Page 29 of Inhuman Natures #1

DJ

“I’m just going to reiterate that I think we should have worn matching outfits for this,” DJ said. The five of them were sitting in David’s car on Lawrence’s street, psyching themselves up for the break-in.

“And I’ll remind you for the dozenth time that a bunch of people in costumes will be much more noticeable,” Rake responded. “It’s the middle of the day. We’re supposed to look normal.”

DJ harrumphed. Nobody had listened to him, despite the whole thing being his idea. Apparently, the rest of them had become expert thieves overnight. “We’d blend in better if we were in camouflage,” he muttered.

“Ugh, I would look shit in camo,” David complained from where he was sitting at the wheel.

“Same,” Van and Sophie agreed together.

“Fine! I’m wrong, and you’re all bloody right.” DJ crossed his arms over his chest, sulking.

“Are you a hundred percent sure we should do this in the daytime?” David asked as a large group of people walked by the car. “It’s busy around here. ”

“Shaun assured us that Lawrence would be always out during the day,” Rake said.

It was the lie they were going for. They’d get in, search the place, and take Lawrence’s laptop for Van to get into if there was no sign of Shaun.

All whilst pretending to their friends that they weren’t worrying about stumbling onto a sleeping vampire.

“And we can’t meet this elusive Shaun of yours yet, because?” David asked.

“He’s away with family,” Rake supplied.

“DJ, I still don’t understand how you got two boyfriends before I got one . Don’t suppose you’re looking for another?” David said, looking over his shoulder.

“No,” Rake said, “he’s not. The street’s empty. We should go in. Bye, David.”

“Thanks for being our getaway driver!” Sophie called back to him, a tad too loudly for keeping their criminal activity on the down-low.

“Use your inside voice, Soph,” Van reminded her.

Sophie’s squeal of apology was, if anything, louder than her original comment.

“Focus, people,” Rake said from the front of their group.

DJ studied the row of houses. They were of the typical sort seen close to the seafront; listed Regency-era houses worth millions and unobtainable to mere mortals like him.

Many of the houses had been converted into smaller flats these days, but Shaun told them that Lawrence’s house retained its original form.

“Honestly,” he whispered to Rake. “What is Lawrence doing with a house so close to the beach? It’s not like he can even make use of it! ”

“Why’s it odd that he’s close to the beach?” Sophie asked from behind them, making DJ jump a foot in the air.

“Oh, you know. Because he’s allergic to the sun,” he said when he recovered, proud of his quick thinking.

“Allergic to the sun?” Van said, a dubious expression on her face.

“Yes, it’s a debilitating condition,” Rake said, pulling DJ forward by the elbow.

“Ow,” DJ grumbled, even though it didn’t hurt.

“Stop pretending, or I’ll give you something to really complain about,” Rake said.

“Don’t threaten me with a good time!”

They approached the door to the house, acting like they had every right in the world to be there.

Van and Sophie moved to the front, and DJ watched with interest as Sophie pulled out a little wrapped pouch and studied the lock.

She made short work of choosing her lock picks before jabbing them into the hole.

After a bit of fiddling, the lock gave a satisfying click. Sophie turned the handle, pushing the door open. The four of them slipped in, Rake going last and shutting the door behind them.

DJ marvelled at the opulence on display.

The hallway wasn’t wide, but everything from the rich, dark colour of the wood panelling to the geometric Farrow & Ball-type wallpaper screamed wealth.

There was an ornate mirror above a thin table, but other than that, the hall was free from the usual clutter.

No piles of shoes or overburdened coat stands for Lawrence—only one brass hook was affixed to the wall beside the door, and nothing hung from it.

Considering Lawrence’s wealth, the art that covered the rest of the walls had to be original pieces.

Not that DJ would have been able to notice the difference.

He was more partial to a ten quid mass-produced IKEA print.

They moved forward as a unit, checking the first doorway to their left.

It led to an open living room, filled with lavish Persian rugs and Chesterfield sofas covered in thick blankets that likely cost more than every item in DJ and Rake’s house put together.

DJ chuckled when he noted there was no TV in the room. Now that was the sign of wealth.

“What the fuck,” Sophie whispered. DJ turned to look at her. She was staring at an uncovered section of the floor, and he followed her gaze to where a dark stain spread across the wooden floorboards. It had to be blood. DJ’s stomach knotted.

Rake caught his eye, concern warring with determination. They needed to be in and out of the house before their blood stained the woodwork, too.

“I’m sure it’s not what it looks like,” DJ said.

“Like someone made a terrible mess of such expensive flooring?” Sophie asked.

“In that case, I’m pretty sure it’s exactly what it looks like.”

“You two have a look around here and see if you can locate a laptop. DJ and I will take upstairs,” Rake said.

They didn’t need to give further instructions. Sophie was already exploring all the nooks and crannies of the living room, yanking open drawers and poking around. Van moved into the kitchen, treading lightly on her feet.

“Together?” DJ asked as he and Rake stood facing the stairs.

Rake slid his hand into DJ’s. “Together.”

Side by side, they climbed, aware of every groan the old wood made. There was a dark runner that muffled their footsteps, but DJ still felt like every move he made echoed in the silence.

When they ascended, the upstairs hall stretched out in front of them, revealing half a dozen closed doors.

“How do we avoid going into Lawrence’s bedroom by accident?” DJ asked.

“I don’t know if we can,” Rake whispered back. He crept forward, pressing his ear to the first closed door. “I can’t hear anything.”

“Do vampires snore?” DJ asked. “Shaun didn’t make any noises when he was asleep.”

Rake gave him an indulgent look. “No, I don’t think they snore, Deej. You take the next door. I’ll try this one.”

DJ took a deep breath and crept up to the closed door.

Rake slunk inside the other room, so DJ steeled his nerves and turned the handle of his own door.

It opened with an ominous creak—the type of ominous creak normally only heard in the genre of horror films DJ avoided.

He made a mental note to buy some WD40 to leave on Lawrence’s doorstep the next time he passed the house.

DJ swallowed as he took in the large room.

The curtains were thrown open, soft sunlight exposing the dancing dust motes in the air.

An empty bed dominated the space, the covers thrown off as if its occupant had only got up seconds beforehand.

There wasn’t much else to the room, especially compared to the lavish furnishings of the rest of the house.

Other than the small bookcase overflowing with well-read paperbacks, there was a chest of drawers with nothing but a lamp atop it, a plain wardrobe, and a trunk at the bottom of the iron-railed bed.

DJ looked inside the trunk first.

It was full to the brim of even more books—most with broken spines—and little knick-knacks.

Some touristy tat, as well as some quirky items of the sort that could be found in the independent shops in the Lanes.

DJ rummaged a bit, a small glass ornament of a wolf catching his eye.

He held it in his hand, testing its weight.

It was only when he saw some of the book titles and the familiar black and red covers that he had a realisation.

He was in Shaun’s bedroom.

DJ’s head jerked up, eyes darting around, as if he might have missed the sight of Shaun somewhere in the room.

But, of course, DJ was still alone.

DJ pocketed the wolf figurine. He didn’t have unlimited space in his bag, but he figured Shaun would appreciate it.

He tiptoed over to the wardrobe next, happy to find some of Shaun’s clothing.

At the very least, it would give Shaun some options other than wearing DJ and Rake’s stuff, which was all far too large for him.

He checked in the chest of drawers, unsurprised at how little clothing Shaun had. The room was more cell than sanctuary, but DJ touched the little wolf in his pocket and smiled. He and Rake would make a better home for Shaun. Even if it was in their tiny one-bedroom flat, it would be a home .

A sudden noise at the door had DJ whirling around, arms raised .

Rake canted his head in that annoying way he did. “Were you going to attack me?”

“I can defend myself!” DJ insisted. He raised his fists in his best impression of a boxer. “See?”

Rake snorted. “Your stance is wrong.”

“What do you know about boxing?”

“More than you, apparently. Anything useful in here? My one was a spare bedroom. Empty.”

“This is— was —Shaun’s room.”

Rake’s head swivelled as he looked around. “Not much to it.”

“I grabbed some of his clothes. See if you can fit the rest in your bag.”

As Rake did just that, DJ padded out to the hallway once more. The next door led to a closet that was full of towels, linens, and blankets, and the one after that was a bathroom. The final two doors lay opposite one another at the end of the hall. Rake came out of Shaun’s room and joined him.

“Which one are you taking?” DJ asked, wanting Rake to be the one to make the final decision.

“You take left. I’ll go right.”

“I bet I’ll be the one to walk in on him.” DJ shuddered. “Bloody hope he doesn’t sleep naked.”

“I can go left if you’d rather?”