by Tricia Owens
And yet for as strong as their sexual chemistry together was, their connection wasn't based solely on that. Before the sun rose this morning, as Vellum was preparing to climb into his box, she'd caught him pausing to look at her and Clay. She'd pretended she didn't notice, but she'd been acutely aware of his regard and the longing that bled from it. Unable to resist, she'd turned her head to meet his gaze. He'd held steady, allowing her to see his naked need. But then, in a blink, he was back to cool and distant, albeit with a smile upon his face so she wouldn't take the apathy personally. Clay had snorted softly then, and when she'd glanced at him, he was shaking his head, a thoughtful expression on his face as though he'd seen and understood everything.
Let's run away, she'd nearly blurted. She'd felt the change in Clay and Vellum, their emotions deepening and aligning with hers. The three of them could make a relationship work, she was sure of it.
But she'd hesitated, afraid of rejection, and the moment had passed. Vellum climbed into his crate, and she and Clay had settled down for their final sleep beneath the stars.
"This is as far as I go," Vellum spoke up, drawing his horse to a stop.
Having dreaded those words for miles, Mariel had to blink back tears before turning to look at him. "Surely there's some way to make them understand," she tried.
But she knew the entreaty and the possibility were both hopeless. Vampires and men couldn't live together. What she and Clay shared with Vellum was an anomaly, nothing more.
"Be well, Mariel," Vellum said gently, smiling sadly when she sniffed. "You and Clay must make your home together. I must find my home elsewhere."
"Why must you go to Scar Tooth. Just tell me already!"
He looked about to deny her yet again, then shook his head and sighed. "The vampire who turned me against my will, the vampire who murdered my family…he's there."
"You're going for revenge," Clay said grimly. His brows drew together angrily. "That's a fool's errand."
"It's something I must do."
"You're going after him to die!" Clay accused. "Dammit, Vellum—"
The vampire held up his hand to cut him off. "You won't change my mind. I must do this, and you two must do what you must. That's the way it is. That's the only way we'll all be happy."
"No!" Mariel argued. "We can be happy if it's the three of us. We'll forget the trial and turn around right now."
Clay rubbed at his eyes. "Mariel, darling, can you do that knowing that a murderer and a rapist will be set free to hurt yet more people?" When tears slipped from her eyes, he turned a pained gaze on her. "I know it's unfair, but you need to do this. You'll never sleep another minute if you don't."
Of course he was right, but that didn't make the unfairness of it all hurt any less.
Vellum guided his horse to turn a wide circle, the crate digging a furrow behind him as he aimed himself toward the mountain. "Farewell, my friends," he said softly. He cleared his throat. "Maybe one day we'll meet again on the Heaven Bridge. I would…like that."
Mariel covered her face with her hands and wept.
"Come along, Mariel," Clay said gently. When she didn't respond, he clucked his tongue and urged their horses on.
When they reached the gates of the fort minutes later, Mariel, exhausted, turned in her saddle and looked back. She expected to see an empty desert, but Vellum hadn't ridden any farther. He remained at the spot where they had left him, just another solitary creature of the night.
~~~~~
The trial of Rhody Beaufort, held three days later, was blissfully short, though far from pleasant. Beaufort, realizing that he wasn't going to escape justice this time, rained insults and threats upon the judge that were so hideous they made one female audience member faint. But it was Beaufort's last satisfaction. For his crimes, the vicious bandit was sentenced to hang until dead, which happened the following day. The Empire was rid of one terrible man.
Freed of her obligation, Mariel felt unmoored. She had been driven by the responsibility to testify and she had done her duty, but life after that felt anticlimactic. She had vowed not to return to the inn at Willowtown, but what would she do?
She walked the streets, studying the various inns and saloons and shops and tailors where she might pick up work. A particular storefront looked inviting so she entered it. Within the gloom sat an older woman, industriously sewing something made of gingham. Around her were piled bolts of fabric. On the wall near the window display that had caught her eye hung what looked like dresses.
"Afternoon," Mariel greeted.
The woman nodded at her and smiled, the needle in her fingers darting in and out of the fabric without missing a beat.
Mariel drifted to the hanging dresses and admired them. "You do lovely work."
"Thank you, ma'am."
Mariel gathered her courage. "I'm new to town. I was wondering if you're in need of help or know of an establishment that's hiring on."
"Could always use another set of hands," the woman said with a smile as she lowered her work into her lap. "I'm in sore need of another seamstress."
Mariel nodded eagerly. "That's wonderful news."
"You could start today if you like. Just pick up a needle and start sewing." The woman gave a hearty laugh. "Not much to it, is there? Pass a needle through miles and miles of cloth. Yet it's something that needs doing. You'll never lack for work."
"That's true," Mariel said, but her initial elation had dimmed considerably as the reality of what the woman said sank in. She could sew for miles and miles and years and years—and what would she have to show for it in the end? Money and pricked fingers but what else? What satisfaction?
What excitement?
Or was she spoiled to believe that she deserved a better life than this? An airship pilot was a dream for children…
She found herself backing toward the door of the shop.
"May I—I think I need to speak with my friend, first," she demurred.
"Alright," the woman said amiably. "A needle will be here for you when you're ready."
Mariel thanked the woman for her kindness before swiftly leaving the shop.
She headed straight for the fort's best inn, where Clay had booked them a room. Ignoring the busy common area, she hurried to their room and let herself in. She pressed her back to the door and smiled a little sadly at Clay, who was napping on their bed.
As quietly as she could, she removed her shoes and the dress—one of several that Clay had purchased for her as promised—and carefully climbed onto the mattress. She stretched out beside him and laid a hand on his chest. The steady rise and fall of his ribcage and the warmth radiating from his body calmed her.
"What's wrong, beautiful lady?" he murmured without opening his eyes.
He rolled onto his side and gently pulled her up against him. Away from the dusty trail, he no longer smelled of horse and sweat. In fact, she loved smelling his masculine scent and had protested when he'd suggested she might like him better in cologne. He was perfect as was. He'd been perfect when he was dirty.
She kissed him. "Nothing's wrong. I'm fine."
The whiskey brown eyes opened then, and they missed nothing. "You're upset."
"More like concerned."
He frowned, fully awake now. "About what?"
"About my purpose. What I'm going to do from now on." She plucked restlessly at a button on his shirt. "I went looking for employment. The options are less than inspiring, Clay. They're what I could have done back home in Willowtown."
"We'll go to the airship docks and see if they're taking on apprentice pilots."
"I went yesterday. They kindly asked me to leave, said it was too dangerous for a woman to be so near the ships."
Clay sat up, anger filling his handsome face. "They said what? Well, I'll—"
Mariel gently pushed him back down. "I don't need you to fight my battles, Marshal."
"Former Marshal," he muttered. He urged her to lie atop him and then studied her face. "I want you to be happy
, Mariel. No matter what that takes or who I need to give a whoopin' to."
She smiled and turned to nuzzle his palm when he caressed her face. "I know you do. You treat me better than anyone ever has. But this is something I need to work out on my own. No one can find my purpose except me."
"But you're not content. Are you?"
"I love being with you, Clay," she stated clearly. "And I don't want to go back to Willowtown."
"That's not what I asked, darlin'," he murmured, and kissed her before she could respond.
He gently rolled them on the bed so he was above her. His strong, sure hands quickly divested them both of their clothing. The sun came through the curtains but Mariel didn't feel self-conscious about being with Clay in the daylight. Any opportunity to be this close to him was one to be cherished.
With no pressing concerns weighing them down, Clay could take his time making love to her. It was the kind of intimacy Mariel had thought she would experience with her husband, but she received it now from this man, who focused his attention on her pleasure and satisfaction to the exclusion of all else.
Each kiss from him made her melt deeper into the bed. Each tender stroke of his fingers sent shivers racing along her skin. He kissed her with sweetness and later, with a command that made her moan. When he penetrated her body, he slid all the way into her heart.
For the rest of the afternoon they feasted on each other. Once they were sated, Clay suggested they enjoy a nice evening out.
"But you've spent so much on me already, Clay," she protested.
He pressed a finger to her lips. "It's the reward I receive for winning the attention of such a lovely lady. Don't deny me your beautiful presence, Mariel. I live to make these other men jealous." He kissed the tip of her nose. "Wear the red one. I adore you in that one."
So she wore it, and she couldn't deny that she felt like a queen on Clay's arm because he treated her like one. As a couple, they drew other peoples' admiration. She preened a bit, but in truth her pride was over having such a handsome, caring man escorting her. What more could she ask for?
Maybe just a little bit more.
They dined on roasted silver-gilt birds and drank expensive wine imported from another territory. Afterwards, Clay purchased private box seats for them to the robot show. Mariel questioned the amount of money he had been spending since they'd arrived in Everton Fort. He had chosen to quit working for the Empire Marshals, but how would he earn his money? It wasn't something she wanted to bring up now. The evening was proving to the best they'd had since they'd arrived, and as she laughed at the antics of the robots and their handlers, she told herself not to ruin it, not to question anything beyond the here and now.
She turned her head and admired the glow of the lamps on Clay's face, how they highlighted the gold in his hair and brought out the warmth of his eyes. He laughed at something on stage and then glanced at her. He raised an eyebrow, questioning. Concerned.
Leaning against him, she whispered into his ear, "I love you."
His face lit up and she realized even before he returned the words that he felt the same for her. The words still made her tingle to hear them, though. Especially when he added, "I fell in love with you the moment I met you on that train, Mariel."
She laced her fingers with his and held his hand the entire night.
They made love again when they returned to their room. It was just as good, just as breathtaking. Mariel indulged herself by riding atop Clay, savoring the expressions that rippled across his face as she took her pleasure on him. Yet as she rocked and moaned, she found herself thinking of the first time she'd been above Clay like this, out in the desert. Her bare skin felt even more naked for missing cool fingers along her shoulders. Her thoughts drifted to Vellum, wondering how he was faring, or if he missed them.
When she forced the thoughts away and refocused, she found Clay looking at her, a sad half-smile on his handsome face.
The next morning, as Mariel drifted in the netherworld between wakefulness and sleep, she heard him mutter, "He had too much of a head start. It would be madness."
She was instantly awake. "We know where he's heading, though," she blurted. "If we ride hard enough we can catch him. He'll be conserving his strength and spending twelve hours a day in the crate."
Clay rolled over to face her. His hair was mussed adorably, and his cheeks held only the faintest hint of the beard that had built up during their journey. He was terribly handsome and would be a prize for any woman, which made Mariel hate herself that she still wanted more.
"This is idiocy even to consider it," he muttered. "We have a life here, Mariel. We can build a future here."
"We have part of a life," she pointed out gently. "I know you've felt the lack, too. We've been trying to fill it with entertainment, lavish dinners…" She touched his arm. "I've caught you looking for him and reaching for him in bed."
He flushed, but didn't deny it. "Say we did let this madness rule us and we went after him. There's no guarantee he'll even want our company. He's on a mission. Men like that are difficult. And hell, he's not even a man."
She cupped Clay's cheek. "He needs us. You didn't see what I saw on his face after you two fought." Her heart ached at the secret memory. "He'd been angry, yes, but he was also devastated. I've never seen someone show so much loss, as though his entire reason for living had just been set on fire. He'd thought that was the end of us, that he'd pushed you too far. Clay, whether you're ready to accept it or not, he loves us. Desperately."
He closed his eyes. She understood this was difficult for him. Clay had quit the Marshals to be with her. He had nursed a dream of them living together here in Everton. Yet when he opened his eyes again, his whiskey brown orbs held tentative hope.
"I suppose if we go after him it'll be like being a Marshal again," he ventured. "Only you'll be my faithful deputy instead of some bearded, foul-smelling man."
She grinned. "You're only saying that to get me into a pair of trousers."
He wagged his brows. "Did it work?"
She hit him with a pillow. Laughing, he caught it and threw it off the bed. He reached for her.
"If we do this, will you still love me?" he whispered.
She kissed him and said against his lips, "I'll love you more."
~~~~~
Two days later found them en route to Scar Tooth Mountain. Everton Fort was nothing but a memory behind them, Willowtown another lifetime.
Mariel shifted in her saddle, still marveling over how much more comfortable it was to ride a horse when you weren't hampered by a skirt.
"You love them, admit it," Clay called over from his horse.
She tilted her chin up. "These trousers may or may not be more comfortable. You'll never know."
"I know I appreciate the view," he drawled.
She grinned back.
They didn't know how far ahead Vellum was, but they were confident they would catch up to him. Mariel couldn't wait for that moment, and to see the look on Vellum's face when he realized they'd given up everything to be with him. Whether he remained partly alien to them or his human side came through even more, Mariel knew that she and Clay would find happiness with him regardless. The three of them were meant to be together, no matter what the rest of the world believed.
Not that I've ever cared about other peoples' opinions, she thought with a wry smile.
They rode hard, aware that they needed to make up a considerable distance. However, Mariel was confident it wouldn't take too long on account of Vellum needing to remain in his box from sunrise to sunset. Her hopes soared when Clay easily found the drag marks that the box left in the ground.
"Not too long now," he promised Mariel with a wink.
She could hardly contain her excitement.
10
Clay studied the ground and then he gauged the position of the sun. He wagered it would be another two hours at most before they caught up to the vampire. Maybe sooner, if they picked up their pace.
&
nbsp; And then he'll be back in her life.
Clay gave Mariel an encouraging smile as he mounted up again. Her expression brightened with excitement as she read the truth of their nearness on his face. She was so eager to see Vellum again…
Clay had never been a man to lack for confidence. Even as a youth, he'd been competent at everything he'd attempted—becoming an excellent rider and a skilled marksman—and girls had been drawn to that, as well as to the looks he'd done nothing to earn. His mama had made sure he didn't grow too cocky and he was grateful for that. He felt, as a grown man, that he possessed a fair idea of himself. He knew what he was good at, and he knew he possessed more strengths than most.
But even the best man might not be much competition against a vampire whose bite could send a person to heaven and back. For as many lovers as Clay had enjoyed, he couldn't say he could do what Vellum could do to a woman. Not so powerfully. Not in an instant.
It was troubling, and so was the understanding that he looked forward to seeing Vellum again, too. For his own reasons. Reasons that only Mariel would understand. Damn, so maybe tracking down this damn vampire wasn't a fool's errand after all, he thought as he surreptitiously adjusted himself within his trousers. Sometimes giving in to desire wasn't the most reckless thing a man could do.
He urged their horses just a little bit faster.
Over an hour later it happened. He spotted Vellum's horse and the crate up ahead, resting partly within the anemic shadow of a lightning struck pine tree. The trees had begun popping up here and there now that they had left the desert, but so far most had been dead and blackened from storm damage. This particular tree didn't provide much protection from the sun's direct rays. It bothered Clay to see how vulnerable Vellum was like this. Anyone could have ridden up and grown curious about the crate and opened it. Vellum needed them for more than food. He needed their protection.
Clay hoped he and Mariel could convince him of that.
Mariel's horse passed him by in a gallop. Clay smiled a bit but clucked his horse to follow suit. She wasn't the only one looking forward to a reunion with their strange, pale companion.