Page 41 of How to Bite Your Neighbor and Win a Wager
“Would you be happy with that?” She sounded serious, but her voice took on a teasing twist as she continued, “I mean, if your pingly—”
“No!” Wesley howled over her. “I will not be having any more sex talks from you, woman!”
“You’ve been saying that for the last five years, but you haven’t complained to HR yet, have you.”
“No, but I am hanging up! And unfriending! And stealing your future children and all your left socks!”
Kendall held her camera to her face, so close that her eyes went a little bugged. “I love you Wesley, but you’re an asshole.”
Wesley smiled at her, all teeth and unbridled affection. “I hate you Kendall, but you’re wonderful.”
And he hung up.
5
Kendall was right. Sunday night passed in a blissful mess of laughter and video games and snacks, with a bite at the end that lasted for an intoxicating twenty minutes of Vincent’s hands in Wes’s hair and his right leg casually slipping up and down Wesley’s, leaving Wes to jerk off in his bedroom after, then the shower, then his bedroom again, like he was sixteen and had nothing better to do. And still Wesley couldn’t bring himself to admit to Vincent that he wanted more. One last not-a-date, then maybe he’d be willing to tempt this fate.
Not Tuesday though, when he and Vincent walked the neighborhood reminiscing over their childhoods and sneaking into their old elementary school’s playground to sit on the swings and laugh about the trials of growing up. Not Thursday either, when they brought back burritos from Wesley’s favorite Mexican takeout and watched all three of the old Squid Attack movies until Wesley fell asleep on the couch and woke up to a note of thanks signed with a little heart before Vincent’s name and aPS: Tonight?after it.
Tonight—Friday. A perfectly good night to finally say either of the things that had been haunting him all week, hopefully not in the same sentence.I would very politely like to touch your dickandI almost betrayed you to get vengeance on the pharmaceutical company that built this citydidn’t go together very well.
First, Wesley needed to deal with the pharmaceutical company in question.
Over the week he’d applied for all three of their research lab’s other job openings under different versions of his name, and even started looking, rather fruitlessly, for ways to break in. The more dead ends he hit the more he found himself emailing with Matthew Babcock. There had to be a vampire out there somewhere who was biting unwilling victims for the fun of it. Just one single vampire Wesley could feel comfortable handing over to Vitalis-Barron. The stereotypes came from somewhere, after all.
Wesley,
Sorry to hear about your mishap, but I hope this news will cheer you up.
My assistant has been looking into a vampire who lives in your general area. Based on his appearance, he probably resides in one of the nearby cemeteries. My previous altercations with him have shown that he’s a coward, easily cornered, and seems to rely more on instinct than smarts. We last spotted him luring a drunk, possibly drugged human into a car over the weekend. Chances are high that’s his typical feeding tactic.
If this seems like a catch you can handle, let me know. My assistant is moving to a full post soon and if you can get a recruitment signed by then I’m happy to take you on. Another War Call geek is always welcome with me.
Matthew Babcock
A shudder ran across Wes’s shoulders. This was good. He tried to convince his body of that, to calm the tightness in his chest and the tangle in his gut. Another vampire lived in his area, this one willing to take advantage of drunk humans, possibly even drug them. That was an asshole move, a level even Vincent, with no resources and no way around taking the blood he needed, would never have resorted to. This was good.
He could find this vampire, use them to get into Vitalis-Barron, and tell Vincent how he felt and what he’d done only after he had proof that he had contributed to taking down the company that was putting people like Vincent through so much pain. This was good. He could do this.
Things were looking up for Wesley.
16
VINCENT
Vincent’s life was falling apart.
He had one good thing left: Wesley. Wesley was amazing.Feeding off Wesley was amazing. Being near Wesley, in the glow of his cozy house with him, was amazing. Wanting more from Wesley and being pretty sure the man wasn’t interested in that was less amazing, but still, the fantasies Vincent indulged in before falling asleep in the mornings were pretty damned good. Outside of Wesley, Vincent’s already pathetic and mediocre existence had turned into a shit-show.
Suddenly everyone seemed to know he was a vampire.
The local suburban newspaper, who was usually happy to give out one or two runs to people who needed a bit of extra cash, had told him to take his fangs and scat. The new soup kitchen he’d eaten at most Monday nights since it opened had quietly turned him away at the door. Even the clothing donation box the church three streets down left out for an hour or two after sunset was mysteriously moved inside at the first sign of dusk.
It had taken him most of the week to finally run into the source of it all: a flier with a sketched version of him and a warning underneath.Highly dangerous vampire. If seen, contact below.All the phone number slips had been torn off it already. It sent a chill down Vincent’s spine.
He wanted to tell Wesley. More and more, he wanted to lay his head on the man’s lap and complain about all the pain and fear that hounded him from every corner, even if Wesley himself could do nothing about it. But Wesleycouldn’tdo anything about it. And the more Vincent made it seem like it was Wes’s problem to fix, the more likely it was that Wes would decide the effort wasn’t worth what he was getting out of their strange friendship.
The last cash in Vincent’s wallet dwindled into a handful of ones, then pocket change, and he still couldn’t find a way to make it back. A human in his position had options, even if they were all bad ones—street corners to beg on, if nothing else, but most people didn’t give money to anyone after dark, anyone who wouldn’t stand in the light for it. If he was going to spend an hour writhing as his body tried to burn away the sun’s toxins in order to beg five dollars off someone, he’d go apply to the Vitalis-Barron research laboratory first.
