The Matchmaker's Mark

by Black, Regan

  "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.

  She should know better than to spout nonsense about strangers and sex. She who'd been marked from birth for some greater purpose. But judging and grousing as he walked the streets of Charleston did little to relieve the sexual tension and guilt battling inside.

  Halfling or not, she was an adult in both worlds, no matter that she preferred this cluttered, messy world of humans.

  A foreign feeling caught up with him as he returned to Maeve's house. An awareness, a twist in his stomach that wasn't the agony of the previous night, wasn't nausea, wasn't hunger.

  Not even hunger for Lily.

  No, this was different. It was shame. Embarrassment.

  He'd be damn lucky if Cade didn't find out and hunt him down.

  So much for favors owed. Cade would never honor the favor, unless it was to spare his life, when he found out Dare had made a move on Lily.

  Now, so close to another dawn, Dare forgot about sleep and went to prepare the coffee Amy preferred. Putting on water to boil for his tea, he groaned at how his supply had dwindled. He'd have to settle for the flat bland blends of the humans instead of the rich flavors he'd enjoyed while traveling with the Matchmaker.

  He was suddenly eager to be away from Charleston and grateful Amy promised she wouldn't delay any longer. Dare wondered how to tell a mermaid 'thank you' when you didn't know anything about her.

  The old standby of sending flowers popped into his mind, taking him back to Lily, to the kiss, to the grand mistake that was his life.

  Camille may have encouraged him once, but she wasn't here to smooth the path, wasn't available to advise or guide in this tangle of circumstance.

  He couldn't deny Lily was the one female he wanted, body and soul.

  A key rattling in the door pulled him out of his self pity. He turned to see Maeve, looking pale and disheveled. "Long night?"

  She arched an eyebrow and looked around him. "What did you do with her?"

  "Nothing?"

  "I can't find her anywhere."

  "What?" Dare forgot the tea.

  "I went to talk with her about the class and everything else and she's gone."

  "That's impossible."

  "Right." Maeve looked him over, but not with sexual intent this time. "Were you assigned to Camille as a favor to someone? She's gone. Left without a word."

  "She doesn't even have a car."

  Maeve rushed him. "What did you do with her?"

  Startled, he sloshed the tea. "I left her here. Safe."

  "And why would you, Mr. Protective, leave her alone?"

  He refused to answer that. He'd had more than enough from females of every sort for a good long time.

  "She's not here," Maeve insisted.

  He was on his feet, tea forgotten as he lunged for the bedroom door. Behind him, Maeve vocalized the details he cataloged silently. Bed made, no suitcase, no personal items left about. The text and journal for the class she'd been scheduled to teach was stacked neatly on the dresser.

  "Not even a note. Though this is clear enough," Maeve ranted from the kitchen. "What did you do?" She turned her temper on him full force.

  No stranger to a woman's ire, Dare still retreated a step. "I did nothing."

  "She was fine until you came along. Everything was fine!"

  "Lower your voice," he commanded. "I need a quiet moment to think." He picked up the nearest phone and dialed Amy's cell number.

  "I've called her, she won't answer."

  Or she couldn't answer. He had to act, and act quickly.

  There were connections here, the land was old, the sources of power both tame and wild remained in tact beneath the general awareness of the humans.

  "What is there to think about?"

  He used magic to mute her voice so she wouldn't wake the entire block with her shrill rant.

  In the blissful quiet as Maeve's mouth worked like a news anchor on mute, he put the pieces and players he knew into order. He ignored Maeve when she grabbed at his arm, mouthing obscenities no woman should know, thinking instead about Charleston's history as told by the great trees.

  Coming to the odd, but likely conclusion that Camille had not randomly chosen this time to transition her power to Amy, a glimmer
of a plan took root in his mind.

  He gripped Maeve's shoulders and gave her a quick, firm shake. "Can you finish the class without Amy?"

  She glared daggers at him, but gave a curt nod.

  "I do not believe she is in danger." Not yet anyway. "You must trust me. I will have her call you the moment I rein her in."

  A nod.

  "She's not that far ahead of me. I've vowed to protect her."

  A glare.

  Well, he could hardly blame her for doubting that since Amy was clearly elsewhere.

  "Truly. Do not worry. You'll hear from her soon."

  The glare eased up and Dare was struck by a memory that chilled his skin like the first frost.

  He released Maeve, reaching out to the sketch Amy had left on the counter. He raised the paper to hold it near Maeve's face. The eyes were the same, though Amy had added a bump to the nose and made the lips too narrow. And he'd bet anything the cleft she'd drawn in the chin was just to be contrary to his request.

  One more piece to fit into this puzzle. Had Amy drawn Maeve – and changed the sketch – because that was the woman she'd seen when she'd marked the werewolf? Or had she drawn an almost Maeve to throw him a bone when he pushed her for information she couldn't recall?

  "Amy," he grumbled to the general energy of the world, "what game are you playing?"

  "What?" Maeve twisted to look at the sketch. "What is it?"

  "Amy was sketching last night." He handed it to her.

  Maeve wasn't listening, she was frowning at the sketch. "Oh. Well that's just rude. Putting my father's chin on my face."

  Dare readied himself while she grumbled. When it didn't seem like she'd stop anytime soon, he interrupted her. "You will cover for her?"

  "Of course." The woman crossed her arms, glaring at him again.

  "You will be careful?"

  She rolled her eyes, but agreed to that too.

  "You should hear from Amy soon."

  He was at the door.

  "Understand this," she said, coming to stand much too close to him. "If I don't hear from her, I'm coming after you."

  His many decades of training and travel had taught him to recognize a true threat. He began to nod, changed his mind and graced her with a respectful bow. "You would be a formidable foe."

  ~*~

  Lily never opened on Sundays, using the time for herself instead. Some days she played with flowers too spent to sell, charming them into a brief glory, before relegating them to the compost bin. Other days she curled up with Henry and a good book.

  Today, she was too restless for either option. She wanted to blame recent circumstances for her chaotic feelings, but the reality was an elf who had stirred up some serious sensual waves, sending shoots through her system with a reckless craving she didn't know she possessed. Perched on her overstuffed chair, sipping tea, she debated her options.

  Upstairs was dangerous territory where her bedroom and her darkest fantasies mocked her. Downstairs was spotless thanks to her late night cleaning frenzy, but full of hotter memories.

  Memories of Dare kissing her senseless.

  Henry gave a pitiful meow, just as the first church bells started to ring. She wasn't much into the human habit of worship, but she understood the value of forgiveness.

  She braved downstairs and fed the cat.

  With all the arguments and theories circling in her brain, she periodically returned to the one where the cat had done her a favor. Dare's kiss wasn't her first, but she was pretty sure he'd ruined her for anyone else who might come along.

  Which brought her to the next stage in her ever-circling thoughts: What if she called Dare back? If anyone knew about the Matchmaker, about the legends and lore, it would be him. If she opened a dialogue with him...

  She laughed at her delusions of innocence. A dialogue was hardly what she wanted to open for Dare. Lips, arms, legs. Those were the things she really wanted to open. For him. With him. Good grief, when had she sprouted such unquenchable desire?

  Restless, needing distraction, she changed into running gear and headed outside.

  In the alley, she paused, waiting for Cade's invisible, hovering bodyguards to show themselves.

  When they didn't she called them out. "I know you're there." She folded her arms and waited.

  Would there be two? Or three? Her brother was so overprotective with his paranoid tendencies, she'd be lucky if there were less than five.

  Only two of the tall, stern elves of the elite team appeared. She didn't bother asking for names. They'd surely give her aliases.

  "Is this all of you?" She kept her voice firm, while concern niggled at her brain. Had Cade and his team come to Charleston due to some trouble? "Don't bother trying to hide your comrades."

  "We have back up if necessary," the first one said.

  "It won't be necessary," she assured them with a smile. "I'm going for a run down and around the Battery."

  "We will follow."

  She shook her head. "No need. Better to stay here and be sure I don't come back to any surprises." She trotted off, mentally crossing her fingers, hoping they'd buy the rather shaky logic.

  She ran toward the breeze blowing in from the water, her stride relaxed and easy rather than panicked like last time. Cade hadn't been fool enough to drape a spell over her, or order his team to do the same. For a ruthlessly protective brother, he showed moments of brilliance.

  She did her normal loop, jogging down King Street to the Battery, then along the water's edge, marveling at the sea wall that kept nature and human civilization apart. Rounding the point, greeting other runners and walkers, she headed up East Bay, eventually cutting through the quiet neighborhood streets, the soles of her shoes slapping a steady tempo.

  She waved here and there as people came out with steaming mugs of coffee or tea to haul in the heavy Sunday paper.

  Turning back toward the water, toward the trees really, she headed for her own brand of worship. She honored her mother's mortal roots by keeping pace with the Christian calendar, but she could never wholly abandon the deep heritage from her father.

  There were days, times of the year in particular when the history of the earth called to her like a siren and she wished she could be as easy as her brothers and slip back to their realm to celebrate properly.

  This was not one of those days, or seasons. Now most life was quietly dormant under the cool, damp weather that was a Charleston winter. It was restful, yet she felt only the prickly unrest that signaled change.

  But what sort of change?

  She pressed her hands to the wide trunk of an elderly live oak and prepared to reward her muscles with a good stretch.

  Her magic, always weak and unreliable, took over. At her feet grass sprouted while the gray spirals of Spanish moss dripping from the oak's heavy limbs swayed toward her.

  Her mark heated and tingled and a moment's panic had a crocus budding before she released the tree and calmed herself.

  What was that? More importantly, had Cade's team noticed?

  She jerked her sleeve down so she didn't have to see the blasted mark. On quaking legs she paced closer to the cannons, away from the tree that had unearthed a vague memory of her childhood.

  Leaning against the ironwork cast by humans, she found her balance. No interference or intrusion like the memories stored in the trees.

  Behind her, the city continued to wake as people prepared for breakfast and church, oblivious to her confusion and stress.

  Just as it should be. She'd planned to do more than blend here, she'd planned to be nearly invisible as she made a home for herself in this place.

  Letting the sunshine on the water soothe her, she was soaking up the morning's beauty when the purring and nudge against her leg surprised her.

  "Henry?" What was the cat doing here? She rolled her eyes at Cade and his vigilance. He'd probably charmed the cat to take over if she ditched his guards.

  "Poor baby. Did you follow me the whole time?"


  "No."

  She jumped, recognizing Dare's voice, turned on him. "Will you ever just say hello?" Her heart galloped at the sight of him. She was in such trouble here. "You didn't have to use Henry. I was coming back to the shop."

  "Of course."

  She bristled. "Do I look so stupid? If I wanted to run away, I wouldn't run east." She pointed to the water sparkling in the sun.

  "That's exactly why I came to you."

  Lily was in no mood for cryptic conversation. She wanted to jump him if he'd give her a second chance. It was probably better to preserve her dignity where he was concerned. For that, she needed space. "Go away."

  "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?"