Slaying Monsters for the Feeble: The Guild Codex: Demonized / Two

by Marie, Annette

  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.

  Chapter Ten

  I glared through the apartment lobby’s door, the glass reinforced with security bars. This morning’s downpour had let up a few hours ago and the pavement shone wetly.

  Despite having an entire afternoon to cool off, I was still furious with Zylas for deliberately ambushing me so I’d fall into a mud-filled gully. He was angry too. During our shouting match—which had resumed the moment I’d gotten home and he could leave the infernus again—he’d declared I was too “zh’ūltis” to learn anything and he’d completely wasted his time.

  Needless to say, I hadn’t taken that well.

  Headlights blazed through the door and a boxy van pulled up outside the apartment. Someone in the passenger seat waved at me.

  I stepped out into the cold wind. The van’s side door slid open, the interior light illuminating the mythics sitting on the bench seats. I climbed inside, surprised to find Zora on the middle bench, patting the empty seat beside her, instead of driving.

  “Ready for this?” she asked as I fumbled for the seatbelt.

  Her previous partner, the telekinetic Drew, rolled the door shut and settled back into his seat on the rear bench. The van rumbled into motion.

  “I think so,” I answered, hoping I didn’t sound terrified. “What’s the plan, exactly?”

  “First, let’s make sure we all know names here.” Zora gestured to the backseat. “You met Drew already. This is Laetitia, a hydromage.”

  The tall woman smiled, teeth flashing against her dark complexion, her thin braids pulled into a high ponytail.

  “And at the front are Darren and Cameron, offensive sorcerer and defensive apprentice sorcerer, respectively.”

  Darren? My heart sank at the sight of the hulking bully from a few days ago—the one Zylas had slammed down on the guild’s bar—in the driver’s seat. In the passenger seat, his rangy buddy gave me a friendly-ish smile.

  “I’m partnering with Robin,” Zora announced to the group. “Laetitia and Drew, and Darren and Cameron will make up the other pairs. Partners are responsible for each other, but we’ll all be sticking close together anyway.”

  She leaned forward, elbows braced on her knees as Darren navigated the dark streets. “Now, this is a scouting mission. We’re here to confirm a vampire nest and where it is, not to engage or attempt an extermination.”

  “Not even a little bit of exterminating?” Cameron asked plaintively.

  “Not even a little. We’ll save the fun for the next round, which will be during the day.”

  “Um,” I began uncertainly. “Can I ask … why are we doing this at night?”

  “It’s easier to find vampires while they’re active,” Zora explained. “Keep in mind, guys, that we’ve seen increased vampiric activity over the last four weeks, so we’re using extra caution. No messing around, Darren and Cameron.”

  The van rolled to a stop and Darren shifted into park. We exited the vehicle into an unremarkable back alley, the narrow stretch of pavement surrounded by skyscrapers. We were in the heart of downtown.

  As the others followed Zora to the van’s rear, I eyed their dark leather clothing, assorted weapons, and magical artifacts. In comparison, I felt ridiculously out of place in my regular winter coat, blue jeans, and sneakers.

  Zora opened the van’s rear doors and handed out armfuls of shiny fabric. She tossed me a bundle. “Smallest size we have.”

  I unfolded it, my innards tightening with apprehension. The waterproof overalls were smudged with dirt and the legs ended in attached rubber boots. The rest of the team were stepping into theirs, so I gulped down my pounding heart and donned my pair. My shoes fit inside the rubber boots with room left over, and even tightening the straps as short as possible, the overalls sagged down to my waist.

  Zora helped me crisscross the straps to use up a bit more length, then passed out yellow hard hats with built-in lights. When I set mine on my head, it rocked around loosely and I nervously tightened the chin strap.

  Pulling a rectangular device out of the van, Zora switched it on. The front lit up with a loud beep. “Who wants to carry the gas meter?”

  “I’ll do it,” Cameron volunteered. He clipped it onto the shoulder of his overalls.

  “Gas meter?” I whispered fearfully, but no one heard me.

  Zora passed a pair of metal hooks to Darren. I watched in confusion as he stepped over to a weathered grate embedded in the center of the alley and used the hooks to heave it up. He dragged it aside, then tossed the hooks back to Zora. She returned them to the van and started to shut the doors.

  “Wait.” She reached inside again. “Almost forgot. Phone, keys, and wallets over here, guys.”

  As she held out a plastic tote, everyone dug their valuables out of their pockets and set them in the plastic bin. With no choice, I added mine to the collection, wondering what madness I’d volunteered for.

  As Zora put the tote in the van and locked the vehicle, Cameron descended feet first into the black hole. Rushing water echoed beneath the pavement. Darren started after him, his shoulders almost too wide to fit.

  “We …” I cleared my throat. “We’re going into a sewer?”

  “It’s a storm drain,” Zora corrected. “It won’t smell great, but there’s no raw waste down there, just rainwater.” She glanced at my face, and I imagined I was paler than usual. “Um. I should’ve asked—you’re not claustrophobic, are you?”

  Not normally, but I was seriously reconsidering my stance on confined spaces.

  “We’ll be following large tunnels,” she assured me. “It’s dark and wet, but it’ll be fine, you’ll see.”

  “There are vampires down there?”

  “We’ll find out. I once helpe
d exterminate a nest of thirteen in these tunnels. Biggest one I’ve ever seen.”

  As Laetitia followed Drew into the hole, I struggled to calm down. I could do this. We were scouting. Just scouting. We wouldn’t be fighting any vampires down in the wet darkness.

  Zora nudged me forward. My heels dug in, my gaze darting from the hole to the grate and back.

  “What if someone puts that cover back on?” My voice sharpened in a panicky way. “Will we be trapped?”

  “We can push the grate off from the inside, and there’s an exit like this every block. Trust me, Robin. I’ve been down here dozens of times.” She peered into my face and her expression softened with sympathy. “You don’t have to come. The tunnels aren’t for everyone.”

  Crap. I was ruining my reputation as a badass, demon-slaying, vampire-exterminating contractor.

  I forced myself to laugh. “No, I’m good. I just wasn’t expecting this, that’s all.”

  “If you’d rather—”

  “I’m fine,” I said brightly, striding toward the square hole. I groped at the light on my hard hat and clicked it on, shining its beam into the narrow chute. Steel rungs stuck out of the concrete, leading downward, and a steady trickle of water spilled off the asphalt and splashed into the drainage system below.

  I crouched at the hole’s edge, turned, and felt for the first rung with my oversized rubber boot. The chute’s sides scraped at my elbows as I fumbled my way down the ladder. The cramped confines opened into a wider tunnel, and I felt around with my foot, searching for the next rung.

  “You’re on the last step.” Drew appeared beside me, his headlamp glaring. “Here.”

  The telekinetic lifted me down the final four feet. My boots splashed into knee-deep water. It rushed past, pressing coldly against my waterproof overalls. The air was disgustingly humid and reeked of rot. Zora’s boots appeared on the ladder rungs above my head and I waded out of the way.

  The team stood a few yards down, waiting calmly. The tunnel was six feet high and almost as wide, and only Darren and Cameron had to duck their heads.

  “Okay!” Zora called above the black water’s deafening echo. “We’re heading northwest from here. Blood trackers out!”