Today Tomorrow and Always (Phenomenal Fate 3)

“What about a hat?”

Mary giggled. “A hat doesn’t stop it. Plus, my skin glows, if you haven’t noticed.”

“I’ve noticed.”

The gravelly quality in his voice caused her to cock her head curiously.

“We’ll go trick-or-treating,” he said quickly, trying to hide his embarrassment. “I’ll figure out a way.”

“Really?”

“Sure.” The breathless excitement in her voice hit him like a drug. So potent he had to distract himself by adjusting the air vent, a tremor coursing through his fingers. “Halloween isn’t for another month, but those are just the finer details. Hell, you’ve got a built-in costume, don’t you? No one is going to question your radiance. They’ll just wonder how much you paid for it.” He switched lanes. “What else is on the list?”

“Getting my ears pierced.”

An icicle raked up his spine. “That’s not going to make you cry, is it?”

“I don’t know. I’ve never done it.” She smoothed out the wrinkles from her list. “It’s okay to cry, though. I do it all the time.”

“All the time?”

“Yes.” She chewed her lip. “The fae have a lot of different abilities, but some are stronger in others. I can read someone’s mood. If their emotions are strong enough, I can even feel them myself. As if they’re my own. It’s like a sixth sense. Or in my case, a fifth.” Her fingers met and folded in her lap. “Living above Enders, I pick up on a lot of regret and failure, because you vampires refuse to die when the slayers wish it.”

“Sorry about that,” he drawled, shooting her a wink.

“Yes, you’re steeped in regret,” she said, her mouth tugging at one end. “Anyway. Hence all the crying I do. I’ve been sort of living vicariously through others. Now…when there is attraction between two humans, that can get very interesting. Immortals are much harder to read. I have to reach out. Dig into them.” She suddenly looked nervous. “Do you already regret agreeing to drive me because I might scream or cry from time to time?”

“Of course not. It’s just that…” He stopped to clear his throat, his hand gesturing in a kind of wild motion. “My friends are stone cold warriors, but when their wives cry, it’s like they can’t even think straight.” Jesus Christ, he’d just compared Mary to a wife. “That’s not to say you’re, ahh…that we could be married. That’s not what I meant. I’m just saying that a strange chemical seems to be released in a dude’s brain when a girl cries and I’ve already got enough happening upstairs to add whatever it is to the equation.”

She sniffled, wiped at her nose. “So I c-can’t get my ears pierced?”

Immediately, his insides became a crime scene. “You can. Of course you can.”

“Did the chemical release?” she asked excitedly, turning in her seat.

Anxiously, he scanned her, head to toe. “You’re not really crying?”

Mary managed to appear contrite even while laughing. “No.”

“Lord, you women.” He shook his head. “Weapons of mass confusion.”

She seemed to be enjoying herself immensely. Probably because she didn’t get out much, not because he was dazzling her out of her wits. “Did all your knowledge of women come from the wives of your friends?”

There was a huge part of Tucker that wanted to lie. To tell her he’d dated scores of females on seven continents and lived to tell the tales, like some jacked-up vampire James Bond. “Yeah. For the most part,” he admitted, instead. Lying to Mary would feel sacrilegious. Like a breach of trust. “My options are slim, unless you include hooking up…and that’s, uh…not really my thing. Human women are supposed to be off limits, although that rule has been soundly ignored by those same chemically-impaired friends I mentioned earlier. It’s more of a light suggestion at this point. And female vampires…well, we aren’t exactly holding co-ed dances, you know? Plus, if a female vampire isn’t your mate, you best get to stepping or else when she finds him, you’re going to have an enemy on your hands. There are places where unattached vampires can meet, but old Tucker doesn’t want to be treated like a piece of meat.” He laughed too loudly. You’re not even convincing yourself. “Anyway. Dating in the underworld is a complicated business.”

“It sounds like it,” she breathed. “I’m glad I get to skip it and go straight to marriage.”

“Yeah, that’s so great,” he deadpanned, wishing for a stake to bury right in the center of his ribcage. “All right, so we’ve got ear piercing and trick-or-treating.” The items on her list were such simple things. No one could have helped her achieve them? Really? “Those should be easy enough,” he said, forcing the irritation from his voice. “How old are you, Mary?”

“Nineteen.”

“Total? Or you stopped aging at nineteen?”

“Total.”

Jesus. Nineteen.

Tucker didn’t know a lot about the fae, but he knew they were immortals who matured to varying points in their life. Mary was legitimately nineteen, though. Too young to be sacrificed to a vampire with dark intentions. Too young to be a tool used in a war.