"You son of a bitch!" Lark snarled as one of Nikolai's men hauled her toward him, kicking and fighting. "You treacherous snake!"

Nikolai ignored her, striding to meet Jelena. "You have the duke secured?"

"Yes."

The vampire lunged on the edge of its leash, smelling the blood that dripped from the gash on the back of Charlie’s head.

"Soon, my precious," she cooed, stroking its bald, flaking head. "Perhaps you could have a taste of this one…."

She edged toward Charlie.

"Do you think that wise?" Nikolai asked, eyeing the creature with distaste.

"Squeamish?" Jelena asked him.

"I know you think it tamed," he replied, "but once it gets a taste of blood it won’t stop."

"We’ll see."

"And I thought you were trying to break the duke? What better way than to show him his captured rescuers?" Nikolai ground the cheroot beneath his heel. "He thinks they’re coming to save him. Why not let it eat the lad in front of him? It will also be safer there, down in the cells, in case it loses control."

"Don’t you dare!" Lark kicked out, downing the man holding her. "Charlie!"

He reached for her, but Lark was jerked back, a fist in the back of shirt hauling her to her knees.

Nikolai squatted in front of her and captured her jaw in his gloved hand, squeezing. "Don’t make me kill you right here. Behave, and I might cut your throat before she throws you in the cell with that vampire."

"I curse you," she whispered. "I don’t know what they did to you, but you’re a monster."

"Yes," he whispered, "I am. You would be wise to remember that."

"Ah, poor girl," Jelena chuckled. "You’re breaking her heart, Koschei. Come. Let us show Malloryn how close he came to being rescued."

Lark was thrown to her knees in the stone cellars, pain searing through her flesh as Charlie cursed beside her. There was no sign of the duke in the room. Only an enormous steel sarcophagus in the center, its face carved with a demon screaming in agony.

The smell of blood came from within, and drops of crimson dripped from the bottom of the sarcophagus.

There was someone inside it.

Nikolai circled the sarcophagus. "Is he dead?"

Jelena caressed the device, almost lovingly. She’d put the vampire in the cell opposite them and it paced the bars, its scaled tongue tracing its lips as it smelled the blood. Lark shuddered. Jelena hadn’t yet decided which one of them she intended to throw in with it first.

Maybe both, she’d said with a dangerous smile. Young lovers dying in each others arms…. How sweet.

"Not yet. He will wish he is though. My Iron Maiden can break the hardest spirit."

Horror filled Lark. She didn’t know this Malloryn, this duke, but Charlie had been so determined to rescue him she almost felt a kinship. What kind of tortures had he endured?

"Wake up, Malloryn," Jelena said, laughing as she knocked on the sarcophagus. "I have brought you another gift."

The crank on the side of the sarcophagus turned and a shuddering sound came from within. Malloryn grunted.

"An inch," Jelena noted, checking the control panels on the side of the device. "It almost seems a shame to let him out."

She yanked on the crank, hit several buttons, and steam hissed from the sarcophagus as the lid shifted.

Malloryn screamed, and as the lid lifted, Lark could make out the hundreds of silver-tipped iron spikes retreating into the lid.

Suddenly, "an inch" made perfect sense.

"I’ve brought you a gift, Malloryn." Jelena caressed his face, her fingers coming away bloody. She licked them. "Open your eyes and look who I have captured."

"You bitch," Charlie whispered, at Lark's side. "You evil bitch."

Jelena turned to face him, her remaining eye glittering coldly. "That is enough from you. Balfour does not need you living." She drew her pistol and Lark screamed as she slammed her shoulder into him, hammering him to the floor—

It all happened so quickly.

The pistol fired, the bullet whizzing past Lark's temple.

Jelena cursed under her breath in thick, guttural Russian, but Nikolai grabbed her by the throat and slammed her back into the sarcophagus. His fist punched into her side, coming away bloodied. Something silver glittered in his hand.

The pair of them grappled, and Nikolai stabbed her again before she threw him across the room. He rolled, coming up onto one knee and drawing a pistol from within his waistcoat smoothly.

Jelena’s eye lit with fury. "You traitor! I will kill you for this!"

"You will try," Nikolai replied, shooting her right in the center of her chest.

The Black Wolves with him leaped forward, surrounding Jelena, knives flashing and blood flying. Charlie hauled Lark to her feet, and she drew her knife.

"Excellent acting," Chiyoh said, drawing her katana. "I almost believed the pair of you myself."

"Thanks," Charlie said, with a wink at Nikolai. "And thanks for not hitting me too hard."

"Hurry up and get him out!" Nikolai snarled. "Before that vampire gets the scent of blood."

Charlie staggered to the sarcophagus, his eyes fighting to make sense of what was within.

Blood covered the duke from head to toe, welling from the hundreds of holes in his skin. Not an inch of him had been safe from the spikes.

"I’ve got you," he breathed as he met Malloryn’s eyes. There was nothing human left in them, only the blackness of the craving. "It’s Charlie. You’re safe. You’re safe now."

He picked the locks of the manacle strapping Malloryn’s right wrist down as the duke’s chest heaved, lips spewing blood as he coughed. Though he’d been wearing clothes at one stage, most of them were shredded and bloodied.

The duke bared his teeth. "Don’t… free me."

His fingers curled into claws and Charlie could see how much he was fighting himself right now.

"I need blood!" Charlie snapped over his shoulder.

Lark appeared, thrusting her flask at him. Her eyes widened when she caught a glimpse of the duke. "Oh."

"Give me some space," Charlie requested, unscrewing the flask and tipping it to Malloryn’s lips. He eased his hand behind Malloryn’s head and helped him to lift.

The duke was a powerful, private man. He wouldn’t want anyone seeing him like this.

Malloryn drained the entire flask dry.

There was another thrust over his shoulder, and he set that to the duke’s lips too. Malloryn’s right arm clutched at his shoulder, his fingers clenching in Charlie’s shirt like a child’s.

"We’ve got you," Charlie told him, again and again. "You’re safe now."

Malloryn finally broke away, pushing at the flask. "Where’s Ava?" he asked. "Have you freed her yet?"

"Where is she?"

"Cellar."

Charlie turned and looked at Kincaid and Lark. He couldn’t leave Malloryn, not like this. Though the duke had slaked some of his thirst, the blackness overwhelming his irises hadn’t faded. He was still dangerous.

"We’ve got her," Lark said, grabbing Kincaid’s hand. "Come on. There’s nothing we can do here. Let’s go rescue Ava."

The pair of them dashed away as Charlie leaned in and hauled Malloryn into his arms. Blood welled, and the duke thrashed weakly as Charlie dragged his mauled body off the iron spikes in the bottom of the machine.

He couldn’t let himself dwell on what it would have been like to be trapped in there for weeks. The duke was almost as tall as he was, and had been in prime fighting condition the last time he’d seen him, but starvation and blood loss had stripped any remaining softness from Malloryn’s bulk. His cheekbones were all sharp edges, his eyes black with rage.

"Set me down," Malloryn rasped, determined to be dignified despite the horrendous pain he must be in.

Charlie eased him onto his feet, and the duke leaned heavily upon him.

"’Ere," Blade said, swinging his coat off and draping it over Malloryn’s shoulders. He offered his own flask. "You’ll need more blood."

"The others?"

"At Balfour’s palace. They’re distracting him. We needed the time to get you out safely," Charlie replied. "How are you feeling?"

"You fucking traitors!" Jelena screamed as several of the Black Wolves lifted her by her arms and legs.

"Better," Malloryn spat, his black eyes locking upon her.

"Perhaps a taste of your own medicine, Jelena," Nikolai said coldly, holding the sarcophagus lid open. "Put her in."

Kicking and screaming, she writhed like a cut cat as they hauled her inside the Iron Maiden and strapped her down with the manacles that had recently trapped the duke.

The lid swung shut, Jelena alternating between begging for mercy and promising them all a gruesome death the second she got free.

Despite everything, bile rose in Charlie’s throat. It was one thing to offer a clean death, quite another to allow her to suffer in this monstrosity as she’d made others suffer.

He took a step forward, but Blade grabbed him by the shoulder.

"’E needs vengeance, lad," Blade murmured. "Let ’im be."

"Wait."

The hoarse word came from Malloryn’s throat.

Nikolai tilted his head. "You wish to do honors, da?"

Malloryn bared his bloodied teeth, and staggered toward the machine. He grabbed the crank. "I’d like nothing better."

And then he hauled it all the way down.