The next morning, I stayed in bed as long as I could, stretching out sleep in the unlikely event that Jeremy was still trying to contact me and only needed a few more minutes. At eighty-thirty, I admitted defeat. I wasn't sleeping, only keeping my eyes closed and faking it.

I shifted my legs out of bed, doubled over, and almost collapsed to the floor. My stomach felt like someone had sliced open all the muscles while I slept. Who'd think five little puncture wounds could hurt so much? The fact that they were self-inflicted didn't help. One day into my captivity and I was already doing more damage to myself than to my enemies. Maybe Patrick Lake was in more pain that I was. Not likely. My back had seized up overnight from Lake's stomping, and as I struggled to stand straight, my body revolted from both sides, stomach and spine. I hobbled to the shower. Steaming water helped my back but set my stomach afire. Cold water soothed my stomach but tightened my back again. Day two was off to a wonderful start.

My mood sank when Bauer brought my breakfast. No complaints about the meal, of course, and not really any complaint about Bauer bringing it, but one look at her sent my spirits plummeting. Bauer sauntered in wearing snug-fitting beige suede pants, a billowing white linen shirt, and knee-high boots, her hair artlessly swept up in a clip, cheeks flushed with pink that didn't come from a bottle, smelling faintly of horse, as if she'd just breezed in from a morning ride. I was dressed in a ripped and bloodstained shirt, my too-fine hair knotted from the harsh shampoo, and my eyes bloated from a rough night. When she called out a cheery good morning, I stumped over to the table, unable to stand fully erect or manage more than the most monosyllabic grunt in greeting. Even bent over, I was four or five inches taller than Bauer. I felt like Neanderthal woman-big, ugly, and none too bright.

When Bauer tried to entice me into conversation, I was tempted to thwart her efforts again, but a peaceful breakfast wasn't a luxury I could afford. If I had to plot my own escape, I needed to get out of this cell. The best way to get out of this cell would be to "join" my captors. And the best way to join them would be to secure Bauer's favor. So I had to play nice. This was tougher than it sounded. Oddly enough, I had a problem sitting around chatting about the weather with the woman who'd thrown me into captivity.

"So you live near Syracuse," she said as I tore into my bagel.

I nodded, mouth full.

"My family's from Chicago," she said. "Bauer Paper Products. Have you heard of it?"

"It sounds familiar," I lied.

"Old money. Very old."

Should I be impressed? I feigned it with a wide-eyed nod.

"It's odd, you know," she said, settling into her chair. "Growing up with that kind of name, that kind of money. Well, not odd for me. It's all I know. But you see yourself reflected through other people's eyes and you know you're considered very lucky. Born with the proverbial silver spoon. You're supposed to be happy, and God help you if you aren't."

"Money can't buy happiness," I said, the cliché bitter on my tongue. Was that what this was about? Poor little rich girl? I'm rich and unhappy so I kidnap innocent strangers-well, maybe not so innocent, but unwitting nonetheless.

"But you are happy," Bauer said. A statement, not a question.

I managed a half-genuine smile. "Well, at this very moment, being held captive in a cell, I wouldn't exactly say-"

"But otherwise. Before this. You're happy with your life."

"No complaints. It's not perfect. There's still that nasty werewolf curse-"

"You don't see it that way, though. As a curse. You say it, but you don't mean it."

She stared at me now. No, not at me. Into me. Eyes blazing, leaning forward. Hungry. I pulled back.

"Some days I mean it. Trust me." I polished off my bagel. "These are great. Real New York bagels. I don't suppose there's any chance of seconds."

She leaned back, flames in her eyes extinguished, polite smile back in place. "I'm sure we can arrange something." She checked her watch. "I should be getting you up to Doctor Carmichael for your physical."

"Is that a daily routine?"

"Oh, no. Yesterday was just a checkup. Today is the full physical."

Bauer lifted her hand. The door opened and two guards walked in. So that's where they'd been hiding. I'd wondered, hoping maybe Bauer felt comfortable enough to forgo the armed entourage. Guess not. The appearance of trust, but a lack of substance. Or perhaps just a lack of stupidity. Damn.

I had a neighbor. When I stepped from my cell, I saw someone in the room across from mine. A woman seated at the table, her back to me. It looked like… No, it couldn't be. Someone would have told me. I would have known. The woman turned half-profile. Ruth Winterbourne.

"When…?" I asked.

Bauer followed my gaze and smiled as if I'd uncovered a hidden present. "She came in with you. We were in Vermont near the meeting hall that morning. When we saw you leave with the Danverses, Xavier and I decided to follow. The rest of the team stayed near the others. We knew someone would be alone eventually. Fortunately, it was Ruth. A very good catch. Of course, any one of them would have been good. Well, except her niece. Not much use in an apprentice witch of that age. Savannah is another matter, given her youth and what we know of her mother's powers."

"How come I didn't see Ruth yesterday?"

"The trip was unusually… difficult for her. Her age. The very thing that makes her valuable is something of a liability. We overestimated the sedative dosage. But she's quite fine now, as you can see."

She didn't look fine. Maybe someone who'd never met Ruth would mistake the dull eyes, yellow-hued skin, and lethargic movements for normal signs of aging, but I knew better. Physically, she seemed well enough. No signs for illness or broken bones. The damage was deeper than that.

"She looks pretty down," I said. "Depressed."

"It happens." Statement of fact. No emotion.

"Maybe I could speak to her," I said. "Cheer her up."

Bauer tapped her long nails against her side, considering. If she saw an ulterior motive in my altruism, she gave no sign of it.

"Perhaps we could arrange something," she said. "You've been very cooperative, Elena. The others were worried, but other than the wall-punching, you've been surprisingly well behaved. I believe in rewarding good behavior."

Without another word, she turned and left me to follow. Inwardly I balked, but outwardly I trailed along at her heel like a well-trained puppy. Trained puppy indeed. Forgive me, but "well behaved" is not a term one ought to apply to a grown woman, yet Bauer said it without malice or insinuation. Be a good puppy, Elena, and I'll give you a treat. The temptation to show Bauer exactly what I thought of her reward system was almost overwhelming. Almost. But I did want to talk to Ruth. She was my only contact in this place, and I wasn't above asking for help. A spell had gotten us out of that doomed situation in the Pittsburgh alley. With her spells and my strength, we should be able to devise a way out of here.

So I was a good puppy. I suffered through the physical without protest. This time my visit to the infirmary wasn't nearly so unintrusive. They took X rays, blood samples, urine samples, saliva samples, and samples of bodily fluids I didn't know I had. Then they attached wires to me and took readings of my heart and brain. Carmichael poked and prodded and asked questions I'd blush answering for my gynecologist. But I reminded myself that this was the price of talking to Ruth, so I ignored the intrusions and answered the questions.