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—”