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“I’ve got your back.” Imogen smiles.
I push the door open and slip inside, closing it softly behind myself and resting my forehead against it, trying to calm my breathing. Maybe Leo is asleep. Maybe I can’t talk to him right now. Maybe I’ll come back tomorrow. Maybe—
“Athena?”
I’d rather face a horde of vampires right now. Even broody ones. But I turn around. Leo’s propped up on a cot, and the sight of him is like a blow to the stomach. He looks worse than I remember. His eyes are sunken, the skin around them the color of old bruises. His jawline is sharper than ever, cheekbones sticking out over hollow cheeks. He’s wrapped in a blanket, but even his position screams frailty and illness. Leo was always so assured, so confident. Even the way he moved. He’s so much lessened that my nerves are swallowed up by concern.
I want to lie next to him and stroke his hair until he’s strong again. The impulse is almost overwhelming. But we’re not there yet. Maybe we never were. Maybe we never will be again.
“Hey.” I cross the tiny room in two steps and sit on the chair next to his cot instead of crawling on and holding him. “You look awful.”
“You look lovely.”
I laugh. It comes out sharp and braying because of my nerves. “Sure. So. Last time I saw you in person, you were unconscious on the floor and about to be crushed by the remora demon. Mind filling me in?”
He closes his eyes and smiles. His eyelids look too thin. I remember how soft his lips were; they still look the same.
“When I woke up and saw the remora filling the room, my first thought was how proud of you I was.”
“Really?”
He cracks one dark eye open. “Well. No. My first thought was Oh god, I’m going to die. But my second thought was how proud I was of how clever and strong you are. You stopped her with nothing but yourself. No powers. No mystical Slayer abilities. Just you. And then my third thought was a refrain of Oh god, oh god, I’m going to die.”
I try not to laugh, and instead put on my sternest face. “But you didn’t.”
“No. There was a door along the back wall. I made it in time.”
“Why didn’t you come out and find us?”
He sighs, sinking deeper into his pillow. “I never should have come to the castle in the first place. I put you all in danger. I knew what my mother was, who she was. But … she was still my mum, you know?”
Instead of my own mother, I think of Artemis in that truck. I could have stopped them. I didn’t. I was so distracted by the fact it was Artemis doing the bad thing that I didn’t do everything I could to stop it. “Yeah. I know.”
“When she promised that she wasn’t going to hurt any of you, I let myself believe her. Both because I hoped she was something other than a monster, and because I wanted to come back. To be part of the Watchers again. I wanted to be with you. With all of you. And I let that selfishness blind me. People died. People got hurt. You got hurt. So I decided I’d never let myself be the reason you get hurt again.”
“Didn’t you think your death would hurt me? I haven’t been the same since! I’ve been—” My fists are clenched so tightly they ache. I’m almost shaking. Somehow instead of feeling sad, I keep diverting to rage.
He shifts, grimacing. “I figured you’d get over it.”
“It took me years to get over you the first time, and you didn’t even die then!” I flinch, biting my lip and wishing I could take that back. A ghost of a smile parts his lips. He lifts a hand like he might take mine. Then he looks down at it—slender fingers rendered near-skeletal—and puts it back on his cot. I almost reach for it, but I don’t.
“Well, I did come back. I had to return what was taken. I owed you that much, at least.”
“And that gave me hope! But then you never came back for real, so I was just confused and alone dealing with …” I run my hands through my hair, then I stand, pacing the tiny space. “First of all, thank you. That was nice of you to return my things. Pretty standard breakup procedure, I guess. Bringing back a box of sweaters. Books. Ancient demonic-based powers.”
“Wouldn’t fit in a cardboard box.”
I snort. “Not so much.” I have to ask him about why the Slayer powers feel different. I have to find out if it’s me, or if he felt it too. Maybe they got broken from too many transfers. Or maybe they were always this, but I hadn’t suffered enough to really feel what they were like. I wish I could talk to Buffy. At least I have Leo now. “But here’s the thing. When you—”
“I’m sorry I kissed you,” he rushes. “I shouldn’t have. I didn’t deserve that moment. But I really thought I’d never see you again. And it was the only way I could think of to transfer the power. I’ve never really done it before. Transferred power, I mean. Obviously I’ve kissed you before.” His pale skin flushes, and I could almost laugh at making Leo Silvera blush. Almost.
The cell phone rings in my pocket, and I jump, startled. My eyes were locked on his lips. Honestly, Nina. I pull out the phone. “Hello? Artemis?”
“I’m—I was told you help demons in trouble?” Not Artemis. I deflate.
“Sort of. Sometimes. What kind of demon, what kind of trouble?”
“Oh. Right. Well, I’d rather not say what kind, and the trouble is I think I’m being hunted. A lot of us are.”
