Chosen (Slayer 2)

Before I can be left behind, I jog to the front. I won’t let Imogen bear the brunt of an attack. Rhys brings up the rear, with Cillian and Doug protected in the middle. If it were up to me, we’d leave Cillian and Doug behind. But this is their fight too. It’s personal for all of us.

The tunnel curves sharply. There are temporary lights strung too far apart, so all they do is create deeper, more disorienting shadows. Nothing jumps at us. No fangs or blades greet us. We walk unchallenged. At last the tunnel reaches what I assume is the center of the meadow above us. It opens into a huge, brightly-lit cavern.

The first thing my eyes settle on is the triangle puzzle thing like Cillian’s. It’s suspended from the roof of the cavern. Only instead of being small enough for a child’s hands, it’s big enough for an adult to climb into. And instead of being empty, it’s filled with glowing, pulsing, quivering light. Next to it, on a catwalk connected to the doom triangle but not leading to our own catwalk, is Leo. He’s chained in place with his hand duct-taped to the point of one of the triangles. He’s also glowing.

I glance down. At the bottom of the cavern, discarded like empty husks, are dozens of demon bodies.

Leo looks across the cavern and sees us. “I’m sorry.” His face is anguished. “They said they’d kill you if I didn’t come with them. And then … they would have taken you next, just like my mother did. I had to choose.”

“I thought you couldn’t drain energy on your own?” I shout across the echoing space, angry with him for trying to protect me yet again by leaving. And so devastated for him for what he’s been forced to do.

“?‘Can’t’ is very different from not wanting to.” Sean appears on the other side of the cavern from some other tunnel. He’s wearing a slick suit, his hair pulled back into a ponytail. He smiles. “Leo was perfectly happy to let his mother do the dirty work and survive off her. But my girls figured out the right motivation.”

“They were bad demons,” Honora says from behind us. We turn as one, weapons raised, but she holds up her free hand. One arm is splinted. “The ones he drained. We only picked the ones you’d be obligated to kill as a Slayer. Or at least, if you were a real Slayer. And if Leo were a real Watcher. Some of us haven’t forgotten our jobs.”

“Does your job include serving a hellgod?” I ask.

Honora tries to give me a haughty, dismissive look, but there’s something shifty and—dare I say—uncomfortable behind her perfectly lined eyes. “I don’t have to defend myself.”

“That’s where you’re wrong.” I swing my sword so she ducks. While she’s distracted, I kick her in the shoulder. She careens off the catwalk, unable to stop her momentum. She bounces against the side of the cavern, rolling a few times before managing to catch herself one-handed against a rocky outcrop.

“What the hell?” she shouts. “I was trying to have a conversation.”

“Are we ready?” a new voice asks. It’s Cillian’s dad. He’s on a catwalk across from us. Our catwalks aren’t connected. The one we’re on curves around and g

oes back into another tunnel. Leo’s isn’t connected to ours either, but it isn’t connected to Cillian’s dad’s catwalk. Sean is on the same catwalk as Cillian’s dad, and Leo is joined by—

Artemis walks out to stand next to him. She looks down at Honora, and her face shifts in concern. “You okay?”

“Grand.” Honora grunts, slowly pulling herself up the side of the cavern.

There’s a muffled boom above us. Dirt and debris rain down. The cage swings and sways but doesn’t fall. We all hold our breaths, but the cavern ceiling holds. And, unfortunately, so does Cillian’s father’s body. So blowing up the stone didn’t make a difference. Sean gestures to a couple of goons, and they run off to see what happened. I hope Jade is ready.

“Why did you let them in?” Sean asks the hellgod.

He appears confused by the question. “She is yours.” He points to me. “But now there are two of her.” He thought I was Artemis, and that’s why he let us follow. Score one for being identical. “One of any human is still too many. Why did they make two of this one?”

“When did you get back?” Cillian takes a step forward so he’s got a direct sight line to his father.

His father tilts his head. He’s scratching idly at his arms, opening up welts that close almost as fast as they appear. “Who are you?”

“Fecking hell, Da, it’s me. Cillian.”

Still no recognition appears on the hellgod’s face.

“I’m your son!” Cillian shouts.

“No.” He holds a hand out so it’s level with his side. “The child is this tall. And he has longer hair than you.”

Cillian’s laugh is harsh and angry. “Kids grow. Do you have any idea how long you’ve been gone?”

His dad raises his hand slowly as though adjusting his measurement of Cillian. He appears deep in thought. “I never left.”

“Yeah, you did. You left us. Mum and me.”

He shakes his head. “I never left the earth. I had so much time to think. So much aching, crawling, buzzing time. Why leave? Why struggle back and forth? I did for so long because it was too loud here—so loud, so loud, all the voices and claws and hungry mouths sucking at it—but I had gotten used to the noise. You were noisy.” A brief, dreamy smile flits across his face, but then it goes back to a neutral expression so lifeless it’s almost terrifying. “I stayed. And because I stayed, I was here when the doors all shut. When the noise was cut off. Only I am here now, and it’s time.”

“Time for what?” Rhys’s crossbow is pointed right at his boyfriend’s dad.