At his instruction, I laid dauda-dagr on the muslin and traced a pattern. It actually wasn’t that dissimilar from helping my mom with her seamstress work. Once we had a workable pattern, Cody transferred it to a piece of soft deerskin and set about cutting and stitching with practiced expertise.

“This won’t last long,” he said, poking one big-ass curved needle through the leather. “The hide’s too soft. But it will do for now, and I’ll use the pattern to make something better with a heavyweight hide.”

I watched his strong, capable hands at work. “Are you going to make me a belt to go with it?”

“Sure, if you like.” Cody grinned at me. “I could even make you a bag with a built-in sheath for everyday wear.”

“Really?”

“I do custom work on commission.” He handed me the deerskin sheath. “See how that fits.”

I slid dauda-dagr into it. “Perfect.”

“Excellent.” He beckoned again. “Now let’s go out back and play.”

In the grassy clearing between the house and the woods, Cody proceeded to instruct me in the finer points of knife fighting, of which there were surprisingly few.

“First and foremost, if you think you’re going to need to use it, draw it before you know you do,” he said. “Because if you get attacked, you won’t have time to draw it.”

“Did they teach you that at the police academy?” I asked him.

“No.” He adjusted my stance. “Knife-hand foot forward, rear foot at a forty-five-degree angle. Left hand up to shield your chest. With your right hand, hold the dagger like you’d hold a hammer.”

I obeyed. “Where, then?”

“When Caleb and I were kids, there was a guy in the neighborhood who was an ex-marine.” Cody circled me in a predatory manner, setting my tail to twitching in an involuntary reflex. “We used to bug him to teach us stuff.”

I peered over my shoulder at him. “I would have thought you and your brother had your own . . . defenses.”

“Not as kids,” Cody said. “That came later.” Coming around in front of me, he showed his teeth in another cheerful grin. “The second-most-important thing? Get them before they get you.”

If he hadn’t warned me, I wouldn’t have known it was coming, but he did, which was why when Cody charged me, I was able to turn to one side, hook his leg, and execute a perfect takedown, following him to the grassy ground and placing the sheathed edge of dauda-dagr against his throat.

“Duly noted,” I said sweetly. “So what’s the third-most-important thing?”

Cody’s taut, hard-muscled chest heaved beneath mine as he drew an indignant breath, which I must admit felt pretty good. His face conveyed a mixture of dismay and amusement. “You said you didn’t know anything about fighting!”