Arra nodded agreement. “Yes, I thought of that after Keisha arrived.”

“And?”

“And then I realized I work best in a familiar environment.”

Tony stared at the side of her face. “I had to beat up girls,” he said at last.

“That’s a bit sexist, don’t you think?”

“No.”

“And given the results, not entirely accurate. There’re still girls at the studio,” she added when he didn’t respond.

“Your point?”

The brow he could see lifted into a distinctly sardonic arch.

“Never mind.” He glanced at his watch. “I’d better call CB. Make sure the Shadowlord’s even still at the studio. Maybe he’s convinced Mason to take him clubbing.”

“I thought CB had arranged to have promo shots done?”

“Yeah. So?”

“So, it would take more than an extraordinarily powerful, evil wizard to keep Mason Reed from having his picture taken.”

“Valid point.” CB’s cell phone rang half a dozen times before he answered. Worried that the boss might be standing where he could be overheard by the enemy, Tony started talking immediately. Safest if he just has to answer yes or no. “Hey, CB, it’s Tony. Is he still there?”

“Yes, he is.” A dark, smooth voice that caressed each word. Definitely not CB’s voice. “And he’s wondering what’s taking you so long.”

The line went dead.

Tony dropped his phone like it was contaminated. “He’s got CB.”

“The Shadowlord answered CB’s phone?”

“Yeah.”

“Tell me exactly what he said.” She frowned as Tony told her. “He’s posturing. Trying to frighten you. Rattle you.”

“News flash. It worked.” His palms left damp streaks on his jeans.

“Yes, but if he’d said nothing at all, you’d have kept talking. Probably said you were with me. Said we were on our way.” Her voice trailed off and she drummed her fingers on the steering wheel. “This isn’t like him,” she announced three blocks later. “He could have gathered information, but he didn’t—he played boogeyman instead. That’s just not like him.”

“How do you know?”

“I may not have stuck around for the big finish, but I was there for the rest of the war,” she snapped. “I know him.”

“Uh-uh, you knew him,” Tony amended. “You knew him when he was conquering. He’s conquered. He’s been ‘the conqueror’ for seven years. He’s not the same guy you faced. Seven years—fuck, everyone changes over that long a time.”

“Your Nightwalker?”

Tony thought of Vicki Nelson’s conquest of Vancouver and snickered, amused for the first time in . . . well, since girls started smacking him around anyway. “You have no idea.”

“No. You have no idea.” But it was a playground response and she sounded unsure and Tony figured that shaking up a few of her carved-in-stone opinions about the Shadowlord was probably a good thing.

Probably.

Maybe not.