Slayer (Slayer #1)

“Yes!” I stop, take a deep breath. “No. But, gods, are you really so desperate to replace me that you’ll find the nearest Slayer and bring her in instead?”

“That’s not what this is about.”

“That’s exactly what this is about! Well, guess what, Mom? Producing another Slayer won’t change anything. I was already Chosen. Past tense. It’s done. You might hate it, you might hate me, but like you said: It doesn’t matter.” I turn on my heel and stomp out of the fancy residence wing.

I almost run into Artemis in the main hall. Her face is flushed, sweat on her forehead. “No sign of the demon. Or Honora.”

Rhys walks past us, chipper and oblivious. “Come on,” he says. “We’re going to be late for class.”

Class? It feels almost laughable right now to behave like students when we’re already deep into real-world scenarios. “Where’s Cillian?” I ask Rhys. “He’s okay?”

“High as a kite. I left him in my room to rest. In the meantime, I’m going to class, where you can fill me in on what you and my boyfriend have been up to.” He doesn’t sound happy with me. I don’t blame him. I violated his trust and put Cillian at risk.

“I’m sorry,” I mutter.

“Class,” Rhys snaps.

It feels tremendously unimportant, but Leo didn’t follow me out of the residence wing, so I can’t train with him. I could go out and search for Doug, but Artemis is watching me, perched like a hawk ready to swoop in. And I don’t want Rhys any madder at me.

“Great.” I force the words out. “Let’s go to class.”

Artemis slips into the library a few minutes after us, not sitting next to me. Her arms are folded, her lips forming a tight, stern line. Rhys is scribbling in a manner that can only be described as aggressive. Poor Imogen stumbles through her lecture on the difficulties of translating runes into verbal language.

I’m churning with anger too. Honora. My mother. Cosmina. Maybe it’s selfish of me—definitely it’s selfish of me, knowing what I do about Cosmina’s life—but I don’t want her here. First boarding school, now a new Slayer. My mother is determined to make sure I have no place in the castle.

I flip through my notes but pause when I get to my last entry. It was the prophecy translation assignment. My eyes bug out as I read it.

Child of Slayer

Child of Watcher

The two become one

The one becomes two

Girls of fire

Protector and Hunter

One to mend the world

And one to tear it asunder

When all else ends, when hope perishes alongside wonder, her darkness shall rise and all shall be devoured.

Suddenly it’s personal. “Child of Watcher, Child of Slayer” didn’t mean anything before. But now I know the truth of my family history. My father was a child of a Watcher. My mother wasn’t.

And my father mentioned a prophecy in his diary that seemed of personal concern to him and my family.

I stand. “Artemis.”

Imogen stops midsentence, alarmed by the expression on my face. “Is everything okay?”

“I need to talk to Artemis. Now.” I grab my notes and hurry out of the library. Artemis is behind me. I’m relieved. I worried she wouldn’t come. When we get back to our room, I slam the door and throw my notes onto the bed. “Look at this prophecy.”

Artemis rubs her forehead. “With everything else going on, I hardly think me helping you cheat on translations is a priority.”

“No, that’s not— The prophecy! It’s about a child of a Watcher and a child of a Slayer having two girls who will go on to break the world!” I jab my finger at it. “Gods, Artemis, look at it. It could be—it might be—it could be us. There’s no timeline, but we should at least talk about it.”