Page 44 of How to Bare Your Neck and Save a Wreck
“How do we know we can trust you?” Maddox asked, and it was clear from the way he stared at Shane’s vampire that it was, in part, the mask that bothered him, like it had bothered the staff member at their front desk.
Shane expected more rebuttals, more poised reasonings for why he needed it on, but his vampire quietly slipped his hand around Shane’s wrist. Gently, he tugged Shane into his lap. His hands were soft, his presence warm and solid, and while the demand confused Shane, submitting to it felt comfortable. Safe. He understood what was meant by it the moment before he was asked.
His vampire was not hiding from the world, only from one particular person in it.
Shane expected that conformation to hurt or scare him, but it was sadness he felt, a deep longing between his ribs to know why his vampire was so worried that Shane would reject the person he was underneath the mystery. Shane could always narrow down the suspects or pull off the mask, but what good would that do, if his vampire wasn’t ready to move forward?
So when the command came to close his eyes, Shane obeyed. He slid between his vampire’s legs until his thighs pressed around Shane’s, and relaxed against his vampire’s chest, feeling each strong breath like it was his own. He turned his head, burying the top of his face into the base of his vampire’s jaw and the softness of his throat. Without his sight to taunt him, the arms wrapping around him and the rise and fall of the chest at his back were Shane’s entire world. The rustle of the mask coming off felt distant and blurred.
“Thank you, my little swan,” his vampire murmured, his voice thick with affection.
This meant something to him, clearly, even if Shane couldn’t understand why. He could not put the secrecy and denial aside forever. But for now, he would do what would make his vampire comfortable, because that was worth it to him.
“You may have heard of me in concept, though not by name. I’m the primary blood supplier for Frederick Maul,” Shane’s vampire said. “I’ve been searching for some way to stop the hunting Vitalis-Barron has been doing in our community, in part because Maul is upset that his customers keep vanishing, but mostly for myself. We’ve lost so much, suffered so much. What they’re doing to us is unacceptable.”
“Agreed,” Valentine replied.
“Tara’s memories from her time with them are traumatic,” Maddox added. “I’d ask you not to question her unless you have no other options.”
“I only need to know about the person who helped her escape.” Shane’s vampire fiddled with his hair as he spoke, soothing and gentle, and brushed his thumb along the ridge of Shane’s jaw as he seemed to contemplate. “My—Shane is an investigative journalist, though. He would probably like to ask her more. And if she’s all right with that, it might help everyone in the end.”
Shane’s heart did a little leap, and he barely caught the urge to open his eyes from excitement in time to keep the world a hazy blur of his vampire’s skin. “You’ll support this?” he asked his vampire, softly.
“This, yes.”
Not theWar on Bloodarticle, then. But at least having his vampire’s encouragement in one area was a start. “I’ll only interview her if she’s willing and able,” Shane added. “We can meet now or later, here or anywhere she’s comfortable. She can share as much or as little as she chooses. All I ask is that she be allowed to consider it.”
Valentine gave a soft, “Are you sure?” and then at what must have been a nod from Maddox, replied more firmly, “I’ll ask her.” Then, “You can both wait here.”
Shane listened as his footsteps retreated, then Maddox’s as well, the side door opening and shutting. His vampire traced the line of his jaw, then his ear, quiet with what seemed like thought. Shane was suddenly keenly aware that he was still sitting in his vampire’s lap, lounging against him like he was genuinely a pet… or a lover. He could still feel the gentle motion of his vampire’s chest, and as they stayed like that, in silent contemplation, his vampire running gentle lines and circles along Shane’s skin, he recognized, too, how their breathing had synced. They felt so much closer now than they had just a few days ago, like stepping into this place—this place where parts of who and what they were could be a safe, joyous thing—had given both of them a sense of peace and security with each other.
A foundation that might turn into something more; something like the emotional vulnerability and trust he felt with Andres, but with all the sensual exhilaration of his vampire.
The door opened again then, and Shane’s vampire finally scooted him forward with a soft nudge and a, “You can open your eyes, my pet.”
He’d slipped the mask back into place.
Shane tried not to be disappointed. He turned his attention instead to the dark-skinned vampire who’d entered with Valentine. Her natural curls made a cloud around her face, and the blue dye throughout them matched her brilliant eyeshadow.
Her gaze shifted nervously between Shane and his vampire. “You wanted to speak with me?”
Like they had all the time in the world, Shane’s vampire kissed the side of his head, gently teasing the stray locks around his temple. “I did my part; it’s your turn now.”
Warmth flushed through him, not as hot or sharp as the heat that so much of this night had built, but steadier and fuller and settling easily behind his ribs. His vampire trusted him. Not with the face behind his mask, perhaps, but with this larger, life-altering thing; this future. “Thank you.”
The smile he received in return was so small and soft that it made Shane’s mind flash to another mouth, another smile, one his brain couldn’t seem to properly identify.
He shook the thought away and stood, offering his hand to Tara. “I’m Shane.”
After a moment’s hesitation, she took it. She followed his lead, taking a seat across from him like they were old friends out for a coffee who just happened to have a masked vampire lurking in the shadows behind them. The occasional laugh still resounded through the walls, but their private space and its low lights felt intimate in a haunting, melancholic way.
“As Valentine might have told you, I’m an investigative journalist, but I’m also—well, you’ve met my vampire.” Shane quirked a smile, finding his fingers drifting along his collar subconsciously. “I’ve been thinking for a while that the way the media portrays and highlights the existence of vampires within our city, and most others, is an awful, bigoted misrepresentation, and the more I see of your world, the more I want to set the story straight. That starts with exposing Vitalis-Barron.”
Tara had perched on the edge of her seat, and she wavered, rubbing at her wrists. “I’m not sure…”
“I understand,” Shane reassured her. “How about we begin with something else? Something easy.” He waited for a subtle nod of acceptance before opening the recorder on his phone, showing it to her with a quickfor my own recollections,before setting it between them. “How do you like working here?”
“This is on record?”
