Figuring he had enough mayhem in his life at the moment, Tony tucked his hands in Zazu’s armpits—front leg pits?—and carefully lifted her down to the floor. She snorted, sounding remarkably like Arra, sat down, and licked her butt. Never having spent much time with cats, Tony’d never realized they were so good at making their opinions known. “I thought I didn’t understand about you not getting involved?”

“What?”

“You said you weren’t going to get involved.” He stepped carefully around Whitby who was now winding between his feet, determined to be punted across the apartment.

“I’m still not going near the gate when it’s open, but I suppose I can bullshit you past a few carpenters.”

“What changed your mind?”

She paused, yellow raincoat up over one arm, and stared for a long moment at a framed Darkest Night promotion poster. “The cats like you,” she said at last.

“Arra!”

She jabbed at the elevator call button a couple more times as though hoping it would realize she was in a hurry and arrive.

“Arra!”

“I don’t think he’s going to go away,” Tony murmured.

Smiling tightly, she turned. “Julian.”

He shifted the Chihuahua in the crook of his left arm and, eyes narrowed suspiciously, stared around her at Tony. “It’s your turn to dust and vacuum the party room.”

“I don’t even live here,” Tony protested.

“Not you. Her.”

Except he was still staring at Tony—who’d have found it creepy had his creep level not risen over the last few days. It was, however, becoming more than a little annoying.

“The party room’s done.”

That snapped an equally suspicious gaze back to Arra. “It wasn’t done a moment ago.”

“Well, it’s done now. And look, here’s our elevator.” Her hand closed tightly around Tony’s arm just above the elbow, she propelled him inside, following right on his heels.

“Ow!”

“Sorry.” Arra turned and waved jauntily at Julian through the last six inches of open space.

Shoving his foot back into his shoe, Tony waited until the door was fully closed before asking if the wizard had magicked the room clean. He hadn’t seen any incantations or a wand or even an ambiguous gesture but then, what did he know about wizards?

She leaned against the back wall and folded her arms. “No. I lied.”

“You lied?” Wizards lied. All things considered, it was something to remember.

“Prevaricated, even. Julian’s an ac-tor, you know. He got up my nose before he became president of the co-op board; now he’s unbearable.”

Even on such short acquaintance, Tony could see where unbearable might be a justified definition. “And his dog is fat.”

“Tell me about it.”

“What if we shot flamethrowers through the gate?”

Arra finished merging her mid-’80s hatchback with traffic and glanced over at her passenger. “Flamethrowers?”