They’d dropped Ben and the caterer off two blocks from Ben’s condo since neither of them knew anything about the girl and she was carrying no ID. Arra had woken them and then they’d driven off before they were noticed.

“Oh, crap. Their cars. We left their cars behind; no way they got that far south walking.”

“It’s a minor point.”

“Not to them, it won’t be.”

“They have a forty-eight-hour hole in their memories. I think it will be.”

Put like that, Tony’d admitted she had a point.

She’d been pretty quiet the rest of the way to the co-op, and had said next to nothing while she made a new batch of potion. Too busy eating the burger and fries he’d picked up to worry about the silence, Tony hadn’t really noticed something was wrong until she’d capped the second thermos and headed straight for her computers.

And essentially disappeared.

Scratch a little disturbing. It was definitely freaking him out.

He swung his backpack up onto one shoulder, taking what comfort he could from the familiar feel of the thermoses smacking him in the kidneys just above one of the bruises Mouse had left him. “I’ll just meet Henry out front.”

This time, not even a grunt. One game ended. She started a new game immediately.

“I’ll see you tomorrow morning at work.”

“Tony.”

He paused and turned to face her again.

“Remember that the gate works both ways. You have to stop the shadows returning to him, but you also have to make sure nothing worse comes through.”

All of a sudden the lines of electronic playing cards took on a new menace. “Is that what you’re looking for? Something worse?”

“I don’t know.”

“Something worse,” Tony muttered moving the lamp into place. “Way to be specific.”

“Let it go.”

“How?”

Henry wisely decided not to answer. “The gate’s about to open.”

They were alone in the soundstage. The gate opened and closed and they were still alone. Wherever—whoever—the last shadow was, it wasn’t going home. Not yet. Tony had no idea what the hell he was going to do tomorrow morning. Not going to be as simple as turning on a light, he acknowledged, his hands shaking as he rolled up the cable.

“Are you all right?”

“Sure. Fine.” He’d never felt the pull of the gate so strongly. Had actually found himself stepping toward it, his body practically vibrating with need. New call, familiar feeling. Only a white-knuckled grip on the sound board had held him in place. Not moving—not answering—hurt.

“This shadow-taint of yours; did the wizard mention how we can remove it?”

“No, because that would require a lack of ambiguity.” Cables stowed, he straightened. “Just takes time, I guess.”

In the dim glow of the emergency light, he saw Henry frown. “It seems stronger than it was.”