“After work,” Rake said.
“After work, what?” Shaun asked, blinking slowly.
“After work, the three of us will finish what DJ started.”
Shaun smiled, small and hopeful. “Really?”
“If you would like,” Rake amended.
“I would like,” Shaun said. “Very much.”
DJ had never wanted a day of work to gofaster in his life.
Chapter Eleven
Shaun
It should have been weird for Shaun to sleep in Rake and DJ’s bed. However, as he snuggled further under the duvet, encased in their combined scents, he felt like he belonged.
If only they were there alongside him.
He also should’ve cleaned up before crawling into the bed, but he’d been close to unconsciousness in the recliner before Rake had pulled him up and led him to the bedroom. DJ had even tucked Shaun in.
Despite the comfort and his tiredness, he fell into a fitful state. He didn’t always dream when forced into sleep by the sun, but nightmares plagued his unconscious thoughts. Visions of Lawrence hurting Rake and DJ—making them suffer for Shaun’s actions. It left him hollowed out by the time he awoke in the darkness.
Always darkness.
At least Lawrence wasn’t there to greet him. Lawrence rose early every night, the two of them having opposing schedules. Unlike Lawrence, who fell asleep at sunrise every day without fail, Shaun had trained himself to stay up later and later. But he hadn’t ever risked a peek outside in thoseprecious minutes post sunrise. Part of him was scared of what might happen, but a larger part simply wanted to preserve his memories of the daylight.
As a kid, Shaun had visited Brighton with his parents, and he still remembered the scorching summer heat as they sat on the pebbled beach. He could remember the stickiness of the sweet vanilla ice cream as it dripped down his fingers, melting faster than he was able to eat it. Most of all, he remembered the blinding reflection of the sun on the waves as he stared out across the sea. Thinking of those moments left a lump in his throat and an ache in his chest.
Only the noises from the living room distracted him from his melancholy. He sank further into the bed as he listened to Rake and DJ ribbing each other as they played a game.
Instead of going through to join them, Shaun turned over in the bed and lay on his stomach, reaching around to the bare skin on his back. Rake and DJ’s blood had gone far in healing the scratches on his arms and face, which looked weeks old now, as opposed to less than a day. But if the deep lines were anything to judge by, his back wasn’t faring as well.
Shaun shoved his head into the pillow. Rake’s pillow. It smelled of his minty shampoo. Shaun couldn’t help but think about how Rake had tasted; rich and decadent, as strong as the man himself. DJ’s blood had been different, but just as satisfying; sweeter, with a hint of spice. Shaun’s gums ached as he fought to keep his fangs from dropping. Just the idea of drinking from one or both of them again had him salivating.
He knew, now that he had the clarity of sleep and blood, that he shouldn’t have told Rake and DJ of his true nature. But considering the way he’d arrived at their flat, hiding itwouldn’t have worked. Even though every cell in his body protested the idea, he should compel them to forget about him.
Whilst Lawrence had barely informed Shaun of the vampire laws held up by the territory leaders, the most important had been revealed the night they met.
You cannot tell a human about vampires unless you plan on recreating them as one.
Shaun had now broken the tenet that underpinned all of vampire society, and had no intention of rectifying the transgression. He wouldn’t doom Rake and DJ to a life of vampirism, especially not with the target that was currently on his back.
Before he figured out what the hell he was going to do about Lawrence, however, Shaun resolved to spend some time with Rake and DJ.
Shaun got out of the bed and crept to the living room, peeking his head around the door to check on the couple. They wore twin expressions of concentration as they gamed together on the dark blue sofa, a few mismatched cushions scattered at their feet. Their entire flat was decked out in muted colours and basic IKEA furniture—nothing like the grandness of Lawrence’s house.
Shaun couldn’t have been more pleased with the stark difference.
“Hi,” he said in greeting, leaning against the doorframe and trying to appear casual.
DJ fell off the sofa with a yelp, clutching at his chest. His controller skittered onto the carpet. “Jesus fucking Christ, Shaun. You scared me half to death.”
“Sorry,” he said, contrite, even though he stifled a grin.He wasn’t used to being around anyone who wouldn’t hear him coming.
Rake—whose sole reaction to Shaun’s sudden presence had been to turn his head—rolled his eyes. “You don’t need to apologise. Deej is being dramatic. How did you sleep?”
