Change that lasted was often a slow but steady thing, a constant push forward. Shane reminded himself of that every day as the media cycle churned and the uproar blistered.
Vitalis-Barron was everywhere now—on TV, in every newspaper, plastered across social media. Just as Andres had feared, some people had used Shane’s exposé to platform their own hatred, with factless fearmongering responses a dime a dozen. But there was real, honest investigative work being done as well, some of it Shane’s own as he continued to track down more of the friends and families of the vampires Vitalis-Barron had murdered.
Everything had changed, and yet nothing had. What Vitalis-Barron was doing was not technically illegal—not when their lawyers could argue that regulations on the ethics of research were written about humans, not vampires—but the right court case could change that. And there were plenty in the works.
Still, the article had done something imminently important: it had told the vampires of the world, and everyone who loved them, exactly what to expect from within Vitalis-Barron’s walls. Volunteering flyers were shredded and physical ads vandalized. Safety systems sprang up across the city, and a list of everyone who worked for the lab’s vampire hunting acquisition’s team was plastered across the internet. If a few hunters went missing because of it, well, Shane certainly wouldn’t shed any more tears than the few he’d cried quietly in the bathroom for Natalie.
Whatever became of Vitalis-Barron’s legal battle, they would have to work ten times as hard for every vampire they wanted to hurt, and any time they succeeded, the world would know. It wasn’t enough change—not nearly enough—but it was a useful first step.
And Shane’s exposé wasn’t the only progress the vampiric community was experiencing either. Andres was seeing to that. Piece by piece, he was pulling Maul’s city-wide blood trade territory back into place, wielding the strength and aggression of his vampiric persona like a weapon against anyone who threatened to turn the selling of blood into a system for profit.
With both their jobs in hyper-mode, it meant he was with Shane a bit less, but that just made Shane savor every moment they had together, from lazy afternoons exchanging poetic theories and soft kisses in the townhouse kitchen, to early mornings in bed, where Andres’s mouth would take on a very different purpose, rose gold gleaming at Shane’s wrists and little ornamental chains draped across his bare skin.
He fiddled with the one on his right wrist now, repositioning the fabric of his Starlight Club outfit beneath it. Tonight’s event had been a small one, an artistic, unstructured gathering held in the secluded warehouse-style brewery owned by one of the wealthier human members. Dark silk curtains were strung through the space, creating a whimsical labyrinth that let patrons appear and vanish like sparkling ghosts. It was so different from the gothic parlor setting of the first event Shane had attended, yet somehow every bit as beautiful and magical.
It also happened to land on the three-month anniversary of the night Andres had bought Shane’s life from Maul, though Shane couldn’t imagine the Starlight Club owners were aware of that. Shane certainly hadn’t told them.
At the beginning of the night, he’d worried that interacting with their family in such a sensual setting would be awkward now, but the moment they strode in, Valentine smiled at them like he was on the hunt for a half-clothed delicacy and Shane forgot for a moment that the older aro-ace vampire had openly admitted his sensual prowess here was all an act.
His gaze lingered across Shane’s body, one edge of his lips quirking over the point of his fangs. “I see you brought your little swan; just as beautiful as ever,” he murmured, reaching casually for Shane’s jawline.
The shiver that ran through Shane was so different from their first time—not a fear of what Valentine might want from him, but a thrill of how Andres would react. How he’d protect Shane, as he always did, claiming him body and blood and soul.
A snarl rose in Andres’s throat as he caught Valentine’s wrist with two fingers, a clear message despite the lack of pressure. His other arm tightened around Shane’s waist, slipping beneath the fabric, trailing possessively. “I think you’d know by now that he bleeds only for me.”
That was true, both in the game and out—at least, it would be until Shane was ready to start donating to Jose’s blood bank again. With the amount of time he volunteered there, he could feel his body moving slowly but surely towards acceptance once more. Any week now, he hoped his blood bags would be waiting for a vampire in need, though he was determined—as he assured Andres and Clementine and Valentine and Vincent and Diego and every other goddamned fanged creature of the night who’d decided they cared for him—that he wouldn’t push himself toward anything he wasn’t ready for.
As the night winded down, Shane stepped onto the balcony overlooking a now empty patio. The lights were turned low, the sky awash with stars. A soft breeze swirled through the blossoming trees, twirling up a few of the fallen flower petals and sending them dancing around his sandaled feet. Shane closed his eyes and just breathed. It smelled of the arriving summer.
Perhaps change did come slowly, but they’d get there. And every step along the way—bright or bloody, quiet or chaotic—would be worth it. In the moments between, they had to find the time just to live.
Shane didn’t hear the door open or close behind him, but he could feel the approaching presence in the tingle that ran up his spine, the hairs lifting on the back of his neck. He tensed, the fear and the thrill both holding taut in his chest. The heat of a breath came at his neck, gusting between the chains and plates of his collar, and his stalker’s finger traced over his hip, slipping just beneath the fabric of his outfit to caress the delicate skin. Their other hand trailed between Shane’s collarbones and up his throat to fiddle with the collar’s clasp.
“Master?” Shane breathed.
His vampire made a sound, soft and predatory. “You have such a lovely neck, my swan,” they murmured, their voice as dark as the night and perfectly velvety. “Lean back your head.”
Shane obeyed with a fierce joy that made the world shine and left fire in the wake of Andres’s fingers as they slipped between Shane’s legs. Their fondling brought a soft cry from Shane’s lips. He let himself be touched, be taken, pinned there against the dark balcony in the quiet, empty night, his vampire’s mouth on his neck, gently kissing him between nips of fangs. The orgasm came like a firecracker, bright and sparkling, and Andres gentled their stroking after, bringing Shane down slowly as they finished feeding.
When Andres closed the bite with a series of long, lingering drags of their tongue and squeezed gently between Shane’s legs a final time, he was almost disappointed his vampire hadn’t pushed him harder—held him tight to the railing and made him come a second time with his body bucking against it. But then Andres hummed, kissing him beneath the ear, and said, “I’m thinking of putting you in a new outfit next time. One with a little pocket just the right size for that vibrator you connected to my phone.”
The shudder that worked through Shane’s body was a beautiful thing, all lust and anticipation.
Andres must have felt it, Shane’s back pressed to their chest, because they laughed softly and dragged their thumb along Shane’s lower lip. “Would you like that, little swan?”
“I’ll like whatever you want from me, master.”
Andres wrapped one arm around Shane’s waist, folding their free hand against the front of Shane’s throat with such care that it felt like a shield instead of a noose. “I want you to know your place, my pet. To know that I can take what I want of you, when I want you, and you will always submit.”
Shane couldn’t have faked the whimper of desire that escaped him even if he’d tried. “I’m yours,” he whispered.
And his vampire replied, “I love you.”
The pressure of Andres’s arms turned warmer somehow, less sensual but more affectionate as he continued to hold Shane, burying his lips in Shane’s hair and snuggling against him. Shane relaxed into the hold, turning his head to kiss his vampire on the cheek. Shane the blood slave would never have dared, but Shane the boyfriend received a little happy noise from his partner and a tug of teeth on his lower lip.
“Was that nice?” Andres asked, sounding proud but a little hesitant.
“It was lovely,” Shane reassured them, snuggling against their chest. “You could have pushed me even more, though. And I like the vibrator idea. For the right event, anyway.”
Andres beamed. “Diego mentioned one in July that sounded like it would fit. They’re really leaning into kink for it. Sexual torment, or something? Maddox is planning the subordinate side of things.”
“That sounds delightful.” Shane pressed his lips to the two little fang scars on Andres’s neck. He could feel his partner’s fingers circling a line along his shoulder, so soft and slow Shane didn’t think Andres realized he was doing it. “How was your last meeting with Dr. Ivey?”
The two of them were taking some sessions together and some apart, and Shane was still not quite sure whether to push Andres for details or wait to see whether he shared them naturally. The question didn’t seem to bother him, though, his posture perking up but his body just as relaxed. “It went well, I think. We spoke a lot about my family. And… Natalie.”
Her name still felt like a curveball every time it came up. But Dr. Ivey had told Shane that was normal. She was complicated, and her death was complicated, and Shane and Andres were allowed to feel complicated things for it, and to keep feeling them as long as they needed to. “Do you miss her?”
“Every day.” Andres held Shane tighter. “I used to get a text or two, a meme, or a picture—just something little. Maybe I’d pulled back, but she was still there.”
“And now she’s not,” Shane concluded.
“And now she’s not.”
“I miss her too. You haven’t found anyone who knows…?” Shane couldn’t bring himself to say, where her body went. Of course the vampires who’d attacked her had taken it for the blood, if they could, but where they dumped her after was still a mystery.
Andres shook his head, then buried his chin against Shane’s shoulder. “That part of Maul’s old group is still running in two or three separate but impenetrable blood-dealing gangs. I’ll have to start pushing at the one on the East side of the inner city if they keep edging up against Ala Santa, but I don’t want to turn it into a thing until I have to.” He fiddled with Shane’s hair—a distraction, Shane knew, from all the ways his body wished it could hide itself. “How can they not understand that we still have too much trouble with Vitalis-Barron to fight among ourselves?”
Shane ran his thumb along the side of Andres’s neck, offering him a measure of protection, no matter how metaphorical or unnecessary. “Perhaps it’s easier to pretend you hold some power, than to admit you have none at all.”
A little shudder went through Andres, but he leaned into Shane’s touch, holding tighter to him. “I told myself he wasn’t in control of me. I planned the heists. I took his paychecks. I bared my teeth, and every now and then he’d half-listen to what I had to say. It was easier to be his employee, even if that meant my community suffered, than to accept that I was his plaything.”
“You’re making the blood trade better now. And people are noticing.”
“I wish I could give all the bags away.”
Shane had reminded Andres enough times that he and his new team of infiltrators and distributors did still need money to survive; not everyone could run a charity funded by their rich human family. Instead, he kissed his good, kind-hearted vampire and said, “When we tear down capitalism, then you can.”
Andres hummed and kissed him back. He kept kissing, turning Shane in his arms until they were chest to chest. Gripping under Shane’s thighs and behind his back, he picked him up, spinning him once before setting him on the railing, their lips still locked in a soft but hungry union. Shane wrapped his legs around Andres’s waist and lost himself in it: the softness of Andres’s skin, the way his hair felt beneath Shane’s fingers, the curves of his face in the backlight of the brewery’s upper windows. His life, his being. He was everything and more.
A part of Shane had known all of that the moment they’d locked eyes at the Halloween gala, but even then he could never have fathomed just how much Andres was capable of meaning to him. His vampire had been his obsession, but now he was Shane’s life in an entirely different way, and he knew he was not alone in that.
Andres cupped the side of Shane’s head as he kissed tenderly down his jaw and along his neck, but he paused at the edge of Shane’s collar. After a moment of hesitation, he straightened just a little, reaching into his pocket.
“I um, have something to give you,” he said, and Shane swore he was blushing.
Shane lifted his brow, trying to act nonchalant despite the sudden pounding in his chest. Andres was definitely blushing. Oh god, Shane was probably blushing now too, he could feel the heat spreading across his cheeks. “What is it?”
He could not fathom the answer, even when Andres withdrew a small velvet bag from his pocket. Andres cleared his throat, nearly handing Shane the bag before seeming to think better of it and pulling open the drawstrings on it himself. “Mercer made it to fit into the base of your collar, but you can wear it anywhere.” As he spoke, he drew out a delicate rose gold choker. It caught the light of the windows above them, and its single dangling ruby gleamed. Andres spread it between his fingers. “No one else will know what it means, but I will. And so will you.”
Shane’s already thrumming heart caught, a force like wind and fire rushing beneath his skin. He whispered the words, as though anything stronger would break the magic of the moment. “Put it on me.”
Andres’s fingers slid along Shane’s skin, trailing ever so gently. He wrapped the beautiful piece around Shane’s neck, his gaze fixed on Shane’s like he was taking in perfection. As the lock clicked into place, it sent a shiver along Shane’s skin.
He touched the hanging ruby, the stone still warm from Andres’s skin. “Tell me again,” he asked, “who do I belong to?”
“You, Shane Cowley, are mine.” His vampire growled, his hands gentle around Shane’s neck and his face bright with love and delight. “And I am yours.”
For more of Shane and Andres, check out the free short story His Glorious Monster for their first meeting and the exclusive post-book bonus scenes only available through my newsletter!
THE STORY CONTINUES…
The villains may be unmasked, but they aren’t finished yet. Stay tuned for another Guides for Dating Vampires book, where the husky blacksmith who made Shane’s collar hides a vampire tangled in his work shed as Vitalis-Barron’s new star scientist comes calling.