Slayer (Slayer #1)

He shakes his head. “I thought someone should offer alternatives to training as a Slayer. It seemed like you didn’t want to. You shouldn’t have to do anything you aren’t comfortable with or ready for.”

I can’t blame him for picking up on the truth. Be that as it may, his speed to dismiss me was telling. He’s acting like it was about what I wanted, but I suspect it’s more about him still seeing me as a pathetic child. “All Watchers have to do things we might not be ready for. Artemis always had to. I shouldn’t be an exception. If this is what the Council wants, then it’s my responsibility.” I might be fronting a tad. But I refuse to have the same power dynamic here that I always have—mainly that everyone else has all the power.

Leo’s voice is firm again, all hesitation gone. “The Council shouldn’t count more than you. Ever. That’s my first piece of advice.”

“As my Watcher?”

“As your friend.”

“I’m going to change my clothes,” I snap. “And then we can train as Watcher and Slayer. Not friends.” His face falls as I leave the room. For a moment I feel guilty, especially since he really was picking up on how I was feeling. And it does mean something—however small—that he believed I was strong even back when no one else had any reason to. But I steel myself. I don’t want anything from Leo Silvera. If he has to be my Watcher, fine. But he’ll never be my friend again. I owe that much to my past self.

• • •

Leo and Honora were sixteen. Artemis, Rhys, and I were thirteen. Unlike Artemis, Rhys had passed his Watcher trials the year before.

Those in line for active Watcher (and future Council) status faced a series of tests, both practical and mystical, to determine whether they’d be approved for training. There were loads of different positions within the Watcher society, but all of them—special ops, mystical consultants, nurses, librarians—were subordinate to full Watchers. Being an active Watcher was the goal.

When she didn’t pass the test, Artemis became an errand girl. An understudy of sorts. I wanted her to join me in my medic and first aid studies, but our mother had sent a note that it would be “a waste of her abilities,” even though it apparently wasn’t a waste of mine.

Rhys was already stressing out about his Watcher project, an in-depth study presented to the Council. Most famously, Wesley Wyndam-Pryce had done a genealogy tracing the sirings of vampires all the way back to the original demon that created them. It took seventeen days to present. Rhys always spoke of it with a wistful, dreamy look, as though he wished he had been old enough to attend.

Another Watcher had done a study of a vampire named William the Bloody. I tried to read it once, but Artemis took it from me, saying it was inappropriate. Even though she was the same age and had obviously read it. She wasn’t fully a Watcher-in-training, but she still had access to information I didn’t.

Leo and Honora had passed their trials three years before. They were well into the training, nearly ready to accomplish their final tests and be granted full Watcher status. It would be years before they’d be able to apply for Council positions, but they were both on their way.

Part of their responsibilities was overseeing the magical and physical training of Rhys. Artemis mostly worked alongside Rhys, the idea being that she’d eventually be his assistant.

She was still lucky, in a way. Close to the things that mattered. Jade had been shuffled off to magical special ops. Imogen, like me, wasn’t even allowed to test.

We sat together sometimes, when Imogen wasn’t on nanny duty. We’d climb up to the balcony overlooking the training room. With our legs stuck through the bannister rails, we’d lean our foreheads against it and watch those lucky enough to train for things we’d never get to do.

“Aren’t you mad?” I asked her once.

She shrugged. “It was nice of them to let me stay. I don’t have anywhere else to go. And I’m not like my mother. I don’t want power. I want to help. So if me taking care of the Littles while their parents do important things helps? I’m glad I can do it.”

I liked Imogen, but I didn’t understand her. I would have been pissed. I was pissed. I watched my sister training with a body that should have been identical to mine, and I envied her. I wanted that same level of ease in my skin. For our thirteenth birthday, my mother had given Artemis weapons. She’d given me DVD collections of ER and Chicago Hope.

At first it felt disappointing, but then portentous. I could do something. I could have a role. That was when I gave up my previous hobby and started learning all the ways human bodies could be broken—and all the ways I could fix them. It was just as important as, if not more important than, knowing how to hurt things.

Unfortunately, my previous hobby had been poetry. And it had all been focused on the crush I had nurtured since the year before, when Leo had shown up, saved me, and made my body realize that not only were boys super cute, he was the super cutest of all boys. Every part of me felt electrocuted around him. I filled notebook after notebook with doodles of his name and poetry dedicated to him. I didn’t interact with Leo much, but whenever I did, he was so nice, it left me floating for days. Sometimes we’d eat lunch in the dorm cafeteria on the same day. Once, six months before, he had been given two oatmeal-chocolate-chip cookies. Any day with chocolate instead of raisins was a treat. When he walked by, he slipped the extra one onto my tray. I saved that cookie until it crumbled.

There weren’t too many of us, even back then. Rhys, Artemis, Jade, and me. Imogen. Leo and Honora. A few trainees a year or two older than them. And then a gap until the Littles. But whenever Leo noticed me, I felt special. That was real magic.

One day I was quietly studying alone on the balcony when Artemis dumped a stack of spell books on the training room’s floor. I glanced over, uninterested. They didn’t know I was up there. I wasn’t supposed to be in the room when they did magic practice. But I’d often stay, quiet, trying to sneak peeks into the aspects of our world that were hidden from me.

“I found every book I could that wasn’t in the library,” Artemis said. “We had some boxed up in our rooms. Maybe my dad’s old books.”

“Ooh.” Honora sat down next to Artemis. “This could be good! They’re so restrictive in what they’ll even let us look at.”

I hated Honora Wyndam-Pryce. Artemis idolized her. Honora was wickedly clever, her tongue as sharp as the knives she specialized in. She was smart and deadly, and when Artemis wasn’t around, she called me Wheezy on account of my asthma. She acted like it was a pet name. But I already had a pet name. I didn’t need one that felt mean.

Plus, she was a Wyndam-Pryce. The whole family was insufferable.

I chose to ignore Honora, focusing instead on Leo. He was sword training with Rhys. His movements were fluid and graceful. He made me feel like I was having an asthma attack in my heart.

“I’ll go grab our lunches,” Artemis said. She walked back out, and I returned to my paramedic manuals. My dad had died from a bullet to the brain. I couldn’t have fixed that. But there were a lot of things I could fix, if I knew how. And I’d learn them all. Except the magical ways, of course, because my mom still kept those off-limits.

That’s why I didn’t see when Honora picked up a book that should not have been there.