Chosen (Slayer 2)

“What did his friends call him?”

“Mate. Buddy. Pal. Chum. I don’t know. I actually can’t think of a single time I ever heard someone call him by a name. I was a kid, though, so maybe I didn’t notice.”

“Or maybe he doesn’t have one. Or he doesn’t have one that human voices can say. Interesting. Well, as I was saying, three forms. And when he reaches the third form, he’ll be unstoppable. But your mother doesn’t seem to know what that means, or what form he’s currently on. It’s not much help.” He hums to himself, an atonal thing he does without realizing it while he’s focusing. “I can’t find any specific weaknesses. I wonder why they call him the Sleeping One. Maybe because he only visited once a year?”

“If Jade were a god, that would be her name too,” Doug says. His voice is laced with fondness. Maybe her extreme efforts to keep him safe—even though he’s no longer supplying her with artificial happy—mended something between them.

Doug gives me a meaningful look. “And speaking of sleeping, when was the last time you did?”

I lean my head against his shoulder and close my eyes, certain I won’t fall asleep.

As in every other part of my life right now, I’m wrong.

* * *

“Come on!” I dodge the obsidian knife as it tries to find my stomach. “I want to talk with Buffy!”

Sineya glowers at me, the effect amplified by the white face paint she wears.

“It’s not my fault I have extra demon!” I twist, then run. I find myself in my childhood bedroom, the purple flames that haunted me for so long frozen. The floor is neatly lined with bodies. The bodies I created out of living people. I stand, shocked, and take them all in. There are the expected ones, but so many new additions. Rhys. Cillian. Jade. Doug. Chao-Ahn and Maricruz. My mother. Leo.

And Artemis.

She’s laid out in the center, the others forming a triangle around her.

I came here to—I wanted to—I needed to—

I can’t look away from the bodies. They’re here because of me. This is my fault. They’re all dead because of me. Because I couldn’t keep them safe.

I look down in my hand to see a knife, coated in sticky black blood. I didn’t just fail to protect them. I killed them. There’s movement behind me, and I turn, slamming my knife into Sineya’s stomach before she can get me. But it’s not Sineya I’ve stabbed.

It’s Buffy. Her eyes widen in shock, and then go blank. She slumps, limp in my arms.

“No,” I whisper. “No no no no.” I lay her next to Artemis and I don’t know what to do.

“Hey, kid,” a woman says. I turn to see the same brunette with pouty lips and big brown eyes who took me to the Slayer rave what feels like a lifetime ago. “Come with me.” She takes my hand and tugs me away from my carnage.

“It’s not—I didn’t—”

“Hey, no need to explain. If I had a dollar for every time I’ve stabbed B in my dreams—or just my daydreams—well, I’d have a lot of dollars. And if she had a dollar for every time she stabbed me in real life, she’d have … one dollar. So I’m coming out way ahead.”

I half expect her to drop me off at the rave, which is the last place I want to be. I can’t think straight, the dream storm getting closer and the atmosphere crackling with the promise of destruction. It’s almost here. But instead of the rave, she takes me to an office. There are a couple of flags, a neat and tidy desk, a closet, and a big set of cabinets.

She sits in the office chair behind the desk, putting her booted feet up on it. “He hated it when I did this.” She smiles, but it’s sad.

“Where are we?”

“Somewhere that made me feel safe back in the day, when I needed it most. I was pretty broken.” She purses those full lips, stained dark red. “Not sure I’m any less broken now, but I’m better at handling it, you know? Tell me why Sineya’s been gunning for you, why you bring that storm with you here, and why you thought B deserved a knife in the belly.”

“I didn’t—I didn’t realize it was her. There were all the bodies, and

I just reacted.”

She nods. “Been there. Only my insta-stab reaction wasn’t a dream. I ran straight here after. I almost destroyed everything, myself included, because I couldn’t handle the darkness.”

“I have more than you, though. So much more. Leo gave me extra when he—”

She holds up a hand, cutting me off. “So?”