“Then be quiet, I’m concentrating.” Cupping the jam jar in both hands, she took a deep breath and, exhaling, sang a string of words that seemed to be made up mostly of vowels held together with a couple of els. Henry stepped back. The cats roused themselves from their catnip stupor and raced for the bedroom. The liquid began to glow. Placing the jar carefully on the counter, she took her hands away. Multiple lines of tiny lights swirled through the potion.

Okay, that looked like wizardry.

From the glance she shot him, Tony was momentarily afraid he’d actually spoken.

“You’d better hurry if you want to get to the soundstage on time,” she said, moving over to the sink and running cold water over her hands. “Get that down him before the last light goes out and he should be fine.”

“Should?”

“You won’t know until you try. He might be fine without it. He might not be fine with it.”

“Oh, that’s helpful.”

“Maybe. Maybe not. You have my number; you can let me know how it turns out.”

“I thought you were coming with us.”

“No. I made the potion. I’m done.”

Catching sight of Henry’s expression, Tony remembered that the vampire almost always had his own agenda. “The shadow within Lee Nicholas cannot be allowed to take the information it carries back to its master.”

“What kind of information is an actor going to pick up?” Arra snorted, drying her hands on a blue-checked dishcloth. “Apple martinis are in. Nicotine is a memory aid, not a poison that’ll take years off your life. And if you can’t manage a vacant expression 24/7, botox will take care of those embarrassing facial lines.”

As much as Tony hated to admit it, at least where Lee was concerned . . . “She’s got a point, Henry. You don’t have to come either,” he added as Henry’s attention switched over to him. “I appreciate your help, I really do, but you’ve got me what I need; I’ll take care of Lee, then meet you at the condo.”

“The condo?”

“Yeah, you know. I don’t want you to think I’ve forgotten about . . . uh . . .” He tapped the inside of his left wrist with the first two fingers of his right hand.

Arra rolled her eyes. “He . . .” She nodded toward Tony. “. . . hasn’t forgotten the offer he made you . . .” An identical nod in Henry’s direction. “. . . earlier. You feed. He bleeds. As long as I’m not on the menu, feel free to discuss it. I’m not squeamish.”