Page 75 of How to Bare Your Neck and Save a Wreck
Shane-anigans
He’s tall and handsome. We met in October at a work thing and then ran into each other again last month at the Fishnettery. Yes we’ve fucked and he’s incredible, like the he-makes-me-feel-things-I-didn’t-know-I-could kind of incredible. (His dick is exactly the right size, you pervert. And he’s non-binary! Uses both he and they pronouns.)
These were all true things, things he loved about Andres, but the omission that this person—his person—was the same as the vampire who’d bought him from Maul left a foul taste in Shane’s mouth all the same. Maybe itwouldbe fine if she knew? She’d probably come around once she spoke with Andres properly. Part of Shane still retreated from the thought, though; of the work it would entail, the explanation and convincing; the possibility that their relationship would never be the same after.
It was the very thing Andres had done to him, Shane realized: separated the two halves, the simple and acceptable one from the dastardly vampire. For Shane, that had meant somethingdifferent than for Nat, but it was still a lie—a perceived safety net, but one that would just end up harming them both in the end.
Andres finally emerged from the bathroom and Shane slid his phone away; he’d have to deal with Nat later.
His vampire looked incredible—the Phaethon to Shane’s Cygnus. Their top was sheer, the fabric as black as a mourning gown and billowing around their arms before pulling tight at their wrists with a patch of white embroidery that looked just like a swan from the right angle, their lace gloves from their night at the Starlight Club beneath. In place of the necklace they’d matched to Shane’s collar, they wore another equally long chain, two feathers bobbing at the end. Both their earrings were diamonds—or good imitations—one a simple stud while the other dangled majestically. Around their eyes, they’d painted layers of shimmering silver and gold.
To distract the cameras, they’d explained when they’d packed the makeup.
The glimmering distracted Shane as well, in all the right ways.
Andres quirked the side of their lips at Shane, looking like they were admiring far more than just their handiwork. Even with their fangs shut out of view, the baring of their teeth was enough to send a happy shiver through Shane.
Andres approached with a slow confidence, catching Shane’s lips in the lightest kiss. It was reminiscent of their first one, back at a very different gala, but this one held a depth Shane could never have fathomed, left a warmth behind far more lovely than any obsessive memory. As Andres passed, they flicked their fingers gently against the feathers of Shane’s choker, tapping his pulse in the process. They didn’t have to say anything with the motion: Shane knew what it meant.
You are mine.
And Shane responded with his own actions—I am yours—sliding his hand into his vampire’s palm, letting himself be grasped and led along.
For all his abhorrence of Vitalis-Barron, he had to admit their taste in party set-ups wasn’t terrible. The event took up the entire top level of their main building. Rows of plants and canopies of lights transformed the massive central patio that looked up into the clear night sky. Live music played from a stage at one end, little standing tables were scattered throughout. Guests had arrived while Shane and Andres changed, meandering around the patio with little appetizer plates and drinks, some trailing into the surrounding lounge rooms or back to where a conference center had been turned into a silent auction.
It was all a little more preppy than Shane preferred, but that didn’t stop him from humming along to the music while he scanned the patio. Clementine had given him a basic description of their target—brown hair, undercut, early 40s, a smile that made you want to run for the hills—but Andres was doing a far better job of searching simply by exuding the confidence they took to everything they did. Their expression a perfect mixture of calm and self-assured, they’d drift into a guest’s space like they belonged there, asking if the person had seen Dr. Hilker yet as though the three of them were fast friends.
Every time, the guest’s confusion would last only a moment, social courtesy stepping in to answer,no,they hadn’t seen him. He was part of the lab, right? His team was hanging out near the food, perhaps try there. Oh, wasn’t that him, over with his girlfriend?“She sure has nerve showing up with him after Vitalis-Barron fired her last—”
Shane drowned the rest out, searching across the patio to where the guest had pointed. Anthony Hilker was easy enough to spot, standing a bit away from the other party-goers at one ofthe high tables, the cocktail in his hands untouched. His brown hair was braided along the sides of his undercut, then wound into a bun. The bright purple scrunchie that held it together didn’t quite match his aubergine suit, which didn’t quite match his lavender tie, and yet it all came together in the slim, purple-patterned dress of the woman draped like a conspirator against his shoulder.
Andres stiffened beside Shane, their brow tightening, and beneath the sound of the live music, they gave the softest little, “Huh.”
But Shane barely had time to register it, because the woman hanging off Anthony’s shoulder turned toward him then, pushing back her long, dark hair and glowering like she was about to fling daggers at the nearest group of guests. He swore he recognized her—had stared at the icon of her contact on his phone so many times that even through his uncertainty, his feet were already carrying him across the patio, limbs numb and heart pounding. He could feel the worried smile in his voice when he spoke, so much hope and fear muddled together into something unfathomable.
“Nat?” he asked.
Their eyes met, and after a moment of confusion, her glowering dissipated, replaced by a soft, awkward grin and a laugh. “Oh my god,Shane!”
And behind him, Andres swore.
27
ANDRES
Andres’s cousin was here.
His cousin was Anthony Hilker’s girlfriend. His cousin, who was looking at Shane—Andres’sShane—like she knew him. More than knew him, by the way they both seemed to light up, Shane understandably more awkward given the situation, but still affectionate and eager, hugging Natalie like they were old friends.
Andres remembered the gossip of the guest who’d pointed them this way, how Anthony’s girlfriend had been fired from Vitalis-Barron a few months before, which was around the time Natalie had told Andres her security career was over—she still had the brace on one knee from the crash that she claimed had gotten her laid off. In all her ranting, she’d never told him the name of the company, and Andres had never asked. But if Vitalis-Barron had been her employer, with how they collected and retained their vampiric victims, working “security” for them might have entailed so much more than he’d assumed.
The first jitters of panic tingled in the back of Andres’s spine, not an attack, but a warning. There was a reason he hadn’t told his family about his turning; a reason that circle of ignorance had included Natalie—his favorite, his hell beast, the kid he’d let trail around after him all their childhoods and come out tobefore anyone else—an impulse so deep he’d never questioned it.
Andres took a step back, the fear transforming into horror. He could feel the wave of his misery rising, threatening to crash. The feeling was pre-emptive, he told himself. She knew nothing of his fangs; to her, Andres was still the dorky but loving human she’d grown up with.
That much was obvious as Shane motioned behind himself, back to where Andres still stood, his words—my partner—ringing in Andres’s ears, and Natalie’s expression transformed again. The shock was there, but as it slid away, he could make out the love beneath, the enthusiasm of realizing that two people she cared deeply for also cared for each other.
She nudged Shane in the shoulder and winked. “He’s a good one. I can tell.”
