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"It was boxed up with the other evidence and packed away for a hundred years. When they opened the files in 1988, the From Hell letter wasn't there. It may have simply been misplaced. Conspiracy theories speculate that it was 'removed,' either by the police to cover a misstep, or by 'interested parties,' who feared it contained an important clue. Most likely, the truth is exactly what Xavier believes, that it was stolen for its value on the collectors' black market."
He paused, tilting his head slightly, eyes unfocusing as he retrieved something from his memory. "There was a story that it was bought by a Canadian collector. Interesting, given where Xavier claims it is now. I don't think there was ever much credence given to the rumor. It wasn't very interesting, given the other possibilities."
"That's the problem with the truth," I said. "Making things up is so much more fun. So what do you want us to do?"
Again, Jeremy paused, this time for a few minutes. Then he pulled his feet off the ottoman and straightened. "Look into it more before you get back to him. Be thorough, but be quick. If we can get to Hargrave, I want to make this deal before he decides to move on. Start by confirming what I've just told you. It's been years since I took an interest, so make sure the letter hasn't turned up in the meantime."
"I'll search the wire services--" I began.
"No, give Clay your access." He turned to Clay. "You can do that, right?"
"Simple enough."
"Then, Elena, you get back to Xavier. He said he'll make this easy, but I want specifics. Make sure he can give us blueprints, security codes, keys, anything we might need. This isn't our area of expertise, so I want all the professional work done for us and provided in advance so we can get a second opinion."
"Karl?"
Jeremy nodded.
"I'll get on it," I said.
"That leaves the spell," he said. "I'll verify that."
"Spell?"
"Xavier claims this letter is protected by a spell that will stop anything in human form. I want to be sure such a spell exists--or that it could exist. Paige or Lucas should be able to tell us that, or find someone who can."
Diversion
WHEN WE FINISHED OUR RESEARCH, JEREMY HAD ME CALL Xavier to accept his offer and get David Hargrave's new address. Clay and Antonio took care of Hargrave right away. And no, that didn't mean they took him aside and gave him a stern talking to. Sometimes that's all that's required, but if a mutt catches the Pack's attention, it usually means he's gone beyond the "occasional slip-up" stage, and needs more than a warning.
They found Hargrave right where Xavier had told us he'd be. So we were ready to uphold our end of the deal. Yet it seemed that wouldn't happen anytime soon. When I called Xavier, things weren't going well on his end. Although he assured me he was just working out some kinks, I got the impression the buyer was waffling. When a month passed, with no word from Xavier, we figured the deal had fallen through.
Two more months passed. Spring became summer, then headed toward autumn. I was racing through the forest, hot breath billowing smoke signals into the cool night air. Adrenaline rippled through me with each stride. A glorious late summer night, capped off by a perfect run.
I lunged through a stand of trees and launched myself. In midflight, pain ripped through my abdomen, and I crashed sideways to the forest floor. When I tried to get up, machine-gun bursts of cramps doubled me over and pushed me back down.
I lay on my side, moaning, claws scrabbling against air. A burst of wetness under my tail. The smell of blood filled the air. Still racked by cramps, I managed to twist around. Blood pooled in the leaves under my backside. Fur clotted the blood; fur too dark to be my own.
Oh, God, no. Please--
A tremendous wave of pain ran through me, so intense I thought I was spontaneously changing back to human form. Then a horrible wet plop, as something fell onto the leaves.
At first I saw only a dark lump, black against the blood. Then in a flash, I saw everything--the tiny limbs contorted by their own Change, the head nearly perpendicular to the body, neck snapped, broken by me, by my Change, my selfishness, my thoughtlessness.
I screamed.
"Shhhh." The wind whistled through the trees overhead. "Shhhh."
I tried to move, but something held me fast, something warm and solid. My eyes flew open and I saw the full moon overhead, bright blue against the night. A full moon? Hadn't it been a quarter moon earlier? I blinked, and saw two moons hanging over me.
"Elena?"
Another hard blink, and the blanket of sleep fell away. Clay's face, twisted with worry, hovered over mine.
"What did you dream?" he whispered.
I opened my mouth, but only a whimper came out. His arms tightened around me. I started to relax, then the images from the dream flew back and I jerked away. I ran my hands over my rounded belly. Still there. So big. Too big. I was barely past the halfway point, and already people were stopping me in the supermarket to ask how many weeks--or days--I had left.
