pointing that out? I knew I was useless in a fight.
Either he saw the anger on my face or heard it in my thoughts, but his hand tightened over my mouth, his warm fingers pressing into my cheeks. It didn’t hurt, his touch firm but careful. I grabbed his wrist and tried to pry his hand off anyway.
“Against many enemies, I cannot be beside you every moment. You will be in danger.”
My defensive anger faltered. What are you saying?
He lifted his hand from my face, my fingers wrapped around his wrist. “You must learn differently before we hunt the vampires.”
“Learn differently? I don’t understand.”
He stared down at me, silence stretching through the room—then he heaved a long-suffering sigh. “I will teach you.”
My hand reflexively squeezed his wrist. He was going to teach me, the stupid human, something from that mysterious demonic brain of his?
I angled my head, face scrunched with suspicion. “Teach me what, exactly?”
His weight pressed into my hips and then his face was inches from mine. His glowing eyes filled my vision, blocking out everything else.
“I will teach you how to be drādah ahktallis.”
My breath locked inside my chest as I pressed back into my pillow. “How to be what?”
He laughed, the sound low and husky. “Smart prey.”
Once Zylas got an idea into his demony head, he wouldn’t let it go. Nothing short of the apocalypse would distract him.
Which explained why I was currently walking along a gravel path as rain poured down on my umbrella, the icy December wind stinging my cheeks. Bare-limbed maple and alder trees, mixed with dense stands of towering fir and spruce, bordered the path. The weak morning sun offered no warmth.
Zylas had bossily insisted on “wilderness” where we wouldn’t be disturbed, and Stanley Park was the only stretch of greenery in the downtown area large enough to hide a demon from any passersby. Not that I expected anyone to be out in this weather. Even the most dedicated, hardcore fitness junkies had stayed inside today.
Half a mile from the parking lot where the cab had dropped me off, I left the path and wandered into the woods. Long grass and ferns swished against my legs, leaving wet streaks across my jeans. I stepped over a moss-coated log, my lower lip caught between my teeth. This was a bad idea, but changing Zylas’s mind wasn’t happening.
I meandered until I found a decent-sized clearing surrounded by thick Douglas fir trees, their trunks shooting thirty or forty yards into the stormy sky before sprouting dense branches of green needles. Umbrella balanced over my head, I tugged the infernus out of my jacket.
“Okay, Zylas.”
Light flared over the silver pendant, then spilled onto the forest floor. Zylas materialized beside me and peered up at the treetops high above. A long moment passed as he surveyed his surroundings.
“So, um.” I cleared my throat. “We’re here.”
He crouched and prodded the wet moss.
“Are you going to teach me how to defend myself?”
“No.” He rose to his full height. “Prey does not defend against the hunter.”
I pursed my lips. “How is learning to be ‘smart prey’ helpful? I don’t want to be hunted. I want to—”
“What prey wants to be hunted?” he interrupted. “The prey does not get to choose.”
“But—”
His hand closed around the front of my jacket and he lifted me onto my toes. My umbrella tumbled from my grasp as I clutched his wrist.
“You are small and weak, drādah,” he informed me, lifting me a little higher to prove how helpless I was. “Hunters will come for you, and you cannot fight them. You must learn how not to die.”
He opened his fingers and dropped me back onto my feet.
Huffing a breath, I stepped out of his easy reach. “How do I not die, then?”
“By being smart prey.” He circled me, and I stiffened as he disappeared behind my back. “You react to fear in the wrong ways. You make it easy for the hunter.”
As he reappeared, I gave him my meanest glare. “I’m not—”
He lunged at me. I gasped and lurched back. My heel caught on a tree root and I landed on my butt, the impact jarring my teeth. Then Zylas was on top of me, a knee on either side of my hips, his claws resting on my throat.
“And now you are dead.” He tapped a finger against the racing pulse in my neck. “See? This is what I am telling you, drādah.”
“You scared me,” I protested breathlessly, resisting the urge to shove at him. “I