Page 76 of Inhuman Nature

“I think it’s wearing off,” Boris said, gripping the man’s arm and turning him to face him. Shaun looked at the door. It appeared unguarded. With Boris’s attention focused on the man, he might just be able to make a run for it.

But Shaun didn’t try to escape.

He stood and watched as Boris compelled the human to be quiet and forget everything. Shaun looked away, hating how they had to deceive humans in order to survive. He remembered the first time Lawrence had made him feed on someone, right after he’d been recreated. The thought of drinking blood had made Shaun sick. Literally. All over Lawrence’s shoes.

It had been horrifying. He’d still been half in love with Lawrence at that point, despite everything. Shaun had been so naïve, thinking it romantic that someone as mature as Lawrence wanted him. Small, stupid, sheltered ShaunForrester being chosen for something more than a basic mortal existence.

It had been so thrilling in the beginning, right up until Lawrence had shown his true colours.

Shaun had still spent their time together trying to please Lawrence. There was some desperate part of him that would always seek his creator’s approval—the tie between them leaving Shaun unable to rid himself of the feelings he once had.

Shaun had lived for the rare times when Lawrence would show him affection, even if it was something as insignificant as a head scratch or kind word. However, the compliments Lawrence paid were calculated, aimed at Shaun’s appearance and body more than his actual self. Lawrence had enjoyed that much of Shaun. He’d told him often enough it was why he’d chosen him: that Shaun looked young, and that he’d been untouched and unspoiled.

But that was before Lawrence had ruined every inch of him.

It made Shaun feel like spiders were crawling over his skin even now, and he rubbed at his arms as if he might brush them off. Boris eyed him suspiciously, but didn’t comment.

“Can I stay out of the cage for a bit?” Shaun asked, hopeful he would be granted a reprieve.

“No.”

Well, then. Apparently, his life hadn’t changed all that much from when he was with Lawrence.

Shaun’s gaze slid back to the door, but Boris caught the look this time. “Don’t even think about it,” he warned.

Shaun raised both hands in a gesture of surrender.

“Steve,” Boris grunted.

Shaun frowned. “Steve? My name’s Shaun.”

Boris rolled his eyes. “I wasn’t talking to you.” Sure enough, the other vampire who trailed after Lynette like a lap dog came into the room.

The blood Shaun had just ingested heated his face with embarrassment. “Oops.”

Steve led the human from the room. As they passed, the human’s eyes roamed Shaun’s form with undisguised lust. Shaun wrapped his arms around himself, hating how he was the one being looked at like a piece of meat, despite the human having been Shaun’s meal.

Boris pointed to the cage. “Get in.”

Shaun attempted his best pleading eyes, but the big lug was immune. Sighing as if this were all a terrible inconvenience, Boris dragged Shaun over with no further fanfare.

Being deposited back into the cage after the brief taste of freedom was worse than the first time. Shaun touched his back, his fingers finding unmarked skin. At least he’d healed. He stared forlornly at the door after Boris left, hoping beyond hope that Lynette would keep her word to watch over Rake and DJ.

Chapter Eighteen

Rake

Rake drummed his fingers on his knees as DJ drove them towards the car park connected to the chain hotel where Christopher had requested they meet. As per Shaun’s advice about going out after dark, they’d left whilst it was still light and gone for a pub dinner outside of Brighton on the way.

“I wonder where Christopher lives,” DJ said as he drove through the small town. “Do you think he took the train or ran here?”

Rake only grunted in response.

“Maybe he made us meet him at midnight to be more mysterious,” DJ continued.

“I don’t know, Deej.”

DJ chuckled. “I bet he did.” He pulled into the deserted car park, a few dim street lamps the only source of light on the cloudy night.