Slayer (Slayer 1)

Sean takes his request at face value. Most of his accent fades, as though he’s giving a practiced pitch. “The black market for demon products has always existed. I dabbled. It was tough work. Most of my competitors depended on magic. They went under when magic died, may it rest in peace.” He solemnly traces a pentagram onto his chest, then grins. “But I was always old-fashioned. I preferred hunting down my demons to summoning them, preferred relying on human means to trap the supernatural. My competitors are out of business. Meanwhile, all these demons with no hell dimensions to slip back to are wandering around, trapped on earth. Alone and vulnerable. My empire is booming. I even have a new investor.”

“Are you the one killing demons, then?” I ask. When he frowns in confusion, I add, “We heard from a vampire that demons are turning up dead in the area.”

“I’ll look into it. No money for me in dead demons. Well, except the ones with good skin or valuable bones. But I’m not killing demons left and right. Bad for business, innit? You have to think long-term. Keeping them alive means you can generate continual income.”

I know my entire family exists because of the need to fight demons, but Sean is . . . gross. There’s a difference between protecting people from demons and profiting off them. “Income like you generated with Doug?”

“Like Doug! Exactly. I built everything on him. Started on the streets, dealing my own brand of happy pills. Worked my way up from there. And now? Sky’s the limit. I have to avoid any governmental attention, but my newest investor has connections. I’m talking with pharmaceutical companies. Think about it. There are seven species of self-healing demons in this basement alone. If we can isolate that, do genetic research on them, imagine what we could do. We could cure cancer. We could reverse aging. I’m turning profits, sure. But I’m also doing good! That night in the pit—those zompires were ready to infect this whole city. Now they’re gone. Everything is for the benefit of humanity, innit.”

“Wasn’t much humanity for the werewolves, or any humanity out there in those cages.”

Sean waves his hand dismissively. “Half those demons would kill you the instant they got out.”

“And the other half?”

“You don’t understand.”

I do. I really do. A demon forced my father to kill himself. Another killed Cosmina and probably killed Bradford Smythe.

And Sean’s right too. Demons are a threat. Am I such a broken Slayer that I can’t kill demons and I can’t stand to see them caged? How can I reconcile my natural instincts to take care of things, to heal things, with what my calling actually is? Maybe Honora’s right, and I was only ever compensating for the things I couldn’t do. Am I still doing that, pretending like I care about living creatures when really I’m just a sucky Slayer and I don’t want to admit it to myself?

I hope not. But with so many lives at stake, I can’t afford to be wrong.

Leo has drifted over to the aquarium. He turns from the remora demon. “How did you get involved with demons in the first place?”

Sean undoes a flask, taking a drink. He holds it out to me. I recoil, and he shrugs, putting it back. “Same reason I do anything. Pretty girl. And there she is.”

The girl in the leather walks into the office. I turn around and we both freeze, stunned.

“Honora?” I ask.

“Wheezy.” She pulls out a gun and points it at my head.

25

“WHY DO YOU HAVE A gun?” I should have known Honora would be here. Of course she’s here. She’s working hand in hand with Sean. I can’t believe she’d tell someone like him about the Watchers. After everyone we’ve lost.

Honora rolls her eyes. “I have a gun, idiot, because I’m not going to carry around a miniature crossbow. We don’t all pretend like being a Watcher still means anything. This is my c

ity. I don’t have to play by any rules at all.” She lowers the gun slightly, shaking her head meaningfully at Leo, who had started moving to get around her. “You should try it sometime, Leo.”

Sean clears his throat. “Honora, love, you realize that I’m directly behind her, so there’s a high likelihood that you’ll shoot me as well?”

“This bitch is the reason we lost Doug.”

“Don’t you dare call my sister a bitch.” Artemis appears in the doorway behind Honora, her face a mask of fury. She’s here! And she finally knows I’m right. She kicks Honora’s hand, knocking the gun free. It clatters menacingly to the floor. “You lied to me. You used me to find that demon. He didn’t really kill anyone, did he?”

“There are two of them?” Sean looks both alarmed and bemused as he stares at Artemis and then me.

“I don’t want to fight you, Artemis. I like you.” Honora holds her arms out to display her innocence. I stand, ready. Leo is perfectly still, waiting to see if he needs to pounce. Honora ignores both of us, focusing on Artemis. “Listen to what we have to say. I think you’ll understand.”

Then, to my shock, she throws a punch. Artemis ducks it. Honora laughs. They spin in a flurry of kicks and blocks, punches and dodges.

Honora is holding back, though. I can tell. She used so much more force on me this morning. If she were really fighting, Artemis wouldn’t be conscious. I think Artemis knows it too. She dodges another punch and—smiles? She’s smiling? Gods, they’re flirting. Honora was pointing a gun at me not two minutes ago! I look at Leo, aghast. He shrugs.

Catching herself smiling, Artemis scowls, kicking at Honora’s side. “How could you work for him?”

“Please.” Honora dodges the kick, then spins around behind Artemis, pinning her arm to her back. She rests her cheek against Artemis’s neck. “They don’t deserve you. They have you serving them meals, Artemis. Look at you. You’re a goddess.”