Chapter 49: Marked

Dawn, Savannah and Buffy came up empty when they finished searching the recycling box. If Shanahan had shredded the file, he took it with him. By the time they'd confirmed that, it was late enough to hunt down the second portal escapee.

When they left Shanahan's house, Dawn checked her voice mail and learned that Robert had called while they'd been inside. They called him back from the hands-free setup in the Explorer.

"I believe I have some good news for you," Robert said.

"You know how to close the portal," Buffy said.

"You were already on the right track and halfway there. To close a dimensional portal involving human sacrifice, all you need to do is return the sacrificed souls to the other side."

"In other words, kill the zombies," Buffy said. "If that is really what they are."

"Precisely."

"So that's what happened last time—someone killed the zombie and the portal closed?" Dawn asked.

"Well … not exactly. In that case, the portal was opened shortly after it was created. That meant that the sorcerer who created it was still alive and had control of the zombie. To kill the zombie, they needed to kill the controller."

"Like with one raised by a necromancer?" Dawn asked.

"Somewhat. Both types, if under someone's control, cannot be killed. Had yours been raised by a necromancer, a lethal blow simply wouldn't have been lethal."

"Yeah we know," Buffy said. "When I first became the Slayer, I fought zombies. It was my mom's first experience with the supernatural. I didn't know too much about zombies at the time and my mom suggested killing like a vampire. Shoved a stake through its heart and it just got right back up. They don't die without what's controlling them destroyed or dead."

"Precisely," he said. "But that clearly isn't what you have here. To contain zombies from the nineteenth century, your portal had to have been made around the time the letter was written. Only a sorcerer can create a portal, and they have normal life spans, meaning whoever made this one is long dead."

Dawn and Buffy rolled their eyes. A witch with enough power could create a portal. But most witches didn't have that kind of power, Dawn might but she had never tried a portal ritual.

"Hence any connection is already severed," Jeremy said.

Clay nodded. "So, all we need to do is kill the second zombie."

"Thereby returning the portal to a balanced state," Robert said. "Opening the portal allowed those souls to cross dimensions. That causes imbalance. Return them to the other side, and anyone who wandered into the portal will be released. Balance is restored. The portal closes."

They were counting on the woman being easy to find and at the end of an unbroken scent trail. Even after twenty-four hours, that wasn't as improbable as it might seem. She was from another century, and unlikely to have hopped on a GO train and headed for the suburbs.

The bowler-hatted man had adjusted to modern transportation quickly enough, but carjacking was probably little different from commandeering a horse or buggy. He'd figured out that cars were the modern equivalent of a coach-and-four, grabbed one and let the driver do the tricky part.

As for how he'd tracked them, they assumed it had something to do with the letter. As for why he'd wanted it—that puzzled even Robert. He could only guess that he'd tracked them like a domestic dog following a rabbit's scent—only because instinct told him to. To avoid the problem this time they'd left the letter in the car, hidden in a place that would require werewolf strength—or a hydraulic jack—to access.

They began the hunt in human form, in part because of Savannah they weren't sure if she could keep up with Slayer speed, starting a block from the portal site where Dawn, Buffy and Savannah had picked up the woman's scent earlier that day. It still surprised Buffy that the Slayer had enhanced Savannah's sense of smell, when it hadn't hers. But she knew that since Savannah was hereditary and not called like she was that it was possible that things might be different with Savannah compared to Buffy. They tracked the smell for five blocks.

When the trail hit an industrial area riddled with abandoned or semiabandoned buildings, it meandered, as if she'd lingered there. Eventually it led into one of these buildings—where she must have rested—then snaked out of the neighborhood and over to a busier street, still rife with industrial buildings and warehouses, but many converted to lofts and nightclubs. It continued down the street of nightclubs, past lines of people waiting to get inside.

"She crossed the road here," Buffy said.

They only got a few steps when Savannah, Buffy and Dawn picked up the smell of rot again, stronger and fresher.

"I'm getting it too," Clay said. "She's close."

Halfway across, Buffy, Dawn and Savannah stopped as a fresh wave of the scent came over on the breeze. They looked up to see a short, sturdy figure under a dim streetlight. She wore a hooded cloak of some kind, high heels and a short skirt. Her back was to us.

A car honked. Clay grabbed Dawn's elbow as Jeremy grabbed Buffy and Savannah's and they hurried across into the alley. Buffy and Dawn peered out, then ducked back around the corner.

"So how do we handle this?" Dawn whispered.

"Mercifully," Jeremy said.

"No questioning then?" Buffy asked.

"Don't need to," Clay said.

Jeremy shook his head. "Quickly and mercifully is best. Clay? Go out and ask her into the alley."

Clay looked at Jeremy as if he'd just been told to dance the rumba on a public thoroughfare.

Dawn and Buffy bit back a laugh. "Just walk over to her and point at the alley," Dawn said. "Maybe say…I don't know…something like 'fifty bucks.'" Dawn looked at Jeremy. "Does that sound right? Fifty?"

His brows shot up. "Why are you asking me?"

"I wasn't—I just meant, as a general…" Dawn threw up her hands as she looked at Buffy. "How am I supposed to know how much a hooker cost?"

"Your guess is as good as mine," Buffy smirked.

Dawn rolled her eyes. "Fine, fifty bucks sounds good. It's not like she knows what the going rate is anyway. Just say that and nod at the alley. She'll follow."

Clay continued to stare at them in silent horror.

"Oh, for Goddesses sake, you're ready to break her neck but you can't—" Dawn said.

"I'll do it," Jeremy said, then shot a look Savannah's way. "Not that I have any more experience soliciting prostitutes than Clay does. Buffy, maybe…" He nodded toward Savannah.

"Of course," Buffy said. "Honey."

Savannah nodded and walked halfway down the alley toward a dumpster as Jeremy headed out.

Jeremy chatted to her for a couple of minutes first. Then he led her into the alley.

When she saw them blocking the other end, she stopped. Jeremy, at her heels, moved fast, intending to snap her neck before she knew what was happening. Quick and merciful. But they'd tipped her off too quickly and she ran—right for Savannah who was still hidden. Dawn and Buffy quickly stepped in front of Savannah as Buffy feinted left and pulled back her fist, ready to swing … only to see the woman wide-eyed and cowering.

One look at her expression, and they knew she'd run to Savannah for protection. How she even knew the girl was there was beyond them.

The sisters looked over at Jeremy and Clay, but they were both caught off guard.

When no one moved, she bowed her head and started to sob. What they'd originally thought was a cloak was a shawl, pulled up around her face, so she could stay hidden in its shadow. That was probably the only way she could ply her trade in Toronto. From the glance the sisters had of her face, she could have passed for sixty—and a hard-drinking, hard-living sixty at that.

"Who are you?" Buffy asked.

Clay shot Buffy a glare. She returned it. As long as they were standing here, working on plan B, they might as well ask some questions. Not like anyone else was doing anything.

She gave a snuffle and wiped her nose on her gloves.

"I—I don't know," she said. "I don't remember. I was … someplace awful. For so long." Her shoulders bent with a stifled sob. "Purgatory, it was. That's where 'e sent me. I might not 'ave led a Christian life, but I didn't deserve that."

"Probably some hell dimension," Dawn whispered and Buffy nodded.

"It was a mistake that will be corrected," Jeremy said. "You said 'he,' you were murdered?"

As he spoke, Savannah slid to beside Buffy as the woman's head whipped around, eyes following the teenager.

"Almost due, ain't you, luv?" she said with a gap-toothed smile. Then she looked at Dawn finally taking her eyes off Savannah. "Such a pretty girl. You'll have a beautiful baby. Handsome and 'ealthy. You want me to tell you wot it'll be?" She stepped toward Dawn, her hands out. "It's an old midwife's trick, but it always works."

"Um, thanks," Dawn said, "but I'd rather be surprised."

"Humor me, child," she said, still coming toward me. "It'll only take a moment. I just lay me 'ands—"

Clay and Buffy leapt between the woman and Dawn. The woman stumbled back. Jeremy jumped to catch her. The shawl fell away. Clay yanked her away so hard they saw only a split-second flash of the woman's face, covered with a red rash and dotted with lesions.

Dawn moved to help her up.

"Dawn! No!" Buffy said. "She's contagious. Don't touch her."

Dawn frowned at her sister. "It's not contagious. She must be decaying—"

"Syphilis," Buffy said. "Dawn, she has, syphilis."

Dawn suddenly took a step back. She remembered the disease, seen plenty of people die from it firsthand. She couldn't die from it, she knew. But if her unborn child was like Savannah, in the fact that she wasn't immortal, then she couldn't risk getting the disease and passing it on to her unborn child.

"All 'ad a good eyeful, 'ave you?" the woman snarled, still on the ground. "Getting a good look at poor Rose?"

She turned to look at Dawn.

"Do you think you're safe now, girl? A big man to protect you?" She spat. " 'E'll use you up, and toss you aside. Weren't me work that gave me this—" She lifted her spotted hand. "It was me own 'usband. Gave me the pox, then left me to die." She smiled, showing teeth as rotten as her face. "But I got me revenge, yes I did. Sent many a man to 'ell looking just like me, and already got a couple more 'eaded there. Then or now, it's all the same. Long as your cunny works, they don't ask to see your face."

Dawn and Savannah both took a slow step back toward Clay.

"Your 'andsome man can't protect you, girl. Not with that mark you're bearin'."

"Mark?" Buffy said.

"'Twas her blood that opened the portal." She smiled. "Long as she's alive, we can find her. Just follow the mark."

"Great," Dawn murmured. "Just great another portal requiring my death."

"Yeah?" Clay said. "Works both ways, though, doesn't it? You can only find her as long as you're alive, which—" He wrapped his hands in the woman's hair. "—isn't going to be long."

A quick wrench, and her neck snapped, then he leapt out of the way before her falling body touched him. She'd barely hit the gravel before she started to disintegrate.

"We done here?" Clay said.

Jeremy nodded. "We're done."

They'd left the car back near Cabbagetown. A bit of a hike, so they stopped partway for cold drinks, taking seats on the outside patio just as an employee had been about to close it down for the night.

"So, she had syphilis," Dawn said. "And she's been spreading it."

"If she has, it was the guy's fault for not wearing protection," Clay said. "Anyone stupid enough to do that deserves syphilis or whatever else he gets."

Dawn gave him a look but didn't argue. It wasn't worth it. "But if someone does get syphilis—"

"Then it's his own fault." Clay's gaze met Dawn's. "Not yours, because your blood opened a portal and let her out. Wasn't even your fault the portal opened, not this time, Dawn."

"Clay's right," Buffy said, "I hit the mosquito. You want to blame someone, blame me."

"Even if someone does contract it, its treatable today with penicillin," Jeremy said.

"She's dead," Clay said. "Threat eliminated. Now what about this mark business? That must be why that guy came after Buffy, Savannah and Dawn yesterday. Not following the letter, but the mark."

Dawn nodded. "If they—whoever—want the letter back, the fastest way to find it is to find the person whose blood opened the portal. But that doesn't matter now. Like you said, the zombies are dead and gone to dust. So, what are we going to do with the letter?"

"You want to head back tonight?" Clay asked as they walked back to the car, lagging behind Jeremy. "Or find a hotel and take off after we've slept?"

"If you feel up to driving, tonight's fine with me. I know you want to get home."

He shook his head. "Doesn't matter. You don't sleep well in hotels, but you probably won't sleep any better sitting up in the car. Your choice."

Dawn squeezed his hand. "Thanks. I am ready to go home, but maybe…" She shrugged. "I don't know. I'd rather wait until morning, make sure everything's back to normal."

Jeremy slowed to let them catch up. "We should sleep first. We've had two late nights. And only Savannah and Buffy can handle late nights and that thanks to the Slayer part of them. So, we'll rest up, and then we'll head home."

0 – 0 – 0 – 0 – 0

Dawn woke up it was sometime in the early afternoon. While she was stretching and yawning, struggling to wake up, Clay pulled on clothes, went downstairs and got breakfast. Jeremy, Buffy and Savannah weren't in their rooms, but Jeremy had left a note saying where the three of them went, so Clay wouldn't worry. They ate and talked while they got ready to leave.

"It'll be nice to get back to my own bed," Dawn said, stretching out the kinks in her back.

"Speaking of which, I want to start on the nursery. And I think Buffy would like to get started on Savannah's room."

Dawn tore off part of her blueberry muffin and handed it to him as she started dressing. "We'll use the guest room. It's at the other end of the hall, but—"

"Jeremy suggested Malcolm's room, for the baby and the guest room for Savannah. It makes sense—Malcom's room is right next to ours, ideal for the baby and the guest room is next to Buffy's and would be ideal for Savannah."

Dawn sniff-tested yesterday's shirt, then pulled it on. "Is Jeremy okay with that? Using his father's room?"

"I think he wants us to." He finger-combed his curls and gave the job a cursory mirror check. "Room's been closed for twenty years. Time to make use of it. Open it up, clear out Malcolm's shit, air out the…" He shrugged.

"Air out the ghosts?"

A light rap at the door. Clay opened it as Jeremy, Savannah and Buffy came in.

"Good morning, I see you're—" Jeremy snatched the coffee from Dawn's hand. "That water hasn't been boiled, has it?"

"Boiled?"

"There's a problem with the drinking water," Buffy said.

"Likely the municipal supply." Jeremy held out a newspaper. "Remember those nurses last night? Talking about an influx of stomach complaints?"

Dawn glanced down at the headline. "Contaminated city water? That can't be. After Walkerton, Toronto's water supply is locked down tight."

Buffy nodded in understanding. Dawn had done a series of articles on Walkerton, an Ontario town with a mismanaged water supply. Seven people had died, and there'd been ongoing health problems. Since then, water safety had been a hot-button issue in the province.

"When they investigate, they'll find its bottled water," Dawn said. "Lot more Torontonians drink that anyway."

"Perhaps," Jeremy said. "But in the meantime—"

"We avoid all drinking water, tap or bottled," Buffy said.

"Got it. No big deal. We're leaving this morning anyway," Dawn said.

"Soon, but not just yet," Jeremy said. "That woman who disappeared in Cabbagetown is still missing."

"So?" Clay said. "Maybe she was disoriented after she came back and wandered off. Or maybe she never went through the portal at all."

"True, but a second resident has gone missing, in the same area. A man in his thirties, apparently out for a jog, which rules out dementia-induced wandering."

"He disappeared this morning? After we supposedly closed the portal?" Savannah said.

"There is no guarantee the portal is closed," Dawn said. "We only had the theory it was closed because it was what Robert suggested would happen. If it's tied to my blood it's not going to close that easy."

"Either way it doesn't mean he fell into the portal," Jeremy said. "Or that it isn't closed. But unless we coincidentally have a serial killer preying on residents in the same area where we opened that portal, I'd say it's safer to assume we missed one."

"A zombie, for lack of a better term," Dawn said. "I'm going to research that when we get home. See what kind of creature that was."

He nodded. "Buffy and I know you both want to go home, and now that we know Dawn is a target, that might be wise. Buffy and I can stay behind and scout today and have Antonio here by nightfall to help us with the hunt."

Clay flung his half-eaten apple onto the tray. It bounced off. They watched it roll across the floor. They all knew how Clay felt about protecting Jeremy.

"You stay," Dawn said to Clay. "If we call Nick now, he can probably make it to Stonehaven before Savannah and I do. And I will be fine for the trip with Savannah watching me."

Clay scooped up the apple and put it back on the tray, his jaw set. While he was sure Savannah would protect her aunt with her life. He still didn't like sending Dawn or Savannah back alone.

"Or we can stay," Dawn began.

"No."

"I don't see why not. If my blood did open the portal like we think. It doesn't say why I'm really a target? What would they want with me? Probably just to tell them where to find the letter, right?"

Jeremy nodded. "That's Robert's theory. Buffy and I called him this morning. He believes the zombies need the letter back—or think they do—and because your blood opened the portal, presumably you'd have the letter."

"What about ditching the letter?" Clay said. "Send it back to Xavier. Make it his problem."

"Make the portal Xavier's problem?" Buffy said. "I'm sure he'll rush right over to fix it."

Jeremy shook his head. "We caused the problem, we'll fix it. Even if the letter's gone, Dawn would know where to find it, so they'd still come after her. And we don't want to get rid of something we may need to close this thing."

"Back to the question," Dawn said. "Do I stay or do I go?"

Jeremy looked from Clay to Dawn, then murmured, "Savannah, Buffy and I will step outside."

"I don't want to fight about this," Dawn said when Jeremy, her sister and her niece were gone. "All I care about is getting the damage undone, which means closing that portal. I don't care who does it."

"If you're in danger, I'm staying with you, here or at Stonehaven. My gut reaction? Stonehaven—even if we did miss a zombie and it can follow you that far, which I doubt." He took a deep breath and shook his head. "But that means leaving Jeremy, Buffy and possibly Savannah behind, with some zombie who may have been following us and knowing they're connected to the letter."

He went quiet for a moment, then said, voice soft, "I'm trying not to freak out, Dawn. When that guy came after you, Buffy and Savannah in the truck stop, you know what I wanted to do?"

"Drag all three of us back to Stonehaven?"

"Primarily you, but yeah I would have dragged all three of you back." He said as Dawn smiled. He rarely mentioned how he felt about Buffy or Savannah. Both of them had wormed his way into his heart despite his objections to the contrary. She watched as he gave a small, humorless laugh. "Big surprise, huh?"

"No," Dawn said as she smiled. "No surprise. Remember we've known for a long time how you felt about my sister and niece."

Clay nodded. "Jeremy was right," he said. "We needed to come back and make sure this was over. Only, it's not over, is it? Now we've got these … zombies—" He yanked his hands from his pockets. "What the hell do I know about zombies? You know more than I do and even you don't know much about them. How can I—?" He bit off the sentence in a snarl.

"Protect me?" Dawn asked.

"Yeah, I know, you can protect yourself. Any other time, I'd agree."

"But right now, I'm pregnant. Very pregnant. Big, awkward, slow…"

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

"And you're right," Dawn 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 Savannah, Antonio and Nick, then Savannah and 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, Savannah's, Buffy's 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." Dawn touched her fingertips to her 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." Dawn managed a smile. "But I still get those bathroom privacy privileges with Buffy, right?"

"As long as she's there," Clay said. "I have no problem. I know she will protect you just as Savannah would."

"Yeah my family has always been like that," Dawn said. "Even before we knew Willow was my granddaughter she fought alongside Faith and Buffy. And Buffy for all intents and purposes is our Alpha."

"Yeah," Clay said. "I know. Been a time or two when I feared for my safety when it came to her protection of you. Despite her objections to the contrary I expect her to eventually succeed Jeremy as Pack Leader."

"So, do I," Dawn said. "So, do I. Now let's go tell Jeremy, Savannah and Buffy. 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 Dawn, Buffy and Savannah could find with that rotting scent were the two trails: the bowler-hatted man and Rose.

Savannah had even tried using her magical abilities to see if she could sense the portal. She couldn't. Either she just wasn't adept enough to feel it. Or it was closed. Only time would tell which.

If they were missing something, they couldn't rely on Robert to find it. Having lost Shanahan, their best source for information was the person who'd gotten them into this mess. So, Buffy and Dawn made the call they'd been dreading.

Dawn and Buffy phoned from the hotel. Clay and Savannah stood by.

"Dawn! Buffy!" Xavier said. "What the hell happened? Where's my package?"

Dawn and Buffy 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?" Buffy asked.

"Er, right. Just, you know, in case—"

"It is demonically possessed?" Dawn asked.

"Hey, I'm being careful. Send the letter, go on home and relax."

"After unleashing hell on Toronto?" Dawn asked.

"From what I saw, Toronto could use the Hellmouth acting up. Besides, you two don't live there anymore. What do you care?"

Dawn and Buffy told him why they 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?" Dawn said.

"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?" Dawn asked.

"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," Buffy said.

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?" Buffy said.

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

"Do you know her?" Buffy asked.

"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."

Buffy rolled their eyes. "Yeah, we know. Or did you forget who you're talking to, Xavier?"

Xavier laughed. "Right, Slayer. Forgot."

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

Two minutes after Dawn and Buffy hung up, the phone rang again.

"Fast work, demon," Dawn said as she answered it. "Keep that up and you might find your way out of my bad books."

Silence.

Dawn and Buffy glanced at the call display. They'd seen a semi familiar long-distance number before answering … but now realized it wasn't the one they thought it was.

"Uh, Robert," Buffy said. "Sorry about that. We were expecting—"

A soft chuckle. "Another demon?"

"Right, and one with a contact name and address, so Dawn got a little overeager," Buffy said.

"No doubt. Wrong demon, perhaps, but I'm calling for the same reason. With a contact name."

"Oh?" Dawn asked.

"I was making some calls myself asking about Jack the Ripper legends and supernatural connections, and someone suggested Anita Barrington. She's a witch running a bookstore in Toronto, and quite an expert on such lore. I know her only by reputation, but I thought if this was a potential shortcut to bypass my rather slow research…"

"We'll take it," Dawn said.