"Millions?" The big man snorted. "Their ratings are nowhere near millions, Mr. Foster.

Thousands at best."

"Fine. Thousands. Thousands of shadows taking over people's lives."

"But these shadows won't be able to leave the television."

"Wanna bet? My shadow shouldn't be able to get me in a hammerlock, but it did.

Mason's shouldn't be able to roll around like a whipped puppy, but it is. Shadows shouldn't have been able to kill Nikki Waugh or Alan Wu, but they did!" Suddenly unable to remain still, he paced the width of workshop and back as he talked, CB's head turning to follow his pa.s.sing like he was the ball in a tennis game. Which was pretty much how he felt. "I got a feeling that convincing shadows to leave the box is going to be no big.

Then we've got mi... thousands of shadow-held who'll hunt down Arra for that son of b.i.t.c.h, forcing her to fight them-or save them from doing stupid things like jumping off an overpa.s.s. Draining her power until she can't fight him and ..." Tony ground his palms together.

"Then he goes home and it is over."

Breathing a little heavily, Tony stopped pacing and stared at the older man. "You don't believe that. Powerful men seek power. It's what they do; h.e.l.l, it's what they are. There are places on this world without indoor plumbing that still have a television and he's fascinated by television. He's going to take the television road to power!"

"He is fascinated by television because the shadow he holds of you is fascinated by television."

"Fine. Whatever. My bad." Man, CB was big on placing blame. First Arra, now him. "Point is, he's not just going to go home. Arra isn't going to be the only casualty. And Arra, by the way, works for you and is therefore your responsibility-at least a little," he amended as CB scowled down at him. "And more importantly, you are the only one who can stop Mason."

"I arranged this interview."

Oh, for ... "Un-arrange it! But replace it with something good so Mason doesn't suspect- something ego stroking that'll make them both happy. Because if Mason suspects, then the Shadowlord will suspect and he'll take you out. Right now, he's thinking this world is his oyster-whatever the h.e.l.l sh.e.l.lfish has to do with anything-and we don't want him to un-mellow. He's a lot less dangerous when he thinks he's already won and ..." "You've made your point, Mr. Foster. I understand power politics and I have no desire to compete with those who do ..." The pause dripped with distaste. "... magic. While I am confining Mason to the studio, what will you be doing?"

"Trying to find Arra. She's our only chance of defeating him."

"As I understand it, then, not much of a chance."

"Yeah, well, I'm not so sure. I think there's layers working here and I've almost figured what's . . . d.a.m.n!" Every time he tried to shove the last pieces into place, they slipped shad-owlike from his grasp. "Look, when he got a bit of me, well, I got a bit of him-of the Shadowlord-you know, a bit, and so next to Arra, I know him better than anyone, anyone alive that is. And I know her. And, I'm outside their history, so I've got a whole new perspective on things. I just think he's putting too much effort into finding her if he's that certain she can't hurt him, so I've got to convince her that ..."

"Mr. Foster?"

"Yeah?"

"Perhaps," CB said slowly, weighting each word, "until this is over, you should switch to decaf."

Chapter Seventeen.

IT TOOK him forever to get to downtown Vancouver although Tony had to admit that saving the world by public transportation was a particularly Canadian way to do things.

By the time he reached the Burrard Station, however, he was well into the "screw it, I'm buying a car" mindset. Or a bike. Something like Lee's. Except he hated getting wet and, most years, wet was the defining weather for the lower mainland. So, back to the car.

He didn't care what kind of a car.

He just needed something that wouldn't take so G.o.dd.a.m.ned long to get him anywhere.

Hey! I'm trying to find a wizard and save the world here, so could you get the f.u.c.k OUT OF MY WAY!.

A trio of elderly Asian women shot a variety of worried glances at him and shuffled to one side, clearing his path from the station to the street. He thought about apologizing, had no idea what he'd be apologizing for since he was about ninety percent certain he hadn't actually said anything out loud, and flagged down a cab. To h.e.l.l with the expense-maybe CB would kick in a few bucks.

There was a police car parked in front of Arra's building when he arrived. Tony threw some money at the cabbie and raced across the road, ignoring the horns and shouted curses. Mason drove a Porsche 911, a very fast car that he drove very fast, relying on his minor celebrity to get him out of tickets, and when that didn't work, relying on the studio to pay the fines. If Mason and the Shadowlord had left just after he had, they'd have easily gotten to Arra's before him.

h.e.l.l, if they'd waited half an hour, had lunch, and then drove Zev's aging sedan into the city, they'd have easily gotten to Arra before him.

If I'm alive at this time tomorrow, I'm buying a d.a.m.ned car.

It was good to have goals. It made the possibility of imminent death not so imminent.

Both doors to the lobby were propped open, allowing the police to come and go as they pleased. Tony moved quickly past the elevator to the stairs-in case of trouble, stairs came with a lot more options than a sealed box hanging off cables.No surprise upon emerging on the fourth floor to see a small crowd of murmuring tenants staring at the bright yellow police tape stretched across the front of the wizard's apartment. Staying tight against the wall, he worked his way past the edges of the audience until he could peer through the open door.

Something-someone-had pushed the metal sockets holding the latch and the dead bolt right out of the frame. And done it without putting a mark on the door. f.u.c.king great. Evil wizard with super-strength.

"Can I help you with something?"

Only one profession ever wrapped such a seemingly innocuous question in so much sarcasm. Tony looked up from the damage, got a firm grip on his increasing need for profanity, and asked, "Is there a body?"

On the other side of the tape, the official police glare deepened. "Who wants to know?"

"Tony Foster. I work with the woman who lives here."

"And yet you don't seem to be at work."

No body, then. Cops at a homicide didn't take the time to exchange smart-a.s.s observations with people hanging around the crime scene. Particularly not at a crime scene that involved a metaphysical, inexplicable death. The sudden surge of relief was intense enough to nearly buckle Tony's knees. Which was when he realized two things: One, that there didn't necessarily need to be a body; there had to be a hundred different ways an evil wizard could get rid of a rival that didn't involve an inconvenient corpse. And two, the cop was still waiting for a response. Tony shrugged. "She didn't come in, she didn't call. The boss sent me down to make sure she was all right."

"Uh-huh. Can anyone here vouch for you?"

Anyone here? Tony turned toward the watching/listening crowd of Arra's neighbors and spotted a familiar face. "Julian can."

Julian was ready for his close-up. At the sound of his name he pushed forward, Moira cradled in one arm. "He's been here before, Officer, with Arra Pelindrake. They do, indeed, work together." A dramatic pause. "We have spoken together, he and I."

Oh, yeah. Tony thought as the cop rolled his eyes. I bet that was some Mustardseed.

"I don't know why Arra didn't inform her employer she was going away for a few days,"

Julian continued. "We all knew."

"Well, I don't know why he knew." The new speaker was short and kind of round with her graying blonde hair cut in a bowl shape. "I knew because I was feeding her cats. I'm the one who discovered the break-in." She clutched at Tony's arm with a small plump hand. "I found it this morning when I went in to feed them."

"Are they all right?"

"Oh, yes. They're in my apartment now." The emphasis came with a distinct sneer in Julian's direction.

"Moira is allergic to cats."

Last night. Not the Shadowlord, then. And not Mason-so far being shadow-held hadn't come with super powers, and Mason's muscle was more show than substance. Which left- Henry.

He'd leave the question of why Henry had broken into Arra's apartment for after sunset and only hoped that their earlier visits had left enough fingerprints to screw up any kind of an investigation. Had Arra been here when the vampire arrived? Had Henry locked her away somewhere so she couldn't run? Probably not. If she'd been out and around, free to make up her own mind, there was at least a chance she'd have shown up at the gate this morning-Henry wouldn't take that chance away from him. He'd probably just been looking for her, searching her apartment for some idea of where she'd run off to.

"So you have no idea of where Ms. Pelindrake might be, or how to reach her?"

What? Oh, right, the cop. "Sorry, no." He'd hoped she was home, just hunkered down and not answering the phone. Failing that, he'd wanted to do the same thing Henry had-search the apartment for clues. He'd had no plan for actually getting into the apartment, but it seemed Henry'd taken care of that for him-if the police would just haul a.s.s out of his way.

And right on cue . . .

"Right, we're done." Cop number two appeared behind his partner. "Television's there, TiVo's there, computer's there, seventy bucks in a dish on the coffee table-if it was a burglary, they were after something specific and small."

"No way of knowing until Ms. Pelindrake reappears." Turning his attention back to the crowd, he swept it with a patronizing expression although he'd probably intended said expression to be stern. Not the first cop Tony'd ever met who didn't know the difference.

"The moment any of you hears from her, have her call the station. You all have the number."

Since Tony had no intention of having Arra call the station if found, the fact he didn't have the number was irrelevant. Okay, or not. As he didn't seem to have an option, he took the offered business card and stepped back out of the way as both constables ducked under the tape, pulling the apartment door closed behind them.

"There's a locksmith on the way," Julian informed them. "I'll personally see to it that no one crosses that tape."

"The tape? Right." Cop number two turned and pulled it off the door. "We're done here.

Can't just leave this stuff lying around. People use it for the d.a.m.nedest things."

Cop number one murmured something too low to be overheard and they laughed together in a manly way as they stepped into the elevator. By the time the doors shut behind them, Tony, Julian, Moira, and the woman with Arra's cats were alone in the hall.

Julian's lip curled. "a.s.sholes."

"No argument from me," Tony muttered. f.a.ggot comments had a distinct tone of their own. No need to hear the actual words. And while they were sharing this moment of solidarity . . . "Listen, Julian, there's a chance that Arra may have left something about where she was going in the calendar on her computer. We ought to have a look."

The "we" was almost enough.

"If I don't find her, she could lose her job."

Which was more or less the truth.

"No." The woman with Arra's cats shook her head. "I don't think that's a good idea."

And that settled it.

Julian shifted the Chihuahua to his other arm and pushed the door open. "I'm the president of the co-op board and I think we should do everything we can to help a neighbor keep her job."

"Well, when I was president ..."

"You were the president, Vera. You aren't now."Moira growled an agreement.

Tony ignored all three of them and headed toward the computers, moving slowly enough to give the place a thorough once over. No shadows where they shouldn't be.

No inexplicable stains. The laptop was gone, but the desktop was exactly where he remembered it although he couldn't remember ever having seen one of Arra's computers without a game of spider solitaire running. And, as it turned out, he couldn't get into her doc.u.ments without a pa.s.sword.

"I think the police should be doing this!"

His escort had caught up.

"The police can't crack her computer without a warrant. I know. I was on da Vinci's inquest."

"Years ago and you were a corpse!"

Tony tuned out the argument and typed in "ZazuWhitby."

When it worked, there was a gratifying intake of breath from Julian. "How did you know?"

"Those cats are the only things she cares about." Working the mouse with his right hand, he dragged his phone out of his pocket with his left and thumbed the speed dial.

Still no answer from her cell. Pity. He'd had a sudden idea that involved telling her he was taking both cats to the Shadowlord. That'd get her thumb out of her a.s.s PDQ.

Nothing on her calendar. It didn't look like she ever used her calendar.

She was using 100GB of a 120GB hard drive-although at least 30G of that seemed to be p.o.r.n. Didn't need to know that. It's like finding out your parents had s.e.x. Totally f.u.c.king creepy. Literally.

He double-clicked a bitmap file labeled Gate and an almost familiar pattern of swirls and equations appeared on the screen. It seemed to be the same pattern he'd glimpsed on her computer at the studio. It was definitely not the same pattern written on the blackboards on the other side of the gate, even given that part of it had been covered by ...

"I don't think you should be looking at her private things."

"You're right." He closed it out, grateful to have the memory interrupted. No doubt she had a copy of the gate file on the laptop. Probably why she'd taken the laptop with her.

Her wallpaper was a sunset over water. Yeah, great. Very helpful. As far as Tony was concerned, all water looked the same.

"What are you doing?" Tucked in behind his left shoulder, Julian seemed to require a play-by-play.

"She obviously likes this picture, right?" He clicked through the control panel and into design to get the jpeg's name, then into Arra's photos. "I want to see if it's local."

There were two dozen similar pictures of sunsets in the folder labeled Kitsalano Point.

"Kitsalano Point, it's that part of Kits Beach just west of the Maritime Museum, that part that pokes out into the bay."

Yeah, that would be why they call it a point. Couldn't be Sunset Beach which was maybe six blocks away. It had to be across the f.u.c.king creek. Still, it was a place to start."Are you going to look for her there?"

"Thought I might."

"Do you want a drive?"

Okay that was unexpected. "I thought you had to wait for the locksmith. President and everything ..."

Julian dropped his attention to the dog. "Right."

"Look, if you boys want to go off together, I'll stay and wait for the locksmith."