“No, I mean, they said you can’t have free movement in the castle. So let’s go.”
“What?”
“Gotta take a partner on every trip out of the castle. Even one to meet with my sister.” I’m not done talking to Leo yet. Not by a long shot. And maybe it will distract me from my nerves over going to confront Artemis. Plus, this way she’ll still have the option of coming back, even if she thinks she doesn’t want it. “I could … I could use a Watcher.”
His face softens, and he grabs his blanket, wrapping it around his shoulders. I open the door to find the next pantry room empty, Imogen’s book lying facedown and open. “What is she, a sociopath?” I close the book so the spine won’t break, then peer out into the kitchen. The coast is clear. My mother gave me permission to talk to Leo, but I’m pretty sure she wouldn’t approve of this. Leo walks far too slowly for my needs, but we make it through the great hall and down the front stone steps without being caught. I get him in the car.
“One second.” I sprint back inside to my room and grab Artemis’s favorite leather jacket out of the closet. A peace offering. And a reminder. I saved my meager pocket money and sold half my novels to buy it for her for our last birthday. Once I’m back in the car and we’re on the way, I text Rhys that I got a call from a chaos demon—not technically a lie—and I’m going to check it out and I took Leo with me.
Then I turn my phone off.
Leo leans back in his seat, closing his eyes. The dappled January sunlight, as weak as he is but just as lovely, plays on his face, and something in my chest loosens for the first time in months.
21
“AND YOU’RE SURE YOU SAW what you saw?” Leo asks as I slow down, scanning the streets for the address Artemis texted me.
I nod, miserable. I brought him along to talk about my power, but he overheard my conversation with Artemis and asked what’s been going on. I told him the truth. Talking it out almost feels like what we were getting close to before everything went to hellmouths in a handbasket. What we should have been: Watcher and Slayer. Except he’s still wrapped in a blanket and can barely keep his head up, and we’re worrying about my sister instead of a demon or vampire. “Kind of hard to mistake her intentions when she told Honora to throw me off a moving vehicle.”
“Maybe she’ll have a good explanation.”
“She had better. But at least we’ll have that book back and we can get some answers about this nameless one or Sleeping One or whoever he is. Cillian’s mom—shoot, I was supposed to meet her this afternoon—knows some stuff too.” Maybe we’ll stop there on the way back to the castle. I have a feeling I’ll be in no hurry to get back and face the music.
“What will you do if you discover danger beyond just the zealots?”
I shrug. “I don’t know. Slayers should have some sort of sign-up sheet where you post a threat and whoever is best equipped to deal with it steps in.”
“So, Buffy. Every time.”
I laugh. “Yeah, she probably wouldn’t appreciate it.”
“It’s going to be fine. You’ll figure it out.”
“Which part? Artemis, or the potential looming monstrosity?”
His smile has more faith in me than I deserve. “Both.”
“It might get messy, though. Oh gods, speaking of mess, I told that chaos demon we’d meet with him next week. What if he’s telling the truth and he isn’t chaos incarnate anymore? And we have to give him sanctuary?”
“How would he fit in the car?” Leo asks, staring at the backseat where the chaos demon would presumably sit.
“Oh no, you’re right. We’d need a sunroof open or something. Maybe if he turned to the side? And his antlers came up between the seats? But then he’d drip slime on us and … yuck. Maybe he’ll have his own car. Or we’ll get lucky and he’ll try to kill us, so we can deny him entry.”
Leo laughs. It’s soft and dry and a bit rattley, but still makes me happy to hear. “That’s a weird definition of getting lucky.”
“Only type of getting lucky I manage these days.” I cringe. Do not talk about getting lucky with the only boy you’ve ever liked. Fortunately, Leo’s laugh has turned into a cough, and he didn’t catch what I said or can’t respond.
I slow down even mo
re as we get close to the address, looking from side to side for a house, or an abandoned shack, or a lair. Whatever Honora might have picked to live in with my sister. Instead, I pull up alongside a cemetery weeping with the gently falling rain. Even the trees are heavy and bowed with time, nodding over the worn and age-pocked monuments. An angel with her head lowered, hands covering her face, is wrapped in her own stone wings as though trying to find comfort in cold granite.
The fence around the cemetery is old and rusting, and it doesn’t look like anyone new has been buried here in at least a few decades. It probably doesn’t get a lot of foot traffic on dreary, drizzling January days. We couldn’t have met at a coffee shop?
It’s not quite sunset, and I don’t really relish the thought of standing in the rain freezing my butt off, so I put the car in park but keep it running. This feels like my last chance to fix things. But I’m also defensive and angry and worried I’m going to snap and shout at Artemis like she deserves.
Leo rests a hand gently on my shoulder. “She’s your sister,” he says.
“Let’s hope that’s enough.” I lean back in my seat, surveying the cemetery. It must go on for some ways. The heavy trees and low gray drizzle keep me from seeing too far inside, but I don’t see any movement. I’ll wait until the sun actually goes down. Artemis said sunset. And I kind of like the idea of making her wait for me after what a jerk she was.