Tucker’s jaw was somewhere in the vicinity of his knees. “Vampire and slayers on the same team? Boss, I realize now that you’re royalty, you probably have access to bomb-grade weed, but you might want to lay off.”
“I’m serious. In fact…” Several seconds passed. “Some of them traveled here with me.”
Panic sliced through Tucker like a hot knife through cake. “They’re here? Now?”
“Mary is safe,” Jonas reassured him, his tone firm. “Relax.”
Sensing movement to his left, Tucker glanced over and found a rock garden hovering in the air, the stones humming loudly, as if anticipating an order. They were under his control—though there was very little control, wasn’t there? They were being compelled by his sudden fear for Mary’s safety.
And his rage.
“Three slayers tried to kill her at a roadside diner yesterday. They would have if I’d let them. Now you expect me to fight on their side?”
“They send their apologies. A deal between us wasn’t reached until an hour ago. Furthermore, it’s not as though they understand or give a shit about things like matehood.” Jonas was watching the stones with an almost curious fascination. “Believe me, I had no choice but to align with them. We need numbers for a fair fight.”
Tucker ground his molars, trying to rid himself of the memory of Mary cowering beneath the table at the diner. How could he be asked to forgive that?
Before he could launch another protest, Jonas spoke again. “Tucker, I’m not saying this because I want a rift in the alliance. I’m saying this as your friend.” He gave a tight headshake. “You can’t bring her to Hadrian. It will kill you.”
“He can give her sight,” Tucker rasped. “More than that, she believes that marrying Hadrian is the noble act of sacrifice she needs to bring back the Assembly, ruled by her father, Anton. This alliance could reunite her family. If she’s no longer blind, her mother thinks she’ll be worthy of returning to the Faerie Realm.”
“Do you believe that?”
“I think if they didn’t want her before, they can kiss my ass. But there’s no point in having a mate if she spends her life resenting me. I’d rather her be happy.”
“What about you?”
Tucker shook his head, as if the matter was inconsequential.
“He’s…powerful, Tucker. Giving Mary her eyesight is a mere party trick for this being.”
Those words rocked Tucker, unleashing the kind of misery that rampaged and rioted, tearing at his insides with razor-sharp claws. He didn’t want Mary within a mile of this motherfucker. How was he going to stomach it? How could he go on living afterward?
“Jonas…”
He hardly knew what he was asking.
Only that the favors he needed were important. The most important favors he’d ever ask of someone in his life. “If we have a chance to take out Hadrian, we don’t do it until he’s given Mary what he promised. Give me your word on that.”
Jaw tight, Jonas glanced away, but eventually gave a nod.
“How do we defeat him?” Tucker asked.
“We fight,” said the king. “Even aligned with the slayers, we risk losing because Hadrian is a wild card. He was cast out of the High Order before either of us were born and he’s never lost his resentment for authority, no matter what it stands for. Diplomacy or intimidation. If he succeeds in taking my throne, there will be anarchy in the underworld. The rules we’ve come to live by will be laughable.” Jonas was no longer hiding his worry well, the grooves deep between his brows. “Defeating him will be near impossible. He has spent the last century collecting power from the strongest beings among us.”
Tucker’s brow knit. “There’s no way to weaken him?”
“There is one way. But it’s…” Jonas slashed a hand through the air. “It’s not possible.”
“Tell me what it is,” Tucker demanded.
The king sighed. “There is an amulet around Hadrian’s neck. It is what holds his strength. It contains the power of the warlocks he’s stolen from and slaughtered throughout the years, collecting their abilities. Making them his own.”
“Without the amulet, he doesn’t have the abilities?”
“It’s not so easy. First of all, it would take an immortal stronger than Hadrian to procure it. One hardly exists. And he guards the stone as though it’s his life, because it is. However…” Jonas rubbed at his forehead. “The amulet is cursed. It weakens anyone who holds it. Anyone but Hadrian. If you or I had it in our possession, we would be dust within seconds.”
“Then I’m asking you for my second favor.”
The king’s brows went up, but the dread was already kindling in his eyes. “Tucker, no. Absolutely not.”
“I’ll get the amulet.” Tucker was already breezing past Jonas toward the garden gate that led to the front of the house. “You get me close enough to him and I’ll handle the rest.”
“Don’t you see? If we defeat Hadrian, you can have her back,” Jonas snapped behind him.
“She doesn’t want me,” Tucker growled, rounding on the king, a finger jabbing in the air. “Worst-case scenario, her plan fails and she belongs to Hadrian forever. Best case? The Assembly returns and she leaves with them, her family intact again. That’s her dream. Not me. Not some portly minion for the king. I can’t keep her if she doesn’t want to stay. And can you imagine how she’ll feel about me with fucking eyesight?” Tucker’s laughter was raw, harsh, a lot like the pain in his chest. “Mary’s marriage to Hadrian will bring back the Assembly. She will have what she needs by the time I take the amulet.”
Sympathy lived in Jonas’s expression. “Tucker…”
“Done deal, boss.” Tucker forced a smile and punched the king playfully in the shoulder. “Tell me more about our new friendship with the slayers. Because I smell a prank war.”
* * *
A while later, after saying goodbye to Jonas, Tucker re-entered the house, his chest burning with the need to see Mary. To make sure she was all right. When he entered the bedroom and found her curled on her side, sound asleep, relief and wonder rattled through him. God. God, she was so beautiful. These days and nights would be the last thing that went through his mind when he turned to dust. An event that would be happening much sooner than he imagined, but at least it would be for a worthy cause.
The safety of his friends.
The throne remaining in the hands of good, not evil.
Maybe he wasn’t so dead set against quests after all if he was invested in the outcome.
Not wanting to wake up Mary, Tucker went back out to the living room and sat down heavily on the couch, staring down at his loose hands a moment before lying down completely. If he wanted to be successful in the mission ahead, he needed sleep. It was difficult to close his eyes when the concern for Mary’s safety never ebbed, but he forced his eyelids to fall, folding his hands in a pile on the mound of his belly.
Tucker didn’t sleep deeply like other vampires. He’d never truly understood why he could nap so briefly, wake up a short time later and be refreshed. It was a trait he’d inherited from his mother Farah. Sometimes they would bake cakes in the middle of the night, they needed such a small amount of sleep. Come morning, there would be cakes of every size and description on the kitchen table. His father would emerge yawning and it would quickly transform into a laugh. Then Farah would dance through the kitchen handing out forks, seeming to almost float—or maybe that was just his embellishing childhood memory—and they would all dig in. Cake for breakfast. What happened to those happy times?
It was with that question ringing in his head that Tucker dropped into shallow unconsciousness.
Tucker walked through the quiet, unlit kitchen, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes. Flecks of neon yellow adorned every surface. Cabinets. Drawers. His mother had a habit of labeling everything. “So your father won’t forget where things are. I can’t always be around to remind him, can I?” That was her usual explanation, made while furiously scribbling ont
o Post-Its, looking around the room for more things to label.
Tucker ran a finger over the note marked Tape/Scissors/Tacks and ventured out into the field behind the house, finding Farah sprawled out on a blanket.
“Mom?”
She didn’t even jolt, simply levering up onto an elbow and smiling, a little wistfully. “Hi, Tucker. Fancy meeting you here.”
Relieved that she didn’t urge him back to bed, he crept forward barefoot and sat down beside her on the soft earth. “Why are you out here? At night?”
“Trying to think of a way to negotiate,” she murmured, falling backward onto the blanket and becoming hypnotized by the full moon above.
“What do you mean?”
“Nothing, sweetie.” She laughed, but the humor never reached her eyes. “It’s just boring old human stuff.”
Tucker stared at her profile, thinking—not for the first time—that the light on the crown of her head made her look like an angel. “I love boring old human stuff,” he said, yawning. “Why does everyone complain about it?”
“Don’t worry, I’m not complaining.” She reached over and squeezed his hand. “I’ll be as bored as long as I’m allowed.” Her eyes danced over his face. “Isn’t it ironic that, in the end, you’re the reason…” She tripped over her words and let them fade, shaking her head. “Let’s go bake Dad’s favorite, huh?”
Tucker was already on his feet. “I’m licking the spoon.”
Rising herself, Farah laid a hand on his arm. “Will you remember how to bake his favorite cake? Should I write it down?”
“Nah, I’ve got you to remind me, don’t I?”
Her smile wavered. “Y-yes. Of course.” With one last look at the sky, she chased him to the back door, their laughter winding its way toward the stars.
Tucker jerked into an upright position on the couch, the dream still vivid in his head for a few precious seconds, before it started to disintegrate. He clamped his eyes shut and tried to hold on, but it was useless and the sound of Farah’s voice was once again impossible to pull from his consciousness. He’d forgotten that night. It had melted into a collage with all of the others and painted over with a layer of white, barely able to see through.
Chapter 12
“Tucker,” called a soft, unfamiliar voice.
His warm laughter followed. He answered in an affectionate manner, but it was muffled, so Mary couldn’t make out exactly what was said. The conversation took place in dulcet tones, love between the two people not only understood, but celebrated. They were on one of side of a screen and Mary was on another, watching their outlines shift, changing shape as one. Together. Watching one shadow move toward the other. Embracing. A life being lived.
A cry of denial caught in her throat.
Mary woke with a start and sensed a presence in the bedroom.
She reached out with her mind and searched the air for Tucker’s signature, exhaling when she found it, solid and real. Watchful. Adoring. In her half-awake state, she started to reach for him. To beckon him closer. But her memory of the dream and her lingering jealousy rose like a sunrise, eclipsing her joy over being near him.
His mate.
In her dream, that’s who he’d been speaking to. An imaginary being that had felt all too real in her head. Was it absolutely crazy to be angry with Tucker over the dream?
Interesting how she cared very little if it was rational or not.
“I’ve decided we should finish the drive now.” Mary slipped out of bed and felt for her walking stick, her throat tugging when she found it propped carefully against the side table, left there no doubt by Tucker, the philandering jerk. “Take me to Hadrian.”
“What?” She heard a creak, as if he’d risen from a chair. “Mary…it’s too soon. We haven’t done even one of the things on your list yet.”
“It’s a silly list anyway.”
“No, it’s not. And…” Some papers rustled. “I spent the day mapping everywhere we need to go. A good neighborhood for trick or treating. The ear-piercing place. Which, by the way, is called Love Ur Lobes, so I can’t vouch for their professionalism. Did I wait too long to set this whole thing up? Is that’s what’s wrong?”
All at once, she felt terrible.
Tucker wasn’t off canoodling with some mystery woman—which wouldn’t be her business anyway—he’d been making them an itinerary. She almost wished he would do something to make himself seem less amazing, because ignoring her growing attachment would be so much easier. But nothing would combat her feelings except willpower.
And a rapidly narrowing timeline. It was Monday night. They only had until tomorrow, pursuant to her mother’s revised request.
“No, that sounds great.” His scent drifted closer and ridiculously, she stepped back. It wasn’t as if she’d be able to avoid it all night. They were going to be spending hours together, much of it in the enclosed space of the Impala. “Is Jonas still here?”
A glimmer of something she couldn’t quite read broke through his energy, so potent she didn’t even have to search his signature. Was it guilt? “No, he’s been gone a while.” His voice was tight. “Everything is fine. Just talking shop.”
It wasn’t fair for her to press for more details, even if she wanted to. She was helping to incite a war that would threaten Jonas’s claim to the throne. She should count herself lucky he’d done her no harm. Although, that wasn’t his modus operandi, was it? It was her future husband’s.
Mary swallowed. “Is it…nighttime?”
“Just about. I figured we could knock those items off your wish list, then keep driving. There’s no need to come back to the safe house, but depending on how long we take piercing ears and hunting for candy, we might have to pass the daylight somewhere else. And then…” He trailed off, leaving it unsaid that they would reach Hadrian by tomorrow night. “Are you sure everything is okay?”
Mary tucked a sleep-mussed strand of hair behind her ear and nodded. “Can you bring me to my suitcase—”
“It’s right here, honey.” He took her hand and laid it on the hard exterior of her luggage. “End of the bed. Do you…I can help you dress—”
“No, that’s fine,” she rushed to say when her nipples swelled. “I’ll be out soon.”
“Okay,” he said reluctantly, his voice traveling away. “Oh! We were low on options for your Halloween costume, so I cut holes in a sheet. You’re going to be a ghost. I figure it would be easy to get on and off without changing. Plus, you know, kid, you glow.”
Her heart was somewhere near the ceiling. Had she really woken up furious at this man? With the intention of ignoring him and cutting their time together short? The guilt descended all the way down to her toes. “Thank you,” she whispered. “A ghost is perfect.”
“Are you sure? It sounds like a ghost ate the last pancake once and you still haven’t forgiven him for it.”
A laugh bubbled out of her.
Turned her face in his direction.
In that moment, Mary wished she could see him so badly, a tremor wracked her.
“I dreamed you were having pillow talk with your mate,” she blurted to hide the physical reaction. “She isn’t even a real person. Yet. But I wish her to hell, all the same, and I hope she has toes growing out of her forehead, if that’s all right with you.”
She could hear paper crunching and knew he was crumpling the itinerary in his fist. Out of anger? Because she spoke ill of his future mate? She was getting ready to defend herself when Tucker spoke instead.
“Mary, how about tonight we pretend like there’s no future mate for me? And there’s no Hadrian for you. All right? There’s only each other. We’re going on a date.” He laughed under his breath. “A weird one, but a date nonetheless.”
The organ in her chest swelled until she worried her ribcage might crack. “I would love that.” But…priorities. Priorities. Tucker might be the most wonderful being to ever walk the earth, but she had to keep herself from falling for him irrevocably.
No. Stay the course.
Don’t be selfish. Don’t abandon everything you’ve dreamed about.
Everything her mother had dreamed about. They’d come too far.
“An innocent date,” Mary said, holding her breath.
“I’ll be a complete gentleman,” Tucker agreed, reaching out to chuck her chin. “So there really is a first time for everything.”
Her laugh lingered in the air as the vampire left the room, closing the door behind him.
Was she delusional expecting a platonic night with Tucker?
She’d know by sunrise.
* * *
Arriving at Love Ur Lobes right before closing time was a strategic move.
With only one employee remaining in the store and all customers gone for the day, Tucker and Mary ran the lowest risk of human discovery. Nonetheless, Tucker was pretty sure he’d be erasing a lot of memories tonight. To say he was out of place among racks of girly accessories, manicure kits and hair extensions would be the understatement of the century.
When he opened the door for Mary and guided her into the place, the girl behind the counter looked up from the glow of her phone, her eyeballs damn near popping out of her head. “Christ,” he muttered for Mary’s ears alone. “She acts like she’s never seen a giant pale guy leading a blind girl with a light-up crown before.”
Mary laughed into his shoulder. “You always remember your first.”
He sighed. “Not in this case, kid.”
“Ah. So that’s the plan. You’re going to make her forget we were ever here.” She tipped her chin up. “We’re still going to pay, though, aren’t we?”
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