Between the Marshal & the Vampire

Riding by the light of the stars and a cloud-covered sliver of moon could be considered romantic by some. Clay was the sort to find it so, though his choice of riding partners would have differed drastically. Oh, he was more than happy to have Mariel with him, but the vampire, Vellum, put a considerable damper on thoughts of romance.

Still, the situation could have been worse. Clay was apt to look on the bright side of things even if he was a realist. It was the only way to sleep at night after seeing the victims of criminal acts and after pulling the trigger himself. When you saw a child no older than seven strung up in a tree alongside his mother and father you developed your defenses quickly, or else you became like the small-town sheriffs he came across all too regularly, who had a look in their eyes that said they didn't expect to do any good and hoped only not to make things worse.

Clay didn't ever want to give up hope that he could make a difference in the world, even if that world included vampires. Problem was, now that he'd met Vellum, his idea for how he could make a difference—by eradicating the creatures—had taken a solid blow to the chin.

He puffed out his cheeks and released his breath with a sigh, then regretted it when Mariel glanced worriedly at him. He knew what she thought, that he dwelled on Janie's death and wanted revenge. That had been true up until today, and he couldn't help feeling guilty that he'd changed his mind so quickly.

But what would revenge do for Janie, especially inflicted against a different vampire? The unfortunate and unsatisfying truth was that the dead found no pleasure in revenge obtained on their behalf. Revenge was for the living, but Clay had run across far too many people who'd met their own deaths trying to settle scores. Or, they had achieved what they'd set out to and then discovered life didn't magically improve. If anything, the fire that had driven them blew out, leaving them as the husks of the men they had once been.

Clay had no intention of killing Vellum—assuming the opportunity ever presented itself—not unless the vampire hurt Mariel. Then, well, maybe Clay would end up like those men he'd encountered and nothing would allow him to rest until blood was spilled. Hopefully it wouldn't come to that. He had a vested interest in seeing him and Mariel make it to Everton Fort alive. Putting Rhody Beaufort away had become a secondary concern of his. The stress and the life-threatening situation had underlined yet again the truth: life out here was short. Clay had feelings for Mariel and he wanted a chance to explore them with her. Though he hadn't been a Marshal for longer than a decade and was still a young man, he'd had enough of the job if it stood in the way of him having a strong, beautiful woman to come home to on a regular basis.

Hell, maybe the two of us can buy our own airship and captain it together.

It was a ridiculous fantasy. He knew nothing of flying. Then again, neither did Mariel, and yet she'd fantasized about it. Maybe a dream didn't need to be grounded in any sort of reality. Maybe it just needed to make you excited. In which case, he possessed a mighty nice dream about a dark-haired woman in blue gingham.

They rode through the night, until Clay sensed that daylight was but an hour away. Vellum had already begun turning his head this way and that, searching for a place that would provide suitable cover for Clay and Mariel. Surrounding them were Joshua trees, though, and eventually Vellum made for a small copse of them.

"Best we can do," he said apologetically to Mariel.

"I can drape a blanket," Clay spoke up as he dismounted, "provide us plenty of shade."

"I was counting on your ingenuity, Marshal, thank you."

Vellum's compliment, like previous ones he'd given Clay, made him uneasy, though he couldn't say why. Part of it was because the vampire's polite manner flew in the face of what Clay had always believed of the creatures. The other part, well…wasn't worth looking into.

In minutes Clay had set up their camp, facing north so they'd get the most shade. Vellum didn't drag his sleeping box near. Clay guessed that the tar inside prevented any sunlight from piercing the cracks.

Once the bedrolls had been laid out and Mariel and he were in position, Clay asked Vellum as he kneeled beside them with the ropes, "You really feel you need to keep us tied up?"

"Just this last time, Marshal," Vellum replied with a polite smile.

"Why? What's going to change?"

Vellum didn't reply as he wound the rope around Clay's ankles. He'd let him keep his boots this time, which was something.

Clay wished he could read the other male, but Vellum was as revealing as a rain puddle. You only saw yourself reflected back when you looked into his dark eyes.

"Lie back, Marshal," Vellum said quietly once he'd finished tying Clay's ankles. He placed a hand flat on Clay's chest and gently exerted pressure.

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