Keisha, Carol, and Elaine—the three women who’d run to comfort Lee. Wiping up his spills, holding his hand, offering comfort, and making it quite clear there was more being offered . . . Tony had to wonder if this was a message to him from the Shadowlord. If his nose was being rubbed in Lee’s obvious unavailability.

A sudden chill ghosted down Tony’s spine. Or was the message that Lee was at the studio with the Shadowlord, unprotected?

Elaine knocked again.

And, nice change, she went for his eyes not his balls.

“Put her on the bed with the others.”

“Yeah, yeah,” he muttered, patting the bleeding scratch on his cheek. “What did your last servant die of?”

Arra’s eyes lost their focus for a moment. “One of my order killed him while shadow-held. She melted his bones and left him lying in a fleshy puddle in the great hall. Without structure enough to scream, he died gurgling.”

Fighting the urge to vomit, Tony reached down and tucked his hands in Elaine’s armpits. He had a vague memory of deliberately not asking that question earlier. Apparently, his instincts had temporarily deserted him. Smart instincts. If he didn’t have to be around, he wouldn’t be. “You suck as a motivational speaker. You know that, right?”

“You asked.”

He laid Elaine out as comfortably as he could beside Carol and Keisha and stared down at them for a moment, hating to leave them trapped. Tormented. Keisha had cried out half a dozen times. Carol’s head almost continually jerked from side to side on the pillow. Unfortunately, if even the glare of light in the elevator hadn’t been enough to destroy his hitchhiker, there was no way anything in the entire co-op would affect, let alone destroy, these shadows. Well, nothing except Arra and she was saving herself for the final battle. At least, that was the benefit of the doubt explanation.

“I’m sorry,” he told them, as Elaine began to tremble. “It’s just . . .” Just what? He sighed. “It’s just, I’m sorry.”

Arra was packing up her laptop as he came out of the bedroom, “Have you worked it out, then?” he asked her, as she slid it into the case. “The light thing?”

“Yes, I have. I charged the potion while you were in with the girls; seal it up and let’s get going.”

“It’s still early. Henry won’t be awake for another forty minutes.”

“You told him to meet us at the studio?”

“Well, yeah, but . . .”

“I won’t be using any power during the drive. We’ll be moving more slowly than usual.”

That was the best news Tony’d had in days.

“And,” Arra continued, swinging her laptop case over her shoulder, “the shadow-held will have a lot more trouble finding us if we’re in a moving vehicle. Charging the potions may have created enough of an energy blip to alert him.”