What would Zayne do if I turned in his embrace, stretched up and wrapped my arms around his neck? Would he resist me? Or would he meet me halfway? Lower his mouth to mine and kiss me, no matter that it was forbidden? Right here, right now, with a dying Raver a few feet from us, while we stood in a stinky alley surrounded by piles of garbage.

Super romantic.

But a tremor still curled its way down my spine, causing my breath to hitch. I was hot. So incredibly hot, and suddenly the world around us didn’t matter. Nothing mattered beyond the heat and the pounding of my heart.

Zayne’s arm tightened around my waist, drawing me impossibly close, until there was no space between us. I felt him move behind me, the soft edges of his hair tickling the side of my neck, and then the impossible featherlight graze of his lips just below my ear. Every muscle in my body tightened almost painfully in want.

It was the wake-up call I needed for a multitude of reasons. If this consuming, unspent desire really was coming from him, it was just a by-product of mutual attraction. Obviously, that existed between us, but it wasn’t—it couldn’t—be anything more than skin-deep.

It took more than a moment to calm that stupid organ of mine, to pump the brakes on this train wreck of desires...but I did it.

I did it.

I opened my eyes and tapped on his arm. “Are you going to put me down or do you plan on carrying me around the rest of the night like an overstuffed handbag?”

“Do you promise to not start beating the Raver again?” He cleared his throat, and when he spoke again, the thickness was absent. “Because you haven’t agreed.”

I rolled my eyes. “Just to make sure we’re on the same page—you’re saying I’m not supposed to be chasing after puppy-eating demons?”

“You can chase them, as long as you promise to kill them the moment you catch them.”

“I honestly don’t know what the big deal is.”

“Seriously?” He dipped his head again, and this time, those soft strands of hair glided over my cheek. “What you were doing was a little aggressive.”

“Hunting demons requires aggression.”

“Not like that. Not that kind of violence.”

Zayne was being logical, and that was annoying. “Put me down.”

His sigh rattled through me once again. “Stay put.”

My head whipped in his direction as my brows lifted, but before I could address the whole stay put thing, he deposited me ever so gently on my feet.

Zayne slid his arm away from my waist, leaving a series of shivers in its wake. I jolted as I felt the barest brush of his palm along my hip.

He lifted his hand, revealing he’d snatched one of my daggers.

Sneaky Warden.