Slayer(35)

“I can determine that on my own. You aren’t needed for this, Nina. I thought that was apparent outside.”

“I can—”

She finally turns around. There’s a smile pasted onto her face. It’s almost as repellent as the gun—just as cold and metallic. “Sweetheart, take the day off. It’s been a confusing time for you. Go read or paint your nails. Or you must have some chores to handle in your clinic.”

“You’ve never cared about my clinic.”

“That’s absurd. I’m the one who suggested that course of study in the first place.”

“Why did you, if you knew I was a Potential? You sabotaged me!”

“Sabotaged?” She has the audacity to look hurt, and for a second, she almost—almost—meets my eye. But right as she comes close, a shadow passes over her face and she lifts her chin. “I am a member of the Council and your mother. Everything I do is for the good of the Watchers. Don’t question my decisions.” And then she walks away. Again.

I stare after her, trembling with emotion. Then I lift my middle finger at her back.

“Um. Hey.”

Leo is standing in the door to the training room. Which is where my mother and I had our entire conversation, in perfect hearing range. His hands are shoved in his pockets as he leans against the door frame. “She’s jet-lagged,” he says. “It was a long trip back.”

“Don’t make excuses for her.” I hastily wipe under my eyes. I cannot handle another humiliation. And tears in front of Leo—the star of my greatest humiliation ever? Not happening. I won’t let him see what my mother obviously sees: That I’m weak. That I don’t deserve to be a Slayer. That no one needs me to be one.

When she first assigned me to the medical branch of study, I was proud. It felt like she noticed I’d be good at it, and I worked so hard in order to prove her right. But she was really just putting me out of sight, out of mind. Where no one would ever see my potential.

Including me.

I stomp past him into the room. I barely got any sleep last night, but I’m as buzzed as if I’d had four cups of tea. I want to hit something. “I’m ready.”

He follows, taking his time. “Watcher mums are . . . hard. Even the good ones.”

“You’re lucky you have a good one.”

“I meant your mum.”

I snort. “Well, you obviously don’t know her.”

“No, I don’t, I guess. But I’ve been alone with mine for three years. It was—” His face darkens, then he shakes it off. “I’m just saying . . . what I was trying to say earlier. That I’m glad to be back. I feel lucky to be back here with you. With all of you. The happiest times of my life were when I was training.”

Ugh, I do not want to soften toward him. But I think about what he said, and I wonder what he’s been through in the last few years, out there on his own with Eve. He’s probably lived through trauma I can’t begin to imagine.

“Well, some of us didn’t get to train. So let’s make up for that now.” I gesture meaningfully to the walls. I still wish that none of this were happening—that I didn’t have this simmering, powerful force inside me. It doesn’t escape my notice that I should be exhausted and instead my body feels . . . disappointed that I didn’t get to fight.

My mother took control away from me again with the hellhound. I don’t want that to happen anymore. I can use my power to be who I want to be.

And now a part of me wants to turn into the baddest, most kick-assingest Slayer ever. Then I can rub my prowess in my mother’s face.

So: priorities. Change this disaster into something okayish by training so I can take full advantage of whatever I am. And prove my mom wrong by doing so.

Leo positions himself in the center of a wide mat that takes up most of the floor. There’s a hint of stubble along his narrow jaw. His cheeks hide the dimples I know are there, lurking beneath the surface. The dark circles under his eyes are new, though. He gives me a gentle smile.

I want to hit him. Hard. I should have asked Artemis how she sprained Jade’s ankle.

I hate the violence coursing through my veins. But I still remember the way it felt that horrible poetry day, seeing Leo return to practice as though nothing had happened. I can’t reject his help, though. No matter how much I want to. So I steel myself and pretend like I’m not the kid crying on the balcony anymore. Because I’m not.

I’m a Slayer.

Leo finally clues in to my body language and stops smiling. “Your natural instincts and strength are already there. We can’t teach you those—and we don’t have to. But what we can teach you is technique. Drill into you the best ways to react, the best ways to hit, so that, combined with your inherent Slayer abilities, you’ll be as efficient and capable a fighter as possible. We’ll also focus on weapon training.”

Weapon training. Ugh, of course. I avoid them all except stakes. I guess that has to change now. As long as I’m going against my nature, I might as well choose the last thing I’d ever decide to pick up. I grab a wickedly heavy-looking set of nunchucks. “Sounds good.” I spin them experimentally, then faster. They blur in the air. I’m going to show Leo I’m not the innocent, weak little girl he remembers.

The last thing I see is one of the wooden clubs coming right for my face before everything goes black.