Which was too bad, really, because if it had looked different, if physical evidence of either the gate or the Shadowlord had marked the building, he’d be able to take what he knew to the proper authorities. It was the twenty-first century after all; surely someone had plans for dealing with an off-world invasion. Someone, that is, besides people who ran web sites called theyarecoming.com or prob_me.org and who clearly had way too much free time. He made a mental note to scrub that prob_me.org cookie or he’d be getting porn spam for the rest of his life.

Unfortunately, the only evidence he had supporting an invasion was an invisible gate that made his teeth hurt, a wizard who’d deny everything, and an actor who hadn’t remembered being possessed—although one of the tabloids did have a slightly blurry, page 17 shot of him coming out of the main branch of the public library which would certainly strengthen the possession story. Not much in the way of support. Fox Mulder couldn’t have made a case out of it.

The light changed and Tony headed across the street, absently rubbing his right thumb across the nearly healed puncture in his left wrist. Spending two nights in a row at Henry’s condo hadn’t been smart. And that was the problem. He wasn’t smart around Henry, he was . . . dependent. Sure, running to Henry for help the moment things got weird made a kind of sense—friends with specialized knowledge and all that—but allowing it to go further, supporting that whole vampire everyone I make a connection with is mine attitude—his wrist throbbed—what had he been thinking? Other body parts made a couple of suggestions. He ignored them.

There was no chance of leaving Henry out of things now; if the gate reopened, he’d have to be told. But the next time . . .

Oh, yeah, Tony snorted, stepping up on the curb. Because this sort of thing is likely to happen again.

And anyway, since Arra seemed pretty damned sure they wouldn’t survive this time, speculation seemed a bit moot.

Arra.

Tony’d called from Henry’s to fill her in and ended up leaving a message on her machine. He knew she was standing beside the phone, listening, and refusing to become further involved. Too bad. If that gate reopened, he wasn’t going to give her a choice.

He wondered if blackmail would work. You help stop the Shadowlord and I won’t tell everyone what you really are.

Yeah, that’d work. Tony snorted again. If it came down to his word against Arra’s, his story against Arra’s, well, he’d put money on people believing the part that didn’t involve wizards and dark shadow invasions.