Clay cursed and pressed the heel of his hand to his groin, where his cock throbbed in time with his rapidly beating heart.
Vellum moved, a rippling of the night. One moment he was on the other side of the fire. The next, he towered over Mariel and Clay.
"Beg me for relief," he whispered.
Clay groaned beneath his breath.
Beside him, he heard Mariel lie back. Her voice floated through the air like dust motes. "Please, Vellum. Please help me with this ache."
Clay closed his eyes. He fisted his hands. He could feel Vellum staring at him.
"Go ahead," he finally croaked. "Help her."
The night swooped down.
~~~~~
As the days turned into weeks, Mariel was convinced that by the time they reached Everton Fort she'd be more experienced than any prostitute in the Empire.
She didn't think this in a self-demeaning way; rather, she was proud and happy with how often she, Clay, and Vellum made love either in pairs or with her as a focus. Nothing about what they did was ugly or humiliating. Mariel was convinced that it was beautiful, and she was sure her lovers felt the same.
At times, when it was only her and Vellum together, she thought she glimpsed something like love in his dark eyes. Certainly he was obsessed with them, and she was sure the feeling was returned. But she was certain the vampire felt more for them than that, and that the human inside him was trying to push past the creature he'd become to make himself known to them.
When she lay with Clay, she was absolutely certain of the Marshal's love. He made no secret of it, expressing it in words and in touch, making her blush and feel giddy in a way she'd always dreamed. His forthrightness sometimes inspired him and Vellum to compete against each other, as each male tried their hardest to make Mariel respond the most passionately. Being trapped between the two determined alpha males was both a pleasure and the most exquisite torture imaginable.
The fort was less than a week away, though, and it seemed the more Mariel enjoyed herself, the more she dreaded finally reaching Everton. Once at the fort, Mariel would be escorted by Clay to testify at Rhody Beaufort's trial. Vellum would continue his journey without them, feeding off desert animals until he reached Scar Tooth Mountain. The three of them would likely never see each other again, and even though that was how it must be on account of Vellum's vampirism, it made her stomach sore all the same. Mariel was a dreamer, but this was one dream that had to end, and she hated knowing that.
The sun sank toward the horizon. Mariel watched its progress, more than a little maudlin, while Clay finished packing away their camp in anticipation of Vellum waking.
When he finally came up behind her, sliding his strong arms around her waist and resting his chin on her shoulder, he asked, "What's on your mind, beautiful lady? I can tell you're troubled."
"I'm thinking impossible thoughts, Clay."
"Such as what? Tell me." He chuckled. "In case you hadn't noticed, I've been open to a lot of seemingly impossible things lately."
She smiled, her eyes on the spill of the sun. "I was thinking about how it's unfair that humans are so afraid of vampires."
"People fear what they don't know or understand, Mariel. Think about the hysteria that arises whenever the wind ghosts blow in, for example. Once, I investigated a man who'd shot himself just because he couldn't get to shelter before the gusts began. He was terrified he'd get swept up by a ghost. The medicine men say the ghosts are real, but I'm not convinced. I think it's only strong wind. But there are towns in Mountain Sky that make offerings to the wind ghosts every fall in the hopes that their skirts aren't lifted."
"Fear of wind ghosts is old-fashioned and besides, it doesn't inspire people to arm themselves the way talk of nightwalkers does."
"That's because nightwalkers—vampires—are real."
Mariel turned in his arms. "What if people met Vellum? What if we introduced him to small groups at a time so they didn't get worked up? If they could talk to him and see that he's just like us—"
"But he's not just like us," Clay said somberly. "Mariel, I'm on your side about this. My opinion of Vellum has been flipped on its head. But the truth of the matter is he drinks our blood every day. He sleeps in a coffin—"
"It's not a coffin."
"You thought so at first, and other people will, too. I'm all for integration and people getting along. Hell, half my job is stopping people from fighting because of misunderstandings. But this is something else. If we brought Vellum into Everton Fort, which I know is what you're considering, you'll only ensure that he's staked out and burned."
She was horrified, but she had to admit that he was right. Unless they were given the opportunity of time that she and Clay had been given, people wouldn't trust a vampire long enough to exchange ten words with one. The fear and mystery were just too great.