He met my gaze, his eyes wary but determined, as if he knew he was sliding onto dangerous ground, but refused to backpedal.

“And you’re right,” I said. “I’m off my game. I know it. I also know that any risk I take, I’m not just taking for myself, but for our child. Our child. If you think I’m safer hiding out with Antonio and Nick, then I’ll go.”

“But that’s not what you want, is it?”

“You know it isn’t. I want to stay with you, and watch your back. Yours and Jeremy’s, because, no matter which of us bears this ‘mark,’ I think we’re all targets. I want to finish this, and I want to go home knowing everything’s okay-that we’re all safe and okay.” I touched my fingertips to my belly. “All of us.”

He nodded and looked away, eyes unfocused. After a moment, his gaze swung back to mine. “I want you here, with me, more than I want you gone. But there’s one thing I’ll need you to do.”

“What’s that?”

“Stay with me. Right with me. At my side. At all times. No arguing about space and privacy. I need to be beside you, to be sure you’re safe.”

“That’s fine.” I managed a smile. “But I still get those bathroom privacy privileges, right?”

“Depends on whether there’s a window someone can crawl in through.”

“Fair enough.”

“And private bathrooms only.”

I laughed. “You’re going to follow me into public restrooms? That I have to see.”

“You just might. Now let’s go tell Jeremy. Then we’ll finish this and get home.”

Back to Cabbagetown. Four times around the perimeter, and twice down the portal street itself, and all I could find with that rotting scent were the two trails: the bowler-hatted man and Rose.

We knew there was a possibility that we hadn’t found a trail because there wasn’t one-that there was no missing zombie. We were basing our “portal closing theory” on a single two-hundred-year-old case. But, for now, it was all we had.

If we were missing something, we couldn’t rely on Robert to find it. Having lost Shanahan, our best source for information was the person who’d gotten us into this mess. So I made the call I’d been dreading.

I phoned from our hotel. Clay stood by.

“Elena!” Xavier said. “What the hell happened? Where’s my package?”

I told him. Silenced buzzed along the line, then, “Huh, well, that’s strange but, you know, these things happen. I’m sure it has nothing to do with the letter, so just go ahead and send-Or, better yet, since we are running behind schedule, send it-”

“Directly to the buyer?”

“Er, right. Just, you know, incase-”

“It is demonically possessed?”

“Hey, I’m being careful. Send the letter, go on home and relax.”

“After unleashing hell on Toronto?”

“From what I saw, Toronto could use a hell portal or two. Besides, you don’t live there anymore. What do you care?”

I told him why I cared.

“Er…that’s not good. And the…boyfriend. How’s he taking this?”

“The fact that his mate is marked and on a zombie hit list? Here, why don’t you ask him?”

I pulled the phone from my mouth. As Clay reached for it, Xavier’s voice rang down the line.

“No, that’s okay! Tell him I have no idea what’s going on, but anything I can do to help, just ask.”

“How about coming here and dispatching the zombies yourself?”

“Except that. But anything else, I’m your man. Oh, and don’t worry about the letter. You can keep it.”

“You’re too kind. Now start by telling us everything you know about it.”

It wasn’t much. The buyer was a human with no supernatural connections, and he’d wanted it for the very reason Xavier had given: DNA analysis and a book/movie deal. Plus, Xavier had been the one to approach him with the offer-through his black market contacts, Xavier had heard the man was in the market for Ripper letters, and paying well.

“I could set you up with the original thief, Zoe Takano,” Xavier said. “Maybe she knows more.”

“The thief who stole it eighty years ago? Where is she? Shady Acres Home for the Supernatural Aged? She must be at least a hundred-oh, wait. She’s a vampire, isn’t she? Any idea where we’d find her?”

“Right there. Toronto born and bred. That’s how the letter got there. The Shanahans are clients of hers. Have been for decades.”

The thief knew Patrick Shanahan? Then we definitely wanted to talk to her.

“Do you know her?”

“Zoe and I don’t move in the same circles. But I can tell you where you might find her. She’s been doing her business out of the same bar forever. Creature of habit. Vamps are like that.”

He promised to call back with an address and whatever details he could scrounge up.

Two minutes after I hung up, the phone rang again.

“Fast work, demon,” I said as I answered it. “Keep that up and you might find your way out of my bad books.”

Silence.

I glanced at the call display. I’d seen a semifamiliar long-distance number before answering…but now realized it wasn’t the one I thought it was.

“Uh, Robert,” I said. “Sorry about that. I was expecting-”