“Sexy. The gray adds a nice touch of sophistication.”

“Gray?” His hand shot to his cheek.

Behind me, Antonio laughed, then caught me up in a hug that did lift me off the ground. “You realize he’s going to spend the rest of the day in front of the mirror looking for that gray?”

“I think it’s sexy,” I said.

Nick turned to Clay.

“No,” Clay said. “You’re not borrowing my razor. You grew it, you get rid of it.”

“Troublemaker,” Antonio murmured to me.

He kissed my cheek, then leaned back for a better look. The shortest member of the Pack, a couple of inches under my five feet ten, Antonio was also still the brawniest and most powerful. He and Nick had passed themselves off as brothers for as long as I’d known them. Nick had been born when Antonio was a teen, so-combined with a werewolf’s slow aging, and Antonio’s zeal for healthy living-it had been decades since they could have passed for father and son.

“You look more beautiful every time I see you,” Antonio said. “Pregnancy suits you.”

I made a face. “I’m huge. Getting bigger by the hour.”

“You’re pregnant. You’re not supposed to be getting smaller.” One arm still around me, Antonio turned to the others. “So, I hear you have a little adventure for us.”

Theories

I SLID INTO THE BACKSEAT BESIDE NICK. CLAY SQUEEZED IN on my other side.

“Hey, Jer?” I said as we shifted around and fished for our seat belts. “Remember when you replaced the Explorer and I suggested buying the model with the third-row seat? Really would have been a good idea.”

“That’s why I offered to sit back there,” Jeremy said from the passenger seat.

“And how would that help? I’m not any wider than you. All my extra load is up front.” I bumped Nick’s hip. “You’ve got another couple more inches. Shove over.”

“This is fine.” Nick put his arm around me. “Nice and cozy.”

I swatted him away. “Move.”

“Settle down and buckle up, kids, so I can drive,” Antonio said, looking in the rearview mirror. He glanced over at Jeremy. “Maybe we should finish raising this generation before we start another one.”

Jeremy shook his head.

“I didn’t want to bring this up in the terminal,” Antonio said as he turned out of the parking building. “But does this have something to do with your problem?”

He handed Jeremy a folded sheet of paper. Jeremy read it, face expressionless. When he lowered and refolded it, I undid my belt and reached through the opening between the front seats. Jeremy hesitated, then handed it to me.

“They gave us that when we got off the plane,” Antoniosaid.

Clay looked over my shoulder as I read: it was a public health announcement, warning of cholera in the municipal water supply.

“Cholera?” I said. “I thought it was E. coli.”

“So did they, at first, I suspect,” Jeremy said. “That would be the natural assumption, given the source and the symptoms.”

“What’s cholera?” Nick asked.

“It’s a bacterium that gets into the water. Overcrowding and poor sanitation are the usual culprits. It’s almost unknown in the Western world now, but it was a serious problem in the nineteenth century.”

“Victorian England,” I said.

Jeremy nodded.

Cholera is an intestinal infection, not unlike E. coli. The main symptoms are diarrhea and vomiting, which can lead to dehydration and eventual death, but only if left untreated. With treatment and fluid replacement, the fatality rate is less than 1 percent.

Cholera is transmitted through feces, primarily by food and water becoming contaminated with raw sewage. Jeremy was pretty sure London ’s cholera problem had been resolved shortly before the time of Jack the Ripper, but sporadic cases had continued, as the problems of overcrowding and poor hygiene continued.

As for how cholera got into Toronto ’s water supply…according to Jeremy it was well-nigh impossible. It shouldn’t happen with modern sewage and water systems. Not by any natural means. But by now we were pretty sure “natural means” had nothing to do with the problems Toronto was experiencing.

Opening that portal had let out more than a couple of Victorian zombies. Jaime had warned us about smallpox leaking through that other portal. Somehow these zombies had brought a little of their home with them…and all of our modern precautions couldn’t protect against it.

“Cholera isn’t a cause for concern,” Jeremy said. “If it was, we’d be leaving. Tourism will suffer, which the city doesn’t need after last year’s SARS outbreak, but that’s likely to be the extent of the damage. It was caught quickly enough to avoid fatalities or long-term health problems.”

When I didn’t answer, he glanced back at me. “If you’re concerned, go ahead and call your local media contacts.”

I made those calls. I’d been dying to since all this started, but Jeremy had wanted me keeping a low profile. He didn’t think they could add anything we weren’t finding in the papers, and he was right. They did, however, reassure me that the city didn’t seem to be downplaying the severity of the cholera outbreak. If anything, after SARS, they were being overcautious. Right now, they were busy trying to clean up the system, which seemed to be far more difficult than it should be, confirming this was no natural outbreak.