“What is it?”
“This one is so broken,” Lorien sighed. “You’ve had much stronger, and they were destroyed within weeks. He has no chance.”
“Those who seem broken may be stronger than they appear.”
Lorien let his gaze drift away with deference to Maddox’s assertion, but Mad knew very well Lorien did not see the value in the pup. There was something intangible about him, a rare quality that only those who had lived and suffered for longer than a century could have any chance of recognizing. To the rest of the world, he was a thug.
William was his clay. Something to be molded. Someone yet to be made. In time, the world would tremble at their feet. For now, scorn was the most obvious reaction. And that was the problem with Lorien. He was young, and so he only saw the obvious. Maddox’s powers were more developed in many ways, but of all the strange and arcane abilities afforded a vampire, he considered the common and shared talent of simple perception most important of all.
It was a long evening. Mad sat perched next to Will’s bed, watching him sleep through the night. He was deep in thought, planning, pondering, coming to terms with the unexpected complexities William had brought with him.
He looked like a simple brute, but there were traces of elegance about his face too, in the line of his jaw, and the sharp descent of his nose, not to mention the wide set of his eyes. There was innocence yet to be destroyed in this handsome human package.
Will began to stir as light filtered through the curtains.
“Shh. No. Stay sleeping,” Mad murmured, brushing his hand lightly over Will’s forehead.
His charge took the suggestion and settled back into slumber. It was satisfying to have some control over him, though Maddox had to admit to himself that he had far less control than usual. Humans were so susceptible to his influence. This one was different in so many ways. He needed careful handling. Thoughtful treatment. He was much more sensitive than Maddox had ever imagined he would be. And much more alluring.
The first time Maddox fucked Will, it had been as a means of sending a message, a shortcut for hours of tedious conversation. Now his desire connected with something deeper. He wanted to enjoy the young man. He wanted to feel his strength and his weakness, his fear and his desire all gripping his cock with that desperate human grip. But Will needed to rest, and Maddox knew all too well that patience could only put a finer point on lust.
6
Morning
The next morning, Will limped down to breakfast with a crutch. He wouldn’t use two crutches, of course. That would be a sign of weakness.
He discovered that Maddox had prepared bacon, eggs, croissants, and fruit juice. Significantly better fare than Will might have expected to enjoy in prison.
“I hope you are hungry,” Maddox greeted him.
Nothing was said about Will’s escape attempt slash suicide plunge of the night before. There was very little to be gained by dwelling on it. The consequences had been painful and embarrassing enough, Mad judged.
“Thank you,” Will said. He seemed subdued, avoidant of eye contact. He grabbed a croissant and pushed it into his face in a way that Mad found rather charmless. Prison was not known for turning out young men with fine social graces. At least he was eating, unlike the previous evening when he had barely choked down the finest foods.
“What is that smell?” Lorien appeared as inconveniently as possible. “Ugh. Food. What are you doing?”
“William needs to eat,” Mads reminded him.
Lorien’s expression reflected arrogant disgust. Young vampires always thought they were so much better than humans for not needing common food anymore. They took pride in their sanguine appetites to a laughable extent, pretending that human food was the very essence of disgust.
“’Bout last night,” Will spoke up. “I, uh… feel a bit stupid. I wasn’t, uhm…”
Before he could stumble through an explanation that would probably have been fairly unsatisfying anyway, Lorien interrupted him.
“That’s because you are. You can’t help it.”
Lorien had chosen to wear a navy blue turtleneck and chinos. He looked like a preppy baby vampire. The clothing choice also served to hide the wound on his neck. The irony of Lorien’s scorn toward Will was that he was equally as helpless, hopeless, and damaged. He simply refused to see it in himself.
“Lorien, you are not helping,” Mads chided. It was as much of a warning as he intended on giving. Boys would be boys, and these two needed to establish a pecking order.
“Fuck you,” Will swore, looking up at Lorien under dark brows.
Lorien was helping in a way. Not in an obviously useful way, of course, that was a given. But he was a sort of socializing factor for Will and might even help him to lose his fear of their kind. Familiarity bred disrespect.