“I understand.” Yearning and apprehension warred in her middle. “But mother. What will Hadrian do with the vampire throne, if he takes it from the new king?”
Mary sensed Tilda’s hesitation. “He doesn’t think vampires should be reduced to hiding from humans. He wants to multiply their number—enough to be the majority. Enough to live freely without fear of what might happen if they’re discovered. Power will guarantee that freedom. Night will become the new daytime. But Mary.” She took her daughter’s wrists in a tight hold. “No one has troubled themselves with us for over a decade. We must think of ourselves. Think only of our goal. We have to. Your sacrifice on behalf of the alliance is the noble act that will call back the Assembly. You understand, don’t you? It will bring back your father. It will finally get us out of here, to a place where we belong. We won’t be here to suffer or celebrate the outcome of some vampire war.”
“Yes, I get that. I understand—”
“Do you, Mary? This decision to be transported by some…some screwball stranger in gold chains isn’t a stalling tactic?”
Mary crossed her fingers behind her back, just in case she was getting ready to tell a lie. She wasn’t a hundred percent certain of her reasons for demanding to ride with Tucker yet, but best to err on the side of truthfulness. “No, mother.”
“Good. Because there is no need for fear. I have not sold you off,” she assured Mary with a breathy laugh. “Hadrian wants an alliance out of this marriage, not a wife. It is simply an advantageous arrangement. He does not expect you to share his bed. And he does not plan to cease sharing his bed with others.”
It was one of the rare moments in life that Mary treasured her blindness, for it meant not having to look Tilda in the eye. She wasn’t ignorant of sex. Books, written in braille, lined the lower half of her bedroom walls and they were full of knowledge. Even the uncomfortable kind.
Thank goodness for that. Despite cohabitating, her relationship with Tilda had never been comfortable or close enough to talk about sex at any sort of length. Perhaps her mother had been waiting for the journey to Ohio to have the talk and Mary was taking that chance away from her at the last second?
Guilt tugged at her throat. How many more times in her life would she disappoint her mother before she finally did something right?
“I’m glad,” Mary said, swallowing. “I would rather not feel…obligated.”
“You aren’t.” Tilda’s tone changed. “However, if you decide to…explore any such urges with your husband, that would not be out of bounds of the agreement. If all goes according to plan, we will return to the Faerie Realm, so there is no chance of yucky entanglements—”
“Thanks,” Mary interrupted quickly, heat staining her neck. “I’ll bear that in mind.”
Her mother laughed quietly. “I’m making you uncomfortable, aren’t I?”
“No,” she rushed to reassure her. “You’ll be there when I arrive?”
“Yes,” Tilda confirmed. “Waiting on pins and needles. Tucker will contact me when you’re close to the manor and I’ll be prepared.”
A silence grew heavy as Mary nodded.
Tilda sighed, but not in a weary manner. More in the way of someone preparing for a confession. It caused Mary to pause with her handle on her suitcase and tilt her head. “Mary, there is something quite important I’ve been waiting to tell you.”
* * *
On the way down the rear staircase of Enders, the heavy suitcase bounced against Mary’s right leg. Bump, bump, bump. But with Tilda’s words ringing in her head, she barely noticed. Her mother had offered to carry the luggage for her, but Mary needed the moment alone to absorb what she’d been told. So she’d muscled up the bag, tucked her walking stick beneath one arm and headed for the stairs, despite the risk of falling or missing an object underfoot.
It’s real.
It’s really happening.
Long ago, when Tilda started orchestrating the fae-vampire alliance, she’d floated the possibility to Mary, but they’d tacitly declined to discuss it ever since. Afraid to get Mary’s hopes up. They weren’t only up now, they were expanding and testing the confines of her bones.
Could this really be real?
With three more stairs to go, Mary’s toe caught on the edge of something that felt like a raised nail and she pinwheeled, time seeming to slow down to a snail’s crawl. I’m falling. It had been a while since she’d walked down the steps—and never by herself. Where would she go, anyway? Tilda had everything delivered or went out and got it alone. It occurred to Mary to scream, because it was her greatest asset, but wouldn’t that deter a potential rescuer?
As soon as she thought the word rescuer, she shouted, “Tucker!”
The door at the bottom of the steps crashed open loudly, metal slamming against the wall and she landed safely in a pair of arms, surrounded by the guardian’s energy signature. She recognized it immediately. Her suitcase didn’t fare quite so well, bumping noisily down the stairs, but considering it could have been Mary’s skull, instead, she considered herself lucky. And then she could think of nothing but the man crushing her to his big chest in a manner that was almost violently gentle. Like a giant protecting a doll.