The Matchmakers

by Jennifer Colgan

  For a man who’d spent a number of years working hard to avoid legal entanglements, Nick Garrett had no trouble subtly easing his truck toward the Bayerville police station. `You don’t have to be afraid of me, Nick. I’m not a psychopath,śhe said as she rolled down the passenger window. She pulled off one of her gloves and waggled her fingers in the damp air. The rain had stopped, but the windshield wipers still thumped restlessly back and forth, smearing the residual mist over the front window. `Psychopath is a strong word, sweetheart,´ he replied. He seemed to relax a bit. Clearly he felt more in control now, probably because, like most humans who’d just witnessed something they couldn’t readily explain, he believed he’d imagined it all. Callie’s Fae senses told her he now planned to drop her off at the police station where the men in blue would make sure she made her way safely back to the men in white. `I didn’t want to spring this on you, really, but I guess I don’t have a choice.´ `You have lots of choices, so don’t be hasty about springing anything on anybody,´ Nick said, increasing his speed just a little. `I figure we’ll get everything sorted out and get you back where you belong.´ `I belong with you.Ás much as she hated to admit it, at the moment, he was her destiny. That thought only added to the perpetual chill she’d felt since she’d arrived in the human realm. She used her sweetest voice and gave him a sidelong glance. `You don’t know it yet, but your future depends on me. And mine on you. We may not like it, but we have a job to do together, and the sooner we get to work, the sooner we can accomplish what we’ve been charged to do. It’ll be mostly painless. I promise.Śhe winked, or maybe it seemed more like a nervous tick to him. Either way, Nick didn’t seem at all reassured by her explanation. A few seconds later Callie found herself standing on the corner of Washington Street and Apple Valley Avenue beneath an amber-tinted street light. She sighed as she watched the taillights of Nick’s pickup recede into the distance with a sharp squeal of tires. Stamping her feet to ward off the encroaching chill, Calliope pulled her gloves back in place and crossed her arms. `That went well.´ Nick debated whether he should go straight back to Farley’s and order a triple scotch with no ice or to the police station to report the lunatic he’d just ejected from his truck. The ease with which she’d vacated his passenger seat when he’d reached across her lap and flung open the door surprised him more than anything else that had happened since he’d left Miranda’s. In fact, her ready compliance made him even more nervous. She hadn’t seemed at all perturbed by his wordless invitation to the curb, and he swore he’d seen her wave congenially as he drove away. He remembered now, while he waited at the light on the corner of Ackerman and Apple Valley, that she said she’d read his registration, which had his current address on it. Dumping her four blocks from his apartment probably wasn’t the best way to lose her. That `your future depends on me´ bit coupled with the `mostly painlessćrack made his spine tingle in an unpleasant way. He found himself searching the shadows for signs of a fluffy pink coat as he rounded the second corner after the light. Leaving town sounded better and better. He decided he’d stop home and toss a few things into a duffle bag, then head back to Farley’s and call the police from there. She wouldn’t get far by then, and the police would probably have no trouble finding her, as long as some other hapless driver didn’t pick her up in the meantime. `Destiny,´ he repeated with a derisive laugh when the distance eased his mind a bit. `Give me a break.´ He’d dealt with his share of unpleasant break ups, mostly with clingy women who didn’t want to admit the fun times were over, but he’d never been stalked before. Especially by a woman he hadn’t slept with, or even dated or even met for that matter. The sudden stab of sympathy he felt for her took him by surprise, but he managed to shake it off before he pulled into his parking space and cut the engine. A girl as messed up as that one needed help. Maybe he should have stuck it out and tried to lure her into the police station. Since his cell phone didn’t turn up during a quick search of the truck, he decided to call the police from his apartment. He climbed the stairs and let himself inside, his guilt weighing heavy. A pretty girl out on the street alone probably wouldn’t have trouble getting picked up again. Should he worry more about her or the next guy she shanghaied? `Hi, Nick.Śhe spoke just as he hit the kitchen light switch, and the shock of finding her there, standing in front of him, nearly gave him a stroke. She had to have run here from the spot where he’d left her in order to get into his apartment before he arrived, yet she wasn’t even breathing heavy. She pulled off her woolly gloves and unzipped her coat to reveal the plain white t-shirt she wore beneath, and he backed up a step. She bore no weapons that he could see, though he’d have liked a closer look. He slid his gaze to the phone on the wall behind her and then to the narrow drawer under the counter where he kept the sharp knives. Nothing seemed to be disturbed, but he’d learned the hard way after a run-in with an angry hooker in a bar in Chicago never to underestimate a woman on the edge. He put his hands up in a calming gesture and gave her a shaky smile. `How’d you get in here?´ `I popped.Śhe delivered her casual reply with a shrug. `Could you µpop’ out just as easily?´ `Sure.Ánd she did. Nick blinked at the now empty kitchen. He whirled around to look behind him at the equally empty living room, then turned back to the kitchen again. His first and only thought was how he could have lost his mind so quickly, with no warning whatsoever. One day he felt perfectly sane, working on Miranda’s pool house and indulging in nothing stronger than a cold beer at the end of the day and poof all of a sudden he’s plagued by a recurring hallucination. Before he could calculate the odds that he’d inherited some mysterious mental illness from either branch of his uptight family tree, she `popped´ back into the kitchen, all wide smile and sparkling eyes.

  `I’m ba-aack,śhe sang. Nick sank into the nearest kitchen chair and stared at her. `I’m not going to ask how you did that, because I probably didn’t really see what I think I saw.´ `Yes, you did.Śhe crossed the kitchen and gently put her hand on his shoulder. Nick flinched. Talking to a hallucination was one thing, but feeling one touch him was something else entirely. `You’re not dead and you’re not crazy.Śhe crouched in front of him and looked up into his eyes. She seemed so real. He could even smell her perfume, a faint flowery scent, like roses« `Are you a ghost?´ He’d read somewhere that ghosts tended to smell like roses or tobacco, scents they carried with them from their former lives to reassure the people they left behind. Of course, Nick didn’t believe in ghosts or, for that matter, people who could disappear at will. `Not a ghost. I’m a faerie. Though we prefer the term Fae.´ `A faerie.´ Well, why the hell not? `Like sugar plums and Tinkerbell?Śhe shrugged and moved across the kitchen to lean against the counter by the sink, once again cutting off his access to the phone. `Those are stereotypes, of course, but you’re close.´ `Where are your wings?´ `Wouldn’t you like to know?Śhe winked, crossed her legs at the ankle and gave him a cockeyed grin. `If we succeed, maybe you’ll get to see them. Right now, we need to start formulating a plan.´ `My plan is to get myself to a rubber room ASAP. I’m not too proud to admit that I may need professional help.´ `You don’t. Well, you do , but that’s another story. You’re not imagining me.´ `It’s funny, I don’t feel crazy. I don’t think I’m asleep. Maybe I hit my head going over the embankment, and I’m in a coma or something.Śhe sighed. `You’re not any of those things. I’m real. You’re real, and we’re in a real fix. The Fae Goddess, Freya, has sentenced us to the task of joining together three couples in true love before the night of the Oak Moon. If we fail, we will both lose love forever.´ Nick blinked again, hoping his visitor would `popóut of existence and leave him to go quietly insane by himself. None of what she said made sense. He still thought she might be a lunatic who’d broken into his apartment with plans to kill him, or chain him to the bed and cut parts off like that crazy dame in the Stephen King novel. He was beginning to think he should have stayed at Miranda’s and duked it out with Skip. At least he’d be in jail or in the ER now where he could get some professional help.

 
She snapped her fingers, and his drifting gaze bounced back up to her face. `Stay with me, Nick. We’ve got a lot of work to do.´ `Right. Work.´ He rose and headed for the fridge, sparing the telephone another longing glance. Why bother now? Might as well hear her out. He opened the refrigerator and reached past the half loaf of bread and a jar of grape jelly to grab a beer. Would this be his fourth tonight, or his first? He popped the top, not caring that the cap landed on the cracked linoleum and rolled under the stove. He downed half the brew while the faerie eyed him expectantly. `Want one?´ `No, thank you.´ `Good. Now, I’m going to drink the rest of this and probably at least one more before I’ll be ready to deal with any more of this. If you’re still here by then, we’ll start at the beginning. You can explain what exactly you are and what I’m supposed to do to get you out of my head and my house before I really do go insane, assuming I’m not already. Capice ?Śhe nodded, and he drained the beer. He set the empty bottle on the counter and snagged a second. She was still there when he closed the refrigerator door. When he placed the second empty beer bottle on the kitchen table and took a seat, she was also still there. `Are you ready now?śhe asked, and the exasperated undertone in her voice gave him a chilly reminder of his mother. He closed his eyes and nodded. `Start at the beginning and go slow.Ćalliope shrugged out of her coat under Nick’s disconcerting scrutiny. He obviously expected her to turn homicidal at any moment, and she wasn’t quite sure how to convince him to trust her. Most of the humans to whom she’d demonstrated any of her Fae abilities immediately wanted to see more amazing feats and ended up begging her to grant them wishes. She squeezed her eyes shut at that unpleasant memory. Granting wishes seemed like such a nice thing to do and the ones she’d granted in the past were simple, benign. Not much more than favors, really. It wasn’t as if she’d given anyone eternal life or inexhaustible wealth or ultimate power. She shook off the creeping tingle of shame that tickled the edges of her well-hidden wings and tossed her coat on the back of one of Nick’s pomegranate-colored kitchen chairs. `May I sit down?Śhe almost missed Nick’s response, a nearly imperceptible tilt of his head. She pulled the chair out and sat before he had a chance to change his mind. The cold, faded red surface of the ancient kitchen table gave her a chill when she leaned her forearms on it, and she had to rub them briskly with her hands to keep her Fae blood flowing. Why couldn’t she have been exiled to a warmer climate to carry out her task? `It’s a complicated story,śhe said. `I’ll bet.´ `Um«´ Why did he have to stare at her like that? He seemed to look into her, suffusing her with the heat of self-consciousness.

  Despite the hard-earned wisdom she saw in his eyes, he still thought her a menace to his well being. One sudden move and she had no doubt she’d find herself evicted from his apartment as unceremoniously as he’d ejected her from his truck. `Okay. Here’s the short version. Feel free to ask questions. I’m a Fae. I belong to the caste that governs the fulfillment of destiny, specifically love. The Fae goddess, Freya, presides over my caste. She’s my boss, so to speak.´ `What is she like Cupid?´ `He’s retired now, but yes, in a way. My caste we help the cause of true love. We help put people together.´ `That sounds better than taking them apart.´ `Let me finish.´ Had he smirked at her? Was she cracking his gruff, skeptical exterior? `I really like my job. Maybe too much. I got carried away recently and did something I wasn’t supposed to do. I granted a wish.´ `You grant wishes?´ He sat forward, suddenly interested. Next he’d be asking to win the lottery. Callie rolled her eyes and settled her gaze on the fine cracks that marred the finish on the table. She traced the delicate lines with her thumb as she continued, reluctant to confess her sins. Remember, if this all works, he’ll forget everything I tell him. `I don’t grant wishes. That’s the point. I’m not allowed to, even when they’re simple, easy, mostly harmless little wishes. I’m not allowed.´ `So you broke the rules?´ The tone of his question told her he admired that. Nick was a rule breaker of epic proportions, so he understood the need to buck the system. `Yes. I allowed a human to wish for someone to fall in love with her someone who was the one she wanted, but not the one she needed. I made a mess of things.´ Nick put one elbow on the table and rested his chin in his hand. `Go on.Ćallie saw it immediately the change in his demeanor from guarded skepticism to guarded amusement. He no longer thought she was a psychopath, just a harmless loony bird on the loose. Fortunately she still had an arsenal of Fae tricks at her disposal to help him become a true believer. `After Freya stepped in and helped me set things right, and after an eternity of heated debate, it was decided that my punishment for breaking the rules was«you.´ `Me?´ He laughed, and the deep sound rumbled pleasantly. How could a man with a laugh like that be all bad? `Sweet cheeks, I’ve been a lot of things to a lot of women, but I’ve never been anyone’s punishment. I’d say you made out on the deal.´ `Oh please.Śuch arrogance. Nick’s biggest problem was that he liked himself for the wrong reasons. His sex appeal and charm were undeniable to any human female, of course, but as Freya had explained to Callie, those shallow qualities were all he had. There was nothing underneath, or very little anyway, that could be salvaged into a loving, caring soul. `You’re my punishment because you’re a hopeless case. Or nearly hopeless.´ `A hopeless case of what?´ He laughed again and rose, turning his back on her in a show of trust she hadn’t expected so quickly. He opened the fridge again and fished out a third beer, which he offered to her. `You need this more than I do.´ `No, thank you. Alcohol does bad things to Fae. Now, back to you. You’re a hopeless case because you’ve been decreed an enemy of true love.´ His hypnotic eyes widened, and his smile faded. `Enemy? That’s a strong word. How about µdisgruntled former acquaintance’?Ćallie shook her head. `Nope. You’re a DEF CON 1, picture-in-the-post-office type of enemy.´ He stiffened a little, obviously back on the defensive. `What«uh«happens to enemies of true love?Ćallie smiled. `You get a chance to redeem yourself. I’m your chance.Ćhapter Four Nick set the unopened beer on the counter and leaned back, appraising her again. `I can redeem myself to this goddess Freya by what did you say before helping unite three couples in true love?´ `With my help. We do it together.´ `I’m no matchmaker, Tinkerbell.´ `Calliope. Or Callie, please. You will need to become one if you don’t want to forfeit love forever.´ Callie sensed she was losing him. `You can’t lose something you never had.´ He looked down at his work boots, and his voice changed, became laced with a hint of hard-edged regret. `Send Freya my apologies, but I don’t give a damn about redeeming myself.´ When he looked up, his eyes were cold. Disappointment swept through Callie, and she felt an unfamiliar heaviness in her chest. That swell of hopelessness had returned. Freya had given her a truly impossible task. `Maybe you haven’t experienced true love yet, but imagine if you were never able to love at all.´ He straightened. `You mean I could never«you know«´ Men. `No, that’s not what I mean. You’ll be able to«have sex. You’ll still feel lust and infatuation and those deceptive emotions that feel just like love for a short time, but it will never be real love. You’ll never be able to love anyone ever again not a spouse, a sibling, a parent or even a child. Imagine that, Nick. Having a child you couldn’t love.´ He shrugged, but she saw the stab of pain she’d caused. Her words had reached his heart. `People do that all the time.´ `And you want to be one of those people?´ `We’re getting ahead of ourselves here. I don’t plan to have children. I’m not that kind of guy.´ `People do that all the time, too have children they didn’t plan on.Śhe had him there, and he knew it. `If you don’t care about your own future, then at least help me out. If we fail, I’ll suffer the same fate. No love forever. And I’m immortal.´ His blue eyes narrowed on her, and Callie responded by batting her lashes. She’d have waggled her wings, too, but she wasn’t allowed to show them, and she couldn’t afford to break any more of Freya’s rules. `Let me think about it. Why don’t you go home for now, and we’ll meet again«tomorrow. We’ll talk more about it then.´ `We really shouldn’t waste any time. The Oak Moon is only sixty-three days away.´ `Tomo
rrow is a better day to start. Why don’t you pop out and pop back in around noonish? I’ll order us a pizza.´ There was a challenge in his voice. He probably wanted to see her tricks again just to be sure he wasn’t nuts. Callie grabbed her gloves and her coat and obliged with a small wave. `Okay, Nick. Goodbye for now.´ Nick swept his gaze around the room as thoroughly as possible without moving any other muscles. She’d done it again. Her magic trick wigged him out a little more this time than it had before, though he wasn’t sure why. He’d seen a couple of shows in Vegas where illusionists made things disappear like that women, motorcycles, Bengal tigers. From a hundred feet away in a dark, crowded auditorium, he’d found it endlessly entertaining. Up close and personal in his very own kitchen, it made him twitchy. After several complete sweeps of the minute hand over the clock above the sink, he deemed it safe to move. A complete recon of the entire apartment, closets and all he even peeked behind the shower curtain turned up nothing. All the windows were locked, the front door, too. How she’d gotten in didn’t concern him half as much as how she’d gotten out. Or if she had. Nothing stood between Nick and the phone now, but he couldn’t bring himself to make the call. What would he tell the police anyway? She’d gone peacefully and without damaging anything, and she’d left no evidence of her existence except the lingering scent of roses. Nick didn’t remember going to bed. He barely remembered inspecting his truck by flashlight and finding his cell phone on the floor under the passenger seat, then running his hands along the paint job as he looked for the scratches and dents that couldn’t have disappeared without a trace. He vaguely recalled his third beer and the four times he’d picked up the phone to report his wingless, green-eyed faerie to the police. Now, it all seemed like a dream that could be easily forgotten. During those first few minutes of partial amnesia after he’d pried his leaden eyelids open, he thought again about leaving town. He’d been in Bayerville for eight months. That was longer than he’d stayed anywhere since he’d left home about twenty minutes after he turned eighteen. Twelve years of roaming the country, seeing the world, had taken him as far south as Acapulco and as far north as Nova Scotia. There were dozens of places he’d promised to return to and hundreds he’d vowed to stay away from. Bayerville, Pennsylvania was a pretty little place that presented itself at a time when he needed a break. He’d found a furnished apartment with a month-to-month lease and started taking carpentry jobs to pay the rent. He’d gotten comfortable.