Between the Marshal & the Vampire(35)

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.

"I don't want to leave him," she told Clay.

But the reaction she'd expected—agreement and sympathy—didn't happen. Instead, Clay tensed up, and an invisible wall went up between them. Clay lowered his arms and stepped back a pace.

"That's a mighty big decision," he said, his tone neutral, as though he were speaking to a stranger.

"Can you blame me? The connection I have with him—"

He held up his hand. "No, I understand. Trust me, I do. I've been here all along, Mariel. I've got eyes."

She frowned, realizing what was happening. "I'm not choosing him over you."

"Aren't you? If he can't come into Everton Fort that means you stay out here with him."

She struggled. "That's not—but surely—"

"No, Mariel." This time his voice hardened. "It's the only way."

"I prefer to believe there are always options, Clay," Vellum drawled from behind them.

Clay whirled. For the first time in nearly three weeks he reacted as a Marshal, his hands flying to his empty holster. Vellum's gaze flicked down to the action, then lifted slowly to Clay's face. Something dark moved behind the vampire's eyes.

"Is there a problem, Marshal?"

"I want my gun back."

Vellum didn't flinch beneath Clay's hard tone. "I told you I'd return it to you once we reached the fort."

"We're nearly there, Vellum." Clay narrowed his eyes in a way Mariel didn't like. "Or are you saying you don't trust me after all we've done?"

"And we have done a lot, haven't we, Marshal?" Vellum cocked a dark eyebrow. "But maybe not quite enough."

Mariel didn't like the sound of that. She squeezed between the two alpha males. "What are you doing? We're all on the same side. What are you going to do? Fight?"

"I want my gun," Clay stated, ignoring her as he attempted to stare down the vampire.

"I'll give it to you," Vellum said pleasantly. "After I've fed from you."

"No, feed from me," Mariel argued. "It's my turn."

Vellum's smile was a sliver. "Don't be greedy, Mariel. Let's show the good Marshal some love. After all, he's asking for it."