Today, Tomorrow and Always

by Bailey, Tessa

  Tears coursed down her cheeks, her will crumbling bit by bit. She was no match for this…this entity. He had centuries of experience and more power than she could even fathom.

  They’d been naïve and desperate to throw their lot in with Hadrian.

  They might be valuable to him and his ambitions, but he wasn’t above bending them to his will whenever he could. Forcefully. This was not a man who tempered himself.

  Not for anyone. And they’d underestimated his evil.

  Hadrian finally let go of her throat and she sucked down lungfuls of oxygen, immediately calling out for her mother who, terrifyingly, did not answer. A gust of wind blew Mary’s hair back—signaling Hadrian’s departure?—and she heard the door creak.

  “Lovely speaking to you, my bride.” He knocked on the doorframe. “Oh, one last thing. Your mother mentioned to me that the vampire who left you at my gates had a beating heart. Are you his mate, perchance?”

  Afraid to speak, not even sure she could with the burning in her throat, Mary could only sit stock still, trembling violently.

  “If his heart was beating, he must have drunk your blood. How very noble of him to give you up and sign his own death certificate.”

  Mary mentally replayed that statement five times, each rendition faster than the last, until her head sounded like a carnival funhouse. “What…what do you mean?” she croaked.

  A long pause ensued, followed by an earsplitting laugh from Hadrian. “Did you not know? Once a vampire drinks from his mate, he can consume her blood alone. Or he will die. Slowly and painfully.” His journey continued into the hallway. “Enjoy your stay.”

  This time when Mary tried to scream, the inside of her throat burst into flames and she choked to a stop, clawing desperately at her jugular to find the source of pain. Until she realized Hadrian had put it there. He’d taken away her only weapon, stripped her of hope and inundated her with horror in a matter of minutes.

  Tucker, no. Oh my God, why?

  When her sight started returning in degrees a while later, it hardly mattered. She could see nothing of what was in front of her face, only a blur of tears.

  Chapter 22

  At any other time, Tucker would have been glad as hell to see Jonas.

  Or to sit across from Elias and Roksana and marvel at the slayer’s transformation from human to vampire. They were in an empty factory on the edge of Warren, approximately thirty miles from Hadrian’s manor. Tension ruled the air. Vampires from all over, summoned by the king, kept to the shadows on the floor of the abandoned space, even though it was the dead middle of the night. They waited for Jonas to outline their plan of attack.

  No one more so than Tucker.

  Elias called to him from a few feet away, but his friend’s voice sounded like the buzzing of a fly. Every time he blinked out of habit, his eyelids seemed to take a full minute to lift again. And that lethargy continued throughout his entire body. His knees, his arms, his thoughts.

  The lack of sustenance wasn’t doing this to him. Not yet. It was the lack of Mary.

  Tucker dropped his head down between his outstretched knees, wrapping his forearms around the back of his neck. There was a spilled oil pattern on the floor and he studied it, finding it reminded him of Mary. Her hair billowing in the wind.

  Pain exploded behind Tucker’s right eye and he realized how hard his back teeth were grinding together, but he only applied more pressure, hoping they would shatter. God, anything to distract from the unholy pain in the center of his chest. What was she doing right now? Did she have her sight back? What was she looking at?

  “Something beautiful, I hope,” he murmured to himself, the words sound like remnants of a dream.

  “Are you even listening to me, bloodsucker?” Roksana demanded in her Russian accent to his left, her hip bumping his on the bench where they sat side by side. “I am trying to tell you about my first fight as vampire. A slayer of all people! I could not believe, Tucker. There I was, taking a leisurely walk through the graveyard and this Svo-lach’ tries to stake me.” She slapped a hand down on his knee and squeezed. “I hang her on the fence by her underpants. Camel toe for days. I took a picture. Here…”

  She started to dig through her pocket, but Tucker stopped her with a sound.

  Tucker was vaguely aware of Elias and Roksana trading a look. “I was going to work up to this, but seeing as how we are preparing for battle and regrets should be aired…do you want to explain what happened with the fairy?”

  “I don’t have any regrets to air,” said Tucker dully.

  “What about grievances?”

  Tucker raked his hands down his face.

  Elias sat down on the other side of Tucker. “The plan was to kidnap her. Not to bring her to Hadrian. What happened? Jonas wouldn’t spill.”

  “She stood to gain more with Hadrian.”

  “That can’t be true,” Roksana scoffed.

  He didn’t want to talk about his pain out loud. No, he wanted to wrap himself tightly around it and let the suffering destroy him, the way soldiers fell on a grenade. He was harboring pain so bitter, it shouldn’t be inflicted on anyone else. But if this was the last time he would see his best friends, he had to give them something. Especially since he would be taking away their right to have his back. If the situation was reversed, he would be eternally pissed. “Elias, if keeping Roksana meant she could never fight again, would you give her up?”

  “No.”

  “No.” Tucker glanced over at his stoic friend. “Just like that.”

  Elias nodded, sending his mate a blistering look that would have made Tucker uncomfortable if he had the ability to feel anything but loss. “I would fight on her behalf,” said his friend firmly. “Whatever she needed.”

  “But fighting is what she loves the most.”

  “Elias is what I love most,” Roksana said, crossing her arms jerkily, apparently no more comfortable discussing emotions than when she was human. “I could adapt to any changes if Elias is there to strengthen me. And vice versa.”

  “Hell if that isn’t right,” Elias growled. “I need her. She needs me.”

  “You know, having a decent sulk is pretty fucking difficult when I’m sandwiched between you two horn dogs.”

  Roksana breathed a shaky laugh. “I did not know to expect this increased…ardor…after being Silenced.”

  “She was like this before,” Elias drawled, earning him a playful flash of Roksana’s fangs. “Anyway, the point is moot. We are mated. I couldn’t give her up without sentencing myself to a painful death.” Elias blinked, studied Tucker more closely. “We had a suspicion that Mary might be your mate. The way you reacted to each other at the club…”

  Tucker remained silent, staring straight ahead.

  Elias shoved to his feet. “Jesus Christ.” He paced away, whirled around and came back. “Have you drunk from her?” He shook his head. “No, it’s not possible. I can’t hear your heart beating.”

  “It’s there.” He pushed open the sides of his leather jacket, the low sound of his pulse slothful in his ears. “It’s just quiet without her.”

  Elias was visibly stricken. And when Roksana jerked back, Tucker knew she’d heard the organ laboring to perform. Already. After just forty-eight hours without his mate. “But I don’t understand. You can’t be without Mary now. Why would you bring her to Hadrian?”

  Tucker rubbed at his gritty eyes. “My animal instinct might have been to keep her so I could live. But I didn’t want her life with me to be less than she deserved. I made the decision I would have made as a human.” He dropped his hand away and conjured up the best smile he could manage for both of them. “We all know I’ve always been more human than vampire. The human side won.”

  “But we all lose,” Roksana breathed, her eyes awash with moisture.

  “I’m going to make sure that doesn’t happen.” Tucker patted her on the crown of her head and stood. “You make sure to pour out a cold one for me every year, huh?”


  He hated walking away from Elias and Roksana when they were visibly reeling, but he simply didn’t have enough strength in his body to do anything about it. He could only focus on putting one foot in front of the other and completing the mission he’d set out for himself.

  Maybe this was the purpose he’d been waiting for as far back as he could remember.

  The family, home, the porch and the sense of belonging was never in the cards. But giving Mary her happiness and helping good overcome evil was.

  A man could be remembered for far worse.

  He found Jonas outside the factory looking out over the surrounding barren field. When Tucker approached, the king didn’t even turn around, letting Tucker know he’d been expected.

  “Did you find a way for me to get to Hadrian?”

  Jonas turned to Tucker, conflict heavy in his expression. “You don’t have to do this.”

  “Come on, man.” Tucker took a half-smoked cigar out of his coat pocket, lit it and took a long puff, letting a ring of smoke out into the air. “I’m going out either way. Let me go out doing something useful.” He looked Jonas in the eye. “It’s my decision. Not yours.”

  The king stared at him long and hard. “Then, yes. I found a way to get you in.” He chewed the inside of his cheek, brow heavy with a furrow. “One of our own is posing as a supporter of the dark uprising. He’s been at Hadrian’s manor for weeks. Training. It took some convincing, but he’s willing to switch places with you.”

  Tucker nodded. “That’ll do.”

  Jonas heaved a humorless laugh. “He is impossible to defeat alone. It’s very likely you’ll never get close enough to take the amulet.” He paused. “Though I’ve learned not to underestimate a mated vampire.”

  “Tucker?”

  With a jolt, Tucker turned at the sound of his father’s voice, finding Carl sidling slowly out of the factory’s shadow, a duffel bag clutched to his chest. “Dad?” He took a step forward. “What the hell are you doing here?”

  “I followed you.” Carl split a look between Tucker and Jonas, his expression nervous but…stubborn. “I could tell something was wrong. Thought you might need me.” His chin went up. “And frankly, I’m tired of waiting around, fiddling with satellites, waiting for something to happen. I want to be a part of what’s happening. Not on the sideline. Not anymore.”

  With a hot poker twisting in his throat, Tucker turned back to Jonas and gave a sheepish wince. What was that fullness in his chest? Was it pride? Yeah, he reckoned it was. “Jonas, meet my father. Carl Moore.”

  To which the king sighed and said, “You’re lucky I have bigger shit to worry about right now than human discovery.” He nodded over Tucker’s shoulder. “How do you do, Mister Moore?”

  “Very well, thank you.”

  “This is Jonas,” Tucker explained. “He’s sits on the throne of the High Order.”

  Carl nodded jovially. “And that means?”

  Tucker puffed his cigar. “He’s the king of the vampires.”

  When Carl staggered on his feet, Tucker shot forward to catch him before he could faint and smack his head off the asphalt, but there was no need. Carl pressed a hand to his sternum and straightened, raising his chin. “Ah yes, the vampire king. Of course.” He gulped and transferred his dazed attention to Tucker. “What did he mean? That he found someone willing to switch places with you? Where?”

  A weight sank in Tucker’s gut. He’d forced himself to smile through a goodbye to Carl back in Buckhannon, thinking it would be the last time he saw his father. Wanting to leave him with good memories from their final time together. He never anticipated Carl following him. How was he going to explain to this man that he’d chosen to die?

  “I…” Tucker started. “Dad…”

  “There is going to be a battle, I’m afraid,” Jonas said, stepping in with his usual briskness, though there was a deep groove between his brows. “Tucker and myself. All of us will be fighting in it. For a worthy cause. But…” His throat worked. “A potentially deadly one.”

  Tucker listened to his father’s pulse quicken. He expected the man to ask scientific questions or beg Tucker not to participate in the battle. Instead, Carl notched his chin even higher. “I volunteer for this battle.”

  Silence. Until eventually Tucker forced a laugh, finding a spiky impediment lodged in his throat. “Dad, it’s not a human battle. You wouldn’t be remotely safe.” Tucker slashed a hand through the air. “No. I…look, there’s a good chance I won’t come back from this, all right?”

  “It’s Mary, isn’t it?” Carl glanced toward the warehouse. “She isn’t here or she would be by your side. Your battle is for her, son?”

  Tucker couldn’t speak, so he let his father see the answer in his eyes. Let him see everything. The emptiness, his willingness to make the ultimate sacrifice. And he’d never been prouder to be Carl’s son than that moment. When Carl swiped at his reddening nose and straightened his spine. “I will have my son’s back. Damn the consequences. I’ve lived too long in confusion and regret. I refuse to regret this. I refuse to be left out now when being…present matters most.” He jabbed a finger in Jonas’s direction, who raised an impressed eyebrow. “You can’t stop me, king vampire or not.”

  “Well,” Jonas began in a drawl. “Technically I could stop you—”

  “I will be on daddy-sitting duty,” Roksana sniffed, walking out of the shadow thrown by the warehouse, Elias close at her back. “I will make sure no one stabs him in the neck.”

  “Roksana…” Tucker sighed, though there was a definite sting behind his eyes.

  “A man kept from battle is a man unfulfilled.” She slapped Carl on the shoulder. “You will stick close to me, da? We will mutilate and make merry.”

  Carl had stars in his eyes. “And who are you, my dear?”

  “I am Roksana. Former vampire slayer. Daughter of the Queen of Shadows, but we don’t like to talk about that, since she tried to kill me. Very touchy subject.”

  “Oh.” The older man nodded affably. “I see.”

  Down went Carl.

  Tucker caught him at the last second. “And we were making such progress.”

  * * *

  Mary clawed the windowsill, frustration and misery climbing the walls of her throat.

  Down below, hordes of vampires and fae arrived. Wedding guests preparing to become allies in the underworld. They didn’t have any weapons, save the odd blade. And themselves. The beings below were ancient, in some cases, and their ability to manipulate objects and the atmosphere around them was dangerous enough on its own.

  Four days had passed since Tucker left her and she felt every second of the separation. Reluctantly, Tilda had confirmed what Hadrian said. That once mated, a vampire cannot live long without his mate, but she was beginning to wonder if she’d survive. There was a rabid stirring in her stomach that wouldn’t abate. Her skin itched and her body wouldn’t stay still—so the fact that she’d been locked in this room was a horrible hindrance.

  Mary wrung her hands and paced, her nerve endings enflamed. And she couldn’t help but compare the sensations to days earlier, when she’d sat in the passenger seat of Tucker’s car, her entire being demanding she have him. Demanding she give to him. The desire he’d stirred by defeating those slayers in the diner wild and urgent.

  After days left alone with nothing but her thoughts, she’d come to the conclusion that something inside her had known all along she was Tucker’s mate. The hunger demanded to be fed now and the only thing it wanted was his touch, his bite, his presence.

  She was going to go mad without it.

  No exaggeration. She was finally living up to her nickname.

  Gibberish words bubbled over her lips as she walked the length of her bedroom prison, her eyes heavy and red from lack of sleep. She was still wearing Tucker’s shirt. Tilda had forced her to bathe this morning, but she’d put the garment right back on, desperate to keep Tucker’s scent nearby. But it was no longer calming her, it was turnin
g her more and more frantic. She had to get out of this room.

  But how?

  Hundreds of vampires and fae filled the manor’s grounds below. She could never escape surrounded by heightened hearing and sharp eyes. Even if she tried, she ran the risk of Hadrian taking his wrath out on Tucker.

  Tucker who was dying without her.

  Mary dropped into a crouch, shoved her balled fists up against her eyes and screamed through her teeth, but the brand on her throat lit and turned the sound into a pitiful whimper. Her scattered heartbeat echoed so loudly in her head, she didn’t hear the footsteps approaching her door. Didn’t know anyone was coming until Tilda stepped into the room with a white dress draped over her arm.

  The tension between them was thicker than molasses.

  At times, over the last few days, Mary swore she could see a dawning remorse on her mother’s face, but it quickly hardened to resolve. It was the latter that stopped Mary from commiserating with Tilda or trying to break through. To make her see that nothing was worth aligning with Hadrian. Not a reunion with Anton. Not being brought to the Faerie Realm.

  Not her sight.

  But Mary was angry, dammit. Angrier than she’d been in her entire life, and part of her just wanted to remain this way, locked up tight, alone in the misery.

  Tilda drew up short when she got close enough to see Mary’s red face, but recovered with a brisk smile. “It’s time, daughter.”

  Time for her wedding.

  Honestly, she was surprised it had taken this long since Hadrian was eager for the alliance to be solidified. Now, she could only regard the beautiful white lace garment with a dispassionate stare. This was what it felt like to be truly powerless. Her exhaustion and heartache were dragging her down, down, to the depths of a murky swamp and nothing felt real there. Not the dress, not her mother, not the colors and objects around her. Sight was almost a curse at this point because she’d be watching her doom play out, instead of merely listening.