Gratitude and dismay warred in the older man’s expression. “I appreciate that, son,” he said, his lips barely moving. “Hell, it means the world to me.”
Tucker’s eyes burned. “It’s nothing.”
“It’s just…” Carl looked at an invisible spot on the wall. “There was always something magical about her, you know? The way she could lift the spirits of a room or read my mind better than I could myself. It didn’t seem so far-fetched they might want her on some other planet. Earth’s best offering.” Tucker’s father shook himself, reddening a little, as if he’d been caught in a private reverie. “But now you’re the one talking nonsense. About not being able to leave this…dark world. You can. You can come home.”
As always, the word home stirred a longing ache inside of him. That’s all he ever really wanted. A place to belong. And after the vision he’d had of himself and Mary and the porch, the craving for that imaginary place was more powerful than ever. “No. I can’t.”
“There’s something different about you. I can see that, plain as day.”
“Interesting choice of words.”
“But you’re still the same man underneath,” his father persisted.
Something caught in Tucker’s throat. “It doesn’t matter.”
“Tell me the whole truth.”
“I’m trying.” Tucker dropped his head into his hands, listening for Mary’s pulse in the back bedroom, the dulcet beats reassuring him of her safety. “I’ve thought about this conversation a thousand times, but I never thought it would actually happen. It’s harder than I thought it would be to look you in the eye and say the words. I don’t want to be the reason you live in fear from now on. I don’t want to leave you with that.”
“I’d rather live in knowledge,” Carl said evenly. “You already know that about me.”
“Yeah.” A reluctant smile teased his mouth. “Maybe we should have swapped places. I would have been happy for the rest of my life picking up a six-pack on a Friday night and watching the ball game. Ignorance would have been bliss.”
His father tilted his head. “You’d really choose ignorance?”
Tucker’s smile dimmed and he cast a glance down the hallway to the back bedroom where a familiar glow spread out from beneath the door. “Maybe up until a few days ago.”
“Ah.” Carl nodded knowingly. “I know how that goes.”
You don’t know the half. “All right, Pops,” Tucker sighed. “Hold on to your hat.”
He wove his fingers together and cracked his knuckles, shaking out his hands. Then he closed his eyes and thought of Mary cowering beneath the table in the diner. Thought of the man taking a threatening step in her direction, planning to do her harm. And a static roar began in his ears, electricity racing down to his fingertips. When he opened his eyes, everything in the kitchen had elevated and his father was walking through the scene with an incredulous expression on his face, ducking beneath the toaster, waving his hand around it as if to make sure some trick hadn’t been employed.
“This is extraordinary,” his father whispered. “How are you doing this?”
“This? Is new. And this is the first time I’ve tried to control it, so watch your toes.” Once again, Tucker listened for Mary’s heartbeat and calmed himself enough to bring the appliances and knickknacks back down, some of them landing far harder than others. By that time, his father had journeyed to the other side of the kitchen, so Tucker accelerated out of his chair, splitting atoms in two with a burst of speed to stand directly in front of a wide-eyed Carl. “Warn me if you’re going to faint again.”
“Lord almighty.” He took off his glasses and cleaned them with the end of his shirt, slapping them back down on his face. “Just tell me in black and white.”
“I’m a vampire.”
A long haul of silence passed. “Well, based on the pale complexion and the fact that you haven’t aged a damn day, that was my original guess, but…” He jerked a thumb over his shoulder. “Then you threw telekinesis at me.”
Tucker shrugged. “It’s complicated.”
His father jerked his chin toward the hallway. “Is she like you?”
“No.” His father was taking this way better than expected. Tucker hoped that meant he was prepared for a little more. “She’s a fairy.”
Down went Carl, eyes rolled into the back of his head.
This time, Tucker caught him.
Chapter 16
Mary lay curled on her side on a bed, hands tucked beneath her chin.
Her eyes burned with unshed tears, but none of them had fallen.
She didn’t know where she was, in relation to the rest of the house, but she was undeniably secure. Tucker had let her walk into the room and close the door, so it was safe. Not to mention, she could hear the muffled sound of his voice nearby.
And in that moment, she really, really resented the fact that someone who’d lied so inexcusably to her could make her feel safe.