Slayer

by Kiersten White

  It’s too high to reach, though, thank goodness.

  Then I cringe. It is too high for a normal human. Artemis won’t approve. She wants me outside, safe. But I have to believe that I have these powers for a reason. I crouch and then jump with all my might. I overshoot, sailing up past the last rung and scrambling for a hold somewhere in the middle. The ladder groans in metallic protest, but it holds. Unfortunately.

  “Dammit, Nina!” Artemis stomps her foot. “We can’t get up that way!”

  “Go around and find a door.”

  “No. Come back down. Now.”

  There’s a popping noise. I climb up as fast as I can, the ladder pulling free from the wall. I jump the last few feet, hanging on to the roof’s edge as the ladder swings drunkenly away from the building. No one else is coming up that way.

  “Nina!” Artemis hisses.

  “I’m fine! Go around the back. I’ll look for a way in from up here.”

  She curses. “Don’t you dare go in without us.”

  I hear them running and pull myself up all the way onto the roof, rolling to the flat surface and lying on my back. For a second I’m tempted to obey Artemis—to wait for her and Leo to find another way in. But that’s not what a Slayer would do. My sister may have more experience hunting vampires, but I have Slayer powers, and it’s not safe to let her go in first. Even if she is treating me like I need a babysitter.

  Propelled by anger, I jump to my feet and scour the roof’s landscape in the dark. There are a few bulky metal boxes that look like air circulation units. And there’s one square set low against the roof. I hurry over to it and find a hatch door.

  I don’t have a sword. Or a flamethrower. Or an Uzi. I close my eyes, take a deep breath, and whisper, “I can do this.”

  It was only one vampire in the alley and in my dream. I have holy water in my pocket and a stake. I can scare off a vampire. And I don’t even know if the vampire’s in there. Like Leo said, Slayer dreams don’t exactly come with a time stamp. I open the hatch and peer inside, trying to make out any forms, but the room is dark. I climb through and drop down, planning to land in a badass crouch. Instead I land on a metal structure. One of my legs falls straight between two bars. My stake slips out of my hand.

  And then I look down to see half a dozen snarling creatures, every single blood-crazed eye trained on me.

  14

  WITH SIX HELLHOUNDS BENEATH ME, I consider several things at once:

  First, that my leg is stuck through the bars and it’s within their reach.

  Second, that it’s unfortunate they’re named after hounds, because it’s really souring me on the idea of ever getting a dog.

  And third, the same as the first: My. Leg. Is. Stuck.

  I tug with all my might and it pops free just as the nearest hellhound leaps. The hound smashes against the roof of the cage, jaws closing around one of the bars.

  “Bad doggy!” I shout.

  A snarling behind me signals the presence of more than hellhounds. I leap down from the cage, fists up, but I don’t need to bother. Everything in here is caged. And though the room is almost pitch-dark, barely lit by some emergency lights blinking above us, I can see there are a lot of cages. My Slayer instincts are going haywire. I force myself to inspect the room even though my body is screaming at me to do something. I really hope my dream hasn’t happened yet. Because I’m pretty sure this is the room Cosmina was in. And if she was already in here, she certainly isn’t anymore. . . .

  I creep closer to the next cage, expecting more hellhounds. In the corner of the cage are ragged human clothes, ripped to shreds. I gasp in horror. Something throws itself at the bars in front of me, bouncing off and growling.

  It’s a werewolf. The clothes belong to it, not some victim. But my relief is short-lived, because it’s a werewolf, and the moon is full. I do a quick sweep of the cavernous space. My six hellhound buddies in one cage with dividers, six werewolves in separate cages, and six . . .

  I take a step back. Inside the last cage, divided like the hellhounds, are six monsters. I’ve never seen anything like them. They’re wearing human clothes, and they look almost like vampires—but wrong. Which is saying something, because vampires are already wrong. These creatures are a perversion on top of a perversion. Gone is any semblance of humanity. I thought that was the worst thing about vampires—the way they look and talk like humans but have no souls. However, seeing these mindless, deformed, still human-shaped but now possessed things as they snap at the bars and stretch their clawed fingers for me makes me want to vomit.

  Demons are demons. Vampires are corruptions of humans. These? I don’t know. I dart back into a dark corner, cursing my yellow coat as a door opens and someone new walks in.

  “Hello, pets!” a woman sings. “Look at you all, already frenzied. You know we have something special for you tonight, don’t you?” She pauses to coo at the hellhounds. But when she passes the cage of unknown creatures, she spits at them. “Abominations,” she mutters, checking a few levers on the outsides of the cages. She’s the vampire from my dream. I’m almost positive, even in the dark.

  I should stake the vampire. I know I should.

  My body knows it should.

  But my brain has enough control now that the thought of retrieving the fallen stake, creeping up to her, plunging it into her back, watching as she disappears . . .

  It’s not the right move. I need more information. Maybe there’s someone waiting for her, someone who would raise an alarm if she didn’t return. Or maybe she’d hear me trying to find the stake and let the monsters loose on me.

  I’m making excuses. I know what Artemis would do. What Buffy would do, even. Yet I still can’t bring myself to take a step toward the vampire.

  Exhausted from fighting my instincts, disappointed in myself, and confused about what the right choice is, I use the cover of the loud creepy creatures and darkness to slide along the room’s perimeter. I debate finding a way outside to meet back up with Artemis and Leo. But the door the vampire came from is calling to me. There’s more going on here than I expected, and a good Watcher would figure out what it is. A good Slayer would too. I have to be both brains and muscle in this scenario. I’ll stake the vampire as soon as I know more.

  The door leads to a damp stairwell, the stairs rusted and noisy. I do my best to creep down them. Another door waits for me at the bottom. I take a moment to calm myself, sure that after the previous room, I’m ready for anything. Then I open the door.

  Okay, I wasn’t ready for this.

  The room is packed with people. They mill about, drinks in their hands, the whole room buzzing with conversation and excitement. It looks like a sporting event. I straighten, sauntering in like I belong there. Fortunately for me, it’s still quite dark, the main lights focused brilliantly in the center of the space. A closer look reveals a pit flooded with light. It’s twenty feet deep and about the same in length and width. The floor is packed dirt. The pit’s walls, however, are lined with bright shining barbed wire. I suspect it’s at least tipped with silver. There’s a hum in the air that doesn’t seem like it’s coming from the floodlights. That’s when I notice two generators hooked up to cables that lead to the barbed wire. Electrified wire.

  Whatever is going to happen in that pit, it’s not good. I squint upward, trying to see past the lights. The ceiling has big square hatches in it. If I’m calculating it right, they’re all placed directly beneath the cages.

  Something wet splashes on my coat sleeve. I whip around, terrified that I’ve been caught. A demon with brilliant red, symbol-carved skin grimaces. “Sorry. So bloody dark in here. And now I need a new beer.” He raises one scar-where-an-eyebrow-should-be, grinning hopefully at me. “Can I get you one too?”

  “You’re not my type,” I blurt. Then I cringe. Pissing off a demon in the middle of enemy territory is not a good idea. “Girls!” I say. “I like girls!”

  He laughs. “Me too.” Winking, he wanders away. Here’s hoping
all my demon encounters this night are so easily solved.

  He reminds me to take better stock of the crowd, though. It’s mostly human, but there are a few demons like my would-be suitor scattered throughout. There’s one line to buy drinks, and another where people are exchanging money for slips of paper. Maybe I did make the right call in not killing the vampire. If this group knew there was a threat, I definitely couldn’t take them all out. And I shouldn’t, either, with so many humans.

  A large glowing board behind the exchange table flickers to life, and an amplified voice echoes through the room.

  “Good evening, ladies, gentlemen, and those who are not quite so categorizable!” A demon next to me rolls its eyes. All seven of them. “Welcome to tonight’s event!”

  A man in a sleek suit with an equally sleek ponytail is standing on a raised platform holding a microphone. Next to him is a woman wearing head-to-toe dull gray leather. I can’t see her face in the shadows, but she’s not the vampire from the room upstairs.

  Where is Cosmina? How do I find her? If Artemis were here, she’d know what to do.

  I steel myself. It was my dream. My instincts. Cosmina needs me, not Artemis.

  “We have something special for you during tonight’s dogfight.” The announcer pauses, mugging in the spotlight. “I kid. We would never actually hurt dogs. What kind of monsters would do that? No, we’re here to make Dublin a safer place! Because this is our city, innit?”

  The crowd roars, lifting their drinks in the air.

  “And if we’re entertained and make some money in the process, well, good on us.” The announcer gestures to the board. “We have all the usual categories. Time in the pit, which breed will last longest or have the most survivors, you know the drill. But tonight, my friends—tonight we have a wild card.” He pauses, savoring the anticipatory silence. “Tonight, we have . . . a Slayer!”

  My heart seizes. I spin in a circle, ready for attack. I can see the exits. If I run fast enough . . .

  The room erupts into noise as everyone shouts. I duck, covering my head, but they all shove past me to place more bets. No one is coming for me. A few of the more demonic types slip free of the crowd and disappear. I want to follow their lead and get out. But a good Watcher would stay and learn all she could.

  What would a good Slayer do? I have no idea. Probably start punching things. I try to look inconspicuous. They said they had a Slayer. It’s obviously not me. Oh no. No no no. That means it’s got to be—

  A door in the center of the ceiling opens. Cosmina falls through, her hair a brilliant streak of blue. She lands hard in the middle of the pit. This is so much worse than one vampire.

  I rush to the barricade around the perimeter of the pit. Cosmina stands, breaking the ropes that had bound her. She doesn’t seem to be hurt from the fall, but her face is bruised. She squints up, shielding her eyes from the blinding lights. Then she lifts her index and middle fingers and flips off the crowd, British-style.

  Gods. She’s cool. If our situations were reversed, Cosmina would know how to help me. Would already have done it.

  Now I have to save Cosmina in front of everyone. And the clock is ticking. Why didn’t my dream fast-forward past the relatively easy vampire-only threat and give me a sneak preview of this much, much worse scenario? Whoever created this system was an idiot!

  Oh. Right. My ancestors created it. Thanks a lot, jerks.

  “No need to leave, my scalier mates,” the announcer calls as a few more demons book it out of the room. “I take it you’ve encountered our lovely Cosmina before. She’s been drugged. It’ll wear off quickly—we want a good show!—but she can’t get out of that pit. Don’t fret, though, little Slayer. You’ll have company soon enough!”

  The room settles some, and the board flashes with new betting options.

  “Before we give odds, a vote on tonight’s format: three at a time, or melee?”

  There are a few bloodthirsty screams for melee. But the majority wants a longer show. Three at a time wins.

  “Zompires and hellhounds and werewolves, oh my. What a night! Odds are on the board! Betting is open for the next two minutes, and then we begin!” The announcer sets down the microphone and wanders over to talk to the woman in leather. The vampire from upstairs has yet to reappear. Maybe I should have staked her after all. Or stayed up there. I could have saved Cosmina before she ever dropped into the pit. My instincts were wrong.

  No, my instincts told me to kill the vampire. I could have killed her and found Cosmina. We’d already be out of here. But I hesitated. Made the wrong choice.

  Now I have two minutes. I could attack the announcer, hold him hostage against Cosmina’s freedom. But is he in charge? I don’t know whether everyone—or even anyone—in here cares about his safety.

  If I jump the barrier to get to Cosmina, a hundred sets of eyes will immediately be on me. And this is a crowd that has no problem killing Slayers.

  I’m not so prideful I’ll risk Cosmina’s life to prove I can handle being a Slayer. I need Artemis. I’ll run out and—

  A bell dings and a buzzer sounds. Three doors open, raining a werewolf, a hellhound, and whatever the hell the other creature is down on Cosmina.

  The werewolf and the hellhound immediately go after each other, jaws snapping and claws grappling. They’re down in a frenzy of limbs. But the third thing—the announcer said “zompire,” a term I’ve never heard—zeroes in on Cosmina, running at her with fangs bared. Cosmina ducks and rolls past it, jumping to her feet and kicking it in the back. It flies into the barbed wire with a shower of sparks. The crowd roars.

  The zompire falls, twitching.

  And then it crawls toward Cosmina.

  Some sense alerts me. I spin, snatching an object out of the air before it hits me. A stake. On the edge of the crowd I see Leo, who looks . . . proud. I didn’t duck this time. I caught the weapon so I could control it.

  Leo and Artemis are here. I have help. But Cosmina needs it more than I do.

  I whistle. The werewolf and the hellhound pause their fight, panting, and Cosmina looks up at me. I throw the stake to her.

  The zompire lunges. Cosmina sinks the stake into its chest.

  It poofs into dust like a vampire would. Which means it is a vampire. Sort of. But I don’t have time to think about it, because the hellhound and the werewolf have stopped fighting each other and noticed Cosmina instead.

  Another buzz. Three more creatures drop down.

  “Whoops!” the announcer says. “My hand slipped. Only fair, since someone changed the odds.”

  Cosmina crouches, the stake gripped in her hand, as she waits for the next attack. But she isn’t the only human down there. The werewolves are people too. I don’t want to do this. I want to do anything but this.

  But for the first time, I’m certain that this is what I need to do.

  I leap the barrier, then jump out into the pit so I won’t hit the barbed wire. I land hard, right next to Cosmina. This time I nail the badass crouch. It’s short-lived as I duck the stake that comes swinging at me.

  “I’m here to help!” I shout.

  “Who the hell are you?” she demands. A hellhound lunges and I grab it, spinning and throwing it away from us.

  “I’m a Watch—a Slayer!”

  “Stay out of my way.” She shifts to engage the newest zompire. I duck a huge paw swiping at me, then twist and kick a werewolf hard in the chest. It flies across the pit, hitting the electrified wire. It howls in pain, then falls, unconscious.

  The next werewolf bounds toward me. I drop onto my back, then kick out with both legs, using its own momentum to fling it, too, into the wire.

  That’s two down. They’re out, but they’re not dead. My body knows exactly what to do, even when I have no clue. I scramble back onto my feet. Cosmina’s dusted the zompire, and one of the hellhounds is tangled in the wire, slowly cooking to death. My stomach turns. It’s a demon, but I don’t want to watch it suffer.

  Cosmina ki
cks the last hellhound right into me. I catch it, holding it in place.

  “Well?” she shouts.

  I give her an incredulous look. “Well, what? You have the stake!”

  “Great. A newborn Slayer. Just my luck.” She yanks the hellhound away from me and throws it as hard as she can straight up. It lands past the edge of the pit and scrambles away. There are shouts of fear and surprise, then several shots ring out. I assume the hellhound is dead.

  “Very naughty, girls,” the announcer chides. This isn’t close to over. We’ve eliminated only two of each type. Which means there are four hellhounds, four werewolves, and four zompires left.

  “This got interesting!” The announcer is more gleeful than worried. “We have two for the price of one on this Slayer deal! What do you say we even the odds?” A series of buzzers sounds, and two of each of the remaining creatures drop down into the pit.

  At the same time, a sword flies in, landing on the ground next to me. I grip the hilt so tightly my hands ache.

  “Do you know how to use that?” Cosmina demands.

  “No!” I go back-to-back with her. She sounds like Artemis, and I’m done with it. “I’m doing okay so far!”

  “No one asked you to—” She breaks off, dodging the zompire lunging for her. I have my own to deal with. It avoids my clumsy strike, hitting me hard in the side. I fly across the pit and fall just short of the electric wires and certain incapacitation—and therefore death. The monster races after me. I lift the sword and its momentum impales it.

  It snarls, sliding farther down the blade toward me, fangs bared.

  “Stake to the heart—a sword is useless that way!” Cosmina shouts. “Cut off the head!”

  “Right!” I knew that; obviously I knew that. I brace both feet against the zompire and kick it free of the sword. Standing, I swing the sword like a baseball bat. It slices clean through the zompire’s neck.

  And then something that was becomes something that isn’t, disappearing in a poof of dust. I feel a surge of adrenaline, my heart racing, blood singing in my veins. It’s gone, and I’m alive. I have never been this alive. Power and strength suffuse me. With a scream, I swing the sword at my next attacker.