The Matchmaker's Mark (22 page)

"I need your help."

His voice sounded as raw as she felt. Despite her best intentions, desire coiled low her belly. "Why? Have you lost the Matchmaker?"

He cleared his throat, nodded once.

"What?" She gaped like a fish tossed on the sand. "I was joking."

"I am not."

She watched as he pulled his shoulders straight, amazed it was possible for him to be more formal or precise, despite the casual fisherman's sweater and jeans. Understanding the honor he was offering made her wish for better clothing than her sweaty running gear.

"The Matchmaker has gone beyond my reach. I know where she's likely headed, but not how she will get there."

"Oh, I've been there, done that for the werewolf already and no Matchmaker magically appeared."

"You have magic – "

Lily checked the position of her sleeve on reflex.

"– that could be helpful."

She disagreed, despite her brief success transferring to and from the churchyard. "If you need a bouquet to apologize…" she trailed off when his eyes blazed with power. Temper crackled in the air between them.

"She is not my woman. Not even my matchmaker assignment. Not really." He sounded disappointed. "She is the Matchmaker and she is in trouble."

Lily didn't know enough about the matchmaker system beyond the scarce and elusive legends, but Amy had seemed nice enough. Even helping the ghost without any exchange of payment or information.

"We must go."

"I'm still considering."

Dare closed his eyes, much like her brothers often did when she exasperated them. When he opened them they were the deep green of the oak leaves. "The trees here are too young. There is a Tree of Life nearby, right?"

Half human, she could claim ignorance, claim her elf elders hadn't trusted her with the details.

Trained by the elite guard, he should know the systems of every Tree of Life, shouldn't need her to tell him. But she was captivated by that look, by his desperate intensity. "Yes," she answered.

"We must go. Quickly." He touched her elbow, guiding her back across the park.

"No. Not today."

His grip firmed as he urged her back toward King Street. Henry led the way, tail high. As they walked away from the canopy of oaks, she felt the tremble of her magic about to go haywire. She filled her mind with thoughts of a sink full of soaking florist foam, the most boring thing she could think of, to keep herself under control.

"You must change your plans," Dare said. "We cannot delay."

She tugged her elbow free, gave herself a measure of room to breathe as she kept pace with him.

"It's not about my plans. It's Sunday. The tree you seek is on an island, behind a church." She gestured to the sky when a church bell sang out over the city. "You can't risk it."

He was clearly thinking of ways to argue, to force her to take him to the tree. Odd again, because he shouldn't need directions or introductions. From Cade, she'd picked up enough about the hard training and excessive demands employed to hone the Elite Guard – those soldiers chosen to protect the elves from any threat, mortal and immortal, natural and unnatural.

"How long must we wait?"

She wanted to lie, knew it would be useless. "Nightfall. I'll draw you a map." He didn't need her tagging along and she wouldn't upset everyone by tainting his return to elf society with her less than pure blood presence.

"Nightfall," he grumbled.

~*~

Dare let her draw the ridiculous map and memorized her verbal directions as well. As they'd waited out the day, he'd allowed her to cling to the delusion that he would go to the Tree of Life alone.

He would not.

And he refused to delve too deeply into his precise reasoning.

As he'd assured Gilly in a fast exchange of text messages, he had an elf to assist him with his plan to complete the new Matchmaker's transition.

He'd dismissed Cade's guards so no one would notice if she chose to make a scene. And when she'd changed the cat's collar, he'd simply put a spell on it too, allowing the cat to come and go between realms. He'd fix it later.

Now, standing outside her door, he reviewed his counterpoints to the arguments she was likely to pose. It would be a fast debate and he'd be the winner, but he knew he had to go through the motions.

"What are you doing?"

He glanced up as her voice drifted down from fire escape. "I forgot something." It was true enough.

Her mutterings were distorted by the creaking metal as she moved inside through her window, but he was sure it wasn't flattery. Soon he picked up the light step of her feet on the stairs.

She had a jacket on, gloves sticking out of her pocket and a pair of hiking boots in her hand.

The arguments and reasons he'd carefully considered evaporated. "What is this?"

"We both know the only thing you forgot was me."

"But you…" He couldn't shake his thoughts into order. "You refused. Insisted I go alone."

"And you came back." She shrugged as she locked the door with one hand. "You fought hard enough about the time already wasted today, I'd feel guilty wasting more."

She sat on the little bench next to the planter filled with pansies and laced up her boots. "Just don't blame me when things go wrong. I'm not a favorite in the elf realm."

He kept his thoughts to himself, knowing first hand about falling out of favor. Cade might devote resources to protect her as family, but Dare knew he didn't openly discuss that decision in elite elf social circles.

"The car's this way," she said.

He fell into step beside her, wondering about their destination and the reception he could expect. Considering his choices recent and long ago – and those he'd soon be making – he couldn't possibly blame Lily if the tree itself refused them.

"I know I imposed on you today."

"And tonight."

"I a – "

"If you apologize, so help me, I'll make you walk to the island." She sounded as grumpy as he felt. All day he'd been in her presence, restraining his most basic instincts to touch her, to peel away the barriers between them – tangible and intangible. Undressing her, giving his body free rein to know hers was one thing. One thing that felt very right. But impeding her future and jeopardizing his duty to the Matchmaker were two responsibilities with dire consequences that kept him from claiming her as his own.

Now, practically itching with sexual frustration, he despised the yoke of responsibility and fought for the calm he would need in the hours to come.

"Yes, tonight as well." He blinked when she led him to a small, rounded car. "What's this?" It looked like a troll child's toy.

"My car. Surely you've seen a Volkswagen bug."

Of course it was. "My bow will hardly fit."

"You'd rather walk to the tree?" She sighed. "Fine. We'll take the van."

"Van?" She turned to the next vehicle in the row, a large white panel van emblazoned with her store logo. Images of what they might do – what they absolutely could not do – with all the room in the back danced merrily through his mind.

"No. The car," he choked out. "Please."

Her sharp grin proved she'd understood his reasoning. Damn. Where was his control? "Tell me about this Tree of Life," he began.

She glanced at him before she pulled out into the narrow street. "Why didn't you just steal a car? Or rent one to follow Amy?"

He turned to stare out the window. "It would've been easier to walk."

"Not buying it." She shook her head. "Try again."

"You know I can't lie to you."

"I know you can mold the truth when necessary."

He was stuck. He hadn't stolen a car and followed Amy because he needed to keep Lily safe. Telling himself Cade's guards were sufficient hadn't been enough. Besides he'd wanted a woman's point of view, particularly this woman's point of view, on Amy's actions.

"Where would you go if you needed to get out of Charleston? What route?" He couldn't feel Amy anymore and assumptions would be too risky. He could only hope she stayed away from large crowds of people.

And bodies of water. The mermaid population was rather upset with the Matchmaker lately.

"You can look at a map and figure that out." Lily huffed out an impatient breath. "You didn't steal the car because of your honor, even though it's the fastest way to track down your Matchmaker."

"She's not mine." Thank God.

"Uh-huh."

"Really. We never guard more than one. Usually one is a lifetime's worth," he added. It still hurt his pride that Camille sent him away and purposefully made herself vulnerable. She'd never been the sort to create chaos before.

He let himself study Lily as she drove. "Would you leave if I asked you to?"

"You asked me to come along."

"Speaking hypothetically. As a woman. If I told you you were in danger, would you leave?"

"What kind of danger?"

"Doesn't matter."

"Of course it matters. Your definition of danger might be a busy street. Something I know I can successfully navigate."

"This isn't a busy street sort of danger."

Lily looked his way, smiled slowly, then thankfully turned her attention back to the road. "You told the Matchmaker to leave and she didn't want to?"

"Yes. And then suddenly she was gone. What changes a woman's mind like that?"

"That's proprietary info. If I tell you I get kicked out of the girl's club."

He stared at her, stunned. He didn't get the joke until she laughed. The purely happy sound aroused him, made him want to tease other vocal reactions out of her. Slowly. With his hands, his mouth, his...

Time to change tactics. "What will you tell me about the Tree of Life?"

"I'm surprised you don't know the history."

He knew the old realm legends, not the current status. And he knew how to be patient.

"Fine. Locals call it the Angel Oak and protect it, worry about it, honor it as best they can. There's a church within shouting distance and the surrounding land's been given over to neighborhoods." She navigated another intersection before glancing his way. "What's your intention tonight?"

He did know of the Angel Oak's reputation and reaching it would've been quite easy if his magic hadn't been so stressed with shielding Amy. Of course the attraction and subsequent distraction of Lily put another stress on his inner resources.

"Information. Regeneration," he added. Transport too, if he could work it out.

"I'm surprised you're not hearing voices and feeling better already," she murmured.

"Hearing voices doesn't sound healthy."

He felt ridiculously proud when she chuckled.

She stopped the car and he glanced around, disappointed and confused. They were at the edge of a crumbling parking lot that served a deserted shopping center. The dark did nothing to soften the rough edges of abandoned progress.

"What happened here?" Small earthquake? Large hurricane? Either was possible.

"Neglect." She cleared her throat and he wondered at the pain in her voice. "It's the safest place to leave the car. No security cameras," she elaborated. "Let's go."

A block from her mall of neglect, he inhaled the ripe fragrances of the marsh. The grasses, the faint tang of the sea, the elder trees that sheltered and guarded the younger, dormant plant life.

It had been too long since he'd immersed himself in the rich layers and vibrant textures of the natural elements of his youth. Though this wasn't home precisely, it called to him, soothed and inspired, cleared his head and heated his elf blood.

He could scent the woman beside him, feel her senses opening, reacting, as they neared the Tree of Life. The Angel Oak she'd called it.

Living so close, he wondered how she could stay in her small apartment, smothered by the conventions of the human city.

Charleston seemed so far removed from this marvelous energy pulsing just under the soil. Feeling it, he knew he'd never need a map to find it again. Hell, he might never leave. The ancient resource was utterly intoxicating.

They kept to the shadows, the night sky a velvet blanket dotted with sparkling stars. He tipped his head back and closed his eyes, savoring a sweet breeze that danced across his skin and nearly lost his balance.

Her small hand on his shoulder steadied him. He felt her, despite her glove and his jacket. He craved more, wishing away every barrier. He wanted to feel that palm, those fingers grip his bare shoulder at the peak of her passion.

"Whoa, down boy," she whispered.

He felt the words against his lips, felt her pushing at his chest, felt her hips under his hands. "How did I...?" He'd embraced her, was intent on kissing her and couldn't even remember making the move. "Sorry." He pulled his hands to his sides, though the effort cost him.

"Glad you're back." She stepped away from him. "It's the tree. We're almost there. The tree can cause all kinds of reactions."