She rolled her eyes. “How hard can it be?” A raised hand cut off Henry’s reply. “Kidding. Of course I can drive. I live in downtown Vancouver and I work in Burnaby—only the young have the kind of stamina commuting by transit requires.” A glance down at Tony and then over to Mouse. “Carry him out to the car for me, Henry, time’s wasting.”

Still on the floor, Tony watched Henry follow Arra out of the soundstage, Mouse’s large body cradled ludicrously against his. He says he’s coming back, he reminded himself. Don’t get rid of a vampire that easily.

Don’t get rid of a vampire at all.

His head felt like the city was doing road repairs across his cerebral cortex. Jackhammers, hot tar, the whole nine yards. As far as he could tell, it was the potion’s only effect. Even the alcohol seemed to be wearing off. If he poked at the right place, he remembered how it felt as the shadow shoved him to the back of his own mind . . .

Not going there.

A deep breath and he got to his feet, just as glad he was doing it out from under Henry’s watchful gaze. He couldn’t have really indulged in the wincing and the groaning with Henry there.

He was unlocking the wheels of the carbon arc’s stand when Henry returned. “This thing’s worth a fortune,” he said, motioning Henry around to the other side. “The security around here sucks.”

“That thought had crossed my mind, not the price of the lamp but definitely the sucking.”

Tony pointed and Henry rolled the heavy lamp back where it had been on the edge of the set.

“When you were asking Arra . . .” He stopped and started again. “Do you think the Shadowlord is looking for Arra, specifically?”

“I don’t know. If he knew he was opening the same gate she did, he had to know she’d be here somewhere. But I got the impression he didn’t expect her to stay around the gate.”

“Maybe you should ask her why she did?”

Red-gold brows rose. “Me?”

“Why not you?”

“I don’t think she likes me much.”

“Vampire, remember?” He dragged the sleeve of his jacket across the glass lens. “You could make her like you.”

“You know it doesn’t work like that.”

Tony discarded half a dozen responses. Some of them were even true. Finally, he sighed and nodded. “Yeah. I know.” Bending to resecure the brakes, he had to catch himself on a cross brace, sucking air in through his teeth.

Henry didn’t say anything until he straightened.

“You’re hurt.”

“It’s just bruises.”

“There’s blood.”

Right. Tony picked at the bits of gravel embedded in his other hand. “I’ll heal.”

I always have.