Slayer (Slayer 1)

Everyone was dead.

The demon settled over the magical boundary. The scent of burning flesh made my stomach turn, my throat feel ragged. The demon didn’t pause. Pustules along its underbelly burst, coating the barrier in steaming, sizzling orange putrescence. Tentacles encompassed the entire shining dome. The demon was as big as the castle itself.

Ruth Zabuto’s voice was trembling. Imogen ran back into the castle, presumably to find and protect the Littles. My mother burst out, but she didn’t come to us. She stayed at Ruth’s side, adding her fierce voice to the older woman’s. I wanted her with me, but, as always, she chose to protect someone else.

I looked over at Artemis. She looked at me. This time our mother was choosing the Watchers over both of us.

“I’m getting Nina out!” Artemis grabbed my arm, hauling me to my feet. My heart pounded so hard in my chest that it hurt. My vision was narrowing, the world blurring around me.

“Help them,” I said, barely able to push out the words. Something was wrong with my body. Every nerve was on fire, everything exploding.

“The barrier won’t last much longer. We need to run while it’s distracted.” She dragged me toward the forest, where a stone archway was unaffected by the magical barrier. It was the only way out. As we passed through, I glanced behind us.

The last Zabutos. The last Smythes. The last of all of us. My mother turned toward us, the same expression on her face I had seen once before when she chose to save Artemis and leave me behind. Now Artemis had chosen to save me, and we had left my mother behind. My mother lifted a hand in farewell.

But the Littles were still in the castle.

I stopped, Artemis stumbling with the loss of momentum. “Nina, we have to go!” She took a few steps, waiting for me to follow.

I tried to squeeze out the words to tell her I couldn’t leave them behind. And then I looked up and saw a single tentacle, gray and green with fangs instead of suction cups, swinging through the air. Right toward my sister.

The world narrowed to a single point: Artemis. I threw myself at her, and as we collided, three things happened at once.

The magical barrier disappeared as though it had never existed.

A pulse of energy like I had stuck my finger in a socket hit me so hard I flew off Artemis and rolled into the trees.

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And the demon exploded.

Later we’d learn that the demon exploded when Buffy destroyed the Seed of Wonder and cut off magic and our connections to other dimensions. But that day all we knew was we were going to die, and then we weren’t.

And I was absolutely drenched in interdimensional demon goo.

• • •

“So you’re saying,” Artemis says, “that you felt changed at the precise moment the Seed of Wonder was destroyed? The last possible second before magic left the world forever?”

I pick up one of her boots and fiddle with the laces. “Yeah.”

“This happened months ago, Nina. Why didn’t you tell me?” Castle Artemis is back—the softness is gone, and there’s a chiding edge to her tone and expression. I half expect her to pull out an “Is Nina a Demon?” checklist.

“I was scared. I mean . . . I was worried that I had been infected: demonic power transference. There’s precedence. I kept waiting to grow tentacles. When that didn’t happen . . . I don’t know. I didn’t know how to tell you.” Because you aren’t the same you. And we aren’t the same we And now I’m not even the same me. “I hoped it would go away,” I say aloud. “And nothing has been different. Not really.” Except the way I feel, all the time. And my sleeping habits. And the nightmares.

Artemis has not failed to catalog this information. “You haven’t been sleeping nearly as well. And your nightmares are different. Fewer about the fire, more about . . . monsters.”

“But look at what we do! Of course I dream about bad things. I spend half of every morning researching doomsday prophecies and demon family trees.”

Artemis leaves our closet and sits on the edge of her bed. I follow. We stare at her quilt. Mine is handmade from all the T-shirts we grew out of. Hers is so blank and scratchy it looks like it belongs on a hospital bed.

“If you felt this change right before magic was destroyed, then there’s a chance that you could be a—” She pauses. Revulsion and anger flicker over her face.

Demon, I think.

She says something even worse. “Slayer.”

Slayer.