Page 98 of Inhuman Nature
DJ wanted nothing more than to shove his touch off, butresisted the urge.
“We don’t need oxygen,” Lawrence said. “Breathing is just a habit many of us have from our human days. Do you know what happens when you cannot die from a lack of air and yet fill your lungs with water?”
When Lawrence looked at him expectantly, DJ took the hint. “I can imagine.”
“No, I don’t think you can.” Lawrence’s claws grew, their tips digging right into DJ’s chest.
DJ inhaled a sharp breath.
“There,” Lawrence said, looking pleased. “That panic you’re experiencing, it’s a bit like that. But your brain and your body will be at odds. Your body will want to fail, but your brain will tell you to keep fighting. Then your lungs will try to expel the water, but they won’t be able to. Your body will bloat with the amount you’re taking into your lungs and stomach. Your brain will eventually switch off, of course. But then you’ll revive, and the process will begin anew. And so it will continue, ad nauseam.”
“Well, I certainly wanna hurl at that description.”
Lawrence threw his head back and laughed. “Perhaps I will keep you, boy. Shaun always wanted an actual pet. Did you know his parents never let him have one when he was growing up? He was too immature.”
DJ clenched his jaw. “I’m not an animal.”
“We’re all animals. Some of us are just higher up in the food chain than others. Besides, I have it on good authority that you enjoy being leashed.”
Until that moment, DJ hadn’t noticed he’d been nervously fingering the chain around his neck.
Lawrence’s eyes danced with glee. He reached down and pulled on the chain, snapping it as if it were made of string and not silver. DJ stared at the broken metal in Lawrence’s hand for a second before launching himself at him.
DJ found himself face down on the sofa before he so much as landed a blow.
“You could never take me down, even on your best day.”
DJ only managed a muffled, “Fuck you,” into a cushion.
“Eloquent.” DJ heard the telltale rattle of a chain and started struggling. “Stop fighting me,” Lawrence commanded. DJ’s body went limp. He wasn’t sure how long the compulsion lasted, but it was long enough that Lawrence cuffed one of his wrists without DJ making a peep. Lawrence then picked him up like he weighed nothing and ran them both upstairs.
DJ recognised Shaun’s room when they entered. Lawrence threaded the chain of the cuffs through several iron rungs on the headboard and clicked the empty one onto DJ’s wrist, leaving him lying on the bed with his arms spread. Lawrence ripped the bedsheet and used it to stuff DJ’s mouth full of cotton, tying another piece around his head to keep it in place.
“There,” Lawrence said. “Now you won’t be able to bother me.”
DJ tried telling Lawrence his opinion on that through the gag, but he managed nothing more than a few grunts. Lawrence disappeared for a second before returning with something in his hand—the ugly red collar that Shaun had worn to the club. DJ shook his head, but Lawrence ignored his protestations and fixed it around his neck, notching it one hole too tight.
To be without Rake’s collar was devastating, but to wearsomeone else’s was even worse. Tears pricked at the corners of DJ’s eyes.
“Aw,” Lawrence said, dripping with condescension. “Did that hurt your feelings?”
DJ pulled against the rungs of the bed, the clanging echoing in the bare room. He had never been a violent man, but now all he wanted to do was rip Lawrence limb from limb.
Lawrence tapped a clawed finger against the iron. “It’s reinforced. You think Shaun ever got out when I had him chained up like this?” He strode to the door and gave a sarcastic wave. “Stay put. I’ll let you know when I need you again.”
DJ held back his sobs until Lawrence was downstairs. The red tinge with his blurred vision was new, as was being able to listen to Lawrence’s every move from a floor away.
DJ’s emotions were all jagged edges, his senses sharpened to the point it was unbearable.
He tried not to think about Rake. When he did, he thought he might be sick. Even though he’d hated every moment of feeding on Rake, it had been intoxicating. DJ’s instincts had taken over. Deep down, he feared that even if Lawrence hadn’t been forcing him to continue, he wouldn’t have been able to stop.
Keen to focus on anything else other than despair, he yanked at the chains. But it was no good. He was stuck lying there with only his thoughts.
They were miserable company.
He wondered how many times Shaun had lain in this exact position. Worse, he thought about what might have happened in this very bed. It made him nauseous to even consider it. One small comfort was that Shaun remainedout of Lawrence’s grasp. DJ could be brave and handle a night. But memories from the past few hours played on an endless loop.
The shock of his heart stopping and never starting again, yet somehow leaving him more alive than ever before. Rake’s cries when DJ bit into him. The taste of Rake’s flesh under DJ’s teeth, his blood all notes of fear and sorrow, with the underlying pungency of rage. It was as if all the blood that DJ drew from Rake’s veins had been pumped from a broken heart.