The Matchmaker's Mark (17 page)

Petting Henry behind the ears and under the collar, she soon had him purring with his happiest, loudest rumble.

"Can you shut that thing off?"

She glanced at the werewolf. "Maybe. If you tell me where my brother is."

"Where's the matchmaker?"

Lily made the cat purr louder still and stifled a grin when her guest winced. "What's so horrible about a purr?"

"You'll know when you're a wolf."

She clapped a hand over the spot on her neck. "You said –"

"I didn't bite you. Although it'd do you some good." He chuckled deep in his chest and the sound reminded her of the cat's purr. "You're fine. Unless my pack comes for me. Then all bets are off."

"So you're important to your people."

He scowled at her and rubbed at his marked arm. "I was once. Now I'm likely useless."

She didn't want to sympathize, wanted nothing close to a connection with him, but too often she'd felt like the forgotten misfit destined to be alone because neither race would risk an alliance.

Human men were often interested in her, but she couldn't get involved with them. Even a half elf would grossly outlive a human. And that was assuming a human male wanted to be caught in the perpetual crossfire of her life. As for elves, well, they were of the impression she was too fragile, too human for them.

The human world was easier to live in simply because normal people were happily ignorant of the undercurrents of magic that surrounded them. They didn't know to scoff at her deficiencies and therefore they made her feel welcome.

It couldn't last forever. As her human friends aged, she'd have to move or find the glamour to mask her appearance, but for now, it was home and she was content. If she didn't count the annoying werewolf currently imposing his will on her life.

"Pretending for a moment I've decided to help you." She ignored the smug spark in his eyes and tapped his marked arm to squelch it. "How did you get this if you don't already know where the Matchmaker is?"

"Not your business. I found her, but before I could ah, say anything, she marked me and one of her guards drove me away."

"Like my brother did? You're track record's not so hot."

"Sure. Let's go with that if it makes you feel better."

She kicked him, but he just rolled his eyes and laid a hand on her shoulder, paralyzing her. "Don't get any wild ideas, kitten."

But she already had one thanks to him, and intended to set her plan in motion the moment she could move again.

It was after closing before the wolf at her kitchen table was relaxed enough to let her putter around the apartment alone.

Scribbling a fast note on a scrap of paper, she rolled it tight and tucked it into Henry's alternate collar. It was a system her brothers had worked out as they'd each left home. Henry could come and go between human and elf realms, allowing them an easy way to stay in touch.

If Henry was open to the suggestion of a romp. The cat could be as unpredictable and temperamental as any normal feline.

Finding Henry, Lily lavished him with love and treats and put on his traveling collar, marveling at the clever magic her brothers applied so Henry understood what to do.

"It's a simple beacon spell," Cade had told her once. "Laced with appropriate gratitude so the cat knows we appreciate his effort."

"Yeah. So simple a halfling couldn't do it," she groused as she ruffled Henry's ears. "Go to it, sweetie. Climb the oldest oak and let them know what's happening."

Henry bumped his head to hers and then turned, tail waving good bye as he bounded down the stairs and out the cat door.

~*~

"What do you mean you saw a mermaid?" Dare demanded, not for the first time. Amy had been on a rant since she'd returned, but Dare had his own foul mood to deal with. He'd received a text from Gilly that left him reeling. And his trip to the flower shop had been worse.

"Exactly what I said the first time. Bitchy sea creature with a tail rather than legs. And that hair. Oh! Are there no combs under the sea?"

Dare had always found mermaids rather calm and lovely creatures, but he knew better than to stereotype any species. Case in point: a Matchmaker with more magic than sense in her system and a half-elf florist matched to a...

He shuddered. Just thinking about the abomination hanging on his woman earlier was enough to have him reaching for his saber. Except she clearly wasn't his woman so it should hardly matter. But he couldn't seem to let it go.

"What is it?" Amy asked, bringing him back to the moment.

Dare flexed his hands in a futile effort to calm the beat of battle thrumming in his veins. "Nothing. You aren't the only one who had a rough day."

Amy opened her mouth, surely ready to vent her spleen once more about how her careful plans were ruined, but he cut her off with a look.

"The bitch with fins, as you call her, only proves how imperative it is we get you and the book together without further delay.

"Despite your lineage, you need training for your new position and the book is vital to understanding the matches, reasons, and barters that Camille and her predecessors arranged."

"But – "

"When will you accept the truth?" Dare demanded in a terrible voice reminiscent of his commander shouting orders during a thunderstorm.

Amy's jaw dropped and tears sprang to her eyes as her hound pressed close to her leg.

"Apologies, Matchmaker." Gods! He'd made her cry. He leashed his runaway temper and tried to calm her. "Please. Amy. Don't cry."

"I'm not crying." Her lips pressed into a firm line. "No apology required. Whether I like or understand the changes, they've obviously happened. The greater mystery might be why I haven't noticed the many creatures my grandma assured me still lived on the fringes of society."

"They're damn well coming out of the woodwork lately," Dare groused.

"Yes," Amy agreed. "Because of me?"

"Yes." She finally understood. She had more power than she recognized and while he might offer some help or a little guidance his mind was wrestling with his own troubles.

"Am I in any danger – real, immediate danger – from this ocean-going temper tantrum?"

"If you enter the ocean, most definitely." A thought occurred to him. "The further you are from a major waterway, the safer you'll be." From mermaids anyway.

Amy arched a brow at him. "You just want me back where you think the book is."

"We both think the book is at your office!" he shouted.

The walls trembled with the darkness of his voice, but Amy looked intrigued rather than scared this time. Even her dog lacked the sense to be afraid. The mythical realms were doomed with this Matchmaker.

"How'd you do that?"

He groaned. "I'll show you when you and the book are united."

She scowled at him. "That's hardly fair." She tried to pout, but he wasn't fooled. "Aunt Camille said to trust the messenger who delivered the book."

"Your Aunt Camille said a lot of things." None of which he appreciated at the moment. He thought of Lily, the woman who couldn't be his, and wondered if the conflict of wanting the unattainable had caused his illness last night. It was certainly making him sick now. "Right now we should deal with the immediate crisis. Tell me everything about the werewolf you marked yesterday afternoon."

"We've been over this. I don't know anything about him. Marking him was hardly intentional."

"Tell me about the match you've foreseen for him."

It would be torture, but he would listen and maybe logic would restore his composure.

"What do you mean?"

Exasperated, Dare swore under his breath. "I need a beer." He stalked to the kitchen and wrenched open the fridge. Thank the gods for Maeve's excellent taste and family money to indulge it. Pulling out a dark long-necked bottle, he popped the top and drank half of it down, grateful for the sweet, smooth taste.

Behind him Amy sputtered with laughter.

"What?"

She covered her mouth, but the giggling continued, squeaking out between her fingers. "Never mind."

He thumped the bottle onto the counter. "Say it."

"The studly effect is muted," she choked, "when it's root beer."

He studied the bottle. That explained his fondness for it and why it did nothing to dull his senses. He and Camille had spent so little time with 'normal' humans he'd forgotten many of the subtleties. "You've had your fun. Now share the vision you had of that were's match."

Her laughter died and the quiet was unsettling. "I didn't have a vision," she said at last, reaching for her dog.

But Dare was starting to understand how she hid her nerves behind small moves like that one. "You must have. Camille explained it to me once. You touch a person, if necessary, and open yourself to see their soul mate." Or the more necessary match as was usually the case during his tenure with her, but he kept that to himself.

"I'm sorry, Dare."

"Think back," he ordered. She cringed and he gentled his voice. "I know you were scared at the time, but there must have been some awareness. Maybe you didn't recognize what was happening."

"Yeah. I'm so experienced now." She held up a hand when he would've pushed more. "Let me find some paper."

Amy busied herself with paper and pencil and, to Dare's increasing impatience, the eraser. When he tried to look over her shoulder, certain Lily's face was coming to life on the page, she sent him such a lethal glare he was surprised his hair wasn't smoking.

After an eternity that was in reality only thirty minutes of his long life, Amy turned the sketch around for his view.

"It's rough, but I took enough art classes that it's accurate. As accurate as I can make it anyway."

Dare ordered his features into a bland expression when he wanted to shout for joy. Not Lily. It was in fact a woman he'd never seen before.

Which only begged the question of why a matched werewolf was pawing and sniffing around the woman Dare wanted but couldn't have.

"Happy now?"

"Actually yes." He kept his focus on the more immediate issue. "This recollection bodes well." The moment she understood the power running untapped in her veins there would be no one to stop her.

"Why did the accidental marking enrage him so?"

"I imagine you've put a damper on his sex life." He understood the were communities put an unnatural value on sexuality and sexual prowess. "The book would have specifics, but I don't think the females of his pack will come near him for fear of being his mate."

Amy snorted. "He didn't look that bad to me. A number of my friends would've found him attractive."

Was Lily in that number?

"I'm tired," Amy said suddenly. "Can we start this all over in the morning?"

"You'll stay here?"

"Scouts honor." She clucked to Guinness and headed toward her room.

"Good. I'll cast some wards for your protection and we'll make travel plans in the morning."

"Fine," she muttered.

He waited until Amy was safely behind the closed door before giving in to his need to check on Lily. The unattainable halfling had been the focus of his young dreams. After so many years of that ethereal connection, he felt he owed her the courtesy of checking on her, just in case the were's attentions were not her idea of a good time.

My dearest Amy,

Some men are simply territorial beasts. The latest client required a security plan so secretive and detailed. Oh, pure ego let me assure you. It's not like I asked him to meet in a mall the day after Christmas! I swear sometimes a man can't make up his mind if he'll be civil or give in to those primal urges and fears.

Some men really need warning signs. Do take care to look for them, dear.

Love always,

Aunt Camille

Amy heard Dare slip out of the house just as Guinness curiously considered the same sounds. The elf was up to something, she just didn't know what and at the moment she didn't care. Still, she waited, in case he was just on the porch, ready to pounce on her with another lecture about safety.

When she was sure he was gone, she returned to the front room and the sketch. Dare was too relieved by the image. His reasons were less of her concern than her own. The final sketch she'd shared had not been the face she'd seen when she'd touched Grant Barclay, the angry, panicked man Dare claimed was a werewolf.

No. The face she'd seen was Maeve's. She'd simply adjusted the sketch so Dare didn't recognize her.

Maybe it was simply that Maeve had been nearby and acting so strangely that day. Or maybe she did need to get to the book as soon as possible.

She absolutely refused to be part of matching her best friend with a handsome stranger who was a werewolf under the surface.