Slayer (Slayer #1)

“Aww, that’s fun! We’ll have to trade stories. And Wheezy can tell us the latest techniques in removing splinters and fixing up owies.” She tosses her hair over her shoulder. “Just kidding. I do think the medical center is a good idea. Love to see it later. I’m going to get breakfast and talk to the olds. Don’t read any good poems without me.” She sweeps out.

Leo’s hand brushes my own. “Athena,” he says, his voice soft.

I’m clenching my fists so hard they’re shaking. I don’t want to talk about this.

“She has a mean streak, and she was always jealous of you.”

I grimace. “Jealous? Why would she be jealous of me? I was nobody. I was the other Jamison-Smythe twin. The one who couldn’t do anything.”

“Exactly.” Leo takes the broom and starts cleaning up the split punching bag we had forgotten about. “Honora didn’t want to be a Watcher. But her mother put a lot of pressure on her. Everything she did was measured against her family. She was the one who was going to redeem them. To bring honor back to the Wyndam-Pryces.”

“I still don’t see how that makes her jealous of me.”

“Your mom didn’t push you to be in Watcher training or punish you for not being the best.”

“Because she was trying to keep me from doing anything that might make me a good Slayer.”

“Whatever the reasons, Honora didn’t see it that way. She saw a girl who was happy in the middle of all the Watcher misery.” He sets the broom down. “I’m not defending her. But she lashed out because she hated that you had things she never would. Even back then, you were . . . different. Special. Everything that had happened to you, everything you had lost, and you still managed to be the brightest part of any room.” He smiles full-dimples, and my heart cracks. The fissures undo all the work I’ve done to shut him out these last three years. Thirteen-year-old me crows triumphantly that he really did see me back then. Part of my humiliation—the part that was certain he thought I was stupid—finally dissolves.

I put on my sternest face, ignoring thirteen-year-old me but allowing myself to forgive Leo a little. “Honora’s still the worst, though.”

Leo laughs. “Oh, absolutely.”

I hug the journals tighter to my chest. “So we’re totally clear, though, she changed that poem. I would never write something dirty about you.”

“Never?” he asks, and there’s a teasing note to his voice that shocks us both. His face turns as red as mine feels. “Sorry,” he stammers.

I can’t help the laugh that bursts free. Was Leo . . . flirting with me? Even though he was always nice to me, there was never a hint of flirtation when we were younger. I would have noticed. But we’re both older. We’ve been apart for a long time. And what’s in his voice now when he talks to me—it’s something that feels a whole lot like how Rhys talks to Cillian.

I clear my throat, not knowing how to react to Leo Silvera flirting. With me. “Well, I wouldn’t have written anything like that when I was thirteen. I barely knew what ‘orgasm’ meant. Watcher education isn’t really big on the whole birds-and-the-bees aspects of human development. Not that I didn’t know. Or that I don’t know. But I’m going to stop talking right now and go ahead and leave and maybe never come back.” I’ve been backing slowly toward the door since I hit “orgasm” and knew my mouth wasn’t going to stop in time to save me.

Leo’s smile is blinding, the most genuine expression I’ve seen on his face since he came back. He lifts a hand to his mouth as though he can’t believe it’s there either, touching the corner of his lips.

Confused but happy, I head for my room.

Leo’s right. I always did have something to be jealous of. I had Artemis, and I still do. And she’s definitely the best Watcher in the castle, test be damned. It’s time to tell her about the demon in Cillian’s shed. As Artemis reminded me last night, we’re better when we figure things out together. I might not have my dad, but I have her. I won’t neglect that anymore.

But I skid to a stop in my doorway. The door is open, and through it I can see Artemis.

And Honora.

She’s sitting on Artemis’s bed, and Artemis is beaming. If the age difference that used to separate Leo and me isn’t a barrier anymore, it isn’t for Honora and Artemis either. And Artemis has always crushed on Honora.

I shove the door so it bounces hard against the wall. Artemis jumps, then waves her hands excitedly. “Look who’s here!”

“I already saw Nina.” Honora smiles at me with all the fake sweetness of a Diet Coke. She never called me Wheezy around Artemis. And I never told Artemis about the poem incident. I should have. Obviously. I should have told Artemis a lot of things. I was on my way to making this better, but Honora is in our room. How can I bring up the Coldplay demon now?

“I thought you were going to breakfast,” I say.

“How could I when I hadn’t even visited Artemis yet?” Honora turns back to my sister. “God. I’ve been gone so long. You’re like a totally different person. I was a hag from thirteen until seventeen, but you’re gorgeous.”

Artemis blushes. I want to vomit.

“Seriously,” Honora continues, reaching out and playing with a curl that’s fallen free from Artemis’s ponytail. “Don’t tell me you’ve also gotten faster, smarter, and stronger, too, or I’ll be so jealous I’ll have to kill you.”

I mime puking behind Honora’s back. Artemis catches me and glares. “Let’s go get breakfast while Nina changes.”

I don’t want to follow them. But there’s no way I’m leaving Honora with full access to the castle and my sister. And I’ve got to sneak back to the shed to determine whether the demon is, in fact, as dangerous as Honora says. But it doesn’t feel right.