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 lie. 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?