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“You never told me about it.”
“Because I didn’t want you to know!” Artemis paces, prowling in a tight circle around the sword on the ground. “They put us under a spell. But it felt real. I was absolutely sure it was all happening. And I had a choice. The choice was to save the world—or to save you. And I chose you.” She stops. Her shoulders, always so straight, slump. “I chose you, because how could I not? I saw your face when Mom took me instead of you. I could never bear to see that again. And how could they make me a Watcher knowing that, in the face of the hardest, most impossible choice, where only one option is right, I’d choose the selfish one?”
I’m so touched that she chose me and so horrified that she had to. And so angry that they put her through that, that choosing her family meant she lost the future she should have had.
I reach out to her. “Artemis, I—”
She shrugs my hand away and wipes under her eyes. I’m glad it’s dark. I’ve never seen her cry, and I know she wouldn’t want me to. “I can’t protect you anymore. You don’t need me to. And after everything I did, everything I gave to the Watchers, I haven’t been good enough, ever. I’m not a Watcher, and I’m not a Slayer. I’m too selfish.”
“It wasn’t selfish of you, Artemis. You love me. I love you. I’d choose you too.”
“Don’t you get it? You can’t! If you choose people you love over everything else, more people will die. And you probably will too. You have to be a better Slayer! You have to be the best one!”
“You didn’t even want me to be a Slayer!”
Artemis shakes her head. “You can’t give it up, though. And I can’t stop whatever’s going to come for you. I’m not strong enough. I chose you over the world and I’m terrified that I’m still going to have to watch you die. Slayers die. Nina, I’m going to lose you.”
She leans against the fence, sobbing. I run to her and put my arms around her. “You’re not. You’re not going to lose me.” All her anger, all her bossiness, her weird shifts between pretending I’m not a Slayer and demanding I be one. It’s because she’s been absolutely terrified this whole time. I don’t know what to say.
“Promise me,” she says, still shaking. “I don’t care about the world. Just promise me that if it’s between saving anyone else and saving yourself, you’ll save yourself. Please.”
“Artemis, I—”
“Promise me!” she shouts, no longer crying.
“I promise,” I whisper.
She nods, wiping under her eyes. “Good. Okay. I’m going back to the castle to make sure everyone there is safe.” She picks up her sword. Then she runs, jumps the fence, and disappears into the night.
Stunned, I wander back into the house. Rhys has moved Cillian down to the couch.
“How are you?” I ask.
“Sore. But alive.” He smiles at me, his eyes low and heavy with sleepiness. There’s a tightness around them that’s new, though, and it breaks my heart.
“Do you want to talk about it?”
“I really don’t.” He never talks to me about the real things, the scary things. I hope he talks to Rhys about them. We all need someone to tell the real things to. Artemis was my person.
And no one was hers. Except maybe Honora.
“Any sign of the demon?” Rhys asks.
“No.”
“Why would it go after Cillian, though? When there’s a whole village here? Was it Doug?”
“No. I don’t think so.”
Cillian nods in agreement. “It didn’t feel like him. His effect was far more pleasant. But I was never conscious for this, really. There was a dream I couldn’t wake up from. Heavy weight on my chest. Also I’m pretty sure the demon was, umm, interested in getting up close and personal with me in a romantic sense.”
“What?” Rhys and I both exclaim in unison.
“Nothing actually physical took place! There was just a . . . vibe to the whole thing. I would have told the demon that it was not my type, but I was frozen. Really not my idea of a good time.”
I grimace. “I had forgotten that part of the first dream. Old Smythe seemed pretty into it.”
“Forgot, or deliberately repressed?” Cillian asks.
