The Matchmaker's Mark (14 page)

Dare swallowed against another surge of grief and guilt for decisions long gone. He was an elf with no forest. Who knew a warrior could be so terrified by something as intangible as a murky future?

~*~

Lily stared at the ceiling, wishing she could move, but unwilling to disturb Henry. He was a warm weight across her middle and at the moment he was keeping the butterflies quiet. The whole scene in the churchyard was replaying like a looping movie trailer, keeping her awake with unanswerable questions and implications.

She'd made it home without catching a whiff of 'lovesick werewolf'. Her shop and apartment upstairs were brother-less, but Henry greeted her with enthusiasm since his food bowl was empty again. After setting the electronic security system, she'd cast the charm for the elf equivalent and retreated to her room with a pint of chocolate-cherry ice cream to wait for Cade.

Where could he be? She'd checked all the usual sources, but he hadn't bothered to leave her a message anywhere by any device. Which probably only meant he'd taken out the werewolf and gone back to report his success to his Elite Guard buddies. They'd probably celebrate for days.

She might find that scenario more convincing if Cade weren't so overprotective. He wasn't the sort to forget to call or fail to confirm she was safe after he'd sent her running.

The army of butterflies tried to launch again and she stroked Henry's ear to stay calm. His loud, rumbling purr soothed her until it stopped abruptly. She watched his ears come to attention and followed his intent gaze. Seeing nothing, she still braced for his inevitable leap toward the door. Instead, he spun on her midsection and dove under the bed.

Not good. Lily held her breath, frozen, listening for any sound. Hearing nothing, she scolded herself and the cat for their combined paranoia.

No wonder her elf house didn't miss her. She had weak magic and no common sense. Her internal disdain evaporated instantly when she caught the telltale creak of the stairs.

Definitely not Cade. Her brother was too light on his feet for that. Unless he was hurt, though in that case, he'd be hollering for help.

Her instincts were screaming intruder! An intruder with power enough to bypass both layers of security. The options flitted through her head: too few and all equally lame. Any attempt of magic would only give away her precise location.

Lily slid out of bed, taking the heavy brass candlestick on her nightstand with her. Following Henry's example, she tucked herself into the space between the bed and the wall and waited to make her move.

When a shadow blotted out the glow from the hall nightlight, her fingers flexed on the cool brass.

The shadow advanced into her room. Lily pressed herself to the floor. Under the bed, Henry hissed. The shadow stopped, emitted a low growl, and lunged.

Henry shot out of the room and Lily held her breath as the weight of whatever-whoever it was landed in the middle of her bed, the momentum slamming the bed to the wall.

A triumphant howl confirmed this was the same damned werewolf from Mama Rita's. Well he could just put a hold on the celebration. Lovesick werewolf indeed. This beast wasn't exhibiting anything so soft as love. If she lived to see Darian Knoll again, she vowed to strangle him.

She didn't bother with defensive magic she didn't have, she barely registered the burning on her arm. From her uncomfortable position she noted the large, black-booted feet return and move toward the door. In a blink, she saw the ceiling rather than bed frame. The intruder had tossed the bed aside and now loomed over her.

Candlestick in hand, she surged to her knees, landing blows hard enough to have him grunting and dodging. All too soon, she was disarmed, her arms pressed tight to her sides, banded by his ruthless embrace.

Gasping for breath, she threw her head back, hoping to bloody his nose.

He gurgled and tripped backwards, but his hold didn't weaken.

Lily kicked and stomped, missing more often than she connected in her determination to get away.

"Stop," he rasped in her ear.

Never! She tossed her head to the side and connected with his jaw this time. She saw stars, but it was worth it to hear him swearing again.

"Hold still, dammit." It was a lethal growl as he squeezed until she couldn't breathe. "I don't want to hurt you."

She didn't have the ability to make the obvious suggestion that letting go would be the best thing for her health. She rolled her shoulders in a last ditch effort to breathe, but he didn't relent.

"You're marked. Like me."

Lily trembled at that horrible statement. She didn't want to be mated to a confused werewolf. She might only be half an elf, but at least she knew how to stay in one shape. The preferred, human shape.

All the warnings came rushing back, even as her lungs burned for air. The dangers and unpredictability of were breeds. Even the good elf girls with serious bad-boy complexes didn't dream about taking up with weres. They were too volatile. A point only proved by her current situation.

"So you do kill your mates," she squeaked.

"That's a lie!" He released her so fast, she fell to her hands and knees. Hauling in air, she decided to be grateful rather than offended while she looked for an escape route. "Who tells you this crap?"

"Old wives?" She could dart between his legs if she were quick. And he was distracted. Where was Henry when she needed him? Where was Cade?

"You're marked," he repeated. "You've seen the Matchmaker."

"No. Well, yes. Maybe?" She curled up on the floor, hoping the helpless look would play to any sympathy he might have buried beneath the hair and fangs. "Fix my bed."

"In a minute. She's a frumpy little woman. Have you seen her or not?"

Amy wasn't frumpy. "No."

He rumbled something she didn't understand. "Don't play with me, little girl. The Matchmaker's scent is all over you." He knelt on one knee and gripped her chin in his hand. "I've spent a long and extremely uncomfortable night waiting for you. Tell me where you saw her."

Lily jerked her chin free. "What did you do to my brother?"

She should have stayed with Cade, combat liability or not. Considering her current predicament, she grudgingly admitted her family was right. In the cemetery, she'd surprised Dare with her dirty little sister tactics. But she had a feeling this wolf wasn't about to be fooled by anything she threw at him. If she survived, she'd check into those self-defense classes Jim kept talking about.

"Your brother?"

"Tall, pointy ears. He kicked your ass earlier. Ring any bells?"

"Oh, him." He stood and pulled her to her feet as well. "He said I couldn't talk to you. We went out back to debate it." He spared a glance for her destroyed bedroom. "Seems I won."

Lily felt tears burn her eyes but she refused to cry with this beast staring her down. "I won't mate with you."

"Honey, that's the best news I've had all night."

His gruff laughter grated against her pride. Stupid really, since she had no intention of being forced into a match with anyone other than her soul mate.

He turned on the overhead light and pointed to her bare arm. "Looks nasty."

"Gee you're full of compliments."

"Look at mine." He revealed his own mark.

She'd thought her mark was bizarre. Nasty was a tame word for what looked like a venomous bite at his wrist. Red streaks spread away from the center, following his blood vessels toward his elbow. She cringed and leaned away. "Yuck. Mad flea disease?"

"God you're brave." He shook his head, a wry smile on his face. "I could almost like you."

She could almost sympathize with him. "Does it hurt?"

"Not like you think." He pushed his sleeve back down. "Where is the Matchmaker?"

"I wouldn't tell you if I knew."

He snarled, stepping close, and hauling her to her feet. "I don't want anything from you but her location." He wagged a finger between them. "We are not matched."

Eye level with the collar of his black t-shirt, she held her ground, tipping her face back to meet his hard, dark eyes. "Thank God for small favors."

"Tell me."

Lily shook her head. "Sorry. You got the wrong memo. There haven't been any freaky-eyed manipulative old women in my shop lately."

He loomed closer still and now she did retreat until her back was pressed to the bottom of her upturned bed. "Don't lie to me. I can smell her on you."

Well, that was just rude. She'd showered and put on her favorite gardenia-scented lotion. "I don't know where she is. I cannot help you. Good bye." She reached out, intending to spin away and drop the bed on the intruder. In her mind it worked as smoothly as in the action movies her brothers made her sit through.

Reality was different. The werewolf reached out, caught the bed frame in one hand and wrapped Lily tight against him with the other.

"You're a pain in the ass, little girl."

"Thank you." She pushed at his arm, but it didn't budge. "Now let me go."

"No, kitten –"

"My name is Lily!" She hated frail, fragile nicknames. And she was damned tired of being underestimated. She stomped on his foot and threw herself to the side. She heard a grunt and felt a hard pinch on her neck before her world went dark.

Lily woke up to the soft morning light bleeding through the break in the curtains and a frighteningly sore spot on her neck to let her know she hadn't been dreaming. Curious, cautious, she took inventory from her toes on up. She felt mostly normal. And she was alone in the bed – no small measure of relief there.

She looked around, startled to find no evidence of their struggle. Her uninvited guest had put her entire room back in order while she'd slept? Quietly, she slid from the bed and put her feet on the floor. She needed to know if he'd bitten her, if she was destined to become the weakest werewolf or strongest half elf hybrid on the planet.

She tiptoed to the antique vanity and leaned over to peer into the mirror. There was a dark bruise where her neck curved into her shoulder. Just a bruise. No evidence of fang punctures or scratches.

"I only pinched a nerve."

She jumped and spun around to see her attacker lounging in the doorway.

"You know, like Spock's move in Star Trek?" He came forward with a steaming cup of tea as if this was just a friendly morning routine between them.

He'd used her own secret move on her. "Get out," she snapped. "You – you – "

"I'd be happy to go." His eyes swept the room, and a sneer played on his mouth as he seemed to assess the cottage chic look she loved so much. "This isn't my ideal retreat, kitten."

"What have you done with Henry?" Smothering the instinctive shiver, she moved closer to the wolf, intent on leaving the room and finding her cat. "Henry!"

"Why must I always be saddled with the addled?"

Lily figured the question was rhetorical. She didn't want to answer, only escape, but his big hand put an unshakable lock on her biceps. As if last night wasn't enough proof of his physical superiority.

"Kitten," he purred it, the bastard. "You were alone last night."

"I was not."

"You were. All the way through morning. Aside from me, you're still alone."

Lily turned to face him, curiosity winning the battle. He was certainly imposing, from the hard planes of his face, shadowed by the overnight growth of his dark beard, to the strength rolling off him. She could feel the power he held in check.

"What do you want?"

"I've told you. The Matchmaker."

"And I've told you, I don't know where she is."

He shrugged. "We'll see."

"So you're just staying here until…"

"Until further notice."

What was it with the tough guys wanting to hang out in her flower shop? She twisted against his hold, but it did little good. "Tell me what happened to Cade and Henry."

"Are you offering something in return?" He gave her another inscrutable look.

"Let me go. I have a business to run," she said, scowling up at him.

"So run it." He released her with a little shove. "And pray the Matchmaker comes in so you can run it alone."

My dearest Amy,

How did the midterms look? It's so smart to reel in your new students with contemporary literature. I can't wait to hear about the comparative papers when they experience the true classics.

Some days I look back over your letters and envy you so. Teaching is challenging at any level, and I don't underestimate the blood and sweat you've put into your career and your students, but from my place at the consulting conference table, it looks so blissfully simple.

Impart, assign, grade. Ah, Amy, I hope you appreciate such a straightforward profession.