Over short distances, Henry could move too fast to be seen if he had to. Tina was barely three meters from the van when he caught up to her, slipping into a triangle of darkness made by the corner of a building before she was aware of his presence. Caution was called for. The world through the gate knew his kind and he had no doubt that he would, like the wizard, be returned to the Shadowlord as a prize were he to be taken.

And that would be the good news.

The damage a shadow could do while in control of his body didn’t bear thinking about.

As Tina passed him—her stride purposeful, her gaze fixed on the middle distance—he sifted the night air for an otherworldly taint. She was flesh and blood and as much in control of herself as anyone in this day and age.

Flesh and blood. He felt his lips draw up off his teeth. The Hunger flared. It was always harder to put the genie back in the box. “Tina.”

She turned at the sound of her name, curiosity taking care of the very little choice Henry’s voice had left her. “Yes? Hello?”

Stepping out into the circle of illumination cast by the streetlight, he smiled and caught her gaze with his. “Just a moment of your time.”

When he stretched out his hand, she frowned slightly, not fighting the compulsion but very nearly questioning it. When he called her name a second time, she cocked her head, considered, then smiled and laid her fingers across his palm.

Two steps back and they were both shielded by the darkness. He lifted the hand he held to his mouth, turned it, and touched his lips to the soft skin of her wrist. Her eyes, still locked on his, widened then, as she sighed, half closed. For a change, the emotional component of feeding was more on his side than hers. A chance to stroke the Hunger—a gentle acknowledgment that left it easier to control.

To the casual observer they were now more than just friends. Anyone looking closer would refuse to see what was actually happening.

“Fuck, Henry; you fed off her?”

Half into the driver’s seat, Henry paused. “How . . . ?”

“It’s all over your face.”

Startled, he leaned toward the rearview mirror.

“Not blood,” Tony snorted. “It’s this whole preternatural calm thing you’ve got going just after you feed.”

“Preternatural?”

“Don’t change the subject. You fed off Tina.”

“There was no shadow.” He held out his hand for the keys.

“So very much not the point,” Tony told him, dropping them on his palm.

“It was, in one way, for her own protection.”

“Against what? High blood pressure?”

“Against the shadow.”

Tony waited for the rest of the explanation as Henry started the car and put it in gear.