A blade shot through where the demon’s heart used to be, and shadows writhed like snakes from the wound. I cringed away, watching the dagger pull the shadows in and seemingly absorb the demon’s life force. The point stopped just shy of piercing my chest. I held my breath, waiting for Death to defy whoever had stolen its prize and claim me anyway.

I looked up, not into Death’s face, but the demon of war’s.

Wrath yanked the dead behemoth away and tossed its carcass aside. He sheathed his demon-slaying dagger, then knelt down. His expression was as hard as his tone. Which was helpful—I needed something to focus on besides the overwhelming terror coursing through me.

“Lesson number one: when fighting a demon, always have some weapon at the ready. Whether it’s spell chalk or a defensive charm. If you don’t have defensive magic, now’s the time to acquaint yourself with that part of your lineage. Demons are apex predators. They’re faster and stronger than you. Their sole purpose is to kill, and they’re very good at it.”

I leaned against the building, panting, waiting for the trembling to pass. If Wrath hadn’t gotten to me when he did, my family would have buried another child. Well, if there’d been anything left of me to bury. Tears pricked my eyes. I’d been forced into a game I knew nothing about and I was losing. Badly.

“Can you stand?”

I could barely breathe. But that had nothing to do with terror anymore, now I was ready to strike out. And I had my sights set on the demon prince looming above me. I maneuvered into a sitting position, and swatted his proffered hand away.

“What, are you my teacher now?”

“An opportunity to turn this into a teachable exercise arose on its own. Lessons were never part of our bargain, so you’re welcome.”

I stared up at him, speechless at the flash of concern he was too slow to hide. He’d genuinely been worried about me. I was so startled, I forgot to jab him back.

I waited another minute before standing. Wrath’s gaze traveled over me a second time.

I glanced down at gelatinous gray globs that I assumed used to be innards of the demon. Now I smelled like a fetid swamp. Fantastico. I never thought I’d long for the days when stinking of garlic and onion were my biggest worries.

“Do you recognize that symbol?” He nodded toward the door with the pawprint.

“I . . .” I tried wiping demon sludge from my dress. “I need a minute.”

“For what it’s worth, I wouldn’t have let the demon kill you. Maybe a slight nip.”

“Comforting as ever.”