I lowered my gaze. “Please, you don’t need to do this, Jaz. Or whatever your name is.”

“Jaz.” His fingers slid under my chin, tilting my face up to his. “It’s Jaz.”

I looked into his eyes and, for just a second, that chaos sucked me back in. So pure. So absolute. How had I overlooked that? No, not overlooked. Dismissed. Seen what I’d wanted to see.

“Kidnapping me isn’t—”

“I’m not kidnapping you.” That easy smile. “I’m just taking you along. We have a lot to talk about and this isn’t the place to do it.”

“They won’t care, Jaz. As hostages go, I’m useless. An employee, and an expendable one—”

He tapped his watch. I stopped.

“Sorry,” he said. “I probably should have told him longer, but we’re on a schedule. If I don’t meet it…”

An apologetic shrug, as if the consequences of failing to make that call would be nothing more than mildly inconvenient. I glanced over my shoulder. Karl couldn’t be more than a few yards from Sonny. Maybe he’d spring in time. Even if he didn’t, could Sonny catch him off-guard? Karl already suspected Sonny was no innocent victim. If I—

“Hope.” Jaz’s fingers closed on my arm. “Fifteen seconds.”

I couldn’t risk it. I followed Jaz to the mouth of the alley. He took out a radio and told Sonny to hold off.

“Hold off?” I said. “You promised—”

He lifted his hand. “Sonny’s going to walk away now and head for the street. We have one minute to meet him at the car. If we don’t, he goes back and kills the werewolf.”

Not “takes care of him” or “finishes things.” Kills him. Blunt and unapologetic.

I let him lead me to the car.

LUCAS 19

LUCAS

19

PAIGE HAD JUST STARTED HER CALL when my cousin Javier, VP of technology, came to tell me the Nasts were getting impatient…and the St. Clouds had joined them. I checked my watch. I’d said thirty minutes, and it was going on thirty-five.

I caught enough to know Paige was asking Elena about the time she and other supernaturals had been kidnapped and studied by humans. While the Cabals had claimed no knowledge of the project, the Nasts had business ties with the financier—the late software tycoon Tyrone Winsloe—and none of the captives had been Cabal employees. Suspicious, but unrelated to the concern at hand which, from Paige’s conversation, seemed to involve another captive, a man named Armen Haig who’d died before the escape.

I longed to stay a few minutes longer, but Paige and the council didn’t need me and the Cabal did. A strange twist of priorities. An uncomfortable one.

I interrupted long enough to tell her where I was going, then followed Javier out, making the call to my mother on the way.