Slayer(24)

A face pops into view and I scream, almost falling backward. My scream has a mirror image in Artemis. Then she scrunches up her face and shouts.

“What the hell are you thinking?”

“Obviously I wasn’t!”

She gestures at the window hinges. I’m blocking its ability to swing outward.

“Give me a sec.” I lean out, trying not to think about the empty air below me. The stone above the window cavity is rough enough that I manage to find finger holds. I climb a few feet up the wall, holding myself above the ledge.

“Come on!” Artemis says. Her voice is no longer blocked by the glass.

I swing myself down and through, landing in a crouch on our rug.

“Did you forget we have a door?” she says, unamused. “What’s wrong with you? You could have been hurt!”

“But I wasn’t. I handled it.”

“Because I was here to open the window! What would you have done if I wasn’t here?”

“I would have—”

She waves a hand, cutting me off. “You have no idea what you would have done. Because I’m always here. You can’t act like things are different now. They’re not.”

I match her glare. “They are. Everything’s different.”

“Nothing is different! Nothing is ever different. If you keep pretending like you’re a superhero, you’re going to get hurt. You’re the one who was always talking about how violence isn’t a gift or even a tool—it’s a crutch. How Slayers get so focused on killing that they never think things through, like it’s possible to talk things out with demons or something.”

“I never said—”

She cuts me off again. “And then there’s your lectures about how we need to be smart and cautious. Prioritize other solutions, like my fight training was somehow something to be ashamed of. But as soon as you get some strength, all that flies out the window, just like you!”

Her words sting. “Technically I jumped into the window, not out.”

She doesn’t smile at the joke. “Don’t you get it, Nina? You never trained. You’re like a loaded weapon in a child’s hands. Dangerous to everyone, most especially you. You should have run from the hellhound, not attacked. How am I supposed to protect you from yourself?”

My plan to tell her about the demon slinks away. When presented with a demonic problem, I decided to come straight back to Artemis and dump it on her. I don’t want to prove her right. I’ve depended on her for so many years. But how much of it was me actually needing her, and how much of it was just doing what we’ve always done?

Besides, she definitely would think I’m an idiot for waiting for this demon to wake up so we can talk it out, exactly like she said. I can’t trust her not to hurt the demon before we have more info. Not when she’s already so worked up about protecting me.

I’m not telling her. A few months ago, living with secrets from her would have been unfathomable. But after the last two months of having to hide my constant fear of the changes inside me, this almost feels natural.

I unlace my sneakers, trying to act like I’m not hiding anything. Trying to act like her words didn’t hurt. “I came in through the window because I didn’t want to see anyone. If you hadn’t opened it, I would have jumped back down and gone around to the front. It’s not a big deal.”

“Why did you leave in the first place? I called you.”

Thank goodness it was her and not someone else. “I couldn’t deal after what we heard the Council talking about. And I didn’t want to take your hiding spot in the passages, so I went outside.”

She softens ever so slightly, then flips her ponytail away from her shoulder. “Next time you decide to bolt, tell me first. I didn’t know where you were. Also, this was under our door when I got back.” She holds out a thick cream-colored note. Artemis has already broken the seal, even though my name is on the front. Someone has elegantly written the following:

Nina.

Please meet at 5 a.m. in the training center. Due to certain Council politics, discretion is necessary. Until then, sleep well and remember the power of your dreams.

It’s such precise cursive it looks like someone old wrote it. It must be from Bradford Smythe. He has answers. He’s the one who knew I was a Potential to begin with. And, unlike my mother, he’ll talk to me about it. I want to ask Artemis why she opened my note, but I don’t want any more tension between us. I try to lighten the mood instead. “?‘Remember the power of your dreams’? That’s the dumbest aphorism I’ve ever heard. Is it supposed to be inspiring?”

“I think it’s supposed to be literal.” Artemis sits cross-legged on her bed with her back against the wall. “Slayer dreams. You know. Tapping into the power connects the whole line of Slayers.”

“Right. Yeah. Slayer dreams.” I say it with so much false enthusiasm that Artemis immediately knows I’m lying. Her eyes narrow. I flop onto my bed and pull my pillow over my face. “I don’t know what those are. I didn’t take advanced Slayer classes, remember?” I only ever studied the basics. Maybe my mother was worried the teachers would figure out what I was really destined to be. Maybe she was worried I would figure it out.

If I weren’t a Potential, would I have been pushed into full Watcher training like Artemis? A different life opens up before me. One where I mattered in Watcher society. One where I would have been given the ear of the Council, able to have voice and influence.