Chosen (Slayer 2)

“Cheers, what do you need me to do?”

“What?”

“What do you need? They’re keeping a close eye on things. I could drug them all, but I can’t guarantee everyone will eat the same thing. Hard to gauge how much it will take to knock out the Slayers, too.”

“Wait, Slayers—plural?”

“Yeah, but the three new ones are duds. They won’t factor in. Here, do you have a pen? I’ll detail where all the humans will be in case of a lockdown. That way you know where to avoid. I’m not sure where your target will be, unfortunately.”

“We can handle that.” Artemis gestures for a notebook and a pen, and Honora scrounges in a drawer until she comes up with them.

“First, though, you’ll need Nina out of the way.”

“I’ve got that.” What she’s doing is unforgiveable, but at least Nina will be gone. She’ll be safe. And more than that, she won’t be there to see what happens. Who’s doing it. And who she’s losing.

It’s for the best. For everyone. Artemis takes careful notes as Imogen details the castle lockdown procedures, what their defenses are, and which areas Artemis will need to instruct her more lethal forces to avoid.

>

When she has enough info, she sets down her pen. “Thanks, Imogen. Hey. Why did you stay?” She really never knew Imogen well besides their occasional commiseration as they did the worst tasks the castle had to offer. But Imogen had as much, if not more, reason to leave.

“Got a job. I have to see it through. You understand. Hey, Nina.” Imogen’s tone shifts, becoming the more familiar, sweet one she used in the castle. Artemis freezes, as though somehow her twin will be able to sense her on the other end of the line. “Okay, sounds good! I think this exchange of goods will benefit everyone. Can’t wait for the chickens.” The line goes dead.

Artemis is seized with a sudden urge to call Nina with the truth. To tell her everything. To avoid this entire mess.

But it wouldn’t help them in the end. She has to make the hard choices. “Call the goons,” she says to Honora. “We have a plan.”

“No fatalities,” Honora says, her voice firm. She hasn’t said anything about Von Alston’s death, but she keeps washing her hands. “We don’t kill any humans.” Her voice softens. “And we have to give him a choice, okay? We can be clear about the consequences, but it has to be his decision.”

“What if he says no?”

“Then we figure out another way. Promise me, Moon.”

“Promise.” It’s the first time Artemis has ever lied to the girl she loves. Another on the increasingly heavy list of acceptable sacrifices. She holds her phone and stares as another series of meaningless punctuation marks from Nina comes in. It’s almost time to make the call that will break her sister.

20

THE CASTLE HAS MANY ODD architectural features. It was never intended for how the Watchers used it—as a sort of summer camp for trainees—so the conversion had to make do with what was available. The dining hall has soaring ceilings and exposed stone to contrast with the long, chipped Formica picnic-style tables. The kitchen was totally redone. There wasn’t any pantry or closet space there, though. So they took the next three rooms and converted them.

I try the door to the pantries. It’s locked. My mother must not have let anyone else know I was going to visit Leo. I’m not the only rule breaker in the family.

I stand outside the door for several minutes. I still haven’t sorted through how I’m supposed to feel about Leo. But I have to talk to him. I didn’t kill Von Alston, but … I could have. And I think Leo is the only person who can help me work through why.

Having the other Slayers here has made me realize that I still feel separate from them. Different. And I don’t know if it’s my Watcher background, or if somehow the power inside me is wrong. Besides which, Chao-Ahn already seems weirdly suspicious of me. I don’t want to talk to her about all my murdery impulses.

I twist the doorknob until it snaps, then push the door open. The first pantry leads to the next door and the next pantry. This one is filled with cereal, pasta, bread, canned goods, and Imogen.

“Hey, Nina,” she says, holding up a finger. “Okay, sounds good! I think this exchange of goods will benefit everyone. Can’t wait for the chickens.” She hangs up and lowers her cell phone. “Trading some of the excess weapons for a coop.”

“Really? Big market for used swords and the like?”

“LARPers. Anyway, you broke in.”

I don’t know where Imogen falls on the Nina-seeing-Leo sides—with Rhys or my mother. I study the shelves as though I were looking for a snack of … pickled beets. I pick up the jar. It’s dusty, the contents floating in a vaguely menacing manner. “I was hungry?”

“I agreed to guard duty to keep Leo in. Never agreed to keep you out.” She gestures to a set of keys on a shelf next to her chair. “Feel free to not break the next doorknob. Hard to explain to Rhys and Ruth.”

“Thank you.” I take the keys, my fingers betraying me with a slight tremble as I unlock the door.