Elias’s world narrowed down to a pinpoint, his throat collapsing in on itself. Hands reached for his mate, pulling her into the crowd, their boisterous cackles ripping through his bones. His fangs filled his mouth and fire blasted from a deep, dark, unknown land inside of him. The place would be leveled in minutes, but he’d be damned before something inflicted so much as a fucking scratch to Roksana—
“Mother?”
The flames were poised to erupt from Elias’s pores when a young woman stumbled into view among the paused bodies on the dance floor. Not so young, he amended. A teenager at least. Maybe eighteen or nineteen. She wore an old-fashioned nightgown, her deep red hair in a tangle from sleep. In her hand, she felt along the floor with the handle of a broomstick, her bare feet sticking to the nasty wood, though she didn’t seem to notice or care.
“Mother?” called the young woman.
“Mary, you’re supposed to be sleeping!” Tilda admonished, rushing forward with an air of maternal concern that definitely hadn’t been on display when she suggested her slayers paint the wall with Roksana’s blood. “Go on back up to bed now. Mummy is working.”
“Oh, I’m sorry.” She stared straight ahead with sightless eyes—and it was then that Elias noticed Tucker’s expression. He was staring at Mary, as if she’d been beamed down from heaven in a ray of light. “Is it the marriage decree? Have you found it?”
“Yes, dear. Yes.” Tilda patted Mary’s arm, trying to guide her daughter toward the back staircase leading up to where Elias assumed the office was located. “I told you I would take care of everything, didn’t I?”
“Yes, but…” Mary started to become visibly upset, the broom twisting in her hand, her breathing sounding as if it came through a straw. Around her the slayers remained eerily unmoving, their silence almost reverent, as if there was a saint in their midst. “Yes, but now will I have to go away and marry the—?”
Tilda interrupted with a nervous laugh, a pink glow blooming on her cheeks. “This should be a family discussion, dear. Not a public one.”
“Will you tell my future husband I’m blind or are we going to surprise him?”
“Mary, please. Come upstairs.”
The young girl tilted her head in a quick movement, the way someone might listen for an approaching train. Her nose wrinkled and she took a few steps forward, the nightgown swishing around her calves. Slayers stepped out of her way as she advanced, her hand lifting slowly, reaching out, her fingertips making contact with the center of Tucker’s chest. She walked them along his gold chains, up the side of his neck, then carefully traced them over his features. All the while, Tucker appeared to be under hypnosis, his eyes fixed on Mary’s face.
With everyone’s attention drawn to Mary and Tucker, Elias seized the opportunity to sidle closer to Roksana, signaling her with his eyes to do the same. The fear in her expression hollowed him out, but he did everything in his power to keep his composure, when in reality he longed to start kicking ass and taking names.
“Who is this, Mother?”
“You can ask him directly, Mary. He’s standing right in front of you.”
“I’m just Tucker,” he said in a funny voice.
“Just?”
Elias’s friend rubbed at the back of his neck. “Why do you use a broom to guide you?”
Mary seemed surprised by the question. “Because it serves a dual purpose. I’m not just walking around, I’m cleaning the floor behind me. I’m like a human—”
“Roomba,” they said at the same time.
“Yes,” Mary breathed, a smile widening her mouth. Little red sparks began dancing around her head merrily and several of the slayers traded astonished glances. “Are you here to bring me to my future husband?”
Tucker’s throat muscles worked. “No.”
“Can you?”
“No,” Tilda said firmly, taking Mary by the elbow and attempting to move her away from Tucker, visibly distressing the vampire. He seemed powerless to do anything but move with them, keeping Mary close. “No, he can’t, dear.”
Mary frowned and shrugged out of her mother’s hold. “You haven’t even asked him.”
“I’ll do whatever she wants.” Tucker’s voice was gravelly. “Please.”
Tilda snorted. “Absolutely not.”
The red sparks flying in a meandering pattern around Mary’s head started spinning faster, faster until they were connected in a continuous blur. Her shoulders lifted and fell, distress bringing spots of color to her cheeks. She took a deep breath and screamed, the earsplitting decibel shattering every drinking glass, cell phone screen and liquor bottle in Enders. Elias fought through the pain plaguing his ear drums, taking advantage of everyone’s distraction to lunge for Roksana, pulling her from the midst of her would-be attackers.
“Mary!” Tilda shouted, shaking the young girl by the shoulders. “Enough of this—”
The scream lifted in volume. To such a degree that Elias had to bury Roksana’s face in his chest, wrapping his arms around her head, fearing her human ears wouldn’t be able to withstand the sound. Slayers dropped to their knees on the dance floor, doubling over and pressing their palms over their ears. Meanwhile Tucker didn’t seem to be affected at all by the noise, seeming more worried about Mary than anything.