What Shane knew for certain was that he was in love—in love with this place. The fashion, the role play, the way the swirling of his outfit let him shine with his own kind of glorious masculinity that always seemed unwanted in the larger world and the metal around his throat made him feel like a trophy—all of it. If the Starlight Club was on his rating list, not a single aspect would have lost a star. He’d read the consent agreement quicker than he’d have liked, but what he had taken in set a longing in his chest. This was what he’d been craving, what he’d been hating himself for wanting. Or the healthier, better version of it, anyway.
If he were worried the exhilarating effect of submitting to his vampire would be at all diminished by the knowledge that it was a game, he’d have been so wrong. His gaze shifted between those lips that had tenderly brushed his what felt like a hundred years ago and the fangs that pressed into his skin nearly every night, and the feeling that rolled through him in rushes and flutters was just as bright and bold as fear with none of its sharp edges; all the anticipation and desire alone.
Perhaps this was what he’d wanted all along—this thing that could be so very normal. So very good. Could even, someday, be love, the way it was supposed to exist, not merely as the intoxicating drive for the rush and the bite, but a deeper, selfless thing.
And it made him think, oddly, of his relationship with Andres; their long, thoughtful conversations and the trust that the baring of their souls had forged.
But then Tara William’s name slipped from his vampire’s mouth, and Shane’s mind returned to their purpose here.
Tara’s attention skimmed away from the women she was chatting with, over Shane and his vampire, past them, and into one of the private parlors. She gave a cursory farewell and headed for it.
Shane followed her. He could feel his vampire at his back, one hand resting protectively against the spot between his shoulder blades. The room had filled a little more since they’d arrived, but they wound their way through the portioned-off spaces and around the silk barrier without causing too much of a stir. They slipped into the private room just in time to catch Tara fleeing out of its far exit.
Valentine sat in front of her, a glass of wine in one hand and his fangs retracted. “It seems you’ve come to my home uninvited…”
The door closed behind them, cutting off the sound of revelry from the main room. Shane spun toward it, finding Valentine’s human there, even taller and more muscular up close.
Shane’s vampire stepped threateningly forward, fangs bared, but the human slipped something out of his cuff—a piece of silver, slim and edged. The moment it was exposed, a shift came over Shane’s vampire. He jerked back, bringing one of his arms up to shield his face, like the metal was a tiny sun stirring an instant draft of poison in his blood.
Shane had heard of this while scouting the vampire’s hangouts: the fabled holy silver, sometimes called Roman silver by the rare few who’d survived within the oldest generation. The immediacy of its effects was terrifying to behold, the pain and fear that seemed to tear through Shane’s vampire also lodging itself in Shane’s own chest. He caught his vampire from behind, guiding him away from the terrible metal until he could stumble into the nearest seat. Shane hovered over him, half in his lap with his back to his vampire’s chest like his own body was a shield, and prepared to fight the man and his friend off with his teeth if he had to.
Valentine’s human grunted, his monolidded eyes narrowing skeptically. He slid the metal into his cuff once more and glanced at Valentine. “Well, at least he’s real.”
“What the fuck?” Shane demanded.
His vampire echoed the curse.
Shane shifted off him, giving him as much attention as he felt comfortable sparing. “Are you all right?” he whispered. “Would my blood help?” He knew it was rumored to be good for sun-poisoning, but not whether that held up with holy silver.
His vampire seemed already to be pulling himself back together, though, his grip tight on the arms of the chair and every muscle tensed to pounce. “I’m fine,” he growled. “That was nothing.” His attention didn’t leave Valentine’s human, even as he blinked within his mask like he was having trouble focusing.
Valentine approached, shaking his head. “Why does this shit always happen on my night? I’m quitting, Maddox, I swear. I’ll go back to being our full-time house-spouse.”
“You’ll be lonely with the kids gone,” Maddox objected.
“Or, I’ll be eating cheese and wine in the bath like Diego’s probably doing while we deal with this.”
Shane’s vampire rose, slow but menacing, his jaw tight and one hand on Shane’s shoulder. “We’d much prefer not to be dealt with if it’s all the same to you. If this is about my protectiveness earlier...”
“This is about the fact that you told my front staff that one of my employees invited you here, yet that employee has no recollection of ever doing so.”
“You can hardly blame us, when you make it near impossible to find this place,” Shane’s vampire replied. “Even if our invite did not come directly from her, my human has met Tara before. Call her back in. I’m sure she’ll remember him now.”
Both Valentine and Maddox hesitated, but the statement was so confident that it seemed to slowly take hold of them.
Shane needed to talk with Tara, and this was one way to make that happen. But it seemed cruel to carry on their dishonesty now that they’d been confronted with these people, both of whom were only worried for this beautiful place, one where they provided joy and freedom for a group whose relationships were deemed taboo by much of society. “We should tell them the truth. They’ll be just as affected by everything we’re trying to accomplish,” Shane said.
“Pet,” his vampire started, but then he sighed, rubbing the side of his face. “You’re right. Of course you’re right,” he grumbled. His gaze shifted back to Valentine and Maddox, his tone stiffening. “If we can have a civil conversation…”
“Yes please.” Valentine sounded hopeful, while Maddox only crossed his arms.
Slowly, Shane’s vampire sat back down like he was buckling in for a long conversation. “What has Tara told you about Vitalis-Barron?”
“Unfortunate things,” Valentine replied.
Maddox had none of his hesitation, fiddling with the secret chamber of his cuff as he added, “They’re experimenting on vampires beneath their research complex at the north end of the city and killing them when they’re done. What do you know of it?”
“Not much more than that,” Shane’s vampire said. “Which is why we’re here. We’d like to talk to Tara about it.”
“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 the War on Blood article, 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 quick for my own recollections, before setting it between them. “How do you like working here?”
“This is on record?”
“If you’d like it to be. I’ll keep you and this place anonymous, for your safety.”
Tara nodded with more confidence. “I love it here. I know that might seem egotistical considering the event we’re running right now, but we do versions of these where the humans are in charge, or where the grouping is mixed, or the power play is minimal.”
Shane found himself less attracted to the other varieties of play the club put on, but he still thought it delightful that they catered to a range of desires. “If I might ask, as a vampire who’s been traumatically deprived of your power in the past, how does it feel to work in this particular event? And know that I hold no judgement. Your emotions are appropriate, whatever they may be.”
“I guess…” Tara trailed off, rubbing at her wrists again, but her expression turned soft and genuine. “This might seem weird, but it makes me feel cherished? Vitalis-Barron stripped the value in my vampirism down to what it could do for humans, and being here, with humans who will do anything for their vampires—it’s helping me love myself regardless of what I am and how I’ve been used. There’s something very special about this version of power play, I think. It’s nice to imagine for a night that we aren’t the subjugated, and reclaim the legends used against us in a way that brings pleasure to both parties.”
“You feel safe here, then?”
“Absolutely,” Tara replied. “Since I’ve come back, I’ve struggled to… to exist with humans in a place where I can’t predict whether they’ll be indifferent or hate me or—well, it’s hard. It’s really hard. But the owners of Starlight are paying for my therapy and providing me with blood. They helped me find housing and they connected me with one of their customers who was a physician before she turned. I don’t think I could make myself walk into a medical facility even if I knew they’d actually see me, but this doctor is helping me so much more than I could ever repay.”
That stung in a place Shane couldn’t pinpoint, deep and hot and not guilty, exactly, but guilt’s furious neighbor. For all his annoyance with his routine doctors’ appointments and needle sticks and the overwhelming costs that had come with them since long before he’d been the one shelling out that money, he’d never considered what it would have been like had those doctors refused to help him in the first place. He knew the vampiric turning process could stop a type 2 diabetic’s slow pancreatic failure and insulin resistance from progressing—for all the myths of vampires being undead, they were sometimes more alive than humans in the most literal sense—but his own body was already entirely reliant on insulin injections, not to mention hormone replacement therapy and surgery. Had he fangs among his teeth, would he have been able to transition the way he wanted?
He’d have to ask his vampire about it later.
Shane gave Tara a soft smile. “I’m sorry if this is intrusive, but are you implying that you’ve needed regular medical visits since your escape?”
She glanced away, her arms snaking around her torso in a version of the motion Shane had done himself so many times over the last few weeks. It made the crook of his elbow feel uncomfortably tender, and he was glad for the little fabric sleeve his vampire had given him. “Whatever those fucking—whatever they did to me, it hasn’t been fully reversible,” Tara said. “I think I’m the only one who’s survived this long. The others I escaped with all turned up dead within the month or vanished. Maybe they’re just hiding, like me, or maybe Vitalis-Barron—” The words ended in an anguished growl. “I hope they’re dead, instead of back in that lab. I’d rather die out here then have to relive…” She dragged in a breath and seemed to force herself back to something easier. “Starlight lets me take all the breaks I need. If it’s a bad day, I’ll sit at the front desk and someone will help me do check-ins. I know I sound like a broken record, but this place has given me a community I didn’t think I could ever have.”
Shane’s vampire lurked behind Shane’s chair, fingertips brushing the nape of Shane’s neck, and he made the faintest distressed sound. He’d used that same word for the vampires of San Salud before: a community. But from what Shane knew of the blood trade, that community was nothing like this.
“Why did you not believe you could have this? Did you feel separated from other vampires before?” Shane asked. “Or were they not helping you the way Starlight has?”
“I knew other vampires, sure, and some of them were my friends, but before this—before, you know—I was barely able to buy blood. I’d do freelance ad stuff online, and draw for people on the streets, and pick up gigs when I could, but it was never enough to cover three bags a month and rent. Since I’ve started here, though, I haven’t once gone hungry or slept outside, even if it’s someone’s couch or one of the humans letting me take a few sips before work. But Starlight’s reach is only so big. They make more than most vampire-serving establishments because they have a few vampiric members willing to offer a private service that rich humans will pay good money for.” She grimaced. “That should probably be off the record.”
“I’ll ask Valentine and Maddox before I include it.”
Tara nodded. “They have some money, is what I’m saying, and they put it all back into this community.”
Before Shane could respond, his vampire wrapped a gentle hand around his throat, fitting it just above the collar. His thumb graced Shane’s lips, sending a slight shudder through him. He went quiet, letting his vampire ask in his place, “What would you have liked to see from the vampires you knew before?”
“I don’t know. Most of them were just as badly off as me, and I don’t blame them, really. What could they have done?” Tara shrugged, though her expression was the furthest thing from noncommittal, her brow tight with thought. “But then I hear someplace like Ala Santa took in a bunch of unhoused vamps when they were having hunter problems a couple months ago, and now they have that blood bank charity, right there in the poorest part of town. But we can’t bus in vampires from around the city to one single blood bank. We need more neighborhoods who work together like that, and more businesses that take care of their members the way Starlight does… And fewer places preying on us, like Vitalis-Barron.”
Or the blood dealers, Shane wanted to point out. But as his vampire withdrew his hand, pressing a soft kiss to the top of Shane’s head like a seal of permission, it seemed the wrong time to throw the thing his vampire had committed his life to under the bus, even if he didn’t get along with its greed-driven leader. That was another thing they’d have to talk about later…
Instead Shane went with, “May I ask how you ended up in their labs?”
“A woman of theirs found me at the beginning of the fall, when tourist season was coming to an end and my caricature revenue was drying up. My rent had just gone up, and the price of blood, too, and I didn’t want to be back on the street again. It was so hard to pull out of that last time, and I—”
“It’s not your fault, Tara,” Shane said, as gently as he could.
She nodded, rubbing a hand under her eyes. “They offered to pay me, just for a few tests, the woman said. It would be three hours a night for a couple weeks. When I arrived, things felt… weird. But I signed their papers and answered their questions, and then they brought me down an elevator, and everything…”
“You don’t have to tell me about that if you’re not ready.”
“It was hell,” Tara settled on. Her hands trembled as she tucked them closer against her sides. “I thought I was dead sometimes, and the rest of the time I wished I was. We were so starving, we’d drink any human blood they gave us, regardless of what they put in it. They were always taking samples, or putting us through experiments; medical scans and shocks and injections and hooking stuff into us. We were lab rats—lab rats shaped like people—but because our bodies didn’t work like theirs they couldn’t see that we were people. Or they didn’t care.”
Shane could hear his vampire pacing behind him, as physically restless and unmoored as the heart in Shane’s chest. He couldn’t think too hard about the horrors Tara had been through—not yet. They needed to finish before it hurt Tara any further. “On your last night there, someone broke you out?”
“I don’t remember it well; I was so hungry. I think I killed a lab tech—we all did. I probably would have killed our rescuer too, if he hadn’t run.”
“He wasn’t a vampire?”
“No. But he had one with him—his partner, though I don’t think they were together at the time.”
Shane’s vampire gripped the back of his chair, leaning forward over his head. “So you know them? Where are they now?”
“We were able to connect recently, through a mutual friend who helps them host vampires who need a temporary place to live.” Tara pulled out her phone. Her hands still shook. “They’re good people, but that’s all I know. I don’t want to give out their information without their permission, but I have their number still—I can ask if they’ll meet with you?”
“That would be great, thank you.” Shane retrieved his own cell from between them, stopping the recording. “Please explain to them what we’re trying to do, and that we’d just like to ask them some questions—off the books, if they prefer that. And give them my number.” He pulled it up, letting her add it into her contacts.
“Right,” she said. “I… hope what you’re doing works.”
“So do we all,” Shane replied. He smiled, wishing he could give her something more substantial—even just a hug. But he had the feeling she needed to receive that from someone closer to her, Valentine or Maddox or another from her tight-knit Starlight community. He and his vampire would just have to repay her with Vitalis-Barron’s blood. “Thank you for everything, Tara. We’ll let you get back to work.”
She gave a little bow that looked perfectly in place with her butler’s outfit, and departed through the main door, leaving it half-open behind her. Sounds of joy and pleasure refilled the room like it was lighting the place up, driving out the ghosts and lifting Shane’s heart. They had found what they’d come for with minimal fuss, and they had the whole night ahead of them.
At least, if Shane’s vampire wanted that.
He was still behind Shane, fiddling gently with Shane’s neck like he was thinking of his fangs sliding between the space in Shane’s collar. Or perhaps that was just Shane’s imagination, his mind running away with him in a happy shudder and an intake of breath. He could almost feel the way his vampire might hold him for it, a gentle cage, secure and protective, pressing first his lips, then his teeth…
His breath rustled Shane’s hair when he finally spoke. “You were rather good at that.”
“Rather?”
“Very,” he amended, his voice dark and teasing. “You were magnificent, my little swan.”
“I’d hope so. It’s all I want to do with my life, to learn how the world affects people, and then use that to affect the world myself.” That had been all he’d wanted, but now he found he wanted this just as much: this thrill of being kept at his vampire’s mercy, pushed to his limits, to be ordered to his knees and picked back up again, his obedience rewarded with the tenderest of care.
He was certainly being pushed now, his vampire tracing his way across Shane’s shoulder to fiddle with the fabric that bunched there. His voice was darker still, lips brushing Shane’s ear as he spoke. “That was more information than you needed for just the Vitalis-Barron article.”
“You didn’t stop me,” Shane breathed, the warmth in his chest settling lower with each heartbeat.
“Would you have listened if I had?”
Even if the article was an entirely different matter from the slow relinquishing of his body to his vampire’s hands and fangs, with how gently his vampire was pressing his fingers under the fabric on Shane’s shoulder, he couldn’t help but answer, “Have I not obeyed you thus far?”
“Repetition makes a habit, not a rule.” He pressed Shane’s strap aside, slipping it off his shoulder entirely. As it fell, so did the rest of his outfit, crookedly slipping lower.
It was such a little thing, a tiny unmaking of himself, but it burned through Shane like a wildfire, drawing a delicate sound from between his lips. It turned to a groan as his vampire kissed his shoulder, one soft, purposeful press of mouth to skin. He put the fabric back like it had been nothing, taken nothing out of him despite the longing it sent cascading through Shane.
With a little tug on the chain at Shane’s collar, he murmured, “Come, pet. You have been taunting me too long.”
Shane couldn’t have suppressed the exhilarated shudder that ran through him even if he’d wanted to. He let himself be drawn up, guided by a hand between his shoulder blades and another playing with his chain. The atmosphere of the main room had shifted; the front half had brightened to a pleasant social level as groups split off to chat and drink—both from glassed beverages and the veins of their humans. Shane spotted a few card games in session, and something that might have been charades.
His vampire paused for barely a moment before leading them deeper into the space, where half the electric candles had been turned off, leaving softly flickering glows between dim chairs and dark corners. Conversation was muted here, sweet words spoken in ears and growled through fangs and released like moans. As Shane’s eyes adjusted, he made out the couples’ bodies beyond their outlines and his heart skipped. He wasn’t sure what burned more, the flush in his cheeks or the space between his legs.
At least everyone here was mostly clothed.
Shane’s vampire seemed to notice a moment later than he did, slowing uncertainly. “We can go back?” he asked, his mouth to Shane’s ear.
“No, this is fine.” A third of the couples were only engaged in feeding, their fondling kept to publicly acceptable places. “You can just bite me.”
He wanted to offer more, to offer all of himself to whoever lay behind that mask, but despite his fantasies and how thoroughly this place’s existence had seemed to slip into his bones, turning guilt and fear into hope and faith, he still needed something more from his vampire before he felt fully comfortable being taken like that. And there was the fact that having sex with him was not the same as most men, and even if his vampire had reveled in the scars that had slowly shaped him into who he was meant to be, that didn’t mean he’d know what to do with the rest of Shane without some guidance.
His vampire certainly knew what to do with the parts of Shane he had been granted, though, maneuvering him right past the couches and lounge chairs to a low, cushioned bench up against the corner. Instead of sitting Shane down, he leaned him back, pressing him to the cold, hard surface of the wall, one hand clutching his hair and keeping his head from knocking while he caged Shane in with the other. It sent a chill through him, his heart thrumming with the feeling of being cornered.
“I can hear your pulse rising,” his vampire purred. He slipped a knee onto the bench, fitting Shane between his legs, not touching him—not quite—just there, all consuming, all demanding.
There was nowhere else that Shane would have rather been.
“Give me your neck, pet.”
He obeyed without protest or hesitation, a thrill trembling through him as he tipped his head to the side, lifting his chin. His vampire’s fingers slid along his collar, and the cold of the gems that covered Shane’s pulse fell away. It didn’t matter that he’d spent his life walking the world with his neck on display or that his vampire had bitten him there a dozen times already; the release was like being exposed, laid bare in a new and beautiful way.
“My little swan, aren’t you magnificent…”
“I’m yours,” Shane whispered, low enough that he wasn’t sure his vampire would hear—wasn’t sure he wanted him to, not when Shane himself didn’t know what that meant yet; couldn’t know, until he finally met the stranger behind the mask.
But the little inhale, the slight but sure pressure of his vampire’s body against his, a defined presence between his vampire’s legs that did wild things to Shane’s imagination—they all said otherwise. “Bought and paid for,” his vampire replied, so dark and sweet that it made Shane’s aching turn white hot.
He wanted to roll his hips, to grab his vampire by the neck and press those beautiful fangs deep into himself. But he hadn’t been asked to do that. And he would wait… he would wait.
Wait, as his vampire’s lips brushed his skin and a shiver rolled through him. Then a flick of tongue, rough and wet, sending goosebumps up his arm. Finally, soft and slow, the press of two sharp points, perfectly spaced between the collar’s metal plates. Shane felt taut as a stretched band, strung out in the darkness. As the gentle puncturing of his skin made him whimper, his eyes threatened to roll from the sheer pressure building inside him. Then the venom hit. His lashes fluttered and his knees went weak, but his vampire caught him, tucking one leg beneath his thighs and placing a hand on his hip, pressing him to the wall.
Shane relaxed into the bite, letting himself be consumed.