Make Me A Match (The Matchmaker) (23 page)

I looked at my arm. Blood stained my skin and dress. So much
blood, but there was no wound. Frantic, I pulled up my tattered sleeve,
searching my arm. Nothing. I let the sleeve fall back and gripped Owen’s
shoulders. “You stupid, stupid man!”

Why? Why had he done it? I gripped his arm and turned it
over. There, across those tattooed muscles was a sharp red line. My injury. Seb
had almost died because of his Protector. No, I couldn’t let Owen die. I
wouldn’t. I patted his face lightly, but he didn’t stir. I wasn’t even sure if
he breathed. He was pale…so pale.

I gripped his shirt, terrified. “Owen, please. Don’t leave
me. I don’t know what the hell I’m doing. I’ll probably get caught again, and
you’ll most likely have to save me. Please, I can’t do this alone.”

Still he didn’t respond.

“Jotham!” I cried out, my voice echoing across the field.
“Jotham, please!”

I didn’t wait, but leaned down and covered my mouth over
Owen’s. I gave him two quick breaths, watching the rise and fall of his chest
from the corner of my eye. Just as I was getting ready to press my hands to his
sternum for compressions, I felt the slightest shiver of awareness. Hope sprang
to life. Jotham’s tall, serene form shimmered into being.

Even before he fully appeared, I cried out, “Do something!”

His startled gaze found Owen’s lifeless form. But Jotham
didn’t react, merely shook his head mournfully. “There isn’t much I can do. His
powers are weakened. He’s dying.”

“No, please, Jotham,” I whispered, resting my hands on
Owen’s chest. If I could feel his heartbeat, if I could touch him, then
somehow, maybe I could keep him alive. “I’m begging you…do something.”

For one long moment he was silent. Not even the birds
chirped. Finally he sighed, those narrow shoulders slumping. “There is a way,
one way that might work.”

“Whatever it is, do it.”

He nodded, seeming determined now. When he knelt beside us
and held out his hand, I didn’t hesitate and wrapped my fingers around his.
“You’ll come with me.”

He rested his free hand on Owen’s shoulder. Suddenly
everything went black. I didn’t have time to panic, didn’t even have time to
question his motives. When the light burst to life, we were standing in a small
bedroom. White wallpaper with tiny roses covered the walls, while a four-poster
bed took up much of the area. But it was Owen, lying upon that bed so still and
quiet, who caught my attention.

“Where are we?”

“Your aunt’s cottage, now yours.”

Nothing had changed, only our location. Owen was still pale,
still near death. Anger and confusion combined. “Why are we here?”

“Here, you can hide in peace. Here, no one will find you,
for your aunt had the good sense to use a fairy protection spell to hide the
place. And here he can mend.”

Hope welled within, giving me reason to breathe. I rested on
the edge of the bed, taking Owen’s cold hand in mine. “Can you heal him?”

“No.”

I jerked my gaze toward him, confused, desperate. “But—”

“But I can place him in a type of coma.”

I didn’t know what the hell he was talking about, but I’d
take it. “How will it help?”

Jotham settled in the only chair. “He will remain suspended
between life and death, and hopefully he will heal while he’s under.”

I nodded. Okay, a plan, we had a plan. I could survive with
a plan. “And when will he wake up?”

“Tomorrow. A month from now.” He paused for a long, terrible
moment. “Never. I don’t know.”

The hot sting of tears burned my eyes. I couldn’t stop them
from coming, and one by one they trailed down my cheeks, dripping softly to the
duvet. “Never?”

“It depends upon how much magic he has left. If his body can
heal or not.”

We sat in silence, both of us watching Owen…waiting, as if
we expected him to wake up at any moment. He looked so peaceful, so strong, so
normal. But he was merely frozen between death and life, and it was my fault. I
knew it. Jotham knew it. My fault. Why hadn’t I been more vigilant? Matchmakers
were expendable; Protectors weren’t. Yet, here I was.

I wasn’t sure how much time passed, it could have been mere
minutes or hours when Jotham finally stood. “I must go.” He rested his hand
atop my head, his mournful gaze upon Owen. “They will be looking for me.”

I’d be alone with Owen. I didn’t know what to do with him,
how to help. I tightened my hold on Owen’s hand, resisting the urge to beg the old
man to stay. “Will they come for us?”

“I will not tell them what happened, and because of the
spell they shouldn’t be able to find you.”

At least for now. I glanced back at Owen. I knew we couldn’t
hide here forever. But I also knew that he would wake up; I had to believe
that. Owen was strong, stronger than anyone I knew. He would survive, and so we
would wait here until he came back to me.

“I have called for Sebastian.” Jotham moved toward the door.
“He should be arriving soon. If you need anything, he will help you.”

Before I had time to thank him, Jotham was gone.

Alone, I was alone with Owen and I had no idea what to do. I
trailed my fingers down the hard planes of his face. So beautiful, so strong.
Careful, I climbed onto the bed, lying beside him. The sun moved slowly across
the sky, the hours passing, and still I didn’t move.

How many times had he saved me? Too many to count. I rested
my hand on his heart, the beat slow but steady, thank God.

It was time I saved him. And I would. Somehow, someway, I
would figure out how to bring Owen back from the dead.

 
 
Epilogue

Two Months Later

Emma

I snapped the last rose of the season from its thorny branch
and brought it close, breathing in deeply the sweet scent. It calmed me, like
this garden always did. Blue skies, crisp morning air, perfect French cottage,
all within a bubble of safety. Here, I didn’t have to worry. Here, the world
stood still.

“Overheard the baker in town saying fall would be here early
this year,” Lizzie said, seated at the small iron table near the fading
climbing roses. Her books were open and spread before her, although I had a
feeling she wasn’t really studying. She’d started homeschooling since moving to
France. Only another year and she’d be done. And then maybe we could all go
somewhere new. Leave our bubble.

“How’s your French coming?”


Très bon
!”

I couldn’t help but smile. Lizzie always made me feel
better, and I was so thankful she was here. I glanced around the garden. My
aunt had obviously liked flowers, and being here made me understand her in some
way. At the same time I felt sort of sorry for her…being trapped.

“Mom called last night,” Lizzie said. “Was asking after you.
She’s got a new boyfriend.”

I tuned her out, having no interest in Mom’s newest man. In
truth, the safety was a facade. After all, we couldn’t stay here forever. I
couldn’t help but feel like something was going to happen the moment we stepped
outside the boundaries of the spell. As terrifying as the thought of leaving
had become, there was still a part of me that hungered to escape.

Lizzie started humming some pop song she’d heard in the
nearest village. We didn’t have a television or even a radio, as they interfered
with the spell around the place. But Lizzie left at times, heading into town
with Seb as escort, even to Paris twice. Although I didn’t dare leave, I
couldn’t expect her to stay in this prison with me.

“You’re okay here…right, Liz?”

“Yeah! Are you kidding?” She grinned. “It’s awesome.”

I sighed, knowing that Lizzie wouldn’t complain, even under
torture. She took the idea of staying positive to a whole new level. “Okay.” If
she was happy, I’d take her word for it. I started toward the door, twirling the
rose between my fingers.

“Em?”

I paused on the threshold and glanced back. “Yeah?”

“I like being at the cottage…seriously. But…” She took her
lower lip between her teeth, a sure indication she was worried about something.
“How long do you plan on staying here?”

I knew what she meant. How long before I gave up hope. “As
long as it takes.”

She nodded slowly and gave me a tight smile. She thought I
was insane. But that was okay. Heck, maybe I was. I stepped into the cottage,
the scent of freshly baked apple pie surrounding me like a warm sweater. Since
moving in, Lizzie had decided to become a chef. Fine with me, if it meant I
didn’t have to cook.

I’d grown comfortable here, comfortable with the French
country shabby chic decor, comfortable with the scent of flowers that wafted
into the cottage through the open windows, the chirp of birds that woke me
every morning. Yes, I’d grown comfortable, but I knew that becoming content was
dangerous. It wouldn’t last.

I moved through the living room and into the bedroom.

“Morning, Owen.” I placed the rose in a vase on the bedside
table. “It’s nice outside.” A soft breeze swept in through the open windows and
fluttered the white curtains. “You smell that? Almost autumn.”

I moved around the bed and pulled the curtains wider,
allowing the sun to enter the room. For a brief moment while looking out onto
the rolling green hills that surrounded the cottage, I could pretend. But then
I turned to face Owen, and all pretense was gone. He looked so perfect. Too
perfect, and that was the problem. He hadn’t lost weight; he hadn’t lost
muscle. No, he just lay there like he was sleeping…frozen in time. I swallowed
the thick lump of emotion that clogged my throat. It was still hard to look at
him…even months later.

I felt a shimmer of awareness right before Seb appeared.
He’d been here so often that I knew his energy now. I’d actually grown to rely
on his bringing information from the outside world, and keeping us informed on
the Consulate. It was a relief knowing we had someone to rely on. And I thanked
God that my aunt had allowed a few trusted people through the fairy spell.


Bonjour, ma chérie
.”
He leaned over and kissed my cheek. “Anything?”

Seb appeared every day, and every day it was the same
question. I shook my head. “Nothing.”

And every day he had the same response. “Soon. I can feel
it.”

I smiled tightly and nodded. But every day it was becoming
more difficult to agree. I reached out, brushing a lock of hair from Owen’s
forehead. The soft hum of Lizzie singing swept in through the open windows.
Seb’s gaze went to the garden; he was drawn to her sweet voice.

I smiled. Seb was like every other guy and couldn’t resist
my sister. “You know she turns seventeen in a month.”

He frowned. “Yes, I’m aware.”

I reached for the blanket at the end of Owen’s bed and
pulled the cover over his legs. The air had a bite to it. I wasn’t sure if he
could get sick, but I wasn’t taking any chances. “It’s just that you said she
was too young for you.”

“And she still is.”

I slid him a glance. “Seb, you’re nineteen. There’s only two
years’ difference.”

“I’ll be twenty soon. She’s too young. We have nothing in
common.”

Yet, he kept looking at her. I shook my head, my amusement
giving way to annoyance. What I wouldn’t give to have Owen truly here. Yet,
these two were obviously attracted and denying it like crazy. Stupid people and
their stupid love problems. Why did they have to make everything so
complicated?

My gaze went back to Owen. Why had I made everything so
complicated? Why hadn’t I accepted my feelings for him at the beginning? So
many silly games. I sank into the overstuffed chair near the fireplace and drew
my knees to my chest, my gaze on him. “Have they given up on finding me?”

“No.” Seb sighed as he strolled to the windows. “They know you’re
here somewhere, and one of the vampires leaked word that you’re not with them.
When you turned eighteen last week, your powers went public, so to speak.”

“So now any supernatural being can find me and they know I’m
on my own.”

“You’re not alone. I’m here.”

But we both knew that Seb could only do so much. He might be
able to protect me from demons, but he couldn’t protect me from the Consulate.
They would find me soon and Owen was in no shape to help. Could I protect him?
“And Owen…do they know about him?”

“No. They think he bailed out. They obviously didn’t know
him well.” We were silent for a few moments. I could feel Seb watching me and
wondered what he was thinking. I didn’t have to wonder long. “I won’t leave
you. I’m here to fight till the end.”

The end. That sounded rather ominous. I gave him a quick
nod, the most I could handle. As much as I appreciated his help, I didn’t want
Seb by my side. I wanted Owen.

Seb pushed away from the wall and started toward the door.
“I’m going to check the perimeter.”

In other words, he was going to check on Lizzie. I smiled as
he disappeared, leaving me alone with Owen. I had wondered more than once if
Lizzie and Seb were soul mates, but I hadn’t had any visions, which made me
think that maybe they didn’t belong together, or they just weren’t ready.
Either way, I didn’t push it. We had enough to worry about at the moment.

Untucking my legs, I stood and moved toward the bed. “Open
your eyes, Owen.” I climbed onto the mattress and curled up next to him. It was
a ritual I repeated at least ten times a day.

“Please.” I rested my hand on his chest. His heartbeat,
although slow, was reassuring. “I’m sorry…sorry for how stupid I acted. Sorry
that I constantly denied my feelings. I swear, if you just open your eyes, I’ll
admit everything.”

He didn’t even flinch.

Exhausted, I lay my head on his shoulder and lowered my
lashes. “Come on, Owen. Come on.”

Vaguely I was aware of Lizzie and Seb in the garden talking,
their voices full of pain and emotion that drifted through the open windows.
They were still denying their attraction, neither learning from my mistake.

“Stupid,” I muttered, half-asleep.

“What’s stupid?”

My eyes opened and for a long moment, I merely lay there, my
heart slamming wildly in my chest. I had imagined the question, his raspy
voice. It couldn’t be Owen. I shoved my hands into the bed and jerked upright.
Owen’s green eyes met mine. Hazy, yes, but open. Awake.

“Owen?” My voice caught, tears burning. “My God, are you
really awake?”

He blinked, confused. “Emma?”

He remembered me.
Thank
you, God, he remembers!
I cupped the sides of his face and smashed my lips
to his. It was a quick kiss, and I had to force myself not to kiss him again
and again. “Yeah.” I laughed like a manic clown. “It’s me.”

He was warm under my touch, when he’d been so cold before.
Frantic to understand, I slid my hands over his chest. It wasn’t my
imagination, his heart was beating stronger, faster. The joy I felt overwhelmed
me, sending my pulse beating so hard that I felt almost dizzy.

“Where are we?” he asked.

Although I didn’t want to, I pulled back enough to allow him
room to breathe. I was shaking, I couldn’t stop shaking. I tucked my hands into
my jeans pockets, afraid he’d notice my unease and I’d freak him out. “My
aunt’s cottage.”

He gritted his teeth and tried to move. His body might look
normal, but the two-month coma had made him weak.

Worried, I slid my arm around his waist, helping him sit up.
“You’re all right?”

“I…I think so.”

My muscles were tense, my brain jumbled. I wanted to tell
him so much, tell him everything, but I knew he needed time to adjust. I jumped
from the bed and grabbed a pitcher of water, pouring him a glass.

“Seb! Seb, hurry!” With water glass in hand, I managed to
settle back on the bed and help him sip the cool liquid.

He drank slowly, showing no signs of dehydration. “Seb’s
here? What’s happened?”

“You don’t remember?”

He rubbed his face, as if trying to rub away two months’
worth of slumber. “Barely. Vampires. I was fighting vampires.”

I set the glass down and pulled his arms away, needing to
see his face. My chest felt tight and those freaking tears were stinging my
eyes once more. “Damn you, Owen, you almost died saving me.”

His gaze met mine and I felt it all the way to my toes, a
heated warmth that swept through me, making my heart stammer. I’d known he
would wake, I had, but there were times in the dark of night when I worried.

“Did I save you?” he asked softly. He said it in a way that
told me he knew…he remembered.

“Why?” I whispered.

He clenched his jaw, those eyes brilliant, alive and well.
He was there, truly there. The Owen I knew, the Owen I cared for. I’d never
believed in miracles before, but I did now. “You know why.”

Before I could demand he answer, Seb suddenly appeared. “
Merde
!” He stumbled toward the bed, his
shock almost amusing. “Are you really awake? Truly?”

Owen grinned, but he gave his friend only a quick glance,
remaining focused on me. “Yes, and I’m starving.”

“I’ll get you something to eat.” I slid from the bed and
started for the door. I needed to do something, anything. But the moment I
stepped foot into the hallway, I found my legs went out. The emotions and
adrenaline made me weak and I slumped against the wall, stifling my cries. He
was awake. He was well. Owen was alive.

“Thank you,” I whispered to no one, to everyone. “Thank
you.”

“Petunia…” Owen’s voice drifted from the room.

“I know,” Seb said. “She was guilty. But she’s disappeared.
There should be no more trouble from her.”
 

“That would be great, if she was the only one involved.”

I sucked in a sharp breath of surprise.

“What do you mean?”

“Think about it, Seb. Pet isn’t smart enough to plan all of
this. And as bloody mad as she is, she wouldn’t have killed Clarice. She
actually liked the old woman.”

“Okay, we’ll figure things out. Once you’re rested, we’ll
head back to the Consulate.”

“That might be a problem.”

“What do you mean?” Seb asked warily.

Slowly, I straightened away from the wall, swiping at my
damp cheeks. Something was wrong, so very wrong, I could tell by the tone of
Owen’s voice. I should have known.

“My powers,” Owen said. “They’re gone.”

********

Owen

My body felt heavy, strange, as if my mind wasn’t quite
connected yet. I shifted, stepping closer to the window and savoring the cool
breeze that drifted inside. As confused as I’d been, I’d still known the moment
I woke that my powers were gone. Completely, or just buried? I wasn’t sure.

Emma rushed into the room carrying a tray, Lizzie was fast
behind her. I forced myself to smile, feigning an ease I sure as hell didn’t
feel. I hadn’t even sensed her approach, like I would have before.

Emma smiled hesitantly back. Although it seemed as if no
time had passed, she appeared different. But the time had affected her.
Thinner, tired, worried. I’d done that to her, I realized. But I couldn’t feel
guilty…no, because I had saved her life. And I’d do it all again.

Two months, Seb had said. I’d been out for two months. How
could two months go by without my even knowing? My body felt stiff, but other
than that it felt as if I’d merely gone to sleep. I moved slowly back to the
windows. My mind might not want me to believe two months had gone by, but my
body knew.

Go, Protector. Take
your Matchmaker. I have a feeling she’s useless to us anyway.

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