The problem was that Cassandra knew nothing about portals and Cabal curses, and didn’t even know for certain that we’d found Edward. She knew only that we were missing and he might be to blame. So she did the obvious: demanded to know where we were, whereupon Edward realized everyone knew we’d disappeared, which meant any hope of negotiating with the Cabals had also disappeared, which meant he didn’t need Cassandra to mediate for him. So he’d hung up.

Not surprisingly, no one had heard from Edward since. My first thought was that it was still over. Edward would go into hiding, no more Cabal kids would die, and the problem would be resolved, however unsatisfying that resolution might be. Again, Jaime knew differently. When Edward had been trying to persuade Cassandra to negotiate for him, his terms were that he would stop the killings if the Cabal reopened a portal for him. Of course that made no sense to Cassandra, and Edward hung up before she could demand an explanation. Once I told Jaime what happened, though, she knew exactly what he’d meant.

Once a portal to the ghost world had been ripped open, it remained “hot” for about forty-eight hours. That meant, with the right materials, it could be reactivated. As for what material such a reopening required, Jaime knew only that it involved a sacrifice—a human sacrifice. Yet she also knew it wasn’t as easy as selecting a random victim from the street. She had an idea where she could find details on the ritual, and promised to do so immediately. While I’d explained the situation to Elena and Clay, Lucas had called his father. We talked for another couple of minutes, then set out for our respective rental cars, which were parked in a lot near Edward’s hotel. We got less than a block before a familiar black SUV squealed a U-turn in front of us.

“How the hell…?” I said.

“Cell phone tracking, I would presume,” Lucas murmured.

As the SUV pulled to the curbside, I turned to say something else to Lucas, then saw the bloodstained bullet hole on his shirt.

“Shit!” I said. “Your shirt. A jacket, does anyone have—”

No one did, but it didn’t matter. Before the SUV even stopped rolling, the rear door opened and Benicio flew out. And, of course, the first thing he saw was that bullet hole.

Benicio stopped in mid-stride, gaze glued to that bloodied hole in Lucas’s shirt. All color drained from his face. He took one unsteady step toward his son. Lucas hesitated only a split second, then met Benicio in an embrace.

As the two hugged, Elena slipped off to the side, then returned, grabbed Clay’s arm, and tugged him away, motioning to me that they’d wait around the corner to give us privacy.

Lucas tried to explain away the hole, but it was too late. Benicio had already been to see Faye and she’d told him that Lucas was Edward’s next target. She hadn’tknown Lucas had been shot, but the moment Benicio saw that shirt, he knew, and there was no sense fudging the facts. We did, however, gloss over our afterlife visit, saying only that we’d fallen through the portal and reawakened here. Later, Benicio would undoubtedly press for details, but for now he didn’t care. Lucas was safe. That was all that mattered.

“So now we still need to find Edward,” Lucas said. “He’ll probably lie low—”

Benicio shook his head. “He’ll want to reopen the portal.”

“We did…entertain that possibility,” Lucas said. “We have Jaime looking into it now.”

“And I’ll get our researchers on it right away. For now, though, my first priority is you. I’ve made arrangements for you and Paige to be flown to the safe house, where you’ll—”

“No, Papá,” Lucas said quietly.

Benicio met his son’s gaze. “Don’t argue with me on this, Lucas. You are going—”

“I am going to continue what I started. As long as Edward is free, I still have a job to do.”

“Your job is done. It ends here, Lucas. I have never interfered before—”

Lucas gave him a look.

Benicio’s mouth set. “Not with this, I haven’t. I have never tried to stop these crusades of yours or dissuade you from them.” He stepped back. “Do you think I don’t know how often your life is in danger, Lucas? Do you know how many nights I’ve spent worrying? Wondering what kind of trouble you’ll get into next? But I have never said a word. You jaunt off to Boston to take on Kristof Nast over a witch, and I say nothing. You fly to California to confront a potential serial killer, and I say nothing. But now I am saying something. This time, my name isn’t enough to protect you, so I’m damned well going to do it myself. You are going to that—”

“No, Papá.”

They locked gazes and for a minute, just stood there, staring at one another. Then Lucas gave a slow shake of his head.

“No, Papá. This is my fight, just as much as anything else I’ve ever done. You’re right. All the ‘risks’ I’ve ever taken haven’t been risks at all, because of you and who I am. That has always kept me safe. So now, when I am—possibly for the first time—in real danger, do you honestly expect me to hide behind you? What kind of man would that make me?”

“A safe one.”

Lucas met his father’s glare with an unblinking stare. After a moment, Benicio turned away. From his profile, I could see his jaw working, struggling to rein in his anger. Finally, he turned back to Lucas.

“You’re taking Troy,” he said.