He looked at Henry who was clearly waiting for him to make the decision. Oh, that’s just fucking great; one minute I’m his and the next minute I’m in charge. That whole on and off again, “I’m over four hundred and fifty years old and a prince and a vampire so I know best,” possessive attitude had been one of the main reasons he’d walked. There were times, and this was one of them, when he just wanted to punch Henry Fitzroy right in the fangs. Not that I’m ever going to. And right now, I need to stop reacting and start thinking.

They didn’t know where Lee was now.

They knew where he was going to be in four hours.

They didn’t know what condition he’d be in when the shadow left.

“Fine. Make the stupid potion.”

Wonderful. He sounded like he was twelve and a petulant twelve at that.

Fortunately, Lee was an actor; acting weird was part of the off duty persona and, in an area overpopulated by actors, most people had stopped noticing.

“All right, I got the stuff.” Tony kicked the apartment door closed behind him causing both of the wizard’s cats to glare up at him like he was some kind of big, scary door-slamming army. “Can we get started now?”

He handed over the bottle. “What’s this for?”

“Screwdrivers.” She walked past Henry and into the kitchen. “After you two leave, I’m going to need a drink.” As they crowded into the tiny space after her, she glanced up at them and shook her head. “No sense of humor, either of you.” Cracking the seal, she poured the vodka into a Pyrex pot. “The alcohol will lower his inhibitions and open him up to the possibilities inherent in the potion.” She dumped in four tablespoons of the powdered elecampane root then: “Lemon balm to dispel melancholy. Bay leaves to protect the user from witchcraft—used sparingly because of narcotic properties which may, however, also come in handy. Interesting that even the worst stews in the world always have a bay leaf tossed in. Maybe we’re supposed to hallucinate better-tasting food. Catnip used to treat hysteria and boredom.” She tossed a handful on the floor where the black and white cat and the orange and white cat began drooling all over it. “And a little valerian because, well—why not; your herbalists call it heal-all and we can use the insurance.”

Tony leaned toward the pot and then back again, nose wrinkling. “It stinks.”

“It always does.”

“It doesn’t look like wizardry either. It looks like . . .”

“Like something my mother used to do,” Henry finished. “Ignoring the vodka, of course.”

“Oh, don’t ignore the vodka.” Arra tipped the bottle back and took a drink.

“I get the feeling you’re not taking this seriously,” Tony snarled.

She nodded toward Henry. “Ask him if I’m not taking this seriously.”