The Keeper of Time

Chapter 12 - Close call

And so, they left behind Carlisle's birth town, his father and his past, his human life. Posing as man and wife, with a diseased husband – which explained his eye condition – got them to pass villages rather safely as they headed south. And it kept women away from him, for Carlisle still had trouble controlling his attractiveness. A large hat and long coat was enough to shield him from the sun; soon enough, Carlisle knew exactly what angle he could offer to avoid his skin from catching sunrays.

But, when they were both alone, he shed the pretense and allowed the light to grace his face. Warmth caressed his skin, and he smiled. Often, they slept in the woods, or claimed fields of wild flowers as their own for the night. Their progress was slow, and steady. Both in distance, and in social skills.

At first overwhelmed by the presence of humans, Carlisle's control strengthened little by little. He was now dressed properly, and Frances always joked how his clothes needed no tending nor washing. How convenient to be a vampire! No sweat to stain clothes and no smell to wash away.

When they played their cards well, or villagers weren't so coy, they sometimes managed to sleep in an inn. Frances rolled into the covers and he lay beside her, motionless, watching the ceiling as she slept. A moment of peace when she could recuperate and Carlisle would delve into his mind and review the ordeals of the day.

This very evening, though, things went south without warning. Frances had left the dining room to use the privy. Upon her return, whistles and slaps came her way. Used to the rowdy patrons that found her armoured body attractive, she only dodged them, chasing hands away with an aikido move in her hurry to get back to Carlisle. What she found made her blood run cold.

The vampire sat, eyes wide open, his mouth closed in panic. From the look of pure terror upon his chiselled features, Frances knew he was trying not to inhale. For in his lap sat a tavern wench, the likes that Lancelot used to enjoy so much after a good fight. But Carlisle was no womaniser, and the risk so very different. If he lost control ... the woman was as good as dead. Stupid, stupid wench! Ice coursed through her veins as she sprang into action.

Furious, Frances stomped to the table, catching Carlisle's gaze. His panic seemed to abate a notch, but he still looked like a child trying very hard not to throw up. 'Quick!', pleaded his large golden orbs. 'Please!' Frances caught the woman's collar and hoisted her up with a furious move. The wench squeaked, offended, but before she could even retaliate the Keeper of Time threw her away from the table, putting as much distance as she could between her and Carlisle. The serving woman, boobs on display, started a sentence that she never got to finish.

'Get off my husband!' Frances howled; her fists clenched.

Marking her territory, especially if people thought her crazy, would keep Carlisle safe. 'Husband' usually did the trick. Unfortunately, the vampire had reached his limit. He darted off at inhuman speed, passing the door with a blur. 'Crap.' Frances sighed. She was now facing angry customers and suspicious villagers, and Carlisle was at large, on his own. Could this day get any better?

People yelled unsavoury things her way; she ignored them in favour of gathering their meagre belongings, then darted away. Dusk greeted her with its reds and shadows, and she only had a second before the blond blur she was looking for disappeared into the forest. Good, at least, he was still conscious enough not to use his full speed. The young woman started after him at a brisk pace, reaching the forest's edge in no time. Then, it was all a matter of bringing forth those tracking skills she had not used for years. Looking for upturned leaves and broken spider webs. In the dead of winter, at dusk! Fantastic. Frances exhaled slowly. She was only human, with a very good eyesight for her race – they said fighter pilot, in the army check - but a human nonetheless. Thank God for her months under Aragorn's care.