Maybe he really had been there at the founding of Rome. Maybe he really had seen. Or maybe he was a standard demagogue, offering his interpretations as ultimate truth. Like someone calling in to my show, declaring their opinion of the One True Path.
“Or maybe you’re winging it, like the rest of us.”
“It is the place of mothers—even foster mothers, or those who play the role of mothers—to die for their children.”
Oh for the love of … “A woman should be able to be a mother without being a martyr,” I said.
Again, he offered a condescending smile. “Wouldn’t you die to save your children? Or for a cause you believe in? I see your courage—I think you would.”
Having children had become such an abstract concept for me. I couldn’t have my own, but Ben and I had talked about adopting. Someday. When life got less crazy. Like, when I wasn’t being kidnapped by weird revenge cults. But this wasn’t about children. It was a red herring, a bad argument.
This was a discussion about sacrifice. I’d come back here because I was willing to make that sacrifice, if I had to. But I wouldn’t be doing it for Kumarbis.
“You’re way too eager to fit me into that slot,” I said. “My plan right now isn’t to become a martyr. That time may come, but not yet.”
“You have a destiny,” Kumarbis said. “Zora has seen it in her visions, we all felt it when you arrived here—”
“—when you kidnapped and dragged me here.”
He took a deep breath, the better to lecture with. “You are here for a reason, but more than that you are what you are for a reason. Regina Luporum called to you, guided you?
??it is your destiny to become her heir. It was your destiny to become the wolf that you are.”
“Are you saying it was my destiny to get attacked and torn up and turned into … this?”
They all, all of them, stared back at me like it was obvious. In their world, of course these things happened for a reason.
“Yes,” the vampire said.
My teeth were bared, my muscles stiff. I leaned forward, aggressive. The bars around Wolf’s cage were dissolving, turning to air. “That was the worst night of my life,” I said, my voice low to keep from screaming. “I was raped by a frat boy and left in the woods and shredded by a werewolf—where the hell is the destiny in that?”
It was only slightly gratifying, seeing them flinch at the word raped. Zora had pressed herself against the tunnel wall.
Attempting to be soothing, Kumarbis said, “There is power in pain—”
“Fuck you.” The words turned into a howl, and I doubled over, clutching my gut. A million needles stabbed my skin, fur about to burst through, and my bones ached, struggling to change. We could do it, reach out claws, launch ourselves at the vampire’s throat and tear into flesh. We’d do a lot of damage before they stopped us. In that moment, all we want is to do damage, fierce and bloody.
But I held on tight, I kept hold of her leash and kept myself together. Breathed slowly, thought calm thoughts. Took myself out of this place and conversation. A peaceful clearing in summer, sunlight in trees, birdsong. Green growing things and peace. My breathing slowed, Wolf retreated, the bars returned. Wolf came out when I called her, not when they did.
Sakhmet moved between us, hands raised, calming. “Kumarbis, please let her be. Regina, are you calm?”
I straightened, rounded my shoulders. Came as close as I could to meeting the vampire’s gaze without letting him trap me. Zora glared fearfully. She was the most vulnerable one here—at least she was smart enough to recognize it.
However, nothing fazed Kumarbis. “You show the power of Regina Luporum at every turn. You truly are her avatar.” He bowed his head, in a show of respect that I didn’t believe.
Even rolling my eyes wasn’t worth the effort. Not that Kumarbis noticed my annoyance. He saw what he wanted to.
I hadn’t thought about Zan, the wolf who attacked and infected me, in a long time. I thought about that night, sure, but I didn’t spend much time thinking about him, the person. I wasn’t sure I could remember what he looked like, man or wolf. He was a young guy, early twenties like I had been at the time, working odd jobs and trying to get by when he wasn’t being a werewolf, which he seemed to enjoy. Now, he was dead. So were Carl, Meg, and TJ, the old pack, the werewolves who took me in and made me what I am. That was a chapter I’d happily left behind, and my only regret was I hadn’t been able to take TJ with me. He’d died so I could escape. Him, I remembered clearly, gratefully. He’d had a chance to run, and he didn’t. He risked his life for me. Yes, I understood sacrifice.
And if TJ were here, he’d probably kick my ass for not running away when I had the chance.
That all seemed like such a long time ago.
Kumarbis whispered to Zora, who nodded and began bustling around the antechamber, gathering up a bag of items she’d stashed against the wall, lighting candles, dousing the camp lanterns, until all that was left was flickering, natural flame. The handful of yellow will-o’-the-wisp lights left the rest of the place in shocking, complete darkness. When Zora moved her candle, the faces of the others appeared like misshapen ghosts. Their eyes blazed.
“One more step remains in your initiation, before we can perform our ritual,” Kumarbis said.
In the corner of my eye, I saw Zora, her back to the rest of us, take off her shirt and pull on a long white tunic. She moved quickly, searching her bag for more items, making additional preparations, letting loose her ponytail, adding chains and jewelry to her ensemble.