Laney stumbled to her feet and looked around without really seeing the barren room that contained nothing but a misshapen mattress, a thick book with a plain black cover, and a few candles. Relief that the vampire had left battled with the raging lust screaming for release that he’d left behind. Laney pressed a hand to her stomach and took deep breaths. She had no idea what had come over her, but she could still taste his sex in her mouth. And she wanted more.

For the hundredth time since she’d been attacked in the desert, she wondered what the hell was wrong with her. There had to be something wrong with her. No normal woman would feel this way. She couldn’t seem to decide whether to be terrified or aroused when it came to the monster that had chosen her as his prey.

And he couldn’t seem to make up his mind, either. One minute he was threatening her life, and the next he was kissing her like he would never let her go. His emotions, or lack thereof, were giving her whiplash. The outcome remained to be seen, but she wasn’t planning to hang around waiting for him to make up his mind. Her very life may depend on it.

Picking up her backpack, a pack of matches, and the tallest candle, Laney cupped her hand around the wick to keep the flame from going out and went back to the passageway the vampire had just tore down in his eagerness to get away from her. Walking as fast as she could without causing the flame to extinguish, she tried not to think about what else might be living down there. Things like bugs. Or worse—rats.

It seemed to take her forever to get to the cave-in. Setting the candle down on the wooden plankway, she eyed up the pile of debris, searching for the best way to get to the top. The right side was the least steep, so she walked over and attempted to get a handhold to start pulling herself up. But every time she grabbed onto something, it would cause a small avalanche of rocks, dirt, and bricks, and she would have to jump back out of the way or risk being buried alive.

After trying every inch she could reach with the same result, Laney had to give up. She now knew why Dante had leapt to the very top, instead of climbing it. But it was at least twelve feet up, if not more. There was no way she could make it up there. She couldn’t jump that high, and the walls offered nothing to grip.

Trying not to feel discouraged, Laney picked up the candle and went back the way she had come. She wasn’t giving up. There had to another way out of there.

When she reached the vampire’s “room” again, she walked the perimeter, searching for another entrance. The candlelight threw shadows everywhere along the uneven brick walls, but her vigilance paid off. She found a doorway she hadn’t noticed at first that revealed a makeshift bathroom of sorts that was really nothing more than an antique commode, and another passageway on the opposite side of the room. No, not a passageway. More like a tunnel. As she walked past the lit candles on the floor, she picked up a second one. Blowing it out, she stuck it in the outside pocket of her backpack. It wouldn’t hurt to have a backup.

Laney dropped to her hands and knees, and started crawling down the narrow passage before she had time to talk herself out of it. It was slow going with her holding the lit candle. She had to crawl forward on only one hand, slowly, so it didn’t go out. She tried to stay away from the sides, and anything that might be scurrying along outside the ring of candlelight. More than once she thought she heard the scratching of little feet up ahead in the dark, but she gritted her teeth and kept on.

Within a few minutes, a smell that reminded her strongly of copper wafted toward her. Laney wrinkled her nose, but kept going. Shortly thereafter, she came to another room. It felt larger than the one the vampire slept in, the shadows crawling further into the corners. As she crawled the rest of the way out of the tunnel, she lifted the candle and made her way slowly into the interior. Her steps faltered and eventually stopped as she took in the scene around her. Horror froze the blood in her veins.

“Oh my God,” she whispered.

Similar to the other room, the walls were made with brick, and the floor and ceiling were wooden planks. To her right were former archways, now closed off with brick. But there were chains anchored into the brick with wrist and ankle shackles on the ends. Laney’s eyes travelled the length of the room. Everywhere the candlelight touched, she saw devices made of wood with chains, leather straps, and sometime rope. Some were tables, some were like upright wheels, some were benches. Some she had no idea what they were or what they could possibly be used for. A lone wooden chair with arm and leg straps sat directly in front of her, waiting for its next victim. Its surface had some kind of dark stain splattered all over it. And scattered among the different pieces were hooks on the walls with blades glinting in the flickering candlelight. Knives of every type and length, and other things that she’d never seen before. She could only imagine their purpose.

Moving the candle to the right, she found a flat wooden table covered with things she’d only read about: handcuffs, whips, leather straps with metal spikes sticking out of them.

Laney realized then what the dark stains were. They were bloodstains. A scream began to form in her throat, and she slapped her hand over her mouth to smother it, fighting to get her emotions under control. She needed to get out of there, and she needed to get out of there now.

Forcing herself to stay calm and focus on what she was supposed to be doing, Laney walked the circumference of the room with the candle held in front of her, searching for another way in or out. But there was nothing. She even felt along the walls for secret levers or seams not visible to the naked eye. But all she found was old, crumbling brick that nonetheless was completely unmovable. Setting down the candle, she stuck her hands on her hips and looked around for something to use as a ladder that would get her to the top of the cave in. She tugged at the chains, thinking she could throw them to the top and maybe it would catch on something so she could pull herself up. They wouldn’t budge. Everything was bolted down or welded together. There was nothing here that would help her.

Grabbing one of the knives down off the wall, she stuck it into her pack, made her way back to the tunnel and got the hell out of that room as fast as she could crawl, for Laney swore she could hear the ghostly wails of the tortured souls that had suffered at the hands of the vampire following her. His words about the woman he’d murdered by orgasm popped into her head. Surely, he hadn’t had sex with that woman in that room.

Laney cut off that train of thought as she made her way back to the vampire’s room. She searched it again, and repeated her trek up and down the first passageway without any luck. The truth of her situation began to hit her. There was no other way out. She was well and truly trapped.

Physically exhausted and emotionally numb, she went back to the vampire’s room. Sinking down onto the mattress, Laney rolled over onto her side and pulled the thin blanket over herself. It didn’t do much to keep the dampness out, and she curled herself into a ball. As she lay there trying to get warm, she wondered why Dante hadn’t taken her directly to his room of torture. Because her instincts were telling her that this room that she was in was not a place he normally brought “guests.” It was a big deal that he left her here. Somehow she knew that. But what she didn’t know was if he would change his mind.

She thought about the knife she’d taken out of that room, and it occurred to her that she could take the decision out of his hands. A stillness came over her at the thought of taking her own life, and for a few minutes, she seriously considered it. At least that way she would die on her own terms. But in the end, she couldn’t bring herself to act upon it. She was a survivor. She’d survived running from her home with her father. She’d survived his death, and she’d survived even greater loss. And she would fight for her life until she couldn’t fight anymore. Because that’s what she did.

It was funny, but as Laney lay there in the dark, surrounded by his things, by his loneliness, she felt a sort of kinship with the vampire. He was a killer, yes. But so was she. It was a fault in both of their natures. The only difference being that he did it by choice, and thrived from it. The first life Laney had snuffed out had been necessary. The second had taken her heart and soul with it.

Is this my punishment then?

If it was, it was nothing less than she deserved. She hadn’t meant to do it that second time, and as the tears started up again, she wished there was a way to go back before it had happened. So she could hold him once again.