“I always want you, no matter what you are,” I said earnestly, and his answering smile filled my chest with a sweet, sweeping motion. “But I do kind of miss that little, fuzzy ball of—”

Zayne reclaimed the distance between us, and in one stuttered heartbeat, his lips met mine. He kissed me, and it never ceased to amaze me, the riot of sensations that one single touch could drum up. The taste of him on my lips, on my tongue, was a balm for all the rough, ragged patches scarring my soul, and an awakening. The press of his mouth to mine was gentle, but there was an edge to it, a restraint that was so close to breaking. I knew he was trying to be careful even though he hadn’t thought to be that way in the pool, but that hadn’t been just him. This was only Zayne. I didn’t want him to be restrained. I wanted him, all he had to offer—

Zayne pulled back suddenly, stiffening at the same second an explosion of tingles erupted along the nape of my neck. I stared at him, still a little dazed from his kiss. “You...you feel it, don’t you?”

His gaze moved beyond me. “A demon is near.”

I opened my mouth, and out of all the stuff I could’ve said, the stupidest thing spilled out of my mouth. “Demons don’t come to the park because of the zoo. Roth said so.”

“Roth doesn’t know everything.” Zayne rose swiftly, bringing me with him. He gently sat me on my feet behind him. I blinked, wondering how he’d managed that maneuver and sort of jealous that he’d been able to when he said, “Stay put.”

I turned around. “But—”

“You’re hurt. I’m not.”

“I’m not hurt. I’m the Trueborn—oh God,” I groaned, nose scrunching as the scent of sulfur and decay reached us.

“The smell,” Zayne confirmed.

I squinted as a dark shape appeared from out of the tree line across from the path. Whatever it was, the thing was at least seven feet tall, and smelled like the bowels of Hell on a bad day. Grace sparked inside me. The only demons I knew who were that tall and smelled that bad were the kind not allowed topside for obvious reasons. I really hoped it wasn’t another Ghoul.

The thing crossed under the lamppost, and I sighed, recognizing its moonstone-colored skin.

Nightcrawler.

Which was worse than a Ghoul.

That was the kind of demon one didn’t want to tangle with. They were extraordinarily strong and they carried a toxic venom in their mouth and claws that could render a person paralyzed, but this one was...chained? The metal circled its neck and clanged against the ground, and at the end of the chain...