by Tricia Owens
With a stick, Vellum drew patterns in the dirt before the fire pit. His eyes glowed like coals. "Why was it wonderful? Indulge me with the details."
"Well," she began, as she thought back to their brief time there, "Clay pampered me in every way he could. He booked us the nicest room in the nicest inn. He took me out to the most delicious dinners every night. We went to shows. He bought me so many dresses—"
"None of which she now wears," Clay said with a chuckle.
"At your request," she reminded him archly. "But besides all of that, it was nice to relax and know that Beaufort had met justice and we were safe."
"I imagine most people would have been satisfied with such a life."
Mariel frowned slightly. "That's true. And I'm not saying I didn't appreciate everything we had there. I did."
"Clay seems to have done his utmost to impress you," Vellum noted.
"Because she deserves it," Clay said easily.
"You both do." Vellum tossed the stick into the fire. "I hope you realize that you will never again enjoy that lifestyle while you are with me. By aligning yourself with me you have thrown away all semblance of a comfortable life. You will never again be accepted by your friends and family. From now on you will be outcasts just as I am."
"We talked about it." Mariel held the vampire's gaze. "We knew what would happen when we came for you."
"Did you truly? What kind of life will this be? Do you intend to make your home with me in Shadow Valley Territory? Live amongst the vampires, knowing that they'll follow your every move obsessively because they hunger to drink your blood? Or will we live here, where your presence by my side makes you just as guilty for every vampire crime committed in Mountain Sky? Either option, Mariel, promises death."
"Lots of things promise death," she told him evenly. "But not so many things promise happiness. Or pleasure. Those things are rarer. We came for those."
"Sentimental fools," he muttered, but his voice lacked rancor. The stiff line of his shoulders visibly softened.
Sensing that Vellum had given up attempting to drive them off, Mariel reached for Clay's hand and held it.
"Would you like to hear about the very first time that Clay attempted to help me pick out a dress?" Her voice held laughter as she recalled the memory. Beside her, Clay muttered beneath his breath.
Black vampire eyes lifted to her, glanced at their linked hands, then rose again to her face. Vellum slowly grinned.
"It sounds amusing at the expense of our dear Marshal. I would love to hear every detail."
Clay sighed. "Of course you would."
So Mariel related a story from a life they would never know as a trio, and if Vellum was jealous, nothing in his handsome, smiling face revealed it.
"I may have looked like a buffoon," Clay said when she finished, "but I reckon I did as well as any man could have under the circumstances."
Vellum seemed intrigued by that. "You believe men have no business knowing about women's fashions?"
"How could I have?"
"You've had previous lovers. A mother. Perhaps a sister? Your ignorance is your own."
Mariel hid a smile behind her hand as Clay made a sound indicating his annoyance.
"And what do you know about women's fashions?" he challenged the vampire.
Vellum shrugged casually. "I know that the thickest fabric is the most tiresome to wash but will endure the longest. I know that the wrong color gingham can make a woman too pale, and that smaller flower patterns are more flattering than larger ones. I know that lace is beautiful but can chafe against bare skin. I know that too many buttons can make a man go mad."
He said the last with a faraway look, as though he were remembering that effort.
"Were you ever married, Vellum?" Mariel asked gently.
His gaze cleared. "No, Mariel. But I have been in love."
Clay's hand tightened around hers. "What happened to her?"
Vellum sighed, as if weary. "She hung herself when she learned what I had become. She understood, even if you can't, that life with a vampire is impossible."
~~~~~
On they rode, the mountain grew ever nearer, like foreboding rising up to greet them. Mariel much preferred the sight of Scar Tooth during the day, in the hour or so before she fell asleep. At any other time the mountain was colored by sunset and appeared to drip with blood. Or else it hunched as it did now, black and malevolent-looking.
She found her appetite waning as they traveled. Clay hadn't been able to locate saberwolves this close to the mountain and had switched to hunting down the rock goats whose meat was gamey and chewy. Mariel tossed her half-eaten piece in the fire. Then, after checking that Clay was busy tending to their horses, she set off to find their wayward companion.
Mariel spotted Vellum about twenty yards out from camp, staring at Scar Tooth as though facing off against an opponent. They would reach the mountain in another day or so, and she could tell that she wasn’t the only one nervous about that fact.
Ahead lay only danger. Mariel understood that Vellum needed vengeance, but it scared her that this was the only way the vampire felt he could find it. The creature who had turned Vellum into a vampire was older than he was and likely more experienced. Did Vellum plan to set a trap for him? Was Vellum a skillful fighter? Did vampires even fight as humans did? She was afraid to ask him any details in case the answers were ones she couldn't live with.
"Mariel."
She wasn't surprised that he'd heard her approach. He had excellent hearing, something she and Clay had learned to their chagrin and occasionally still forgot. Fortunately the only times Vellum had caught them talking about him were when they were discussing being intimate with him, in which case the outcome was always positive.
"I don't want to bother you if you'd prefer to be alone," Mariel said as she drew abreast of him.
"No one ever prefers to be alone, Mariel."
Vellum was smiling faintly. The moonlight adored him and Mariel could sympathize. His elegance, so striking in the rough and tumble territories, compelled the eye to devour him. But Vellum was no pretty dandy. There was a hardness to him, an alienness that stiffened your spine when you first came upon him. Mariel had once been intimidated by it. Now, she was only aroused by it. Fascinated by it.
However, had she met him as a human she would have loved him even then. Maybe moreso, because that faint air of melancholy that she sometimes sensed from him would have been absent.
"We don't have to go on," she blurted. She winced and checked his reaction, but he didn't appear to be angry.
"You don't," he said calmly, "but I do. It's the only thing I can do."
"Wrong. You can stay here with Clay and me. We'll turn our back on the mountain and never look at it or think of it again."
He turned away from the monolith to study her. He was no longer human, but he still possessed human emotions despite what he claimed. That was what Mariel believed, anyway, when he looked at her this way. She saw longing in his obsidian eyes, and she doubted vampires longed for anything except more blood. Clay had fed Vellum earlier tonight, so he couldn’t be hungry.
But he was hungry for companionship, and maybe understanding.
"I have to find him, Mariel. He stole my life."
"If you can't find him," Mariel said hesitantly, "what will you do?"
"Keep looking. I have all the time in the world."
Mariel licked her lips. "What if Clay and I asked you to put off your hunt? For the time that he and I are alive? After we're gone, you can resume your hunt then."
Something flashed in his eyes, something she recognized and was shocked by.
She reached up and cupped his smooth cheek. He was built like alabaster, firm and hard and impossibly polished. But there was warmth beneath his skin now that he had fed. The blood that ran through his veins belonged to her and to Clay. They gave him life. He was theirs more than he realized.
"You're afraid of us dying," she murmured, searching his eyes. "That's why you ke
pt pushing us away."
"I'm afraid of nothing," he said flatly.
But he was lying. He feared losing more lovers. It was a declaration of love without words, and it made Mariel's heart ache for him. He would walk the earth forever, and for most of that time he would do it alone.
She rose up and touched her lips to his. They were warm with Clay's blood. Kissing those lips meant kissing both of the men she cared for. And when she eased her tongue between them, the heat in Vellum's mouth came from Clay, too.
"I'm afraid," she admitted to him, pulling away just enough to see his expression. "I'm terrified of what you have planned because I don't know all of it. But I'm trying not to think about it because I believe that this moment here, with you and Clay, is more important. This is real, Vellum, and it's happening now, and it brings me more joy than anything has in my life."
His hands found her waist. One slid behind her, fingers running down her spine and inspiring her to arch into him. He cupped her buttock and pulled her in tight.
"This is real and important to me, too, Mariel."
"You will only have us now, in this moment," she said softly. "Why waste a second of it? Why deny yourself the pleasure? The love?"
His brows drew down in a rare display of uncertainty.
"The mountain will always be there," she went on. She kissed the strong line of his jaw. "Your fate will always be waiting. Please, Vellum. Stay with me and Clay. Be here. Be with us."
He cupped her chin and held her in place as he slanted his mouth across hers. He was never rough with her, but this time she felt urgency in his kiss, a not-so subtle demand. In his hot tongue that filled her mouth she felt the need for possession and claiming. Was he leaving his mark because he still intended to leave, or because he agreed that he shouldn't take what they shared for granted?
"Mariel," he groaned, breaking the kiss.
He buried his face against her hair and held her crushed against him. She ran her hand over his dark hair and rubbed across his broad back. She looked up at the jagged silhouette of Scar Tooth Mountain and realized that she faced it. Vellum had put his back to the mountain to embrace her.
She chose to believe it was a conscious decision and that the terrible vengeance Vellum sought had been put off for the time being. She clutched Vellum tighter, feeling protective of him. From her lips went up a silent prayer: that between she and Clay they could keep their vampire facing toward love and life, with death just a shadow behind them.
"I'll think about it," he told her.
She nearly sobbed with relief.
That night, the three of them made love in a way they hadn't before. It wasn't as much about touching each other to reach release, but about exploration. About learning what brought pleasure, and what inspired need. It was what lovers did, Mariel knew, and her heart swelled. It meant Vellum was going to stay with them.
They opted to remain in camp rather than ride until sunrise, giving them time to play and love and tease. Mariel, pleasantly exhausted by her two lovers, fell asleep a few hours earlier than normal, with Clay and Vellum lying warm on either side of her.
When something woke her sometime later, she noticed that only one of her arms was warm.
Vellum had left them for the mountain.
12
Mariel cocked the gun. "I said no."
Clay threw up his hands and began to pace. "You're mad, Mariel. This is what Vellum wanted. Don't you care about that? Or is this relationship based only on your needs?"
The question stung, but Mariel was determined. "This is about helping him. He's on his own. He can't face that vampire without us, Clay."
Clay's smile was grim. "He wouldn't appreciate hearing you say such a thing, you know. He may be a vampire, but he was once a man. He'll take care of his business on his own. He doesn't want your interference."
"Then why won't you go?"
"Because he told me not to."
To her frustration, she could tell he was telling the truth. She lowered the gun. Clay stopped pacing and stepped up to her. He carefully folded his hand over hers and the weapon.
"Sometimes you have to accept that a situation is beyond your control," he told her softly as he took his gun from her and holstered it. "Vellum knows what he's doing. Or at least, he knows what he wants."
"And he could be wrong. Just as we were wrong to stay away for so long."
He drew her against him and kissed her forehead. "Ah, beautiful, you're going to have to let this go. Vellum will return to us. He's tough and he's strange, but he loves you. I know he does."
"He cares for you, too," she murmured as she wrapped her arms around him.
"Maybe."
Sighing, Mariel turned her head to look at the mountain, which didn't seem so daunting in the light of day. "How long do we wait before we're allowed to become worried?"
"Hopefully, we don't reach that point."
~~~~~
Mariel reached that point eight days later.
"I'm tired of eating goat," she declared. She rose to her feet, her eyes on the mountain. "We need to go."
Clay stared sightlessly at their fire before tossing the remains of his own meal into the flames. "It's too soon," he said without much passion. Truth was, he was tired of sitting around, waiting on the vampire. Inaction had never really been Clay's strong suit and waiting here while Vellum potentially killed himself was nothing short of torture.
Her shadow fell over him. "Clay, please. You want to go as badly as I do."
"Eight days is nothing," he muttered, avoiding her gaze. "He might not even have found the other vampire yet."
"Or, he's lying somewhere, dying from lack of blood."
"Anything is possible, but he asked us to stay here and wait for him, Mariel. So that's what we're doing."
"Until when?"
He tilted his head to look up at her. "Until you and I agree that it's been too long."
She wanted to fight him. He could tell that in every tense inch of her. But he also respected that she had a good head on her shoulders. He waited silently, and as he'd hoped, she eventually groaned and flopped onto the ground beside him. She rested her head on his shoulder.
"I hate waiting."
"I know," he said softly.
"I'm so worried for him that it's making me ill."
He wrapped an arm around her shoulders. "A few more days, Mariel. Respect his wishes and trust that he knows what he's doing. If he still doesn't show up soon we'll saddle up and we won't stop until we find him. I promise you."
She nodded and sighed.
"You're quite the firecracker," he observed with a smile. "I feel safer having you as my partner than any burly Marshal."
She laughed. "It's because of the trousers. They make me tough." She stretched her legs out and admired them. "Plus, they're very comfortable. I think you men have been keeping us in skirts because you didn't want us to know how freeing these feel."
"More like it's easier to flip your skirts up then pull these down," Clay teased as he ran a finger up the front of her thigh. "We're much in favor of expediency when it comes to lovely ladies' charms."
"Any more expediency and we're going to be too sore to ride," she said with a laugh. She moved around, straddling him while facing him. Her sunny face brought a fond smile to his. "You interested in something besides goat meat?"
He arched a brow. "Now that's a question."
She grinned when she picked up his meaning. "I wasn't referring to me, you fiend. I was talking about food. A stew, to be exact. Something new, perhaps?"
"Goodness, but a stew sounds wonderful," he groaned, heartfelt. He vowed that once they left the mountains he'd never eat goat again. "But what would go into this stew of yours?"
"We'll have to be creative. I've seen squirrels and some sort of shelled animal the size of my fist peeking every once in a while from between the rocks."
"Crawlups," he told her. "Never tasted 'em, though. Could be worse than goat."
"Nothi
ng is worse than goat." She glanced to the horizon. "We'll need to be quick about it. The sun will be setting soon."
He lifted her off him and stood. "Here." He pulled out his gun and handed it to her. "I know you're familiar with using it," he said with a smirk. "See what you can do about the crawlups. I'll gather more wood and see about finding some vegetables for your stew."
With a wide grin, she accepted the gun. "Next, I'll be doing my business standing up."
He groaned. "Please never say that again."
Her laughter trailed her as she leaped across the rocks, as agile as any goat, soon disappearing from sight.
He stared after his, his smile fading, replaced by worry. He wasn't sure how much longer he could keep her satisfied and not wanting to go after Vellum. In truth, Clay didn't know when he would deem the wait "too long". Vellum hadn't indicated how far up the mountain his quarry was, or under what circumstances Vellum would find the other vampire. Did he live alone? With other vampires? Was he dug in deep or continually on the move, setting up temporary camps?
"I should have interrogated the son of a gun," he muttered to himself. "Treated him like a criminal."
Vellum would have been angry, but at least Clay wouldn't have been where he was now, full of questions and dealing with a headstrong woman who was going to trample him with her horse soon.
With a rueful shake of the head, he began to wander the area in search of edible roots and other foodstuffs. He hadn't had much luck by the time the sun set. He hoped Mariel was faring better. He'd heard her fire twice earlier on, then make another two shots, and recently, a single shot. He figured all of that was a good sign. She would likely have emptied the chamber in one go had she missed her target. At least he could claim he'd gathered plenty of wood to heat up their stew, even if said stew would be a carnivorous affair.
Back at the camp, he stoked the fire. He heard Mariel's light step a few minutes later and looked up from whittling a branch to watch her emerge from the darkness, a triumphant grin on her face.
"I'd like you to guess how many crawlups I've got behind my back," she told him as she entered the corona of firelight.
