Chosen (Slayer 2)

“Nina. Well, we can worry about the math later.”

Still confused and also oddly disappointed and unsettled, I walk out of the trees with the three Slayers and the alleged werewolf. Von Alston stands, and I can’t see whether he’s surprised, but I sure hope so. He’s flanked by three security guards. I shoot tranquilizers at all three before they can draw their own weapons.

I walk up to Von Alston and grab him around the throat. “Monopoly would have been easier. For you. Now let’s go see about my friend and my prize, and then we can play a fun game called Hostage Negotiations, where I use you to get all of us out of here without any problems.”

He sputters until I release some of the pressure. “No prize. The werewolf is still alive.”

“Do you see a werewolf here? Because I don’t. Besides, alive is such a temporary state of being.” I tighten my grip again, a small, mean thrill of pleasure coursing through me seeing panic on the face of this man who threatened my friends and tried to kill innocent people. Something pushes me to go further. To squeeze harder. Because I can.

I let him go and take a step back, shuddering. That’s not me. That can’t be me. Where did that come from? “Come on. No funny business or I’ll let the nice man bite you, and then we’ll see if your stance on werewolf rights changes.”

“I’d really prefer not to bite you,” Oz says. “We’ve only just met, and I don’t think we’re at a biting stage of our relationship yet.”

Chao-Ahn and Maricruz each take one of Von Alston’s arms and frog-march him back toward the manor. Two figures appear on the distant steps of the front door and I lift the tranquilizer gun to use the scope to view them.

One is Doug, having obviously freed himself. But I can’t even wonder how, because I can’t process who the other person I’m viewing through the crosshairs is.

Leo.

Leo Silvera.

Who is not dead.

I twitch. My finger pulls the trigger. Leo collapses.

15

“HEY,” A SOFT, EVEN VOICE says. A hand comes down on my shoulder. “Hey. Deep breaths. Focus on your breathing.”

Leo is there, lying on the porch, unconscious. And even though I know we’re outside, we’re safe, I can almost feel the remora demon expanding all around us. I know what will happen if I try to drag Leo away. I won’t be able to, and he’ll die, just like he did before.

Just like he didn’t before.

“Breathe,” Oz says again, moving to stand in front of me. He blocks my sight of Leo, and I feel like I’ve surfaced from too long underwater. I gasp for air, gulp it desperately. “Good. Breathing is good. I really dig breathing.” He smiles but doesn’t move, keeping one hand on my shoulder.

“I’m okay,” I say. I’m not okay. I’m not. I haven’t been okay since Leo died. And Leo isn’t dead. All the anger I’ve been suppressing, all the grief I’ve been avoiding. The floodgates are open, and I feel it all. Along with joy and also absolute confusion. And rage. So much rage. Because Leo is alive. Leo is alive!

Leo is alive?

“Yeah.” Oz almost smiles, an odd expression that is both reassuring and unnerving. He’s like Doug, I think. Only instead of smelling emotions, I suspect Oz just sort of … gets them. I wrap my arms around myself and focus on breathing. Oz removes his hand and steps to the side. “Can I get my van back now?” he asks Von Alston.

“I don’t understand,” Ian Von Alston says, staring at Oz.

“I get that a lot.” Oz wanders toward the garages. “It might be hard to tell which one is mine. My van blends in pretty well with Aston Martins.”

“How is he still human?” Von Alston asks, frowning.

I can’t look at the porch. I can’t feel what I’m feeling. It’s too much. So I pick the nearest thing that I understand. And that’s Von Alston, the rich weasel. All my rage focuses, contained. “Why do you have Leo? How long have you had him? Where were you holding him?” That’s why he never came back! Von Alston took Leo. All this time, thinking Leo was dead, blaming myself, hurting so damn much every day. My hand twitches. I want it around Von Alston’s throat with an intensity that scares me.

“Nina,” Doug says, walking up. His face flashes with alarm, and he steps between Von Alston and me. “Let’s redirect whatever’s happening here.”

“Demon!” Taylor squeaks. Maricruz and Chao-Ahn both shift to defensive stances

.

“He’s my friend,” I snap. I hate that everyone is still talking, still here. I don’t want to talk to any of them. I want answers. I want answers that will solve the way I feel right now, because I can’t handle feeling like this. There’s too much input; I’m fraying at the edges.

“Do we have to fight anyone?” Maricruz asks. Chao-Ahn and Taylor are standing next to her. They’re all flicking their eyes between Doug and the mansion.