Page 147 of To Catch A Rogue

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.