Today, Tomorrow and Always

by Bailey, Tessa

  “Redheads don’t tan. They fry. At least that’s what I’ve been told.” Mary was still watching him oddly, a line between her brows. “I’m not interested in a tan, but…”

  “But?”

  Her palms chafed on the material of her skirt and the thighs beneath, drawing his rapt attention. What his hands and mouth wouldn’t give to take over that task. “Well, I-I have a list compiled of things I’ve always wanted to do. Maybe we could knock one or two of them off while I have so much freedom?” She swallowed. “I don’t know what exactly is waiting for me in Ohio, but I doubt I’ll ever have the ability to do whatever I want. It’s too risky.”

  The chance to give her something, anything, made him sit up straighter. “What’s on this list?”

  She chewed on her bottom lip a moment. Leaning back in the seat and lifting her hips, she dug around in her pocket and Tucker couldn’t stop himself. Couldn’t keep his gaze from tracking down the curve of her butt as it lifted off the seat. Christ. She definitely wasn’t as young as he’d originally thought. Nope. Not at all. As soon as she’d landed in his arms, he’d had to amend his earlier impression that she was too young for him to be lusting after, because it wasn’t true. Mary was a young woman with breasts, hips and a scent that rattled and soothed him at the same time. And he’d already failed in his mission not to notice. Failed with flying colors.

  Tucker floored it onto the parkway, only glancing to his right again once he’d gotten his thirst under control and Mary had unfolded the list, tracing her fingertips over an endless sea of braille.

  “Hot damn, kid,” he laughed when he saw it. “How many items are on that thing?”

  “One hundred and seventy-three.”

  “Read some of them to me. I’ll try and figure out if they’re doable.”

  “You’re not going to laugh, are you?”

  “I laugh at just about everything. But it’s with appreciation, not ridicule.”

  She processed that and nodded, shifting to get more comfortable in her seat. “Okay, then. I would like to go trick-or-treating. Just once. I’ve never done it.”

  His heart might have been a dead lump, but somehow it still managed to flip-flop in his chest. “That’s a shame, Mary.”

  She shrugged a shoulder. “The fae children I grew up with learned how to control their radiance, hide their abilities. But I could never manage to keep mine subdued. As soon as I get anxious or frustrated…” She pointed to the crown of her head, conjuring a flurry of blue glimmers that gave the interior of the car an azure glow. “We’ve worked on controlling it for a long time, Mother and I, but no amount of training seems to work.”

  “What about a hat?”

  Mary giggled. “A hat doesn’t stop it. Plus, my skin glows, if you haven’t noticed.”

  “I’ve noticed.”

  The gravelly quality in his voice caused her to cock her head curiously.

  “We’ll go trick-or-treating,” he said quickly, trying to hide his embarrassment. “I’ll figure out a way.”

  “Really?”

  “Sure.” The breathless excitement in her voice hit him like a drug. So potent he had to distract himself by adjusting the air vent, a tremor coursing through his fingers. “Halloween isn’t for another month, but those are just the finer details. Hell, you’ve got a built-in costume, don’t you? No one is going to question your radiance. They’ll just wonder how much you paid for it.” He switched lanes. “What else is on the list?”

  “Getting my ears pierced.”

  An icicle raked up his spine. “That’s not going to make you cry, is it?”

  “I don’t know. I’ve never done it.” She smoothed out the wrinkles from her list. “It’s okay to cry, though. I do it all the time.”

  “All the time?”

  “Yes.” She chewed her lip. “The fae have a lot of different abilities, but some are stronger in others. I can read someone’s mood. If their emotions are strong enough, I can even feel them myself. As if they’re my own. It’s like a sixth sense. Or in my case, a fifth.” Her fingers met and folded in her lap. “Living above Enders, I pick up on a lot of regret and failure, because you vampires refuse to die when the slayers wish it.”

  “Sorry about that,” he drawled, shooting her a wink.

  “Yes, you’re steeped in regret,” she said, her mouth tugging at one end. “Anyway. Hence all the crying I do. I’ve been sort of living vicariously through others. Now…when there is attraction between two humans, that can get very interesting. Immortals are much harder to read. I have to reach out. Dig into them.” She suddenly looked nervous. “Do you already regret agreeing to drive me because I might scream or cry from time to time?”

  “Of course not. It’s just that…” He stopped to clear his throat, his hand gesturing in a kind of wild motion. “My friends are stone cold warriors, but when their wives cry, it’s like they can’t even think straight.” Jesus Christ, he’d just compared Mary to a wife. “That’s not to say you’re, ahh…that we could be married. That’s not what I meant. I’m just saying that a strange chemical seems to be released in a dude’s brain when a girl cries and I’ve already got enough happening upstairs to add whatever it is to the equation.”

  She sniffled, wiped at her nose. “So I c-can’t get my ears pierced?”

  Immediately, his insides became a crime scene. “You can. Of course you can.”

  “Did the chemical release?” she asked excitedly, turning in her seat.

  Anxiously, he scanned her, head to toe. “You’re not really crying?”

  Mary managed to appear contrite even while laughing. “No.”

  “Lord, you women.” He shook his head. “Weapons of mass confusion.”

  She seemed to be enjoying herself immensely. Probably because she didn’t get out much, not because he was dazzling her out of her wits. “Did all your knowledge of women come from the wives of your friends?”

  There was a huge part of Tucker that wanted to lie. To tell her he’d dated scores of females on seven continents and lived to tell the tales, like some jacked-up vampire James Bond. “Yeah. For the most part,” he admitted, instead. Lying to Mary would feel sacrilegious. Like a breach of trust. “My options are slim, unless you include hooking up…and that’s, uh…not really my thing. Human women are supposed to be off limits, although that rule has been soundly ignored by those same chemically-impaired friends I mentioned earlier. It’s more of a light suggestion at this point. And female vampires…well, we aren’t exactly holding co-ed dances, you know? Plus, if a female vampire isn’t your mate, you best get to stepping or else when she finds him, you’re going to have an enemy on your hands. There are places where unattached vampires can meet, but old Tucker doesn’t want to be treated like a piece of meat.” He laughed too loudly. You’re not even convincing yourself. “Anyway. Dating in the underworld is a complicated business.”

  “It sounds like it,” she breathed. “I’m glad I get to skip it and go straight to marriage.”

  “Yeah, that’s so great,” he deadpanned, wishing for a stake to bury right in the center of his ribcage. “All right, so we’ve got ear piercing and trick-or-treating.” The items on her list were such simple things. No one could have helped her achieve them? Really? “Those should be easy enough,” he said, forcing the irritation from his voice. “How old are you, Mary?”

  “Nineteen.”

  “Total? Or you stopped aging at nineteen?”

  “Total.”

  Jesus. Nineteen.

  Tucker didn’t know a lot about the fae, but he knew they were immortals who matured to varying points in their life. Mary was legitimately nineteen, though. Too young to be sacrificed to a vampire with dark intentions. Too young to be a tool used in a war.

  He wanted to go back to the meeting with Tilda and rail at the unfairness of what she was putting her daughter through. Beg the fae to change her mind. How was he going to ferry Mary somewhere potentially unsafe, turn around and leave? Already it was a feat beyond w
ords not to reach across the console and hold her hand. Was the magnetic pull all in his mind? Was his protectiveness pathetic considering she was betrothed? Already he was devoted to her happiness in ways that only a husband should be—and considering he had no choice but to leave her with Hadrian, that could prove detrimental to his sanity.

  “Is it true that you work for the new vampire king, Tucker?”

  “The one Hadrian wants to overthrow? Yes. I do.”

  She wrung her hands. “Are you going to get in trouble for transporting me to Hadrian?”

  “You mean because you’re the linchpin in the alliance that could end with us being defeated?” God. She didn’t deserve the shortness in his voice. How could he fault this girl for wanting sight? For wanting to right the perceived wrong she’d done to her mother? “Just leave the worrying to me, Mary,” he added, evenly. “Sit back and enjoy the ride.”

  While he’d try not to think of how it would end.

  Chapter 5

  Mary counted her breaths and waited for Tucker to return to the car.

  As they’d been wont to do for the last hour, she reached up and traced the bottom edge of her crown. After their conversation about Mary not being able to subdue her radiance like a normal fae, Tucker had pulled off the highway without warning and gone into a store. It’s a surprise. That was the only explanation he’d offered—and it had turned out to be an understatement.

  She was now the proud owner of a child’s light-up crown.

  It was electronic and lit up when turned on, projecting—according to Tucker—a glowing carousel of light above her head, thus camouflaging her own luminous pin pricks.

  A peculiar clench in Mary’s chest caused her to drop her hand once more.

  Of course, according to Tilda, her skin still had a slight glow, but it wasn’t as noticeable as the shimmer over her head. Did this mean, she could go places now? The threat of her scream would never go away, but…shouldn’t Tilda or even herself thought of this before?

  Was it the shame of Mary’s impairment that kept them indoors instead?

  How could it be anything else when this man she’d known less than one night already had a semi-practical solution?

  Mary set aside her thoughts and reached out for Tucker’s signature, hoping for the calm he’d given her earlier. The kind he seemed to give just by being close. She didn’t have a lot of practice reading immortals and never a vampire, so it took an effort, but she found his watchful, reassuring presence…although there was a definite layer of tension now. A kind she didn’t fully recognize, but reminded her of the stairwell. Smoky and eager and hot. The way she’d felt when his breath ghosted over her ear, his big hand tracing her hip. When she’d wanted to wrap her legs around his waist. Was Tucker thinking of the stairwell now?

  Realizing she was starting to breathe faster, Mary stopped reaching for Tucker’s signature and retreated back into herself. The sun was about to rise and they’d stopped at a roadside motel. Before Tucker climbed out of the car, he’d reassured her she would be in view of registration. That promise allowed her to lean back in the seat now, relax her bunched muscles. So much for being brave and independent. Vulnerability had crept in the second Tucker left the car. These surroundings were strange. If she exited the vehicle, she wouldn’t know where anything was. How to navigate.

  Deep breath in, deep breath out.

  As a child, she’d run through fields without anything or anyone to guide her, relying on her elevated senses to alert her if something was wrong. If an impediment stood in her way. If she fell, she fell. No one was stopping her from getting back up. After being indoors so long, that bravery had been replaced by wariness. Staying inside was for her own good. The good of others. She’d had those words repeated to her often and usually blew them off, not willing to give them credence. But they must have sunk in, despite her best efforts.

  Sitting in the car in a strange place had her close to shaking.

  She curled a hand around her armrest, remembered the weight of her suitcase in her hand. The suitcase she’d packed herself. She wasn’t reliant on other people for everything. One day she wouldn’t rely on anyone but herself. For now, though…

  For now, she could only acknowledge how little she’d been taught to do. She’d never been to a store. Never purchased clothing or made a phone call or checked into a motel.

  Now she was going to get married?

  Yes. She was.

  When in doubt, she could think back to the day the skies had opened up, ten years to the day of the previous Exodus, and fae had been plucked from the woods of their compound. The strongest, most cunning and able-bodied among them. They’d been take to the Faerie Realm in a flash of light so white and strong, even Mary had to shield her eyes. And then according to those left on the ground, the sky had sealed itself back up like a zipper.

  Taking her father along with it, where he now ruled the Assembly in the highest capacity.

  Tilda had called after him—"Anton!”—begged him to stay.

  He’d been given a choice—and he didn’t choose them.

  Didn’t choose Mary.

  That’s what his departure came down to, didn’t it? When given the option of living among the strongest or remaining among the weak, he’d chosen strength. Mary hated referring to her blindness as a handicap, but it was hard to remain positive when the world viewed it as such.

  Her father had viewed it as such. Especially when she’d been young and wild, stumbling her way through the compound, accidentally stepping in a pit of glowing coal or tripping on tree roots. Refusing to be led and constantly forgetting her guide stick. His frustration could best be described as palpable. Reading Anton’s signature in those days had led to her sapped strength and humiliation.

  But if Tilda’s prediction came true, her noble act of sacrifice would spur a return of the fae. And this time she would be ready. She would be worthy in her father’s eyes and her mother staying behind to care for her wouldn’t be for nothing.

  A door closed in the direction of the registration office and Mary sat forward, relieved to sense the vibrations of Tucker approaching. He seemed to hesitate outside the passenger door before tapping on her window. She pushed it open and extended a hand to him without thinking. Immediately, the strength of his grip, the intertwining of their fingers, sent a ripple of heat straight up to her shoulder, sensitized the flesh beneath her skirt. She tried to concentrate on keeping her breathing even, her pulse from skipping, but apparently controlling her involuntary responses to Tucker was impossible. They just…were.

  “We’ve got a room,” he said, gruffly. “I hope you don’t mind, I didn’t do separate ones. It’s not because I don’t think you’re able to stay alone, but…I guess after the shit I’ve seen, especially lately, I don’t trust that anywhere is safe.”

  “That’s fine.” She stepped closer to him. “I’m glad.”

  His gaze brushed their joined hands. “Are you okay?

  Mary nodded and, for a moment, swore she could read his mind. Knew exactly what he was thinking. “I know what I said before we left Enders. About doing things for myself. But the farther we get from home…the less assured I am in that.”

  “I’m not grading you, Mary. Be however you feel.”

  “Thanks. I’ll tell you when I get back my confidence.” She licked her dry lips. “In the meantime, if you wouldn’t mind just…telling me where everything is? So I can get my bearings?”

  “’Course I will,” he said gruffly, without the slightest hesitation. As if nothing she was saying sounded odd when it probably, almost definitely, was. Who lost confidence so easily? Who shook in the face of a motel parking lot?

  Mary dug deep for some patience with herself. All right, so she was more cautious than brave. The opposite of how she’d envisioned herself beyond the walls of Enders. Maybe she didn’t know herself as well as she’d thought? Maybe this was a chance to learn?

  “So this place is kind of a dive, kid. I’m not going to li
e. But they take cash and I want to make sure no one is tracking me. That kind of thing. And they have rooms that don’t face the east. Major plus. Redheads might fry in the sun, but vampires go poof.” A laugh caught her off guard and the nervous feeling in her stomach started to abate. “The motel is called the Travel Inn, although some of the lights in the sign are out, so it actually says ‘vel nn’ which doesn’t exactly scream quality. It’s got kind of a rectangular shape. Painted white, but looking more yellow. Three cars in the parking lot, including ours. Headlights on the highway whizzing by about a quarter mile away.” He paused. “There’s a diner next door if you’re hungry.”

  “No, I’m fine,” she whispered, lifting up his hand and cradling it against her cheek. “Thank you. Will you tell me about the room now?”

  “Yes,” he said—and his voice had changed ever so slightly. “Let me get your suitcase and we’ll head around back.”

  She waited to see if he would take his hand back from her cheek, but he didn’t. It led to him making some awkward maneuvers to open the trunk and get out her luggage, but he kept it right there and Mary’s pulse fluttered faster. Faster. His thumb traced a path on her bottom lip and she wet the pad, the movement involuntary, making Tucker hiss a sound, tracing her bottom lip again with more pressure. More. And she felt an answering pull beneath her belly button. Without reaching for his signature, she could sense him calling on his self-control and locking it down. Barely. What would happen if he—they—couldn’t lock it down at some point?

  Mary had never been with another being physically, but she understood the concept of desire well enough, her education coming mostly through books. And now, this vampire. What he stirred inside of her with almost no effort. Just being close. Pushing physical boundaries with him was as natural as breathing.

  What was it about him that made his touch, his body heat feel almost vital?