Between the Marshal & the Vampire(11)

In the distance, Mariel could just make out their disabled train, glowing like a line of hanging lanterns in the dark. She wondered what the other passengers would do and how long help would take to reach them.

"Why are you going to Scar Tooth Mountain?" she asked Vellum as they crossed the moonlit desert.

"I have business there."

She frowned at the unhelpful answer. "What business could you have in uninhabited mountains?"

"Who says they're uninhabited?"

She wished she knew more geography. Her sheltered life in Willowtown was more than an embarrassment; it was a hindrance.

"Why are you dragging this box with us?"

"Haven't you figured it out yet, Mariel?" Vellum glanced over his shoulder at her. The moonlight highlighted the aristocratic smoothness of his face. "It's where I sleep when the sun is out."

She couldn't help glancing at Clay, who'd tensed, causing his horse to shake its head.

"You won't be able to kill me while I'm in there," Vellum continued, almost pleasantly, "so I suggest not wasting energy trying to come up with a scenario in which you'd succeed."

"Scar Tooth is over a month's travel. How do you expect to keep us alive if you're going to be bleeding us?" Clay demanded. He rubbed his free hand fretfully over the empty gun holster lying along his hip.

"I'm very experienced at feeding from men. And women, too, of course. Don't concern yourself, Marshal. I won't drain you dry. I have a vested interest in your continued good health."

"That makes me feel so much better," Clay said dryly.

"I'm pleased to hear that. I want you in a good mood, Marshal. If we're pleasant to each other, this journey will go that much faster."

Clay subsided into grumbling, but Mariel was fascinated by their captor-host. Who would have thought a terrifying monster who subsisted on the blood of men and women could be so polite and intelligent? It made no sense to her. She dared to air a theory that had begun to form in her head.

"Were you once an ordinary man?" she asked him.

Vellum didn't turn around, but she heard his quiet laughter. "Yes, Mariel. I was once ordinary. A long time ago. Now, as you see, I'm extraordinary."

"By choice?" she asked, watching him closely.

"What is choice but the illusion that life has fallen into place to allow us options? Nothing of this life is a choice. We're all fated to walk the paths we walk. Even you and the Marshal were always destined to ride with me. Resisting will do you no good."

"So you remember what it feels like to be human," Mariel pressed.

Vellum turned, putting his face in profile to her. "I remember nothing of that time."

~~~~~

They rode for hours, until the adrenaline from the attack and their failed escape drained completely from Mariel's veins, leaving her exhausted and swaying in her saddle.

"We need a break," she heard Clay say. "She's about to fall from her horse."

Mariel straightened up. "No, I'm fine."

"She can ride with you, Marshal," Vellum said. "No breaks until sunrise. If we're all on the same sleep cycle we'll all enjoy each other's company that much more."

"You don't need her," Clay insisted. He held something in his hand that flickered brightly in the moonlight. A knife? A small pistol?

"I need you both, for reasons both practical and not," Vellum said.

"What does that mean?" Clay's horse danced sideways beneath his agitation.

"You'll find out soon enough, Marshal."

"The Empire will come after you for this. You realize that, don't you?"

"Do you really want your colleagues to pursue me, knowing what you do of my abilities?"

She watched Clay stare down at whatever it was he held in his hand. He shook his head. "No, I guess not."

"I knew you were a smart man when I first laid eyes on you, Marshal."

Vellum's tone had been free of mockery, but Clay's mouth still twisted downwards at the compliment.

He moved his fingers, allowing Mariel to glimpse what he held. When she realized what the dark stain on it was, her heart settled heavily in her chest.

"He seemed to be a good man," she murmured, "from what I knew of him."

"He was a very good man," Clay agreed quietly as he stroked his thumb over the face of the silver star badge. Bits of dried blood flaked off the metal and were carried off into the night. "He took me under his wing when I first joined the Marshals. I trusted him with my life."

"Was he married? Did he have a family?"

Clay shook his head. "Not many Marshals have family. It's not encouraged because of the danger. Darrell had a sister, though." He pocketed the star. "I'll give this to her, assuming the nightwalker keeps his word."

"I'm better at keeping my word than you apparently are, Marshal. And if you call me 'nightwalker' once more, I will tie you to your saddle."

"The horses need a rest," Clay snapped as he glared angrily at the back of the vampire's head.

For long minutes, Vellum didn't reply. Then he nodded decisively and brought his horse to a halt. "I agree."

The thought of kicking her horse into a gallop and racing off flashed through Mariel's mind when Vellum dismounted, but the fantasy didn't linger in her head for long. She and Clay would gain a small head start, but eventually Vellum would catch up to them, either on horseback or by foot. Maybe he could fly. She had no idea what vampires were fully capable of. So with a small groan of discomfort, she slid out of the saddle, as did Clay.