Henry opened the last door and found himself pushing through racks of clothing. He couldn’t hear Tony. He should have been able to hear Tony. If Tony’s heart was still beating. If it wasn’t, a second death became a lot more likely. Easy enough to race along scent trails to another door and another sign: DO NOT ENTER WHEN RED LIGHT IS ON.

The soundstage.

Soundproof.

As he pushed open the door, the terrified pounding of Tony’s heart rushed out to fill all available spaces. Snarling, Henry ran toward the source, following it unerringly through the maze of walls and cables and equipment. There was light, but he didn’t need it. Tony’s terror acted as both guide and goad.

He found Tony on the floor under the gate, half-sitting, cradled in a parody of affection against the body of a large man. His heels drumming on the floor, Tony clawed at both meaty arms wrapped around his chest.

Henry came one running step closer.

And saw the band of shadow across Tony’s eyes.

Two steps.

The shadow disappeared.

Three steps.

Tony stopped struggling. His heart slowed between one beat and the next to just below normal speed.

The man—Mouse—let go. Head cocked to one side, Tony folded his legs and sat cross-legged on the concrete. Then he looked up and met Henry’s eyes.

“I see you, Nightwalker.”

Henry snarled to a stop inches from Tony’s folded legs.

“Just so you know, I’m not going to let you stop this,” the thing that wasn’t Tony added as Mouse rose slowly to his feet.

In his own time, Henry had not been tall. In this century, he was short. Mouse—the thing that was Mouse—towered over him.

“You have no power over us, Nightwalker.”

Henry glanced down at Tony, back up at Mouse, smiled and swung, not particularly caring about the crack of bone. From the look of him, the cameraman had probably been in hundreds of fights. This one ended before he had a chance to join in. His head snapped back, his eyes rolled up until only the whites showed, and he crumpled to the concrete.

His shadow hit the concrete with him and no metaphysical shadows appeared. It seemed that an unconscious body produced an inoperative shadow. That was definitely something to remember.

“He’ll be pissed when he wakes up.” The Tony-thing sounded almost cheerful as he stood. “Even think of slamming me like that and before I go, I’ll fry the kid’s wetware.”

Henry forced his fists back down by his side and growled, “Get out of him!”

“No problem. The moment the gate opens, I’m gone. I know what he knows and he knows what the boss wants to know.”

“He doesn’t know anything.”

“And I’d believe that, too, except I’m in his head and you aren’t, dude.”

“Dude?”

“Hey, that’s in here.”