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She took a deep breath. She told herself not to panic and repeated it over and over again in her mind. Don't panic, Regan, don't panic, don't panic…
Too late, she thought as she tugged frantically against the ropes. She had gone beyond panic! Nothing good ever came of being tied up in a strange place.
Where was she?
Vasile… oh, Lord, she remembered now. Vasile had been in her apartment. And Michael… where was Michael?
She closed her eyes, praying that this was all just a bad dream, that she would wake up and everything would be all right. It had to be a nightmare… nothing this awful could be real.
When she woke again, a middle-aged woman with short, dark hair was staring down at her. The expression in the woman's eyes sent a chill down Regan's spine. Never, in all her life, had anyone looked at her with such hatred.
It took every ounce of willpower Regan possessed to meet the woman's baleful stare, but she knew somehow that looking away or showing any sign of fear would be the worst thing she could do.
The woman glared at her for another few moments, then turned and left the room without saying a word.
As soon as she was alone again, Regan began to struggle against the ropes that bound her to the bed. She didn't know where she was, but she was certain Vasile was nearby, and that she wouldn't like whatever it was he had in store for her.
After ten minutes of intense concentration, she felt the rope on her right wrist loosen just a little. Hope soared through her and she tugged harder, ignoring the pain of the rope cutting into her skin and the blood dripping down her arm.
One last hard pull and her wrist slipped free. Sitting up, she quickly untied her other hand and got off the bed. After tiptoeing to the window, she drew back the curtain and peered outside.
A number of small square houses were arranged around a central courtyard. There was a fountain in the center. Two young girls sat in the shade of a huge tree. One was reading a book, the other was playing with a doll. Tall trees rose behind the houses across the way, their branches interwoven, their trunks so close together that nothing was visible beyond them.
Tiptoeing to the bedroom door, Regan opened it a crack and looked out. She didn't see anyone or hear anything. Opening the door wider, she made her way down the short hallway to the living room. It, too, was empty.
Squaring her shoulders, she opened the front door and stepped outside. The two girls looked up. Regan smiled at them. After a moment, they smiled back and then returned to what they were doing before. Regan walked casually to the corner of the house, as if she had every right to be there, and then walked without hurry toward a heavily wooded area located behind the house.
Once Regan was out of sight of the girls, she began to run. She didn't know where she was running to, but any place had to be better than where she was.
She ran until she was out of breath and her legs felt like rubber. With one hand pressed against her aching side, she dropped to the ground and closed her eyes. She had to find help, but where? And where was she?
Lifting her head, Regan glanced around. Trees. Nothing but trees and a tall mountain in the distance—a mountain with a castle on top. She frowned, thinking that the castle looked vaguely familiar. Something to do with Dracula… it couldn't be his castle, she thought. That one lay in ruins, but it was said that Dracula had stayed at another castle. Was this the one? It was quite lovely, with rusty colored turrets and lots of windows.
Rising, she began to walk rapidly, going deeper into the forest. In an effort to avoid thinking about Vasile or the fact that he might be after her, she tried to recall everything she had read about Dracula. While learning to be a vampire hunter, she had studied the famous count's life, since there were some who believed he had been the first vampire. Though he had been a cruel, unforgiving man, he was hailed as a hero for defending Walachia against the invasion of the Turks centuries ago. It was said that on one occasion, when foreign emissaries refused to remove their turbans in his presence, Dracula nailed their turbans to their heads. Of course, he was famous, or infamous, for impaling hundreds of his enemies for various crimes, a punishment that resulted in days of excruciating agony for the victims.
Regan walked for what must have been hours, until she couldn't take another step, and then she walked some more, woodenly placing one foot in front of the other, her fear of being caught by Vasile stronger than her growing thirst.
Vasile shook Zina's shoulders. "Where is she?" he demanded. "What have you done with her?"
"I didn't do anything." She spat the words at him. "She was there the last time I looked."
"How long ago was that?"
"I don't know. Two hours ago, maybe three."
He shook her again. "How long?"
"A little after noon."
Four hours ago! With an oath, Vasile flung the woman away from him. She staggered backward, striking her head against the wall. The smell of blood filled the air.
Without waiting to see if Zina was alive or dead, Vasile stormed out of the house, his body shifting as he went. Outside, he sniffed the ground, his nostrils quickly picking up the woman's scent.
He would have her before nightfall.
He was coming.
Fear lent wings to Regan's feet but she was too tired, too thirsty, and too hungry to sustain it for long. She had been a fool to think she could outrun a werewolf. With his increased senses, he would find her no matter where she went, and out here, in this seemingly endless forest, there was nowhere to hide.
She was scrambling up a slight incline when her legs refused to support her any longer. With a sigh of resignation, she dropped to the ground, overcome with a sense of doom and a sudden fear that she had been running in circles for the last few minutes.
Closing her eyes, she prayed for strength and courage, and then, holding onto a tree, she gained her feet and staggered onward. She had no doubt that Vasile would find her, but she wasn't going to surrender without a fight!
She was crossing a stream when the wind shifted and she caught Vasile's scent. Glancing over her shoulder, she saw a fair-haired wolf loping effortlessly toward her. With a wild cry, she darted across the stream and scrambled up the other side, her weariness forgotten as she ran for her life.
She screamed when his weight slammed into her back, cried out in pain as his momentum carried her to the ground. She landed face-first. Lights exploded behind her eyes. Grunting softly, she struggled to wriggle out from under him, but it was no use. Tears of pain and frustration filled her eyes as she realized there was no escape.
She lay there, unmoving, trying to get her breath back.
