Chosen (Slayer 2)

Leo is alive. We saved the world’s weirdest werewolf and three Slayers. I should be relieved. I should be happy.

I should be.

ARTEMIS

AS SHE GETS OUT OF the car, Artemis thinks Ian Von Alston’s estate is like something out of a Jane Austen novel, if Jane were writing about a man who bought his nobility and used his wealth to hunt demons for sport instead of falling in love with someone slightly inappropriate. Actually, she would read that book. Nina would like it too.

Or she would have, before she went Team Demon. Artemis understands her sympathies, she really does, but there’s still a difference between humans and demons, and that line has to stay there. Pretending that her little demon utopia is even possible shows how naive Nina still is, how incapable of handling everything mystical forces have given her. And she accused Artemis of turning her back on their past? Artemis can’t forget, won’t forget what demons and vampires have cost her. Cost their family. Cost the whole world.

Just because some are benign doesn’t mean they aren’t still tumors growing where they don’t belong.

“Remind me why we had to bring the entourage?” Honora glares over her shoulder at Sean and three huge goons, plus the Sleeping One drifting distractedly behind them.

“Pardon me if I want to make sure we get what we need.” Sean smooths his ponytail. “Someone’s sister cost us a lot of supplies yesterday.”

Honora rolls her eyes. “Yeah, and someone threw her off a moving vehicle. You had better not be questioning our loyalty. I’m the one who found this lead.”

Sean holds up his hands. “Certainly not questioning you, pet. But this demon is the key to everything. Boss wants to make sure we get the right merchandise this time. No more mistakes or false hope.”

The Sleeping One makes eye contact with them. “I am without so much. I cannot stand the emptiness, the silence. Can you feel time eating at you? An infestation, like maggots, devouring you from the inside out.” He holds out his hands, long fingers splayed. “I can see the decay that will claim me in another thirty, forty years. The blink of an eye.”

“Can the decay hurry up so we don’t have to listen to you anymore?” Honora lets out a long, annoyed breath, then pounds on the front door to the manor. An ancient butler answers it. “We’re expected.” Honora walks in right past him. Artemis follows with the rest of their entourage behind them.

A white man with a severely broken nose and some suspect bruising around his neck is sitting in a leather chair in a study. He stands, shocked, when Honora and Artemis enter.

“You!” he says, pointing at Artemis. She’s never seen him before in her life. Which can only mean … he knows Nina. And judging by the damage to his face, she’s guessing their acquaintance is recent. Which is bad news for all of them. She can’t let Sean and his people decide to go after Nina. It would be a lot easier if Nina would stop sticking her nose where it doesn’t belong.

“Nope, not me,” Artemis says, shaking her head. Honora makes a slashing motion over her throat, then puts a finger over her lips. His eyes widen and he shuts his mouth. The rest of the men shuffle in, the Sleeping One wandering to the window.

“We’re in the market for something in your possession,” Sean says.

“I’m, ah, afraid my inventory is depleted.” Von Alston keeps looking nervously at Honora and Artemis, licking his dry lips. “We had a mishap last night. If I had known you were coming, I would have held it for you.”

“You do not have what I need?” The Sleeping One doesn’t turn around, but his voice is as cold as the depths of winter.

Von Alston tugs on his collar. “I have many useful contacts. I own half the House of Lords. You’ll find working with me is most advantageous. You want me as an ally.”

The Sleeping One shakes his head. “I do not even want to breathe the same air as you. Filling your greedy lungs and then spewing poison to corrupt me.”

Von Alston laughs nervously. He looks at Sean instead of the Sleeping One. “You know me. My reputation. I can get him back. I will get him back. Let’s sit down, discuss terms. I have a feeling we’ll see eye to eye on everything.”

The Sleeping One turns and crosses the room to Von Alston. He reaches out and puts his thumbs through Von Alston’s eyes. Artemis jumps at the screaming, startled by the sudden, unannounced violence. Honora has stepped forward, an arm out in front of Artemis, a knife in one of her hands.

Von Alston drops to the floor, twitching and screaming. The Sleeping One holds the two eyeballs in his palm. “Ruined. I cannot see throu

gh these. Everything gets ruined. Everything decays.” He drops the eyeballs on the floor, then wipes his hands clean on Von Alston’s suit. “Everything dies.” He steps on Von Alston’s neck until it snaps.

And Artemis stands there and watches it all. She knows she should stop it. But if she does, she’ll lose her chance. She just watched a man die—a human man, however dubious his business—and she did nothing. Make the hard decisions. Make the acceptable sacrifices. She learned those lessons well as a Watcher, but she knows this moment will haunt her for the rest of her life. She has to make sure it’s worth it.

When it’s clear the Sleeping One is not going to murder Artemis, Honora quietly sheathes her knife. “No leads, then. Dead end.”

Things have to progress. She wants to protect Nina, but how can she without power? It’s Nina’s own fault. Artemis warned her about taking in demons. “He recognized me,” Artemis says. Honora shoots her a look as sharp as a knife. She was lying to protect that information. Artemis gives her a tiny shake of the head. “Which means he’s met Nina. She must have beaten us here and taken what we need. So we know where he is.”

Sean lets out an exaggerated sigh, staring up at the ceiling. “That Slayer is a pox. Always nicking my things. And this is bad news for us. You’re still vulnerable right now, pardon me for saying so, your, uh, unholy grace.” He waits, tense, but the Sleeping One merely nods. “The ginger Slayer isn’t vulnerable. We’ve got to make sure we know exactly what we’re facing. No mistakes this time.”

“Where?” the Sleeping One asks.

“Our old home. Two hours north of Dublin, along the coast.” Artemis feels less guilt for saying this than she should. Sean knows where the castle is. She’s not telling them anything new, and she has to be the one in charge. Because if she’s in charge, she’s in control. She can protect those fools even if they refuse to protect themselves by making smarter choices. “Honora and I know that castle inside and out. We’ll make the plan and lead the raid. Safest if the Sleeping One isn’t there. The Slayer doesn’t know about him, and there’s no reason to let her.”