Chapter 9

"There's a good kitty," I cooed. "This is a yummy treat."

The black kitten cautiously stretched her neck out, whiskers twitching as she sniffed intently. She inched toward the morsel of deli chicken I held between the bars and her pink tongue poked out, licking it.

"Good girl, Socks."

She licked more enthusiastically, then pulled the chicken from my fingers and gobbled it down. Smiling, I ripped off another strip and stuck it through the bars. Bite by bite, I coaxed her to eat the entire slice. I breathed a happy sigh as she licked her chops and looked up with eager green eyes.

"That's all for now," I told her. "You don't want a tummy ache."

Her stare grew reproachful, and she mewed sadly as I swung a light blanket over the crate, enclosing her for the night. Between the vampire attack and my meeting with Zora, I hadn't had a chance to take her to the shelter. I'd do it first thing tomorrow.

Stifling a yawn, I tugged my tank top down, cotton shorts hugging my hips. The mattress creaked as I crawled into the middle, flipped the blankets over myself, and leaned back into my pillow.

My bedroom door opened. Crimson eyes glowed in the darkness as Zylas crossed to my bed and stopped beside it, towering over me.

He'd been quiet this evening. No bullying Amalia, tormenting Socks, or antagonizing me. I wasn't sure what to make of his mood, but I was too tired to worry about it.

"Going out tonight?" I asked drowsily.

"Var."

We'd arranged this compromise only a couple of weeks ago. Prior to being summoned to Earth and imprisoned in a ten-foot circle, Zylas had enjoyed a life of comparative freedom. Spending every day trapped inside an apartment or contained inside the infernus had been driving him mad—and he, in turn, had been driving me and Amalia mad.

After a full day of debate, we'd decided he would remain with me at all times, either in the apartment if I was home or in the infernus if I wasn't home, except when I slept. At night, he could explore the neighborhood—on the condition that he was never seen, entered no buildings, and interacted with no one.

Letting a demon loose in the city caused me daily indigestion, but I wasn't that worried about what he got up to on his own. He understood the consequences of causing trouble.

"Zora texted me," I murmured, eyes drifting closed. "She's organizing a vampire hunt for tomorrow evening."

"These vampires, don't they prefer night?"

"Yeah, but she's the expert. I'm sure she has a reason." I forced my tired eyes open. "Should we back out?"

His face was a shadow in the darkness, his silhouette broken only by his softly glowing eyes.

"I'm worried," I confessed. "The vampires this morning gave you a lot of trouble. If we hunt them at night, when they're even stronger, and you can't use magic…"

The mattress dipped as he sat on it. "I am not helpless like you, drādah. I know how they fight now."

"Dray-da? What does that mean?"

The faint light from my window caught on his teeth as he smirked. Damn it. He wasn't going to tell me. I scowled at him.

He thumped a hand against my thigh under the blanket, making me jump. "You are weak."

My scowl deepened and I rolled onto my side, putting my back to the demon.

"You are slow and easy to scare. When you see hunters, you scream and fall down."

"Yes, thank you," I ground out through clenched teeth, burrowing my head into my pillow. "And I'm helpless and stupid, too. You don't need to keep reminding me."

The mattress bounced as he shifted his weight. I expected him to get up and head for my window, but the bed dipped again. Glowing eyes appeared as he leaned over me, his face six inches from mine.

"Zylas!" I exclaimed, lurching onto my back. "Would you—"

I broke off. By rolling onto my back, I'd put myself directly under him as he braced himself on one elbow.

"You are bad prey," he said decisively, his quiet voice too close for comfort.

"Can you lay off the insults for two minutes?"

He leaned down even more, his warm breath tickling my cheek. "Listen, drādah. I am telling you an important thing."

"Get off my bed."

A moment of silence—then he pushed up. Instead of sliding off the bed, he swung a leg over me and sat on my hips, pinning me with only the blanket between our bodies. My eyes bulged.

"Zylas, get off—"

His hand closed over my mouth. I went rigid, adrenaline stinging my nerves. Trapped under his weight, desperately aware of his strength, I sucked in air through my nose.

Don't make me use the infernus command, I warned.

"You are not listening, drādah."

I made an angry noise against his hand. This is not making me want to listen!

"You must listen anyway."

Hesitating in the midst of wrenching my arms free from the blankets, I peered up at his shadowed face, wishing I could see his expression. He sounded… unusually serious.

"When you are scared, you scream and fall. I watched you. You do not evade your hunter. You do all the wrong things."

My temper flared again. Why did he keep 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 didn't mean to fall."

"That is why you must learn a different way."

As swiftly as he'd pounced, he was on his feet again. He held out his hand.

I blinked, scarcely believing the offer. Half expecting a trick, I placed my hand in his. He pulled me onto my feet with easy strength. I blinked again.

Pushing his hair, already drenched from the cold downpour, away from his eyes, he studied me. "Do not go backward. That is why you fall so much. You cannot see where to step. Go sideways. Keep your sight on the hunter. If you turn your back, you will die."

"Sideways," I repeated dubiously.

"Sideways." He gestured at himself. "I will show you. Attack me."

My cheeks flushed. "How…"

"Do not think, just attack."

I swallowed my embarrassment, then took a half-hearted step toward him.

"Gh'vrish?" he complained in the exact same tone I would've said, "Seriously?" He snapped his tail. "Try harder,drādah."

He was teaching me something he thought would improve my chances of survival. He was trying to help, and the least I could do was give it my best effort.

I coiled my body, then jumped at him like I was going to tackle him to the ground. He stepped backward and I jumped forward again. He kept stepping backward and I kept going for him.

His heel snagged on the uneven ground. He stumbled, tail snapping, and I crashed into his chest and bounced off. He caught my elbows, pulling me upright.

"You see, drādah?"

I nodded, a bit breathless. "I could just keep charging you. It made it easy to keep attacking."

He pushed me two steps back. "Now attack again."

I sprang. He stepped sideways and I flew past him, sliding on the wet moss. When I whirled around, he was four steps away and still moving in a steady sidestep that allowed him to retreat while watching me and his trajectory at the same time.

"Oh," I muttered.

His lips curved in a pleased smile. "You understand, na?"

"Yes." I definitely understood that stumbling backward and falling was the most useless reaction to an attack I could possibly have. It was so obvious that I didn't understand why I hadn't figured it out myself.

"Now you will practice."

"Wait." My eyes widened in alarm. "I'm not ready. What—"

He flashed toward me. I lurched backward—and, of course, tripped and fell. I winced as I hit the ground. Peeking up, I expected him to be scowling angrily.

He was holding his hand out again. Confused, I let him pull me up.

"Try again," he said.

I braced myself, chanting "step sideways" over and over in my head. He backed up two steps, then vaulted at me. As before, my body automatically lurched in the opposite direction of the incoming attack. I stumbled back while also trying to step sideways. Instead of falling, I just didn't move and he bowled me over.

As I pitched backward, he scooped me out of the air and set me on my feet.

Embarrassed by my failure, I raked my wet hair off my face. "Again."

He waited a moment, then charged. I darted sideways and he flashed past. Tail swinging out, he pivoted on one foot and leaped at me again—and I backpedaled in a panic, tripped on the rough terrain, and slammed down on my butt.

"Argh!" I burst out. "Why can't I do this? It's simple. It should be easy!"

"Your instincts tell you to go backward." He crouched beside me. "That is hard to change."

An odd flutter of confusion disturbed my center. I wouldn't call his tone kind, but it wasn't angry, impatient, or insulting.

"Hh'ainun instincts are stupid," he added. "It is why you are all so easy to kill."

Ah, there was the insult. Somehow, I felt better. Zylas being patient and considerate was just weird.

We reset our positions, and Zylas mock-charged me again and again while I struggled to override my panicked instinct to retreat backward. It was a slow process. I managed to dart sideways half the time, but as soon as he changed direction and sprang again, my instinctive backpedal took over.

After thirty minutes, I was panting for air and aching all over from falling down so many times. Instead of taking his "pounce" stance, Zylas assessed my fatigued state. He, of course, showed zero signs of weariness.

"You must practice when you cannot see the hunter coming," he decided.

I warily raised my head.

"You will walk in the trees, and I will hunt you."

Apprehension zinged through me. "That doesn't seem like a good idea."

"Na? Why not?"

I opened my mouth, but admitting his proposal sounded terrifying wouldn't get me anywhere. "I'm tired."

"So weak, drādah." He pointed. "Walk."

Scowling, I stomped into the trees. I managed five steps before peeking over my shoulder. The clearing was empty. Zylas had already vanished into the rainy gloom.

Pulling my jacket collar tighter around my neck, I walked faster. My heart pounded and the back of my neck prickled. I shivered from cold, and a fresh rush of adrenaline couldn't quite compensate for my tired muscles. The patter of rain and whoosh of the wintry wind covered all other sounds.

Somewhere nearby, a demon was stalking me.

I scanned the trees, stopping every few steps to check for any sign of him. My nerves wound tighter, jitters quivering through my fingers. He was watching me. I could feel it. I hastened past a tightly packed stand of fir trees, angling away from a short but steep drop into a water-logged gully. Puffing out a shaky breath, I reached up to unstick my wet bangs from my face.

A flash plunged down from a nearby tree. Zylas hit the ground and pounced, claws unsheathing. A scream burst from my throat as I sprang backward in unthinking panic. I stumbled but he was still coming and I stepped back again.

The ground wasn't there.

I pitched over with another shriek. As Zylas came to a stop, I splatted on my back and slid down the wet side of the gully. I squelched all the way to the bottom, my mouth open in horror.

Zylas stood at the top, gazing down at me without expression.

My shoulders made a sucking noise as I sat up. I lifted my hand out of the soupy brown muck and stared in revulsion. Rain pattered on my head.

I looked up at the demon. "Why didn't you catch me?"

He could have. I had no doubt about that.

His tail lashed. "You should have gone sideways."

"You—" Fury boiled through me. "Did you make me fall down here on purpose?"

Another snap of his tail. "Next time, go sideways."

My teeth crunched together. I fought the outrage burning through my innards, but it burst free. I shoved myself up, my entire back coated in reeking mud, and shouted every insult I knew.

And that's how my first lesson in being "smart prey" ended.