“Fine. Whatever. I got this on my own.” I spend the rest of the dream sitting there eating ice cream, while Sineya repeatedly stabs me in the back and Chao-Ahn throws her hands up in exasperation.
* * *
The next morning at breakfast, it’s clear Chao-Ahn remembers the dream very clearly. She glares at me from across the room during the entire meal.
Cillian rubs his head, his close-cropped hair unmussable. He looks rough. I pass him a bottle of ibuprofen. It takes everything in me not to stare aggressively toward the pantries and give away that I already know where Leo is. It was pretty obvious as soon as I thought about it. Not the dorms where I am. Not the Council wing, with its connection to secret passages. The one place in the castle everyone wants me to stay out of for other reasons, namely my atrocious cooking.
“What is wrong with you?” Chao-Ahn asks, dropping onto the bench across from me.
“Where to start?” Jade mutters from where she’s slumped on my other side. I pass her the ibuprofen. I feel fine. Yay, Slayer powers.
Cillian jabs in her direction with his spoon. “Hey now.”
“No, that’s fair.” I pat Jade on the shoulder. She flinches as though being touched hurts.
“Has anyone seen Doug?” She straightens, looking hopefully around the room. “I need to talk to him.”
I change the subject. I feel for Jade, but I’m also Doug’s friend. And if he wants out of the relationship, she needs to get over it sooner rather than later. It’ll be best for both of them. “So I got today’s schedule from Rhys—shoved under my door; I think he’s mad—and this morning I’m taking the new Slayers on a tour of the castle and assigning you castle defense and lockdown positions.” That still gives me the afternoon to go visit Cillian’s mother. I haven’t stopped trying to call Artemis either, but there’s no timeline on that being successful, apparently. And at some point I’m going to have to break into the pantries to talk to Leo.
“What?” shrieks Taylor, her tray clattering to the ground behind me. “Castle defense? I thought this was supposed to be a safe space!”
Jade stands up. “Clearly someone has never researched Watcher history. I’m making bombs in the weapons shed, so be sure to knock. If you see Doug, tell him I want to talk to him.”
“Did she just say she’s making bombs?” Cillian watches Jade walk away with wide, worried eyes.
“Is everyone here very stoned?” Maricruz takes Jade’s place. “Because if so, it’s rude not to share.” She tugs Taylor’s arm and forces her to sit down too. “What’s going on today?”
I give them the basics. It doesn’t go over well. Cillian slides in to detail lockdown procedure. Taylor pulls on the ends of her blond ponytail, face flushed and breathing coming fast. She’s on the verge of a panic attack. I have some things to help soothe her in my medical center. Xanax, kava, even some Rescue Remedy for the most natural option. I think I’d go that route with Taylor.
This flash of old Nina hits me hard, and I close my eyes. I’ve felt so removed from myself lately. And even now, most of my mind is on my other plans, when this—finding someone who needs help and giving them that help—is exactly what I wanted to do. What I wanted to make.
I flex my fingers, make fists. I will beat everything back into submission. I can. I’m strong enough, I know I am. I’ll fix it all. I’ll talk to Leo and figure myself out. I’ll talk to Cillian’s mom and get information. And I’ll talk to Artemis and get that book back and maybe—maybe, maybe—get her back too.
Cillian has finished filling them in. I’m impressed. He’s really stepped up to become part of the castle. Taylor, however, is trembling like a reed in the wind. “Wait, why is so much of the castle defense plan centered around protecting a demon? If someone came here just for this Doug guy, why would we all risk ourselves to protect him?”
We made these specific defense plans under the assumption that, at some point, Sean’s going to make a play to get his prize moneymaker back. “Doug put himself on the line at Von Alston’s so I could help you all. I would no more turn you back over to someone hunting you than I will betray Doug. I’ll fight to the death for both of you. If you can’t accept that, you can leave.” It comes out harsher than I intend. I take a deep, steadying breath. “You don’t have to fight. I wouldn’t ask that of you. You always have a choice here.” It’s the only thing I can offer her, the thing that all Slayers were denied. A choice.
“What are our options?” Maricruz’s wide-set eyes are steady, but I can see the tension around them. I have no idea what these three went through, fighting at Buffy’s side. I can only imagine.
“If you really don’t want to be part of it, you can leave. I don’t want you to go, though.”
“Maybe we’ll be safer,” Taylor says.
“We are Slayers,” Chao-Ahn says. “Nowhere is safer than anywhere else. At least here we are not alone.”
I nod at her. “We can assign you to the Littles. Their rooms are so far out of the way, and there’s nothing in there anyone would want. Plus, you’ll be with Jessi, and she’s scarier than anything that might attack us.”
“So we’d hide?” Maricruz doesn’t seem any happier about this option. I can see the tension in her, and I know exactly what she’s feeling. She’s a Slayer. Even when she doesn’t want to fight, it’s hard to deny the instinct.
“You’d protect. The Littles and each other.”
She nods, reluctant. Taylor still seems extra on edge, so I decide our first stop on the castle tour will be the medical center, where I can give her some natural anxiety reducers. I don’t have anything powerful—I’m not a psychiatrist or a real doctor—but something’s better than nothing.
The tour takes way too long. I show them the grounds, avoiding the shed where Jade is apparently making bombs. I always wondered what she’d be like if she weren’t sleeping all the time. This was not on my list of possibilities. We visit the gym, where Doug is hanging out. It’s a clever place if he wants to avoid Jade, who has always avoided the gym. Taylor doesn’t disguise her glare. I shoo them out, but Doug holds up a hand for me to wait.
“I overheard her this morning when I was passing the kitchen. And she might have a point. If me being here makes everything more dangerous …”
“Nope. You being here is exactly the point of everything. You’re not going anywhere, and no one is taking you. Ever.”
Doug nods, then sniffs, then looks confused. “Why—why do you smell so happy all of a sudden?”
I shouldn’t be. I have a looming conversation with Leo once I can ditch enough people to make it happen, and I’ve started texting Artemis because maybe she’ll respond to that, then I have to go visit Cillian’s mother to find out more about this potential baddie. But last night, when I was drunk, I decided to use some of my ill-gotten funds for a good cause. I can’t keep it secret anymore. “Guess what we’re doing next month?”
Doug lifts one patch of cracked skin where an eyebrow would be. “Inventory. Training. Housebreaking the tiny purple demons.”
“Eew, no. I got tickets to Coldplay.”
The sound he makes doesn’t register on any human scale of notes. He rushes to me, throwing his arms around me and spinning me in a circle. “You didn’t! You didn’t!”
I laugh. “I did.” To prove to him, and myself, and everyone else that we’re okay. We’re normal. Nothing bad is going to happen to any of us. Including knucklehead Leo. I got a ticket for him, too.
“But how did you get the money?”
“Von Alston is treating us from beyond the grave.”
Doug’s smile is even better than a hit of his artificial happy. “You’re a good friend, Nina. Whatever it was that brought us together—fate or demonic power object or luck or—”
“My mother?”
“Or your mother, I’m glad it did.” He hugs me again, and I rest my head against him for a few heartbeats. If I were a bad person, if I were all the way broken, Doug would know. He wouldn’t be my friend.
Leo will give me answers about the darkness of my power, and we’ll figure it out, and everything will be fine.
I head back out to the Slayers and introduce them to Pelly. The tiny purple demons are harder to track down, but eventually we find them. It … doesn’t go over well. The Slayers are clearly on edge around the chaotic energy of the three little demons. I hurry them along, moving on to the kitchens—where the pantry nags at me, knowing that Leo is there—and then the bathrooms, the Council wing, the dorm wing, and finally the secret passages. Sufficiently impressed, I leave them to explore on their own.
It’s been hours. I send another text. The first one said I had a deal for her. These ones are just question marks and exclamation points and random letters to make her phone chime with notifications. And now I can’t wait any longer to go visit Leo. I hurry to the library to check if my mom is there, mostly so I’ll know where she is when I’m defying her wishes.
When I open the door, my mother and Rhys are in there. But they both look … twitchy. Guilty. Rhys slams a book shut. I step forward and look down at the cover. “Why are you wasting time reading Arcturius the Farsighted’s prophecies?”
“Just checking something.” Rhys pushes his glasses up and slides the book off the table.
“No. Tell me. Why are you reading that?” It would be nothing if he were reading any other book. This one is personal.
My mother sets her hands on the table, regarding me coolly and calmly. “We had some questions about the last prophecy.”
“That one’s done. We can check it off the list.” It was about Artemis and me, how one of us would break the world and one of us would heal it. But we already stopped the hellmouth from being formed.
“It doesn’t quite line up,” Rhys says.
“What?”
“The details of the prophecy and what you did. For example, Artemis had very little to do with stopping Eve’s hellmouth.”
“Yeah, but I lost my powers because I protected Artemis, so that led to the breaking part. And then the healing, when I plugged up the hellmouth with the remora demon.”
The noise Rhys makes is one I’m deeply familiar with: a low hum of that’s not right, but I don’t want to fight, so I’m not going to correct you. I’ve heard it many, many times during our years of studying together.
My mother has her Watcher face on. She’s perfectly calm and collected while delivering brutally upsetting information. “We thought it best to make certain we aren’t overlooking anything vital.”
I throw my hands in the air. “We don’t have time for an apocalypse. It’s going to have to reschedule for another month when I’m not trying to settle in three new Slayers and keep an eye on Sean and whatever his new minion associates are up to. Maybe pencil an apocalypse in for May. It seems like a nice spring activity.”
“No one said anything about an apocalypse,” my mother says, her mouth twitching with the hint of a smile. “But I do agree that spring is a nice season for apocalypses to be triggered. Come to think of it, most of the near-apocalypses in recent memory have happened in May.” She frowns thoughtfully. “I wonder why that is.”
I shrug. “Like seasonal allergies. The earth trying to sneeze itself out of existence. Anyway, the Slayers have been slotted into our plans and chore rotation. Arcturius is low priority.” I want him to be. I need him to be. I can’t worry about another thing. “Have you been looking into cambions so you can help Leo?”
Rhys glares at me. “We’re worrying about Leo. You don’t need to.”
“Come on, Nina.” My mother stands and gestures for me to follow her out of the library. As soon as we’re in the hall, she stops and turns to me. “I change my mind. I think you should talk to Leo.”
“What?”
“Leo is important to you. He always has been. And with Artemis—well. I never spoke to her when I should, and she left. I’ve been very guilty of letting people I care about slip away because I was angry, or because I was scared. I won’t see you repeat my mistakes. Go talk to Leo.”
“Seriously?”
She smiles. It’s sad, but strong. It’s exactly who she is. “I would give anything for another chance to speak to the love of my life. Which I’m not saying Leo is—you’re much too young to settle into a love for your entire life just yet—but you never know what will happen. Don’t let words go unsaid. That’s what Watchers do, and you’re not a Watcher.” She puts her hand on my cheek. It doesn’t feel like Esther’s hand. It’s colder, not as natural a fit. But I appreciate it all the more for the effort it takes my mother to think of a comforting gesture and then do it.
“Okay, okay,” I grumble, but I smile at her. “The pantries?”
“How did you know?”
“Pretty obvious. It’s where I’d hide something from me too.”
She scowls. “Well, I suppose it doesn’t matter. Go ahead.”
I hurry to the kitchen and then pause outside the pantry rooms, taking a deep breath. Time to talk to my not-dead not-boyfriend.
ARTEMIS
“ARE YOU SURE ABOUT THIS, Moon?” Honora is leaning close to the mirror, applying her eyeliner with a steady hand. It’s fascinating to watch Honora work with fingernail polish and makeup as efficiently as she checks and loads her weapons.
Artemis sets down her phone. It feels like a bomb. She just hasn’t detonated it yet. “I’m sure. We’ll do the least damage possible. But it has to be done.”
“Does it?”
Artemis sighs and looks at the gun she’s loading very, very carefully. “If we don’t do it, someone else will. If it isn’t today for this demon, it’ll be next week for another one. It’s only a matter of time. At least this way, we can save them from themselves. We won’t kill anyone. We won’t even hurt them, if we can avoid it.”
“I’ve fought your sister before. She’s not going to be careful not to hurt me.”
“I know.” Artemis hates how much Nina hates Honora. It’s unfair and selfish of her sister. But she has a plan for that. She has a plan for everything. She just hasn’t been able to make herself hit send yet. “Don’t worry. We’ll eliminate the potential source for the most damage before we even get there.”
“You want to kill Nina? I never liked her, but still. Harsh.” Honora is smiling slyly.
Artemis rolls her eyes and pulls out her phone. Two calls to make. This is the easy one. She’s got her argument all ready. Why it has to happen this way. Why they have to take who they have to take. Imogen picks up on the third ring.
“Sanctuary, this is Imogen speaking, how may I direct your call?” There’s a laughing quality to her voice.
“It’s me.”
“I know. What’s up?”
“You have something we need. Someone.” Artemis takes a deep breath, ready to launch into her arguments.
“Cheers, what do you need me to do?”
“What?”
“What do you need? They’re keeping a close eye on things. I could drug them all, but I can’t guarantee everyone will eat the same thing. Hard to gauge how much it will take to knock out the Slayers, too.”
“Wait, Slayers—plural?”
“Yeah, but the three new ones are duds. They won’t factor in. Here, do you have a pen? I’ll detail where all the humans will be in case of a lockdown. That way you know where to avoid. I’m not sure where your target will be, unfortunately.”
“We can handle that.” Artemis gestures for a notebook and a pen, and Honora scrounges in a drawer until she comes up with them.
“First, though, you’ll need Nina out of the way.”
“I’ve got that.” What she’s doing is unforgiveable, but at least Nina will be gone. She’ll be safe. And more than that, she won’t be there to see what happens. Who’s doing it. And who she’s losing.
It’s for the best. For everyone. Artemis takes careful notes as Imogen details the castle lockdown procedures, what their defenses are, and which areas Artemis will need to instruct her more lethal forces to avoid.
>
When she has enough info, she sets down her pen. “Thanks, Imogen. Hey. Why did you stay?” She really never knew Imogen well besides their occasional commiseration as they did the worst tasks the castle had to offer. But Imogen had as much, if not more, reason to leave.
“Got a job. I have to see it through. You understand. Hey, Nina.” Imogen’s tone shifts, becoming the more familiar, sweet one she used in the castle. Artemis freezes, as though somehow her twin will be able to sense her on the other end of the line. “Okay, sounds good! I think this exchange of goods will benefit everyone. Can’t wait for the chickens.” The line goes dead.
Artemis is seized with a sudden urge to call Nina with the truth. To tell her everything. To avoid this entire mess.
But it wouldn’t help them in the end. She has to make the hard choices. “Call the goons,” she says to Honora. “We have a plan.”
“No fatalities,” Honora says, her voice firm. She hasn’t said anything about Von Alston’s death, but she keeps washing her hands. “We don’t kill any humans.” Her voice softens. “And we have to give him a choice, okay? We can be clear about the consequences, but it has to be his decision.”
“What if he says no?”
“Then we figure out another way. Promise me, Moon.”
“Promise.” It’s the first time Artemis has ever lied to the girl she loves. Another on the increasingly heavy list of acceptable sacrifices. She holds her phone and stares as another series of meaningless punctuation marks from Nina comes in. It’s almost time to make the call that will break her sister.
20
THE CASTLE HAS MANY ODD architectural features. It was never intended for how the Watchers used it—as a sort of summer camp for trainees—so the conversion had to make do with what was available. The dining hall has soaring ceilings and exposed stone to contrast with the long, chipped Formica picnic-style tables. The kitchen was totally redone. There wasn’t any pantry or closet space there, though. So they took the next three rooms and converted them.
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