Then the soundstage plunged into total darkness.

For a moment, Tony was afraid he’d gone blind. A moment later he realized it was only a tripped breaker and began stumbling back toward the set. Once he cleared the wall—not hard to find after slamming face first into it—the light from Arra’s potion guided him to the two men in the center of the fake hardwood floor.

“Get his shoulders up,” Henry instructed as Tony dropped to his knees. “We’ve got to get this down him.”

Tony slipped an arm behind leather-clad shoulders and lifted. Lee was heavier than he thought he should be, as though some of the shadow lingered, weighing him down. Don’t be such a dumb ass. He’s a big guy, that’s all. He looked like hell, but that was probably the fault of the light source. Tony didn’t need Everett to tell him that green and glowing complimented no one’s complexion. Case in point: pouring the potion down Lee’s throat, Henry looked demonic.

“Did it work? Did it destroy the shadow?”

“I don’t know.” Continuing to pour, the vampire managed a shallow shrug. “I wasn’t looking into the light.”

“Oh. Right.”

“It was a good idea, though, something Vicki might have tried.”

“Yeah?” Tony felt his ears grow hot and shifted his grip on Lee’s shoulders to hide his pleasure. From the first time she’d hauled his fourteen-year-old ass in off the streets, Vicki Nelson had been his hero, a cop who honestly wanted to serve and protect, a friend when he needed one, his entry into Henry’s life. He wasn’t sure she knew about that first part, the hero bit. He wasn’t sure he wanted anyone to know.

Lee coughed and tried to shove the jar away, jerking Tony’s wandering attention back to the matter at hand. The jar was about half full. “Does he have to drink it all? I mean, that’s one fuck of a lot of vodka.”

“Arra was nonspecific, but I think we should try to get as much as possible into him.” Henry’s thumb stroked Lee’s throat, coaxing him to swallow. “Good thing he’s semiconscious or we’d have a fight on our hands. Vodka has no real flavor and this sort of herbal mix traditionally tastes as foul as it smells.”

“He’s getting a little more active!” Which was interesting considering the amount of alcohol they were pouring into him. “You don’t think he’s going to hurl, do you?”

“Hurl what?”

“Puke.”

“Let’s hope not.”