Slayer (Slayer 1)

“Do you know whether he was on earth when the portals closed?”

I shrug, wishing I could impress her. “No idea.”

Bradford Smythe answers. “I believe he is trapped here. He’ll still have his basic demonic abilities but will be considerably handicapped by the lack of magic.”

“Didn’t anyone think this might be a good time to go after demons like D’Hoffryn?” Eve asks, forehead creased.

“We don’t have the resources.” Bradford doesn’t sound offended. Just wistful. “What you see here is what we have, my dear.”

Eve smiles at me, and the furrow leaves her brow. I find myself standing straighter. “What I see here is all the start we need.”

I know I’m blushing, and I don’t care. Being looked at with pride and hope by such a remarkable Watcher is a feeling I never realized how much I needed. No one ever congratulated me for learning a new splinting technique or complimented my ability to time a pulse. But Eve not only believes I’m a Slayer . . . she’s glad I am. She might be the only one.

And the way she looks at me makes me feel like I might actually be able to do this. She might even be the person I can trust with Cillian’s demon. I’ll have to feel her out and wait until Bradford Smythe isn’t here, but I’m already relieved at the anticipation of shifting the burden onto someone more capable.

“Helen can’t know.” Bradford sighs. “She means well, but it is . . . complicated.”

Eve nods. “Families always are.” She turns back to me, and her head tilts to the side. “I do have a question about the timing. When, exactly, did you feel the change? It had to have happened before the Seed of Wonder was destroyed.”

“I think it happened exactly then. It’s why I didn’t tell anyone I felt weird. There was a big demon and a sort of magical aftershock wave, and we were splattered in demon goo. That’s when I felt like I was—it’s hard to describe . . . being unmade? Like everything in my body shifted so I wasn’t me, but I was more me than I had ever been. I was afraid it was a demon thing, so I ignored it. Until the hellhound attacked, and my body just reacted.”

Eve’s face shifts with amazement. “Nina, if you changed from Potential to Slayer at the very moment the magic was destroyed, that means you are the last Slayer. Ever. The end of the line stretching back to the very first one.”

The weight of that settles on my shoulders. I don’t want this mantle. I never asked for it. But one part makes sense: I got picked last. Some things never change.

Eve squeezes my shoulder again, then looks around the room as though imagining what I’ll do. “We’ll train you in secret. Bradford’s right: Your mother can’t know. And frankly, I don’t care for Wanda’s politics. Ruth probably won’t have an opinion one way or the other.”

I still don’t know how I feel about training, but she’s so supportive, I don’t want to take that for granted. And training doesn’t mean becoming Action Girl Slayer. It just means figuring out how I’ve changed, which is a good thing. I hope.

“Can Rhys be involved?” It

feels traitorous not wanting Artemis—who already offered to train me—but Rhys is so much easier to be around. I’d feel better with my friend at my side. If anyone is going to help Eve, I want it to be Rhys, not Leo. He’s practically radiating coldness. Ever since he got shot down for agreeing that I shouldn’t jump right into training, it’s like he’s not even in there anymore.

Eve shakes her head. “Rhys has his own studies to complete. And we don’t want to force him to lie to your mother. It’s best to keep this contained. No Rhys, no Imogen or Jade. As far as the Council is concerned, only Bradford and I will know.”

“Artemis already knows.”

“That’s fine. But your closest relationship should be with your Watcher.”

She thinks I need a Watcher. It’s such a funny concept to me. Like being a member of a race-car-driving family, and then learning you need your own driver. Bradford is too old—I hope. It’s going to be Eve. I regret all the fantasies I entertained of her being horribly injured so that Leo would fall at my feet, weeping with gratitude that I saved his mother, after which I would calmly and coolly reject him.

I might not have wanted to be a Slayer, but with Eve as my Watcher, I feel like maybe I can do this. Like maybe I can be great at this. I’ll show my mom how wrong she was to keep me sidelined. I’ll show Artemis that she doesn’t have to worry about me anymore. And hell, maybe I can show Buffy what a Slayer should be. The things I hate about her, the struggles Watchers have had with Slayers over the centuries—I can avoid them. There has to be a better way to keep our world safe, a way that doesn’t rely so heavily on pure violence. I’ll find it.

“It won’t be hard keeping it a secret from my mother,” I say. “She never notices me anyway.”

“Be patient with her,” Bradford says. “She’s lost so much. She’s very protective of you. But I believe it’s more dangerous not to train you.”

I don’t think he knows my mother very well. “Protective” doesn’t describe her. Cold. Unyielding. Even manipulative, now that I know the truth she’s hidden from us. And “protective” isn’t a word I’d use for a woman who left me behind in a fire. No, the only reason I can imagine she’s so against me being a Slayer is because she hates Slayers.

The thing I hated too. But maybe I only hate the way Buffy is a Slayer. The Slayer from the village in my dream last night—she was amazing. If she’d had someone to help her plan, she probably could have avoided dying, even. I want to be a Slayer and a Watcher in one.

“My sister said she’d help train me,” I say. If Rhys is off the table, Artemis will have to do.

Eve shakes her head. “It’s fine if she knows, as long as she can keep a secret from your mother. But Artemis doesn’t have the skill or experience to train you.”

“That’s not true, she—”

“Artemis is exceptional. But she hasn’t been fully trained. She’s been an assistant rather than in line for the Council. We have to give you the absolute best, Nina. You’re too important.”