When will I stop reaching for Artemis where she isn’t?
I climb out of bed and throw on some clothes in the dark. I stop by the gym only to check on Pelly. It’s awake and hurries to my side, gentle eyes bright. I try not to look at the gym; it was the scene of so many of my moments with Leo. Instead, we head into the darkness. I run as fast and hard as I can, even though I’m only a few hours separated from my most recent run. Pelly keeps up. It’s fast—another detail that, coupled with the pairs of eyes placed on either side of its head more like a rabbit than a fox, makes it obvious Pelly’s breed of demon has always been prey. Never predator. Our Watcher texts didn’t bother mentioning that. I made sure Rhys noted it in his entry for Unpellis Demons.
We’re back at the castle before the sun rises. Pelly curls up under a tree while I do pull-ups, less to build strength and more to try and exhaust it. What used to feel like potential now feels like a constant tension. Less like I’m ready for any fight that might happen, and more like I’m aching for something—anything—to fight.
With nothing else to do, I head inside and shower, then walk to the library to kill a couple hours—the only thing I’m allowed to kill, I guess—before everyone gathers for our weekly meeting. We gave up the council room, preferring the cushy chairs we dragged into the library and set up in a circle. It feels more familiar to us than a stiff, formal room anyway.
The whole castle is dark and asleep. So I stop short when I see a strip of light beneath the polished wood door to the library. I have to fight against the instant alarm and wariness that seizes me. It’s probably Rhys, or my mother. Still, I open the door as silently as possible, on high alert. And then I freeze. It’s a familiar face, after all. But not one I expected to find.
Artemis?
Artemis!
“You’re back!” I rush into the room and throw my arms around Artemis in a hug. She came back. Seeing her here is like being able to take a deep breath for the first time in months. Things are going to be better now.
She’s holding a thick book, and it presses into me between us, trapped by my hug. “I knew it. I knew you’d finally get smart and leave Honora. I’m so happy you’re home! We have so much to talk about!”
But Artemis hasn’t said anything. And she’s still just holding that book. If she snuck in to come home, why wasn’t she waiting in our room? Why is she in the library? I cringe with guilt and try to form something like sympathy on my face as I release her. “Are you okay? Was it a bad breakup?”
I don’t hope it was. But I hope it was. Get it together, Nina. It’s my turn to be here for Artemis. She must not have been ready to face everyone yet after walking out on us for Honora and having that fall apart. I will not let my glee show. “We’ve all missed you.”
She still hasn’t said anything, and an alarm is ringing insistently somewhere inside me. Something is wrong. Did she get hurt? Is she in trouble? I babble, trying to fill the space between us. “We have meetings in here now. Didn’t want to use the old council room. Too stuffy. And we don’t really have lessons anymore. Not like we used to, anyway, though obviously Rhys still spends every waking hour studying. He’s working on some really great resources for us. And Imogen isn’t in charge of the Littles or teaching anymore; she’s mostly in the kitchen. Wait until you try her cookies. You won’t have to do those duties anymore, not unless you want to. We’ll work you into the schedule however you want, though everyone has to do a shift of bathroom cleaning, unfortunately. I tried to argue that it’s not part of my skills as a Slayer, but no one bought it. Anyway, you’ll get to pick what you want to do now, so that’s good, right?”
“I’m not back, Nina.”
The blow I was bracing for lands. I sit, staring at her. “Just visiting?” I keep my tone light and hopeful. But this doesn’t feel like a friendly visit. You don’t sneak into the castle in the dead of night if you want to pop by to check on how everyone’s doing. “Lots of new residents to introduce you to. How long are you staying?”
“You know I’m not.” She shakes her head, then sits across from me. But she’s not slumped in a chair. She’s perched on the edge of it, halfway up already. I can’t put my finger on what’s different until I realize she’s bracing herself against me. She used to orbit around me, always busy, anticipating needs before I had them. The way she’s sitting, it’s not like she’s half ready to get up and help me with something. It’s like she’s in a runner’s crouch, ready to take off. Away from me.
She finally looks me in the eyes. The rest of my dream hits me like cold water, plunging me back into the memory of laying her body down. We do look more alike now. But that fills me with panic. I don’t want that dream to be right about anything.
“You should turn them out,” Artemis says.
“Who?” I ask, trying to get the image of all the bodies out of my head.
“The demons.”
“Why would we do that?”
“They make you a target.”
“I’m already a target. We all are. We’re protecting ourselves and everyone else who needs it.” I sound more desperate than I want to. I want her to be impressed with what I’m doing here. To want to be part of it. She was always so supportive of my efforts to be castle medic and to expand my skills there. I finally have my mother’s approval, but it doesn’t compensate for losing my twin’s.
Artemis hugs the book she’s holding to her chest like a shield. “No one cares about Slayers anymore. They care even less about Watchers. If you weren’t running your little animal hospital here, no one would so much as lift a claw against you. All these years hiding were totally down to Watcher hubris. They couldn’t imagine a world that didn’t care about them, so they assumed everyone still wanted them gone, when in reality, no one even thinks about them anymore.” She looks around the library, shaking her head. “It’s like a mausoleum in here. You’re all living with the dead, still letting them control you.”
I jab a finger at her. “That’s not you talking. That’s Honora. This matters because it’s our past. Our heritage. Our link to Dad.”
Her eyes narrow, sharp and cutting. “You think Dad would want this? You staying hidden in a castle, isolated from the world, not doing anything to protect it? It’s selfish.”
I flinch at her words. “It is not. I’m protecting people!”
“No, you’re protecting demons. You think I don’t know who you’ve taken in? You have a vengeance demon, for hell’s sake! How much carnage is she responsible for? And now because her wish-granting is broken, suddenly she deserves help? I know you didn’t like the way Watchers did things, but gods, at least Watchers protected their own. What you’re doing here is irresponsible and dangerous. If you want to keep the Watchers safe, kick the demons out.”
“If we do that, we’re right back to what we used to be!”
“Who cares? You’re exactly what you always wanted. The most important girl in the castle.”
Her words pierce with more brutal force than the First Slayer’s blade did in my dream. Something in her face softens seeing my reaction. She sighs and leans forward, almost against her will. “I don’t mean that. But you always wanted to be a Watcher. You wanted this.” She lets go of the book and gestures to the room and castle around us. “And you’re holding on to it in the only ways you can. But you’re wrong. You’re all wrong. Be Watchers or be normal. This hybrid mess you’ve created will get people hurt.”
Is she right? Did I build Sanctuary with myself at the center just so I could finally matter the way I wanted to? But I didn’t do it for myself. I did it for Doug—kind, funny. Pelly, padding silently by my side. Jessi, who’s sort of the worst but loves the Littles as much as they deserve to be loved. Weirdo Tsip. The tiny purple demons.
I think of Leo. If he had had something like this to turn to, somewhere he could admit what he was and be accepted for it—helped, loved—he might still be here.
The demons, the Watchers, even the Slayers. We’re all castoffs, relics of ot
her worlds and times and magic. If we don’t protect one another, who will?
Besides which, the residents of Sanctuary are mine. Every demon here. I made them a promise. Buffy protected the whole world, yeah, but she stayed in Sunnydale until the end. She protected her home and the people she loved first.
“I’m doing the right thing.” I’m surprised at how firm my voice is.
Artemis is too, judging by her expression. “You’ve changed,” she says. She sounds unhappy about it.
“You’ve been gone awhile.” We sit in silence, then I resolve to fix it. She might not come back, but that doesn’t mean we have to be separated. Not totally. “If you’re not going to stay, that’s fine. But let’s go get some breakfast. I want to hear what you’ve been doing. How you are.”
Her hands tighten around the book, and I glance at it. There’s no title, only a symbol on the cover. Three interlocking triangles. I know I’ve seen it somewhere. The scent of fresh produce wafts into my memory, and I place it. It’s the symbol that was on all of demon drug dealer Sean’s tea. What it’s doing on a book in our library, I don’t know. But I do know that Artemis snuck in here in the middle of the night to get it. That’s what she’s here for. The only thing she’s here for.
“You’re working with Sean, aren’t you?” I clench my jaw. “He can’t have Doug back.”
She rolls her eyes. “This is bigger than Sean. And you can’t exactly criticize me for who I choose to associate with, given your little demon menagerie here.”
“Sean’s a creep! You’re better than this!”
She stands, glaring at me. “I am better than this. I’m better than Sean, and I’m better than the Watchers, and you have no idea what I’m doing, so keep your judgy eyebrows to yourself.”
“My eyebrows are not judgy!”
“Your eyebrows are so judgy they might as well have a gavel!”
We both glare at each other. I crack first. “Can they have a frilly white collar like Ruth Bader Ginsburg?”
She tries to hold her stern look, but the edges are trembling. “No. Your eyebrows have to wear a huge gross wig because we’re not in the USA, we’re in Ireland.”
I snort, which turns into a giggle. Artemis was never one for giggling, but even she grins at me, and for a few precious moments we’re each other’s again.
Then she sighs and tucks the book under her arm. I shouldn’t let her take it. It feels urgently wrong. Maybe that’s just my long-standing friendship with Rhys speaking, or maybe it’s some deeper instinct. But if I tell her no, I don’t know what will happen. And I need Artemis to be okay, I need her to be okay with me, so that when things fall apart for her—which they will—she’ll come back. She’ll be my twin again. We’ll paint each other’s nails and watch bad movies, and then I’ll have my mother and my sister.
I shove down my feelings and choose to ignore the fact that she’s stealing from us and I don’t know why. “Should I tell Mom you were here?”
Artemis shakes her head. “I didn’t want anyone to see me.” She bites her lips. She didn’t mean to admit that. If I hadn’t come into the library, she would have been in and out, and I never would have known.
It stings, and the aftertaste of laughing with her turns bitter. “Rhys will never forgive you for taking a book.”
She smiles, but it’s tight and full of tension, just like her ponytail. “It’s my library too. You said so yourself. Our heritage. I’m owed a lot of back pay for years of free labor. I’ll consider this a down payment.”
“Don’t give it to Sean. Please.” I can forgive her sneaking in, stealing the book, but not for that. Not for him.
“It’s for me, dummyrabbit.” She pauses, then straightens her shoulders like she’s settled something internally. “It’s for all of us. You’ll understand.”
“What does that mean? Please. Talk to me. Tell me what’s going on.” I pause. “Stay,” I whisper. She pretends like she doesn’t hear me as she zips up her leather jacket.
“I have your other coat,” I say, flinging out any words I can think of that might hook her. “In our room.”
“I’ll get it next time.” The words linger between us to soften the tension. Next time. She’s coming back. I lean toward her for a hug, but she turns and walks out into the dark hallway, not even a scent lingering in her wake. She’s just gone. Again.
7
I STAY IN THE LIBRARY as the sun rises. My mother is first in, of course. I wonder if she’ll somehow be able to sense that Artemis was here. And she does look uncomfortable as she sits across from me and sips her tea, but then I remember what happened at the warehouse and realize it’s all about me.
I can’t leave. It would be too obvious I’m trying to avoid her. Which is funny, because I used to be desperate for one-on-one time with her. I pick up a book at random and pretend to be absorbed in it. I wonder what was in the book that Artemis stole. She said she wasn’t giving it to Sean, and I trust her on that. I have to. I can’t tell Rhys she took it, though. He’d never forgive her. And I know they’d judge her, speculate about what she’s doing. She’ll be back. She said so. I won’t let our people turn themselves against her in the meantime. Artemis spent a lot of years protecting me; I feel fiercely protective of her even when I’m hurt and pissed off at her. I get to feel that way, but no one else does.
“We should talk about yesterday,” my mother says, surprising me. I really didn’t think she’d bring it up.
“What about it?” I don’t look up from the history of a minor hellgod. It might as well be a fairy tale now. Wherever this hellgod lives, it can’t get here to find more sacrifices. No more portals, thanks to Buffy.
Buffy. I wish I had been able to see her in the Slayer dream. I haven’t run into her in the dreamspaces, not in months. I really want to talk to her. It’s a stark change to how I used to feel about her. If I can’t have a Watcher, can I at least have the reigning Slayer?
“I’m concerned about your tactics,” my mother says.
I put the book down, defensiveness rearing in me like a snake ready to strike. First Artemis telling me I’m being selfish, and now my mom questioning my fighting. “What about them?”
“They were … excessive.”
“I held back! My instincts were telling me to do much worse.” Imogen told me I should have done exactly what my instincts told me to. Why is my mom giving me crap for it? “And besides, are you saying they didn’t deserve what they got? They were trying to shoot you! They were hunting a family. For money.”
My mother takes another prim sip of tea. “I think they did deserve much worse. From a tactical standpoint, your actions were both effective and reasonable.”
“Then why are we talking about them?”
“Because I’m not speaking from a tactical standpoint. I’m speaking as your mother. Your actions would have made sense for a mercenary. Or even another Watcher. But you’re not either of those things. You’re Nina.” Her voice gets soft, almost tentative. “My Nina. And that didn’t feel like you. Lately you’ve seemed …”
I can’t listen to my mother tell me who I am. Not after so many years of her deliberately hiding who I was, trying to keep me from becoming what mystical forces had chosen me for. I know she’s trying, I do, and I want her to try, but she has no right to make these judgments. I’m already raw and stinging from my encounter with Artemis. I open my mouth to snap something I know I’ll regret, but I’m saved by the door opening.
“Why is it so early?” Jade enters the room, trailing sleep like car exhaust in her wake. She slumps in the chair next to me. “Can’t we have these meetings in the afternoon?”
“Good morning!” Rhys is bright-eyed and perky, even his curls not flopping over his forehead. Doug joins us, sitting next to Jade, and finally Imogen walks in, bringing a tray of fresh pastries and fruit.
I’m immensely grateful my mother and I can’t keep talking now that our complete Watcher-Sanctuary Council group is here. Ruth Zabuto doesn’t care. Jessi
only wants information if it affects the Littles. Tsip sometimes appears in the middle of the meetings, but disappears just as quickly. The tiny purple demons understand English but can’t speak it and were banned from the library after eating several irreplaceable volumes. It’s the only time I’ve seen Rhys look genuinely terrifying. He’s been trained to kill, like every Watcher, and he was a heartbeat away from ending their violet lives. Another reason not to tell him about Artemis.
Cillian is always invited, but he spends his mornings tending his shop in town. With his mom still gone on a months-long soul-searching trip, he’s got to keep it up in order to pay their bills. It sucks that he has to work to afford a house he barely stays in now, though.
Rhys runs through the morning itinerary. Finances—always tight, but okay for now. Task assignments. I imagine where Artemis would be slotted in, but it hurts, so I stop. Rhys moves on to a review of those with invitations for Sanctuary entrance interviews.
“We can cross off the werewolf family.” I avoid eye contact with my mother. “They decided to go in another direction.” The opposite direction of wherever I am.
“Just as well. Children are expensive.” Rhys makes some notes, then talks with Imogen about how the kitchen food stock rotation is going, and whether she needs to add anything to our purchase lists.
“What about the chickens?” Jade asks.
“What?” Imogen frowns.
“That woman you were talking to on the phone about chickens. Are we getting chickens?”
Imogen’s frown slips into a slightly vacant smile. “Oh, right. I’m looking into it. Fresh eggs every day. And they’re better for you.”
Rhys makes a note. “Draw up a plan and we’ll review it.” It’s all very efficient and boring. The light in the library is warm and golden, dust motes winking in the air. I half expect Imogen to get up and begin our next lesson on demonology, or instruct me to translate a prophecy from Ancient Sumerian into Latin into English.
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