Page 5 of Inhuman Natures #1

Shaun

Shaun was barely through the front door before Lawrence continued the rant he’d started outside the club. “That little harpy thinks she can get away with whatever she wants. Not to mention those two…”

Shaun tuned out the words Lawrence used to describe Rake and DJ.

Whilst Lawrence directed most of his ire at Lynette for stepping in, the rest was aimed at Shaun’s wannabe saviours.

Rake and DJ were misguided in their attempt to protect him, but he couldn’t stop thinking about how they’d made him feel.

Seen. They’d made him feel seen .

Shaun had grown used to being coveted for his appearance, but it was rare for anyone to scratch beneath the surface. When Rake and DJ had looked at him, Shaun could tell they’d seen more than anyone else had in a very long time.

“Are you listening to me?” Lawrence asked.

Shaun nodded, but stayed silent. He knew better than to interrupt Lawrence’s flow. He also knew that Lawrence didn’t actually care if Shaun listened. Lawrence just liked the sound of his own voice .

As Lawrence continued ranting about Lynette’s dearth of leadership skills, Shaun took his collar off and hung it on the hook where it lived when not around his neck, taunting him every time he passed it.

His mind strayed back to Rake and DJ. They’d caught his eye the previous time Lawrence dragged him to the club.

The couple had the kind of dynamic Shaun craved; one built on trust and care and love. Rake’s careful way with DJ—his precise movements when conducting a scene—stirred feelings in Shaun he’d thought himself incapable of.

The last time Shaun had seen them, Rake had tied DJ up in intricate shibari, the stark white rope standing out against DJ’s dark skin.

DJ had seemed completely at ease, and got that glazed-over expression Shaun sometimes noticed in other subs’ eyes.

By the time Rake stepped back to admire his handiwork, Shaun had been entranced.

DJ was a vision in white, his body contorted in a way that arched his back, with a single piece of rope between his teeth.

It pulled his head back, showcasing the bliss on his face.

He wore the ropes like his body had been built for the purpose of being tied; the indents in his flesh exquisitely accentuating his full figure.

The appreciation in Rake’s eyes was the true revelation, however. He had gazed at DJ with worship . As if by merely existing, DJ did Rake the biggest service. It was the sort of expression from a lover that Shaun could only dream of.

Lawrence snapped his fingers in front of Shaun’s face, dragging him back to the present. “I’m hungry, pet. Go procure me some food.”

Shaun blinked. “Your usual? ”

“What else?” For a centenarian vampire, Lawrence sure enjoyed acting like a spoiled brat.

Shaun nodded and turned to leave.

“Those two are lucky I don’t have a taste for their types,” Lawrence said.

Shaun stopped in his tracks. He hadn’t meant to, but pure instinct drove him to react to the danger at his back.

“Oh, so that’s what finally caught your attention?”

Shaun turned around, unsure of what to say. Images ran through his mind of what Lawrence could do to the serious Dom and the kind sub, and he struggled not to react to the threat.

Lawrence repeated the same pattern of behaviour in every territory they stayed in; he’d play at civility until it no longer suited him, and then he’d move them somewhere new. Lynette seemed to enrage Lawrence on a deeper level than most of the other leaders. Shaun hadn’t yet figured out why.

However, Rake and DJ’s involvement might push Lawrence over the edge sooner than Shaun had anticipated.

Shaun had stopped caring what Lawrence did to him after the first few years. Existence was easier when he sleepwalked through his nights as Lawrence’s slave. Tonight was like Shaun had woken up from a long, deep sleep by having ice-cold water poured over him.

“Nothing to say?” Lawrence’s smirk had Shaun gritting his teeth to stop his fangs from dropping.

“They’re harmless,” he said, trying to keep his voice level.

“They stuck their noses where they didn’t belong.”

Shaun wouldn’t win the argument, so he chose distraction instead.

“The sun’ll be up in a couple of hours. Do you want food or not?

” It was the closest he’d come to snapping at Lawrence in the past decade.

He scuffed a toe against the rug, thinking about how pathetic he was if he couldn’t even look his creator in the eye when being mildly disagreeable.

“I suppose you better get a move on, or there will only be slim pickings.”

Shaun followed Lawrence’s gaze towards the window to see the black sky fading to blue. He nodded deferentially. “Thank you, Master.”

Lawrence didn’t spare him another look. Shaun preferred it that way.

The wind tugged on his long sweatshirt as he sped out.

He headed towards the seafront, where the clubs would be open late, the stragglers partying into the wee hours as they imbibed whatever substances they favoured.

Shaun couldn’t feel the cold, but the miles of exposed skin on the human clubbers still made him shiver.

Shaun sat on the hard granite steps that led down towards one of the popular beachfront venues. The dark waves of the sea rolled in and out, frothing over the pebbles. Shaun watched them for a while, wishing that was all he was there for.

But no.

He was on the hunt.

He waited to see who would be the unlucky human for the evening. Lawrence never strayed far from his type: attractive men who would be carded no matter where they went.

One group caught his attention—young men and women, all drunk or high or some combination of the two. A few of them stumbled, and all were unaware of the predator in their midst. Even if they noticed him, none of them would see Shaun as anything other than a peer.

He trailed the group as they meandered back into the city, splintering off as they went their separate ways.

He identified early on the one that Lawrence would desire.

Whilst Shaun was tempted by the stocky guy with dark hair and the thick thighs of a rugby player, it wasn’t up to him.

So, when the short blond guy with a heart-shaped face waved an exuberant goodbye to his friends, Shaun stalked him to his front door.

The guy fumbled with his keys, dropping them to the ground. Shaun picked them up before his prey had so much as bent down. “Here you go,” Shaun said.

“Oh my god, thank you.” The guy gave a nervous giggle. “Are you from the downstairs flat?”

Shaun smiled, guileless and warm, even though he felt sick at his own actions. “It’s no problem. I live a little further away, but you should come with me. Follow me home. Don’t be scared.”

The usual millisecond of confusion passed across the guy’s face: the last vestige of his free will making itself known before his mind slipped under the compulsion.

Shaun had done this so many times he’d thought himself immune to the turmoil.

But, as he led the young man away from the sanctuary of his home and towards Lawrence’s waiting arms, his stomach lurched.

“Tell me your name,” Shaun said. Knowing made it worse. But not knowing ensured the guy would be nothing more than a victim.

“Toby.”

“I’m Shaun.”

Guilt grew with every silent step that brought them closer to Lawrence. The worst part, however, was when Toby slid his hand into Shaun’s as he hurried him along, pretending to be his friend.

It made him think about DJ’s soft hands; how his long, strong fingers had entwined with Shaun’s own. How right it had been, even if only for a moment. A pang of want hit Shaun like a tidal wave, but he tamped it down as he approached the house.

A second after Shaun had ushered Toby through the front door, Lawrence was upon them. Shaun winced at the sound of Toby hitting the wall as Lawrence shoved him face first into it.

The tang of fresh blood hit the air as Lawrence bit Toby’s neck. Shaun’s own blood wetted his mouth as his fangs cut into his bottom lip, waiting impotently until Lawrence gave him permission to feed.

After indulging for a while, Lawrence twisted to face Shaun, his mouth painted a lurid red.

Lawrence leaned in. Shaun closed his eyes as Lawrence flicked his tongue into his mouth.

Toby’s blood was sweet to the point of being cloying.

Despite that, Shaun chased Lawrence to follow the taste when he withdrew.

Lawrence’s lips quirked in amusement as he denied Shaun, jerking his head out of reach.

Ashamed, Shaun pressed himself back against the front door, as if the solid oak would hold his hunger in check if he gripped it tight enough.

“You chose well, pet. He’s divine.”

Shaun tried not to let Lawrence see his elation at the praise. Affection came so rarely these days that Shaun ate up any crumb Lawrence offered.

Toby cried out. He’d probably been making noises the entire time, but Shaun hadn’t realised it until then. His bloodlust still got the better of him when he’d not fed in a while.

“He’s being too loud,” Shaun said. It wasn’t out of a desire to stop any neighbours or passers-by from hearing the anguished sounds, but to stop from having to hear it himself.

“I like it when they cry,” Lawrence said. He peeled Toby off the wall with a brutal yank of his hair. Toby’s face was wet with tears, though his eyes were dull, the compulsion keeping him pliant even as his body reacted to the pain.

“See? Isn’t he pretty like this, pet?”

“Yes, Master.”

“You can have some yourself now.” Lawrence manipulated Toby like a puppet on a string, pulling his head to the side and exposing the gushing wound on his neck.

Shaun surged forward and fastened his mouth over the twin cuts, sucking carefully lest he waste any of the precious sustenance. Shaun tilted his head to avoid grazing his fangs against Toby’s skin, that kindness being the only one he could afford.

But then Lawrence opened another unnecessary wound on Toby’s shoulder, ripping his t-shirt at the neck to expose the freckled skin that lay underneath. They fed some more, Lawrence occasionally pulling at Shaun’s nape to draw him in for brutalising kisses.

Shaun hated how he couldn’t deny the pull he felt towards his creator.

Another cry from Toby had clarity descending on Shaun. “We need to stop before he bleeds out,” he said. He forced his fangs to recede, ignoring the temptation to continue.

Lawrence gave him a macabre grin. “He can stand to lose a little bit more.”

“Master, I need enough time to return him home.”

Lawrence pouted, but listened. He might not respect Lynette, but he stuck to the rule of leaving no dead bodies. Not out of compassion, of course. He’d informed Shaun of the true reason: murder investigations were an inconvenience, and Lawrence had better things to do with his time.

Lawrence laved his tongue over Toby’s bleeding cuts, cleaning them so they appeared as nothing more than needle marks and scratches. He’d taken more care than Shaun realised.

A small mercy.

Shaun wiped his mouth, his hand coming away streaked with blood. He licked it off, his skin warmer than usual with the infusion of fresh blood.

Toby slumped in Lawrence’s hold. Thankfully, there were no more tears.

Shaun pressed his forehead against the wall, gathering himself before lifting Toby out of Lawrence’s hold. “I’ll take him back to his flat.”

“Mmm. Thank you, pet. I’ll be in my bed when you get back. I’d like you to join me.”

Shaun frowned. He couldn’t recall the last time Lawrence had invited him to his private room.

“You’re supposed to be thankful,” Lawrence sniped. “I’ll rescind my offer if it isn’t appreciated.”

It horrified Shaun, the speed with which he bowed his head. “It’s appreciated, Master. I promise I’ll be quick. ”

“Make sure of it.”

Shaun, however, didn’t keep his promise.

Thanks to the cursed magic that created their kind preventing him from compelling an invitation, Shaun had to talk his way into the flat, Toby’s housemate none-the-wiser he’d welcomed a monster indoors under the guise of a concerned friend.

After depositing Toby in his bed, with a strict compulsion to forget everything, Shaun took the time to leave a fresh glass of water on the bedside table. An insignificant act, but one which would make the morning easier on Toby.

Shaun found himself wandering the streets.

It would be light soon, the morning sun less than an hour away.

It wasn’t the first time Shaun had left it late to retreat to the safety of indoors.

But it was the first time in a while he’d considered remaining outside beyond the time when the darkness reigned.

He made his way slowly through the city, with only the occasional car zooming past for company. He was heading in the direction of the house when he caught traces of a familiar scent in the air and followed his nose instead.

Which was how Shaun found himself perched on a windowsill, peeking through a tiny gap in the curtains to a bedroom that contained the forms of two sleeping men.

It was also how Shaun almost got caught by the sun in his distracted state, making it inside Lawrence’s house with minutes to spare. He pressed himself against the door for a few seconds before retreating upstairs. His feet dragged as he walked towards Lawrence’s room.

Even as he settled himself in beside Lawrence, who grumbled about Shaun being too late to be of any use, all he could imagine was what it would have been like if he’d slipped in between Rake and DJ instead.

But Shaun didn’t dream that day of being pressed between the couple.

He only saw Toby’s terrified face.