He’d reacted as much for his own benefit as Lee’s; he didn’t think he could bear hearing that particular sound again. A line of cold air brushed feather light against his cheek, and he turned his head in time to see a shadow pour off his shoulder. And another slide across the floor.

When Lee screamed again, Tony turned back toward him so quickly he courted whiplash, saw a tendril of shadow pool in the hollow of the actor’s throat, saw it dribble down to join the shadow cast by solid flesh, saw it separate and disappear behind the camera mount.

“What the hell is going on?”

“Shadows.”

Arra’s whisper pulled Tony’s gaze past Peter to where the wizard stood, visibly trembling.

“Shadows?” The director looked as well, and when no answer was forthcoming, directed his next question out at the floor. “What the hell does that mean?”

Multiple shoulders lifted and fell.

No one else had seen them. Or, possibly, no one else was willing to admit that such a thing could exist. It was a defense mechanism Tony’d seen a hundred times. Henry and his kind survived because of it. And Henry’d made it pretty much impossible for him to use it.

He pulled a word from the air. “Seizure?”

Someone dropped down at Lee’s other side. A hand moved his arm away gently and placed a pad of fabric between concrete and skull. Tony looked up to see Laura on her knees, her sweater off and her fingers against the pulse point in Lee’s throat.

“I don’t know about a seizure,” she said briskly, “but his heart’s racing, his temperature is up, and there’s a certain rigidity in his muscles that I don’t like.” The silence that followed held so many questions, she looked up and frowned. “I’ve been a nurse for twenty years. You can’t honestly think I can make a living doing the occasional character role on Canadian television?”

The murmur of agreement from cast and crew held distinct overtones of relief; someone knew what they were doing.

“We’re heavily syndicated in the American market,” Peter muttered under his breath.

“Not my point.” Laura sat back on her sensible heels as Lee opened his eyes.

The clear jade green looked murky. Flawed. Or I could be overreacting just a bit, Tony admitted, his own heart working in quick time.

“Lee, are you back with us? How are you feeling?”

His eyes locked on Laura’s face with a desperate need to know. “Is it over?”

“It seems to be.”

Question and answer held no subject in common, but Tony was just as glad he hadn’t had to answer the question actually asked. No. It wasn’t over. Including the original shadow that had set Lee off, he’d counted four, but with his focus so narrowed, he couldn’t swear there hadn’t been a dozen more.