by Black, Regan
"I had to make sure it was me." Her hands were restless, patting a frantic rhythm on her thighs, until she grabbed his shirt. She gifted him with a kiss, her lips warm and soft on his. And gone too quickly. "Thank you," she said, smoothing his shirt. "It tickles."
He rubbed at the stubble on his chin, searching for any appropriate reply, but she'd blanked his mind.
"Not that." She laughed. "The spell."
Of course not that. He was twisted up with sexual fantasies and she was riding the high of successful magic. Big difference. "Never thought of it that way," he managed, proud his voice sounded normal.
"Really, Dare. Thank you." She bounced on her toes like a kid anticipating Christmas morning. "Come on. Let's walk back. The shop is trashed and I refuse to do all the clean up."
"The werewolf is gone?"
"So says the note from Cade. Although it also says he's bringing back pizza for dinner."
"A peace offering." Dare hated pizza, but he had to hope for an invite so he could debrief Cade.
"What's she like?"
He didn't bother asking who Lily meant. "She's new." And he didn't need to look to see the frown marring her lovely face.
"What's that mean?"
"She's new to the job. No roots yet, she's just feeling her way."
"Got it." She tugged on her sleeves and he wove a little spell around her like a sweater. "The werewolf is determined to find her. Confront her." She heaved a sigh. "Don't take this the wrong way, but I feel a little sorry for him."
"The wolf?" Dare was trying to digest that when Lily shocked him further.
"He claims I'm not his match, but I'd rather hear it from her."
He thought of the sketch. "No."
"But he showed up, tracked me down –"
"No!" He snarled it as he jerked her off the sidewalk, pressing her back into the doorway of a closed bakery. Fate wouldn't be so cruel as to give someone so fine as Lily to a barbarian like that animal.
The memory of the afternoon, seeing that furball pawing at her hazed his vision. He pushed it away so he could feast on the reality of her, of this moment. Those huge blue eyes blinked at him now, full of uncertainty. He studied her mouth, his imagination surging beyond the sweet to a dark, sensual plunder. He backed away. She'd had enough fright for one day. No matter that they couldn't be together, he would not leave her with bad memories of him.
"My apologies."
"Wait, wait." Her delicate fists curled into his jacket and held him with a surprising strength. "When did you come by the shop? I never saw you today."
"I didn't come inside. You were otherwise occupied. I decided not to interrupt."
"Heated, you said." She glared at him. "I was a captive, remember?"
He did remember. He remembered the look on the werewolf's face. "That son of a bitch knew." Dare slumped against the opposite wall of the doorway, breaking Lily's grip. Regrettable, but it made for clearer thinking. "How would he know about me?"
"Umm. My fault?"
He looked at her, took in the guilty expression, but he couldn't believe she'd done anything on purpose to assist that blasted animal. "Explain."
"We fought when he first, um, arrived."
Dare was incensed. Ready to beat an apology from the werewolf at the earliest opportunity.
"No big surprise that I lost," she said, looking at her feet.
"How could any sister of Cade lose to a wolf?"
She shook her head. "Cade's halfling sister, remember? I can manage many unimpressive things. But I was saying I didn't wake up until the next morning. He could have –"
Dare muted her voice with magic and punched the wall. "I'll kill him."
"No! Not that." She swallowed. "I mean he could have searched my mind for information. He probably did, considering my own mark was completely visible to him."
He glanced down when she pulled her sleeve up. His heart dropped into his stomach. Her mark was definitely reacting to something. All his battle instincts screamed 'retreat' and 'reassess'. Officially, his trek to Charleston had nothing to do with Lily. She was coincidental. Just a woman who might have been the fantasy of his youth. There were too many obstacles. Too many factors opposing his hopes of a quiet match.
And when had he begun hoping about a match?
He shook his head, shaking off the haze left behind from this day packed with too much emotional chaos. "Again I must apologize. You were clearly not in the danger I assumed. I am glad." A small part of him protested the extreme formality, but his training was all that could save him from irreversible embarrassment.
"Thanks. I think I'm flattered by your concern."
Her voice was cool and in the small space, she managed to shrink away from him. "I'll be fine from here."
"Cade would not appreciate my leaving you unattended." Inside he cringed. Cade would not appreciate Dare's pulsing desire and vivid fantasies about Lily. It's not like he didn't know she was marked. Of all the inhabitants of the world, he knew better than to dally with a woman marked for another.
For the first time in his life, he prayed for his own skin to stain with the Matchmaker's mark. Preferably in the pattern that would match Lily's.
They stepped onto the sidewalk and headed down King Street toward her shop. "Who will prevent the werewolf's return?"
"I'm sure Cade's thought of something. I only hope the solution's not worse than the werewolf. "
An odd thought, but Dare kept quiet. It probably related to sibling dynamics.
The orange tabby cat was waiting for them by the back door, purring at the sight of Lily. "Henry the Eighth," she said by way of introductions, bending to pet him.
He eyed the cat, reminded himself it was ridiculous to covet Lily's touch. "How does he know where to find Cade?"
"Some spell my brothers put on the collar. If Henry's in the right mood, he takes it to the elves and eventually one of my brothers shows up."
He gazed down at her, wondering. "Do you have to use it often?"
"Mostly just Christmas and Easter." She was smiling, so he mirrored the wry expression, though he didn't get the joke.
She stood up, reached for the door, then spun around abruptly to face him. "Hey. Did you see how Cade opened the door?"
"No. He went in through the window."
"Oh." Dare watched as she thought it through. "How did you get in?"
He pointed to the planter and muttered, "I used the key."
He wasn't sure what she found amusing, but she laughed as lightly as spring rain. The sound shimmered over him, through him, urging him closer. Urging him to taste it. Dare recognized the unmistakable comfort and familiarity of the girl from his dreams. How was he supposed to hold strong against such a lovely temptation?
He had to get beyond this. Lily was not who Camille had sent him to find. By disappearing, Camille effectively released him from service – after he united Amy and the book – but that didn't negate the laws of love and politics he'd learned by her side. Despite the romantic notions of the elderly trees on the Battery, he would be moving on. Tomorrow.
"Good night," he said to Lily as she and the cat crossed the threshold. "Take care."
"You too."
As the door was closed and locked between them, Dare forced his feet to move away.
Sensing movement on the fire escape opposite, he tensed for attack, but it was only Cade leaping to the ground.
"Thank you for taking her away."
Dare nodded, letting Cade believe what he wanted.
"Doesn't look like she hurt you."
"No." Dare caught Cade's joke. "She wasn't happy, but she didn't take it out on me. You might want to give her a little space though."
"Yeah. I'm staying here, but I have other, um, responsibilities."
Dare understood Cade's hesitation as the limits of available information. "What about the werewolf?"
"He'll be holed up, licking his wounds far from here for awhile."
"So Lily is safe?"
; Cade's smile was wicked. "I won't ask what you're doing in town, but if you could stay tuned in while you're here…" He cleared his throat. "I'd owe you one."
A big concession from a member of the Elite Guard. And a blanket favor like that wasn't offered often, which made it particularly rude to turn such an offer down. The last thing he needed was a legitimate reason to stay near Lily. Somber, Dare extended his arm and Cade matched the grip, hand to elbow. "For as long as I'm in town."
"Is the Matchmaker here? For her?"
"To the best of my knowledge yes and no, respectively."
Cade's eyes revealed his resignation. "She's been different her whole life. I'd hoped for more for her than this half existence among her mother's people."
Dare had no idea how to address that uncomfortable topic or how to extricate himself from the awkward moment. He didn't attempt even a trite reassurance.
"Well. She'll want me to clean up. To your health!"
"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.
Chapter Eight
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 he
art 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?"
