Between the Marshal & the Vampire(50)

"Sometimes you have to accept that a situation is beyond your control," he told her softly as he took his gun from her and holstered it. "Vellum knows what he's doing. Or at least, he knows what he wants."

"And he could be wrong. Just as we were wrong to stay away for so long."

He drew her against him and kissed her forehead. "Ah, beautiful, you're going to have to let this go. Vellum will return to us. He's tough and he's strange, but he loves you. I know he does."

"He cares for you, too," she murmured as she wrapped her arms around him.

"Maybe."

Sighing, Mariel turned her head to look at the mountain, which didn't seem so daunting in the light of day. "How long do we wait before we're allowed to become worried?"

"Hopefully, we don't reach that point."

~~~~~

Mariel reached that point eight days later.

"I'm tired of eating goat," she declared. She rose to her feet, her eyes on the mountain. "We need to go."

Clay stared sightlessly at their fire before tossing the remains of his own meal into the flames. "It's too soon," he said without much passion. Truth was, he was tired of sitting around, waiting on the vampire. Inaction had never really been Clay's strong suit and waiting here while Vellum potentially killed himself was nothing short of torture.

Her shadow fell over him. "Clay, please. You want to go as badly as I do."

"Eight days is nothing," he muttered, avoiding her gaze. "He might not even have found the other vampire yet."

"Or, he's lying somewhere, dying from lack of blood."

"Anything is possible, but he asked us to stay here and wait for him, Mariel. So that's what we're doing."

"Until when?"

He tilted his head to look up at her. "Until you and I agree that it's been too long."

She wanted to fight him. He could tell that in every tense inch of her. But he also respected that she had a good head on her shoulders. He waited silently, and as he'd hoped, she eventually groaned and flopped onto the ground beside him. She rested her head on his shoulder.

"I hate waiting."

"I know," he said softly.

"I'm so worried for him that it's making me ill."

He wrapped an arm around her shoulders. "A few more days, Mariel. Respect his wishes and trust that he knows what he's doing. If he still doesn't show up soon we'll saddle up and we won't stop until we find him. I promise you."

She nodded and sighed.

"You're quite the firecracker," he observed with a smile. "I feel safer having you as my partner than any burly Marshal."

She laughed. "It's because of the trousers. They make me tough." She stretched her legs out and admired them. "Plus, they're very comfortable. I think you men have been keeping us in skirts because you didn't want us to know how freeing these feel."

"More like it's easier to flip your skirts up then pull these down," Clay teased as he ran a finger up the front of her thigh. "We're much in favor of expediency when it comes to lovely ladies' charms."

"Any more expediency and we're going to be too sore to ride," she said with a laugh. She moved around, straddling him while facing him. Her sunny face brought a fond smile to his. "You interested in something besides goat meat?"

He arched a brow. "Now that's a question."

She grinned when she picked up his meaning. "I wasn't referring to me, you fiend. I was talking about food. A stew, to be exact. Something new, perhaps?"

"Goodness, but a stew sounds wonderful," he groaned, heartfelt. He vowed that once they left the mountains he'd never eat goat again. "But what would go into this stew of yours?"

"We'll have to be creative. I've seen squirrels and some sort of shelled animal the size of my fist peeking every once in a while from between the rocks."

"Crawlups," he told her. "Never tasted 'em, though. Could be worse than goat."

"Nothing is worse than goat." She glanced to the horizon. "We'll need to be quick about it. The sun will be setting soon."

He lifted her off him and stood. "Here." He pulled out his gun and handed it to her. "I know you're familiar with using it," he said with a smirk. "See what you can do about the crawlups. I'll gather more wood and see about finding some vegetables for your stew."

With a wide grin, she accepted the gun. "Next, I'll be doing my business standing up."

He groaned. "Please never say that again."

Her laughter trailed her as she leaped across the rocks, as agile as any goat, soon disappearing from sight.

He stared after his, his smile fading, replaced by worry. He wasn't sure how much longer he could keep her satisfied and not wanting to go after Vellum. In truth, Clay didn't know when he would deem the wait "too long". Vellum hadn't indicated how far up the mountain his quarry was, or under what circumstances Vellum would find the other vampire. Did he live alone? With other vampires? Was he dug in deep or continually on the move, setting up temporary camps?

"I should have interrogated the son of a gun," he muttered to himself. "Treated him like a criminal."