As I pivoted toward the voice, I kept my eyes half closed. Bracing myself? Or denying the obvious as long as I could? Even through half-lidded eyes, though, there was no mistaking who stood before me, though his curls had been cut to just below his ears and his face was devoid of expression in a way I never imagined it could be.

I licked my lips and swallowed hard, trying to conjure up enough moisture to form words.

“Jaz.”

The mask shattered then. He smiled, and it was that same smile I knew, slow and sexy, his eyes lighting up. Jaz.

My chest tightened again and my gaze slid down to his hands. To the gun pointed at me. He pulled it back, as if to hide it.

“Sorry, but I figured you might need a little incentive. And I might need a little protection. You may be tiny, but you’re fast.”

That jaunty tone was so familiar, so Jaz, that my fists clenched and I wanted to fly at him, to pummel him until I couldn’t recognize him. The thought, the hate in it, made my bile rise.

“You’re upset. I get that and I don’t blame you. So here’s what we’re going to do. First, hand me your purse.”

I did.

“Now, empty your pockets.”

As he stepped toward me, my fists flew up, but he caught my arm and yanked me into the shadows.

“Let’s back up,” he said. “You saw Sonny out there, right? He’s not sleeping. He knows exactly where your friend is, courtesy of my play-by-play into his earpiece. Last time I spoke to him, he set his watch for three minutes. If he doesn’t hear back from me by then, he’s putting a bullet through the werewolf. It’s not silver, but I’ve heard that doesn’t matter.”

There was no animosity in his voice. No threat. Just Jaz, chattering away as always. Bile filled my mouth. I forced myself to swallow it.

“What do you want me to do?”

“Let me empty your pockets. Don’t attack me or run. Then we’ll walk that way.” He jerked his chin toward the rear of the gardens.

“And then?”

“You’re coming with me.”

He sounded surprised that I’d needed to ask. As I lifted my hands, he stepped so close I could smell the citrus notes of his aftershave, and feel that low-level thrum of chaos, that aura that always surrounded him, that had drawn me in.

I took a deep breath and let him empty my pockets. When he finished, he paused a mere inch away, and I looked up to see his face over mine. His lips curved in that same almost shy smile that had set my pulse racing. I wanted to spit on him. But if I opened my mouth, I’d probably throw up instead.