I was naked, exposed, weak, and I hated it. If I just ran, I wondered how far I would get.

The vampire took a step forward and drew a breath to speak. I held my ground—what little ground I had. Stared at him, without meeting his gaze. I had to stay out of his power. I wondered if he’d enslaved the others somehow, or if they were here voluntarily. This was the first time I’d really thought of a vampire as ancient. My usual, traditional first question for vampires—how old are you, really?—died. It seemed pointless here. Irrelevant. Knowing the answer wouldn’t get me out of here.

“We gather from the far corners of the world on a dire quest. Finally, we can strike the blow that I have been preparing against the enemy for centuries…”

If I expected an explanation or an apology—something straightforward and rational, in other words—I was disappointed. The answer to who would want to kidnap me: crazy cult. I still didn’t have any idea what kind of crazy cult it was. And I still had no idea what they intended to do with me, or what I’d have to do to get out.

The vampire continued intoning his story, chanting a practiced speech. He had an accent, but it was light, clipped, hard to place. He spread his arms to me, a patriarch welcoming a child into the fold.

“You—you are the heir to a great spirit, to the mother wolf who nurtured an empire, whose statue stood in the Forum for centuries, a symbol of such untold strength and loyalty—”

“What?” I croaked, finally able to make my throat work. I didn’t know whether to lurch to my feet or fall over entirely, so I just sat there. “You mean like the Capitoline Wolf?”

I might have handed him a birthday cake, the way his face lit up. He smiled, a hideous expression on his cracked face and thin lips. “You understand. The fates are with us.” He tipped his head back, as if beseeching the heavens in prayer. “You are our Regina Luporum. You truly are ready to join us.”

Huh?

My laugh came out as a hiccup. Then the dam burst, and I doubled over, pressing my face to my arm, trying to stop the hysterics. Really, it was too much. I was laughing so hard, I thought I was going to throw up. That would have been cute.

The vampire blinked at me, nonplussed. The others were looking back and forth among themselves, obviously confused. But what had they expected?

“I’m sorry,” I managed to gasp. “That probably wasn’t the reaction you were looking for. But actually I’m not sorry.” Now it was the gobsmacked looks on their faces making me laugh. On the one hand this was all spooky and terrifying, with dim lamps and dark caves and monsters and blood. On the other hand … Yeah, what else could I do but laugh?

“You are Regina Luporum,” the vampire declared.

I hiccupped again. My stomach hurt. “You’re not serious,” I managed to gasp. That was a joke, it had always been just a joke.

“We’ve brought you here to fulfill your role. Your fate,” he said.

“Who the hell are you people?” I asked.

“Your destiny,” said the vampire, in a tone that suggested he thought this was obvious.

I stared. Sudden gooseflesh covered my skin, even though the temperature wasn’t that cold. The cave was insulating. But I was naked and vulnerable. I did have a clearer idea of who my enemy was, though: fanatics, of unknown origin and purpose. Small comfort that they seemed to need me for something not involving blood sacrifice and death. I couldn’t shove my mind past the crazy part.

“I don’t understand,” I said, fiercely as I could manage. Wolf was present, glaring out in challenge. My teeth were bared. That didn’t seem to make a difference. They were all very good at maintaining neutral expressions. They had a plan, and so far I hadn’t done anything to disrupt it.

“You will,” the vampire said, turning a cracked and ominous smile.

“Like hell,” I muttered. If they wanted to keep me here, they’d have to work for it.

Likely, one of the openings in the cave led out, and one didn’t. Fifty-fifty chance. I looked at them both, trying not to give away that I was looking, and made a plan. Neither exit had an obvious slope, up or down. The whole place was flat, so that didn’t help. The two lycanthropes stood near the left-hand tunnel, which meant my chances of reaching it before they stopped me were slim. I might be able to fight them both off, but I didn’t want to bet my freedom on it. On my right, the human magician stood. Her, I could flat outrun. Of course, the vampire would probably be able to stop me no matter what. Unless, just maybe, his ancient, wizened appearance meant that his strength and reflexes had also decayed. I could hope.

I couldn’t prepare, I could only go.

I launched, running as I stood, stumbling forward and letting gravity do the work. Still cramped and woozy after shifting just a few hours ago, I hadn’t had a chance to stretch and unkink my muscles. Couldn’t think about it. Just aimed myself at the tunnel and ran. Didn’t look behind me, only saw my captors’ reactions out of the corner of my eye. Appearing startled and determined, they came after me. I had to be faster.

And hope this was the tunnel that would take me out of the mine.

Leaving the wider space, I escaped into darkness, under an arcing passage of stone. Two parallel steel lines imbedded in the tunnel floor formed a pathway—rails of a former oar cart system. The tracks glittered, covered with a patina of rust and crystallized minerals, running through the previous chamber as well. They gave me a path to follow.

The ceiling became lower and cut into my speed. I suddenly wished I was Wolf, able to cover this ground in seconds. Then the tunnel began to slope—downward. A bad sign, but I was committed. Maybe it only sloped down a little way before sloping back up. Please …

The tunnel opened into a chamber, roughly round and lit by another of those battery camp lanterns, giving off the palest glow, just enough light to be able to navigate by without crashing into the rough-cut walls.

I slid to a flailing stop in the middle of the room, looking around, desperate for an exit that wasn’t there. It was a dead end. Fifty-fifty chance, and I picked wrong.

Trapped and panting for breath, I noticed the markings on the floor. Dark lines and curves drawn in precise patterns, symbols placed at regular intervals. I could just make out more symbols on the walls, and amulets of metal, bone, and wood secured in place, corresponding to the marks on the floor. I stepped softly, following the track of the pattern, tracing with my gaze until the whole of it became clear—a five-pointed star inside a circle, about fifteen feet across. Traditional European arcane symbolism. This was a magician’s ritual space.