Broken (Otherworld 6)

"Can't," Jaime said. "When the zombies are resurrected at the portal, they return to him. Like homing pigeons. So the controller has to stay close by."

"There's our plan, then," I said. "We find one of the zombies, then kill him, and someone waits at the portal to follow him back to his controller."

Rats

KILL A ZOMBIE, THEN FOLLOW HIM OR HER BACK TO THE controller. Sounded simple enough. Or it would be, once we found a zombie to kill.

Jeremy decided we'd wait until nightfall, then return to the warehouse district where we'd found Rose. She'd obviously been comfortable there, so she might return. Even if we couldn't find a zombie, we were pretty sure one would eventually find me.

In the meantime, Jeremy and Antonio would return to Shanahan's house, this time searching for clues not about the letter, but about Shanahan's current whereabouts. Clay, Nick and I would visit the person most likely to have had contact with Shanahan--his secretary.

While Antonio and Nick checked in and unpacked, I helped Jaime do the same. She'd already booked a room, but it was two floors from ours, so Jeremy insisted she switch to the same floor. Changing rooms was easy enough--with the cholera outbreak, the concierge told us half of their reservations had been canceled, and a lot of current guests had decided to cut their visit short.

Clay brought Jaime's luggage over from our room, then left us to unpack. Or he pretended to leave, though I knew he'd stay close, probably in the hallway.

As soon as the door closed behind him, Jaime wilted against the wall.

"Made a complete jackass of myself, didn't I?" she said.

"What do you mean?" I said as I stooped to unzip her suitcase.

"I'll get that," she said. "Sounds like you'll have a busy day. Sit while you can."

When I hesitated, she took the suitcase and shooed me to the bed.

"I do want to do a Toronto show," she said as she took out her toiletry bag. "I wasn't making that up."

"I never--"

She slanted a look my way. "Come on. I show up with some lame story about wanting to check out show venues, and the first thing you all thought was 'Yeah, right.' But it's true. I plan to do a winter appearance, and I need to check out places. I thought this would be a good time to do that if it means I can help you guys with this. Help all of you." Another quick look at me. "Not just Jeremy."

"I don't think you showed up because of Jeremy."

"Well, that makes one of us." She sighed and hung a dress in the closet. "I do want to help, but if it had been someone else? Would I have been on that plane so fast?" She shook her head and took a shirt from her suitcase. "I'm trying to get past it. It's embarrassing."

"Being attracted to someone isn't a cause for embarrassment."

She gave me a look. "Tripping over my feet every time I see him? Tripping over my tongue every time I talk to him? For three years? With no sign that he's the least bit interested in return?"

"With Jeremy--"

"I can't expect the usual signs, I know. But he has to know how I feel. Hell, everybody else does."

"If you'd let me ask--"

She waved her hands frantically. "Oh, God. Stop suggesting it or I'm liable to break down and say 'Go ahead.' Can you ima

gine? It's like in fifth grade, getting your friend to pass a guy a note asking if he likes you."

"It wouldn't be--"

She met my gaze. "Please, don't. I'm not being coy, pretending I don't want you to when really I'm hoping you'll go ahead and do it. Two years ago, maybe I would have. But now..." She dropped her gaze to the shirt in her hands, refolding it. "I'm starting to feel like, maybe, Jeremy and I, you know, can still be friends. As cliche as that sounds, it's not so bad."

She took a deep breath, then firmly shook her head and hung up the shirt. "Once I get past that schoolgirl-flustered stage when I first see him, I'm okay, and I can talk to him. Better yet, he listens." A small smile. "Even talks in return sometimes."

"That's a good sign. Listening Jeremy's good at. Talking? Not if it's remotely personal."

"I know. And the stuff I can talk to him about..." When she grabbed a handful of shirts, her fingers were trembling slightly. "It's not stuff I normally talk about. I don't feel I have to be...I don't know, my showbiz self." She flashed a smile my way. "Who knows, maybe someday I'll even change his mind. Until then, though, it's good."