Andres could not keep his nerves together.
He wasn’t normally like this—not before a con, or a theft, or even a seduction. The knowledge that they would be talking to their only lead into Vitalis-Barron soon, the one thread he’d followed so hard to get here, was wearing on him, certainly. But the thing that kept fluttering up his stomach and tightening his lungs was far simpler, and somehow even more important: their pre-meeting dinner was, technically, his first date with Shane.
They hadn’t gone out together like this before, no mask, no pretenses, their goals for a future—a normal, healthy future—stated out loud. Things had felt easy and natural back at Shane’s apartment, but they had both been preoccupied with their own tasks, delegating them to different spaces, physically if not mentally. But now…
Andres could no longer ignore how pathetically his body had been reacting to Shane’s sudden touches—his grabbing on the boardwalk and his shaking of Andres yesterday. Even that little pressure had ignited in Andres’s mind like agony, like anguish, all his vampiric strength rising at once to throw the feeling off. And it had hurt Shane in the process. Shane, who did not deserve that.
Andres would just have to contain himself better. Keep enough distance. But not too much distance.
Just howmuch distance was the right amount when out on a public first date with your bought-blood-turned-willing-role-play-slave who also wanted a normal relationship on the main?
Andres checked the time as he pulled into the lot for the little Mexican hole-in-the-wall he was supposed to meet Shane at. He was twenty-three minutes early. Huh. Better that than late, at least.
He opened his phone, shooting a quick here early, let me know when you pull up text to Shane before flipping to his thread with his only decent cousin.
Cat Mom
Going on a first date, can you believe it?
(Okay so technically we know each other already and we’ve kissed before but it’s the first Real Date and I’m FREAKING OUT.)
Hell Creature Extraordinaire
Ugh, you suck. (Congrats bitch!)
What’s he like? I need all the deets!
And more importantly, what are you wearing?
Cat Mom
He’s brilliant and messy, adorable freckles, sharp as fuck but does as he’s told (you know, in the sexy way.) And in the limited time I’ve known him, I already can’t imagine life without him, so there’s that.
I’m dressed like a fashion devil, obviously.
He sent a selfie after, the camera angled down at himself, still sitting behind the wheel in the leather and rose-lace jacket he’d had on during his run-in with Shane at the Fishnettery—now that he could finally wear it without giving himself away—over a sheer crop top, with his dangling necklace from the Starlight Club, and a pair of simple studs in his ears, black on one side and red on the other. His thick black leggings were mostly out of view, but they could not possibly have been tighter, filtering into lace around the calves, the muscles accentuated by the heel of his sandals. It was a more feminine look than he usually wore outside the security of his own home, but Shane had told him that he was magnificent, and Andres wanted to share this with him, this wonderful, beautiful, magnificent part of himself. As anxious as he was, he felt real in his own skin, like all the pieces of himself had come together for this.
Hell Creature Extraordinaire
You’re such a NERD.
(I love it, though. I’d still kill for one of those jackets, you know.)
Cat Mom
Then people might realize I’m related to you!
Hell Creature Extraordinaire
I haven’t seen you in person in like a fucking year, I don’t think people even know we’ve ever met.
Honestly, I forgot what you looked like until that selfie.
Cat Mom
Way to guilt trip?
He meant it to be teasing, but there was a very real pang in his chest that told him otherwise. He missed her, regardless of his fear that she’d figure out what he was. And beneath that, he worried that perhaps there was another reason he’d pulled away, one that had nothing to do with her, and everything to do with him. This distance felt safer. Far fewer things could hurt him over text.
Cat Mom
Yes, fine, we can hang out soon. We’ll see a movie or something, like the old days.
Hell Creature Extraordinaire
You know my parents still blame you for corrupting me. I think CPS now arrests teenage boy-appearing individuals who take their child cousin to R-rated shit just to watch her laugh at the blood.
Cat Mom
I needed the emotional support, okay. You were always braver.
(I miss spending time with you, though. I really do mean it when I say we should go out.)
Also I saw someone who looked like the pics of your newest boyfriend last night and it tripped me so hard.
Hell Creature Extraordinaire
Ha, maybe it WAS him. (The fucker.)
I know we’re in an open relationship so it’s not technically cheating, but god, it does kind of feel like cheating when he’s all mysterious about where he’s been and shit.
It’s fine though, you know? It’s just a rough spot.
When he looked up, Andres spotted Shane hovering around the entrance of the place with his phone, somehow making his simplistic green t-shirt and ragged brown scarf look like a fashion statement with half his dirty-blonde waves pulled up and his long lashes catching the streetlights. Andres couldn’t help but smile. As he watched, the text came through: Here!Just took my insulin so we should get onto the food 3 Hyped for this Cali Burrito.
Cat Mom
My date’s arrived, but I promise popcorn is on me next.
(Love you, Natalie.)
Hell Creature Extraordinaire
Love you too, you idiot.
He slid out of the car and jogged to the front of the shop, opening the door for Shane with a little bow. “My dear Cygnus.”
“Thanks,” Shane laughed. His gaze traveled down Andres’s outfit, lingering on the tight lines and revealed skin. He sucked his lower lip into his mouth like it was an impulse and the softest flush bloomed on his cheeks. “You look magnificent.”
“As do you,” Andres replied.
And everything seemed all right—seemed normal.
Andres let Shane order and collect their food—a pair of medium horchatas, a California burrito, and the plain cheese quesadilla that Andres could reasonably assume had not a pinch of garlic in it—and waited for him to slide into one of the old red plastic booths that hugged the shop’s tiny stall before sitting down across from him.
Shane handed over his phone. “This won’t take long, I promise.”
“I’m happy to watch you rate things all day.”
“You’re an enabler.”
“I cleaned your apartment.”
“A better life enabler, then.”
“I am going to do incredible things to one specific part of your life, that’s for certain.” Andres grinned and purposefully licked the canine where his fang would normally sit.
He could almost feel the way Shane shuddered, the little inhale as his imagination surely ran as wild as Andres’s. They hadn’t planned on going home together tonight, but it would happen at some point. For now, Andres was thrilled just to edge Shane along, to play cat and mouse with him like they had all the time in the world. Andres wanted that stable future with Shane more than he’d ever wanted anything else: wanted to keep filming his Rate Things videos for him and watching the little flush build beneath his freckles and smirking as he ran the top of his foot along Shane’s ankle beneath the table, binding them together with a casual touch. He turned the camera onto Shane and started filming.
Shane was a natural, his smile bright and his expression just a little cheeky. “We’re at Jaramillo’s, and this time I’ve got my incredible partner—that’s the spicy kind, yes—behind the camera.” He gave a little wave. “Say hello to the fine people back home?”
Andres grunted a mmhmm and zoomed in on Shane’s lips, settling there long enough to catch the roll and shine of them and remember what it had felt like to pull the lower one into his own mouth, fangs sinking in. He hummed in satisfaction again.
“Or make a noise, I guess.” Shane shrugged. “He’s good at those, if you know what I mean. Breaks the scale for sounds that will make you—”
“Shane!” Andres snapped.
His little swan only smirked and began unwrapping the California burrito from its paper, before opening up the tortilla to get a close up at the contents within: French fries, steak, sour cream, guacamole, and a scattering of cheese. “Let’s see how this bad boy compares to our last three attempts.” Then, he began fishing out the fries and eating them solo.
Andres watched in wonder as his boyfriend gave a thoughtful sound.
“Crispy outside despite the burrito-fication, good internal temperature—a little grainy, though. It’s picked up a sufficient amount of sour cream but the guac just isn’t sticking. Look at that? You still need some clumping to successfully eat your guac with de-burritto’ed fries, but this is outrageous. I give it a six out of ten for French fries unstuffed from a burrito, with a bonus half a star for the crack in the shop’s front window that looks weirdly like a bullet hole.” He scooped up a few pieces of the meat from his open pile of pickings, placing it into his mouth with a sensual roll of his tongue and lick of his lips. “Mm, carne asada is good though. You know I do like myself some meat.” With that, he winked.
Andres stifled a laughing snort as he shut off the video. “You’re going to turn yourself into a thirst trap like that.”
“Are you jealous?”
He shrugged. “Just don’t let any of them bite you.”
“I would never.” Shane rewrapped his burrito and shoved a proper bite into his mouth.
Andres started on his quesadilla, cursing how common an ingredient garlic—even just the powered form—was in most modern cuisines. There was more than one reason he hadn’t had a sit-down meal with either side of his primarily Mediterranean family since he’d turned. The fresh tortillas were fantastic though, and sitting there, watching Shane as they ate, was absolutely joyous.
“I do want to donate to that blood bank in Ala Santa again though,” Shane said between bites. “I think you mentioned you’d ehem, take care of me afterward?”
“Your apartment will be so clean,” Andres teased.
“Villain.” Shane grinned, reaching across the table for one of Andres’s hands.
Andres’s lungs tightened and panic shot through him. He restrained himself enough to merely pull back, but the adrenaline remained, pounding like a war drum through his chest. Over something so slight, so ridiculous? His soul wanted to scream, and his body wanted to cry, one hand frantically pushing back his hair like it was part of someone else’s arm. God, fuck, what was wrong with him?
Shane watched him in confusion, and Andres forced himself to reach out in his place, pushing through the pointless anxiety to draw his fingertips over the back of Shane’s hand and encircle his wrist tenderly. He gave the softest squeeze. Shane didn’t look quite satisfied, but the couple who’d been at the counter for the last few minutes interrupted them.
“Hey, um, if you’re not Shane and Andres, this is going to be super weird,” the man in front said, both thumbs looped into his jean pockets. He wore a shirt with a set of fangs and the phrase Bite me baby!, and his grin seemed to fill up his broad jaw like it was meant to be there. “I’m Wesley, this is my Vincent.”
“His fiancé, named Vincent,” his dark-haired companion clarified, like this was a common introduction mishap.
“Hi. I’m Shane, yeah.”
Vincent blinked, fiddling with his fingerless glove. “Do I know you from somewhere?”
A hint of pink appeared in Shane’s cheeks. “I post rating videos online?”
“I don’t think that’s it…”
“Maybe I just look like someone else?” Shane shrugged. “My memory for faces isn’t the best though, I’ll be honest.”
“After the first time we met, he obsessed over me for months, and he still didn’t recognize me when we ran into each other at a bar,” Andres explained.
Wesley cackled, a bold, exuberant sound that was thoroughly joyous and seemed to light up his fiancé’s face as well as his own. “Vincent had to hang out with one of our vamp friend’s boyfriend three times before he realized the man had literally saved his life before.”
Vincent groaned. “I’m never living that down, am I?”
“Never.” But the way Wesley smiled at him was all affection and sunshine, like the blushing vampire was the one thing that held his world together, and his fiancé looked back at him with all the joy and adoration of someone who knew their partner inside and out and loved every last dusty corner and broken piece of hardware. It was so soft and sweet, so healthy, and Andres envied it. He and Shane would have that someday, he decided. He’d make it true, anxiety be dammed.
Vincent’s brow shot up. “The library, last fall! You asked me about memes or something.”
“What, really?” Shane laughed. “I do kind of remember that. I was pissed about the fluff piece I’d been assigned.”
“Right, yeah, it was a vampire thing. You wanted to focus on the framing of vampirism in the media but they wouldn’t let you.” Vincent whistled. “Fuck, I guess you really are a journalist then.”
“It’s not like we were doubting or anything,” Wesley clarified, in a way that sounded like they were definitely doubting. “And you want to know about—”
Vincent cut him off with a poke in the side. “Maybe not here.”
“He’s right,” Andres said. “Can we walk?”
He finished up the last few bites of his burrito while Shane wrapped his for later, and together they headed outside, walking along the edge of the quiet strip mall. Vincent and Wesley passed their horchata back and forth between sips. The spring night air was still a shade chilly, but it didn’t bother Andres the way it would have before his turning. Shane tucked his bare arms across his chest, though, fluffing up his scarf. Andres swore a little string of metal glimmered beneath the fabric around his neck, and his heart skipped before realizing it was a regular old necklace, not the rose gold of Shane’s collar.
Andres slid his jacket off, wrapping it around Shane’s shoulders without a word. He received the softest kiss in return, leaving his lips to tingle pleasantly and his heart beating to a new, happy thrum.
“Vitalis-Barron,” Andres said, “tell me about it. What was the security like? How did you break in? Do they have records—proof of what they’re up to? Photographic evidence? Anything?”
“The lab’s in the lowest basement level, but there’s a couple of security people in the building with the elevator that leads there—or there was when we entered. I don’t know if they’ve increased that since. There’s also the stairs we took out, but the doors only open one way.” Wesley shrugged. “We didn’t really break in exactly. I passed Vincent off as a vampire I’d caught for them, and after I was finished poking around for the info I wanted, I just kind of released the vampires they had imprisoned there.”
Andres stopped alongside his brain, the whole system coming to a crashing halt of confusion and horror. “Fucking hell. That worked?”
“In hindsight, I think we just got like really, really lucky.”
“You think.” Andres rubbed a hand up his face, like that could ground himself to the stupidity of these amateurs. “Had you ever run a con like that before?”
Wesley lifted a brow. “That’s considered a con? Does that mean Vinny and I are con artists now? I should put that on my resume.”
“Clearly not,” Andres grumbled. “Con artists have at least some skill in the trade.”
“You’re so offended, it’s adorable.” Shane wrapped his arm through Andres’s, and Andres managed not to flinch under the suddenness of the motion.
It felt right once he’d settled there, though, not the threatening grip Andres’s mind seemed determined to interpret it as. “This leaves the Vitalis-Barron Met-inspired gala as our best option still.”
“We were already planning to go,” Shane said.
“To generally poke around, yes. But without a plan or more thorough knowledge of the complex, it’s unlikely I can get us anywhere useful.”
“I know a vamp who used to work there,” Wesley said. “Maybe he could help?”
Andres’s heart did a little leap—a smaller, more hesitant one than it had when Tara had sent them here, and Shane had sent them to Tara before that.
Vincent nudged Wesley in the arm, and Wesley glared at him. A silent battle seemed to wage between them, then Wesley sighed, and Vincent turned back to Andres. “We did get something from Vitalis-Barron while we were there. It might not help you with your break in, but it could be useful for Shane.”
Wesley grunted in the back of his throat. “It’s a list of all the vampires they’d captured; test logs and death dates and everything. But the fact that I have it—that I haven’t given it to anyone—is the only reason Vitalis-Barron hasn’t come after us yet. We weren’t exactly sneaky.”
“Fucking hell,” Andres repeated, because the situation kept calling for it. He really had to stop getting his hopes up just to crush them.
But Shane seemed to be taking the news with the opposite mentality. “Do you understand what logs like that could mean? If they got to the right people? If the whole city could look at the data and connect the dots? Saying Vitalis-Barron has an unethical lab hidden in their basement means nothing, but showing the whole city—the whole world—exactly what experiments they’re running and who they’re hurting would be substantial. It could make people stand up against them. It could stop them for good.”
“Or, it could barely hinder them, with their money and lawyers backing their every move,” Andres objected. “And we’d have ruined the lives of two innocent people, people from my—from our community.”
“Look, if it was just me on the line, I’d happily go to jail in order to get the truth out there. But if they take Vincent…” Wesley shook his head. “You didn’t see that place. It was…”
“Tara explained some,” Shane said, his voice soft with sorrow.
Vincent tucked his face against his human’s neck, kissing his skin softly, and Andres didn’t know two people could look so sad and so happy at the same time outside of a Renaissance painting.
“We won’t do anything that will hurt either of you,” Andres promised. “We are not in the business of trading lives.”
“What if we focus on Vincent’s capture and escape as part of the article?” Shane asked. “Then at least if Vitalis-Barron comes for him, everyone will know who to blame. From what we’ve gathered, they’ve been purposefully taking vampires with limited connections—we connect Vincent to the whole city, and it’ll be far harder for them to touch him and get away with it.” He frowned, his focus shifting to Wesley. “I know this doesn’t help you. If Vincent was just there as a prop, he could avoid charges, but they might still come after you for—”
“Fuck that.” Wesley’s words were sharp, his tone immovable. “I will suffer whatever comes, as long as it means this city’s vampires can sleep safer at night. That my vampire can sleep safer.”
Vincent wrapped an arm around him, pleading softly, “Wes, no…”
Wesley shook his head—shook from his core outward—not the way Shane did, from fear or exhilaration, but with a fierce, boiling rage. “We have to. I don’t want you to lose me, even for a few months or years. I—” He broke off, drawing in a ragged breath. “I would hate that with everything in me. You are my heart just as I’m your blood. But how many vampires have lost everything because of Vitalis-Barron?” He turned fully toward Vincent, cupping the side of his fiancé’s face with such a perfect mix of tender affection and intense fire that it nearly masked the sadness in his voice. “We protected ourselves. We gave ourselves time, and it’s been incredible—the best six months of our lives. But we can’t be selfish forever.”
“We could leave,” Vincent protested. His eyes glistened.
“Babe.” Wesley spoke the word like it was theirs and theirs only. “We both came back to San Salud because as much as it hurt, we didn’t want to be anywhere else.”
“I know.” Vincent pressed his lips against Wesley’s palm, just standing there, breathing him in. It seemed like a moment Andres and Shane shouldn’t have been witnessing, but as Vincent muttered, “I hate this,” he turned his attention back to them. Though his fire was colder than Wesley’s, it burned every bit as strong. “You say you can get into the upcoming gala?”
“Yes,” Andres answered, and he could feel Shane’s tension and anticipation like it was his own.
Vincent breathed in, then back out. “Dr. Blood—Vitalis-Barron’s head of research—is doing more than just the hideous work that’s happening in their basement lab. She offered our friend a research position on a special project after he was fired. He turned it down but…”
“Now you want to know what it is,” Andres finished for him.
Vincent nodded. His arms wrapped tighter around his fiancé, who leaned into him, neck exposed and eyes alight with something murderous. Wesley replied in his vampire’s place. “It’s a wild card, one that could take her down, or take us with it. It’s not worth dying over. But if you were already prepared to go then, hell, let’s see what we find.”
Shane lifted his gaze to meet Andres’s, a fierce grin on his face. “You up for a little investigative journalism?”
Andres kissed him, a soft brush of lips as he replied. “Only if you’re down for a crime.”
Shane sighed his acceptance.
“Regardless of what happens,” Vincent cut in, “promise me one thing?”
“Of course,” Shane replied, and Andres echoed him, his heart and mind in unison. Whatever the sacrifice, whatever the cost. If these two were risking their lives together to help the greater vampire community, then he could too.
His face still half buried in his fiancé’s hair, Vincent’s lips parted, his fangs slipping down in a baring so feral it would have sent shivers down Andres’s spine before he’d turned. “Promise me you’ll make those villains pay in the end.”