Honora relaxes slightly next to her. She gets it now. They’re protecting the Watchers by attacking them. By keeping this monster out of their home.
“The coast,” the Sleeping One says. His eyes are fixed above her head. “I cannot go there. The call of the ocean, the weight of the stones, the press of humanity. If I go, will I want to stay? I stayed once. Longer than I should have.”
“Right,” Sean says. “We’re keeping you far away from the little ginger Slayer. Let’s get you back to Dublin before the bobbies get wind of this”—he gestures with disgust toward the still-warm body—“and then you leave it to my girls.”
Artemis struggles to hide her disgust at Sean’s possessive words. Honora looks at her nails, stained nearly black with her favorite fingernail polish. Artemis tries not to think about how her own nails used to be cheerful rainbows once a week thanks to Nina and their manicure and movie nights. She tries not to imagine how much blood must be under the Sleeping One’s fingernails right now.
Sean pulls out a handkerchief and gingerly retrieves the eyeballs. “Did you want these for some reason?” he asks the Sleeping One.
“I want only the power to save this corrupted world and this corrupting form.”
Artemis is even more bothered by how much she relates to that than she was by Sean’s possessiveness. She brushes it off, though. One of them wants power to dominate the entire world. One of them wants power to protect it. She’s nothing like this monster.
“Cheers to that.” Sean hands the eyeballs to one of the goons. “All right, ladies. Demons to steal, gods to recharge, bills to pay. Don’t disappoint me.” He tries to sound intimidating, but he’s not the threat and they all know it.
The Sleeping One fixes his eyes on Artemis’s. “This one is hungry,” he says. “She needs. She will bring me my prize.”
“I will.” She’ll attack her own family to do it. She’ll break Nina’s heart forever. And she won’t apologize for any of it, because a Watcher makes the hard sacrifices. A Watcher makes the choices no one else can. The test she failed was a simulation; she won’t fail the real one.
16
MARICRUZ LEANS INTO THE SPACE between the front seats. Doug is driving, and I’m in the passenger seat losing my mind. “Wait, so you are a Watcher, or you were a Watcher, or … ,” she asks.
“It’s complicated.”
“Okay, but Watchers have, like, a crap-ton of research, right? So tell me this: Mermaids. Real or not? Because if all these other monsters and demons are real, can’t we at least have mermaids, too, to balance the scales?”
“Not mermaids exactly, but I’m pretty sure I’ve read about something similar. Carnivorous, though.”
“No way!” Maricruz leans back, almost bouncing in her seat.
“How do mermaids do it?” Taylor asks, staring out the window at the night. We’re almost at the ferry. “Do they lay eggs like fish? Or do they … you know, do it?”
“Rhys can tell you. Stake me, Rhys. I forgot.” I pull out my phone to see dozens of texts and several missed calls. This was way longer than we were supposed to be gone, and we haven’t checked in with him at all. Not to mention my last call with Cillian was probably quite alarming. I text Rhys the details of our London trip. I hesitate, then leave out Artemis and Honora. Too much to get into. It’ll be easier to explain in person. I include the Slayers and Oz with a sinking feeling. No way to avoid mentioning that we hit Von Alston. Which means my mother will know I deliberately went against her advice. Even though I’m glad we did—who knows what would have happened to Oz and the Slayers otherwise—that old fear of displeasing her is hard to get rid of. I spent so many years desperate for her to acknowledge me, to approve of me, that disobeying her is terrifying.
But all those details about the trip are lost to context when I send the last text. My terse line about finding Leo is met with many, many nonterse texts back, which I ignore. At least their minds being blown over Leo might distract them from when I tell them about Artemis. I still don’t know how I’m going to do that.
On the ferry, I pace the deck and try not to think about Leo, who is sleeping in the van. The Slayers keep to themselves, which I get. They still don’t know me, not really. And I’m positively radiating my angst—a fact Doug let me know very unsubtly by keeping the windows rolled down on the drive, even though it’s January.
Between the drive, the wait for the ferry, and the ferry itself, it’s dark again when we finally get to Ireland. Rhys texts me as the ferry docks and I slide back into the car. I frown at my phone. “They’re here.”
“Who’s here?” Doug asks.
“Rhys and at least one other person, unless he refers to himself using the royal ‘we’ now. Said to meet them immediately. Parking lot one street over.” I give Oz directions to follow us. The few humming streetlights bathe the parking lot in eerily flat orange light. We pull in to find the only other car is one of ours, and standing outside it are Rhys, Cillian, Imogen, Tsip, and my mother. And then ancient Ruth Zabuto, she of the knitting needles and openmouthed snoring when she’s supposed to be watching the Littles, comes around the side holding a sword.
I’m out of our car before Doug puts it in park. “What’s wrong? What happened?”
“Get out of the van,” Rhys shouts. Doug climbs out of our car, the same look of confusion and fear on his face. The Slayers follow him, Taylor holding the kitten in front of her face like a shield.
Maricruz looks pissed, but I suspect it masks fear. “What is this?” she demands. “Did you set us up?”
Rhys is holding a crossbow. My mother has one hand in her suit pocket, where I’m almost positive she has her brutal handgun. Imogen doesn’t look tense; she’s casually leaning against their Range Rover. Tsip is shimmering in and out of existence. And Ruth has her feet apart in a fighting stance. How is she even holding the sword up? It’s got to weigh almost as much as she does.
I hold out a hand to Maricruz, who looks ready to run. “No! I have no idea what this is about.”
“I knew I should have RSVPed,” Oz says, climbing out of his van. “I always forget.”
Chao-Ahn slides free from the passenger seat with a stake in her hand and daggers in her glare as she looks at me.
I point at the well-armed castle denizens. “I didn’t tell them to show up here like this! Seriously, what’s going on?” I ask Rhys. “Is it the Littles? Are they okay? Oh gods, did—”
“Step away from the van.” Rhys crosses the space to us and yanks open the sliding door to the van. “Leo, get out and get on your knees.”
“If this is about tall, dark, and semi-unconscious, can we get back in the car?” Maricruz opens her door and ushers Taylor back inside. Chao-Ahn stays out and on alert.
I swat away Rhys’s crossbow. Leo is struggling to sit up. I shake my head at him. “Stay where you are. What in the many, many hells are you doing, Rhys?”
“Ian Von Alston is dead,” my mother says. “He was murdered.”
“What? When?”
Rhys jerks the crossbow free of my grip. “The last time we had Silveras in the castle, people died. We won’t risk that again.”
“But Leo warned us, remember? He told you the truth, and he saved us all by taking on his mother and stopping her hellmouth progress! He’s one of us!”
Rhys looks grim. “So was his mother. So was Imogen’s mother. A past as a Watcher cannot and will not excuse betrayal in any form. And how do we know he’s not like his mother? A man is dead.”
Doug takes a step toward the van. “Ian was alive and well when we left him. Leo was already outside, with me. Nina was the last one to …” He pauses. Rhys and my mother turn toward him, the silence weighted and pressing down like the night around us. Doug clears his throat. “The last one to talk to him.”
“No, you mean Nina was the last one to see him alive,” I say. “Do you think I killed him?”
“No! No. But you pushed him back into that room in the house, and when you came out, you
… I … well, it’s just, Leo was unconscious, and as soon as he woke up we were with him the whole time, so it couldn’t have been Leo, could it?” Doug looks down and to the side, avoiding my gaze.
“I left him alive.” How could he think otherwise? I cringe, closing my eyes. He knows better than anyone how I feel on the inside. He can’t get away from knowing, not trapped in confined spaces with me like he has been. And the truth is, I could have killed Von Alston. Part of me might have even wanted to.
Gods. Do I smell like a murderer? What is wrong with me?
“Nina?” My mother puts her hand on my arm. If she had the gun, it’s gone now. “Tell us what happened and why you went to Ian Von Alston’s estate.”
“We went to the convention. There was an attack. Sean’s people, I think, though there’s a new element. Humans, black cloaks, necklaces. Seem like zealots. I stopped the attack. I ran into …” I pause. This doesn’t feel like the right time. Everyone is literally up in arms already. If I tell them about Artemis, who knows how they’ll react? Rhys told me himself he doesn’t care about our past with someone if they betray us. And I can’t imagine they’ll view Artemis working with zealots as anything other than a betrayal.
I have to be careful. I can be as pissed off at her as I want, but when things crash and burn for her, which they will, I need her to feel terrible and guilty but be able to come home. She’s still my sister. My misguided sister, but mine. I won’t leave it up to other people whether or not she deserves her place in my home.
When we get back to the castle and I have a minute to breathe, I’ll call her. Explain that I haven’t told on her. That she can give the book back and there won’t be any consequences. It’ll help fix things between us and prevent complications at the castle.
Besides which, Artemis might be messing with things she shouldn’t, but it’s not like she’s my enemy. She can’t be. I continue, deliberately leaving her out. Doug stares at me, but I trust he won’t contradict me. “I ran into a few weird demons. Anyway, we got some information that led us to Leo. And to Oz, and these three Slayers, all of whom were in immediate mortal peril thanks to your ally, Von Alston.” My mother’s face twitches, but she doesn’t interrupt me. “I didn’t leave him on polite terms, exactly, but I definitely didn’t kill him. And he didn’t know I was a Watcher. He thought I was a rogue Slayer.”
“So you didn’t gouge out his eyes and then snap his neck?” Rhys asks.
I give him the most brutal glare I’m capable of. Chao-Ahn would approve. “Pretty sure I’d remember it. A girl never forgets her first eye gouging, or so I’ve heard.”
“That’s true!” Tsip chirps cheerfully.
“And you’re positive it couldn’t have been Leo.” Rhys peers into the van, then deflates and lowers the crossbow. Leo is in no state for neck-snapping. And that wouldn’t be his method, anyway. Incubi and succubi drain life force from victims, but usually only when they’re sleeping so there’s no resistance.
“His eyes were gouged out?” I ask, puzzled.
“Gone.” Rhys pushes his glasses back into place. “They were either taken for some reason, or eaten.”
“Eew,” I groan.
“What? We were all thinking it.”
“No. Nope. None of us were until you said that.”
“Well, I can research demons that consume eyes. Though none of the guards had their eyes removed. So it might have been for fun, rather than a specific pathology. Which, unfortunately, doesn’t narrow down suspect species. If only I knew whether the eyes were eaten.” Rhys stares into space, already absorbed with his theories and doubtless planning the research he’ll do as soon as we get back to the castle.
“Doug, Rhys, help Leo into the other car,” my mother says.
“I can help,” Oz says. “Don’t be fooled by my elfin good looks. I’m quite handy with demon transportation.”
I shake my head. “No, he’s okay where he—”
My mother takes my arm and gently steers me away from the others. “We debated whether or not to allow Leo back in the castle at all.”
“What? You made a decision without me? That’s not fair! Besides, I—”
“Nina. Might I remind you that you made the decision to go to Ian Von Alston’s estate after we made the decision not to. Sometimes you have to do the best with a situation as it presents itself. I wish you hadn’t, but—”
“Mom! He is—was—a creep of the highest order. We can’t want or need him for an ally.” I think of the money in the van and feel a twinge of guilt that I took it. Won’t do him any good now, anyway.
“We can’t fight every battle.”
“You’re still acting like a Watcher! Picking and choosing who’s worth fighting based on the benefit to us. I don’t care if I have to get a job, or if we have to send Jade out to work—actually, can we? That’s a great idea. But we’ll get money another way. Keeping allies like Von Alston because they might potentially help us someday, knowing they’re hurting vulnerable people and demons and whatever in the meantime? That’s wrong. That’s old-school Watcher crap. I won’t do it.”
My mother stiffens, and I instinctively cringe, bracing myself for her rejection. But instead of telling me I did wrong, she takes a few breaths and closes her eyes. I can see her physically changing course, trying to find a place where we can talk instead of fight.
And while Nina of the past would have been thrilled, I’m not. I want to fight. I want her to tell me I messed up. Because if she does, then I’ll feel justified in keeping secrets from her again. Secrets like what Artemis was doing. But my mother being understanding and working to meet me in the middle leaves me riddled with guilt over keeping things from her.
She finally smiles, but it’s sad. “You’re right. I made a decision like a Watcher. It’s the only way I know how to make decisions, and the only way I know how to protect you. You care so much, you love so hard, and I don’t understand it. It terrifies me.”
There it is. I fold my arms. “You think I’m stupid, or naive?”
“No. No, I think it’s tremendously brave. Braver than I’ve ever been.” She closes the space between us and presses a quick kiss to my forehead. It’s awkward but not unwelcome. But it hurts, because it reminds me of what I’m missing in our family. Artemis was my ally, my companion, my friend. I’m still acting like she is, in spite of evidence to the contrary, because it’s the only way I can hope she will be again.
My mother smooths my hair back, but she can’t do it like Artemis used to. “You were right to look into what was happening at Von Alston’s. And I’m glad you saved those Slayers and that odd man, and that you found Leo. But we have an entire community to worry about. And while your points in defense of Leo remain true, his heroics do not erase the fact that he knew his mother was a demonic predator and never told the Council or warned us until it was almost too late.”
She’s right. I know she is. But she’s also wrong. “If we kicked people out of the castle for keeping secrets, none of us would be there.”
My mother surprises me by laughing. It’s soft, almost more an exhalation, but it’s not the reaction I was expecting. “That’s very true. And it’s why I argued that Leo should be allowed to return. But under very specific, guarded conditions, until we can determine whether he poses any threat.”
“He can barely move!”
“We’ll also research how to help him. And we will help him. But I think it’s best if you leave Leo’s care—which will be protective both for and against him—to me.”
“But I can—”
“Can you be impartial when it comes to him?” There’s no accusation in her tone. She waits for my response. And I want to insist that I can. But when it comes to Leo, I’ve never been capable of that. Even now knowing he’s right there fills me with every emotion imaginable, none of them rational or impartial.
My mother takes my silence as confirmation of her suspicions. “Right, then. We’re agreed. Leo is my responsibility. You have enough to
deal with. Part of the agreement to allow him back in the castle is that he has to be restrained and under guard. We have the cells on the bottom floor of the castle.”
“Absolutely not. He’s already sick, Mom.” I went down there after Artemis left. I had no idea the prison existed; another dark secret of Watcher Society I was never privy to. The scent of damp rock, rust, and the lingering sense of despair and pain were not really my taste in decoration. “We can’t keep him down there. Put him in his mother’s old rooms. Or Wanda’s. Or Bradford’s. Or any of the rooms in the dorm wing.” We have so many empty spaces. Though I guess the Slayers will need some of it. And Oz, if he’s staying. I never asked.
“I’ll make a decision. But it won’t be the cells. I can get chains from storage.”
“That’s so excessive.”
“His mother preyed on people during their sleep. If it’s night, Leo is secured. That’s the trade-off.”
I remember the handcuffs from Cillian’s shed. The ones we used on Doug after we found him last year. “I’ll get a pair of handcuffs from Cillian’s. That should be enough. Leo can barely stand.”
“Fine. It’s a good compromise.” She squeezes my shoulder, then takes the keys from Cillian. Everyone from the castle but Cillian and Doug go in that car. They transferred Leo while I was distracted. The Rover pulls out into the darkness, the taillights staring at me like burning eyes.
“So, about the kitten!” Cillian rubs his hands together, excited.
“You mean Trouble?” Doug sounds innocent. That’s when I realize his Coldplay CD is playing on the car speaker, and the song is called “Trouble.” What an absolute nerd.
“You named it without me!” Cillian’s never looked this angry. “I can’t believe this.”
I put my hand on his arm. It’s my fault for not vetoing the name as soon as I heard it, like I did with Chewie. But I was a little distracted. “I promise, the next time we save a kitten from being eaten by a demon, you get to name it. And I’ll try to get one that isn’t orange, to make things easier on you.”
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