Make Me A Match (The Matchmaker) (12 page)

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

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.