Chapter 4: The Years Keep Coming

Two centuries had passed since that first meeting, and Marian and Walter had spent nearly every night since in one another’s company. Long after they were sure that Jacques, or whatever he was calling himself now, had given up on hunting her down.

They rode the carriage through the night and even into the next day, where Walter watched over her until the sun set again. She woke up as darkness fell, earlier than she had before while Jacques was keeping her starved. Before, she hadn’t even seen the purple of the sunset. Now, she woke up as the sun dropped below the horizon.

She awoke with a startled gasp, unsure what was happening and where she was. Walter was sitting in the back of the coach with her, right in front of the door. He could have left at any time, escaping and having a life entirely of his own. He could have pulled the covering off the hidden coffin and opened the door, burning her in the daylight.

But he did neither of those things. He watched over her. He waited. And when she awoke, he smiled at her. It was the first smile she’d seen in years that wasn’t promising something horrific. “We build our trust,” he said to her. “One day at a time.”

“I half expected you to take advantage of me,” she said. “Either while I was asleep or even still. Are you waiting for my strength to fade?”

Walter shook her head. “I have no desire to take advantage of a woman, sleeping or no,” he said. “My tastes lay elsewhere.”

Marian nodded. “I understand. And I appreciate it. I did not want my body used in such a way by a man.” She cleared her throat. “Or by anyone.”

They’d put more and more distance between them and Jacques, then more and more still. They left France, passing through Spain, and even into Portugal. Then they’d sailed across the ocean to the new world, the new nation that was forming there.

Just as he helped her survive the sun that first day, he helped her through hundreds more since then. She pressed on the minds of those they came across to get what they needed, to keep them safe and keep them moving further away from Jacques.

Walter became her human servant. She didn’t feed from him unless they were desperate, but she fed him her own blood a little bit at a time, every so often. The power of her blood kept him young, strong, and alive. And while he was ensorcelled by her blood, she never did anything to enforce that bond.

They were friends, and closer than friends, because of their lives together, not because of any mystical component.

She had kept him alive, even offered to turn him time and again. Every time she offered him immortality, Walter refused. He never gave her a satisfactory reason why, but vampirism simply did not appeal to him. He liked being human, and liked being alive. He was happy enough being her friend. Even if the other fangs looked at him as a servant, she never treated him that way.

He’d saved her life. She’d saved his. They had fought for freedom and against oppression. They had committed sins together that they believed were for the greater good, or at the very least for just reasons. They were friends. Partners against a changing world. Survivors living together and overcoming their past, supporting one another as they learned to live without fear.

Walter’s advice wasn’t always perfect, but he always had her best interest at heart. That much she knew she could trust. They’d spent a long time building up that trust. Long enough that when Walter had suggested she try dating again, it had only taken weeks of argument, rather than decades.

“What do I need someone else for?” she’d asked. “I have you.”

“There is more to life than survival,” Walter had said. “You need joy. And you need sex. And frankly, so do I.”

“Ah,” she said. “So that’s the core of it. You want to find some hussy to sleep with, so that you can sleep around with a clear conscience.”

“Marian, we both know that I am no more your type than you are mine. Let’s give it a shot, see if we can find some fun, maybe people to bring into our family.”

She frowned at him, crossing her arms. “You always want a family.”

“My family was not warm, ma cherie, but I do still miss it. The moments that we were what we pretended to be are still precious memories, even tainted by the truth.”

“I do not see how that means I have to try to meet someone.” Her accent was always thicker when they argued. No matter how many years it had been since she’d spoken French exclusively, she never quite got rid of the flowery accent.

“The last time I dated, you moped about it for months afterward.” Walter’s voice was devoid of accent. But French hadn’t been his first language, either, and he’d spoken that without a trace of accent. “You have to try. You might meet someone you like.”

“At speed dating?” Marian had been absolutely certain that wasn’t going to happen. “Not exactly a spring ball filled with romance.”

“Then hopefully, it will end better than the spring ball did.”

She grimaced. It had been a spring ball when she’d met Jacques. When she’d taken her last breath as a human.

“It’ll be a good chance to meet some people without worrying about their ulterior motives,” she said, starting to come around to the idea. Ever since they’d moved to Minneapolis, the only other people she saw on a regular basis were other members of the undead. And time with other vampires was always dangerous, no matter how polite everyone was.

“That’s the spirit,” Walter said. “And don’t decide that it’s going to be a bad time. You might get lucky. You might meet someone important.”

“That is not going to happen,” Marian said.

Sometimes, it’s good to be wrong.