I opened my eyes and it felt as if no time had passed at all-except that I was lying on the floor about fifteen feet behind Stefan's cage, my face pressed against the cool, dark linoleum tile. I tasted my own blood when I licked my lips and my face was wet.

Someone was fighting.

I moved my head until I could see better.

It was Andre and Ben. Ben's fur looked black as he danced in the shadows, looking for an opening against the vampire. He lunged forward, but Andre was faster, clipping him in the muzzle with his open hand. Ben slid away, mostly unhurt.

I think if they'd been fighting on dirt or something that gave Ben's claws a proper grip, Ben would have had the upper hand. But in the dark, on the slick linoleum, it was almost even.

Littleton stood with his back to the light, watching.

"Wait," he said, sounding like nothing so much as a disappointed film director. "Stop."

Ben snarled angrily and whirled to face his tormentor. Andre just stopped where he was, like a windup toy that had been suddenly turned off.

"I can't get a good view from here," Littleton said. "Come upstairs. You can play in the chapel while I watch from the loft."

He turned and strode off toward the doors that we'd left hanging open. He didn't turn to make sure that the others followed him-though they did. Andre walked a few feet behind the sorcerer, Ben's blood dripping from his fingertips. Ben was less obedient.

He stopped to snarl at Adam and Samuel who growled and snarled in return. Samuel hit his cage with a full force blow that turned out the light for a count of three.

When the light turned back on, Ben was standing in front of me.

"Wolf," said Littleton impatiently from outside the room.

Ben took one step closer to me and licked his lips.

"Come, Wolf." There was power in that voice, I could feel it myself.

Ben's lips lifted off his fangs, then he turned and ran out of the room. I heard the sound of his claws on the steps.

"Mercy, can you come to me?" asked Stefan in an urgent whisper.

Good question. I tried to move, but there was something wrong with my shoulder joint. My left arm didn't move at all. I tried moving my legs and saw stars. Hastily I dropped my head back to the floor and concentrated on breathing in and out. Cold sweat dampened my back.

After a count of twenty I tried again. This time I think I actually did pass out, but not for more than an instant.

"Nope," I said. "Not moving anytime soon. Something's wrong with my shoulder and neither of my legs is very excited about moving either."

"I see," said Stefan after a moment. "Can you look at me then?"

I tilted my chin and left my head on the floor where it wanted to stay. He was facing me, his eyes shimmering like a river of fire.

"Yes," I said-and that was all the invitation he needed.

"Mercy," he said, and his voice filtered through the cells of my body, filling me with purpose. "Come to me."

It didn't matter that my arm didn't work or that I couldn't get to my feet. Stefan wanted me and I needed to go to him.

Someone was snarling and the light was flickering crazily. Vaguely I noticed that Adam was throwing himself against his cage over and over again.

My breath came out in pained grunts as I pulled my uncooperative body over the cool floor using the elbow of my good arm, because I still had the stake in my hand.

"Shut up, wolf," Stefan's voice was soft. "Do you want him down here? I have a plan, but if he comes down here too soon, we'll all be dead-including Mercy."

When his voice stopped calling me, I rested, keeping my gaze on Stefan's. When he asked me to, I started moving again.

It took a long time, and it hurt a lot, but at last my cheek pressed against Stefan's cage.

"Good girl," he said. "Now put your fingers through the bars. No. You'll have to set the stake down for now. Good. Good. That's it. Rest now."

While Adam growled quietly, something sharp cut into my index finger. The pain was over too fast to worry about-just one small pain among many. But when Stefan's mouth closed around it I felt a sudden euphoria and all the pain went away.

Cold and bitter, something dripped into my mouth. I would have spit it out but it was too much effort. Gentle fingers, chill as ice, touched my cheek and someone whispered words of love against my ears.

A snarl wove its way into my world as the freezing liquid turned to fire and slipped down my throat into my stomach, forcing me back into awareness. The wild anger in that wolf's tone called an adrenaline rush of fear that brought me fully awake.

I lay curled around Stefan's cage. The stake had rolled under me and lodged uncomfortably between my ribs and the floor. The light was off again and I could smell burning flesh, even over the scent of demon.

Part of me knew I shouldn't be able to see anything this clearly, but for some reason my night vision was even better than usual. I could see Adam staring over my head, his muzzle wrinkled and his eyes brilliant yellow lit with rage that promised death.

I rolled my head a little so I could see what Adam was looking at. All I saw was Stefan.

The vampire had threaded his fingers through the bars a few inches above my hand. He had a cut on his hand, a wide open slash that was pouring blood. Some of it caught on the bars, but most of it slid down his fingers to drip on the floor. My neck and cheek were wet with it.

I licked my lips and tasted something that might have been blood-or it might have been the finest elixir of some medieval alchemist. One moment it tasted like blood, iron and sweet, and the next it burned my tongue.

Sparks glittered in the dark blood on the bars and sizzled on his skin where it touched the cage.

His face was hidden against his upright knee. "It's done now," he murmured.

I pulled back from the cage and then pushed awkwardly with my single good hand at his smoking limb, which was very cool to the touch, shoving Stefan back inside, away from the bars.

Slowly, he pulled his hand in toward his body and then raised his head, shutting his eyes when the dim lightbulb, freed from the odd effect of the cage's sorcery, came back on.

"It'll only last for a little while," he told me. "You're still hurt, so be careful not to damage yourself more than you can help."

I started to ask him a question, but Samuel howled and Adam, turning his attention away from Stefan and I, joined in the chorus. As their cries died away, I heard someone coming down the stairs. It sounded like Littleton was dragging something.

I dropped back to the ground, my hair over my face to hide it-only then realizing that I felt better. A lot better. Amazingly better.

One of the hallway doors was pushed open with a crash. Through the curtain of my hair I watched Andre fly through the doorway and land in an ungraceful heap on the floor.

Littleton liked to throw things.

"You didn't do it right," the sorcerer complained as he dragged a limp red werewolf through the doorway by one hind leg. "You have to do what I tell you. I didn't tell you to kill the wolf, it's not even midnight yet. You are not going to ruin my fun with an early kill."

He looked over at us, or rather at Stefan. I closed my eyes most of the way, and hoped my hair hid them well enough that he didn't realize I was awake.

"I am sorry," he said contritely as he approached Stefan, still dragging Ben. "I haven't been much of a host. I didn't realize you were thirsty or I'd have provided a meal. But then I suppose I just did."

He dropped Ben in front of me, then nudged me with a toe. "I might have played a little with this one," he said with a sigh. "But humans don't last as long anyway. Maybe I'll bring in a few more for food for you though. It might be fun to turn them loose in here and make you call them to you."