Page 60 of How to Bare Your Neck and Save a Wreck
“What did you think of the Starlight Club?”
“You can figure that out yourself, pet.”
“How does having a safe space for vampires to express themselvesasvampires affect the overall community?”
“No comment.”
“Does the secrecy necessary for the Starlight Club’s survival detract from its advantages?”
“Shane, please.” He looked up from the shelf he was re-organizing. Had there always been this much space in Shane’s apartment? Andres was clearly some kind of dimensional wizard, with a side of cat-whisperer, The Heathen having curled up at his feet any time he stopped moving for more than three minutes. He had gone entirely still now, his expression dark. “You know what I think? That secrecy is paramount. That the more the human society knows about this, the harder it will be for us to hold onto it. It’s one of the few good things we have. If they were on the lookout for the Starlight Club—god forbid, if they knew where it would be and when it would be there—they would come for us, like Vitalis-Barron is already doing. Maybe they wouldn’t bring weapons, not at first. Maybe they’d just bring their hate, their insults, their statements of death. But words don’t stay words for long.”
“We have words too.”
“And who will listen?”
“I will,” he insisted. “And others like me.”
A tragic twist came into Andres’s lips. “I’m afraid there is no one else quite like you, pet.”
Shane didn’t know how to object to that. He leaned his forehead into a hand. “Well, how do you feel about Maulmonopolizing the blood trade in this city in order to rip off his own community?”
“Don’t ask me that,” Andres snapped. “You’re human—you don’tgetto ask me that.”
The growl in his voice caught Shane off guard, sending a chill along his skin and lifting his hairs like he was a prey-thing. Hewasa prey-thing. But then Andres’s brow tightened and guilt overwhelmed his features.
“I’m sorry,” he said. “I didn’t mean to scare you.”
“I know.” Shane smiled. “And I get that this is not entirely my place. It’swhyI’m asking questions. You know, you’re not the only one whose life has been treated as expendable? My rights—rights to whoIam as a trans man and the substance that keepsmealive as a diabetic—are also treated like things to be granted and taken away on the whims of governments and corporations and religions. And that doesn’t make it appropriate for me to probe into your community’s pain; I have my own privileges. But I know what I’ve experienced, and I want to know what you have too, because maybe we can be stronger together, if we understand each other.”
Andres looked down at the drawer. His fingers moved, sifting through the same three objects he’d been failing to sort since they started this discussion. “Maul ripping off the vampiric community hurts,” he whispered. “Itkills meto know that there are vampires going hungry because of him, and it kills me even more because he wouldn’t be able to do this at all if our larger, human-populated society didn’t maintain the system he works under. The systemIwork under, too. But what else am I supposed to do?” He looked at Shane then, pleading.
Considering how many half-written clickbait articles he had to finish by tonight in order to keep his health insurance, Shane thought he understood that. But he didn’t have an answer for it. He asked instead, “What else do youwantto do?”
“I don’t know.”
“Would you leave his business? If there was a better place, or a better way, would you risk it all to reach that?” Shane asked. Andres’s nails dug into the pack of expired batteries he was sorting, and it made Shane’s heart hurt as though it were the center of his own chest that his vampire gripped. Gently, he added, “It’s not just this city’s impoverished vampires he’s hurt, but you too.”
Andres dropped the items in his hands, running his fingers through his hair in a motion so rushed it looked painful. He shook his head. “No more than anyone else who works for him. Less, even.”
Somehow, Shane didn’t think that was true.
The text finally came at nine-seventeen that night.
Unknown Number
Hey, Tara said you wanted to talk to my fiancé and I? There’s not a lot we can tell you, but if you want to meet up, I can probably arrange that. Wesley works until six on weekdays, so maybe after his dinner? We can grab some horchata? That’s safer than coming to our place. Let me know what you think.
By the way this is Vincent Barnes.
The black heart he sent after his final message made Shane like him instantly. They scheduled a meeting for the following night, and Andres went home to feed his cat and work on a few of the upcoming blood acquisition plans he’d promised Maul he’d get to. Shane almost volunteered to come with him, but the chaos he’d put his body through was finally taking a toll, andhe still had a thousand words he was supposed to write about a product he was pretty sure was not made to massagebananas. He opted for a lingering kiss at the door instead, with promises that Andres would grab dinner with him before their meeting with Vincent and Wesley.
The bruises along his back hurt as he settled into his desk chair.
He’d startled Andres. That was all.
After his vampire had taken such care never to grab him with more than the lightest of touches, never to push or twist, even the prick of his fangs always coming with a rush of venom, the shoving wasn’t like him. It had to have been an accident. Just an accident that had happened twice in twelve hours…
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