Between the Marshal & the Vampire

by Tricia Owens

  "Now, if you'd please, lie side by side here."

  Clay nodded to indicate that Mariel should take the position against the rocks so Clay would be a barrier between her and the desert…and Vellum. Once she was down, Clay lay next to her. He shifted over and found some comfort in the soft press of Mariel's limbs against his. He hoped she took some measure of comfort from him, too. He turned his head and smiled encouragingly at her and was rewarded with her answering smile. She didn't appear to be afraid, and he thanked the stars that it was she with him rather than a woman who lacked her backbone.

  Vellum kneeled beside Clay and tied his hands together in front of his belly. Clay tested the binding and found it impossible to shift. The knots would likewise be too tight for a mere man to pick loose. Vellum repeated the process with Mariel's hands. Then their feet. Clay expected the vampire to then attach him and Mariel somehow, but Vellum backed away and draped a cloth over them, carefully tucking it up around their shoulders. He also set a canteen of water nearby.

  For a mad instant, as Vellum paused where he kneeled above them, Clay thought the vampire was going to kiss them goodnight. Clay's heart began pounding, though he couldn't say why.

  Vellum met his gaze and smirked. It was a smile that Clay had never had aimed at him; it was the sort he aimed at women. Before he could dwell on it, Vellum rose to his feet. The rush of air into Clay's lungs physically hurt.

  "If there's an emergency, shout for me," Vellum told them. "I'll hear you. Otherwise, I will see you just after the sun sets. Sleep well."

  Clay snorted and watched carefully as the vampire climbed into the crate and pulled the lid over it, sealing him inside. Clay thought he should feel revulsion, but all he felt was exhaustion.

  He turned his head and kissed Mariel's forehead.

  "Goodnight, Mariel."

  She sighed and rested her face against his shoulder. "Goodnight, Clay."

  After all that they'd been through, sleep came within seconds.

  4

  "Our clever vampire didn't bother concerning himself with whether we'd need to eat," Clay grumbled as he glared at the crate where Vellum continued to sleep.

  "He should be waking up any moment now."

  The sun was a spilled egg on the horizon. Clay had been watching it sink for an hour now, his dread mounting as the orb slowly diminished. Waking up with the sun blazing in the sky had lifted his spirits, mostly because it had been the best time for an escape attempt. But to his consternation, the ropes binding them had been tied with a strength his 'ordinary' fingers couldn't unravel. Sure, he could have hopped over to the horses and tried somehow to mount and then ride them, but it would have been a comedy of errors and likely a waste of energy. So now he sat with his back to the butte alongside Mariel, waiting for their captor to awaken and feed from them.

  "I'm not going to let him drink from you," Clay stated, even though his skin itched with trepidation at offering himself up instead. "I'm bigger and stronger. I should be able to keep him satisfied until Everton Fort."

  "Over a month away?" Mariel's tone was disbelieving. "If you tried, you'd be as weak as though you'd been gut shot. He needs us both. I'm prepared for it."

  "Preparing and doing are two different things." He hesitated. Why bother shielding her from the truth? She had a right to know. Besides, she was strong. He had the feeling she would be able to handle it. "A long time ago, when I was still a child, I knew someone who'd been the victim of a vampire. It was a woman. A woman who'd been as kind to me as a mother."

  He felt her looking at him, but he continued staring out over the desert. "Not only had the vampire drained every last drop of blood from her body, leaving her skin as dry as paper and as white as milk, he'd torn out half her throat to do it. He'd been a dog, mindlessly savaging a piece of meat. That's how they are, Mariel, even if Vellum seems to be like us. He's not. He needs to kill us in order to live. You can't forget that."

  She touched his knee with her bound hands. "I'm sorry for your loss, Clay. I can't imagine what it must have been like to see that."

  "It wasn't the best experience I've ever had."

  "What if that was an aberration? A vicious vampire, unlike the rest of them, just as a man like Beaufort is unlike the rest of us?"

  He had to tamp down his anger. Mariel had struck him from their first meeting as an intelligent woman, smarter than most men he knew, come to think of it. What was the reason for her continual insistence on giving Vellum the benefit of the doubt despite all logic to the contrary?

  He shifted sideways so he could face her. "Mariel, tell me the truth. Has something happened between you and him?" When she bit her lip, he added, "You can tell me. I promise I won't be mad at you."

  He let her see the truth of it in his eyes. He would never hurt a woman, not even with words if he could help it. She seemed to understand this, for she sighed and nodded reluctantly.

  "I was looking for a weapon," she said quietly. "That's why I was in the cargo car. I opened Vellum's crate, thinking it might hold rifles. He was inside. I suppose I woke him. He—He attacked me."

  Clay tensed, his blood pressure rising. "Did he hurt you?"

  "He—He bit me." She touched her fingers to her neck and looked up at him, wide-eyed. "He drank from me, Clay."

  He yearned to surge to his feet and kick the lid off the vampire's crate. Watching Vellum burn would be as satisfying as seeing Rhody Beaufort hang for his crimes.

  "It hurt at first," she admitted, making Clay's blood boil, "but I don't think he intended it to. He said himself he'd been in a state of hibernation. I think…he was hungry and not thinking straight."

  "Mariel!"

  "It's true!" she shot back. "The moment he realized he was hurting me—it changed. It no longer hurt. And then he stopped completely and offered to help me against Beaufort's men."

  There was more to it than that. She was a terrible liar. Had Vellum hurt her more than she admitted? Frightened her? Probably he'd intimidated her into going along with him, maybe held the threat of her life over her head. Or Clay's life.

  "It wasn't the worst experience I've had," she said, throwing his own words back at him, twisted. "I survived it just fine, which is why I believe you and I will survive this trip to Everton. Vellum knows how to take from us without hurting us or killing us. The vampire attack on your friend…Vellum wouldn't do that."

  "You barely know him, Mariel! You don't know him."

  "Marshal, are you telling me you never had a gut feeling about a person? That you never looked at someone and knew right away whether they'd cause you trouble or not?"

  "Sure, I have. I have one right now, telling me Vellum is going to turn on us the minute we're no longer useful to him."

  It wasn't wholly true. Clay's feeling about Vellum was complicated and shaded by his past experience with a vampire. Clay's job was to protect Mariel from danger, be it from Beaufort's gang or a creature from Shadow Valley, so it was nigh impossible to relax his attitude toward Vellum. But he had to admit that Vellum didn't fit the image he'd carried of a vampire since discovering Janie's body all those years ago. Clay didn't know what to think of him, except to be wary of him.

  "I hope you're not right," Mariel said with a sigh, "or else that means I'm a bigger fool than I thought."

  Clay didn't like what the comment hinted at, but there was no time to question it. The lid on Vellum's crate lifted and then slid aside. A moment later the vampire sat up in the twilight gloom.

  He looked unruffled, as though he'd laid back mere seconds ago, not twelve hours earlier. Clay searched the other male's features, looking for signs of the monster that he was. He didn't find any, and when Vellum's dark gaze locked with his, it was Clay who had to look away, unease crawling over his skin, though he couldn't say why.

  "Did you forget that we'd need to eat or take care of personal business?" he demanded gruffly as Vellum smoothly climbed out of the box.

  "I did, and I apologize for that. It's not every day that I t
ravel with humans." Vellum came to them and kneeled in front of Mariel. He laid a pale hand over her shoe. Clay wanted to kick it away, but figured it wouldn't bring about anything good. "I won't forget your needs again," Vellum promised her, sounding earnest and regretful.

  Clay was disturbed to realize he was jealous. Why? Did he honestly think a vampire was competition for Mariel's affection?

  When she smiled slightly and said, "If you forget again, I'm not feeding you," in a tone that was nearly teasing, Clay curled his hands into fists.

  Yes, Vellum had become competition. Clearly when the vampire had taken blood from her, he'd stolen something of her heart as well.

  That's all he's getting of you, Mariel. I'll show you what a good man can offer you and hopefully it'll be the very thing you desire.

  Once she was untied, Vellum helped Mariel to her feet. He smiled at her and turned his back on her, making a point to prove that he trusted her not to run off. She didn't, moving only far enough into the scrub to take care of her business in private.

  Clay's smile wasn't friendly as Vellum kneeled down to untie his binds.

  "She told me that you fed from her," he said. "That's all she said, but I know you did something more, something to make her look kindly on you. I want you to know: I won't be fooled by anything you do, vampire."

  "Marshal, you feel compelled to make my life more difficult when there's no need. We're all working together to reach our ultimate destinations." Vellum set both hands on Clay's knees, startling him into raising his bound hands defensively before he could stop himself. Vellum gave a sliver of a smile as he slid his palms down Clay's shins to the rope binding his ankles. It was an alarmingly sensual touch. "I'm not a threat, assuming your idea of danger is pain and misery. I'm not interested in presenting that kind of threat. Not at all."

  Clay ached to kick the other male out of his personal space, but forced himself to sit still while Vellum undid the ropes. "So what kind of threat do you intend to present?"

  Vellum finished loosening the knot and began to work on Clay's wrist restraints. "You tell me, Marshal. Surely you have an explanation for the way your body reacts to me."

  When Clay frowned up at him, not understanding, Vellum's smile deepened and he dropped his gaze pointedly to Clay's lap. To his horror, Clay realized he had become hard at some point. His dick was swollen and bent painfully within his trousers.

  Why? Mariel was off in the scrub. It wasn't her presence that had sent him off. Which meant…

  "Danger comes in many forms, but not all of them will hurt you," Vellum murmured. He moved away, the rope around Clay's wrists unraveling just like his equilibrium.

  ~~~~~

  When Mariel returned to camp, she discovered that Vellum had already succeeded in building a small fire. The flames highlighted his angular features as he smiled up at her.

  "I'll catch some food for you and the Marshal if you'll take over fire tending duties."

  "Of course."

  Mariel liked the look of him in the firelight, but was that wrong of her? Clay seemed to think so. Clay had seen the worst that vampires could do. He knew them better than she did, yet why did she feel that she knew Vellum better?

  Vellum stepped away from the fire, toward her. Clay was at the horses, going through the packs to see what Beaufort's men had carried with them. The Marshal was unaware of Vellum stepping into her personal space, unaware that her senses filled with the smell of cool earth and unaware that her eyes were blind to all except Vellum's masculine, beautiful features.

  "Did the Marshal turn you against me as I slept?" he murmured. He reached out and gently ran his fingertips through her hair.

  It took all of her will not to lean into the touch. Vellum's undeniable power intoxicated her. She didn't care that it was unnatural. Vellum was the ultimate protector. Her womanhood recognized a superior alpha. Why weren't her instincts warning her away from him? Where had her sense of self-preservation gone?

  "It doesn't matter what Clay or anyone else tells me," she replied. "I make up my own mind about people."

  "And what has your mind told you about me?"

  "To be careful around you, but to believe that you're a man of your word."

  He laughed, very softly. "I'm not a man, but you may trust my word."

  "You were once a man. Deep inside, I think you're still a man."

  He was amused by her, like he would be of a dog that yipped.

  "If you think I'm so enamored of you that I'll do anything you say, you're wrong," she told him, irritated. "I may think there's some humanity left in you, but that doesn't mean I've forgotten how you hurt me."

  His brow drew down, his features pinching into an expression of regret. "I was not myself when you opened my crate, Mariel. Please, I need you to accept my apologies."

  "I understood that. You were hungry…"

  "I'm hungry now," he said softly, "but I'll prove to you that I can be a gentleman for you. I want to be." He briefly caressed her cheek. His fingers were cooler than they'd been last night. "Go to the fire and keep the handsome Marshal company, Mariel. He could use an understanding friend. I'll return shortly with dinner."

  He walked past her and when she turned to follow his progress, she gasped because he'd vanished. Was he invisible? No, just fast. Again, she experienced an illicit thrill at his power.

  "Has he decided to let us go?" Clay asked when she joined him at the fire. He grinned ruefully.

  She smiled back. "He's gone hunting for our dinner."

  "If he'd give me my damn gun back I'd save him the effort. I've searched all the horses and it's nowhere."

  "In the crate?" she suggested, wincing on his behalf.

  "Nah, I saw inside it when he pulled out my boots. Nothing in there but dirt and tar." He made a face as he pretended to brush dirt from the toe of his boot.

  "Never took you for a vain man, Marshal," she teased.

  "'Marshal', is it? Well, ma'am, I've never had a reason to care about how I look until now."

  She couldn't tell if he was teasing. He was smiling but that seemed to be his default expression and she liked that about him. From his hair to the color of his eyes to his personality, everything about Clay was easy-going and comfortable. Would lying with him be just as easy? Or would he show surprising intensity, a devilish side?

  Mariel had to laugh at her thoughts. Clearly, traveling with two good-looking males was causing her imagination to run wild like an unbroken horse.

  "I found fixings for coffee." He motioned at the pot sitting within the fire.

  She rubbed her arms. "I could use it, thank you." She glanced out into the desert as a saberwolf howled. "Never traveled by moonlight like this." She turned to him. "Is this unusual for you, too? I mean, not counting Vellum. I imagine as a Marshal, you must have a lot of unusual experiences beneath your belt."

  "Not any so exciting." Clay poked at the wood with a stick. "Mostly I've dealt with horse thieves and robbers. On a couple of occasions I've gone after airship pirates who've settled within the territory."

  "Airship pirates!" Mariel covered her mouth sheepishly. "I apologize. I shouldn't be so excited about criminals—I'm not, honestly—but I once harbored the fantasy of captaining an airship. Silly, I know, but—"

  "Not silly at all," Clay said. "I've met plenty of legitimate captains and you're just like them, Mariel."

  She smiled to herself. "That's nice of you to say."

  "I didn't say it to be nice. I said it because it's the truth. I could tell after talking to you for a while that you're meant for better things than running an old inn in Willowtown." He gave her a look over. "I could see you in the uniform. No doubt about it. Trousers and all."

  "Trousers!" she laughed. "I almost think I want to be one just for the trousers. My friends and customers would drop dead if they saw me in trousers."

  "You'd look good in them," Clay went on, his eyes darkening. "They'd show off some mighty fine legs, I'm sure."

  Instead of blush
ing or looking away as she might have done before she'd joined the train in Willowtown, Mariel boldly met his gaze.

  "Guess you'll just have to wonder about that," she said.

  "Will I?" he said. "Only guess?"

  "Marshal, you're being rather forward, don't you think?"

  His smile made her heart flip. "You telling me to back off, ma'am?"

  Fortunately, Vellum appeared, sparing her from answering. The black-clad male emerged from the shadows just outside the ring of firelight as though he'd been standing there all along. Maybe he had been.

  He held up a pair of wild hares. "Will this suffice?"

  "That's the best you can do, vampire?" Clay said with a shake of the head. "Expected someone like you to come back with a full steer."

  "Now that I know you require an excess of meat, I'll adjust my hunting accordingly," Vellum replied, staring at him.

  Clay said nothing in return, just continued poking at the fire. Mariel noticed Vellum's lips twitch before the vampire tossed the dead rabbits beside the Marshal.

  Clay expertly gutted and prepared the hares and soon he and Mariel were enjoying the meat while Vellum stood guard, watching the desert.

  "What are you looking for?" Mariel asked him as she finished eating and sucked the last juice from her fingers. "Do you think there are more of Beaufort's men out there?"

  "I dispatched them all," he said without turning.

  "Then what are you—"

  "He's afraid of the Empire Marshals," Clay cut in. "By now the news of the train attack will have reached the nearby towns. The Marshals will know you and I are no longer with the other passengers and that Darrell is dead. They'll think some of Beaufort's men took us with them and they'll have begun a search." Still watching Vellum, Clay added, "You afraid, vampire?"

  "Of the Marshals?" Vellum's eyes caught the fire as he looked back. "Of you? The answer is no in either case. I know how to handle them and I know how to handle you."

  It didn't sound like a threat to Mariel, but strangely, like a promise. Even Clay didn't bluster with a defense of his ego. He merely mumbled to himself and glared into the flames as though willing them to flare up and consume Vellum.