Rafe

Over the course of the last few hours, I've seen the other two male vampires who originally were a part of my abduction, plus Coraline, and Lucas. The wizard has been curiously absent since he left my clothes. Cora wasn't too happy I had the garments on, but she wasn't willing to strip me down to my skivvies with no reason other than her own mean-spiritedness behind her.

While the numbers against me aren't in my favor, I have no doubt that with the right opening and enough surprise, I can get Dria free.

Playing weak has its advantages. Lucas and Coraline stand outside my cell door bickering about what to do with the other two vampires from Dria's seethe. Apparently, Paul and Drew walked right into a trap. I don't blame either of them for their failure. From what I understand, Drew has never dealt with anyone associated with the Tribunal before.

I stare at the stone wall of the cell, anger at myself being forefront in my mind. Now, I'll have to get their sorry asses out, too. Dria and I should have known better. Beard the lions in their den. Yes, indeed. That really worked out well. Then again, neither of us had any idea the depth of this conspiracy when we started.

Is there truly an organized group of manipulators against the Tribunal? Why would this band of torturers be so adamant if there wasn't some indication there was one? Dria's obviously not behind it all. So, who is?

The voices outside die down and one set of footsteps retreat down the hall. My wife's blond nemesis steps into the cold cell. I lay on the cot, curled on one side, waiting to see if she's here to deliver another round of her favorite question and beating game. Pretending to be under her compulsion wears thin, but I'll keep it up until I get the opportunity I need.

"I know you're awake," she says. "Might as well get up."

I push myself to a sitting position, moving slowly and feigning more pain than I feel. "I've told you everything I know."

An evil smile plays across her face. "Which has turned out to be very little, hasn't it?"

I look away, unwilling to provoke her if I can manage it. She looks like she's spun rather tightly and would probably enjoy a reason to beat me again.

Her high heels rap across the stone as she saunters to the cot. She's changed out of the drab black clothes she wore before and stands before me with a low-cut red blouse, and dark gray dress slacks. There's only one reason she'd come in here dressed in anything remotely attractive-to catch my eye.

I allow my gaze to linger longer than necessary on the exposed flesh at the opening of her shirt before I avert my eyes to the floor.

"Like what you see, Rafe?" A low, cruel laugh spills from her. "So ready to give up the love of your life?" I hunch my shoulders, letting her think I feel guilt over my actions, still refusing to look at her.

A cold hand grasps my chin and forces my head up. "Look at me, Rafe. I want to see what I've been missing."

Ahh... and there it is... exactly why I thought she came in here dressed to impress. I meet her eyes and permit her mental energy into the surface thoughts of my mind.

"You want me, Rafe." She presses her will forward. I conjure memories of Dria and me as we last made love, knowing she'll see them in my mind. "You think I'm Dria and want to make love to me."

A soft sigh slips from my mouth, and I relax my shoulders. I release the false tension in my muscles and soften the look on my face to one of love and adoration.

"Yes, liebling, I do." I reach my hands out to cup her cheeks, and widen my eyes, as if I'm finally becoming aware of our surroundings. "But, not here. You deserve better."

She leans in and places her lips to mine. Her hold slips from my mind, content she's placed enough compulsion on me to give herself over to the kiss. I grab the back of her head and pour an intensity into the union that can easily be mistaken for passion. She responds to my ploy with an eagerness that reveals her own hidden longing.

Cora pulls back, gasping for breath, her chest rising and falling with her sudden desires. She glances at the cot and grimace of distaste flashes across her face. "Yes, you're right. Let's move to a more comfortable place."

She takes my hand and pulls me up, staring into the soft adoring puppy dog face I'm wearing-and buying it lock, stock and barrel. We leave the cell. She leads down a narrow hall, past other doors marked for storage. We travel the empty corridor and into another, passing through areas I've never seen before.

At the end of a hall, we climb a set of stairs to another level and stop at the third door on the right. She throws open the thick wood to reveal a well appointed room inside-a small fireplace to ward off the chill, a nicely made queen bed, and small writing desk with a chair against one wall.

"Much better, my dear." I slip my arms around the petite vampire and hug her from behind, kissing her neck once before letting go. I walk straight to the fireplace, worried that I might not be able to pull off the physical part of a man's arousal to convince her of my pretend interest. "It's cold in here. Let me get this fire going, so you don't catch a chill."

I hear the rustle of clothing behind me while I build the fire. I take my time, steeling myself for the woman waiting on the bed and what she expects from me. Catching her unawares and striking fast will be the only way I can pull this off.

I take a deep breath, relaxing my face and doing my best to look content and intrigued by what the evening holds.

"It looks good, darling." Cora whispers. "Come, join me."

I rise and turn toward her, a soft smile playing on my face. She's reclining on the bed, clad in a black bra and matching underwear, a look of longing clear on her expression. My fingers work the buttons on my shirt with deliberate care while I lock gazes with the bitch who'd see me dead the moment I ceased to amuse her.

Her dark blue eyes follow my hands, watching as I peel back the shirt and leisurely slip it off. The t-shirt underneath fits snug, pulling across the planes of my chest. I draw my hand across my pecs and down to my waist, deliberating teasing her with my slow movements.

If there's one thing I've learned in sixty-five years with Dria, it's how to heighten a woman's interest with slow seduction. A real smile spreads across my face as I recall exactly how much power I have over my wife by touching myself in a languid, non-sexual manner.

I pull up the hem of my shirt as I tighten my stomach, revealing the rippled muscles underneath. After a brief pause, I tug the fabric up higher and slip it over my head, casting it toward the desk. I've got her full attention as I unfasten my pants and push them over my hips to the floor, shoving them with my foot near the other discarded items. Realizing this next part could be my undoing, I close my eyes, blocking out the vision of the vampire before me and think of my wife.

Her pale skin and copper hair spill over the pillow as I thrust into her tight ass over and over again. My cock twitches at the memory of the rare pleasure, surging to life in my underwear. I rub my hand over my growing arousal, needing to make this farce as real as I can to get Cora where I need her.

In a burst of vampiric speed, Cora launches across the space between us to stand in front of me, brushing her breasts against the bottom of my ribs. My eyes open, desire for the replayed images with my wife showing for her to see.

The blond vampire stands on her toes with her fangs out, lust plain on her face. "Another kiss?"

I bend down to comply, placing my lips on hers in a tender touch. Her hot sucking mouth latches onto me as a groan of pure desire pushes up from her depths. The angle is wrong for what I need to do, so I pick her up and carry her to the bed, deepening the kiss with each step. I sit and place her across my lap, resting my hands softly on her hips to not alarm her to my intent.

She breaks the kiss and trails her mouth down my neck, lingering over the large, pulsing vein in my throat. I run my hands up and down her back, bringing them close to the base of her skull, like I'm cupping her head in passion, encouraging her to bite me.

"You smell so good," she whispers, awe in her voice. "I can hardly wait to taste you." She pulls back and opens her mouth wide, staring intently at my neck and nothing else.

I pull the tiny knob on my watch face. The razor wire whirs out in a flash, and I loop one hand around her neck as she plunges to bite me. The wire cuts through her flesh like butter, spraying blood over my face and torso. With one fierce tug, I pull the loop of the razor wire closed, decapitate the woman, and push her body to the floor.

It happened so fast-her dead face doesn't even register shock, still locked in a position to bite. Without wasting time, I scramble to the writing desk, searching for a letter opener or a pair of scissors. Instead, I find a silver dagger with blood dried at the hilt, even better for the task. I test the edge on my thumb and then move back to the headless body bleeding out on the floor.

I plunge the blade into her chest, hacking and forcing my way to the still beating heart. Cracking ribs with my bare hands, gore and flesh coat the skin on my forearm with red. The gruesome job pulls a wave of nausea from me, making me hesitate in a short flash of horror. Damn, it's so much easier when you don't have to cut out the heart.

I steel myself against the terror in my mind, focusing instead on the need to get to my wife before the same is done to her. Without a backward glance at the still warm body, I toss the heart into the fire and search for something to clean myself.

Using the bed coverings, I wipe off the worst of the blood, peel off the ruined underwear, and then clear the gore from the razor wire to force it back into its hidden case. I scoop up my clean clothes I striped out of earlier. I knew taking them off would be the only way I'd be able to walk out of here without looking like I committed murder.

Which is exactly what I did.

I ransack the room as fast as I can, searching for more weapons. The silver knife sits secure at my lower back in my waistband. I grab the heavy iron fire poker, holding it alongside my leg as I prepare to leave.

Coldness settles over me as I ease into the empty hallway, locking the inner handle and quietly pulling shut the door behind me. I don't care how many I have to kill before this day is over. I'll get to my wife, one way or another.

Or die trying.