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When he stepped back, I tested the area and was pleased to discover it worked. “You’re a genius.”
“You can thank my gaming brain. It’s been forced to problem solve for years.”
“I’ll never mock it again.” I returned to the coils of cords on the ground. The ones still connected to their power source. “I can unplug the rest of the lights on my own. Make your way out now. Be safe, love.”
The instant the lights were out, Cristofer would move to stage two of the plan. In the dark, with my powers restored and Ensley gone, I would remove the lid on the sarcophagus and get to work as quickly as I could.
“Wait,” Ensley said before I could act.
He approached the platform and studied the sarcophagus, running a finger around the lip.
“What are you doing? We can’t delay.”
“Lou showed me this filler they use to seal doors and windows. It’s the same stuff they used at the mansion. It’s like caulking but made with holy water. Dries like glue, he said.”
Ensley squatted to examine the seam where the lid connected to the body of the sarcophagus. “You won’t be able to open this. Look. It’s sealed.”
“What?”
I joined him and stupidly pressed my hand to the lid to test his theory. The pain was instant, and I recoiled with a shout, jerking it back. A fiery red mark bloomed across my palm.
“Damnation, that hurt.”
“Why would you do that? And who says damnation?”
“You want to mock me now?”
“Well, don’t be stupid. I just said it was sealed. Look with your eyes, not your hands. Can’t you see the filler?”
Chastised, I looked. I saw. I sulked and rubbed my injured hand.
Ensley withdrew a pocketknife and wedged it under the lid, scraping at the sealant as best he could. It came out easily enough but not as thoroughly as we hoped. By the time he’d gone around the entire circumference, residue remained, making the lid untouchable.
“You have to slide it off for me.”
Ensley looked at me like I’d lost my marbles.
“What? I’m serious.” I displayed my burned hand for emphasis. The mark wouldn’t heal until I’d regained my powers.
What I forgot was that my boyfriend was not a vampire with superhuman strength.
The pitiful amount of muscle he did have was not honed from spending all his spare time lifting weights in the gym. He hurled spells and incantations from behind a screen, battling virtual enemies who didn’t require him to have proper strength or stamina. He had a beautifully creative mind, but creativity was not going to help him lift a massive concrete slab that easily weighed over two thousand pounds.
But by golly, he tried, and I loved him for his unflinching determination.
Ensley attempted to slide the lid to no avail. “There seems to be an internal lip locking it in place.”
I had no doubt, but that was hardly the issue. He tugged and pulled and heaved and grunted. At one point, he slipped and scraped his knuckles along the rough cement edge.
“Mother—” He flicked his fingers before whimpering and sticking two of them in his mouth.
A distinct trace of copper drifted to my nose, and my nostrils flared.
“You’re bleeding.”
“I’m fine. It’s a scratch.” Hissing, he studied his scored knuckles.
That wasn’t the point. I fisted my hands to maintain control of my innate urges. It didn’t matter that I’d recently fed. Blood was an aphrodisiac. It threatened the will of even the strongest vampire.
