “Have you always been this serious?”

Had I? “I guess.” One had to be serious when you were homeless half the time, eating at soup kitchens and begging for money on street corners. I drank my water, ignoring the taste of rust and earth. I’d had worse.

Frowning, she opened the box of biscuits. I loved the way her brows drew together, that little furrow above the bridge of her nose when she was perplexed about something. “My aunt…I don’t even know her, and now never will.”

“She was a very strong-willed woman who knew what she wanted. She didn’t think she needed anyone, really. Much like you.”

Seeming almost embarrassed by my comment, as if I shouldn’t notice personal things about her, she lowered her lashes. But I noticed. I noticed everything. I noticed how stubborn she was and how it might be detrimental to her safety. I noticed how tough she acted, but that her left side was weak. If a demon attacked, he’d go after her there. I also noticed that freckle, a tiny spot at the base of her neck. I noticed that her lashes were so very dark, yet tipped with gold. I noticed that when she walked, she almost had a bounce to her step. And I noticed that she constantly noticed everything.

Taking in a deep breath, I forced myself to look away.

“So, you’ve been doing this your entire life?”

“No, actually. I was in foster care until I was ten. After that, they found me and brought me here to train.”

I sensed her compassion and hated it. It’s why I never shared my background. Fortunately, she had good instincts and avoided focus on my childhood. “Found you?”

“Yes. They sensed my power. Sort of like I could sense you. They look for weird things in the news, odd stories about strange children that lead them to a certain country, city. Then they use their powers to find the child. And when the tattoos appeared, they knew for sure.”

She glanced at my arms. “So they just appeared out of thin air?”

“Pretty much.”

“At least you got to avoid the pain. So, you were a weird kid?” She laughed. “Why am I not surprised?”

“As an orphan with no money and glasses, I’d been an easy target, and I’d learned to either fight back, or ignore them. Yeah, I guess I was weird.”

Her smile fell. “Well, that just took the fun out of teasing you.”

I didn’t want her to feel sorry for me. I sure as hell didn’t want her to think of me as some pathetic punching bag. “It’s in the past. It’s over.”

She nodded slowly. “What happened when they found you?”

“It was like a dream come true.”

She sipped her water, then grimaced.

“You need to drink it. It’s clean, just not filtered.”

She nodded and sipped again. “Pretty crappy childhood, huh?”

I shrugged. “They found me, took me in, showed me how to use my powers. They fed me. Taught me how to protect myself. I lived in a bloody castle. Most would think it was a pretty awesome childhood.”

“Yeah, I could see how that would be better than foster care.” She looked at her lap, playing with the edge of the blanket, and shivered. “For me it was the opposite.”

Was she really going to share? Surprised and a little leery of what she would divulge, I waited quietly. I had to admit, I was more than curious.

“Up until around ten, my life was great. Then Dad died, and not so much.”

We lapsed into silence. I knew better than to question her further. Besides, what the hell would I say? So sorry about your dad’s death, have some more shitty water. I wasn’t good with small talk, or emotions. Not that she was showing much emotion.

“They said he killed himself, but I don’t know.”

I took another drink of water. My interest flared. Could Clarice’s death be connected to Emma’s father’s? Doubtful, but it was something to look into. “You don’t think he did?”

“No. I know he didn’t.” She lifted her gaze, as if judging my reaction, daring me to disagree.

“Why?”

“He was happy, there was no indication…” She shook her head. “Dad was carefree. Loved life.” The shimmer of emotion sparkled in her eyes.

I shifted, uneasy. If she cried, I’d have to comfort her and if I touched her, I wouldn’t be able to stop.

“He loved it a bit too much.” She released a harsh laugh. “He left my mom for his freaking secretary. So cliché.” She shook her head. “They decided to take a little trip overseas for their new relationship. She said he felt guilty. She thinks it’s true.”

She was silent for a moment.

“You don’t believe her?”

“No.”

I didn’t know Emma well but she was stubborn, and that could make a person blind. It could have just been her emotions getting in the way. But, I realized with some bemusement, I also trusted her instincts. In fact, more than she did.

“And your mother?”

She sighed. “She relied on my dad a lot. It destroyed her when he left. When he died…” She shook her head. “She went off the deep end. Was out partying like she was sixteen.”

In other words, when Emma should have been the one partying, her mother was. “And she ended up in Florida?”

Flushing, she glanced at me, almost embarrassed. “Yeah. Followed some guy.”

“But you stayed.”

She shrugged. “It was home.”

And she had to take care of her family, and the business. She was more emotional than she let on. It was yet another thing that drew me to her. Every time I thought I had her figured out, she surprised me.

“Lizzie and I stayed with Mom’s dad, our grandfather. He had a PI business, but it didn’t make much. When he died, I decided to go after cheating men to keep the business afloat.”

Her dad cheated, and she made her living catching cheating men? Yeah, I wasn’t going to point out that irony. “And so you and Lizzie stayed?”

“We really had nowhere else to go.” She stared into her cup. “It’s been just me and her for such a long time.”

I could hear the loneliness in her voice. I knew it well. Bloody hell, I didn’t want to be drawn to her, but I was. I wanted to tell her that she wasn’t alone anymore, that I would always be there for her. I couldn’t. “You should sleep.”

“I’m too cold,” she muttered, drawing the blanket closer. “I thought it was spring?”

“A bit different than spring where you’re from.” But she didn’t look appeased. She needed rest more than anything. I sighed, knowing what I had to do. “Come here.”

She glanced at me warily. I grew annoyed. What did she think…I was going to attack her? I reached under the blanket, wrapped my hand around her ankle, and tugged. She slid down the couch.

“Hey!”

“Just trust me.” I latched on to her arm before she could jump back to her side of the couch, and pulled her close. She fell into me, her warm body pressed closely to mine. Hell, maybe this was a mistake. So, why did I wrap my arms around her waist and hold her close? “Stop struggling.”

She paused and glared at me.

“Just stay still for a minute, okay?”

She frowned, but didn’t move. Thank God. Soon enough, I felt my body grow heated…unnaturally so.

“Oh, wow.” She snuggled closer to me. “You’re so warm.”

“I can control my temperature to an extent.”

She laughed, delighted. “Amazing.”

I gritted my teeth, trying to resist the attraction that surged through my body. Her soft hair tickled my face; her scent killed me. Taking in a deep breath, I stared at the ceiling, counting the water stains. We were silent for a moment. It should have been weird, lying there pressed together. Instead…bloody hell, it felt right. Too right. I closed my eyes. For the first time in days, my body relaxed. There was just something right about having her curled into me. I should have known it wouldn’t last.

“Owen?”

“Hmm?”

“If you could warm me,” she whispered, docile now. “Why didn’t you do it before?”

I opened my eyes and stared at the shadowed ceiling. Shite, how to respond? “I didn’t realize you were that cold.”

“Liar.” She tilted her head back and looked into my eyes. “Why, Owen?”

I loved how she said my name, a breathless sound. For some reason, when she looked at me like that, I couldn’t lie. “Because…because I didn’t want to touch you.”

She frowned, pushing against my chest and sitting up, obviously offended. Her absence left me cold. “You hate me that much?”

“No.” I shoved aside the blanket and stumbled to my feet. I couldn’t be this close to her. I couldn’t think, and if I couldn’t think, I might say something I didn’t want to admit, shouldn’t admit. I stood with my back to her, trying to regain control.

“Then why?” she demanded. “Come on, Owen, just be honest with me for once. I’m so sick of people lying!”

I closed my eyes briefly and swallowed hard. Why couldn’t she have let it go? Why? Because she was so bloody stubborn. Fine, she wanted answers, she’d get answers. “Because if I touched you, I knew I’d do this.”

I spun around, latched on to her arms and jerked her forward. My lips found hers in a kiss that stole the air from my lungs. I meant it to be a quick kiss, but when she molded against me, sinking into my body, I knew it was going to be anything but quick. She slid her hands up my chest and around my neck, and…shite…she was kissing me back. I couldn’t deny it, we had some weird connection neither of us seemed able to control. Didn’t want to control. My hands went around her, gripping her tightly to me. Things were getting out of hand really fast and I knew it was a mistake the moment it happened.

Mistake, it’s a bloody mistake, I repeated to myself.

With all the strength I had, I pulled away from her, stumbling back. For one long moment, we merely stood there staring at each other, our breathing harsh in the quiet house. Finally, I managed to move toward the windows, putting much-needed distance between us. It didn’t help. I had a feeling nothing would help.

“Get some sleep,” I said gruffly.

Coward that I was, I couldn’t talk to her anymore. No further sharing. No intimate secrets. Instead, I paced in front of the windows. I knew she was too stunned to speak about what had happened, and I was too damn confused.

I could not—I would not—fall in love with my Matchmaker.

If I did, we would both pay…with our lives.

Chapter 12

Emma

“Merci,” Owen said as we stepped from a car driven by some older Frenchman I’m pretty sure was a serial killer, if the way he leered at me was any indication.

But hey, I’d take my chances with a serial killer if it meant I didn’t have to walk. My feet were killing me from last night’s jaunt through the French countryside, and even though I should have been shocked by the incident with the vampires, I was more confused by Owen’s kiss. You knew your life was screwy when you were more concerned with your feelings for a guy, than the fact you were being stalked by demons.

“Here it is,” Owen said as the car drove away, leaving us on a cobbled street on the outskirts of a stereotypical European town.

“Holy Medieval Times,” I whispered.

Stone walls surrounded the ancient French city of Protéger. I knew the name of the city meant “protect,” which to the normal person would make sense. The walls were built to protect the town from attack way back during the 1500s. But I knew it had a deeper meaning. The walls were here to protect people like me from things that attacked in the night. Things that terrified little children, but no one truly believed were real. Things I hadn’t believed were real…until now.

The streets were teeming with tourists, the city thriving with people eating at small cafés and browsing in quaint shops, completely unaware of the reality in which they resided. The tap of our shoes echoing against stone buildings was lost in the excited pulse of an active town. The sun was brilliant and warm overhead, shimmering off the stone road and the buildings packed tightly together. In the air was the scent of freshly baked bread and other spices I recognized, but didn’t know. It was heaven…or at least my definition of heaven.

“Try not to touch anyone,” Owen said softly.

Easier said than done, but I knew he didn’t want me to have a flash at the moment, and frankly, I didn’t want to have one either. Keeping close to him, I focused on my surroundings. I could sense the history of the place, feel it in my bones as if the stone walls were a very part of my being. This is what I’d wanted to experience, and in a way I was glad we were here.

But as excited as I was to be in France, I couldn’t ignore the danger that loomed around me, hovering above like evil flying monkeys. Evening would be here soon and with dusk, according to Owen, came the monsters. I felt Owen beside me, felt his strength and warmth even though we didn’t touch. As much as I didn’t want to rely on him, I was growing used to his comforting presence.

We made it through the city and to the outskirts of town without my brushing against anyone. “So, where are we going?”

He nodded toward a road that curled its way up the hill ahead. “See that large building?”

At the top of that steep road, I could just make out the peaks of a massive gray castle. “Yeah.”

“That’s the Consulate.”

I paused next to a bakery shop, stunned. “I’m going to live there?”

He nodded as if it were no big deal.

“I’m going to live in a castle?”

“It was actually more of a fortress.” He watched me warily, as if he didn’t understand why I was shocked. “But yeah, you are living there. They aren’t as great as you’d think. Drafty, cold water, leaky pipes.”

“A castle?” Lizzie would freaking die. I had to send her a picture ASAP. I pulled my cell from my back pocket, intending to send her a photo.

Owen sighed. “We need to go. They’re coming.”

He started down a narrow street, leaving me behind.

“Wait…what?” I clicked a quick, blurry picture and raced after him, shoving the phone back into my pocket. He didn’t sound anxious or worried about whoever they were. But then why were we hurrying? So far, the visitors who’d come calling hadn’t exactly been welcome. “They? Should we be nervous?”

“Of course not. They’re the Consulate.”

Okay, so why then did I get a feeling he wasn’t so excited to be back? The soft rumble of an engine interrupted the noise of town. Owen paused where two roads intersected, so I did too. A black car with tinted windows came around the corner and slowed.

“What is this, a Men in Black movie?”

Owen reached out and opened the back door. “Get in.”

I didn’t question him; I was too freaking tired. Besides, whether I wanted to or not, I trusted him. I slid inside, sinking onto the soft leather seats. Owen followed. The man driving didn’t say a word, merely took off through the narrow streets, weaving his way up the steep road toward that imposing castle. How he’d known we’d arrived, I hadn’t a clue.

“Are you all right?” Owen asked.

“Yeah, of course.”

Of course I wasn’t all right. How could I be? I was moving into a freaking castle with a bunch of strangers. It was like the medieval version of The Bachelorette, except in the finale I’d end up with a soul-sucking demon instead of a bachelor. Okay, maybe it was exactly like the show.

“Emma, you’re trembling.”

I laughed, a hysterical bubble of laughter I couldn’t quite contain. “Of course I’m not!”

The driver flicked a glance toward us in the rearview mirror. His eyes said it all…That girl is crazy. Okay, embarrassing. I never, ever showed my emotions in public. But somehow within the last week, I’d lost sense of who I was. I remained silent. I wasn’t about to spew my feelings for the driver’s entertainment, and I already looked weak enough in front of Owen. But shock of all shockers, I suddenly felt his fingers wrap around mine. I glanced at our entwined hands, not daring to move, barely breathing. Was he actually offering me comfort?

In the space of a week I’d discovered I had magical powers, and that not only were there demons, but also vampires. Oh, and to top it off, I’d been almost killed twice. But the most shocking thing of all was how I suddenly felt about Owen. Or maybe I’d always felt this way about him. I hadn’t needed anyone in my seventeen years. No, I’d spent most of my life needing no one.

“You’ll be safe here.”

“Of course.”

I closed my eyes and leaned my head back against the seat, but didn’t pull my hand away. No, instead I sat there, acutely aware of every second that passed while his palm was pressed to mine. I focused on the warmth of his touch, his fingers—long and strong—wrapped around mine. Maybe it was my imagination but I swore as I focused on Owen, the pain in my head eased either because he was taking my ache, or because his touch was a comfort I desperately needed.

I was growing way too used to having Owen around. And what would happen if I lost him? If he left? Hell, I’d practically raised and supported myself and my sister. But this…fighting demons and vampires? For this I feared I needed Owen, and damn it all, I didn’t want to.

“You will be safe, Emma,” he said softly.

I opened my eyes and stared into his green gaze. For some reason, I believed him.

The car slowed in front of a set of iron gates. My heart skipped a beat before breaking into a gallop. The large stone castle loomed on the crest above us, overlooking the city below. It was even more impressive close up.

“You’ve got to be freaking kidding me,” I whispered.

“No,” Owen replied quite seriously. “It’s real. It’s where we meet and where many of us reside.”

The gates opened automatically. I briefly wondered if it was electronics or magic that made them move. Just the fact that I was wondering if magic was involved had me shaking my head. “Us? You mean Protectors?”

The car drove through the gates, up a drive that curved toward the massive front door. “Yes, Protectors and some of the Matchmakers too.”

The driver parked the car beside a set of shallow steps.

“How many Matchmakers live here?”

“Not many,” Owen said, letting go of my hand. “Only a few. But there are other beings outside these walls, throughout the entire world.” He pushed the door wide and stepped outside.

“Other beings? What the heck does that mean?” I slid across the seat and followed. This close, the castle was even larger than I’d realized. The building felt almost alive, threatening in some way.

He shrugged. “What you would call magical people, what we call Otherworldly.”

The driver took off, following the drive and disappearing around the fortress toward what I assumed was some cave where they parked the Batmobile. Frowning, I studied the many dark windows above. No flicker of curtains, or any indication of movement. With that many people, the place should have been thrumming. But it was quiet, so quiet.

“So,” I said. “Only Matchmakers and Protectors inside?”

He started up the stairs. “Yes.” He pushed open the large door, the hinges squeaking in protest. “You coming?”

As if I had a choice. I moved hesitantly up the steps, only to pause on the threshold. Inside, the foyer was rich and inviting…a home, not the depressing dungeon I’d been imagining. White walls contrasted against dark floorboards that were polished and shiny, while a golden chandelier hung above, giving the area a warmth I wouldn’t have expected. A wide staircase curved up to a second floor.

“I could get used to living here,” I mumbled.

Owen shrugged, completely indifferent to the wealth surrounding us. “It has its benefits.”

Beyond in the rooms on either side I could see people standing around fireplaces, books in hand. Some sat in leather chairs, chatting. A few looked our way, curiosity in their gazes.

“I’ll take you to your bedroom, but first we have to deal with the Consulate.”

“Oh, goodie,” I muttered.

Owen gave a few people a nod of acknowledgment as he cupped my elbow and we started down the hall, but there were no cheerful greetings as if between friends.

He hadn’t even introduced me to anyone. Heck, maybe they weren’t close. Or maybe he wanted to get rid of me so he could complain to his friends in private. “What’s the hurry?”

Was he afraid I’d bolt? I couldn’t deny that I was thinking about it. No chance of showering, changing clothes; it was right into battle. I suddenly felt trapped. We turned a corner and started down yet another hall, this one windowless and darker. Even in the depths of the bowels they spared no expense; the same polished floors and pristine white walls ran throughout the place.

Owen released his hold as we paused in front of a wide set of double doors. “They didn’t exactly know you existed.”

I tensed. “What do you mean?”

“I mean when I sensed you, I didn’t tell them. I didn’t exactly get permission to leave.”

Permission? He had to have permission to leave? Did that mean I had to have permission as well? “What exactly are you talking about?”

“Owen?” Someone came rushing breathlessly down the corridor. “Where have you been?”

The beautiful brunette didn’t pause but hurled herself at him, throwing her arms around his neck. So he did have friends. He caught her, his arms wrapping around her narrow waist in a hug. I wouldn’t admit it out loud, even under torture, but yeah, my jealousy flared to life.

She stepped back, her hands cupping his face while his grip remained on her waist. “Everyone has been wondering what happened to you!”

Great, she even had a sexy Spanish accent. Better and better. Who the hell was she? Some groupie with a crush?

Owen slid me a glance. I folded my arms across my chest and quirked a brow. Yep, still here, buddy, and still watching. God, I wasn’t sure whether to be amused or angered.

“Pet, this is Emma, my new Matchmaker.”

Pet? As in she was his little pet? How disgustingly adorable, and I was pretty sure sexist. She glanced at me with disinterest, then did a double take. “Oh.” Her baby blue eyes blinked wide. “It’s…nice to meet you.”

She couldn’t hide her shock, not from me, someone trained to notice everything. “Yeah, nice to meet you too.”

“Sorry.” She flushed. “I just wasn’t expecting a Matchmaker, and not one so…young.”

I didn’t have time to contemplate her odd reaction.

“We have to go,” Owen interrupted, untangling himself from her arms, much to my relief. “They’re waiting.”

“Of course.” I didn’t miss the way her hand lingered on his bicep. Good God, could the girl not take a hint? “I’ll see you later?”

I stiffened. No freaking way! See you later? As in they saw each other often? I had the sick feeling that this wasn’t some crush, but something more two-sided. Was he seriously dating her?

He rubbed the back of his neck. I knew him well enough by now to know he felt uneasy. Uneasy because she made him uneasy, or uneasy because he’d been caught?

“Yes. Sure. See you later.”

Appeased, she turned and sashayed away, disappearing around the corner and leaving behind a trail of perfume.

“Who—”

“Come on, they’re waiting.” Owen quickly pushed the double doors wide and stepped aside. Talk about avoidance. “Ready?”

Of course he was rushing me into the room on purpose. I couldn’t believe it, but I shouldn’t have been surprised. He’d kissed me just last night. Hell. I couldn’t let it go. “You have a girlfriend?”

I was barely aware of the huge auditorium with tiers of seats that descended toward a dais at the bottom. Nothing like feeling like a gladiator headed toward battle. But none of that mattered because suddenly the most important answer for me to uncover was whether Owen was taken.

He frowned. “No. Not at all. She’s…”

What? I wanted to say, but didn’t have time.

“You’ve arrived,” a voice boomed.

I narrowed my eyes, attempting to see the face of the guy who stood at the bottom of the room. An older man in a long robe, wizard-style like Jotham. Behind him was a dais where five other adults sat, three men, two women, all watching me with expressionless faces. Holy hell, they hadn’t been there just a few seconds ago when we’d first entered. I was sure of it. Owen’s love life was all but forgotten.

“Yes, my lord,” Owen replied, taking hold of my upper arm and dragging me down the stairs. Annoyed and tired of being led around like a child, I jerked away from him. Fortunately those seats that spread across the coliseum were empty. I couldn’t imagine what it would be like to enter this place with an audience.

The man’s gaze drifted to mine. “Ms. Watts, I presume? Please, come in. Do sit.” He waved a long, pale hand toward the end of the table where there was a vacant chair.

So that was it then? This was the Consulate? I admit I was a bit underwhelmed by them…a bunch of old men and women in robes. Still, there was something intimidating about the entire situation. Unwillingly, I moved toward the chair. They just sat there silently, watchful, as if they’d expected me all along when Owen had said they hadn’t even known about my existence.

I settled at the end of the long table, feeling as if I were on trial. Maybe I was. The torches that burned around the room only added to the eeriness of the entire situation. Didn’t they have electricity? And Owen…he was of no help. He merely stood in the shadows, ignoring me.

“You left without word, Owen. You broke the rules.”

“Excellent start,” I muttered softly, glaring at him. Why hadn’t he told them? What was the big secret? Now I had a feeling I’d have to pay for his lapse.

He slid me a glance. I’d spoken low, but he’d heard. “It came suddenly, my lord.”

“And you couldn’t send word?” the man replied calmly, too calmly.

“I have questions,” I interrupted, before a fight broke out. Yeah, I was saving his butt, but I was also interested in the truth. “And I’ve been told you can answer them.”

The man slid Owen a glance, a glance I knew too well. They assumed I was going to be trouble. I wasn’t supposed to speak my mind. Awesome. Apparently when we’d flown here, we’d also flown back to a time before women had rights. Well, I wouldn’t be difficult, as long as they responded to my questions. I rested my hands on the arms of the chair, drumming my fingers as I waited impatiently.

“Emma, my name is Lord Falconer. The High Consulate.”

I had to bite back my laugh. Seriously? That could not be his real name. But yeah…apparently it was so. “Nice to meet you.”

“And of course, please, ask away.” The man smiled at me. Even from where I sat, a mile away, I could tell his smile wasn’t real. It didn’t quite reach his cold eyes. They were humoring me, testing the waters to see just how far they could push me before I’d fold like a good little girl.

I smiled back. Let them think they were in control. “I’m a Matchmaker.”

He nodded slowly. “Yes, that is what we call your kind.”

“My kind. What is exactly my kind? I mean, how did we come about?”

“Eternities ago Cupid mated with a human. Your line descends from that mating.”

I laughed. I couldn’t help myself, it was just so ridiculous. Yep, that’s me…totally inappropriate. I supposed I should have been able to believe in Cupid. Why not? I’d seen vampires and demons, for God’s sake.

The Consulate didn’t look impressed by my laughter. Didn’t really look offended either. They were rather robotic, and I was starting to understand where Owen got his lack of emotions.

“I’m sorry,” I said, although I didn’t mean it. “It’s just rather hard to believe.”

“As punishment, every Matchmaker now lives in servitude, finding soul mates for others.”

Wow, wait. Punishment? I was being punished for something that had happened over a thousand years ago?

“So this is my punishment?” I sent a glare toward Owen. He’d made it sound like it was an honored position. The liar. And he’d said I was human, but was I? “And him?” I jerked my thumb toward Owen. “What about him? Why’s he being punished?”

“When your kind was punished, the gods realized the importance of your position.” Falconer started toward me. “Athena, feeling sorry for your kind, produced the Protectors, to help protect you.”

“Protect me from what?”

He paused halfway to me, his hands clasped behind his back. “There are certain Underworld beings who do not wish to see humans thrive, they see your kind as mere vessels of energy to use at their disposal. Love makes humans powerful, which means they can fight back.”

“Underworld beings. You mean vampires? Demons? What else is there?”

He gave me a soft smile. “Whatever you can imagine, my dear.”

Oh God, I had a really great imagination. This wasn’t good.

His gaze left me and he focused on Owen. “Any threat from the outside world?”

Owen paused and I could tell he was weighing his options. He obviously didn’t trust these people; should I? “Yes. Two demons in the States and vampires here.”

A soft murmur of voices erupted around the table. Finally, they were showing some emotion, although I wasn’t sure I liked their looks of shock. I couldn’t hear what they were saying, but Owen’s response had surprised and unnerved them.

“Owen, you may retire. I will escort Ms. Watts to her room when we are finished.”

My heart dropped and my gaze jumped to him. Why I felt like he was abandoning me, I wasn’t sure.

Owen didn’t move, his gaze unflinchingly on Falconer, and I realized in that moment that he was going to decline, and then he’d probably be punished in some way.

“Owen.” There was censorship in Falconer’s voice.

I surged to my feet. “Wonderful, I’d love a tour.”

Owen’s gaze slid to me. For one long, tense moment we didn’t speak. I read the look in his eyes; he wanted me to behave, but there was something more too…he was worried about me. I barely had time to understand the emotion coming from him when he finally bowed, gave me one last glance, then turned and started up the steps, fading into the shadows.

Reluctantly, I returned my attention to the table, but the others were gone. No one but Falconer remained. They’d just…disappeared.

Falconer moved around the table and toward the far end of the platform. “If you want answers, you’ll follow me.” He waved his hand in front of the wall and a panel slid back, revealing a room of some sort. “Come along, Emma.”

I didn’t want to go with him, I wanted to chase after Owen and demand to know why he’d just dumped me. I wanted to know if Pet really was his girlfriend. But with Owen gone, I had no real choice and followed Falconer into that room.

At the threshold I froze. Holy hell. It wasn’t just a room. No, the area was as large as the coliseum, but this one had rows and rows of shelves full of books.

“Where are we?” I whispered.

“The library, of course.” He smiled kindly at me, and I could sense his pride. He ruled here, and he loved it.

When he started walking, I followed, our footsteps echoing eerily throughout the room. It was quiet…so quiet. There was no one else that I could see as I peeked down the dark aisles.

“Knowledge, Ms. Watts. Everything you’ve ever wanted to know about your kind. About the past. About Protectors. About everything and anything.”

My heart slammed against my chest, beating erratically. Even if I didn’t quite understand the importance, my body did. I never knew so many books could exist. “And they’re all about love?”

He chuckled. “Not just love, but many are. Without love, my dear, the world falls into chaos. It is the only emotion that ties us all together as human beings. Real, true love. Not obsession or lust, as so many experience.”

I’d never spoken about love with so many males. It was…odd. Did they really believe all this romantic crap? I’m sure Lizzie would be falling all over herself with giddiness, but it just made me uncomfortable.

“It is up to you to keep that love flowing.”

Wow, nothing like feeling the pressure. I drew my fingers across the leather binding of a book written in Latin. “How?”

He rested his hand on my shoulder, as if he were speaking to a child. “By making your matches.”

“How do I know who needs this love?” I raked my hands through my hair, feeling confused and exasperated. “Do I merely touch them? There was a man in a coffee house, and I touched him—”

“They must be ready, of course, and many humans are not quite ready for their true love. They are too needy, too desperate for affection. Ironically enough, it is only when you are comfortable being alone that most find their soul mate. But yes, if they are ready, or ripe, as we say,” he laughed, obviously finding himself quite clever. “Then it only takes a touch. Once you’ve touched a person, the attraction will not let go. Their love will drive you mad until you match them.”

“And if I don’t want these powers?” I dared to ask.

He pulled back and frowned, as if startled by the question. “I’m afraid only your death can release you, my dear.”

Great, just freaking great. So I’d have to touch people I didn’t know, have to speak with them, force them into matches with significant others they didn’t even realize existed. It was insane, and the fact that I’d been making a living by breaking up people wasn’t lost on me. Oh, the irony.

But I could handle it. I could handle anything short-term. Soon I’d get used to my powers, learn not to touch people, although I wouldn’t admit that much to Falconer. I supposed I could handle all of this for now. As soon as I got answers, as soon as I was ready to stand on my own, I was out of here.

We turned and started back toward the door. “Once I get used to my powers, will it be safe to return home? There isn’t any reason why I can’t match in Michigan, right?”

Apparently I’d startled Falconer again, for he paused and looked at me like I’d just told an inappropriate joke. “My dear, this is your life now. I’m afraid you can never return home.”

I stiffened. Owen had said he’d live where I lived, which I took to mean I could live anywhere. “But…never?”

He shook his head. “Never.”

Chapter 13

Owen

She was angry. I could sense her ire pulsing through the castle like a storm about to explode, and I knew why. Falconer had told her the truth. I’d already had my chat with the man, who had reprimanded me for leaving without permission, and he’d explained Emma’s surprise.

I’d known what she thought, but I’d put off telling her the truth hoping she would grow to appreciate the place. Still, there was only so much guilt I felt, for everything had been done for her own safety. Besides, as much as she couldn’t seem to get it, matchmaking wasn’t about her. This was about the greater good.

I appeared in the training room, a large gym with mats, and leaned against a marble column. It’s not like I’d been avoiding her, I’d had people to meet with, ruffled feathers to smooth. I crossed my arms over my chest, partially hidden from view as Emma paced the large training room. I hadn’t seen her in three days, but it felt like a bloody month. I’d hated leaving her with Falconer as he’d escorted her about the castle, but I’d also needed to talk to Jotham and Seb. Unfortunately, speaking with them had led to nowhere; they knew about as much as me.

Something wasn’t adding up here. How had the demons known about Emma before me? Had someone betrayed us? Hell, I was suspicious of even the Consulate. But then I’d been taught to protect her, to look for any threat, be suspicious of everything. Perhaps it was just that…a reaction to my training.

“Nice, but this time keep your elbow higher.” Josh strolled the mat, his gaze pinned to Emma. They walked in a circle, facing each other like dance partners. I frowned, annoyed. What were they doing?

Petunia suddenly appeared next to me, the slightest whisper in the air indicating her arrival; I knew her energy well. “Josh is training your Matchmaker?”

As if on cue, Emma smiled at Josh, a flirty, teasing smile, a smile she’d never given me. A smile that made my gut clench. They were certainly having a bloody grand time.

“No. Of course not, he knows better.”

Emma lifted her arm higher, the saber an extension of her hand. She looked elegant, even though she wore jeans and a gray fitted T-shirt. Then again, she could be wearing a burlap sack and my body would still react.

Josh merely looked like a cocky bastard in his white fencing gear. “You ready?”

She nodded.

I frowned. Ready for what?

Josh moved forward.

Hell, the man couldn’t be serious? I shoved away from the wall, my body stiff with outrage. Never had I even heard of another Protector training, or even socializing, with a Matchmaker who wasn’t his.

“You sure?” Pet said. “Looks like he’s training her to me.”

Even as I realized how irrational my emotions were, I couldn’t seem to stop the anger from coursing through my body.

“There you go,” Josh encouraged, swiping the sword toward her, just barely missing Emma’s stomach. Good God, the woman was accident-prone enough as it was; they didn’t need to bring weapons into the situation. My anger grew. I didn’t know what the hell they were doing, but I’d had enough.

Hands fisted, I stalked toward them. “Josh,” I snapped.

Josh paused, obviously startled. “Owen, how are you? I was just showing Emma some training moves.”

Of course he was, the bloody bastard. “Perhaps it would be best to train your own Matchmaker.”

Josh’s smile grew tight. He was attracted to Emma; I could see it in the way he stood, could see it in his gaze. His Matchmaker was a woman in her nineties, and Emma was…well, Emma.

He saluted me with his saber. “She asked for help, and I obliged.”

“Maybe if I didn’t feel so ill-prepared,” Emma said, turning an icy gaze toward me. “I wouldn’t have to ask for training.”

“It’s rude to train with another Protector,” Pet said. She was coming to my defense, but it didn’t help. If anything, the flush in Emma’s cheeks told me Pet’s interference had only made her angrier.

“And if your trainer is MIA? What does one do then?” Emma snapped. “Sit around and wait for some freaking vampire to attack and pray for the best?”

“You wish to train? Fine.” I shrugged off my jacket and tossed it to the ground. With my gaze pinned to her, I rolled up the sleeves of my white shirt. Why I was so furious, I wasn’t quite sure. Maybe because I’d been busting my arse to keep her safe and instead of being grateful, she was flirting with Josh. I turned my gaze to the man. “Josh, I’m sure you don’t mind.”

Josh tossed me the foil. “Not at all.”

“You don’t have to do this, Owen,” Petunia whispered. “Come on, let’s just go.”

She reached for my arm, but I brushed past her. For not the first time in my life, I truly felt the urge to hit another man. Since coming to the Consulate, I’d fought many times, but there had been no passion behind it. The punches I threw had merely been part of the job. But now…hell, I felt that scrawny street kid clawing his way to the surface. Josh must have sensed my annoyance for he moved back, out of arm’s reach.

I tightened my grip around the hilt and lifted the foil.

“Try to keep up,” she said, her gaze hard and biting.

I bowed low, then lifted the sword. With her gaze pinned to mine, she found her first stance. I knew in that moment she had fenced before. I was surprised, when I shouldn’t have been. Nothing the woman did should have surprised me anymore.

She advanced first, but then I knew she would. Yes, she was impatient. It was yet another weakness. I easily counterstroked, forcing her back a step. Her eyes took on a determined glint. Surprisingly, she spun around and swiped wide, barely missing me. I lunged back just in time.

From the sidelines, Josh chuckled. “You’ve got a match all right, Owen.”

Resisting the urge to curse at the man, I focused on Emma. Her eyes were sparkling with determination and success. She thought she’d won. I’d show her just how quickly the tide could turn.

I thrust toward her, but she came up to block the stroke, and our swords clanged together. “Where did you learn?”

“Gym class. One semester.”

I stepped closer, closer, forcing her back toward the wall. One semester my arse. She was good, but not as good as I was. I’d been fencing since I was a child. She stumbled, lifting her sword to block my strike but I didn’t relent. I forced her back until she hit the wall. The surprise upon her face was priceless. She lifted her sword, our blades clashing. Closer, I stepped, those crossed blades the only thing standing between us. So close, my breath stirred the loose tendrils around her flushed face.

“It would be wrong to underestimate me, Emma,” I said softly, just loud enough for her to hear.

She didn’t respond. I’d finally left her speechless, and for one long moment I merely stared at her, savoring the moment. Forgotten was the room, Josh, Petunia, and our argument. Only we existed, the emotion and heat between us.

“Well done,” Josh called out, interrupting. “Well done, indeed.”

I stepped back. Emma remained pinned to the wall, a look of confusion in her eyes. She felt the emotions, everything I felt, and she understood it as little as I did. I turned and tossed the foil to Josh, who caught it easily.

“Shall we, Emma?” Josh said. “I promise to go much easier on you.”

I didn’t wait to hear her response, but started across the room, leaving behind my jacket and my ward. I couldn’t stand there and watch them flirt; I might actually have to hurt Josh. I heard their swords clang together, knew they would continue to practice. I was easily forgotten as she’d moved on to her next victim.

“You showed her,” Petunia said with a grin. She’d picked up my coat and stood there holding it out, daring me to take it. She was right, I’d won, but I no longer felt any sense of victory. I started to reach for the jacket when a sudden sharp pain ripped across my bicep.

I stumbled.

Emma. She’d been hurt.

“Owen?” Pet frowned. “You okay?”

In a blink I disappeared. The world went black for a moment. Then light burst to life as I reappeared on the mat, directly in front of Emma.

“Owen?” Her wide gaze found me. “Tell me you didn’t just appear out of thin air.”

I ignored her question and focused on her arm that she was cradling to her chest. The brief sting I’d experienced was gone. But it was obvious her pain wasn’t. “What happened?”

“You can teletransport?” she demanded.

“Emma, you’re hurt. Can we please focus on that for a moment?” I glanced behind her to see Josh standing there, looking pale and unsure, a fencing sword in hand.

“What the hell happened?”

“I…I was just trying to help.”

Idiot. “Damn it, Emma.”

I latched on to the sleeve of her shirt and yanked it up. A red line marked her perfect pale skin. Blood dripped down her forearm and splattered to the mat. The sight made me sick, and angry. My hands trembled as I rested my fingers on her arm.

“I’m fine. It’s just a small cut.”

“A small cut? So small that I felt the sting all the way across the room?”

“Owen,” Petunia said, pausing beside us. “You felt her pain?”

I didn’t respond. It was none of her damn business.

“It’s fine,” Emma said. “It’s no big deal.”

I hadn’t meant to admit I could feel her pain, but the words had slipped out. Hell, I didn’t need Petunia uncovering the bond I had with Emma. “When you put your life in danger, you’re not the only one who could get hurt.”

“Of course.” She pushed me away and shoved the sleeve back down. She looked upset, although why, I wasn’t sure. Damn, I wished I could read her thoughts.

“Can you heal her?” Josh asked.

“We aren’t supposed to,” Pet said, annoyed. “Not with minor things, you know that.”

“I don’t need him to heal me,” Emma snapped. She spun around on her sneakers and started for the door. “It’s a little scratch. It will heal.”

She slammed the door behind her.

“I’m sorry, Owen,” Josh said. “She begged me to train her. Said if she had to be stuck here, she should at least know how to protect herself.”

Yes, right. I knew it was more than that. Josh couldn’t resist a pretty girl. I glanced at the door where she’d disappeared. Besides, Emma would never beg anyone for anything. “She’s angry.”

“She’ll be fine,” Petunia said.

Josh laughed. “Well, yeah, she’s angry. You basically said the only reason you don’t want her injured is because you don’t want to feel her pain, not because you actually care.”

I flushed, annoyed. “I didn’t.”

Josh shrugged. “Women are difficult, Owen. I forgot that you didn’t have much of a childhood.” Josh placed the foil in the bag. He hadn’t been found until he was eighteen. He’d had a childhood. I had been ten. I knew I couldn’t read humans well, especially females, but I sure as hell wouldn’t admit as much to Josh.

“Just apologize. Believe me, it’s the easiest way.”

“Why should he?” Pet pouted, crossing her arms over her chest. “He didn’t do anything wrong.”

Ignoring them, I disappeared. We couldn’t go on this way; I had to make peace with Emma. I reappeared in Emma’s bedroom.

“Crap!” Emma cried out. I turned to face her. She was clutching a robe to her body. I had the sinking feeling she wasn’t wearing much behind that robe. “Dang it, Owen. You can’t just appear in my bedroom. Ever heard of boundaries?”

“I didn’t mean…” I paused, rubbing the back of my neck, not sure what to say, afraid I’d make things worse.

She sighed and quickly pulled her robe on, giving me a flash of a camisole and pink underwear. “Just forget it. Leave me alone.”

How I wished I could. But I couldn’t. I was stuck with her, stuck with the feelings she produced. “I didn’t mean that I don’t want you to get hurt.”

“I know,” she said, tightening the belt of her robe.

“No.” I raked my fingers through my hair. I might not have known much, but I knew women were bloody difficult. You couldn’t just say what you meant, because somehow they always took offense. “I mean I don’t want you to get hurt because I don’t want to hurt.”

Her brows drew together. “What?”

Hell. I wasn’t even sure what I was trying to say anymore. “I don’t want you hurt because I care, okay?”

The surprise upon her face quickly fled. A slow smile spread across her lips. More of a smirk, really. I had to resist the urge to step back. “Owen, are you saying you like me?”

I frowned.

Her grin widened.

I crossed my arms over my chest. “Perhaps at times I don’t dislike you.”

She quirked a brow and crossed her arms, matching my stance.

“I’m your Protector,” I started. “It’s my duty…”

She rolled her eyes.

I nodded toward the bed. “Just lie down.”

“Wow, you expect a lot for a compliment.”

I frowned. It was her way of dealing with her emotions, to joke. At times it was useful, but sometimes, like now, I wished she’d be serious and own up to her feelings. “I want to heal you.”

“No.” She shook her head. Her grip on the robe tightened. “I won’t have you take my pain. It’s not right.”

Not right? What did this have to do with right or wrong? It was a job. My other Matchmaker hadn’t cared. “The blood’s already soaking through your sleeve. You need to be in good health, Emma. It’s my job to make sure—”

She threw her arms wide. “Enough with the job thing already!”

I grew silent, waiting. What was the real issue here? I knew her reluctance was more than ethics. I also knew if I pushed her, she’d close up like a clam.

She paced to the large windows that looked out onto the city below, framed by billowy white curtains. She’d been placed in one of the better rooms. Large and spacious, it was decorated in various shades of white. Antique furniture, a typical French elegance. She belonged here, but she didn’t even realize it. She had no idea how beautiful she was, no idea how intriguing.

“It could get infected. You won’t be able to train.”

“No.” She shook her head. “I won’t let you do it. You heard Petunia, the injury is no big deal.”

Petunia was right, the cut wasn’t deep, so why did I feel the need to heal her? “Emma, it only hurts me for a moment.”

She glanced over her shoulder. Blood had seeped through the sleeve of her robe, staining the white material red. Hell, when I’d lived in London I’d seen plenty of men nearly beaten to death for a few pounds. So why did my stomach clench now?

“Lie down, Emma. Please, let me do my job.”

She frowned, but I could tell she was starting to fold.

Before she rebuilt that wall, I went to her and took her hand. “I don’t like to see you hurt.”

For one long moment we merely stood there, our hands clasped, as the truth hung between us. She searched my gaze as if looking for something. I wasn’t sure if she would find her answers, and part of me wasn’t sure if I wanted her to. Uneasy, I shifted.

Finally, she nodded. “All right.” She pulled her hand from mine and moved to her large bed. I didn’t miss the way her body trembled as she tossed aside her stuffed cat and lay upon the mattress. She was in more pain than she let on. But then shallow cuts often hurt worse.

I settled on the edge of the bed and gently rolled up her sleeve.

“It’s your fault, you know.”

I pressed her arm gently to the mattress, using her sleeve to soak up the blood trailing from the cut. “Really?”

She sucked in a sharp breath through clenched teeth. “Yes. You surprised me so I wasn’t on my game. I could have easily beat Josh.”

I resisted the urge to smile. The woman hated losing. “I’m sure you could have.”

Even though I didn’t look at her, I could feel her gaze on me. I settled my hands over the wound, her blood warm and wet upon my palm. She flinched.

“Shhh, it will be numb soon.”

I concentrated. My fingers grew warm, the heat spreading from my body to hers. Slowly, ever so slowly, I could feel her skin mending, as the pain and wound transferred from her body to mine. It was like someone was scraping the sharp end of a nail up my arm. I didn’t flinch, didn’t even curse as I pulled away from her, allowing the wound to transfer completely. Petunia might have said I was insane. Yes, we could heal, but it wasn’t expected. After all, the injury would have healed on its own; it wasn’t life-threatening. For some reason, some insane reason, I couldn’t let her suffer.

“Owen?” Emma’s sweet voice broke through the pain. “You said the pain would fade fast. When will it fade?”

She was on her knees, sitting beside me, her eyebrows drawn together in concern. I stumbled to my feet, smoothing my face into an unreadable mask. “I’m good. It’s over.”

It was a lie; the cut still throbbed. But she didn’t need to know. If I could just escape before she noticed the sweat on my forehead, all would be well. I turned and started toward the door. “Get some rest.”

Yeah, I could heal her. But I wouldn’t tell her the truth…that the pain was worse for me. I wouldn’t tell her that I wasn’t supposed to heal minor injuries because it sucked too much energy from my body, and it would take hours for me to recuperate.

I rested my hand on the doorknob. “Try not to get hurt again?”

“Owen,” she called out.

I paused, but didn’t dare look back. “Yeah?”

“I like you too.”

My heart slammed wildly against my rib cage. For one brief moment, I closed my eyes and let the words ease the tightness in my chest. Then, without response, I opened the door and left.

Chapter 14

Emma

I pressed my face to the shop window, barely listening to Falconer as he lectured me on the history of the town. As I watched the pretty young Frenchwomen searching through fashionable clothing, I realized that just last month I would have been envious. But I didn’t care about friends or clothes, not really. No, because all I could think about was the fact that Owen hadn’t come with us. My first trip outside the castle walls, and he hadn’t deemed it important enough to protect me.

Not that I needed protecting, but wasn’t it part of his job? He certainly didn’t mind lording it over me when it was to his benefit. Now…nothing. In fact, I hadn’t heard from him since I’d admitted I liked him. But he’d said he liked me first. What did that mean anyway…liked? I liked hamburgers and fries. But I didn’t make out with my hamburger…usually.

“Emma?”

“Sorry.” I pushed away from the window, and gave Jotham and Falconer a forced smile.

Yeah, it was great exploring the streets of France, but I hadn’t imagined exploring with two guys old enough to make my grandmother look young. I mean, seriously…when was the last time they’d shaved those biker beards? And don’t get me started on the robes.

I sighed, following them down a cobblestone street too narrow for cars. Where the heck was Owen when I needed him? I had a feeling he was avoiding me. But then I had a lot of feelings lately, and most I didn’t want to dwell upon. Bemused, I drew my fingers across daisies planted in a window pot while Falconer droned on about the history of the town.

Three weeks. Almost three weeks I’d known Owen. The time had gone by so fast, yet oddly it felt as if I’d always known him. I couldn’t imagine my life without him ordering me around.

“You are well, my dear?” Jotham gently gripped my elbow as we followed Falconer. The man apparently was on a mission and had no time to wait for us. But Jotham didn’t seem to mind and kept his pace slow; the man was all ease and smiles. He was the one person I actually liked here.

“Yeah. Sure.”

We turned down yet another cobbled road, lined with stone buildings with brightly colored shutters. It wasn’t their fault that Owen was avoiding me, and honestly, I did want to know about the town but I just couldn’t concentrate.

“We certainly understand that this is all overwhelming. If you have any questions, feel free to ask.”

“Yeah?” I slid him a glance, wondering how honest he’d be. Even Owen had issues with giving me straight answers.

“Of course.”

“Okay.” Falconer had made it across the street, but we paused as a moped sped by. We were far enough away that he shouldn’t be able to overhear. “How do you become members of the Consulate?”

He smiled. “We were once Protectors.”

I nodded. Interesting, but where were their Matchmakers? “Why aren’t you now?”

He sighed. “Well, our Matchmakers died and we never sensed another.”

Died. One day I’d die, and apparently Matchmakers kicked the bucket earlier than Protectors. “Owen has healed me twice now.”

I don’t know why I blurted out the truth, but there it was, hanging in the air.

“Has he?”

I could read nothing in his tone. It was the only thing that frustrated me about the man; there was never any judgment, which made it awfully hard to know his opinion. Petunia had certainly given her opinion vocally enough. She had acted as if Owen healing me was completely taboo.

“Do keep up,” Falconer called out, waving to us from the curb across the street.

I resisted the urge to roll my eyes and kept pace with Jotham. “Yeah, he has.” We started across the street. “And I know he feels my pain. But I was wondering…I mean…why? Why does he do it? Is the Consulate okay with the healing? Is he supposed to?”

“Well.” He folded his hands in front of him. “They don’t encourage it.”

I’d known, hadn’t I? Petunia sure as heck hadn’t wanted him to heal me. I had a feeling she would have preferred if I’d bled to death. But I could admit that there was something that felt wrong about him taking my pain. I crossed my arms over my chest, feeling guilty as hell.

“It’s a fine line,” Jotham said, “for a Protector to know how much pain he can take, which is why we frown upon it.”

Falconer paused at the end of the street, looking annoyed because we were so far behind. The moment we caught up with him, I’d lose my chance to get information. “How much can a Protector take?”

“More than anyone else. They have a higher pain threshold. But therein lies the problem. If a Protector takes too much, he could die before he realizes it’s too late.”

The thought made me shiver. “Protectors have died from trying to heal their Matchmakers?”

He sighed. “Yes, I’m afraid so. It’s also why the Consulate frowns upon Protector and Matchmaker becoming too close.”

I flushed. Owen and I were close…too close, according to him. I had a feeling Jotham knew. “So a Protector is to save himself before he saves his Matchmaker?”

He didn’t respond and as we reached Falconer’s side, I knew our conversation would have to end. But I had a feeling I knew what he was implying…Matchmakers were disposable. One dies, the powers would transfer, and another would take her place. No biggie. Protectors were, apparently, a little more valuable. So why had Owen acted like I was so important?

“We shall stroll the streets,” Falconer said. “Let your powers guide you.”

I nodded, and gave him a tight smile. Back to business. “Was Owen busy?”

“Hmm?” He turned his back to me and started down the sidewalk. “Oh, yes, a meeting of Protectors.”

I nodded, not missing the way Jotham stared at the man, as if somewhat confused. I had a feeling they weren’t telling me everything. But if he wasn’t at a meeting…what could be keeping him?

Petunia.

The name whispered through my mind. I ignored the taunt. As a trio we started down the street, strolling past shops like any tourists out for the day. Any young tourist with two creepy old guys wearing long robes.

At first I felt nothing…no emotions, no love, no magic of any kind. But then, I wasn’t really trying. No, the city was way too interesting to worry about my powers. How I wished I were just visiting, taking in the sights with friends. At a bakery I paused, the scents too much to resist. It was the same bakery I’d stood outside with Owen the first day we’d arrived.

If Owen had been here he’d help me focus, tell me what to look for, the signs. He could have at least told me he wouldn’t be coming along. When Falconer had sent word that we were headed to town, I’d assumed Owen would be there, waiting. I admit when I’d skipped down the stairs and only Falconer and Jotham were waiting, I’d been extremely disappointed.

“Would you like to try something, my dear?” Jotham asked.

“I’m sorry, what?”

The older man smiled. “At the bakery. Are you hungry?”

Falconer looked annoyed and I started to say no, but before I could respond Jotham latched on to my arm and led me into the shop. The place smelled of cinnamon and chocolate, of freshly baked bread and apples. It was heaven. Jotham spoke rapidly in French to the woman behind the counter. She pulled out a tray of chocolate pastries, resting them on the glass countertop. My mouth watered.

“Delicieux,” I said in my pathetic French.

While the baker looked disgusted by my handle of her native language, Jotham merely smiled down at me. “Try one.”

I didn’t need to be asked twice. I lifted a warm doughnut with a cream-filled middle.

Jotham paid, picking up a pastry of his own. “You will not find better food in all of the world.”

This is where I wanted to be…in a quaint French town, eating French delicacies. And for a moment, I could forget why I was here. But I realized with some bemusement that I wanted to be here with Owen. Heck, I actually missed him. Together we left the shop, following Falconer down the lane while we ate our sugary breakfast. With Owen I could be myself, say whatever outlandish thing I wanted to, and better yet, get away with it. With Owen I didn’t have to pretend to be polite, pretend I cared about the town’s history or my powers.

I bit into my pastry and my thoughts in that instant centered around how freaking good the doughnut tasted. Yep, I could get used to living here. We turned a corner and I realized I’d fallen back, somehow losing Falconer and Jotham ahead. I quickened my steps.

The crowds grew thicker and someone bumped into me, sending me off-balance. My ankle twisted as I teetered off the curb. The world around me spun.

“Pardon,” the person who hit me muttered, hurrying on.

“Do you feel anything?” Falconer asked, pausing ahead.

I tried to focus on the man, tried to focus on his voice. As far away as he was, I could still tell by the look upon his face that he was growing annoyed with my lack of supernatural abilities. I felt like a freaking circus monkey, forced to perform.

I shook my head but it wasn’t exactly true. My brain was growing muddled, the noise around fading into a pulsing murmur of sound. Faces before me blurred out of focus. My hand dropped to my side, the pastry falling to the ground as my powers came whispering into the forefront. Crap.

Falconer was suddenly beside me. “Focus, my dear.”

I tamped down my annoyance as I scanned the crowds. Someone moved by me, their shoulder brushing mine. It was a whisper of a touch, but it was enough. Suddenly everything went calm. The voices receded, the world faded. Drawn to her, I turned, my gaze focused on that woman. Her long dark hair swayed as she moved further away, weaving in and out of the crowds. Without thought, I followed.

Vaguely, I could hear Jotham and Falconer calling after me, but I couldn’t seem to stop. Couldn’t focus on anything but that woman. My heart slammed against my ribs, my blood roaring in my ears, urging me onward as I wove between people, darting across the street, barely aware of the oncoming traffic. I had to see her, must match her.

The woman turned down a lane. So did I. The crowds faded. The sound of the city disappeared. She turned down a narrow alley and of course I followed. Vaguely, I was aware of how stupid it was to head down a dark alley after a stranger, but I couldn’t seem to stop.

“Excuse me,” I called out. “Pardon.”

The woman paused and glanced back, her dark eyes curious, and wary. “Oui?”

I didn’t stop when I reached her, but boldly grasped her hand. She drew back, startled, but I didn’t let go. I couldn’t. I needed to touch her. Lord, she was beautiful…her skin practically sparkling. Before I could get over my shock, an image flashed to mind.

A man flashed before my eyes. A pub. A man serving drinks, laughing, smiling. A handsome man who enjoyed life.

Lyon.

The words whispered through my mind.

Le Petite Café.

Just as quickly as the premonition had arrived, it disappeared. The fog faded from my brain and the world came sharply into focus. “The Petite Café,” I gasped out.

The woman jerked her hand away. “No.”

“Lyon,” I said. “You must go to Lyon.”

She shook her head, confused, and I understood the look in her eyes only too well…she thought I was insane. I didn’t blame her. God, this would be so much easier if Owen were here to help.

“Do you understand? Lyon. To Le Petite Café.”

“I think I understand,” she said in a thick accent. “But…it’s impossible. Isn’t it?”

It didn’t matter if she could barely speak English. All that mattered was she understood. I grinned, feeling relieved, as if I’d awoken from a deep sleep. “No, not impossible. He’s there. You’ve dreamed of him…a guy with dark hair, a small scar.” I pointed toward my chin.

The confusion cleared and realization lit her brown eyes. The woman pressed her hand to her mouth, stifling a cry as tears filled her gaze. “Oui. Yes.”

“He’s there. Your…true love.” I felt like an idiot even saying the words, but oddly she seemed to believe me.

“Lyon?” the woman repeated.

I nodded. “Yes. Go.”

“Merci.” The woman drew me close and gave me a quick hug.

“Oh, okay, you like to hug.” I patted her awkwardly on the back.

“Merci!” She released her hold and dashed down the alley, leaving me behind. Just like that, it was over…the calm after a storm. I shoved my hands into my jeans pockets and looked up at the sky, my body light, my heart soaring. This was it. This was what it felt like to fall in love. I didn’t want to admit it, and I sure as heck wasn’t going to wax poetic about it, but I savored the feel of the match. It made me, dare I say…happy to help others?

With a grin, I turned back toward the street. “Jotham, did you see…” My voice trailed off. Jotham and Falconer weren’t there. The alley was empty.

Crap, I’d probably lost them and would have to fumble my way back to the castle. I started toward the street. I’d assumed they would follow, was shocked they hadn’t. When I reached the street, it was to see that it was completely empty. No one was there. I paused in the middle of the cobbled lane. I could hear voices, conversations, laughter, the rumble of cars and mopeds…but where? I could hear the noise of the town…somewhere. Where the hell was everyone?

I started down the road. Panic wedged itself into my gut. Something was wrong. Really, really wrong. The more I walked, the quieter the voices became. The bakery stood to my right, the castle loomed above, but the faster I raced toward that familiar sight, the farther away it seemed to be. I froze, gasping for air.

“Hello?” I cupped my hands together and peeked through the window of the bakery. The place was empty. There weren’t even pastries under the glass. Almost as if…as if the world had been abandoned, vanished.

“Ridiculous,” I muttered to myself, spinning around, searching for signs of life.

They couldn’t all just disappear. The world hadn’t ended. This wasn’t some post-apocalyptic movie. I’d find them. Or they’d find me with their magical powers. And if I couldn’t find them, well, then I’d just look for an opening and head toward the castle.

But as I turned a corner and the next street was empty too, my panic returned. “This can’t be normal.” A heavy, sinking feeling of dread washed over me. “Damn it, Owen, where are you?”

I started down another street, brushing against the stone wall. It felt real and solid. But the crowds…I could hear the roar of their conversation somewhere, out of reach. Where? Where was everyone? I braced my hand against the wall of an empty shop, using the stone as support.

“Falconer! Jotham!” Their names echoed down the alley, bounding off the stone walls.

No one responded.

I froze where two alleys intersected, indecision holding me captive. No movement. No people. Nothing but that hum of voices, just out of reach. People I couldn’t quite find.

“Owen!” I cried out, my fear turning into anger. “Where the heck are you?”

A shiver of awareness caressed my skin. A cold, bitter, sickening feeling that said I wasn’t alone. I spun around, hoping to find Falconer or maybe Jotham. No such luck. A huge dark form hovered at the end of the alley. I knew immediately it was a demon.

“Hell,” I muttered.

He made the demon who had attacked me at my loft look like a freaking Hello Kitty. Huge clawed feet thundered toward me. From his nostrils, smoke trailed up in curling waves. A monster. A demon. He looked like a bull crossed with the very devil. I didn’t know what the hell it was and I wasn’t about to wait around and find out. I spun around, preparing to flee. The demon suddenly appeared ten feet in front of me, his lips lifting into a snarl.

The scent of rotting carcass infused the air, making me gag. “Oh God.”

“God won’t help you now,” he growled.

“Crap!” I spun around and ran full speed down the alley. Weapon, I needed a weapon. My freaking self-defense wasn’t going to do any good on this monster. I didn’t suppose he would readily tell me where his heart was located.

I turned a corner and ran straight into a hard body. Firm hands gripped my upper arms.

“No!” I lifted my fist and swung. My hand was easily caught in a tight grip.

“Emma,” a familiar voice called out. “Emma, look at me.”

I forced my gaze to focus, my panic to recede. Owen stood in front of me. I’d never been so happy to see him, but I didn’t have time to tell him how I felt. With a cry, I shoved my hands into his chest, pushing him back. “Run!”

Owen’s gaze shifted to the area past my shoulder. “Hell.” He latched on to my arm and jerked me behind him, always the Protector.

“Damn right,” I said. “Where the hell have you been?”

“I’ve been where I always am…at the castle.”

I brushed off his response. If he didn’t want to talk about his date with Petunia, then fine. “We need to get rid of him before he hurts a human.” I glanced around the area in search of a weapon. “Where’s his heart?”

“I told you not to worry. I’m here to protect you.” Owen lifted his hand and a fireball appeared.

Stunned, I could merely glare at him. He was here to protect me? Was he joking? Where the heck had he been five minutes ago? Ten minutes ago? Talk about leaving it to the last minute.

Owen threw the fireball and hit the demon directly in its chest. The thing burst into flames, releasing a high-pitched screech that raised the fine hairs on my body. I had only a moment to breathe a sigh of relief, when Owen spun around and lifted his arm, throwing another fireball directly over my head. I squeaked and jumped back against the wall. A second demon behind us burst into flames. They burned quickly…too quickly. All that remained were two piles of ash.

Their cries of outrage faded, leaving us alone. The sounds of the city suddenly burst back into life, almost too loud. A couple strolled down the street, chatting and laughing, not even noticing us. Life went on as normal. Yep, everything was totally normal.

Owen was breathing heavily as he stepped closer to me. I realized with a start that he was wearing jeans and a gray T-shirt. I’d never seen him in anything but his dress clothes. Crap, he looked good. Really good. I followed the tattoo designs up his forearms, to his muscled biceps.

“Are you all right?”

I jerked my gaze to his face and nodded. He looked good, but he also looked angry. Glasses gone, dark hair mussed, jaw clenched. I stiffened, immediately defensive. Why was he angry? I’d done nothing wrong.

“You will not take my Matchmaker out without my permission again, do you understand?”

For a moment I thought he was talking to me. But no, he wasn’t looking my way, his gaze had shifted to the alley behind me. Slowly I turned and saw Falconer and Jotham standing there mutely. Both men looked so shocked, with their wide eyes and gaping mouths, it was almost funny. Almost. Where had they been when I’d needed them? So help me, if this had all been a test…

Then suddenly Owen’s words pierced my muddled mind. You will not take my Matchmaker out without my permission again.

Owen hadn’t known I was going to town? But Falconer had implied Owen was in a meeting, which was why he hadn’t come with us.

Falconer narrowed his eyes. “You forget yourself, young man. You are not in charge here. You work for the Consulate.”

Owen took my hand in his, jerking me to his side in a way that would have made a caveman proud. “No, lest you forget, I work for Emma and only Emma.” He turned, pulling me with him, and for the moment I kept my mouth shut. I glanced over my shoulder right before we turned the corner. Jotham was smiling, but Falconer looked pissed.

“What was that about?” I demanded as soon as we were out of sight.

“Mortalitas demon. They can produce an invisible wall, blocking out other humans—”

“No.” I jerked my hand away from him. “Where the hell were you?”

He sighed, raking his hands through his hair. “A meeting.”

My heart sank. “So Falconer was telling the truth? You left me, your assignment, to go to a freaking meeting?”

“No.” He rubbed the back of his neck. “He didn’t tell me he was taking you. Damn it, he had no right to escort you outside the castle without my permission.”

“Permission?” I stiffened. “I’m not a child.”

“Don’t make this about you.”

I laughed. “It is about me!” I spun around to leave, then thought better of it, realizing that not only did I have nowhere to go, but without Owen I was a freaking target for demons. I hated having to rely on him. “I’m tired of being used. You and the Consulate want me to match, demons want my energy, and vampires…well, we don’t know what they want, but it’s obviously something.”

He crossed his arms over his chest. “I know.”

But at the moment, it wasn’t so much my powers that angered me, but his lack of emotion. “Where the heck were you?” Yeah, I was angry. Angry that he hadn’t known until the last minute. Angry that after admitting he liked me, he’d disappeared for days.

He grasped my hands, holding me captive. “I’m sorry. I came as soon as I sensed you.”

He looked so dang sincere that my anger fled. God, we were both being used here. It wasn’t his fault, it was mine for relying on him, for relying on anyone. I’d learned long ago to count only on myself, but the more time I spent with Owen, the less I seemed to remember how. And that scared me to death.

I tore my hands from his and stepped back, putting distance between us. Time to regain control. He’d wanted a professional relationship, and I realized now that was what would be best. “What happened? How could this happen?”

“I have a feeling,” he started, sounding exhausted and wary, so unlike him. “That someone set you up to die.”

Chapter 15

Owen

If I had been doubtful before, I was no longer.

Someone had betrayed Emma’s aunt, and now that same person was trying to kill Emma.

I’d be damned if I’d let that happen.

“You’re not concentrating, Emma.”

She glanced over her shoulder, glaring at me. Yeah, maybe I was being too hard on her, but the demon attack in town three days ago had made me realize just how screwed we were. She’d been right all along…she needed to know how to protect herself.

I leaned back against the wardrobe in her bedchamber and watched her do a roundhouse kick toward the stuffed dummy hanging from the chandelier, setting the crystals trembling. My nerves were still shaken. I couldn’t get over the fact that because of the Consulate, she could have died. For not the first time, I wondered what the hell Falconer had been thinking. Or did he truly believe that he and Jotham had enough power to keep her safe? If they were so bloody out of touch, they shouldn’t be running things.

I shoved an ottoman out of the way as she spun toward me. I’d pushed the furniture back to the corners of her room, giving us plenty of space. She might not be able to control her powers, but she sure as hell could protect herself.

“I don’t see why we can’t train in the training room.” She swiped her arm across her forehead and eased from her fighting stance into a relaxed position.

Because I didn’t want anyone to know we were preparing. She’d been trained in self-defense, had even taken a few years of tae kwon do. But this…this fighting required skills she didn’t have. This wasn’t sparring with rules and a referee; this was kill or be killed.

“Come on,” I said. “You were the one who insisted on training. Remember in the US? You said you could protect yourself?”

She glared at me, snatching her water bottle from the desk. “Of course you have to bring that up.”

“You’re thinking too much.”

She tossed her braid over her shoulder and sauntered toward me. “And as a woman, of course, I shouldn’t think?”

“No, as a person trained to kill, you don’t have time to think. React, instinct, you must learn to use them.”

I reached out, latching on to her arm, and straightening it. Slowly, I drew my fingers over the sensitive spot behind her elbow. “Here…there’s a pressure point.” I released my hold and slid my hand up the back of her neck. “And here.”

Yeah, I was completely aware of her body so close to mine, the heat, the shiver that raced over her skin as I slid my hand up the back of her neck. I was aware, but I had to ignore it.

“With just a little pressure in the right spot, you can bring a man to the ground.” I released my hold and stepped back. “But first you need to trust your instincts.”

She frowned, rubbing the spot on her arm where I’d touched her. “I do.”

“Oh, really?”

“Of course. In my line of business, I’ve had to rely on my instincts.”

But I knew her better than she realized. I moved toward the chair where I’d discarded my jacket and grabbed the blue silk tie. “Turn around.”

She frowned, glancing at the tie warily. “Why?”

“Don’t you trust me?” I mocked. We both knew the answer to that question, but I was daring her to admit it. She didn’t trust herself, whether she realized it or not, and she sure as heck didn’t trust me.

She hesitated for a long moment. Finally with a sigh, she turned, surprising me. I moved closer to her, my chest at her back, and slid the smooth material over her eyes. Her silky hair brushed my fingers, that vanilla scent driving me mad.

“Kinky,” she muttered.

I tied the ends, blindfolding her. “Not quite.”

“Then what are you doing?”

I leaned closer, my breath stirring the locks that had drifted toward her neck. I didn’t miss the pulse that pounded in the side of her throat. “Testing your instincts. Quiet your mind and your body, let the answers come to you.”

“What the heck does that mean?”

I stepped back.

She spun around to face me. “Very funny, Emerson.”

I didn’t respond, merely moved a few more steps away, out of reach, and waited to see what she would do. Yeah, I needed the distance as much as she needed to practice. My mind didn’t like what she could do to me. My body, good God, my body liked her…too much.

She placed her hands on her hips, standing there in a patch of sunlight that pierced the white curtains. “I’m not playing this silly game.”

I didn’t move, didn’t say a bloody word. It served her right, she hated not being in charge. But if there was one thing I’d learned, it was that Emma couldn’t resist a challenge. Would she rise to the occasion, or would she fail?

“Fine,” she snapped. “Do your worst.”

I appeared left, disappearing just as quickly. She felt a stirring and swiped her arm wide, but I was already gone. Her frustrated sigh had me grinning. There was something incredibly amusing about taunting her, and for a brief moment all our issues, our worries, vanished.

“Nice try,” I whispered, appearing near her right side.

She turned, even knowing I was gone before she fully faced me. “No using your disappearing powers! Not fair.”

“You think demons and vampires won’t use theirs?” I said in her left ear.

She spun toward me and jabbed her arm. Her fist hit my stomach. My grunt brought a smirk of satisfaction to her face. “Well, look at that.”

But with a swoosh, I disappeared. She’d reacted quickly, had diverted my attention with her comment. I wouldn’t make the same mistake. “Quiet your body and your mind.”

“How can I when you’re constantly talking,” she said.

And there I was…grinning again. Nevertheless, she took in a deep breath and relaxed her taut shoulders. Yeah, she’d relaxed, but she was too relaxed. I appeared behind her and waited for her to sense me. Her shoulders stiffened a moment before she spun around, fist raised.

I easily caught her hand in a tight grip. Before she could try to break free, I pushed her back. Off-balance, her knees gave out and she fell. I should have known she wouldn’t go down without a fight. She hooked her foot behind my calf and pulled me with her. Now that, I hadn’t expected.

Together we landed on her bed. For one long moment we merely lay there, too stunned to move. I didn’t dare remove her blindfold, afraid I’d see the attraction in her gaze and wouldn’t be able to help myself. Her warm breath fanned across my face, her sweet scent swirling around me.

“Very good,” I said softly, knowing I had to say something.

Her heart pounded against my chest, showing her nerves, although her voice came out steady. “Not very good, you caught me.”

“Still, you were able to sense my approach.”

God, we were making asinine conversation, avoiding the truth of the situation. She shifted and I became uncomfortably aware of her warm body under mine. She reached for the blindfold at the same time I did. My hands rested over hers, the blindfold still in place as we froze. Bloody hell, it was too intimate. I couldn’t be next to her without wanting to kiss her.

“Emma,” I said, my voice strained. “We can’t—”

“Kiss me,” she whispered.

I stiffened, my fingers curling around hers. For one moment, I thought about rejecting her. Knew I needed to escape before this became too serious. But my body betrayed me and slowly I shifted, lowering my head. My lips touched hers softly, savoring her sweet mouth. I wanted to sink into her, to kiss her forever.

My conscience wouldn’t let me.

Just as she placed her hands on my shoulders, I pulled away, my forehead resting against hers, our harsh breaths mingling. “I can’t stop,” I whispered. “If I keep kissing you, I won’t be able to stop and we can’t do this. We can’t.”

“Why, Owen?”

I moved away from the bed as she tore the blindfold from her eyes. How the hell was I going to protect her when I couldn’t be near her? I grabbed my jacket and shoved my arms through the sleeves.

“Why?” she demanded, sitting on the edge of her large bed, looking confused and frustrated.

“We can’t, Emma,” I said, repeating the mantra like a good soldier.

She surged to her feet, her hands fisted in anger. “Why?”

She wouldn’t let it go. Why couldn’t she let it go? “Damn it, Emma, why can’t you just leave it alone?”

She started toward me, that determined glint in her gaze. She wouldn’t relent. “Why!”

Frustrated, angry, I said the one thing I knew I shouldn’t. “Because you can’t, Emma. A Matchmaker can’t know love.”

********

Emma

It took me two hours to find Owen. After searching the many halls, after mentally calling for him, after even biting the bullet and asking Petunia, who had assured me in a cold manner that she had no idea…a maid had finally taken pity on me and suggested I try the library. The conference room was empty and the door to the library had opened automatically for me, as if I were now part of the house and welcome to go anywhere I pleased.

Even though it was my second visit, the place was still majorly impressive. The rows and rows of shelves overwhelmed me. The area was so large, the light couldn’t even reach the far corners of the domed ceiling. How would I ever find him? Usually he was the one who found me. I started down an aisle of biographies, feeling confused…almost lost. He couldn’t just do that to me, damn him. He couldn’t kiss me, tell me I could never find love, and then disappear. What the heck did he mean by it anyway?

Love in general? Or love with him? Heck, we’d just kissed. That was all. Not like I was buying the latest issue of Bridal Weekly. But even as I thought the words, I knew better. Eternity. I had eternity with the guy. How could I keep my feelings for him under wraps? Then again, eternity was a freaking long time; most likely I’d grow sick of him by next week.

I turned a corner, starting down yet another endless row. The place seemed deserted, desolate, empty, much like how I felt. I didn’t believe in love, did I? Yet I couldn’t mistake the euphoria I’d experienced after setting up Paula with Tony. The feelings I’d experienced when I’d told that French woman she could find her true love in Lyon. Love…pure, simple, freeing…exactly what love should feel like. Love shouldn’t make you desperate and needy, as it had with Mom. It should make you happier, better in some way.

But believing in true love and soul mates went against everything I’d ever known. Even my own mother hadn’t loved us enough, had she? No, she’d given in to her own selfish need for attention and followed some guy half her age across the country. Wasn’t a parent’s love supposed to be the purest of all? I hadn’t even experienced that, so how could I possibly believe in true, unflinching, uncompromising love?

I paused, leaning back against a smooth polished-walnut shelf, my gaze going to the ceiling above, so high that it faded into darkness. How could I possibly believe in love? Yet, when Owen pressed his lips to mine with such strength and assuredness, I could almost believe in him. Maybe not love…but him.

I closed my eyes, remembering the feel of his mouth on mine. Just like that, a whispered indication of where he was called to me. I opened my eyes. Owen. An unmistakable feeling that told me to turn right. I turned and followed the aisle farther into the darkness, not having a clue where I was headed but trusting my instincts as Owen had wanted me to all along. At the end of the aisle I turned left, and found a softly glowing lamp on a table. Just over the stack of books I spotted Owen, his head resting upon the tabletop, his eyes closed.

Slowly, quietly, I went to him, my heart pounding harder with each step closer. I could love him. Oh God. My steps faltered, my heart stopped for one brief moment. This man I’d only known for a month, this guy who protected me when no others had, this man who took my pain even if it was a small scratch, this man who was so serious and so intent on rescuing me even though I didn’t need it. I could love him. And that scared the hell out of me.

My hands curled as I resisted the urge to reach out to him. Slowly, my gaze moved down his face to his shoulders, down his arm to his hands. His sleeves were rolled, showing off those intricate tattoos. I’d noticed them on Josh as well, which meant they must have been some sort of Protector initiation ritual. I started to reach for his hand, unable to stop myself, when I noticed the books piled haphazardly about the table.

The Secret life of a Matchmaker.

Curses and Cures.

Bemused, I pushed aside the books to reveal more journals about Matchmakers, Protectors, and curses. He was researching…but why? Shouldn’t he already know everything? I pulled the book closest to him toward me and read.

Throughout time, no Matchmaker has ever had a successful relationship. Because Matchmakers are being punished by the gods, the curse states that they are not to know love of their own. Any attempt to forgo your duties, especially in a relationship, always ends in disaster. If a Matchmaker falls for a human, that human will most likely meet a fateful death.

A cold weight sank into my gut. Never know love. Never date. Never marry.

Owen shifted, lifting his head, but I didn’t move, merely continued to stare at that passage. I couldn’t seem to breathe. Irony. How ridiculous. I couldn’t experience love. Only a few weeks ago I hadn’t wanted love. But now…

“Emma,” Owen’s voice was husky. “Bloody hell, did I actually fall asleep? I never sleep.”

I jerked my gaze toward him. “I can’t get married?”

He was silent, watchful, wary as he reached for his glasses.

“I can’t have kids?”

He put his glasses on. “Did you want kids?”

Of course I hadn’t wanted kids, had I? But still, the realization that I could match others but not myself didn’t sit well. I sank onto the empty chair next to his, staring unblinkingly at the open book. I hated the fact that I had no control over my own life. What right did this book have to tell me what I could and couldn’t do? Who was anyone to decide my fate?

“Emma, I’m sorry—”

“Did you know this the entire time?”

He nodded. Not even a pause.

I sank back against the chair, the legs creaking with the movement. I didn’t know how to feel. Oddly I felt cold…empty. All this time he’d known. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“Would you have come with me if I had? Would you have even believed me?”

My anger flared. “Don’t give me that. You’ve had plenty of opportunities since we arrived here.” I surged from my chair, too annoyed to sit. “How do you know it’s true? Just because some stupid book says—”

“Sebastian.”

I shook my head, confused. “Who?”

“Seb…you met him at the airport.” Owen raked his hands through his hair, leaving it mussed. He took off his glasses again, tossing them to the tabletop. He wore them less often now, for some reason. “I told him about the curse, but he didn’t care…he couldn’t help himself.”

“What happened?”

“He fell in love with his Matchmaker and…she ended up dying. When he tried to save her, he almost died as well.”

It sounded so final. No getting around it. Jotham had warned me that day in town. Even Owen had repeatedly told me we couldn’t have a relationship, but I had just thought it was Owen being Owen.

“Happened to Petunia too.”

Unwillingly, I felt sorry for her. So we were all fated to be alone. “If you knew all of this, then why are you researching?”

He looked away this time, focusing on the lamp resting on the table. “Because you should be able to have a life, a family, like a normal person.”

My heart warmed. He was trying to help, which made the fact that he’d kept this from me a little easier to take. “Okay.” For a moment I merely sat there, mulling over everything, trying to understand his feelings for me, trying to understand the situation. “So then we keep it professional.”

He released a wry laugh.

Yeah, easier said than done. It was obviously what he’d been trying to do all along…keep us apart. But maybe, just maybe if I kept it professional too, then we could get past this attraction.

If I fell for Owen, he could lose his powers…or worse.

I couldn’t let that happen. He lived for those powers, for his job. He’d be miserable without this stupid Consulate. Petunia suddenly appeared, standing across from us. I hoped it was a mirage; unfortunately I wasn’t that lucky. Freaking perfect timing.

She wore tight skinny jeans and a V-neck T-shirt that showed off her massive double D chest. Wasn’t she violating some Protector dress code? Shouldn’t she wear some sort of shapeless suit? I resisted the urge to curse her out, trying to remember the heartache she’d apparently gone through. But it was hard to believe she even had a heart.

She didn’t bother to look my way, but focused on Owen. “Jotham is asking after you. Says it’s important.”

Owen slid me a glance. “Later?”

I nodded.

He disappeared, leaving me alone with Pain-in-my-ass Petunia.

She reached forward and picked up his glasses. “He always forgets them.”

She glanced at me, an odd look in her gaze as if she knew something I didn’t. I had to resist the urge to gag. I got it…she knew him better than I did. What’d she want, a trophy?

“You’re in love with him,” she stated boldly. “Owen, you’re in love with him.”

I scoffed, crossing my arms, praying my face didn’t flush. Who the heck was she to come in here proclaiming ridiculous statements? “I don’t believe in love.”

She narrowed her eyes. “You can’t…oh my God, you’re serious?” She released a sharp laugh, shaking her head. “Unbelievable.”

I didn’t bother to respond. She pulled out a chair and sat at the table across from me, my silence not hint enough. “I understand why. He’s amazing. He’s courageous. Loyal. Gorgeous. Brave. And when he laughs, the entire world lights up.”

Laughed? I realized with a start that Owen rarely smiled around me, let alone laughed. Of course, I wasn’t going to divulge that information.

“But to him, you’re just a job. You’ll always be just a job.”

Her words stung, although I showed no outward reaction. “Don’t worry, I have no plans to fall in love with my Protector. I’d never do something so stupid.”

I honestly hadn’t meant to imply that she’d been stupid to fall in love with her Matchmaker, but I realized too late that’s how she took it. I ignored her flushed face and turned, heading back down the aisle. I didn’t care, because my thoughts were centered on Owen.

Did I make him laugh? No. Did I make him smile? No. Did I make him happier? Apparently not. I paused at the end of the aisle, and leaned against a bookshelf.

Maybe, just maybe, I was starting to fall in love with Owen. But maybe, just maybe, he would never love me back.

Chapter 16

Emma

“Better, but you still need to concentrate.”

“I am!” I snapped, glaring at Owen. He’d woken me up at six a.m. only to lead me into the training room while I’d still been half-asleep. And he expected me to be on my toes, in tip-top shape? For almost two weeks he’d been relentless, determined to teach me how to protect myself. The attack had obviously sent him teetering toward the edge. But frankly, I was tired, hungry, and sick of him telling me what to do.

“Why don’t you find Petunia? I’m sure she’d love to train with you.”

Over the days, it had become more and more apparent that although Owen didn’t feel anything for Pet, she certainly felt something for him. Of course, being the guy that he was, he hadn’t just come out and told her to back off. No, he remained friendly, giving her hope.

I wanted to pull her aside and tell her to get over him, that it wasn’t going to happen. But there was a tiny part of me that wondered if maybe he was still friends with Petunia because he was attracted to her. And why wouldn’t he be? She was gorgeous, while I looked like, well…me.

He crossed his arms over his chest, the gray T-shirt he wore stretching across his broad shoulders. In that T-shirt—with his hair mussed and his glasses gone, and those tattoos entwining up his arms—he looked more like the kind of guy I’d see at the bars I used to frequent, not the Owen I knew.

“Not a bad idea,” he said. “Pet’s brilliant in hand-to-hand combat.”

“I bet she is,” I muttered.

Apparently my joke had fallen flat. There was no mirth in his gaze, only a cold relentlessness I didn’t like. “Close your eyes.”

I threw him one last glare before complying. Slowly, he moved around me. I could feel his energy, could just hear the soft fall of his footsteps as he traveled…then…nothing. He’d disappeared. I frowned, annoyed that he’d used his powers again, but I knew better than to complain after he set me straight last time.

You think demons and vampires won’t use theirs?

I hated when he acted the aloof teacher, so determined to do his job. When he was like this, it was hard to remember he’d kissed me, hard to remember we were friends, and…more.

“What if we talk about our issues instead?”

His warm breath whispered across the back of my neck, sending a shiver down my spine. “What issues?”

He was playing dumb in order to avoid the topic. “Owen, if I fall in love, that person dies. I’d say that’s an issue, a big one.”

I could sense him at my left. “You don’t believe in love, so it shouldn’t be a problem.”

“Don’t,” I snapped, forcing myself to keep my eyes closed, not wanting to see the arrogance in his gaze. “Don’t turn this into a joke.”

He sighed, standing in front of me now. “Listen to me.” He stepped closer, so close his warm breath whispered across my lips. “Tonight is the Consulate meeting. They have one every month. They’ll be busy, so it will be the perfect time to escape.”

I opened my eyes, stunned. “We’re leaving?”

He nodded. “It was a mistake coming here, but I felt like I had no other choice.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?” I demanded in a harsh whisper.

“Because there are spies everywhere, and you wear your emotions on your face.”

“I do not!”

“You do.” He stepped back, putting distance between us, and obviously trying to put an end to the conversation. “Now…concentrate.”

“Where will we go?”

He moved toward the wall where a variety of weapons hung. “The only place that’s protected…the cottage. Fortunately, your aunt had the good sense to have a fairy set a spell on the property. Only a select few can find it. Now, relax. Concentrate, you must concentrate.”

Was he kidding? “You just drop the news that we’re escaping tonight, and then you expect me to train? I don’t want to concentrate!”

“We have to act normal.” He pulled a saber from the sheath pinned to the wall, the swoosh of metal against metal echoing across the training room. “And normalcy is we train.”

So that’s why we were in the training room and not in my bedroom…so everyone would see us; just a typical day. But I didn’t want to act normal, and I knew one thing that would throw him off his game, the only thing. I was about to step closer and kiss him senseless, just to get him to drop that cold facade, when I heard the unmistakable thump of footsteps.

“Owen,” Josh called out.

Surprised, I jerked my gaze toward the open door. He moved quickly into the room, his long legs eating up the parquet floor. Perfect timing. Had Petunia sent him? But no…he looked serious, so dang serious that I knew instantly something was up.

“What are you doing here?” Owen asked, his tone edged.

You could say they despised each other, these boys and their egos. And yeah, I’d realized pretty quickly that they didn’t get along, and I’d even flirted with Josh knowing it would annoy Owen. But I was tired of the games, tired of the conspiracy.

Josh glanced my way and smiled. I flushed, feigning sudden fascination with the hem of my tank top. Yep, really shouldn’t have flirted with him. Owen shifted, stepping closer to me like a good caveman claiming his woman. But he hadn’t really ever claimed me, had he? Heck, I wasn’t even sure if he was actually dating Petunia or not. He said they weren’t, but I wondered if Petunia realized that.

“You haven’t heard?” Josh asked.

Dang it all, why couldn’t Josh be my Protector? Yeah, he was good-looking in his tight black T-shirt and jeans, but he didn’t compare to Owen, and that more than surprised me. Clean-cut Owen who always followed the rules, who rarely had a lock of hair out of place, fascinated me. With Josh, I wouldn’t have to worry about that heated attraction. But the truth of the matter was it was more than just attraction. I trusted Owen like I trusted no one else.

“What is it?” Owen snapped, crossing his arms over his chest, in no mood for games either.

Here he was lecturing me about not showing my emotions. Amused, my gaze traveled from his broad shoulders to the hard planes of his face. Owen was jealous. I resisted the urge to grin. Maybe he was more human than I’d thought.

“They’re arriving.”

Startled, I pushed Owen aside to get a better view of Josh. “Who?”

Josh’s gaze went immediately to me. “The Otherworld. I could sense them from my room.”

Confused, I looked to Owen for explanation.

“How many?” he asked, not explaining in the least.

“Hundreds.”

“Shite.” He raked his fingers through his hair. “War?”

I stiffened. “Wait…what? War?”

Josh shook his head. “No, there was no sense of urgency, only excitement.”

For some reason, I didn’t feel much better. Owen said a monthly meeting was normal, but apparently not this kind of meeting. Wait…Otherworldly? I raked my mind, trying to remember who they were.

Owen began to pace the room, his agitation obvious. “I should have sensed them sooner.”

“Who are they, Owen?” I asked.

“Just Otherworldly members, friends of the Consulate,” Josh explained.

Right. Friends. Then why was Owen pacing and rubbing the back of his neck? I knew that look on his face well; he was plotting, his mind spinning. But why? What had changed?

“No one to fear, nothing for you to worry about,” Josh added.

I ignored the guy. I hated the way he talked to me so condescendingly. Like I was a cute little Matchmaker who needed to keep her mouth shut. He reminded me of Falconer. Owen might be a pain in the butt at times, but he had never treated me like I was a dimwit.

“Was there a meeting planned?” Owen asked as he headed toward the side of the room and grabbed his jacket. Although he wore a T-shirt and jeans, with the jacket he looked like a preppy rich playboy. But he hadn’t grown up rich at all. I’d misjudged him in so many ways. I had been right about one thing…he thought it was his responsibility to protect me. Call me egotistical, but I had a terrible, unsettling feeling that the reason Owen was upset was because this meeting had something to do with me.

“No, no meeting planned,” Josh said. “Just the typical monthly gathering.”

“Have you seen Seb?”

“Nope.”

“Damn, what about Petunia?”

Josh shook his head. “You need something? I can help.”

Owen ignored him and looked my way. “Emma, please retire to your room.”

I stiffened, confused. There was that straitlaced guy again. Just when I’d put him on a pedestal, just when I’d thought we’d gotten past this leaving-me-in-the-dark crap. “You can’t be serious.”

“Indeed, I am.”

“Indeed?” I was furious, anger burning a path through my veins. “Don’t do this, Owen.”

“Would you like me to escort her?” Josh asked a little too eagerly.

I ignored him and shoved my palm into Owen’s chest. “Oh, no. No. This is not going to happen. I’m sick of you treating me like a child.”

Josh watched us from the sidelines, amusement in his blue eyes. “My, isn’t she a hellcat.”

“This is none of your business, Frenchie, so stay out.” I turned my glare to him, which only seemed to make Josh more amused.

Owen took my hand, drawing my attention back to him. “We don’t know what’s going on, Emma. It would be best if you went to your room.”

“No, what would be best—”

“Enough.” Lord Falconer’s voice carried through the chamber, echoing against the stone walls and startling me silent. His footsteps were slow and steady as he made his way toward us, those black robes sweeping across the mats in a hypnotic movement. I’d never liked him, and the fact that he’d overheard our private conversation made me more than uneasy. “There’s a meeting, and Emma is needed.”

Suddenly, heading to my room didn’t sound so bad. I bit my tongue, resisting the urge to argue.

“What’s going on, my lord?”

Falconer’s gaze flicked toward me. “We shall proceed into the meeting arena.”

He hadn’t answered Owen’s question, and apparently didn’t feel the need to, as he turned and strolled back toward the door. We had no choice but to follow.

“Owen?” I whispered as we fell into step behind Josh and Falconer.

He gave a slight shake of his head, telling me to keep my mouth shut, and I would…for now. My suspicions had been right; this was about me. Why would Falconer want me otherwise? No, not want, insist I come along? I pulled at the hem of my tank top, feeling ridiculously underdressed in my workout clothes.

We turned the corner and started toward the double doors ahead. I could hear the low rumble of conversation coming from the arena and my nerves flared. How the hell were Owen and I going to sneak out now?

“There has been a meeting called,” Falconer finally explained as we headed toward those doors. “By the Otherworld.”

“Why?” Owen demanded.

I worried that Falconer would take offense by Owen’s hard tone. We didn’t need any more attention than we already had, and we sure as heck didn’t need any more enemies. I shoved my elbow into his side, but he ignored me.

“Why is everyone here?” he demanded again.

Falconer paused outside the doors and turned to face us. “The members of the Otherworld are worried about an impending attack.”

Okay, but what did this have to do with me?

“We’ll discuss it at length inside.” With a wave of his hand, the doors opened. A variety of ethereal creatures filled the room, conversing in low, murmured voices. Fairies and dwarves, angels even. They each shimmered with their own powers, beings so beautiful that it almost hurt to look directly at them.

“They’ve always been here,” Josh whispered next to me. “You’ve just never been able to see them until now.”

The roar of conversation died down to a soft murmur as beings turned, sensing our arrival. Curious faces focused on Falconer, and then shifted to me as if they knew immediately who I was…what I was capable of.

“Please, come to order,” Falconer cried out, his voice echoing across the room. There had to be at least two hundred beings in attendance in a variety of shapes, sizes, and colors. So many faces, the room blurred before me.

“Why?” Owen demanded again. “Why are they upset with the Underworld?”

“There is a rumor circulating,” Josh whispered.

“What?” I asked, but before he could answer, Falconer gripped my arm and led me down the steps. Helplessly, I glanced back at Owen, but I knew we had no choice but to follow along for now.

Jotham, along with the other Consulate members I’d seen when I first arrived, was seated at the high table. I focused on his kind face as we made it to the platform. At least he was here. At least I had one person on my side.

“Sit, my dear.” Falconer pulled out a chair at the end of the table.

I lowered myself carefully onto the hard seat. Murmured conversation started up once more, a wave that rolled over the crowd, threatening to drown me. I could hear the whispered words of those closest to me…they were wondering if I were old enough, experienced enough, powerful enough. Maybe I wasn’t, and what would they do if I couldn’t help?

The torchlight provided an eerie glow of light and shadows that danced across the strange faces in the crowd. I searched for Owen, focusing on his familiar form as he settled in a vacant chair in the third row.

“You’ve arrived because you’ve heard the rumors,” Falconer said, pacing the platform slowly. “You’ve heard the rumblings of the Underworld. You feel that they are restless, gathering, and you don’t know why.” He turned toward me. “This is why. Our Matchmakers.”

A flush of heated red rushed up my neck and into my cheeks, but no one seemed to notice my discomfort, and they continued to stare unabashedly at me. I knew how those monkeys at the zoo felt.

“Is it true?” someone called out from the crowd. “Do they want to make matches?”

“We fear it may be so.”

Wow…wait a minute. I glanced at Owen and noticed his body stiffen, his gaze pinned to Falconer. It was one thing matching innocent humans, but vampires? As ridiculous as it sounded, suddenly it made sense…the attacks, the vampires promising not to kill me. Apparently I was very popular, but I’d never cared in the least about being popular.

“Meet Emma Watts, our newest Matchmaker.”

Two hundred heads swiveled toward me. I nodded my greeting, too nervous to even smile. I hoped they didn’t expect me to do a welcome speech.

“You know the history of the Matchmaker, but what you don’t know is that we’ve come to the realization that Matchmakers can work not only for humans…” He paused dramatically, and I had to admit that there was something commanding about his presence. Every being was focused on him, awaiting his next comment. “But yes, we believe that matchmaking can work on Underworldly beings as well.”

Silence met his declaration, then a roar of questions broke out, their voices so loud that the flames around the room actually flickered. I had to resist the urge to cover my ears like a child overwhelmed.

“What does this mean?” someone a couple of chairs down from me asked. The man’s fairy wings were as large as his six-foot-tall body, and glistened iridescent in the low lamplight.

“It means…they can find a soul mate as well.”

The fear in the room was acute and pulsing.

“Unfortunately,” Falconer said, “the Underworld has uncovered the Matchmaker’s ability too. There have been attempts on Emma’s life not only by demons, but also by vampires.”

“The vampires didn’t want to kill—”

“We have to stop them!” someone cried out, interrupting me.

A tall, thin green man stood, prompting other beings to stand as well. “They will soon outnumber us!”

The Jolly Green Giant’s comment caused an uproar that thundered through the room. Crap, this was getting out of hand fast. Desperate, I glanced at Jotham, but he remained mute, and unhelpful.

“Enough.” Falconer raised his arms and the room grew grudgingly silent. “As you are aware, every time a human is matched, that human’s power grows. The Underworld believes that if they are matched, their powers might grow as well.”

Not a being moved, their gazes trained on Falconer. Their fear grew. I could practically hear the wheels churning as every being turned their attention to me. Gone was the curiosity; in its place was wonder, and more than that, terror. They didn’t give a crap about finding love; they wanted the power. I had a feeling that no matter what I did, a storm was about to erupt.

Owen surged from his chair. “Enough of this.” His voice rolled through the room so powerfully that the place actually fell silent. I knew half the group hadn’t a clue who Owen was, but they all obeyed him. When he wanted to, the guy could be downright frightening, and not for the first time I was glad he was on my side.

Falconer turned toward Owen, surprise evident on his weary face. “Owen, do you wish to add something?”

“Yes, this is finished. There is no reason for Emma to be here.” He started toward me but Falconer stepped in his way. Owen knew something I hadn’t quite caught on to yet, or he wouldn’t be storming the platform. I surged from my chair, my heart hammering. When Jotham rested his hand atop mine, I resisted the urge to lunge forward and help Owen.

“What can be done to stop them?” the Jolly Green Giant called out.

“Nothing.”

An uproar of worried conversation broke out, whispered words of anxiety and fear vibrating the very room. Fear could make people really, really stupid.

“Silence!” Falconer demanded.

The room settled down, but their fear was still there. I didn’t point out the fact that they were in an uproar over a piece of gossip. After all, we didn’t know for sure what the vampires were planning. “Keep calm and carry on” didn’t seem to carry much weight with these beings.

“The only thing we can do is make sure our Matchmakers are well protected.”

“And if one is abducted anyway?” someone asked.

“That is the problem,” Falconer admitted, garnering another roar of conversation from the audience. Well, Falconer had done nothing to elevate the fear; in fact, he’d made it worse. These people needed a leader to calm them, not invoke more anxiety. I glanced at Jotham, hoping he might take the reins, but he remained oddly quiet and detached, as if watching a play, as if the meeting had nothing to do with him.

“This is getting out of hand,” Owen snapped. He moved around Falconer and gripped my arm, leading me away from the table. His desperation made me nervous.

“There is a solution,” Falconer said.

His words gave me pause and I pulled on Owen, forcing him to stop, too full of curiosity for my own good. Of course I wanted to know. This was my life, after all.

“What?” I asked. “What’s the solution?”

The room grew quiet, their attention flicking from me to Jotham.

“You, my dear,” Falconer said. Owen’s hand on my arm tightened. “If the Otherworld is matched before the Underworld has a chance, we can overpower them.”

A roar of conversation rushed through the room. War. He was talking about going to war with the Underworld. But war wouldn’t just affect them, no, it would affect humans as well. Oh God, I had to get to Lizzie and make sure she was safe.

“No!” Owen demanded, but his voice was barely heard over the reaction of the crowd. When the entire audience cheered, some even banging their fists on their chests like overemotional gorillas, I knew we were screwed. Owen apparently realized it as well. He pulled me up the stairs, his steps sure and hurried.

“Owen, wait, please,” I said breathlessly.

“Emma graciously uses her powers to match us,” Falconer continued as if I still stood there, as if Owen weren’t pulling me up the steps toward the door and freedom even as he spoke.

“We have no other alternative,” someone said.

A roar of agreement rushed through the crowd. I knew I looked like a deer in the headlights as they all turned to look at me. So many people…so many matches. What if it didn’t work? What if I wasn’t powerful enough? What if war destroyed this world?

“Everyone, please calm down,” Jotham finally said, standing. “We will discuss this upon further consideration.”

“I don’t see what there is to further discuss,” Falconer snapped.

“Surely tests must be done,” Jotham explained. He was trying; I’d give him that much. “Things need to calm down. I think it best if we adjourn and reconvene tomorrow.”

If we had until tomorrow, Owen and I could escape tonight. But I wasn’t sure if I should escape. If I left, they would merely use another Matchmaker, wouldn’t they? And this war would continue.

“Don’t do anything stupid, Owen,” Josh muttered, stepping out from the back of the room where he’d been sitting, and for once I agreed with the man. They were fighting over me, and I didn’t want to see Owen hurt, or worse, because of it. I sure as heck didn’t want to see them go to war.

“Emma, we need to go now,” Owen said urgently.

I hesitated, unsure. If I left with him, if we escaped, he wouldn’t be the only one endangered. No, the entire world would be on the brink.

“Trust me,” he whispered.

Damn him, he knew exactly what to say. I slid my hand into his, but before I could agree, Falconer suddenly appeared next to us, startling me. Crap, this wouldn’t be good, not at all.

“Mr. Emerson, do not be difficult,” the older man said in a low voice. “This is for the best of our people. The best for all.”

Owen stabbed a finger into his own chest. “She is mine. I am here for her. It is my duty to protect her, and I won’t see her used by anyone.”

“Owen, this is for the good of everyone, even you and Emma.”

I was to match fairies and elves? I suddenly felt like I’d ended up in a weird version of Oz. Vampires and demons, and now fairies. Yep, another typical day. Next, the Easter Bunny would want to find his soul mate.

Owen shook his head. “They can’t be matched.”

“They seem to think they can be.”

“Has anyone ever tried?” Josh asked.

“No.”

“No Matchmaker has ever flashed on an Otherworldly being, so why would they think…” Owen trailed off as his gaze slowly came to me. “It’s Emma.”

I flushed, feeling highly uncomfortable. Seriously, he always had to blame me for everything.

“We all know your Matchmaker is more powerful than most,” Falconer said, the news surprising to me. “I sensed her power, but it was confirmed when she matched an elf the other day.”

I shook my head, confused.

“The woman in town, you matched her just before the demon attacked.”

I wanted to deny it, but suddenly it made sense. Her beauty, her shock…those pointed ears.

“Emma has matched the first Otherworldly being ever. The Underworld has sensed her power. They are growing in numbers and strength. The others worry they will soon outnumber us all. Humans grow more powerful when matched, why not the Otherworld members?”

“What’s the plan?” Owen asked. “Emma sits around and matches every single one of them?”

“We will see.”

Owen shook his head. “This isn’t for the good of the world. No, it’s for the good of you. The gods made Matchmakers for humans only. They were not produced for us.”

“You’re going to be difficult?” When Owen didn’t respond, Falconer sighed. I wanted to intervene, to smooth all the ruffled feathers before something happened to Owen, but I was clueless as to how.

“I hate to do this, Owen, but I must.” Falconer glared down his long nose. “You can no longer protect her, you are not powerful enough. She needs the Consulate.”

I stiffened. Wait, what did he mean?

Owen’s gaze hardened.

“You are no longer in charge of the Matchmaker.”

My heart sank, the denial frozen upon my lips. No, they couldn’t do this, could they?

“Her name is Emma, and you can’t take away our bond,” Owen stated, sounding so sure that I dared to hope. “Only the gods can.”

Falconer stepped closer and lowered his voice. “You’d be surprised by what I can do.”

Owen’s gaze narrowed, his body tight with fury. I wanted to reach out to him, to tell him to just go along with it, that everything would be fine. For now, we had to pretend. I couldn’t. I could just stand there, stupidly, my hand tight around Owen’s.

“Is that a threat?” Owen said softly, too softly.

“A warning. Do not stand in the way of the Consulate.” He turned, the robe flaring wide, and in a blink the man was gone, reappearing on the platform below. As he left, I realized one very important thing…

Now that everyone in the Otherworld knew who I was and what I could do, there was no way Owen and I could escape.

Hell, I was truly and completely trapped.

Chapter 17

Owen

“You can’t just take another person’s Matchmaker,” Petunia whispered, scooting her chair closer to mine. She’d moved a little too close, I realized, as her thigh brushed my knee.

The urge to lift her, chair and all, and move her to the next table overwhelmed me. I appreciated her loyalty, especially given the fact that I’d dumped her over a year ago. But sometimes I wondered if it wasn’t loyalty that motivated her as much as the hope that we’d end up back together. That wasn’t going to happen.

Not now. Not ever.

“Apparently you can if you’re Falconer.”

“But…why would he?”

I glanced around the library just to make sure, but no one was visible. We were completely alone. Everyone else was out celebrating the discovery of Emma. Still, I didn’t trust the walls, and frankly, even though I’d known her for years, I wasn’t sure I trusted Pet either. Someone had told the demons about Emma’s power, and someone had set her up in town last week.

“Some shite about her being the most powerful Matchmaker they’ve seen in years. He doesn’t think I can protect her.”

The words were difficult to say because in some ways I wondered if they were true. Had Clarice been killed because of this mess? Maybe Emma’s aunt had been more powerful than I’d realized, which would explain Emma’s ability. But who had killed her…an Underworld being, or had an Otherworldly being betrayed her? Honestly, it could have been either. And now Emma was out there alone.

I rested my head in my palms, exhausted.

Pet’s hand on my back made me stiffen in unease, instead of offering the comfort she’d intended. “It will work out for the good, you’ll see.”

I straightened, pulling a book forward, trying to shrug off her touch. There were more important things to worry about. I hadn’t asked for her help, and frankly, I wished she’d leave. But she wasn’t getting the hint. I wasn’t sure if she ever would. I was a bloody idiot for thinking we could be friends.

Pet was silent for a moment, which was odd for her. “Is it true?” she asked. “Is she more powerful than most?”

“Maybe.” But that wasn’t correct. I knew the truth. If she weren’t powerful, those damn demons wouldn’t have sensed her so quickly. If she weren’t powerful, Falconer wouldn’t have been so quick to take over her training. “Yeah. She is.”

She didn’t respond, merely remained mute as she pulled a book forward and started to slowly flip through the pages. I knew Pet well enough to know she was pouting for some reason, but I didn’t give a shite. I was angry. Hell, more than angry, and not Petunia, not even Jotham could calm me. There had been only a few instances in the past when a Matchmaker had been taken away…when those Protectors hadn’t done their job. Hell, they’d been drunks, even a drug addict or two.

When they’d taken Emma from me, they were proclaiming to all that I wasn’t worthy enough. I shoved my book aside, so angry that I pushed it a little too hard and it flew across the table, landing with a thud to the floor. “Hell.”

Pet slid me a glance that told me all I needed to know…she thought I was going mad.

Maybe I was. I hadn’t seen Emma all day and my skin itched, my body uneasy with her so far away. I knew she was ensconced in Falconer’s chambers, making matches. Jotham kept me well informed.

Perhaps I should have sent word to Emma explaining why I hadn’t been in touch. If she knew I was attempting to uncover some loophole that would put her back into my incapable hands, she might be more forgiving. I could tell her that Seb was researching, and even Jotham was helping. But what if it didn’t work out? What if she hated me all over again because I’d failed? And so I said nothing…letting her think I’d abandoned her because I wouldn’t be able to stand seeing the disappointment in her eyes. Hell, maybe she was better off with the Consulate.

I sensed Seb a brief moment before he appeared, the air a few tables away shimmering right before he took shape. The look upon his face told me everything I needed to know. He had something.

“If you’ll excuse me.” I didn’t wait for Petunia’s response, but moved quickly across the open space, past the empty tables and far enough away that hopefully she wouldn’t hear. “What did you find?”

“I’ve checked with the guards, and no one other than Matchmakers and Protectors were allowed access the night Clarice died.” He slid his hands into his jeans pockets. He was uneasy, which made me uneasy as well. “So, if she was murdered, it was by a Protector or a Matchmaker.”

“Protector.”

“How do you know?”

I raked my hands through my hair. I’d known, hadn’t I? All this time my gut was crying out the truth, but I hadn’t wanted to admit it. “The night it happened, I felt off. I went to check on her, and outside her chambers, in the hall, I could sense the energy of a Protector. I thought nothing of it, as Protectors walked that hall constantly. I should’ve known better.”

“We all thought she had died of natural causes, Owen. How could you have known that she might have been murdered?”

Instinct, damn it all. Why didn’t I trust mine? “I should’ve known.”

“A Protector.” Seb sighed and I knew what he was thinking: If Protectors were involved, this could shake up the entire system. “Will you tell the Consulate?”

I crossed my arms over my chest. “No. How can I when I don’t know who to trust?”

He nodded, and I knew he understood. There was a part of Seb, although he wouldn’t admit it out loud, that blamed the Consulate for his girlfriend’s death. “What will you do?”

“Get Emma and get the hell out of here.”

He quirked a brow, amusement flashing in his dark eyes. “And you think you can, with this many people about?”

I glanced around the room, but could sense no one other than Petunia. Still, I kept my voice low. “It’s the best time, isn’t it? With this many people around, it’s easy to come and go.”

Seb stepped closer, lowering his voice. Any amusement was gone from his gaze. “You understand what you’re doing? You’re going to basically steal Consulate property.”

My anger flared. “She’s not a bloody object. She’s a human being.”

“I know that, don’t get your knickers in a knot.” He slid a glance toward Petunia. She’d been sitting there watching us the entire time. He obviously didn’t trust her. Neither did I. “But they don’t. If you take her, they will consider it stealing. Not only will the Consulate be in an uproar, but the entire Otherworld will be searching for her. You, my friend, will be public enemy number one.”

“They won’t find her.”

He smiled a half smile. “The elusive cottage.”

“Only you and Jotham know the location, and I trust you to keep the secret.”

He lifted his hands in surrender. “I have this long, and I will take it to my death.”

“If only Clarice had stayed at that cottage, she would have been safe. But she had insisted on coming to the monthly meeting, she’d had something important to say. I could sense her nervousness, her excitement.”

Slowly, things were starting to fall into place. I had no doubt that whatever she knew had gotten her killed.

“Even if she had, she couldn’t have stayed there forever.”

I knew what he was implying. Emma might be safe there for a while, but it would be no better than being in a glorified prison. “She’ll be protected there.” I crossed my arms over my chest. “I know I can’t keep her there forever, but for now it will do.”

“Will she be protected? Can you save her from the Consulate, the Otherworld, and the Underworld? One man?”

I wasn’t offended; it was a valid question. “I will, at least until I can find proof of Clarice’s murder.”

Seb nodded slowly. I wasn’t sure if he doubted me, and I didn’t care. I would do whatever it took to see that Emma remained safe, whether it meant giving up my own career and becoming the enemy to the very people who had saved my life over a decade ago. Eager to move on, I started to head back to the table.

“There’s one more thing.”

I paused, glancing back. “Yeah?”

Seb shifted, looking uncomfortable, so unlike him that I couldn’t help but frown. “I…worry about her sister. I’ve been checking on her from afar, as you asked. But if this blows up, if they think Emma is dead, will they go after the sister?”

Unease sent a shiver over my body. Hell, I hadn’t even thought about her family. If anything happened to Lizzie, Emma would never forgive me. Fortunately, I knew Seb had a plan. “What are your thoughts?”

Seb rubbed the dark scruff upon his chin. The guy looked like he was being forced to eat something rotten. “I want…to take her into seclusion.”

Shocked, I studied his features, looking for signs of suspicion. Why the hell would he care about Lizzie? Yeah, Seb was my friend, my best mate, actually. But since when did he have empathy for anyone but himself? “Why?”

He flushed, actually flushed. “She’s so damn innocent. She trusts everyone—”

“In other words, the complete opposite of Emma.”

Seb grinned and I couldn’t help but smile back. In that moment, I finally understood. Bloody hell, Seb actually liked Lizzie. “All right,” I said a bit warily. “I’ll trust you to protect her.”

He released a wry laugh. “Trust me? As if I’d do anything to harm her? Please, the woman is a damn menace. If anything, you should be worried about me.”

I released a wry laugh. “Right.”

“No, truly, I’m honored you trust me with the chit,” he said dryly. “Believe me, I’d rather be at the bleedin’ dentist than with her.”

Yeah, he was definitely protesting too much. I was still grinning when Seb disappeared and I started back to the table, still stunned when I settled in the chair next to Pet’s. Seb actually had feelings for someone. He’d been so destroyed when his Matchmaker had died that I hadn’t thought he’d ever recover. I only hoped he didn’t hurt Lizzie, because then I’d have to hurt him for Emma’s sake.

“You were talking about Emma?” Pet asked as I pulled a book forward. It was less a question and more of an accusation.

“Yes.” What was she getting at? There was meaning behind her question. There was always meaning in everything she said or did. Whatever it was, I didn’t have time to appease her.

“What’s she like?”

I resisted the urge to tell her to leave me the hell alone. Shite, I didn’t want to deal with this. Not now. I knew why she was fishing for answers, and I didn’t have time for her jealousy. Seb had been right when he’d told me months ago that Pet hadn’t gotten over me.

She rested her hand on my forearm. “Owen?”

I shrugged, not daring to make eye contact. No, that’s what she was looking for…some sort of affirmation that we had a connection. “She’s…normal.”

Like no one I’ve ever met. Strong. Stubborn. Beautiful.

She pulled her hand away and focused on a book. I could tell by the stiffness of her shoulders that my response hadn’t been natural enough. Pet knew Emma and I had a connection. Hell, she should know; she had fallen for her Matchmaker. “She’s young.”

“Yeah.”

“Like…our age.”

“Yeah.” What was she getting at? Whatever it was, I knew it couldn’t be good. I tossed my book aside and grabbed another. I was just about to hint that maybe she should head to her chambers so I could work when she got to the point.

“You like her.”

It wasn’t a question. “Yeah,” I said, admitting the truth. “I do.”

Frantic, she scooted back, knocking a book off the table in the process. It hit the floor with a thud. “I’m sorry, I should have…” Her voice caught as she trailed off.

Guilt and annoyance combined. Still, I could admit I felt bloody bad about dumping her, even a year later. But we’d only dated a bleeding six months. What’d she want? A proposal?

“No, you’re fine.” We both leaned down at the same time, reaching for the book. Our fingers brushed. I paused and she froze, sucking in a sharp breath. I felt nothing, but then our relationship had fizzled out pretty quickly. She was pretty, and yeah, I’d noticed. But I knew I couldn’t be tied down. I thought she’d felt the same way. But as she shivered next to me, I realized that she hadn’t felt nothing after all.

“Why?” she whispered, her breath warm on my face.

I lifted my gaze, meeting her tear-filled eyes. “You know why, we don’t have time for relationships.”

Her lower lip quivered. “You would with her.”

“Pet, you know I can’t—”

Before I could get the excuse out, she leaned forward and pressed her lips to mine.

********

Emma

“Concentrate, Emma,” Falconer said, the sternness of his tone not going unnoticed.

I didn’t want to freaking concentrate. It felt like I was working at a factory. Get everyone matched as quickly as possible, one after the other. They might as well have been sitting on a conveyer belt. I shifted, the heat of the fireplace where I stood overwhelming.

But it didn’t work that way, as I soon found out. Yeah, the first few matches had gone through without a hitch. I felt like I was doing something positive, the energy rushing through me in a sweet wave of pure bliss. But when I hit my first stalemate, it had gone downhill from there. They didn’t understand why it wouldn’t work. Unfortunately, I did.

How was I supposed to tell the governor of the fairies that he apparently wasn’t evolved enough for a match? That the universe, the gods, whatever, didn’t think he was mature enough to have a soul mate quite yet? After I’d held his hands and drawn a big blank, he hadn’t taken it well. And that wasn’t the first fail. Nope, just the first in a long line.

“What do you mean, you don’t feel anything?” The softly spoken being in front of me tortured me with her large, innocent eyes. She wanted it badly; I had a feeling she wanted it too badly and that was why she wasn’t ready. Hadn’t Falconer said that the moment you didn’t think you needed a soul mate was the moment you found yours? She was desperate. Love and desperation didn’t go hand in hand.

I wasn’t even sure what the heck she was—pale as shimmering snow, white hair that was almost silver, pale blue eyes—she was as delicate-looking and fragile as a snowflake. And when her lower lip quivered as if she might burst into tears, I wanted to hightail it out of there. Yeah, emotions made me slightly uncomfortable, especially coming from this childlike woman.

Twenty beings I’d tried to match. Fifteen matched, five blanks. Duds.

She, apparently, would be number six.

And she wasn’t taking it well. God, I hated it when people cried. That steel heart of mine tended to rust. I glanced toward Jotham for help, but he merely sat in a chair by the fireplace, looking as unemotional and as unhelpful as always.

“Perhaps,” the tall, scary-looking man looming behind her snapped out. “You should try again.”

Ah, yes, the proud father. He was some important being in the Otherworld. I had a feeling I didn’t want him on my bad side. Too late. I gave them a tight smile. Exhausted, my head throbbed, my body ached, and frankly I was tired of trying to appease others. I glanced at Falconer, seated in one of two chairs near the hearth. Jotham was sitting in the other. Instead of saving me, Falconer merely gave the tiniest nod. I had to resist the urge to sigh. He wasn’t going to let me give up anytime soon.

Where the hell was Owen when I needed him?

I closed my eyes and took her pale, delicate hands in mine. She was so beautiful and elegant that I felt like an ogre next to her. Taking in a deep breath, I prayed to the gods that they’d show mercy and give me a freaking vision.

Nothing.

Yeah, the gods sucked.

I was about ready to release her hands and tell her I was done, better luck next time, when I felt the oddest stirring in my body…like a tingle of awareness.

Lie, a voice whispered through my mind.

Startled, I stiffened, but didn’t dare open my eyes. Had I imagined the word? Not Owen. Nope, this was…Oh my God, I think it was Falconer.

Do you understand? he added. Lie to her.

I swallowed hard, trying to keep my face devoid of emotion even though my heart hammered so hard that I was certain they’d see it pounding in my chest. “I think…” I hated lying. Okay, that wasn’t true. I’d made my living by lying. But this…for some reason seemed really, really wrong.

“Yes?” Snowflake girl whispered breathlessly, desperately.

Lie, Falconer said and I didn’t miss the tone. It wasn’t a suggestion, but a demand. According to Owen, I should only be matching humans. It was bad enough that I was matching these Otherworldly beings, and now…now Falconer wanted me to lie. Yet, as much as it sucked, I knew I had to fib in order to prevent a war. But what would happen when they realized I lied?

They wouldn’t accept that they weren’t ripe; they thought they were above humans and therefore ready for love. In other words, they were arrogant and egotistical. I cleared my throat. “Paris. He’s in Paris, but that’s all I’m getting.”

I opened my eyes. Her face had flushed with excitement, the only color in her pale body. “You’re sure that’s it?”

I nodded, all I could do. I was too afraid to speak, afraid they’d read the truth in my tone. The way her father watched me, I suspected he had a feeling I’d lied. They’d find out soon enough. But at least it would give me time to think of another plan. Time to discuss this with Owen.

“Come along,” her father demanded.

She stood and leaned over, pressing a kiss to my cheek. “Thank you!”

Like that, leaving behind the scent of spring and flowers, she was gone. But it wasn’t over. Nope. I had about twenty other people milling around, waiting their turn, a small group inside and apparently a line out the door. The moment Snowflake left, they swiveled their heads toward me, waiting eagerly for their name to be called.

Falconer surged to his feet, weaved around a family of elves, and paused near me. “Five more—”

“No,” I snapped.

Falconer seemed startled by my outburst. Jotham stood and moved quickly toward us, sensing an argument. “She needs rest.”

Thank God for small favors. At least someone was on my side here.

Falconer sighed. “Fine. But we are starting this up again tomorrow morning.”

No surprise. Couldn’t wait. I ignored the rumble of protest coming from the other beings waiting to be matched, gave Jotham a grateful smile, and then fled toward the door. I couldn’t breathe. But as I burst into the corridor, I was startled to see a line of beings down the hallway, waiting for me. At least thirty. They all grew silent, staring hard, probably wondering where I was headed. I darted left, racing down an adjacent corridor. I didn’t care if he was avoiding me, I needed to see Owen.

“Miss Watts.” Jotham suddenly appeared next to me.

I resisted the urge to sigh. Sadly, I was so used to people appearing and disappearing that I didn’t even stumble. Just when I’d thought I’d actually escaped…

“You did well, my dear.”

I continued to walk, unsure of where I was going. Anywhere was better than Falconer’s chambers. “Thank you.”

“You deserve your rest. I’ll speak with Falconer about perhaps matching fewer tomorrow.”

“I’d appreciate that.” Seriously, did the guy not see I was eager to get the heck out of here? When Owen had said we were going to France, I hadn’t known that I’d be stuck inside the entire time. “You don’t happen to know where Owen is, do you?”

He reached out, resting a gentle hand on my arm. “Emma…we need to talk.”

I slowed my steps, my unease flaring. “You look pretty serious.”

“My dear, Owen is not your Protector anymore.”

I paused, releasing a harsh laugh. “You’re not serious, are you?”

“You heard Falconer last night.”

I threw my arms wide. “Yeah, but he didn’t mean…forever, did he?”

“He did. I’m afraid Falconer never jests.” He looked serious, so freaking serious. Oh God, he wasn’t kidding. “You’ll be protected by the Consulate now.”

My anger flared. “So they can use me?”

He didn’t respond and I knew I was right. Damn it all, where the heck was Owen? Why hadn’t he fought for me, at the least, sent a freaking letter to explain? “Where is he?”

The old man sighed. “I believe he’s in the library.”

I turned and started down the hall, leaving Jotham behind. He’d sworn he wouldn’t abandon me. He’d said he was here for me. The doors to the library were open, and the closer I stalked to them, the angrier I became. He’d said his job was to protect me. So, where the hell was Owen? I moved into the library and headed down an aisle, searching for him.

I heard the soft murmur of conversation and followed the sound. Who the heck was with him? It sounded like a girl.

I turned right and found Owen and Petunia…kissing.

My heart dropped, a cold chill racing through my body. For what seemed like eternity, I could only stand there, staring. As Owen reached up to Pet’s shoulders, reality slapped me full on the face. Horrified, I spun around and started back toward the door. My entire body had grown numb. I couldn’t think; I could barely breathe. I only knew I needed to escape. Stupid, I was so damn stupid to trust him.

“Emma,” Owen called after me.

I ignored him, hurrying my steps. Suddenly he appeared in front of me. Unable to stop myself in time, I stumbled into him. “Damn it, Owen!”

The numbness fled as soon as it had arrived and piercing pain mixed with heated anger. I slammed my fists against his shoulders before shoving away and stumbling back. “Get the hell away from me.”

“It’s not what you—”

“Not what I think?” I released a harsh laugh. “I’ve been here before, remember? Seen it plenty of times in my line of work. You’re here with Petunia instead of watching after me, that’s what I think. What happened to your job? What happened to never abandoning me?”

“I was researching—”

“Don’t.” Shaking my head in disgust, I started around him. I wasn’t sure which hurt more, that he had abandoned his job so easily, or that he had kissed Petunia.

He gripped my upper arm. “Emma, please—”

“You’ve moved on. Given up.” I jerked away from him and released a harsh laugh. “That didn’t take long. So much for never leaving my side.”

“I didn’t have a choice!” He started after me, his jaw set with anger. “I’ve been researching, whether you want to believe me or not. I’m trying to figure out how the hell to get you back under my watch.”

I moved toward the open door. “Don’t bother.”

“Emma, she kissed me. Don’t do this, you know I have no feelings for her.”

I paused on the threshold, my heart begging me to believe him. If I believed him, I’d be no better than those housewives I’d worked for. Maybe someday after falling so deeply in love with him, I’d find out he’d cheated on me and then…and then I’d be destroyed. I couldn’t let that happen.

“You forget, Owen. I know better.”

“Emma.” He sighed. “We need to talk—”

“Don’t follow me, I mean it.” I stepped through the door and slammed it shut.

Frantic to escape, I raced up the steps of the arena. I heard the door open, knew he watched me, but prayed he wouldn’t follow. I needed time alone. Time to think, and I couldn’t think when he was near.

I fled through the door and into the hall, then darted right. I needed Lizzie, someone to talk to, someone who would take my side. But Lizzie was an ocean away. Alone, I was alone.

My footsteps slowed as I let the silence wash over me. Could I trust Owen? I sank back against the wall and slid to the ground, my knees to my chest. Dare I trust Owen? He was the only one I had here. My heart wanted to believe in him, but my mind…my rational mind told me he was just like every other guy. He’d kept things from me, he’d lied, he’d abandoned me.

Tears of frustration burned my eyes. My hands fisted against the floor, my anger growing with each moment I thought about him. I wouldn’t sit around feeling sorry for myself, and I sure as hell wasn’t going to let the Consulate use me.

Sniffing back my unshed tears, I surged to my feet. Time to take control of my life. I didn’t need this crap; I was in charge of me, no one else. I was leaving. I was going back to Lizzie, back to Michigan, back to doing what I knew best…catching cheating husbands.

Determined, I started down the hall when a shiver of unease raced over my skin. I froze. I knew without looking that someone was behind me. Not Owen. The energy was different somehow. Just as I was getting ready to turn and confront the being, muscled arms wrapped around my waist, jerking me back into a hard chest.

“If you know what’s best for you, you won’t fight,” someone whispered in my ear.

Chapter 18

Owen

“Owen, Owen, are you awake?”

I resisted the urge to sigh as I rolled to my back. Petunia leaned over my bed, wearing nothing but a short white nightgown. Bloody hell, I couldn’t deal with this right now. I rubbed my hands over my face, praying she was just some nightmare. She and I needed to have a long-overdue talk.

“Owen?”

“What is it?” I sat up, the room spinning, Pet wavering in and out of focus.

Vaguely I was aware that I still wore my trainers, jeans, and T-shirt. Had I actually dozed off? No, impossible. I hadn’t slept in a long, long while. Still, the muddled feeling in my mind was odd, something I’d never experienced before. What had happened last night?

“Your reputation is vindicated!” She did a little hop, thrilled, although I hadn’t a clue what she was talking about.

Bloody hell, my head felt fuzzy. Almost as if…as if someone had drugged me. Slowly I stood, my heart slamming against my rib cage in denial. Drugged, or more likely someone had used a spell on me. I reached out, gripping the bedpost for support. Shite, I needed to find Emma and fast.

Petunia stepped closer, frowning. “Did you hear me?”

I glanced toward the windows. It was dark. How long had I been out? “What?”

How much time had passed? I searched my memory, attempting to recall the evening. Emma…I’d been heading after Emma…going up those steps and then…nothing. I stumbled across the room, my legs leaden. I couldn’t bloody control my own body any longer. Someone had wanted me out of the way. I reached for the lamp and pulled the switch. The room burst into life, making my throbbing head flare with pain.

“The nerve of them, to make it seem like you couldn’t handle her, and now…” She released a loud chuckle and paced my room, her slippers swooshing against the floorboards. Everything seemed loud…too damn loud. “That will teach them.”

“Pet, Christ, what the bloody hell are you talking about?”

She spun around to face me, her eyes sparkling with triumph and laughter. “They lost her!”

I didn’t know what the bloody hell she was talking about and didn’t have time to play her games. I had to find Emma, make sure she was well. I moved past Pet and pulled the T-shirt over my head, tossing it to the bed. When I found out who had drugged me, they’d pay.

“The nerve,” Pet continued, as if I actually cared what the Consulate thought of me.

We’d leave. No matter what, I was getting her out of here. The cottage. Clarice’s cottage would be a safe base…for now. I reached the wardrobe and pulled out a white button-down shirt.

“Owen, don’t you know?” Petunia sounded shocked, and that’s when the alarm bells went off. Something had happened to Emma.

My shirt in hand, slowly I turned to face her. “Tell me.”

“Your Matchmaker!”

My veins turned to ice, my fear so real, it brought a bitter taste to my mouth. “What?”

“Your Matchmaker is missing!”

I froze. In the middle of my room, I froze. I couldn’t move, my body no longer worked. Frantically, I reached out with my senses, trying to find her. Nothing. Hell, she was out there alone? Suddenly everything made sense. The abduction attempts, the spell that had made me sleep. “How? When?”

She shrugged as if it made no difference. “Sometime last night.”

I glanced at the clock. Four in the morning. Shite, shite, shite! I jerked my shirt on, not bothering to button it. This was my fault. All of it. I started toward the wardrobe and grabbed my dagger, sliding it into the waistband of my jeans.

“Owen, do you realize what his means? They implied you couldn’t handle her, and now they have to eat crow and accept the blame!”

“What it means,” I growled as I started toward the door. “Is that she’s out there unprotected.”

Her smile fell.

“How long has she been missing?” I asked as I reached for the door handle. I couldn’t sense Emma…why couldn’t I sense her? I felt like someone had reached inside and torn a vital organ from my body. Hell. She was off property; that’s why I couldn’t sense her.

She shrugged.

“How long?” I demanded, startling her so that her lower lip quivered. I didn’t have time for her emotional baggage right now. Would I forever be punished for those few months of dating? She either didn’t realize how important this was, or was too self-centered to care.

“I don’t know. Someone went to check on her just a bit ago and found her missing. They’ve searched the castle.”

“Shite.” I tore open the door and ran into the hall. They wanted Emma for her powers, but would they go to war to win her back? Yes, she was more powerful than most, but war would mean lives lost. They had other Matchmakers to take her place.

I turned a corner and in my haste I almost slammed into Pet. She disappeared just in time, reappearing beside me. “Owen, I want to help.”

Hell, why couldn’t she leave me alone? “Tell me everything you know. What happened? Where is she?”

She rested her hand on my shoulder. “It’s bad news.”

Now she cared? It wouldn’t work. I shrugged off her touch, in no mood. “What happened?”

She shook her head, her lower lip quivering as if on cue. Bloody hell, how had I not noticed how fake she was? “We don’t know, but we do know she’s gone.”

Gone. Emma wasn’t here. I couldn’t sense her. It was as if a very part of me was missing, leaving behind something cold, and empty. I moved past her, knowing she’d follow, and headed down the hall toward Emma’s room. Halfway there I disappeared, reappearing inside her chamber. It still smelled like her…warm vanilla with the slightest sweetness of lilacs. But she was gone, I could sense it. Feel it in my soul. Gone from the castle, maybe even the town. A cold numbness washed over me. My fault. All of it was my fault.

“How did she leave?” I asked, my voice catching with emotion. “What about the guards?”

“No one saw a thing.”

Numbness gave way to anger. Furious, I spun around to face her. “They’re lying! Someone is lying!”

She nodded, looking startled by my outburst. “They’ve sent men to Michigan in case she returns home.”

“She’s not there, they know that.”

“How do you know for sure?” She spread her arms wide. “She wasn’t happy here. There is hope.”

But she was happy…with me. Wasn’t she? Until that moment she’d spotted Pet and me kissing. I’d ruined everything, all the trust she’d had in me. The truth was, I’d been so shocked I hadn’t pulled away from Pet as quickly as I should have.

For one long moment I stood there, fighting for answers. Hell, maybe she had returned home. I started to turn toward the door, intending to transport to Michigan and see for myself, when I spotted the stuffed animal on the floor. Half hidden under the bed, it could have easily been overlooked.

“She left her cat.”

Pet stepped closer, those perfectly plucked brows drawn together in confusion. “Her what?”

“Her cat.” I moved across the room and knelt by the bed. The blankets were still smooth, not a wrinkle. “She didn’t sleep here at all last night.”

I reached out, picking up the worn gray cat, soft with age. “She never would have left without the stuffed animal. Which means last night someone took her.” Most likely after she’d seen Petunia and me kissing. Someone had taken her. I was sure of it.

She’d been unprotected and it was my fault. My anger flared, burning through my body. I dropped the cat to the bed. “I will find her, and when I uncover who has taken her, who has betrayed us, they will pay.”

I spun around, intending to leave, when I met Petunia’s gaze. Her pupils were wide, her breath coming out in shallow pants, a fine sheen of sweat, so fine a normal human wouldn’t have noticed, glistened across her forehead.

Suddenly, I knew.

It all made sense, didn’t it? I disappeared, reappearing directly in front of her. Before she could scream I had her by the throat, slamming her against the wall. “Where the hell is she?”

Pet clawed at my hands, her gaze pleading. “Owen, please, you’re scaring me!”

I tightened my grip. “Don’t lie to me, tell me now! Where is Emma?”

Pet flinched but didn’t answer.

I felt Falconer’s energy right before he addressed me. “Owen, dear God, what are you doing?”

I released Pet and spun around to face the man. He wasn’t alone; I could see the guards in the hallway, drawn to Pet’s frantic energy. “Emma is missing.”

“Yes, we will find her. There is nothing to worry about—” Falconer broke off as he got a look at Pet’s pale face. “Are you well, my dear?”

I didn’t give a shite if she was okay. “Someone took her, and Pet knows who.”

“I don’t!” she cried out, pressing her hands to her throat as tears streamed from her eyes. “He’s gone insane! Crazy!”

Falconer’s gaze shifted to me, a wariness there that had me wishing I’d left the castle and searched on my own when I had the chance. “Owen, you are being ridiculous.”

I ignored Falconer, focusing my senses on the man, taking in his pupils, his breathing…had he been involved? My heart slammed wildly in my chest. I wanted to scream; I wanted to kill someone. Hell, I didn’t know who to trust anymore.

Falconer started toward me, his steps slow and cautious as if he approached a wild animal. “You don’t know—”

“I know!”

“Calm down,” Falconer hissed.

A few guards moved into the room, drawn by my anger. I’d become the enemy, when only months ago I’d been their ideal Protector. But months ago I hadn’t known the truth; I’d been blinded by my loyalty.

“I will not calm down,” I seethed. “You said you’d protect her!”

Falconer paused a few steps from me, the guards behind him, just waiting for an order. “Young man, I do not like your tone.”

“An Otherworldly being must have taken her, or at least had a hand in her abduction. We both know that, you just don’t want to admit it.”

“There are many visiting the Consulate at the moment.”

So he thought to place the blame on a fairy or elf? Typical.

“Owen, please,” Pet whispered. “We are your friends.”

“Are you truly that jealous?” I asked, turning my anger on her. “That you’d give the life of another to appease your petty vengeance?” I stepped closer to them both. “Know this…when I find out who was involved, that person will pay with their life.”

********

Emma

When I woke up, I saw steel bars and cement flooring.

To be honest, it wasn’t the first time I’d been in a cell, but this was definitely different. I wouldn’t have any grandmother to bail me out, and I hadn’t been put in prison for trespassing…for the fifth time. No, I’d ended up here when I’d done nothing wrong but trust the Consulate.

I shoved my hands against the moldy mattress I lay upon and managed to somehow get to my feet. The room around me spun, as if I’d been drugged. I gripped the bars for support, waiting for my brain to stop thrumming.

Something had happened…something…

I took in a deep breath, trying to relax my tight lungs, but nothing seemed to work. It only made me dizzier. I’d been in a hall at the castle when someone had grabbed me from behind. Yeah, that sounded right. I’d been running…running because Owen had been kissing Petunia. Oh God, that hadn’t been a dream. I gripped the bars and leaned forward, resting my head against the cold steel.

I wasn’t sure which was more disgusting…the memory of them kissing, or the scent of refuse that surrounded me in my dungeon. This was what I got for trusting a man. I shoved my hands against the bars with an angry growl and stumbled back.

Where the hell was I?

Slowly, I turned. Three walls of stone, one wall of bars. Was I even still in the castle, or had I been carried outside the walls? I squeezed my eyes shut and thought of Owen.

Where are you?

He didn’t respond. He didn’t appear, surprising me. I leaned back against the stone wall. I was really alone. It was almost as if the stone ceiling and walls surrounding my cage insulated me from the outside world, from life. Other than the soft drip of condensation coming from somewhere in those dark shadows, the place was completely silent. I went to the bars and peered down the halls as far as I could. Nothing but more stone. Only a few windows high up on the wall provided weak light.

Frustrated, I paced along the barred wall, looking for a way to escape. There had to be a way out. As soon as I escaped this mess I was headed back to Michigan, back to a life I understood. I sighed, feeling the sting of tears. How had I lost control of my world? I rested my head on the bars. Who was I kidding? I’d never had control. No, I was doing PI work that I didn’t really enjoy, using Lizzie as an excuse not to move on.

I shook the bars. “Damn it!”

If I got out of this mess. I paced the cage, wondering who had abducted me. At this point, I had a long list of enemies. They could have killed me, but they hadn’t. No, I was here for a reason…and I had no doubt that reason was to match. And when they came for me, wanting to use my powers, I would get my chance to escape, my chance to start over. I had to believe that.

“Pretty, pretty bird,” someone said in a singsong voice that sent a shiver over my skin. From the far corner of the room, a dark shadow emerged. “I’ve been watching you.”

A vampire. I could tell the moment he stepped into the light from the windows above. Long, greasy hair, pale face, evil grin…yep. My very own creepy stalker. Lucky me. I had to resist the urge to step back. Where would I go anyway?

“I’ve heard Matchmaker blood tastes ever so yummy.” He rubbed his hands together, his gleeful grin baring yellowed teeth. Who the hell was he? Maybe I wasn’t here to make matches. Unable to help myself, I took a step back, then another and another until my back hit the stone wall.

“Come in here and find out,” I snapped, annoyed with myself for being so afraid.

“Now, now,” someone else called out, the dark shadow moving down the hall. This man was taller, with broad shoulders. I couldn’t quite see him; I needed to see him. “I wouldn’t taunt him. Tipper isn’t exactly…right in the head, as you humans say.”

Tipper cackled again, as if they were speaking of someone else instead of him. Yep, definitely not right in the head. But the man who swept into the light from the window, headed directly toward me, wasn’t anything like the other dirty, nasty vamps I’d met. He wore a dark suit with a long black coat that swirled around polished boots. His pale face was ridiculously gorgeous and his dark hair short and stylish. I felt like I’d just stepped into one of Lizzie’s romance novels. But he was still a blood-sucking vampire, I had to remind myself.

“Just as with humans,” he explained, those pale blue eyes piercing me. “We have some vampires who have more of a conscience than others. Unfortunately, Tipper isn’t one of them.”

Tipper cackled, rubbing his knobby hands together. I resisted the urge to grimace. Psycho, serial killers…both thoughts came to mind when I looked into his dark, soulless eyes. They wanted me, they needed me, so why was I sweating?

“But I admit,” he said, pausing near my cage. “He is right.” He grinned. “Truly, I don’t mean to frighten you, but Matchmaker blood is rather sweet.”

I didn’t respond. He was trying to scare me. It was working, but I sure as heck wouldn’t let him know. “What the hell do you want?”

He bowed low. “Good morning.”

“Is it?” I said. “I wouldn’t know as I’ve been locked in a windowless cage.”

He smiled. “You’ve been treated terribly. I do apologize.” He paced in front of the bars. He must not have been too sorry because he didn’t bother to release me. “You see, Emma, we don’t want you to think of us as your enemy. On the contrary, if you work for us you’ll be handsomely rewarded.”

“Oh, silly me.” I laughed, crossing my arms over my chest. “I didn’t realize I was an honored guest. The moldy mat on the floor, the lack of water and food…your finest? How could I not have noticed?”

Tipper lifted his lips and hissed, apparently not finding my sarcasm amusing.

But the other man merely smiled, that grin so charming I almost fell for it. “As I said, it was a terrible mistake. One I shall rectify immediately.”

He reached for the lock and with a twist, broke it from the bars. My heart leapt into my throat. I had to resist the urge to stumble back. I would not show fear; I refused to give them that pleasure.

“I’m Bay. Now, shall we?” He swung the door wide. Tipper hovered in the shadows, watching, waiting for his chance. Crap, I actually felt safer in that cage. Slowly, I stepped from my barred box and into the hall.

“Tipper, my boy, do run to the kitchens. I’m sure Cook has something lovely for you.”

In a flash, he was gone, so fast he was a mere blur. But one thing struck me hard…Tipper wasn’t running upstairs for a hamburger and fries. No, because vampires drank blood…blood from humans. I swallowed hard, forcing the bile back down. I would survive this; I would not die this way.

He held out his arm, ever the gentleman. I paused, wondering if I should decline, but realized I needed to make friends with this guy, whoever he was. Frankly, I didn’t have any other choice at the moment. And so I slid my arm around his. The smile upon his lips deepened. He knew he’d won…for now.

“If you decide to stay with us, my dear.” We walked side by side up a narrow flight of stone steps and out of the dank and depressing dungeon. “You will find your stay to be quite luxurious.”

Why did I doubt that? He pushed open a door and we moved into a hall, the floors marble and walls a rich burgundy. I could hear people chatting in nearby rooms, laughter, the tinkle of silverware and china from somewhere down the hall, but couldn’t make out their words. The realization that I was in a house full of vampires sent a cold chill down my spine. But I wouldn’t let them know…never let them know you were afraid.

“Hold tight, my dear.”

I stiffened, confused. “What?”

He didn’t answer; he simply wrapped his arms around my waist and lifted me.

I shoved my hands against his stone-like chest but he didn’t budge. “Put me down!”

The entire world suddenly flew past me, so fast that I noticed only a blur of colors and objects, and wind so strong it whipped at my hair. Just as suddenly as the tornado started, it stopped, and the wind disappeared. Stunned and confused, I glanced around me. Gone was the marble flooring and in its place were polished wooden floorboards. Everything sparkled, from the floor to the golden sconces that hung on the walls.

“As a vampire, we are gifted with speed.”

Yeah, you could say they were fast in more than one way. “Where are we?”

He settled me down, only to cup my elbow when I started to sway. Our race through space had been too much for my body and mind. “I merely brought you upstairs. It’s to your liking?”

I looked at him, truly looked at him. His ridiculous speed was only a reminder of his supernatural ability, his strength. “Yeah, sure.”

A maid in a short black uniform, complete with white apron, scurried down the hall. “My lord.” She bowed before rushing away.

Lord? Was Bay the leader of the vampires?

“I want you to enjoy your time here.” He led me down the hall.

Although I wanted to jerk away, my legs were still too weak from our roller coaster ride upstairs. Large windows looked down over fields of blood-red poppies that swayed in the breeze. Where the hell were we? How far from the Consulate?

I took in a deep breath and tried to relax, remembering what Owen had told me about keeping my heart rate normal. I could not let him know how nervous he made me. “But if I live here, I’ll have no freedom. Surely you can understand why I might be a bit nervous about being locked inside with blood-sucking vampires?”

We paused outside a door and he took both of my hands in his, pressing them to his hard, cold chest. “And if I can promise no one here will harm you?”

Ha! Right. “How do I know I can trust you?”

“When I give my word, I mean it.”

As if I was going to believe him. Before I could respond, he turned and pushed open the door behind us. It was a large bedchamber with a massive four-poster bed against one wall. A marble fireplace glowed warmly from across the room, the logs already lit as if they’d been expecting me. The warm scent of roasted chicken wafted through the area, drawing my gaze to the side table where a tray rested, covered with a silver dome. My stomach clenched. Heck, I would have agreed to anything at that moment just to get something to eat.

I moved slowly into the room, feigning interest when in reality I wanted to make a mad dash for the door. All in good time. And if I couldn’t find a way to escape, surely the Consulate would be here soon, wouldn’t they?

His hands clasped behind his back, the vampire strolled toward me. “This, my dear, can be yours if you agree to stay and help us.”

I paused by the window, wondering if I could jump and make it out alive. But the second story was high, and the ground below rocky. I turned toward him. “And if I don’t agree?”

He frowned, his brows drawing together as if he were truly perplexed. “You seem to think we are out to harm you. Emma, when we brought you here merely to protect you.”

I resisted the urge to laugh. He was playing me, but that was fine. I’d participate in his game; I had no other choice. “Protect me from what, exactly? Because you’re the only people I know who actually feed on humans.”

“I gave you my word, no one will touch you.” He moved toward the side table that held my lunch. “Now it’s your choice, I suppose. You can work for us, or for them.”

He was giving me a choice? Why didn’t I believe him? “And why would I choose you over the Consulate?”

He lifted the dome off the tray and picked up a chunk of cheese. “Because, my dear, we haven’t been the ones trying to kill you.” He took a bite, chewing slowly while watching me.

“What do you mean?”

Hands clasped behind his back once more, he started toward me. “We have never intended to harm you. That dubious honor belongs to your friends…the Consulate.”

Chapter 19

Owen

The lead in the walls prevented escape by any means, as if they needed to protect themselves from me. They were covered with painted stucco, and I had a small, clean bed and even a side table with a lamp, but there was no doubt it was a prison in the bowels of the castle. I flattened my hands to the white walls. If they had been your typical stucco, I would have been long gone. If only I had suspected Pet from the beginning, but what sane person would abduct another merely because she was jealous? That had been my problem from the beginning…believing Pet was sane.

I shoved away from the wall and paced the small box. The Consulate obviously wanted me contained. But why? Did they fear I would bring to light their many mistakes? My suspicions? Or did Falconer truly believe I was the traitor Pet portrayed me to be?

I’d been a damn idiot for trusting anyone here. Bloody hell, Emma was out there, only the gods knew where, while I was trapped here because of my stupidity. I settled on the small bed. She was lost, unprotected, thinking I had abandoned her.

“Emma,” I whispered, knowing she couldn’t hear me. Couldn’t even bloody sense me.

I’d been so damn excited when I’d first arrived to the Consulate. Hell, I’d been happy to have the basics. But the basics weren’t enough. A person needed freedom, the ability to make their own choices and be respected for it…and lately I hadn’t exactly felt free here.

Why hadn’t I demanded the truth when I had the chance? Why hadn’t I listened to my instincts and fled with Emma when we could? “Damn it!”

I surged to my feet and slammed my fist into the wall, the pain immediate and throbbing. But I needed to feel something, anything other than the bitterly cold fear I felt for Emma.

“Well, that wasn’t very smart,” Seb said dryly from behind me.

Shocked, I spun around. Seb stood on the other side of the lead door, peering through the small window. I’d never been so happy to see him. “How’d you get down here?”

He shrugged, grinning. “I have my ways.”

I started toward the door, vaguely aware of the blood seeping from my abraded knuckles. “The guard was a female?”

“Of course. So easy to manipulate.” His grin deepened, and for once I ignored his sexist remark. “What the hell have you gotten yourself into? I mean, really, I’m gone only a day and you get arrested?”

“No,” I muttered. “They made it quite clear that I haven’t been arrested, I’m merely being kept in seclusion to protect me from myself.”

“You don’t say.” Seb gripped the bars and pulled, but the door didn’t budge. “How kind of them.”

Even if I couldn’t escape, there was still hope. Maybe, just maybe, Seb could find Emma before it was too late. “The walls are lead. I can’t use my powers to transport.”

Seb lifted his hand, a set of keys dangling from his fingertips. “That’s why I’ve got the keys.”

My hope leapt. I could hear the scrape of metal against metal as he unlocked the cell.

“The handy human way.”

When the door squeaked open, I raced past it to the outside. “Did they find her?”

“No.”

I’d known even before I had asked, but the hope was still there. “Bloody hell. Your weapons?”

“In my chamber.”

I disappeared. Emma had been gone a good twelve hours. The frantic need to find her overwhelmed me. Time was running out. I reappeared inside Seb’s bedroom chamber, Seb appearing next to me. I wasted no time and went to his wardrobe, grabbing a T-shirt and military-style dark green jacket.

“You should know that there’s talk you murdered Emma.”

I didn’t bother to defend myself from that ridiculous comment. Instead, I quickly dressed. “The vampires took her.”

Seb went to the nearest trunk and lifted the lid. “Most likely. Of course, the Consulate is trying to pin the blame on you.”

I pulled a dagger from the trunk, and lifted the leg of my jeans, strapping the knife to my ankle, and doing the same with another dagger to my left leg. I told myself that Emma still lived. She was smart, and they wanted her alive. But as the minutes ticked by, my worry escalated. They could take her anywhere, hide her within any country.

“And why would they do that?” Seb asked. “Try to pin it on you?”

I pressed my finger to the tip of the sword hanging on Seb’s wall, which was crisscrossed with its sheath for decoration. “Because one of them is guilty, obviously.”

Seb stood there watching me warily. I knew what he was thinking even before he said the words. “You don’t have to do this. She’s not your Matchmaker anymore. She’s their issue.”

He only meant to help, but his words still rankled. I pulled the sheath from the wall first and slipped the strap across my chest, letting it fall against my back. “I know.”

Seb took down the sword and handed it to me. “In fact, the Consulate will be rather angry with you. They might even charge you with her disappearance.”

I slid the sword into the sheath strapped between my shoulder blades. I barely paid attention to Seb, was only vaguely aware of what he said. I knew what I had to do. My mind was set; I was determined. This time they would not stop me.

“They’ll kick you out, Owen. You’ll no longer be accepted, and I know as well as you that this is your home. I also know what love can do to a person…destroy you. You belong within these hallowed walls more than anyone.”

“Not anymore.” I lifted a crossbow from the trunk. It was as much as I could carry without being weighed down. A sword, two daggers, and a crossbow…it would have to do.

“Merde, Owen.” Seb stepped in front of me, blocking my path to the door. He looked angry, and any other day I might have found it amusing to see something other than arrogance upon his face. “Infiltrate the vampire headquarters and you’ll be surrounded, you’ll be walking into a death trap. No one is going to come after you. You’ll get no help from the Consulate.”

I spun around to face him, annoyed now. He didn’t get it; he didn’t understand. Which was strange because I thought that he, above anyone, would. “I can’t leave her.”

He raked his hair back from his face, his movements frustrated. “They want to use her, not kill her. She’ll be fine. She will live, and maybe eventually we can figure out a way to get her back.”

I moved around him, my anger flaring. He didn’t get it, maybe he never would, or maybe the death of his Matchmaker had killed whatever heart he had left. “They will keep her alive until they don’t need her any longer, or until she can’t match them.”

Seb reached out, latching on to my arm, desperation in his tight grip. “Learn from my mistake, Owen. Don’t become too attached. It will destroy your soul, or worse, kill you. You can get another Matchmaker.”

“I don’t want another.” I shrugged him off. If there was a chance, no matter how small, that I could save her, I would do whatever it took. “Promise me you’ll look after her sister.”

He gritted his teeth, his eyes flashing with anger. “You’re right. I don’t know if Emma will survive, but I do know one thing for sure…step foot on vampire property and they will kill you.”

“So be it.” Without another word, I turned and strolled through the door.

********

Emma

The raucous roar of laughter vibrated the large stone dining room, annoying my frayed nerves. Vampires sure loved to party. Fortunately, they hadn’t laid out any humans on their buffet table…yet. Even though I was free, dressed in some sort of long white velvet gown and seated at the head table with Bay as if I were an honored guest, I didn’t feel any better. Then again, I supposed being the only human in a room of about fifty vampires during feeding time would make any human uneasy.

“Can’t we at least try her?” someone called out, to which everyone cheered and laughed.

The joke was lost on me. I refused to shiver, reminding myself they wanted me; they had to have me to take control of the Otherworld. But with their glowing eyes watching me from the dim shadows, it was a bit hard to believe. I lifted my goblet of water, ignoring the glass of white wine Bay had poured for me. I was shaking so badly, I could barely drink.

“Now, now,” Bay said as he grabbed a goblet of what I hoped was red wine. “I’ve told Ms. Watts that we are her friends. Don’t frighten the poor girl.”

There were a few more chuckles at my expense, making me flush. I was tired of being the butt of some nightmarish joke. Bay claimed he wanted me at dinner so that he might be able to introduce me as their savior. Bull. He was out to scare me.

“We need Ms. Watts, as you all know, if we are going to beat the Otherworld in their own game. So, who will be first?”

“What if we don’t want to be paired?” someone growled from the far corner of the room. “I like being able to screw anyone I want!”

I resisted the urge to sigh. Lovely. Just freaking lovely. A variety of male and female vampires cheered. Great, at the castle I’d had to deal with the overzealous who wanted me to match until I fainted. Here, no one wanted me. Which was worse, I wasn’t sure.

“But do you want power?” Bay asked, surging to his feet. “Or would you rather the Otherworld take over? Claim our lands, our people for their own?”

If they decided they didn’t want to be matched, what would they need with me? I glanced hopefully toward the doors. I fully expected the Consulate to be here at any moment. But then I’d expected them all last night while I’d lain awake in my huge four-poster bed, too terrified to sleep. I mean…I was valuable. Right? Surely they would come, white horses and all. Wouldn’t they?

Yet, as the moments ticked by and the conversation rose, people beginning to argue in earnest, I started to worry. Half the vampires had actually stood and managed to move closer, arguing heatedly with Bay. Apparently they appreciated true love about as much as I did. The other half were too drunk to care.

“I like me freedom,” one man growled, climbing onto the platform that held our table.

“Back!” The guards surrounding our table hissed, shoving at the man and sending him sprawling to the ground. He drew back his lips, hissing, those glowing eyes a brilliant red. And as he hissed, the others in the room also lifted their lips, hissing in return.

“Great, a hissing contest,” I whispered.

“Enough!” Bay roared, surging to his feet.

I had a horrible feeling that Bay didn’t actually have as much power over these bloodsuckers as he had let on. They hunched low, as if preparing to launch forward. Seething beasts…animals with glowing red eyes. I swallowed hard. Of the fifty or so vamps at least half were focused on me, just waiting to spring. I clutched the edges of my chair. Every fiber of my body screamed at me to run. But I knew better. Running would only make them react, like animals after prey.

“You will match, that’s the end of it.” Bay latched on to my arm a little too tightly, although I didn’t dare cry out, it would only feed their sick need for terror. He pulled me to my feet, the charming man I’d known gone. “She will match us and our powers will grow. If we don’t, it could be the end of our kind.”

As Bay dragged me around the table and toward the front of the platform, my nerves grew taut. “Umm, you realize it’s not a guaranteed thing, right?”

He jerked his glowing gaze to me. Yep, should have kept my mouth shut.

In a voice so low, no one could have heard it, he said, “You will match us and you’ll do it now.”

I gave a quick nod. “Yeah, sure.”

Hey, if I could lie to the Otherworld, why not to the Underworld?

“Crenilin, you shall go first.” Bay grabbed a stool and placed it in the center of the platform. One of the guards stumbled toward us, looking scared to death. Apparently the way to terrify a vampire was to mention true love. I sank onto the stool, waiting as Bay placed another chair next to mine.

My first match. Great.

The guard settled on the chair across from me. With almost fifty vampires watching, I took hold of his hands. They were cold, smooth. It was hard to believe he could kill me so easily with those fingers. I closed my eyes and drew in a deep, shaky breath. It took a long moment for me to block out the laughter and yelling of the other vampires. As my mind settled and my body grew blessedly numb I realized my instincts had been right.

Nothing. Not an inkling. Not even the slightest idea that there might be more. Only coldness. I had a horrible, terrible feeling that it would be the same with every single vampire here.

“Well?” Bay demanded.

The entire room grew quiet.

Slowly I opened my eyes and with the steely voice of someone who had to lie, or end up dead, I said, “Paris. A flower shop called De Blume.”

The room went into an uproar, but Bay grinned. I’d pleased him. They’d know soon enough that I lied, and then what? They’d kill me if I couldn’t match them; I had no doubt. The question was how long did I have before they uncovered the truth? I could only pray there wasn’t really some flower shop called De Blume in Paris. If so, that shop owner was in for a shock.

“Crenilin, leave,” Bay shouted with glee. “You have a match to find!”

The guard sighed before moving so fast, he was a mere blur as he left the building. I surged to my feet. Crap. Crap, crap. At their speed, I’d apparently have very, very little time before my lies were discovered.

“Who is next?” Bay asked.

As I glanced at the door for yet the hundredth time, I had the dreadful feeling that the Consulate wasn’t coming. Just like always, I was going to have to save myself. So be it. What did I know about vampires? Nothing. Okay, stakes. Yeah, I could break the chairs, use the legs as stakes, and then I could fly away in a UFO and live happily ever after! I wasn’t freaking Buffy; I couldn’t take on fifty vampires and come out the winner. Correction, forty-nine now that Crenilin had left.

“Rennie,” Bay called out. “Come up here!”

The man who had been pushed to the floor by the guards only moments ago started hesitantly toward us, his face furious. Hell, couldn’t Bay see that these vamps wanted to be matched about as much as the fates wanted me to match them?

“I don’t need one,” Rennie hissed. He obviously liked having a good time and didn’t want a soul mate cramping his style. I didn’t blame him. Relationships were freaking messy.

“We shouldn’t have to match if we don’t want to!” some vamp from the back of the room cried out as he surged to his feet. He was a dark shadow among many, the light not daring to reach them. I swallowed hard, searching the room for as many possible exits as I could find. When the time came, could I escape?

“Aye!” A female vamp agreed.

Their glowing red eyes flashed angrily to me, as if it were my fault they were here, my fault they had to have soul mates.

“Calm down,” Bay demanded.

“We will not!” Before I had time to sit back down, Rennie surged forward in a blur of movement. Suddenly I was shoved against the stone wall, a steel hand at my neck. “Why should we believe her anyway?”

In a blink Bay was there, hissing at Rennie. “Release her, you bastard. Or you will—”

The lights went out. The entire room grew black, but for those glowing red eyes in front of me. I couldn’t breathe…the air around me gone. I reached up, desperately clawing at Rennie’s arm, but he didn’t relent. I was going to die.

A great burst of fire suddenly lit the room, hovering in the air. Shocked, Rennie released his hold and I fell to the ground, gasping for breath. The fireball flew through the air, hitting a crowd of vampires. Their bodies twisted and spun, their screams echoing across the stone room as they burst into flames. Sucking in great gulps of air, I grasped the edge of the table and managed to get to my feet. Relief was sweet. Maybe, just maybe, I wasn’t going to die after all. Finally, the Consulate had arrived.

“About freaking time,” I rasped through my sore throat.

Hearing me, Rennie spun around. Crap. I lifted a chair and swung it toward the vampire as he raced straight at me. It hit him against the chest and the hard spindles splintered, pattering to the floor. With a grunt he stumbled back, but it didn’t stop him. When his lips lifted into a hiss, I realized that I’d merely pissed him off.

I stumbled back directly into a hard body. Firm fingers gripped my wrist, the stench surrounding my captor made me gag. “Let go!” I growled, struggling in his grip. “You heard Bay.”

“I’d much rather taste ye than be matched.” I knew that voice well. Terrified, I froze. Tipper had found me. Just when I thought I was a goner, Bay surged forward, tearing Tipper away and tackling him to the ground.

Thrown off-balance, I tripped on my long skirts. My ankle twisted painfully as I fell off the platform, hitting the stone floor hard. With a groan, I ignored the pain shooting up my calf and managed to drag myself under the nearest table to catch my breath. Only a moment…I only needed a moment to recuperate. As the lights surged back on, momentarily blinding everyone in the room with their brightness, my hope flared. Frantic to reach the Consulate, I pulled myself out from under the table and into the middle of the room.

But no…there was no Consulate, no team of men coming to my rescue. My hope and my heart sank. There was only one man who stood in the center of the room, fighting a horde of vampires.

Owen.

Just Owen.

Chapter 20

Owen

Forty-nine to one.

Sure, I could handle those odds. And then I’d fly away in my UFO and live happily bloody after. I lowered myself to the terrace that overlooked the large stone room below, and glanced between two columns. Four wooden tables full of vampires, four guards at the top of the room, near a platform holding only Emma and Bay. I didn’t allow myself to focus on her. No, if I saw an injury, hell, even if I noticed fear on her face, I wouldn’t be able to control myself. I needed to focus on my goal, getting her out of here, and I couldn’t let my emotions get in the way.

I’d visited the vampire lair in the past with Jotham when he’d been attempting to form a treaty with the bloodsuckers, but I didn’t know the building well enough to feel comfortable.

It had been easy gaining access through the fields of poppies that surrounded the castle. Vampires were nocturnal and the sun had just risen. It also helped that they had egos as big as Russia and didn’t think they needed guards outside. Still, as I’d snuck into the building, I’d been surprised to see they were awake. But then they had a new, exciting toy in Emma and they were obviously trying to figure out how to use her to their best benefit.

Unable to help myself, I glanced at her. My heart clenched, emotions I didn’t want to dwell upon surging to the surface. She looked brave, I’d give her that much, and I’d never been more proud of her. But I could sense the nervousness, see it in the flicker of her gaze as she glanced around the room. She was waiting for the vamp she’d just matched to return and proclaim her as a fraud. She’d lied to him to save her own hide, the smart chit. But she knew as well as I did that he’d be back soon.

“We shouldn’t have to match if we don’t want to!” some vamp cried out as he jumped to his feet.

“Aye!” another vamp agreed.

I focused on their leader, Bay. As vampires went, he was one of the more rational and controlled beings, but that wasn’t saying much where vampires were concerned. He was losing his grip on the room. Vampires were an unruly bunch to begin with; they didn’t like to be told what to do. I’d never envied Bay and his leadership role, and I’m sure at that moment he didn’t either.

Bloody hell. Not good. Not good at all. Perfect time to intervene. The only time. A vampire advanced toward Emma, slamming her against the wall. I had to resist the urge to travel there immediately. Shite. With my hands trembling, I jerked on the breaker box, throwing the room into darkness. A gasp of surprise whispered through the room. Slowly, I lowered myself to the ledge above the door.

Now or never. Conjuring a fireball, I tossed it toward a group who had gathered close to the front of the room. They burst into flames, their screams echoing against the stone walls. I felt absolutely no guilt. In fact if anything, I only wanted to kill more of the bastards. I disappeared, reappearing on the floor below.

Through the darkness I could see that the vamp had released his hold on Emma. I could sense her energy, feel the life in her, and my relief was immediate. She would survive. But I didn’t have time to go to her. A vampire noticed me, his hiss of outrage the warning I needed. As he raced forward, I lifted the crossbow, aimed, and hit him in the gut. The lights burst back to life just as he stumbled, falling. The bright lights helped my cause, momentarily blinding the vamps. I was able to shoot three more through the heart before they had regained their senses. Vaguely, I was aware of Emma stumbling her way down the aisle toward me. I might not get out alive, but if I could at least hold them back while she escaped…

A few cowardly vampires raced from the building, giving up easily, most likely thinking I had backup. Unfortunately I still had a good twenty-five or more to fight. I pulled the sword from the sheath on my back and swung it wide. The sharp blade sliced through the neck of the first vampire to reach me, but two others hit me before I could lift the weapon again. We slammed to the floor hard and the sword fell from my hand, clanging across the stone, the crossbow useless at my side.

“Owen!” Emma called out.

I lifted my knee, shoving one vampire off. “Emma, go!”

The other vampire took his friend’s place and leapt atop me, his cold hands at my neck. I swung my arm upward, smashing the end of the crossbow into his temple. The vamp didn’t even flinch. His hands tightened around my throat, preventing air from filling my lungs. Black spots floated before my eyes.

Concentrate. I needed to concentrate and use my powers. I disappeared, reappearing a few feet away gasping for air. Emma had scooped up my sword and swung it toward the vampire who’d been strangling me. The blade hit the beast hard enough to pierce his arm. He cried out, stumbling to the side.

But the moment we injured one, two others took his place. A vampire raced toward Emma, dagger raised.

I disappeared, reappearing in front of her. “Damn it, Emma. Leave! Escape! I’ll hold them off.”

Her hair hung in clumps around her pale face, those eyes wide with fear and adrenaline, her breathing as harsh as mine, but it was the red marks around her neck that sent my anger boiling over the edge. Didn’t she understand how close she was to death? It wasn’t something noble, or beautiful. Death was ugly, painful, and I wouldn’t see her go through that. At least not here, not now.

“Go!”

She scowled, sword in hand. “I won’t leave you!”

The vampire reached me. Momentarily distracted, I looked away, swinging the crossbow and hitting him across the face. Ten vamps were fighting amongst themselves at the front of the room. Five were headed our way.

“Emma…” I spun around, intending to tell her to leave, but I was too late. I saw him coming at her before she had time to react. Emma raised the sword, hitting the vampire at the same time his dagger sliced across her arm. Emma cried out, stumbling. I didn’t think, merely lifted the crossbow and shot the vampire. His dagger fell, the vamp stumbling to the ground, groaning.

It wasn’t until she teetered toward the ground, her legs giving out, that I realized the direness of her situation. In a flash I was at her side, sliding my arm around her waist and pulling her close. “Are you okay?”

She nodded, but the pain in her eyes told me otherwise. She was far from well. She had only moments before she passed out. “Go. I’ll mentally call for Jotham once you leave, he’ll meet you in the fields. The vamps won’t follow, they can’t stand sunlight.”

“I won’t leave you!”

I wanted to shake some sense into her, but I didn’t have time. “Then we will both die and this will be for nothing!”

“Oh my God, you’re not here to get us out.” Stunned, in pain, she dropped the sword to her side. “You’re here to die.”

I released my hold and shoved her toward the door. “Just go, now.”

“Owen.” She shook her head, her lower lip quivering. “Don’t you get it? I can’t leave you.”

“Bloody hell.” I spun around just in time to hit a vampire across the face with my crossbow. But it was too late. We were surrounded. Slowly, I stepped closer to Emma, my back to her. At least twenty, if I had counted correctly…and they were all ready to feed. They’d smelled Emma’s blood and their hunger would not be denied.

Emma’s uninjured hand slid into mine, her fingers cold, trembling. It was over. I had failed…again.

“Go,” she whispered. “Just go. You can teleport out of here. There’s no reason for both of us to die.”

I looked down at her, taking in her pale, sweaty face. “I won’t leave you,” I said, repeating her words. “I promised I’d never leave you, and I won’t.”

Tears shimmered in her blue eyes, making them sparkle, probably the last thing I would see. “Owen, don’t. Please.”

I gave her a soft smile and for that brief moment it was only the two of us, and nothing else mattered. “We’re in this together, Emma.”

“Enough!” Bay roared, shoving aside two vampires to get to us.

The leader paused, his breathing heavy, the suit he wore in tatters. He might not be able to stop the twenty or so vamps out to kill us, but maybe he and his army could. The guards shoved their way to the forefront, pushing at the other vampires until they backed up a few steps.

But their attention wasn’t focused on Bay. No, they were focused on Emma. The blood was slowly draining, dripping down her arm, her hand, and pooling onto the floor. Drip. Drip. Drip. They could smell it, and it fed the beasts. They wouldn’t be denied for long.

“We were friendly at one time,” Bay said, his gaze on me.

“We were,” I managed to respond. “Until you tried to steal my Matchmaker.”

His mouth quirked. “Fair enough. Word is that you’ve been banned from the Consulate.”

I felt Emma’s shock next to me but I didn’t respond. She wouldn’t last much longer, could barely keep standing. I tightened my hand on hers. If Bay was going to help us, I wished he’d get on with it.

“The Consulate and I have disagreed,” I explained.

He laughed. “I’ve misjudged you.”

But just as quickly as it had come, his laughter faded. He was silent for a long moment, the only sound the slight hiss coming from the surrounding vampires who were just waiting for word to attack.

Finally, he stepped closer, lowering his voice. “Go, Protector. Take your Matchmaker. I have a feeling she’s useless to us anyway.”

There was a hiss of disapproval from the other vampires who had heard; I could feel their anger and disbelief mounting. I didn’t envy Bay. We had to get out of there immediately, before they overpowered their leader and we were screwed.

Emma reached out, briefly touching Bay’s arm. “Thank you.”

Bay looked just as surprised as I felt. Really, thanking the bastard was a bit much, considering she was here because of him.

She started to pull back, only to pause. When I saw the odd look flash in her eyes, I almost groaned. I knew exactly what was happening. Slowly, painfully, she leaned forward and whispered near Bay’s ear, “University of Lyon. She teaches medieval history.”

Bay blinked at her, stunned. But I hid my surprise well. We didn’t have time for questions, and I didn’t wait around to hear his words of thanks. While the other vampires were hissing their displeasure and the guards were holding them back, I scooped Emma up into my arms and raced from the room. It was as I reached the hall that I heard the uproar behind us. Bay would only be able to hold them back for so long.

“Thank you, Owen,” Emma whispered, her breath warm across my neck.

I ran down the dark hall, toward those massive double doors and freedom. “There’s no need to thank me.”

“I know.” She smiled up at me as I kicked open the doors. The brilliant sun that burst inside was almost blinding, but I welcomed the light, for it would protect us. “You were just doing your job.”

Yeah, just my job. But we both knew that wasn’t true. This wasn’t my job. No, this was…more.

“It’s okay.” I didn’t take the drive but climbed a hill of poppies, praying I wasn’t too late. “We’re almost there.”

But I knew it wasn’t okay. Her blood had already soaked my shirt, warm and wet, draining from her body and branding mine. The vampire had cut an artery. “I can’t believe you managed to get injured again.”

“Next time,” she whispered, her voice so weak I could barely hear her. “I’ll be more careful.”

I managed to reach the top of the hill and stopped, laying her upon the flowers. “Emma?”

But she didn’t answer. My chest grew heavy, the denial frozen on my lips. Slowly, her lashes lowered, her eyes closed, and she lay still upon a bed of blooms as red as her blood. As she lay there, her pale skin glowing from the rising sun, I realized I could still save her. Maybe. Just maybe.

I rested my trembling hands atop her chest. Her heart beat painfully slow, so very slow. “One more time, Emma,” I whispered. “Just once more.”

I closed my eyes, took in a deep breath, and pulled the injury from her body.

********

Emma

One moment I was drowning, sinking into a sea of dark, desperate pain. The next moment Owen was there. Owen…his energy, I recognized him, how could I not? His energy pulled me out of that pool of despair, lifting me higher…higher. The pain receded and warmth surged forward, sweeping through my body. A brilliant, wonderful warmth. The sort of sensation I’d felt before. A sensation I knew well by now.

Owen.

Startled, I jerked my eyes open, only to groan and close them again as brilliant sunlight pierced my corneas, blinding me momentarily. Frantic to understand, I shoved my hands into the bristly field grasses and sat up, surrounded by swaying red poppies. Somehow I’d made it outside that vampire lair and into the fields beyond. Slowly, I looked down at my body. Brilliant scarlet soaked my torso, making my clothing stick to my skin.

Bemused, I turned, searching for the man who had saved me yet again. “Owen?”

He sat next to me, only about ten feet away, his body silhouetted against the sun. I smiled, relieved. “Owen.” But as I crawled toward him, my smile fell. Those green eyes were hazy, unfocused, and he was still, so still as he stared at me. “Owen?”

Slowly, he slumped, his body folding as he fell onto his back, eyes closed.

“No,” I whispered. “No!”

I surged toward him, barely noticing the stiff grasses biting into my sensitive palms. He was pale. Oh God, so very pale. The sting of tears burned my eyes, as my heart denied what my mind knew was true. “Owen?”

Lightly, I slapped his left cheek. He didn’t move, didn’t even flinch and I knew…

I looked at my arm. Blood stained my skin and dress. So much blood, but there was no wound. Frantic, I pulled up my tattered sleeve, searching my arm. Nothing. I let the sleeve fall back and gripped Owen’s shoulders. “You stupid, stupid man!”

Why? Why had he done it? I gripped his arm and turned it over. There, across those tattooed muscles was a sharp red line. My injury. Seb had almost died because of his Protector. No, I couldn’t let Owen die. I wouldn’t. I patted his face lightly, but he didn’t stir. I wasn’t even sure if he breathed. He was pale…so pale.

I gripped his shirt, terrified. “Owen, please. Don’t leave me. I don’t know what the hell I’m doing. I’ll probably get caught again, and you’ll most likely have to save me. Please, I can’t do this alone.”

Still he didn’t respond.

“Jotham!” I cried out, my voice echoing across the field. “Jotham, please!”

I didn’t wait, but leaned down and covered my mouth over Owen’s. I gave him two quick breaths, watching the rise and fall of his chest from the corner of my eye. Just as I was getting ready to press my hands to his sternum for compressions, I felt the slightest shiver of awareness. Hope sprang to life. Jotham’s tall, serene form shimmered into being.

Even before he fully appeared, I cried out, “Do something!”

His startled gaze found Owen’s lifeless form. But Jotham didn’t react, merely shook his head mournfully. “There isn’t much I can do. His powers are weakened. He’s dying.”

“No, please, Jotham,” I whispered, resting my hands on Owen’s chest. If I could feel his heartbeat, if I could touch him, then somehow, maybe I could keep him alive. “I’m begging you…do something.”

For one long moment he was silent. Not even the birds chirped. Finally he sighed, those narrow shoulders slumping. “There is a way, one way that might work.”

“Whatever it is, do it.”

He nodded, seeming determined now. When he knelt beside us and held out his hand, I didn’t hesitate and wrapped my fingers around his. “You’ll come with me.”

He rested his free hand on Owen’s shoulder. Suddenly everything went black. I didn’t have time to panic, didn’t even have time to question his motives. When the light burst to life, we were standing in a small bedroom. White wallpaper with tiny roses covered the walls, while a four-poster bed took up much of the area. But it was Owen, lying upon that bed so still and quiet, who caught my attention.

“Where are we?”

“Your aunt’s cottage, now yours.”

Nothing had changed, only our location. Owen was still pale, still near death. Anger and confusion combined. “Why are we here?”

“Here, you can hide in peace. Here, no one will find you, for your aunt had the good sense to use a fairy protection spell to hide the place. And here he can mend.”

Hope welled within, giving me reason to breathe. I rested on the edge of the bed, taking Owen’s cold hand in mine. “Can you heal him?”

“No.”

I jerked my gaze toward him, confused, desperate. “But—”

“But I can place him in a type of coma.”

I didn’t know what the hell he was talking about, but I’d take it. “How will it help?”

Jotham settled in the only chair. “He will remain suspended between life and death, and hopefully he will heal while he’s under.”

I nodded. Okay, a plan, we had a plan. I could survive with a plan. “And when will he wake up?”

“Tomorrow. A month from now.” He paused for a long, terrible moment. “Never. I don’t know.”

The hot sting of tears burned my eyes. I couldn’t stop them from coming, and one by one they trailed down my cheeks, dripping softly to the duvet. “Never?”

“It depends upon how much magic he has left. If his body can heal or not.”

We sat in silence, both of us watching Owen…waiting, as if we expected him to wake up at any moment. He looked so peaceful, so strong, so normal. But he was merely frozen between death and life, and it was my fault. I knew it. Jotham knew it. My fault. Why hadn’t I been more vigilant? Matchmakers were expendable; Protectors weren’t. Yet, here I was.

I wasn’t sure how much time passed, it could have been mere minutes or hours when Jotham finally stood. “I must go.” He rested his hand atop my head, his mournful gaze upon Owen. “They will be looking for me.”

I’d be alone with Owen. I didn’t know what to do with him, how to help. I tightened my hold on Owen’s hand, resisting the urge to beg the old man to stay. “Will they come for us?”

“I will not tell them what happened, and because of the spell they shouldn’t be able to find you.”

At least for now. I glanced back at Owen. I knew we couldn’t hide here forever. But I also knew that he would wake up; I had to believe that. Owen was strong, stronger than anyone I knew. He would survive, and so we would wait here until he came back to me.

“I have called for Sebastian.” Jotham moved toward the door. “He should be arriving soon. If you need anything, he will help you.”

Before I had time to thank him, Jotham was gone.

Alone, I was alone with Owen and I had no idea what to do. I trailed my fingers down the hard planes of his face. So beautiful, so strong. Careful, I climbed onto the bed, lying beside him. The sun moved slowly across the sky, the hours passing, and still I didn’t move.

How many times had he saved me? Too many to count. I rested my hand on his heart, the beat slow but steady, thank God.

It was time I saved him. And I would. Somehow, someway, I would figure out how to bring Owen back from the dead.

Epilogue

Two Months Later

Emma

I snapped the last rose of the season from its thorny branch and brought it close, breathing in deeply the sweet scent. It calmed me, like this garden always did. Blue skies, crisp morning air, perfect French cottage, all within a bubble of safety. Here, I didn’t have to worry. Here, the world stood still.

“Overheard the baker in town saying fall would be here early this year,” Lizzie said, seated at the small iron table near the fading climbing roses. Her books were open and spread before her, although I had a feeling she wasn’t really studying. She’d started homeschooling since moving to France. Only another year and she’d be done. And then maybe we could all go somewhere new. Leave our bubble.

“How’s your French coming?”

“Très bon!”

I couldn’t help but smile. Lizzie always made me feel better, and I was so thankful she was here. I glanced around the garden. My aunt had obviously liked flowers, and being here made me understand her in some way. At the same time I felt sort of sorry for her…being trapped.

“Mom called last night,” Lizzie said. “Was asking after you. She’s got a new boyfriend.”

I tuned her out, having no interest in Mom’s newest man. In truth, the safety was a facade. After all, we couldn’t stay here forever. I couldn’t help but feel like something was going to happen the moment we stepped outside the boundaries of the spell. As terrifying as the thought of leaving had become, there was still a part of me that hungered to escape.

Lizzie started humming some pop song she’d heard in the nearest village. We didn’t have a television or even a radio, as they interfered with the spell around the place. But Lizzie left at times, heading into town with Seb as escort, even to Paris twice. Although I didn’t dare leave, I couldn’t expect her to stay in this prison with me.

“You’re okay here…right, Liz?”

“Yeah! Are you kidding?” She grinned. “It’s awesome.”

I sighed, knowing that Lizzie wouldn’t complain, even under torture. She took the idea of staying positive to a whole new level. “Okay.” If she was happy, I’d take her word for it. I started toward the door, twirling the rose between my fingers.

“Em?”

I paused on the threshold and glanced back. “Yeah?”

“I like being at the cottage…seriously. But…” She took her lower lip between her teeth, a sure indication she was worried about something. “How long do you plan on staying here?”

I knew what she meant. How long before I gave up hope. “As long as it takes.”

She nodded slowly and gave me a tight smile. She thought I was insane. But that was okay. Heck, maybe I was. I stepped into the cottage, the scent of freshly baked apple pie surrounding me like a warm sweater. Since moving in, Lizzie had decided to become a chef. Fine with me, if it meant I didn’t have to cook.

I’d grown comfortable here, comfortable with the French country shabby chic decor, comfortable with the scent of flowers that wafted into the cottage through the open windows, the chirp of birds that woke me every morning. Yes, I’d grown comfortable, but I knew that becoming content was dangerous. It wouldn’t last.

I moved through the living room and into the bedroom.

“Morning, Owen.” I placed the rose in a vase on the bedside table. “It’s nice outside.” A soft breeze swept in through the open windows and fluttered the white curtains. “You smell that? Almost autumn.”

I moved around the bed and pulled the curtains wider, allowing the sun to enter the room. For a brief moment while looking out onto the rolling green hills that surrounded the cottage, I could pretend. But then I turned to face Owen, and all pretense was gone. He looked so perfect. Too perfect, and that was the problem. He hadn’t lost weight; he hadn’t lost muscle. No, he just lay there like he was sleeping…frozen in time. I swallowed the thick lump of emotion that clogged my throat. It was still hard to look at him…even months later.

I felt a shimmer of awareness right before Seb appeared. He’d been here so often that I knew his energy now. I’d actually grown to rely on his bringing information from the outside world, and keeping us informed on the Consulate. It was a relief knowing we had someone to rely on. And I thanked God that my aunt had allowed a few trusted people through the fairy spell.

“Bonjour, ma chérie.” He leaned over and kissed my cheek. “Anything?”

Seb appeared every day, and every day it was the same question. I shook my head. “Nothing.”

And every day he had the same response. “Soon. I can feel it.”

I smiled tightly and nodded. But every day it was becoming more difficult to agree. I reached out, brushing a lock of hair from Owen’s forehead. The soft hum of Lizzie singing swept in through the open windows. Seb’s gaze went to the garden; he was drawn to her sweet voice.

I smiled. Seb was like every other guy and couldn’t resist my sister. “You know she turns seventeen in a month.”

He frowned. “Yes, I’m aware.”

I reached for the blanket at the end of Owen’s bed and pulled the cover over his legs. The air had a bite to it. I wasn’t sure if he could get sick, but I wasn’t taking any chances. “It’s just that you said she was too young for you.”

“And she still is.”

I slid him a glance. “Seb, you’re nineteen. There’s only two years’ difference.”

“I’ll be twenty soon. She’s too young. We have nothing in common.”

Yet, he kept looking at her. I shook my head, my amusement giving way to annoyance. What I wouldn’t give to have Owen truly here. Yet, these two were obviously attracted and denying it like crazy. Stupid people and their stupid love problems. Why did they have to make everything so complicated?

My gaze went back to Owen. Why had I made everything so complicated? Why hadn’t I accepted my feelings for him at the beginning? So many silly games. I sank into the overstuffed chair near the fireplace and drew my knees to my chest, my gaze on him. “Have they given up on finding me?”

“No.” Seb sighed as he strolled to the windows. “They know you’re here somewhere, and one of the vampires leaked word that you’re not with them. When you turned eighteen last week, your powers went public, so to speak.”

“So now any supernatural being can find me and they know I’m on my own.”

“You’re not alone. I’m here.”

But we both knew that Seb could only do so much. He might be able to protect me from demons, but he couldn’t protect me from the Consulate. They would find me soon and Owen was in no shape to help. Could I protect him? “And Owen…do they know about him?”

“No. They think he bailed out. They obviously didn’t know him well.” We were silent for a few moments. I could feel Seb watching me and wondered what he was thinking. I didn’t have to wonder long. “I won’t leave you. I’m here to fight till the end.”

The end. That sounded rather ominous. I gave him a quick nod, the most I could handle. As much as I appreciated his help, I didn’t want Seb by my side. I wanted Owen.

Seb pushed away from the wall and started toward the door. “I’m going to check the perimeter.”

In other words, he was going to check on Lizzie. I smiled as he disappeared, leaving me alone with Owen. I had wondered more than once if Lizzie and Seb were soul mates, but I hadn’t had any visions, which made me think that maybe they didn’t belong together, or they just weren’t ready. Either way, I didn’t push it. We had enough to worry about at the moment.

Untucking my legs, I stood and moved toward the bed. “Open your eyes, Owen.” I climbed onto the mattress and curled up next to him. It was a ritual I repeated at least ten times a day.

“Please.” I rested my hand on his chest. His heartbeat, although slow, was reassuring. “I’m sorry…sorry for how stupid I acted. Sorry that I constantly denied my feelings. I swear, if you just open your eyes, I’ll admit everything.”

He didn’t even flinch.

Exhausted, I lay my head on his shoulder and lowered my lashes. “Come on, Owen. Come on.”

Vaguely I was aware of Lizzie and Seb in the garden talking, their voices full of pain and emotion that drifted through the open windows. They were still denying their attraction, neither learning from my mistake.

“Stupid,” I muttered, half-asleep.

“What’s stupid?”

My eyes opened and for a long moment, I merely lay there, my heart slamming wildly in my chest. I had imagined the question, his raspy voice. It couldn’t be Owen. I shoved my hands into the bed and jerked upright. Owen’s green eyes met mine. Hazy, yes, but open. Awake.

“Owen?” My voice caught, tears burning. “My God, are you really awake?”

He blinked, confused. “Emma?”

He remembered me. Thank you, God, he remembers! I cupped the sides of his face and smashed my lips to his. It was a quick kiss, and I had to force myself not to kiss him again and again. “Yeah.” I laughed like a manic clown. “It’s me.”

He was warm under my touch, when he’d been so cold before. Frantic to understand, I slid my hands over his chest. It wasn’t my imagination, his heart was beating stronger, faster. The joy I felt overwhelmed me, sending my pulse beating so hard that I felt almost dizzy.

“Where are we?” he asked.

Although I didn’t want to, I pulled back enough to allow him room to breathe. I was shaking, I couldn’t stop shaking. I tucked my hands into my jeans pockets, afraid he’d notice my unease and I’d freak him out. “My aunt’s cottage.”

He gritted his teeth and tried to move. His body might look normal, but the two-month coma had made him weak.

Worried, I slid my arm around his waist, helping him sit up. “You’re all right?”

“I…I think so.”

My muscles were tense, my brain jumbled. I wanted to tell him so much, tell him everything, but I knew he needed time to adjust. I jumped from the bed and grabbed a pitcher of water, pouring him a glass.

“Seb! Seb, hurry!” With water glass in hand, I managed to settle back on the bed and help him sip the cool liquid.

He drank slowly, showing no signs of dehydration. “Seb’s here? What’s happened?”

“You don’t remember?”

He rubbed his face, as if trying to rub away two months’ worth of slumber. “Barely. Vampires. I was fighting vampires.”

I set the glass down and pulled his arms away, needing to see his face. My chest felt tight and those freaking tears were stinging my eyes once more. “Damn you, Owen, you almost died saving me.”

His gaze met mine and I felt it all the way to my toes, a heated warmth that swept through me, making my heart stammer. I’d known he would wake, I had, but there were times in the dark of night when I worried.

“Did I save you?” he asked softly. He said it in a way that told me he knew…he remembered.

“Why?” I whispered.

He clenched his jaw, those eyes brilliant, alive and well. He was there, truly there. The Owen I knew, the Owen I cared for. I’d never believed in miracles before, but I did now. “You know why.”

Before I could demand he answer, Seb suddenly appeared. “Merde!” He stumbled toward the bed, his shock almost amusing. “Are you really awake? Truly?”

Owen grinned, but he gave his friend only a quick glance, remaining focused on me. “Yes, and I’m starving.”

“I’ll get you something to eat.” I slid from the bed and started for the door. I needed to do something, anything. But the moment I stepped foot into the hallway, I found my legs went out. The emotions and adrenaline made me weak and I slumped against the wall, stifling my cries. He was awake. He was well. Owen was alive.

“Thank you,” I whispered to no one, to everyone. “Thank you.”

“Petunia…” Owen’s voice drifted from the room.

“I know,” Seb said. “She was guilty. But she’s disappeared. There should be no more trouble from her.”

“That would be great, if she was the only one involved.”

I sucked in a sharp breath of surprise.

“What do you mean?”

“Think about it, Seb. Pet isn’t smart enough to plan all of this. And as bloody mad as she is, she wouldn’t have killed Clarice. She actually liked the old woman.”

“Okay, we’ll figure things out. Once you’re rested, we’ll head back to the Consulate.”

“That might be a problem.”

“What do you mean?” Seb asked warily.

Slowly, I straightened away from the wall, swiping at my damp cheeks. Something was wrong, so very wrong, I could tell by the tone of Owen’s voice. I should have known.

“My powers,” Owen said. “They’re gone.”

********

Owen

My body felt heavy, strange, as if my mind wasn’t quite connected yet. I shifted, stepping closer to the window and savoring the cool breeze that drifted inside. As confused as I’d been, I’d still known the moment I woke that my powers were gone. Completely, or just buried? I wasn’t sure.

Emma rushed into the room carrying a tray, Lizzie was fast behind her. I forced myself to smile, feigning an ease I sure as hell didn’t feel. I hadn’t even sensed her approach, like I would have before.

Emma smiled hesitantly back. Although it seemed as if no time had passed, she appeared different. But the time had affected her. Thinner, tired, worried. I’d done that to her, I realized. But I couldn’t feel guilty…no, because I had saved her life. And I’d do it all again.

Two months, Seb had said. I’d been out for two months. How could two months go by without my even knowing? My body felt stiff, but other than that it felt as if I’d merely gone to sleep. I moved slowly back to the windows. My mind might not want me to believe two months had gone by, but my body knew.

Go, Protector. Take your Matchmaker. I have a feeling she’s useless to us anyway.

I remembered every detail of that night as if it had just happened. But it hadn’t. Two months. Two bloody months had gone by without my knowing, lost in a black void. Two months without protecting Emma, leaving her here alone.

“You hungry?” she asked.

“I’m starving.”

Emma didn’t look me in the eyes, but focused on setting the tray upon the side table, Lizzie helping her. The smell of roasted duck and potatoes wafted through the room, making my stomach tighten with need. But I barely cared about my hunger, no, I only cared about Emma. She was upset about something; that was obvious.

I managed to settle in the chair next to the fireplace without shaking too badly. “Wow, fancy.”

She released a soft laugh. “Lizzie has decided to become a chef…this week.”

“And it’s delicious!” Lizzie said, showing absolutely no humility.

“Yeah, if you like to feast on poor little ducks,” Emma muttered.

Yes, there was definitely something different about her. She seemed…softer, gentler as she lifted the silver dome on the tray and set it aside. Her gaze rose, meeting mine, and in that moment my heart jumped. Two months hadn’t dimmed my attraction. I wanted to reach out and brush that loose lock behind her ear. To cup the back of her head and pull her down for a completely thorough kiss.

“I’m so glad you’re better,” Lizzie said.

I forced my gaze from Emma to her sister. “Thanks, Liz.”

Unlike her sister, Lizzie had no issues showing her affection and raced forward, throwing her arms around me. I patted her awkwardly upon the back. I’d had so little affection in my life that I wasn’t quite sure what to do with it.

“Liz, be careful with him.” Emma watched us nervously. Yes, she cared, but I didn’t want her to think of me as some weak-kneed lad.

Lizzie pulled back, swiping at her eyes. “He’s fine, right?”

I gave her a reassuring nod.

Appeased, Emma’s younger sister was smiling again. “I should go, I have dessert in the oven. You’re going to love it!”

With a swirl of skirts she rushed away, leaving Emma and me alone. I might not remember the last two months, but I hungered for her as if I hadn’t seen her in years. She shifted, standing only a few feet away, uneasy. When she glanced at the door, I realized with a sinking heart that she actually wanted to leave. My feelings for her had only grown, but maybe her feelings had faded.

“Well, I should—”

“Emma,” I whispered, latching on to her hand before she could get away.

She glanced first at my fingers wrapped around her wrist, and then slowly lifted her gaze to me. “Yeah?”

“Why are you avoiding me?”

A telltale flush spread up her neck and into her cheeks. “I’m not.”

I quirked a brow.

She tore her gaze from mine, focusing on the windows. “Because I know you, Owen. I know you, and I know you’re going to try to do something stupid and noble now that you don’t have any powers.”

My heart dropped. “You heard.”

She nodded. “Tell me,” she said, slowly returning her gaze to me. “What are your plans?”

I didn’t respond. I felt off-balance, as if she’d just crushed my manliness. The worry in her gaze quickly turned to anger. The woman I knew was back. As annoyed as I was with her, I was glad to see the old Emma.

“What?” She rested her hands on her hips. “You’re going to leave me? Run off so you won’t be a hindrance?”

I rubbed the back of my neck, feeling myself blush with guilt. It had crossed my mind. Hell, I’d even discussed it with Seb. She’d obviously been eavesdropping. And now she knew…she knew everything that I had hoped to hide.

“Bull, Owen.” She surged toward me. “You aren’t leaving.”

Her reaction gave me hope. “Why?”

“You know why!”

I wasn’t going to let her leave without actually saying the words. We’d gone too long tiptoeing around each other. “Why?”

She took in a deep, trembling breath. “I love you, okay?”

I grinned. I couldn’t help myself. And suddenly it didn’t matter that I was crap, that I was nothing, a bloody shell of the man I’d been. “Come here.”

She pulled away and crossed her arms over her chest. “No.”

“Emma.” I sighed, exasperated.

I thought she might deny me. Instead, she gave me a reluctant grin and stepped closer. Not wanting to miss an opportunity, I reached out and latched on to her wrist, jerking her forward. She fell onto my lap, close to me, exactly where she belonged.

“I was so worried about you,” she admitted.

“Kiss me.”

She frowned, trailing her fingers down my T-shirt. “Why do I have to kiss you? Why can’t you kiss me?”

“I’m too weak.”

“Ha! Right. Like I’m—”

“Quiet.” I reached out, cupped the back of her head, and drew her forward. And for the first time we kissed. Truly kissed. There was no holding back. No fear of doing something wrong, of being caught. Two months might have passed, but her lips were still soft, her body still warm.

“Emma.” I pulled back just enough to speak. “I love you too.”

She looked into my eyes, the emotion evident and beautiful, and full of hope. “You do, don’t you?” She smiled almost shyly, a smile I’d never seen on her before. “I kind of suspected when you walked into a room full of vampires like an idiot.”

I grinned. “Such sweet, kind words.”

She leaned forward and kissed me, a quick kiss that only left me wanting more. “Thank you.” She slid her hands around my neck and rested against my chest.

For the first time in months—hell, years—everything felt right. Completely right. I wrapped my arms around her waist, holding her close. “I would do it all over again.”

She sighed as if exasperated. “I know.”

The food lay forgotten upon the side table, but neither of us cared about eating. “There is one good thing, you know, about not having my powers.”

She tilted her head back. “Yeah?”

“We can be in a relationship now that I don’t work for the Consulate.”

She pulled away and smiled. “Actually date out in the open?”

“Something like that.” I didn’t mention the fact that she still had her matchmaking abilities, and because of that the Consulate wasn’t about to let her go. They would be coming for her, and I had no doubt they would find her eventually. Whether I had powers or not, I would be ready for them.

She cupped the side of my face, looking serious again. “You think you’d like to go outside and eat in the garden? Seb is dying to see you. He’s missed you, you know.”

“Yes. I’d like that.”

She stood, helping me to my feet. “We’ve all missed you.”

I rested my hand on her lower back, needing to touch her, while she took the tray of food in hand. Together we moved through the cottage. I hadn’t been there since Clarice had died, but it looked almost exactly the same. The woman would be proud of her niece and what Emma had managed to do on her own.

Outside, Seb and Lizzie were sitting around an ornate iron table, arguing about something, and looking oddly like lovers quarreling. Seeing me they stopped, their argument forgotten.

“You look well,” Lizzie said, rushing forward and taking the tray from Emma’s hands.

She and Seb went about getting my food ready while Emma helped me sit in the peaceful garden.

“Are you well?” Seb asked, looking much too serious.

I smiled; I couldn’t help myself. Emma and I had escaped the Consulate, escaped the Vampires, escaped death. “Yes. Very.”

Emma sat in the chair next to mine, her palm resting on my knee. I slid my hand over hers, entwining our fingers and sharing a heated glance while Lizzie and Seb’s cheerful chatter swam around us. I didn’t have my job anymore. I didn’t have my powers. But I had something better…I had a family, friends, a life.

I had Emma.

The End

Interested in more? Check out the excerpt of Lori’s bestselling young adult series,

The Mind Readers!

The Mind Readers

Chapter 1

The man sitting across from me at the café was thinking about murdering his wife.

He imagined stabbing her and pretending like it was a robbery. Or perhaps, he thought, he’d take her hiking, push her off a cliff and say it was an accident; that she’d slipped. I wanted to tell him it wouldn’t work, that in those CSI shows on T.V. they always suspected the husband first.

Instead, I huddled deep within my down jacket, the diner booth pressing uncomfortably hard against my back. I didn’t dare move for fear of drawing attention to myself. I didn’t want to know his thoughts. I wished he’d keep them to himself. But I suppose he couldn’t help it. The thoughts seeped from his mind like the fog currently drifting in from the harbor.

Slowly, I slid him a glance out of the corner of my eye. With his thinning brown hair combed neatly into place, and his blue button-up shirt free of wrinkles, he looked like a normal suburban dad. But if there was one thing I’d learned early on in life it was that normalcy, as we thought of it, didn’t exist. It was amazing and frightening what humans were capable of.

His pale blue eyes met mine. My heart slammed frantically against my ribcage. I dropped my gaze, my long, dark hair falling around my face like a curtain. He’d noticed me looking at him. He was wondering if I was a virgin. He hoped I was. Pervert. Bile crawled up my throat. I wrapped my hands around my cup of Chai tea, hoping the heat would warm my insides. It didn’t.

But the guy sitting at the table next to me who’d been imagining killing his wife and was now imagining seducing me wasn’t the problem. No, it was the guy sitting across from me, the man with his bright orange hunting cap pulled low over his eyes, the guy waiting for the right moment to rob the café… he was the one who worried me.

For a second I thought about alerting the owner. Common sense and years of warning got the better of me and I remained stubbornly silent. With a trembling hand, I latched onto the strap of my bag, gripped my cup and slid from the booth.

My conscience screamed at me to return, to help, say something. But those years of warning overtook any soft feelings. Shifting my bag strap to my shoulder, I rushed from the café before guilt got the better of me. Outside the air was crisp, cool. So normal. It was early fall and the bees were swarming an overflowing trashcan. Dumping my cup, careful to avoid the stinging insects, I pulled my hood atop my head and stuffed my hands into the soft, fleece-lined pockets on my jacket, trying to get warm…always trying.

A black truck zoomed by, sending fall colored leaves of orange, red and yellow into the air. For one brief moment, as the leaves settled around me, I felt like I was in the safety of a snow globe. But safety was an illusion. We were never safe. Not the people in the café. Not the few pedestrians strolling down the sidewalks. And certainly not me.

A deep shout resounded from inside the café, a muffled demand. I shouldn’t have been surprised, still my heart made a mad leap for my throat. People screamed, the sound noticeable even through the thick glass windows. I wouldn’t turn back.

I stepped off the curb, glanced left, then right and darted across the street. I had five minutes to make it home in time and couldn’t be late…again or Grandma would worry. I focused on the long road that led to our small Cape Cod style cottage, focused on the crunch of brittle leaves under my sneakers, focused on breathing. I would not react to the scene around me. I couldn’t. As Grandma repeatedly warned, my very life depended on silence.

Boom!

A sudden blast rang through the air, vibrating the glass windows. A flock of black starlings burst from the maples lining the road. I flinched, sucking in a sharp breath of cold air and resisted the urge to drop to the cracked sidewalk. Surprise faded quickly and guilt churned deep within my gut. A sickening shame that was almost unbearable. So much regret. Angry at myself, I shoved the feeling aside. Emotions would only weaken me.

A woman with gray hair who was walking her poodle next to me froze, her gaze pinned to the café. “My God, I think they’re being robbed!”

I didn’t respond but continued down the sidewalk, forced my feet forward as she fumbled with her cell phone.

Taking in a deep breath, I slipped the ear buds of my iPod into my ears. Home. I had to make it home before I was late, before nerves got the better of me and I was sick all over the sidewalk. Or worse, before I turned and raced back to the scene.

But even as I attempted to ignore the guilt thrumming in time with the music, anxiety clawed its way into my lungs, making it hard to breathe. I knew, deep down, I could have stopped it. If only I wasn’t a coward. If only….

Sometimes it really sucked to be able to read minds.

The Mind Readers Series:

The Mind Readers, book 1 (Ebook version is free!)

The Mind Thieves, book 2: Available now!

The Mind Games, book 3: Available now!

The Mind Keepers, a Novella

About Lori Brighton

Lori has a degree in Anthropology and worked as a museum curator. Deciding the people in her imagination were slightly more exciting than the dead things in a museum basement, she set out to become an author. Lori writes Romance for adults, as well as Young Adult books for teens and adults.

To find out more about Lori visit her at: www.LoriBrighton.com