The Matchmaker's Mark (20 page)

"And yours," Dare replied. They clasped arms once more and then Cade went inside. Leaving Dare wondering just what the new Matchmaker would say when he turned the tables and asked her to stay out the week in Charleston.

~*~

Driving west at last, Amy was almost as relaxed as Guinness who was stretched out across the back seat of the rental car. With a new romance super power or not, she was going to be fine. Nothing calmed her quite like making a thoughtful decision and taking action.

She drove west, not just because the only thing east and south was ocean. She'd studied her aunt's letters, the one's she'd intended to use as the foundation of her new book on mythology and literature. In the context of her starburst eyes and Dare's continuing revelations, the implications sunk in.

She needed to get to the Matchmaker's book, needed to understand the nature of the Campbell history and decide how she might shed the unwanted responsibility.

Worried about the dire effect she might have on average humans in an airplane, she'd called a taxi for a ride to the airport. It would give Dare a lead to follow, but she didn't entertain the idea that she could successfully hide from Camille's bodyguard for long.

When the cabbie shared the story of falling in love with his wife, she knew she'd made the right choice to avoid a crowded airplane.

And she couldn't risk any further contact with Maeve, not after that sketch. What would she do if she managed to mark Maeve? Her best friend might be ticked off about Amy leaving without a word, but she'd forgive the slight. Eventually. That's what friends did.

What friends didn't do was curse each other to grim futures with something less than human.

Her grandmother's voice reminded her not to judge, but she couldn't help it. The man –werewolf – had stalked her, attacked her, and lost his temper when her new powers acted without her consent.

Maeve didn't deserve to be shackled to a male that volatile.

If what Dare said was true, once the Matchmaker marked a person, the match was imminent. Even more sobering when she considered the extended life spans of most mythical races.

Like mermaids.

"Unless Miss Moody of the Sea knows how to travel swamps and rivers, we're free of her," she told Guinness. But she couldn't quite suppress the quiver of nerves as she drove over yet another body of water.

Dare said the Matchmaker's life was solitary by necessity. Seeing her effect on Maeve and others, she had to agree, making her more grateful for her greyhound. An English prof spent many hours with only the voices on paper and having Guinness share those hours made it easier.

How was she going to survive, to support herself, if she couldn't teach? Not just the pay, but her passion for sharing the magic of literature with her students. Maybe the book had some account numbers for a Matchmaker's annuity. Her brittle bark of laughter rattled around the car. Guinness stuck his head over the seat and nuzzled her ear with his long nose.

"Thanks, baby. Don't worry, we'll figure out a way to keep you in dog food."

Admittedly, her fears were less about money and more about the hand of Fate and apparent lack of free will. She could no longer deny she'd changed, and the definition of normal had changed as well.

The mermaid's angry face popped into her mind. Irritating creature. Would the book tell her how long it would take for that memory to fade?

She drove on, thinking of the book, letting her imagination wander over the possibilities. What would a book filled with so much history and magic look like? What would it feel like? Would the writing be elegant, romantic prose, or would it be merely a dry ledger of business transactions?

As the mermaid's face interrupted her thoughts again, she hoped there would be illustrations to help her recognize the creatures who might be out to get her.

Paranoid much?

Yeah. More and more with every hour. But since all the bedtime stories had become so very real, since Camille had simply vanished, she felt justified.

So she would drive home, back into bleak, snow-covered terrain and limit her contact with everyone and anything… She would just cloister herself in her apartment with the book until she had a better plan.

My darling Amy,

I am so grateful you know how to appreciate yourself and your talents. Oh, forgive my preaching for a moment, I had the most horrible arbitration this week. A young lady of great skill and small confidence was selling herself short. A queen among peasants really (though I don't normally abide by the division of classes). I was able to bring about a settlement, but it took some strategy, maneuvering and more than one covert conversation in the ladies room to see it done properly.

Please teach your students to value what makes them unique!

With love!

Auntie, Camille

Lily couldn't sleep. She puttered, putting her home and shop to rights after so much testosterone had paraded through in recent days. Cade had pitched in and hauled away the breakage with a promise to replace it, but she couldn't settle. Maybe it was the extra spicy sausage on the pizza they'd shared.

She couldn't say she missed the werewolf, but the absence of his overbearing presence only emphasized how alone she was in the company of both humans and elves.

With her sleeves rolled up, she couldn't help but see her mark in all its bigger and bolder glory. Was her mark why Dare hadn't kissed her? She was sure he'd thought about it, but he'd pulled away. The mark wasn't twitching right now, thank the gods, but it was gaining color, deepening, as if she was in the process of layering a tattoo.

Uck. The idea of needles made her cringe. She could accept and admire the artwork on other bodies and not feel one iota of guilt for being a chicken.

Everyone had their thing. Cade and Dare had the Elite Guard. The werewolf had growling and intimidation. She had flowers.

Her vision blurred as tears burst through the dam of control. She was crying. Stupid, weak, but true nonetheless. Giving in, she let the emotion flow out of her and waited to feel better. Except, slumped in a corner of her back room, she only felt more miserable, more alone, than ever.

Damn that werewolf. If he ever showed his hairy hide again, she'd deck him just for the aggravation he caused. His overbearing presence and infernal insistence that she wasn't good enough for him had put a spotlight on her perpetual solitude. Solitude she'd previously enjoyed.

Was it too much to hope for one decent boyfriend? Just once she'd like a decent guy to hang out with, get busy with, and part as friends when they were ready to move on.

She was too old in human appearance and way too old in elf years to still be a virgin. Her lack of love life was laughable. How was she supposed to have any confidence when even a shape shifter didn't find her worthy?

Henry strolled by, eyed her cautiously, and she wiggled her fingers with one hand while she dried her tears with the other. "I'm just being a girl," she told him. "It's not contagious." The cat turned on the purr, rubbing his face against her knee and hand. The comforting rumble and soft fur eased the ache in her heart a little.

"You know," she whispered to the cat, "I indulge in the goofiest fantasies. I saw Dare, the other elf" she clarified for Henry "and thought he might be the one." She pushed to her feet, letting the cat guide her to his food bowl.

"I know it's silly, but he's seen so much of the world, I thought maybe he'd be more open-minded about me."

Henry turned a tight circle at her feet as she poured out the cat food. "Do you know how many times I've researched these symbols and the Matchmaker legends? It's been an obsession. One that's affected the way I look at every man like a potential relationship. I need to forget about it. I'm just letting life pass me by."

Henry had stopped listening at the first bite of his kibble. She didn't hold it against him. He couldn't maintain that tomcat bulk without concentrated effort. The cat finished with all due haste and darted out the door, clearly unwilling to listen to more girlish nonsense.

And that's what she was indulging. Nonsense. So she had a human mom and a weird birthmark. She was done waiting for stuff to come to her, done being a pawn. She'd exerted her will by living here and running a business. It was time to make some decisions about her personal life.

Her shop gave her a purpose and work she loved, but she'd been waiting for Mr. Right to walk in, see her mark and say, "Hey look. I was meant for you!"

How passively pathetic.

In her mind, he'd be a tall, lean elf who could overlook her less than stellar DNA. Funny how her elf roots ruled her romantic and sexual preferences, when so many fine-enough human males had been interested. Though she'd dated, she'd always held something back from the men on this side of her life.

"Held out, really," she muttered, dragging out the mop and bucket. "No more. I'll take a cruise, meet someone and just do the deed. That'll help. It'll relieve the pressure."

And if she never met the counterpart for her birthmark, she wouldn't have any regrets.

"The hell you will."

She spun, gaped at the imposing form of Dare standing just behind her, with a smug looking Henry twining between his feet.

"How? What?"

"He…fetched me." Dare's hands fisted at the thought of her 'doing the deed' with some unworthy stranger. He might not be much of an improvement on the concept, but at least he was her kind. Mostly.

She continued to stare at him, her lips moving but creating no words. Her eyes dropped to the cat, and she glared. It was clear by the thin line of her lips she was gathering her composure.

Good luck.

He would not let her execute such a foolish plan. He spared a glance for the cat, amazed by his gratitude to the animal. If she'd managed to sail away in search of… he couldn't even think it… Cade would've killed him.

"I don't see how anything about me is really your business."

Dare heard the words, but more, he heard her confusion.

"If you've promised Cade something." She shrugged a perfectly curved shoulder. "Well, you shouldn't promise what you can't control."

"Where is Cade?"

"Out. How should I know?"

"I will stay until he returns." Dare watched as she got to her feet. Tracked her progress as she approached him, temper sparking like blue flames in her eyes. He'd never seen a more beautiful sight.

"You will not. You are not my keeper. I don't need another brother!"

"I hardly think of you as a sister." She opened her mouth again, but his blood roared in his ears. He captured her mouth with his. Gripping her arms, he dragged her closer until her breasts were crushed to his chest, the friction delightful as the breath sawed in and out of both of them.

Her mouth softened, welcoming his kiss. He reveled in her sweet taste. When her tongue boldly stroked his, he gasped, catching the scent of the roses she processed rather than the lilies she was named for.

She filled his senses, zeroed any hope of rational thought. He'd never been more grateful to be stupid.

His mouth fused with hers as his hands learned the truth of her shape, skimming over lean muscles and molding to her soft curves. Her hips, hot under his palms, were an answer to every male prayer.

But she was not for any other male. She was for him.

Her small, strong hands branded his chest, moved to clutch his shoulders, but it took another moment to realize she was pushing him away.

"Stop!" She turned her face, gaining critical inches as his embrace held.

"Why?"

She squirmed, freezing in place when she realized her body was stroking his arousal.

"Why?" he repeated, watching the blush stain her cheeks. "You kissed me in the churchyard."

"We. You." She shook her head, forced her gaze from his mouth to his eyes. "That was different."

Her glazed eyes confirmed the mutual attraction. He could soar on the wind with this triumph alone.

"We can't do this. I don't want this."

That stopped him, cooled his ardor as nothing else could. He released her, gently so she would not stumble, then he stepped back. Out of reach. His desire for her protested, clawed to be free.

He refused to let his turmoil show, falling back on the extreme formality of his upbringing. "My apologies. If you are safe. I will go."

She nodded, not meeting his gaze.

It was a blow to realize the Matchmaker had been boosting his appeal with the fairer sex. "Send the cat elsewhere if you are in need." He'd keep his promise to Cade, but from a distance.

He turned away, barely caught her whisper as he walked out.

"I didn't send the cat."

Maybe not, but the cat had landed heavy on his chest not an hour ago, pulling him out of the rest he needed.

Lack of rest, impatience and too much time in the presence of an untrained Matchmaker had to be the cause for his misinterpreting his attraction to Lily. He embraced the excuse with nearly the same enthusiasm as he'd embraced the woman.