Between the Marshal & the Vampire(20)

"Oh, Vellum," Mariel whispered. "It wasn't your fault."

"Indirectly, it was. I should have killed the vampire who turned me, but I was young as a vampire and I hadn't realized what he intended when my family came for him. I sat by, thinking he would warn them off, and let it happen. But afterwards, I should have done something."

"Is there any kind of justice system in place for vampires?" Clay asked, sounding reluctant to know more, as though he didn't want to care about their kind. But he was a man of the law. He would have a deep sense of righteousness and Mariel guessed that even vampire injustice bothered him.

"Only the most basic and barbaric: if you feel wronged, you take care of the matter yourself."

"Frontier justice for vampires. Lovely."

"We're little more than animals, hmm?" Vellum's question was dark with bitterness.

"I haven't been impressed so far," Clay said steadily.

Vellum shook his head, his dark hair curling above his duster. "Vampires are intelligent beings who want to co-exist. We need to feed, and we are aware that the prospect of it frightens you, so we do what we can to make it…bearable. But we can't change our natures. To live, we must feed. Just as you must shoot the deer."

Bearable. Hardly the word Mariel would use to describe the experience of feeding Vellum. However, she wasn't so sure she wanted Clay to know that she had reached orgasm both times that the vampire drank from her.

"Men will never accept you among us," Clay muttered as he stared out at the darkness. "We have nothing in common."

"That may be so. Which is why we endeavor to remain in Shadow Valley Territory. My excursion into your land is unusual. But I have business in Scar Tooth and because of the river monsters in Wickedly, I have to travel through Mountain Sky to reach the mountain. Had the attack on the train not happened, you would never have known of my existence. I'm sorry that you're uncomfortable. But we agreed to this deal."

They hadn't had much of a choice in the matter, but Clay didn't point that out. He seemed tired of the fight, as though thinking of his dead friend had drained him. Mariel hoped that seeing Vellum feed from her didn't distress Clay and bring up bad memories for him. Perhaps it would be wise to feed Vellum out of view of the Marshal, to spare him any reminders of the past.

However, Clay had a different idea.

"Next time you feed, you drink from me," he said flatly. "No arguments. I want to know what you're subjecting Mariel to. I want to see for myself that you're not hurting her."

Though Mariel inwardly protested—she'd wanted to delay having Vellum feed from Clay for as long as possible in the interests of peace—Vellum inclined his head. "Very well. I'll gladly do everything to you that I do to her."

Mariel's eyes widened, but neither male looked over at her. Should she warn Clay? Or did Vellum not mean what he'd said in the literal sense?

Traveling through the dead of night was disorienting. Mariel was trapped in her head throughout most of the "morning", afraid to engage in conversation while coyotes and saberwolves paralleled their movement. When they finally stopped to stretch their legs and give the horses a break, Mariel wandered over to where Vellum stood motionless, admiring the star-illuminated desert. Clay had gone for a walk, his head down, hands stuffed into the pockets of his trousers, spurs jangling quietly. He was troubled, and Mariel was sorry for it.

"He's a good man," she felt compelled to tell Vellum, in case the vampire considered the Marshal a potential enemy. "He lives to protect people."

"I don't doubt that, Mariel. He could easily present trouble to my kind, but I can tell he's trying to come to grips with our situation. For your sake."

"For all our sake's," she argued.

"He's attracted to you. You resist that attraction. Why?"

Mariel opened her mouth to protest the claim that she was resisting anything, but forgot what she was going to say as she studied the vampire closer. Vellum wasn't admiring only the desert.

"You want him, too," she said bluntly. "Not as food. As a lover."

"Does it surprise you?" the vampire asked mildly, turning to face her.

She thought it over. "Yes and no. Clay is…handsome. I understand the appeal. But vampires don't need to take on lovers. You don't procreate."

He looked amused, which made him appear younger. She guessed that he was at most mid-thirties. Did vampires age, or had he remained at this age since he was forcibly turned?

"Is that the only time you give in to your urges?" he asked her with a knowing smile. "When you feel the need to procreate? Because I hate to disappoint you, but vampires cannot reproduce. You won't be bearing my child."

She blushed hotly but refused to be cowed. "But he's a man. It can't be…easy."

"Oh, it can be very easy when you know how to do it." Vellum's grin was filthy, harkening back to his life as a human. As handsome as he was, he must have had a lover or a wife. Where were they now?

"I'll take pity on you, Mariel, and give you the answer you seek. Sex for vampires is mostly about power. If I were to mount the handsome Marshal, I would be exerting my power over him and that is a delicious thought. It…arouses me."