Made to Match headquarters.
Morgan La Faeii was concerned, for many a reason. Tapping case files with her pen, looking over new applicants, she paused. The door opened and her Berserker of a background henchman came waltzing in. Took him long enough to show his face after he had all but disappeared. A few quick texts did not a check in make.
“Got a special case for ya, girly,” he muttered, then just tossed a manila folder onto my desk. I watched as it glided atop the others and slid right on over to me.
“Oh?” I glanced up. My eyebrows lifted. The Ogre in the corner studying the large bookcase against the wall, waiting for me to hand him his match so he could be on his way, smirked as the little gargoyle on his shoulder, free from his pedestal stand, squawked at him for a treat. I was so distracted, taken by the sight they presented, I nearly forgot myself. I should match him. I should. I had several candidates. But… My heart pounded just thinking about it. I didn’t want to match the Ogre with just anybody, I told myself—had to keep telling myself.
He should be with me, the little voice in my head whispered, but I dispelled it. We can’t. There’s no use. My Ogre had all but given up on me and I had no one to blame but myself.
A shadow fell over me as my gaze darted away. I glanced up just in time to watch Rez lean over my desk and tap on the file he’d chucked at me. “This one’s for me,” the Berserker grumbled in that gruff way of his.
Intrigued, I picked up the file. Sitting back in my desk chair, I perused the papers haphazardly placed inside it. “We don’t normally work with blood suckers,” I reminded mildly, glancing up before reading the dossier.
“Got his match and everything. Just need you to do your thing and make it happen is all. She ain’t Human but she can’t be for this to work.” Pausing, he added, “This’ll work.”
Placing my finger on my spot between the manila folder flaps, lips pursing, I entreated softly, “Oh?”
“Yeah.” Rez nodded. “She’s got Hellish fire and heals fast. I think that’s a fair fight for a Fanger looking for a bride, don’t you?”
“I’m listening,” I said slowly. I had another new case, a Man of the Marsh. A… Greniv. I’d had my eye on matching a mythical being of the likes with a Human or dormant since I’d started this whole thing, but I could work on both cases at once. Already, I was afraid, though, I had already come across a hiccup.
“Why him? Why this exception?” I questioned.
“Vampires imprint on their mates, right? This one’s mellow. Stupid, but mellow, and he has that witch funk all over him. Fire. Some kind of Warlock once upon a pre-transition. This is what I’ve been looking for. He’s not particularly bright but that’s not an issue. He’ll learn. Once a Vamp’s claimed their bride, that’s it.” Rez took a seat. It creaked as he settled his weight. Molten orange eyes found mine, held. Steam was already starting to come off his wide shoulders. This was really important to him. “It’s the same concept with a Hound,” he explained, referring to his Berserker, Hellhound self.
“And you want me to pair this Vampire up with…” My hand lifted, waving in the air.
“With my sister,” he said suddenly.
The book Theo was holding fumbled in his hands. It thumped heavily to the floor as I sat back, spluttering. “Your sister?” I blurted, incredulous. I wasn’t aware of any sister of his with Hellish, Hellhound breeding.
“Half-sister,” he added with a cheeky grin that made me suspicious. “Does it matter?”
“A sister you aren’t on friendly terms with,” I guessed from the look on his face.
“She’s a bit of a shit starter,” he said evasively, his gaze darting elsewhere. “Hoping to calm her ass down.”
“By leg shackling her to a less than impressive Vampire desperate for a bride?” I deadpanned with a somber look. He’d sent me very brief updates about the Troll case and resulting Vamp issue—so brief I’d gotten more from the conversation I’d had with the Troll King than I had him. Did he have any clue what he was asking?
“Come on, Morgy girl.” Those Hellhound eyes widened and he gave me a pathetic look.
Theseus grunted at the nickname like he didn’t like it, an action that had my heart trilling before I could tell it to heel.
“I can pay,” Rez offered. He was truly desperate if he thought throwing money at me would get me to agree.
Pay? Now I knew the Berserker meant business. “You know your money isn’t good here.” Unless I was the one doling out the dough, no money exchanged hands for such things. That was how it worked around here.
“I’ll run point on it.” He was starting to look hopeful and I was starting to cave. It would make sense, if she was giving in to her Hell ridden side. A fire resistant Vamp might be just the thing his supposed sibling needed.
“You’ll run all of it,” I quipped.
Rez perked up. The large male sat straight and leaned forward. “Does that mean you’ll do it?”
“Why are you so eager to see this person shunted off to be a blood sucker’s bride?” I queried, because really.
Glancing in the Ogre’s direction to then slide his gaze back to mine, his wide shoulders lifted in a nonchalant shrug. “I have my reasons.”
“And those reasons would be?” I pressed.
