Slayer (Slayer #1)

“You’re so stale,” a voice like shadows croons. And then it pauses, slowly turning toward me. I open my mouth to scream, and—

• • •

“I don’t know!” Artemis shouts. “Nina’s the one who knows everything about concussions.”

“Uneven pupils,” I groan. I try to sit up but can’t. Why am I on the floor? “Unconsciousness. Dizziness. Confusion. Are you okay? How did you get a concussion?”

Rhys shoves his face right in front of mine. “Well, that makes three out of four. Let me see your pupils.”

“No!” I jerk my head away, which makes it swim. “They’re mine! Did anyone check on Cosmina?”

“Athena,” Leo says, and I freeze. Oh no. No no no. The nunchucks.

“I’m fine! I remember what happened.” Unfortunately. I allow Rhys to stare at my eyeballs until he’s satisfied they’re the same dilation. “You aren’t supposed to be here,” I say.

“Leo ran out for help. I was the first person he saw. So I guess I know you’re training now.” Rhys grins at me. I’m relieved he knows. We can trust him, and I don’t want any extra secrets right now. The ones I have are plenty. Artemis presses an ice pack to my forehead. I’m annoyed, because that means she rifled through my things in the clinic. That is my place. I’m also annoyed that Eve has joined us. She’s watching everything with a concerned eye, but at least she’s not fussing. I’d be even more embarrassed if she were.

“So maybe we’ll start with something more basic and practical than nunchucks.” Leo holds out a hand to help me up, but I use Artemis’s instead.

“Who is Cosmina?” Eve asks.

“Blue hair. Kidnapped by vampires.” I pause, frowning. “We don’t know anyone named Cosmina, do we?”

Concerned, Artemis leans in to examine my pupils too. “No, we don’t.”

I gently push her away. “Just weird dreams. They seemed so real. Have you seen Bradford Smythe around?”

“I saw him at breakfast,” Artemis says.

“And he looked . . . fine?”

“Well, as fine as the crusty old man ever looks. Why?”

“No reason.” So that rules out prophetic dreams. Though I’m not sure if he was actually threatened or not. He seemed to be enjoying—whatever was happening. I shudder.

Artemis frowns thoughtfully. “Although, now that you mention it, he was a bit paler than usual. I think all this stress with you turning out to be a Slayer and the hellhound may be starting to get to him—”

“Bradford has weathered worse,” Eve interjects. “It’s his job to handle this stress and far more. Let’s stay on target. Time may be of the essence here.” She purses her dark-stained lips. “This Cosmina—you say she’s been kidnapped? Do you think it may have been a Slayer dream?”

I tenderly probe the borders of the goose egg on my forehead. It’ll be nice to be reminded of this newest embarrassment every time I look in the mirror. If being a Slayer does nothing else for me, please let it heal this bruise in record time.

“Umm, maybe? There was a lot happening. Flashes of things I couldn’t quite understand with vampires, and Buffy, and a—” I grimace, my thoughts suddenly back to Bradford Smythe. That one I’ll chalk right up to the head injury. “Part of it definitely wasn’t.”

“So this Cosmina, do you think she was a Slayer?”

I grasp for the remnants of the dream. The picture on her wall. Mentioning Buffy. And the vampires . . . “She could have been? Yeah. Probably a Slayer. And if that part’s true, then maybe the rest was. She needs help.” I know it in a way I can’t explain.

Fortunately, judging by the look on Eve’s face, I don’t have to. “How can we find her?” she asks. Leo shuffles his feet, something shutting off in his face. He must be deferring to her. So even though he’s my Watcher, she’s still in charge of him. I like that. I trust Eve. And I’ve never written a single poem about her.

“Do we need to find her?” Artemis bites her lip, clearly debating something internally. I don’t need twin instincts to tell me she has information she wishes she didn’t.

“I don’t think I would have dreamed about her if she didn’t need help.” I remember the other dream I had, the one with the Slayer and the demon horde. “The last time I dreamed about a Slayer, she died. In the dream. But Cosmina wasn’t dead yet. Maybe that means she can still be saved.” I say it thinking Eve and Artemis will do the saving. My mouth goes dry as I realize it was my dream. My responsibility. I’m not ready to be super-saving girl.

“So it’s life-or-death,” Artemis says.

“I mean, I can’t be positive. But it felt life-or-death.” I want Artemis to believe in me. I need her to. She’s always been the one who’s there for me, the one who has my back. I’ve never had the chance to have hers, not in any meaningful way. And I know she’s worried I’m not ready to be a Slayer, but if I can save Cosmina—if I can prove that I can be a good Slayer by helping people instead of just hurting them—maybe she’ll feel better about it. Maybe I will too.

Artemis sighs. “I know how we can find her. There’s a . . . database. Of Slayers.”