Boyd sighed. A small sigh – smaller than it ought to have been. What was the point, exactly, of drafting in the services of a telepath if you had to explain – out loud – to her the very details that she was supposed to be picking out of his brain like a psychic finger buffet?

In less pressing circumstances, spending an afternoon meeting minds with an attractive redhead would be rather appealing – but with Captain Myers peering at them both and the an extra-dimensional arsehole barging it's way into the world a matter of miles away, it was hard to relax.

“I used a magic to.. blag my way through customs, so that I could warn your employer about – and generously help them to deal with - the... thing that's going to be punching its way through the basement of a New York apartment block in... nineteen minutes time.”