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pain she realized she was awake.
    Yes, she was awake and he was fast asleep. This most likely would never happen again.
    Despite the pain weakening her, slowing her, she reached out and gingerly touched his flesh. It repulsed her, the touch of this horrid male beneath her fingers. The rancid taste of him in her mouth.
    Instincts begged her to wrap her hand around his neck. To squeeze. To hold until life left him. But he was vampire, not human. Not easily killed. He would be stronger than she. He was healthy, powerful. Like a wolf. She was weak, like a kitten. If she wasn’t careful, he would awaken and there would much torture to bear if he discovered she attempted escape.
    But she must escape. He would have the key to the cell.
    She didn’t know how long her trembling fingers smoothed gently over his sleeping figure, searching for the keys, before she fully realized he was nude from the waist down and the keys would be dangling from the belt at his pants.
    Oh sweet vampire! How could she get off the bed without awakening him?
    Anxiety began to pound through her as she realized she just might not be able to get out of here without him awakening. But she must try. And she’d already been warned that if she did ever escape again, she would be killed.
    That familiar need for survival seared through her again. Her life depended on the next few minutes. Lightheadedness, from the pain of her wounds, almost toppled her as she quietly maneuvered into a seated position.
    Gingerly, she rose from the bed and winced at the cold floor hitting her bare feet. She’d been brought here late summer and mental calculations made her believe it was early autumn outside the dungeon now. The cell was situated in a veiled cave deep inside Italy’s Dolomite Mountains. It would be colder out there than in here. She would need her clothing, which she knew would be hanging on a hook by the door.
    She would also need boots, for they had taken her footwear. He must have worn boots. She would have to find them. And find his pants. That was where the keys would be.
    Grimacing at the pain rocking her, including the intimate area between her thighs where he’d brutally taken her, she managed to get down on all fours. It was a position she’d been in many times in her life and she forced away the bad memories of those times and began her search.
    Groping along the floor, she soon felt the softness of wool trousers and stiffened at the loud clinking of keys that must have slipped from the pants and hit the floor.
    Sweet vampire!
    From the cot, he snorted, moved slightly, fell silent.
    Nervousness screamed through her as she awaited the return of his bellowing snores. A moment later the sound of snoring sawed over her nerves again.
    Oh Matilda, calm yourself, vamp girl. Calm yourself or you won’t make it!
    But how? The adrenaline pummeled her like blasts of a hammer against the horseshoes a blacksmith would forge.
    I will be free.
    The chant came out of nowhere and embraced her with warmth. Warmth she had, up until this instant, never experienced before. Instinctively she knew it was the warmth of hope.
    And just like that, her fingers wrapped around the set of keys where they had fallen on the floor. She looked around the black room until she spied the crack of light coming under the heavy wood door. That was her way out.
    But first, she needed to find his boots.
    She found them quickly, as well as thick heavy wool socks. Both his socks and boots were horribly smelly and the stench made her gag, but she would need their warmth. Tucking the socks into the boots, she placed them under her arm.
    She stood and found herself careening off balance in the darkness, crashing into a nearby stone wall. The boots almost left her grasp at the painful impact with the wall, but thankfully she managed to keep a tight grip, preventing the boots from crashing to the floor and wakening the torturer.
    At that moment she realized he’d stopped snoring once again.
    Mati