"Try not to look like a cop," I told Jenna. She shook her shoulders and tried again. "Or a bodyguard." She winced sheepishly. "I can't help it." "Try looking scared to death like Tyson instead," I suggested. Tyson just swallowed, his Adan's apple bobbing frantically. I patted his shoulder. "You'd rather come face to fang with a , wouldn't you?" "Hell, yeah. Way less scary than girls," he muttered."