CHAPTER ONE

IN THE BASEMENT WITH THE VAMPIRE

Well, it’s certainly spooky, even if it’s not haunted. 

Lora Kraft stood at the edge of the condemned property — a lot of five square miles, if the official property tax rolls could be believed — surrounded by a tall, black wrought-iron fence. Much larger than a lot in the middle of the city should be.

It certainly didn’t look that big from where she stood. The light of the near-full moon showed the other side of the fence in the distance. A breeze she didn’t feel blew thigh-high fog over the ground, carrying the odors of wood smoke and decay.

The only building in sight, a Gothic castle constructed out of grey stone, included pointy spires, two wings that expanded from the main building, and a round tower soaring into the night sky on one side. There were supposed to be other buildings on the property, along with caves, a graveyard, forest, and lake.

The whole thing was a failed attempt at a destination hotel. Maybe the biggest mystery about the place wasn’t whether it was haunted, but why some rich developer hadn’t bought the property.

Huge no trespassing signs hung on the fence.

Beyond this point,

Trespass is consent.

Trespassers will be punished

To the fullest extent.

These signs had to be some sort of joke.

No one had lived here for years, but the rumors the place was haunted persisted. It wasn’t likely a ghost would have her arrested, though. What was the worst that could happen if she was caught? Trespassing was a misdemeanor.

Plus, her best friend had disappeared, and the last place she’d planned on coming was this property. What had Eve been thinking? She couldn’t have waited until Lora returned from her photography assignment?

Lora shook her head. Of course not. Eve loved Halloween, and she’d been threatening to come here ever since she found out about the place a few months ago. She loved her best friend, but Eve had the craziest ideas sometimes.

Well, if Eve was in trouble, it was up to Lora to mount a rescue. She might not look like much, being tall and built with curves rather than packed on muscles. But plenty of people had taken one look at her big green eyes and curves, and mistaken her an easy target before, only to realize they were mistaken.

And, she was only mostly human, so if there was a ghost, she could handle it better than Eve. Everything about this place made the Other Worldly part of her itch. Maybe there was something to the haunted house rumors.

Pulling an elastic band from her wrist, Lora wove her long black hair into a thick braid.

She opened her backpack to triple check she had everything. Iron supplements for her anemic friend. Caffeine pills for herself, since she hadn’t slept well in the last two days and needed her wits about her. Sleeping pills for when she could rest. Insect repellent. Sunglasses. Bandanna. Swiss army knife. Pen. Map. Compass. Flashlight. Anti-venom shot. Matches. Duct tape. Dental floss. First-aid kit. Antibiotics. Emergency thermal blanket. Book on exorcisms she’d picked up overseas for her friend’s Halloween present. Batteries. Makeup. Spare clothes. Sewing kit. Cell phone. Satellite phone. Both with full bars and batteries.

It was her standard expedition pack, and with it, she was ready for the jungle, desert, or ice cap. She was prepared for anything, and no wanna-be haunted house in the middle of a city was going to stop her from finding her friend.

After snapping a few photos for Eve, in case she wasn’t here somewhere, Lora slid her camera into its bag and slung it over her shoulder. With a glance in each direction of the street to make sure there were no witnesses, she climbed the fence, swung a leg over the top and dropped to the other side. The ground shuddered as her feet landed, and she caught herself with a hand on the fence. She blinked as a ripple extended from her boots outward across the property, sending the mysterious fog into eddies.

That’s not ominous.

Lora marched past more of those ridiculous No Trespassing signs, but paused when a light flickering in one of the tower windows caught her attention. It hadn’t been there before — she would have noticed. Had someone else had the same idea as Eve? Perhaps another intrepid ghost hunter had come to check out the most haunted place in the city on Halloween.

Maybe it was Eve. But why wouldn’t she call or answer her phone? Unless she was hurt. Or, more likely, she’d taken so many videos the battery had died. No telling how long Eve had been here. But the possibility that someone was in the tower meant that was where Lora needed to check first.

As she crossed the expanse of overgrown lawn toward the castle, the thigh-high fog swirled around her legs and up her body like creepy, groping fingers. She caught herself swiping at the tentacles, trying to brush them away, but they just reformed around her.

It’s just fog.

It also set off her Other World side with a sense of unease.

Stop it. You’re just freaking yourself out.

The fog remained over the grass when Lora stepped onto a stone pathway that led to the front of the castle. All the windows there remained dark, and the huge wooden double doors were firmly closed. She climbed the stone steps and banged on them anyway. No one answered the door. Not that she really expected anyone to. She backed up and walked a few steps on the stone path. The light in the tower remained on.

Lora went back to the front doors, ready to raise one boot and kick them in, then saw the bell with a little rope pull. Why not? As deep tones resounded inside the building, the porch collapsed under her feet and she fell. There wasn’t time to scream before her feet hit the floor. Bending her knees, she collapsed to rough stone, cradling her camera to protect it from any damage.

The trapdoor above her head snapped back into place, shutting out moonlight and leaving her in the dark. “Hello?” Getting to her feet, she stretched her arms above her head, but the trapdoor was out of reach. Crouching, she jumped, but only grazed the wooden door above her with her fingertips. Rummaging in her pack, she dug out her flashlight and switched it on. The bright beam made her blink as her eyes adjusted to the sudden brightness.

Grey stone formed the basement walls and floor. No windows. The only way out was through a door that led into a stone tunnel.

A breeze like icy breath across her cheek raised the hairs on the back of her neck. Lora whirled, flashlight raised to use as a club. No one. Right. Well, if it wasn’t someone’s breath, a breeze could only come from a way out. Disgusted with herself, she made her way down the corridor, brushing cobwebs out of her way. Dust stirred up by her boots made her sneeze.

Something a lot more solid than fog seized her arm in a rough grip. Lora brought her flashlight up and smashed it into the hand.

“Fuck,” a man cursed, as he pulled his hand off her.

Lora followed through with an elbow where she thought his face would be, and was rewarded with another curse. She took off, not caring about being cautious anymore. Maybe there was a ghost here, but the bigger threat was human and right behind her. The flashlight bobbed wildly as she swiped spiderwebs off her face in her headlong flight.

Up! She needed to go up! Where are the damn stairs?

The footsteps behind her stopped and she spun, expecting to see a man flying at her in a tackle. But the beam of her flashlight revealed only grey stone. He must have gone into one of the side rooms.

Lora whirled to continue her escape, and slammed into a hard, male chest. More hands grabbed her as she staggered back. She flailed and kicked at her attacker. Another assailant grabbed her from behind and hit her flashlight. It flew fro her hand, and the beam spiraled down the hallway, giving her an impression of a crowd in the narrow tunnel.

“Get off me!” Lora’s boot connected with something that earned her a grunt. A wild elbow smashed into something soft. That paid off with a pained gasp. Strong fingers gripped her chin. The flickering beam of her dying flashlight showed her face with black eyes, think eyebrows, and sharp cheekbones.

“Relax,” a deep voice commanded.

Her body slumped as a cold fog invaded her mind. Unseen hands lifted her and carried her into a room down the hall.

Her backpack and camera disappeared. Hands raised her arms and tugged at her feet. Someone pulled her hair-tie out and unraveled her braid. Her mind screamed at her to struggle. To fight. To move. But the enforced calm held her docile and still.

The rough hands disappeared, leaving her standing barefoot, arms trapped over her head.

Her mind cleared as fear spiked. “What do you think you’re doing?” Lora tried to sound angry and rattled the chains holding her wrists. “This isn’t funny. Let me go.” She squinted into the dim light provided by torches mounted on the walls. Actual torches. What the hell? “Look, I had no way of knowing anyone was living here. I’ll leave. Keep my camera. I won’t tell anyone about this place. I just want to know if my friend is here.”

Her eyes finally adjusted, and shadowy figures came into focus.

Did that guy have fangs? And that guy… mummy bandages? And… a wolf-man? Of course. If her hands were free, she’d smack her forehead. It was Halloween. They were all wearing costumes.

Just her luck to run into a bunch of weirdos who liked to play dress up.

This was just a prank gone too far.

The closest one, Fangs, eyed her up and down, reaching out toward her face. “Is your friend as lovely as you? You look delicious.”

“She smells good enough to eat, too.” That was Wolf-Man.

Lora jerked her face away from Fangs. “Ha, ha. Very funny, assholes. It’s Halloween. Nice costumes. Bite me, vampire.”

He chuckled. “We’ll get to that. First, we must decide the parameters of your punishment.”

She blinked. “What do you mean, decide the parameters of my punishment?”

“You’ve committed a crime.” The vampire crossed his arms. “There are plenty of signs out there, explicitly instructing any potential trespassers that non-compliance is consent.”

“Trespassing is a misdemeanor!” And they were all committing that same crime, so who were they to judge her or decide on a punishment?

The vampire nodded. “Trespassing — enter someone’s land or property without permission. Commit an offense against a person or set of rules. Knowingly enter without permission. Unlawful intrusion or invasion,” He recited. “You’ve trespassed against us. We are entitled to do the same against you. This place belongs to all of us, so all of us will punish you. Now, let’s see what we’re working with. Turn around.”

She fought against the order, against the cold fingers stroking her brain, but her body obeyed and she turned her back to the men. Dread filled her. He shouldn’t be able to control her like that. No human should.

“Our last guest was terrified of some of your natural forms, so for this one, when she’s in your territory, you need to take a human form.”

Take a human form? What did that mean?

Now her Other World sense kicked in.

Too little too late. Thanks a lot.

Lora wished she’d paid attention when her grandmother explained about her heritage. She didn’t know what she was, just that she was part something not human. But Mother had refused to let Grandmother visit anymore after they’d been caught talking about the Other World, and no more knowledge had been forthcoming.

The air scented with traces of lust, and with that came the stirrings of what each man really was.

“I’m definitely fucking that ass.” That magic felt like fur. The werewolf.

“Nobody’s fucking my ass.” They hadn’t stripped her, but the vulnerability of having her back to these predators snapped her out of whatever fog they’d mired her in. She ripped at the manacles holding her wrists and spun back around. “Nobody’s fucking me at all. What is wrong with you people?”

Maybe if they believed she was human, and that she thought they were, there was still a chance to get out of this.

“I want that mouthy mouth of hers.” His energy felt hot and gritty, like wind blowing over desert sand.

“Show of hands — who wants her ass?” The vampire paused, his magic cloying on her tongue. “Her mouth?” Another pause.

“Very well, the majority carries. All parts of her are available.”

“How was that a fair vote?” she demanded. The trepidation in her voice wasn’t all an act.

Fangs ignored the question. “Now the rules. You can’t leave your territory. Once she crosses a border, you’re free to capture and… trespass against her.” He turned toward her, grabbed her chin in a painful grip and tilted her eyes to his. “And now your rules. During the day, your mind is your own. Between sunset and sunrise, your body will rule.”

Lora gasped as thoughts not her own whirled in her head. She caught herself about to nod, but shook her head instead.

“Let her go,” a man called from behind the others. Her Other World sense gave her nothing, but finally someone was talking sense. He continued, “There’s still a few hours of night left. One of us can catch her.”

And they were all back to crazy.

Fangs shook his head. “Well, she’s already in my territory, and caught in my trap. That means I get to have her first.” The vampire approached.

A moment of relief washed over Lora as he stopped in front of her. At least the others couldn’t see her anymore. Her hopes were dashed when he moved around behind her. “That doesn’t mean we can’t share the first taste.”

Fangs tangled one hand in her hair, wrapping her long ponytail around and around his hand and wrist to pull her head to the side, exposing her neck. He trailed kisses along her shoulder and up her throat. His other arm wrapped around her, his elbow at her waist, his hand sliding into her jeans to land on her mound.

Lora squirmed, trying to pull away. He put a foot between hers and pushed, spreading her legs. His cool fingers slipped between her thighs.

She thrashed, but Fangs’ arm was like iron, effortlessly holding her in place as his fingers parted her folds and explored her in slow, inexorable movements. A rough fingertip sought her clit and found it. He stroked over that bundle of nerves in few firm circles, then his fingers slipped lower. He found the beginnings of slickness, coated his fingertips, and probed at her opening.

“I think we have a bit of an exhibitionist with this one, boys.” The werewolf rubbed his hands together. “She’s already wet. I can smell her from here.”

At that moment, Lora decided she hated every one of these men. “Don’t flatter yourselves.”

Fangs pushed two fingers into her to the first knuckles, pulled back, and pushed deeper. Then, another finger, scissoring to stretch her before joining with the other two and thrusting slowly. Slow became harder, and harder became fast.

“We’re going to stay just like this, and they’re going to keep watching, until you come like a good girl,” Fangs murmured. “No one here minds watching you struggle. In fact, we like it.”

He fucked her with those fingers. To her horror, the cold, thick fingers stretching her coaxed more wetness from her body.

“Fuck yourself,” Fangs’ voice whispered in her mind.

Her body rocked to the rhythm he set. She closed her eyes as the extent of her slickness was revealed to everyone when the telltale sounds of her impaling herself on his hand filled the room.

“Do you want to come?”

“No.” Her body wanted to. A terrible, unsought wave of desire urged her to give in. Something in her reaching out to the man manipulating her, and the ones watching, reeling in their lust and making it hers.

Fangs sighed. Like her resistance to being used and assaulted was a childish, bothersome problem he head to deal with. “Stop moving.”

Her hips stilled. His fingers slid out of her with a wet sound, leaving her bereft as the feeling inside her that wanted the men snapped and recoiled. The vampire let her languish there, in that empty, awful limbo between the need of her body and the backbone of her pride.

What was wrong with her? She shouldn’t want this. She didn’t want this.

His fingers returned, gliding along her pussy. She bit her lip to keep in a moan as he played with her clit. It wasn’t as easy to control her breathing, and her chest rose and fell as she panted. She tried to squirm, but his command to stop moving held her still.

He resumed pumping his fingers into her, stretching her and making her core burn with coiling heat. The sound of her arousal in front of these perverts was humiliating. Her core tightened as the pressure built. Every stroke of his fingers sent another wave through her, enhancing the sensation, leaving her strung tight. He was going to actually make her come.

Don’t give in! This is coerced! The rationale meant little as the Other World part of her stroked the lust in the air. She shoved her humiliation aside and replaced it with satisfaction that they were just as affected as she was. More, since no one was even touching them.

Lora raised her head, glared defiantly at the deviants gawking at her, and owned her pleasure. She wasn’t going to come for them, she was going to do it to spite them.

Her orgasm crashed over her and tightened her pussy around Fangs’ fingers. He stroked her through the aftershocks until her legs crumpled. Her vision wavered until darkness threatened to sweep her away.

When she lifted her head, the other men were gone. Fangs reached up and unhooked the chains, freeing her arms, but leaving her wrists locked together.

She tried to remain where she was, just to be difficult. He kept walking like he didn’t notice her efforts until she had to lurch forward or fall on her face. He led her into the dark corridor, the stone cool on her bare feet.

No windows. There were several wooden doors, some were open, but the rooms were pitch black.

He turned to the left and entered a room lit with candles. Stone remained underfoot. A bed took up a good part of the space, covered in dark bedding, naturally. And a black, boxy shape lay on a long table.

A coffin? Really?

Seemed a little cliche, not to mention unnecessary in a place with no windows.

Fangs dropped her chain, and the door closed with a sinister click. Longish black hair fell to his shoulders and over his forehead. His golden skin tone seemed far too dark for a vampire. As he pulled his shirt over his head, an expanse of muscles and smooth skin she would have liked to explore, given different circumstances. He stood a foot taller than her, and was solidly built. She’d have to get lucky to beat him in a fair fight, so that meant she wouldn’t fight fair.

Lora held up her wrists. “I’m trapped here. Surely you don’t need these.”

“You’re right.”

His cool fingers moved over her wrists, and the cuffs clanked to the floor. “Strip.”

So that was why he’d let her go. “No.”

Fangs fisted the front of her tank top. “If you don’t want me to rip your clothing as I remove it, you will take it off yourself.”

Lora didn’t have many spare clothes. And the idea of running around naked in front of these sexual-assault-happy men didn’t appeal. She had to bide her time. Her moment would come.

She removed her button down shirt, tank top, pants, and underwear, taking her time to fold it all neatly.

“Into the bed.”

“No.” Lora backed up a step. She knew the touch of him in her mind now that he’d been ordering her around.

“Half the night is already gone.” He gestured impatiently. “It will be easier for you if you stop trying to resist.”

She snorted. “Yeah. A woman should always stop trying to resist a man trying to rape her mind and body.”

“You can choose to want this.”

“You could choose not to do this.”

An expression too fleeting for her to interpret crossed his face. “You’ll like it.”

“You’ll make me. That doesn’t mean my enjoyment is real. Don’t try to pretend this isn’t about what you want.”

“None of us want to force you.”

“But you will. You poor men. Having to rape women.” She injected all the scorn she could into her voice, but managed to stop short of rolling her eyes.

Whatever had bee