Facing the future without a purpose would be the nail in her coffin. That conviction was the only reason Mary rose to her feet and lifted her chin, allowing two maids to bustle into the room and strip off her T-shirt, her last remaining connection to Tucker.
She closed her eyes as the dress was draped, fitted and cinched around her. Once some sense had been made of Mary’s hair, she was led out of the room for the first time in four days. Tilda, Mary and the two maids walked down a long hallway that led to a staircase. As they descended, Mary’s eyes were drawn below to the hall where Hadrian waited.
He looked like a prince from a dark fairy tale, dressed in elegant black and standing in front of the stained-glass window, moonlight streaming in to rest on his shoulders.
She knew better. He was no prince.
A minister waited in front of a throne, golden and ornate, lined with blue velvet. Only one throne. No accompanying seat for a queen. On one side of the room, vampires congregated, looking wary and judgmental. On the other was a contingent of fae, wreathed in light, some of their faces straight from her past. They also appeared wary, mostly of her future husband.
“We won’t be here long,” Tilda whispered, rubbing her arm. “You’ll see. Once the alliance is sealed and the Assembly is summoned, they will return to find us risen from the ashes. They will see we were not weaklings to be abandoned. That we have been strategic and smart. We’ve survived. We will convince the Assembly to help Hadrian secure the vampire throne from the new king. To honor the alliance. Then we will be taken home by your father.”
Numb head to toe, Mary stopped at the bottom of the staircase and looked at Tilda. “I know what love feels like now. If my father left us because of my blindness, there is no honor in him. And he never loved us at all.”
Tilda was leading Mary to the altar where a monster waited to wed her, but she couldn’t stem the tide of sympathy for Tilda when she shook her head. “He had no choice. These last thirteen years, he has been making a home for us in paradise. It is hard for someone so young to understand.”
Mary was out of words.
A sea of vampires in red cloaks parted, allowing her to pass.
An odd tingle broke through her numbness when she’d almost reached Hadrian, but she disregarded it as fear and kept walking until she faced the leader of the dark uprising. It took her a moment of gathering courage to look up into his face. When she did, there was nothing but ambition and hate and greed. He’d surrounded himself by beings of the same respect. Beings who thought compassion was a weakness. Including her mother. And having experienced selfless love, Mary pitied them.
It was in that moment that she was able to forgive Tucker for leaving her.
Unlike her father, he’d truly done it out of love. Not ambition or a thirst for power.
He’d made the ultimate sacrifice to give Mary what he believed would make her happy. She doubted anyone in this hall had experienced that same level of generosity or they would be fighting for the other side.
Hadrian nodded at the minister and took her hand, sending a frigid shiver up her arm.
“Begin,” Hadrian ordered, squeezing Mary’s hand until she winced.
The minister nodded and stepped closer, opening his mouth to start the ceremony—
The floor started to shake beneath her feet.
In Mary’s periphery, one of the vampires pushed off his red hood, his gaze golden, hypnotic and livid. Focused on Hadrian.
There was no reason the vampire should be familiar to her. She’d only been able to see for a matter of days. But it was as though she’d met him hundreds, thousands of times, across different planes of existence and multiple universes. Her heart knew his.
The vampire was Tucker.
Her entire being was positive and it rejoiced, tears rushing to her eyes.
Lord, he was the most beautiful being she could imagine. Robust and rugged and hiding nothing, his face as expressive as his heart.
With her breath arrested in her lungs, however, she watched him change. Gaped as a low glow pulsed beneath his skin and a deep crimson radiance slowly rose above the crown of his head, rubbing and flickering like fingers on a harp.
Gasps carried toward the ceiling. Shocked whispers.
Hadrian turned his head and picked Tucker out among the crowd, the only vampire with his hood off. But…not only a vampire. Was it possible that he was fae?
When they were in the basement of Carl’s home talking about the box of collected notes from Tucker’s mother, Mary had been slightly alarmed to find out when exactly Farah had disappeared. An Exodus year. Furthermore, Tucker’s mother must have known she’d be leaving. It was right there in her preparations. Mary had convinced herself that the coinciding of an Exodus with Farah’s disappearance had to be a coincidence. Had to be. Right?
Mary’s thoughts were disrupted when Tucker’s eyes ticked to hers and grew heavy with emotion. I’m seeing you. I’m seeing you and you’re everything I could ever want. She wanted to shout the words at the top of her lungs, but there was danger in his presence and it struck fear deep in her breast. Why was he here? Was he going to put a stop to the wedding?
Hope rocketed through her blood. Please. Take me away from here.
Please don’t die trying.
Tucker’s attention traveled down to her hand where Hadrian held it in a crushing grip. A grip she’d failed to notice once Tucker arrived, but now the pain made it impossible to ignore. She tried to tear her hand away, but he wouldn’t let go and she cried out.
A violent wind blasted through the hall of the manor, ripping off cloaks and knocking paintings off walls. The flames on every candle went out, casting the hall in dimness, moonlight flooding in through the stained glass overhead, but as she watched, a crack spread through it and shattered it into a thousand pieces, the sound shrill and tinny. Just like at the diner.
Tucker was doing this.
Finally, Hadrian let go of her hand in favor of closing his grip around the amulet, laughing as he turned to face Tucker.
Overhead, a chandelier broke from the ceiling and swung sideways, crashing into the wall. The hall parted and scattered around them, immortals and fae alike cowering against the stone, distressed by the display of power. Confused about exactly where it was coming from.
“Ahhh, the boyfriend.” Hadrian rubbed his palm on the stone around his neck and it seemed to respond with echoing voices weaving in and out of each other. The way Hadrian touched the amulet was adoring, but more than that, it was subtly desperate. As if he was hurriedly gathering strength from the piece by touching it.
Mary narrowed her eyes at the action.
And then she slowly swept the immediate area for a weapon.
“You will pay dearly for this interruption,” Hadrian said, finally dropping his hand from the amulet and advancing on Tucker. His hands dissipated into a vaporous blue smolder and he threw the flames full force at Tucker. Mary prepared to scream, but Tucker was gone. He was nowhere near the spot that was now nothing more than a smoking crater.
When her eyes found Tucker again, he was rushing Hadrian at an unfathomable speed. His feet weren’t even touching the ground and he seemed to carry the force of the universe with him. The air thickened and moved with her vampire, dragging every source of energy in its path and detonating squarely in front of Hadrian, sending him flying backwards into the wall.
Her would-be husband reached out for her ankle, clawing the skin and attempting to drag her closer. To use her for a shield? Yes, his confidence was visibly waning.
Mary hastened away and watched over her shoulder as the wall of the manor crumbled down on Hadrian, wind pouring in and turning the great hall into a riotous gale. Hadrian pushed out of the rubble, his face a mask of hatred, eyes promising retribution.
The stone floor separated and pushed up jagged.
More of the windows turned to shards, raining down on the great hall.
Hadrian extended a hand to the right and a blade appeared, a
s if summoned, and he hurled it end over end at Tucker. It caught her vampire in the shoulder, burying deep, and he gritted his teeth, stumbling back. “No!” Mary shouted, his pain undoing her.
But her shout, it seemed to trigger something in Tucker and he ripped out the embedded blade, storming forward, visibly fighting through a force field that continually shoved him back, like two-hundred-mile-an-hour winds, until finally he reached Hadrian and they fought with fists.
Their blows were not that of ordinary men, though. They packed far more power, more force and they were delivered much faster. Hadrian was landing more punches and with one near-knockout, he stepped back and started to chant low under his breath, smoke and light gathering in the palms of his hands. Tucker staggered in front of him, his radiance waning.
If Hadrian launched a final attack, Tucker would fall.
He’d be defeated—and she couldn’t let that happen.
Mary picked up a tall candle stand, raised it over her head and lunged, intending to bring the heavy object down over Hadrian’s head, but he turned at the last moment and reared back. She braced for the pain, but it never came.
One moment, Hadrian was the picture of hatred, teeming with power, and the next, he was pale and bug-eyed, his hand grasping at his chest.
The amulet that was no longer there.
Tucker stood behind Hadrian holding it in his fist.
Mary could only reel in horror as Tucker’s hair turned gray, his legs collapsing beneath him.
The amulet.
The amulet.
It was sucking the strength from Tucker’s body. Was it cursed?
She’d suspected it gave Hadrian strength. Did it steal the same from others?
“Oh God. No.” Mary tripped toward Tucker, her insides being razed by sheer terror. By the time she got closer, his eyes had sunken in slightly, his beautiful beloved face leaching of color. Mary dropped into a kneel in front of him, afraid to touch and hasten his decline. Jesus, he was dying! He was here, but he was dying! Tears sprang forth from her eyes and she fell against him, holding on, as if she could keep him from expiring. “No. No. No.”
The sound of a battle reached her ears from outside the hall, dark versus light, but she was only partially aware of it. How could she think of anything else when the vampire she loved was withering and dying in front of her and she could do nothing to stop it? Her heart was being crushed inside her chest, her lungs were shrinking by the second.
Yells and screeches bounced off the walls of the hall and vaguely she registered that another side was present. Vampires…and humans? Fighting the red-cloaked vampires, whom Tucker had been hiding among. In yet another noble act, he’d disabled Hadrian. She only scanned the melee long enough to recognize the vampire king, Jonas, fighting alongside Roksana and Elias. It seemed like years since they’d all sat in her mother’s office together. Had any of them known it would come to this? That they would lose the best person among them?
Still holding the amulet in a white-knuckled grip, Tucker made a terrible wheezing noise and Mary stroked his face, watched the light go out of his eyes. No, no, no. Please, no. Agony branded her insides. Any moment now, he would be gone. Out of her reach forever.
Unless…
Unless the power of the amulet could be withstood by two beings.
Without giving it another thought, Mary clapped her hand down on the amulet, working her fingers as much as possible beneath Tucker’s, though he used what remained of his strength to try and wrest it away.
“No,” Tucker ground out.
Mary wasn’t budging, though. She wouldn’t let him die if there was a chance she could stop it—
Pain blared through her, sucking out her remaining breath.
Her bones rattled and snapped, ripping a scream from her very depths.
And Hadrian being incapacitated must have rendered the brand on her throat useless, because the scream she set loose was loud enough to bring down another one of the manor’s walls, collapsing part of the ceiling. It was enough to drop soldiers writhing to the ground, useless hands clapped over their ears, debris falling down on top of them.
As she stared at her near-lifeless beloved, every ounce of her misery and denial went into the piercing bellow, growing louder with each break of her bones, her skin thinning to paper, her hair turning the color of snow.
But her plan hadn’t worked.
Maybe she’d been too late to act.
Because Tucker now stared unseeing at the ceiling, his face a mask of death.
Grief stabbed her in the gut, turning her limp and she toppled sideways onto her back, her hand still joined with Tucker’s and wrapped around the amulet.
Vaguely, she saw that her scream had ripped holes in the roof of the manor. And through those openings, she watched as the sky parted with white light so intense, it hummed with shrill pulsations. Her sight started to fade, fade more, until she dropped into the darkness completely. But not before she witnessed her father drop down into the manor, surrounding by the Assembly, regal and untouchable, his face lined in otherworldly fury.
Chapter 23
Tilda rushed toward her husband with open arms, but froze mid-step when the air set like hardened clay around her and she could move no farther. Confusion and panic collided in her chest, but she couldn’t speak to question why her husband delayed their joyful reunion. She was so elated to see him again after so long, especially dressed like a royal and wielding such power, that she didn’t stop to consider the fact…that the marriage ceremony hadn’t been completed. The noble act was not yet done, but they were here now. Summoned.
And not looking the least bit happy about it.
“I left you to tend our daughter, Tilda,” boomed Anton. “And yet she lies lifeless on the ground.”
“Lifeless? I—” Tilda stepped around the wall of vampires to find Mary lying prone in her wedding gown where she’d been standing only moments before. Prior to the manor being attacked by Jonas and his army of vampires and slayers. She’d been so distracted by the interruption of the ceremony, not to mention the presence of the slayers—some of whom she used to entertain nightly at Enders—that she’d missed what caused her daughter to fall.
Lifeless, her husband had said.
That couldn’t be right, though. As powerful as he was, there had to be a mistake.
Tilda rushed forward now, recoiling at the sight of Mary’s haggard complexion. There was no life in her eyes, her skin hanging from bones that stuck out at odd angles.
In her hand was the amulet. Hadrian’s amulet.
Lord.
Lord, her daughter…was she dead?
Frantically, Tilda threw herself down beside Mary and felt for her pulse.
Nothing.
No, it wasn’t possible.
No, they’d been on the verge of having everything. Here they were, the three of them reunited. They could go home now. She’d been planning for this day for years. She’d thought of nothing but reaching this end. Mary…she’d wanted it, too. Yes, of course she had.
She patted her daughter’s chest, sobbing when she found it caved in. “No,” she breathed, noticing for the first time that Mary’s hand wasn’t the only one clinging to the amulet. Tilda’s hand shot out, intending to pull it away and—please God—rouse her daughter, but she knew the power it wielded. The results were on display in the most gruesome fashion imaginable. And Mary wasn’t the only victim. There was a vampire beside her, lying in the exact same position, the life drained out of him.
Though his features were distorted in death, she recognized him.
“Tucker,” she whispered, leaning away. Her first reaction was sadness. Grief on behalf of her daughter and this vampire who’d obviously loved one another. But then…anger.
Bitter outrage.
He’d ruined everything.
“Husband,” Tilda rasped, staggering to her feet and facing his dark expression. “Our daughter was supposed to be married today—in a noble act! With this union,
she will…she w-would have aligned us with the vampires seeking the throne. Our influence in the underworld has waned greatly since you left, but the alliance would have seen it restored.” The hall was ominously silent around her. “When you returned to claim us, it would be to the sound of cheers and glory. To hold a position of power here on earth once again would be—”
“What need do we have of earth and its trivialities?” snapped her husband.
Tilda started, alarm trickling into her chest. “You have come here to bring us home,” she said, gesturing to the hopeful fae crowding in behind her. “We’ve found a way to maintain power even while so few in number. In the absence of our own kind.” Her voice cracked under the strain. “There is nothing more noble than finding a way to…to keep from going extinct!”
“The only noble act that has been demonstrated today is between my daughter and this man who lies beside her. Their anguish reached through the barrier between our worlds and shook me. Yes, it was Mary’s strength of character and lioness heart that summoned me here.” Anton looked down at Hadrian where he sat slumped against the wall, curled in on himself. “Not marriage to this imposter.”
Outrage rose in her middle. “You might lead the assembly, but you cannot judge me. Not as a fae. Definitely not as a mother. You abandoned us. You have been gone her entire life.”
Behind Anton, the Assembly seethed at her insolence toward their leader, but she was beyond caring. Mary was gone, along with their chance for happiness.
To her surprise, there was sadness in Anton’s eyes when he spoke again. “On this, we can agree. My vanity would not allow me to accept that my daughter was flawed. That a life I created could be less than perfect. But I have ruled the Assembly throughout these years of our separation and witnessed greed, destruction, lust and the corrupt nature of our kind. I’ve learned to place value on far different qualities. And I can see now…” He crouched down in front of Mary, casting his glow on her corpse. “I can see now that I was the blind one. She is courageous and self-sacrificing. She has given her life on the chance she might save the one she loves.”
Today, Tomorrow and Always Page 23
