Chapter One: Chiara
Chiara Jenkins stared at the map before her with a frown.
She’d followed a trail of cryptic hints ever since she’d first discovered the map in a bookshop, hidden between the pages of an old French book that was slowly falling apart.
That’s how she’d ended up in France.
She didn’t actually speak any French. But that hadn’t stopped her from realizing that she was holding an extraordinary find in her hands as soon as she saw the map.
There’d been something weird about it. Something connected to the supernatural world.
And ever since she’d been first attacked by a man who’d turned into a wolf right before her eyes, she’d dedicated her life to uncovering this mystery.
It didn’t matter that both cops and doctors had called her crazy when they thought she couldn’t hear.
It didn’t matter that her dad hadn’t talked to her in a year, ever since she’d left her awful, crushing minimum-wage job where she’d been dealing with customer complaints day in, day out.
What mattered was that there was an entire world out there that most people couldn’t even see.
But Chiara could. She’d started researching werewolves as soon as she’d realized that no one would ever believe her.
Turned out that there were a lot of people on the internet who’d seen similar things. Not just werewolves—but also fairies, ghouls, vampires, aliens.
Chiara still wasn’t one hundred percent sure if she believed in aliens, but the website she now wrote for had run a pretty convincing theory last year, claiming that all the sightings of werewolves, vampires, and other monsters were caused by the tests aliens did on humans.
It was at least more convincing than the idea that the world was just collectively going mad.
She knew what she’d seen. And there were so many people who’d seen similar things. Not just werewolves—but some people had seen humans turn into lions, cats, all sorts of animals. Even bats.
Chiara had fortunately never met a vampire in her research, but if people could turn into bats, then why shouldn’t the rest of it also be true?
“Another drink for you, mademoiselle?”
The bartender spoke with an accent, but there were apparently enough tourists coming through this little mountain village in France that they were used to American tourists like Chiara. And the French accent was incredibly charming, if the guy wasn't old enough to be her father.
Also, I have no time for romance, she reminded herself firmly, ignoring the man further down the bar who’d given her a slow smile when she’d come in.
She was here for work. The map had led her to this village, and it was going to lead her further into the mountains. She didn’t even know what exactly was hidden there—but it had to be something good.
The map was covered with all sorts of arcane symbols that she’d gotten to know during her year writing for the Extraterrestrial Enquirer.
The corners of the map were decorated with the symbols of the four elements: Air, Earth, Water, Fire.
At the center of the map, there were strange, twisting paths that had finally led her to this village, after a month of obsessively searching Google Maps. The path started from this village, leading to something that looked like a maze. And in that maze, there was another symbol.
A triangle, with three lines pointing up from it.
She wasn’t quite sure what exactly it meant, but from what she’d been able to make out from the ancient, dusty book, it had to be an artifact of immense power.
And once I’ve found it, they’ll have to listen to me. They can’t call me crazy if I’m holding it in my hands, if they can see its power.
It was a good plan. Or at least, after more than a year of being called crazy, it was the only plan she’d been able to come up with. The only way to show that she wasn’t mad, that werewolves were real, and that everyone who didn’t believe her was in great danger.
But first she’d have to make her way through a labyrinth in the French Alps.
The plane tickets had used up all that was left of her sparse savings from the years spent in customer service hell. And the articles she now wrote about the paranormal underworld out there paid even worse than being shouted at by displeased customers all day.
This was it. Her last chance to show the world the truth.
With a deep sigh, she closed her notebook and the battered map inside it.
She’d already spent so much time hunched over that map. Anything she hadn’t found out so far wasn’t going to make a difference.
“Another drink?” the barkeeper asked.
How much money did she have left? She probably shouldn’t.
On the other hand, maybe she was going to die tomorrow, so what did it matter?
“Please,” she said and forced herself to give him a smile.
At least there weren’t any werewolves here. She’d read up on the place and its legends, and while there were many myths in France about werewolves, this particular area was curiously lacking in reports about paranormal activity.
Which didn’t have to mean anything, but maybe there was a reason the map had led her here...
She forced herself to sip slowly. She didn’t want to go to bed, not yet. She was so close. So very close.
She wouldn’t be able to fall asleep with the excitement curre