Page 79 of How to Bare Your Neck and Save a Wreck
“Who they take…”
Maul must have thought the flatness of his voice was consideration, because he brightened, clearly self-satisfied. “Those damn blood bank mosquitos for starts. Whoever can’t pay us, or won’t pay us? We give Vitalis-Barron their names, make their disappearance look like vamp-on-vamp crime—the media loves that, makes them feel so safe and justified—and in exchange, they leaveourcustomers alone. It won’t be viableforever, but in the meantime, we knock out our competition and renew our customer’s dedication to us.”
The horror of it all descended on Andres so fast that his brain clung to the little ironies at the edges—that they were having this conversation here, at a gala of the richest humans in the city, and none of the dozen people around them had noticed. And if they had noticed… they wouldn’t care. Because, Andres realized with a dawning sense of absurd hilarity, most of these people probably didn’thatevampires. In fact, in many ways, they actually liked vampires. Liked how much money and power they could gain at their fanged population’s expense, and how easy it was to push them into these corners where they traded each other’s lives away for the chance to bealmostas free as the humans.
And they had made Andres an unwitting accomplice in it.
He felt sick. The work he and Shane had done for this—their plans to expose Vitalis-Barron’s experimentation and murder to the whole city in a plea for compassion—and Maul was going to use it to put more vampires in those cells and help cover up how it happened. And he expected Andres to assist him; would demand it.
“It’s what’s best for us,” Maul said. “Once we get going, you’ll see that.” From behind the subtle parting of his lips Andres could just make out his fangs.
They weremeantfor Andres to see. Meant to… to remind him…
He felt like the moment Shane had looked him in the eyes and put a word to his pain all over again, the creeping realization that Maul had known what he was to Andres all this time. The reason Andres had always felt on edge with him, defensive and hostile regardless of the mood or their conversation. Andres had forced himself to forget what Maul had done to him, but Maul had kept it just beneath the surface, ensured that it festered.And it had—it had turned to this, panic taut in his muscles, screaming at him that he was too weak to truly defy Maul.
He needed Shane suddenly—to protect him or be protected by him, Andres wasn’t sure—but the instinct was so strong that his attention shifted automatically through the crowd, toward the bar Shane had been waiting in line at. He was there still, accepting a cocktail with one hand, a water in his other.
Maul followed the look.
“Whyis he here?” This interrogation had none of the grouchy roughness that Maul used to question Andres’s attendance, but that was worse somehow. The quiet, deadly tension in his tone made Andres want to scoop Shane into his arms and run with him.
He focused on his own breathing, and the softness of Shane’s smile as he chatted with the bartender, seemingly unaware that their lives were being torn down a dozen yards away. “He’s here,” Andres said, irrationally calm, “because I brought him.”
“You brought your plaything to work,” Maul replied, just as flat, but he flashed that hint of fangs again. “If you give me thishe obeys mecrap—”
“Hedoes,” Andres said, but amidst his fear and fury, his mind snapped to the comfort of Shane’s touch, the thoughtfulness of his care, the way he’d so genuinely meant it as he promised to be Andres’s protection. He couldn’t do this. He couldn’t look at the vampire who spent his life making those around him less than himself and pretend that Shane was anything but magnificent. “He listens to me,” Andres restated, “but not because he’s my pet or my toy. Our respect goes both ways. He’s here because he wanted to be and I wanted him with me. Because I love him. And because he’s my boyfriend.”
It was that moment that Shane finally turned away from the bar, looking back through the crowd. He must not have seen Maul—or else despite all the photos Andres had given him tomemorize, he still couldn’t pick out Maul’s face in the crowd—because his gaze settled purely on Andres and his expression lit up. He gave a half-wave around the drink he held and pointed towards the food. Andres lifted his hand in return, hoping Shane took the signal asI’ll join you in a minute, and notI might have gotten us both killed.
Shane’s shoulders bobbed, and he disappeared toward the appetizers.
Maul snarled. “You fool. He’s fucking with you! He’s a goddamned journalist, and he’s landed in the juiciest story he could possibly have imagined. Of course he’s going to try to worm himself into your good graces, where he can uncover all our dirty secrets and pull the bones out of our closets. You’re not hisboyfriend, you’rehisgoddamnedplaything.”
Andres heard the words, but all he could think was that Shane had left his insulin in the car. He’d gone to pick up appetizers he couldn’t even eat.
His phone buzzed gently in his pocket.
He didn’t have time to reach for it though, because Maul was in his space suddenly, a hair from his chest, and he couldn’t move. Couldn’t breathe. His skull tingled, his jaw and his neck felt as though they were shattering, and he could do nothing.
“You’ve been my greatest asset, Andres. But you’ve gone soft again—let your weak fucking heart get the better of you. If you don’t do something, that’ll kill you just as surely as your pathetic human body would have.”
Maul didn’t have to reveal his fangs any further than the tiny tips that only Andres could see—the way his attention bore down on Andres, he could almost feel their sharpness. Those fangs weren’t the exact pair that had dug into his flesh and ripped his old life away from him, but it might as well have been with how Maul had given the order, looking on unconcerned while it happened.
Maul pressed his palm to the front of Andres’s shirt and twisted his fingers. Strands of the thin fabric ripped. All of Andres’s muscles screamed to pull away, but he felt himself go dead inside; dead and cold, locked in the festering place Maul had cultivated.
“If you want to keep the life I’ve given you, then you’ll put yourboyfriendin a cage,” Maul growled, “or I will put you in one instead.”
He gave a shove as he let go, and with his legs stiff and wobbly, Andres nearly ended up on the ground for the second time that night. He caught himself, just barely. His hands lifted toward his hair, brushing back the loosed strands, and the chill along his skin quieted. It felt better to have his arms up, he realized. To have them in front of his neck. Perhaps he’d been protecting himself for a lot longer than he’d known.
Maul stepped back with the same suddenness that he’d come in. “Do itnow, Andres. So long as you’re compromised by that pest, you’re too much of a liability to have any use to me.”
Then, he left.
Andres’s body didn’t seem to recognize it—his own mind could barely track the place where Maul had wandered back off into the crowd, his heart thudding and his vision tunneling like his boss was still there, just waiting to jump back out at him and finish the job. Whatever that job was.
Somehow, he managed to retrieve his phone. He clicked right past Shane’s text to a call. His hands didn’t shake. His voice didn’t stutter. It felt like the universe was laughing at him. “Are you safe?”
“I think so. I’m hiding near the entrance,” Shane replied. “Why is Maul here?”
