was stuck in a vise. “We’ll make as much progress as we can tonight, but I’ll need to find a place to spend the sunlight hours. I hope you weren’t planning on getting a tan on this road trip.”
“Redheads don’t tan. They fry. At least that’s what I’ve been told.” Mary was still watching him oddly, a line between her brows. “I’m not interested in a tan, but…”
“But?”
Her palms chafed on the material of her skirt and the thighs beneath, drawing his rapt attention. What his hands and mouth wouldn’t give to take over that task. “Well, I-I have a list compiled of things I’ve always wanted to do. Maybe we could knock one or two of them off while I have so much freedom?” She swallowed. “I don’t know what exactly is waiting for me in Ohio, but I doubt I’ll ever have the ability to do whatever I want. It’s too risky.”
The chance to give her something, anything, made him sit up straighter. “What’s on this list?”
She chewed on her bottom lip a moment. Leaning back in the seat and lifting her hips, she dug around in her pocket and Tucker couldn’t stop himself. Couldn’t keep his gaze from tracking down the curve of her butt as it lifted off the seat. Christ. She definitely wasn’t as young as he’d originally thought. Nope. Not at all. As soon as she’d landed in his arms, he’d had to amend his earlier impression that she was too young for him to be lusting after, because it wasn’t true. Mary was a young woman with breasts, hips and a scent that rattled and soothed him at the same time. And he’d already failed in his mission not to notice. Failed with flying colors.
Tucker floored it onto the parkway, only glancing to his right again once he’d gotten his thirst under control and Mary had unfolded the list, tracing her fingertips over an endless sea of braille.
“Hot damn, kid,” he laughed when he saw it. “How many items are on that thing?”
“One hundred and seventy-three.”
“Read some of them to me. I’ll try and figure out if they’re doable.”
“You’re not going to laugh, are you?”
“I laugh at just about everything. But it’s with appreciation, not ridicule.”
She processed that and nodded, shifting to get more comfortable in her seat. “Okay, then. I would like to go trick-or-treating. Just once. I’ve never done it.”
His heart might have been a dead lump, but somehow it still managed to flip-flop in his chest. “That’s a shame, Mary.”
She shrugged a shoulder. “The fae children I grew up with learned how to control their radiance, hide their abilities. But I could never manage to keep mine subdued. As soon as I get anxious or frustrated…” She pointed to the crown of her head, conjuring a flurry of blue glimmers that gave the interior of the car an azure glow. “We’ve worked on controlling it for a long time, Mother and I, but no amount of training seems to work.”
“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