Page 36 of Inhuman Natures #1
“Stay,” Lawrence ordered, like DJ was a dog. There was a faint nudge in DJ’s brain that had him unable to move. Lawrence grabbed one of their wooden chairs, bringing it over and placing it in the centre of the room. Rake came back in, a coil of his white rope looped over his trembling hand.
Lawrence continued to speak to them like they were animals. “Sit.” He gestured towards the seat. Rake’s jaw tensed as he stared back, unmoving. “Now,” Lawrence said, that odd echo much more apparent with this second command.
Rake sat on the chair as directed, body rigid. DJ was still where Lawrence had left him, kneeling on the floor near the chair. He contemplated shouting to alert the neighbours, but it would only put anyone who tried to help in danger right alongside them.
So DJ watched, helpless, as Lawrence expertly tied Rake to the chair, hands flying so fast they blurred. A sharp snap punctured the silence as he broke the rope with his bare hands. Rake’s breathing turned ragged, and by the time that Lawrence was done, his breaths were more like wracking sobs.
“Rake,” DJ whispered. He couldn’t say anything more. He wanted to tell him that it was all going to be okay—that they would both get out of this. But DJ wasn’t able to promise anything, and Rake wasn’t one for false affirmations.
Lawrence stood back as if to admire his handiwork. Rake was tied to the chair by both legs and around his chest, with his arms pulled behind him in a way that DJ knew from experience made your shoulders ache immediately.
Lawrence’s skin had recovered already, appearing only pink and new on his face when he turned and gave DJ a wicked smile. “I knew I should never have let you borrow my pet for even one night.” Lawrence’s eyes flashed. “So, Rakesh, I’m going to take your boy. Tit for tat.”
“No—” Rake didn’t seem to have any other words, breaking off with a wounded noise that speared DJ’s heart.
Before DJ could even think about running, Lawrence had him by the throat once more. He yelped as he was then pulled onto the sofa, right on top of Lawrence, so that they both sat facing Rake.
“No, please don’t do this,” Rake said, eyes glistening.
Lawrence pulled DJ’s head back by his hair and bit him. It wasn’t even close to the careful way Shaun had fed from him.
This was a ravaging.
DJ scrabbled at Lawrence’s arms and face, trying to push him off, but Lawrence didn’t so much as flinch. Lawrence bit harder, tearing at DJ’s skin.
DJ had never seen Rake be scared of anything. But Rake’s broken expression in that moment burned itself into DJ’s mind. If DJ survived the night, he didn’t think he’d ever be able to rid himself of the memory.
Lawrence pulled back. “You don’t taste half as bad as I expected you to.”
“If you want me to thank you for the compliment, you’re barking up the wrong tree,” DJ gritted out. His neck burned like it had been set alight, and a bone-deep exhaustion clung to his limbs.
The tendons on Rake’s neck jutted out as he strained against the ropes. “Stop!” he yelled. “Do whatever you want to me, but stop this now. Let him go.”
“Rake, no,” DJ gasped. He didn’t even have the energy to shout.
Lawrence ran a claw down DJ’s face, ripping his skin and making DJ’s cheek flare with pain as his tears mingled with the open cut. “I don’t intend to let either of you live, so your pleading does nothing.”
DJ thrashed in Lawrence’s grip as Rake continued to shout. A shove from Lawrence had DJ face-planting on the floor. He whipped his head up to see Lawrence humming to himself as he tied one of their dishcloths around Rake’s mouth.
“Hush. I don’t want to deal with any nosy neighbours,” Lawrence said, shaking his head like one would at a naughty toddler.
Knowing he went unwatched, DJ crawled towards the door. If he could escape… If he could get them some help…
Before he even got halfway there, Lawrence hoisted him up and back onto the sofa, biting into him once more.
Lawrence drank. And drank. And—
Rake’s streaming tears were the last thing DJ saw before he shut his eyes.
Ambrosia. DJ swallowed, and it kept coming. More, he wanted more . He moaned in delight as the warm liquid coated his tongue and mouth. God, he could just drink this forever.
Muffled shouts broke the moment and drew his attention to his closed eyes. He cracked them open to see what on earth was going on.
At the sight of Rake tied to a chair opposite him, memories came flooding back. DJ yanked at Lawrence’s wrist where it was pressed to his mouth, trying to dislodge it. Lawrence just pressed his flesh harder into DJ’s mouth, and he couldn’t help but swallow more blood.
Even knowing what it was, DJ needed it. Whatever drove him to suck at Lawrence’s wrist to consume as much as possible evaded his conscious thoughts, but he snapped back to reality when he locked gazes with Rake .
Rake’s eyes were wide and terrified, and DJ needed that expression to disappear.
This time, when DJ pushed Lawrence away, Lawrence let him stand. DJ reached out to Rake.
Lawrence caught DJ’s hand before he made contact. “Not yet, boy. Keep calm.”
Rake mumbled through the gag and struggled in his restraints. DJ rubbed at his own mouth with his free hand, grimacing at the blood that transferred to his skin. “I’m not dead,” he observed.
“I beg to disagree,” Lawrence said, licking at his own wrist.
“Huh?” DJ should have been panicking. Why wasn’t he panicking? Something was very, very wrong with him. Rake was in danger, and DJ was—
“I recreated you,” Lawrence said, finishing his unspoken thought. “And now I’d love you to feed from your dear Rakesh.”
“I-no. No, that’s not… What?” DJ glanced at his blood-covered hands and then away again.
“You’re a vampire.”
“No,” DJ insisted. “I would know if I was a vampire.”
Lawrence rolled his eyes. “Drop your fangs and bite your boyfriend.”
DJ descended on Rake’s neck, biting and sucking as hard as he could. Even Rake’s muffled scream didn’t stop him, even as his brain and his body warred to take control. Lawrence’s blood might have been delicious, but Rake’s blood tasted familiar—like returning home after a long, hard day.
“Keep drinking.” Lawrence’s command curled around DJ’s brain, and he knew he was being compelled.
But his awareness of that fact didn’t help him stop.
He drank, inhaling Rake’s scent of fear.
It was sour: all sweat and alarm mixed with the salt of tears.
The worst part, however, was that it didn’t stop Rake’s blood from tasting as good as it did.
DJ drew his fangs out of Rake’s neck, grimacing as his flesh tore. DJ’s teeth throbbed and his gums ached, but his addled brain hurt most of all. Every pained sound Rake made echoed in his ears, and no matter how much he wanted to shut them out, he couldn’t.
Lawrence gleefully shoved DJ’s face back against Rake’s neck. The lure of blood was too enticing to resist.
But then Rake’s pulse began to slow, his blood flowing less easily into DJ’s mouth.
DJ twisted to look at Lawrence. “Please don’t make me do this.”
Lawrence looked like he was about to tell him to get back to it, but then cocked his head and swore. DJ glanced at the crack in the curtain. It appeared to be dark outside, the only light that of the street lamps.
Lawrence didn’t compel DJ to drink any more, just tugged him away from Rake as easily as a parent would a small child. Even as they moved towards the living room door, DJ only had eyes for Rake. Slumped in the chair, head bowed—DJ couldn’t tell if Rake’s chest was moving or not.
“Rake!” he cried, trying to move towards him, but Lawrence dragged him out of the room before he could get within touching distance.
“Stop. Fighting. Me,” Lawrence said. DJ’s limbs became limp and useless, and he was sure that if Lawrence didn’t have hold of him, he would have crumpled to the floor .
“Let me stay with him,” DJ pleaded.
“No. You’re coming with me and you’re going to do it quietly and easily, understand?
” Lawrence didn’t give DJ a chance to reply.
He whisked them downstairs and out onto the street, then threw DJ over his shoulder.
Everything happened too fast for DJ to comprehend.
He got one last glimpse of their street, and then everything blurred.
Whether it was the compulsion or simply shock, DJ didn’t have the strength to resist Lawrence as they travelled through darkness. Awareness only came back to him when he was deposited on the front stoop of a familiar house.
“Well, boy. Looks like you’re stuck with me for the foreseeable.” Lawrence turned his back on DJ to open the door, and a crushing panic set in.
His ears buzzed, his stomach was in knots, and he was shaking from head to toe. He pressed a hand to his chest to calm himself, like he would so often do to Rake.
It was only then that DJ noticed he had no heartbeat.