Between the Marshal & the Vampire(6)

Failure wasn't something he experienced often. Mariel had teased him about his reputation and he'd been happy to take the ribbing, but the plain truth was, the rumors about him were true. He was a top Marshal, always getting his man or seeing his charge safely to wherever he was escorting them. Escorting Mariel Johnston was supposed to be just another job he successfully completed. But the woman and now the danger she faced were proving to be more than he'd anticipated, and that irked him, because Clay wanted to impress her. Maybe more than he'd ever wanted to impress a woman.

zing!

He ducked and cursed himself for daydreaming, no matter how pretty Mariel was. He'd be of no use to either of them if he ended up with a bullet between the eyes.

"Clay!"

Darrell, on horseback, raced alongside the crippled train, firing expertly into the circling mass of Beaufort's men. The older Marshal took out a man and clipped another, forcing him to drop his gun.

Maybe we got a chance, Clay thought as he expertly reloaded with one hand. "You take the south!" he shouted to Darrell.

The other Marshal galloped into the darkness, reappearing seconds later farther down the train, gun blazing, as he tried to pin the bandits between him and Clay.

"We're taking the girl, Marshal!" shouted one of the men as he took aim at Clay and fired.

Clay and his horse dodged the shot. "You're attacking Empire Marshals! Penalty for drawing blood is death by hanging. How about you boys turn around and head on home."

"We outnumber you, Marshal," another bandit shouted back. "Seems the smart thing would be for you and your partner to back off and let us take care of this nice and quick, like. No one else needs to be hurt."

"Except my charge, is that right?"

"Just the way it is, Marshal."

"Rhody Beaufort's turned into such a coward he's gotta go after women now?" Clay shot back, unable to keep the anger from his voice.

"You know we can't leave here until we've done what we need to, Marshal. Ain't nothin' personal."

"Sure it's not," Clay muttered to himself and ducked as a bullet whizzed overhead.

He squinted through the dust raised by all the riders, trying to find a target. He could hear the passengers screaming on the train. Was Mariel petrified? Was she cursing him for being a liar?

I'll do my best, Mariel. I gave you my word.

He took aim and shot down another bandit. Though he didn't like killing, he would do his best to eliminate every last one of Beaufort's gang. Because if even one of them got their hands on Mariel, they'd do worse than take her life.

~~~~~

It was as though the night itself came alive and attacked Mariel. She staggered backwards but the night swarmed out of the open crate and followed her, bearing her to the ground with a weight she hadn't expected of shadow.

Her back hit the ground and the night landed atop her, pinning her limbs in place and turning her face to the side with pale fingers. Ice seared her neck a moment before agony pierced the side of her throat.

Her eyes went wide at the excruciating pain that tore into her neck. The pain was blinding, like two hot pokers stabbing into her neck. Worse still was the sucking motion, as though her lifeblood was being pulled out of her body through her veins.

Which it was.

Nightwalker! flashed through her panicked mind. Never in a hundred years had she expected to come across the monsters who roamed the desert in Shadow Valley Territory. Rumor said they were a race of abominations that had risen from man's attempt to find immortality and walk the Heaven Bridge and back. Though Mountain Sky shared an armed border with Shadow Valley, she'd never heard of nightwalkers crossing over. Remaining in their territory was the only reason the creatures were allowed to live in peace.

Well, maybe not the only reason. The monsters were preternaturally strong and besides that they were just plain terrifying. Mariel herself was petrified, screaming only in her head as her life fled her. She would be dead in a matter of seconds at the rate her blood was being sucked out of her.

"Please," she managed to choke out. "I don't want to die…" I wasted too many years of my life. I want a second chance!

Now, she'd never know if she could be good at anything other than baking a pie or sewing a tight stitch. Now I'll never know what I could have been had I taken a chance.

"Please," she whispered forlornly.

Regret was a shroud drawing over her consciousness. It smothered her and distracted her from noticing that the blood wasn't coursing so fiercely from her veins. What caught her attention was the pleasant warmth that began to fill her body, settling between her legs and in the tips of her breasts.

She murmured her surprise at the complete absence of pain and felt, more than heard, a hum of agreement against her throat. The icy lips against her skin were now warm and soft and the gentle sucking action against her throat was nearly…erotic?

It wasn't a word she ever used to describe anything, but this felt like an appropriate time for it. She sighed and moved her ankles restlessly. She knew this feeling. Or at least, she'd come close to feeling it when she'd been with her husband. It had been elusive, a too-quick butterfly. Never settling upon her senses long enough to make an impression or make her yearn for more. Now, she curled her fingers against the dusty floor of the car, seeking contact as the warmth within her grew into a languid heat that demanded she lift up her skirts and unbutton her blouse…