Chosen - Kiersten White Page 0,4

this mom who is open about caring about me? It’s new, and, like being a Slayer, or my anger or my guilt or my grief, I still don’t know how to react. So instead of telling her to be careful too, I default to something less emotionally fraught. As soon as I start joking, I know it’s the wrong choice, but it just keeps going, and I can’t stop it.

“Yeah, we should totally take that up with our ancient ancestors who created the Slayer line. Bulletproof would have been useful to add alongside prophetic dreams, superstrength, and killer instincts. Though I guess bullets would have been an unfamiliar concept on account of this all happened thousands of years ago.”

“Oh, for goodness’ sake, be careful, Nina.”

I take a deep breath. I wanted my mother to be mine for so long. Now I have to be strong enough to let her be, to trust that this won’t go away. “I will be. Promise. You too.” I hang up. Cillian, Rhys, and Doug are all waiting for instructions. Tsip has wandered over too.

“Can you teleport me?” I ask her.

“Yes!” The fangs jutting from her lower jaw are showcased in an enthusiastic smile. “But I can only teleport short distances. And you have to be able to reconstitute yourself after being disintegrated on a molecular level while shifting through the void beyond reality. It hurts quite a bit, but you get used to it.”

“I’ll drive then, yeah?” Cillian grabs the keys and starts the car.

Doug looks scared but determined. “Sean?” The fact that he’s willing to come and face the man who held him captive for years speaks volumes about him.

I put my hand on his arm and shake my head. “Mercenaries. With guns. I don’t think you’re going to be any use. Wake Jade up and make sure you’re all on alert while I’m gone, okay?”

Doug nods, holding a hand up in farewell. Tsip waves energetically as we pull away.

“The void beyond reality?” Cillian navigates the forest dirt road far faster than is safe. “Demons. Total nutters, the lot of them.”

“I like Doug.” Rhys checks his crossbow.

I bounce impatiently in the back. “Everyone likes Doug. He’s biologically impossible to dislike.” We always pick a destination with several roads in and out so we can’t be traced, so the warehouse is thirty minutes away. Thirty minutes is thirty minutes too far, though.

“What are we going into here?” Cillian drives at double the speed limit. I’m grateful, and I wish he would go even faster. But we don’t have our get-out-of-tickets-free Doug in the car with us, so we’re risking a police encounter as it is.

“Mercenaries. Two snipers. They have my mom pinned down in the warehouse.”

“Plan?”

“The plan is Cillian stops before we get there and stays in the car.”

“Hey now, I can—”

I cut him off. “I can only focus on saving so many people at a time. I can’t worry about you, too.” It comes out harsher than I intend it, but it’s true. Cillian is one of my favorite people in the world, and he almost died last fall because of it. His dark brown eyes meet mine in the rearview mirror. He nods.

Rhys turns back toward me. He forgot his glasses. His crossbow is going to be pretty useless if he can’t see to use it. I want to make him stay in the car with Cillian. But he’s a Watcher. This is his job too.

No. It’s only my job. I’m the Slayer. “Rhys, you’ll take the alleys to cut around to the back of the warehouse. Get a high vantage point and make certain there aren’t any more waiting there for an ambush. I’ll find the snipers and take them out.”

I’m confident I can get it done before Rhys ever gets to his position. I can keep them all safe. I can keep everyone safe.

The image of Leo, unconscious on the floor, disappearing behind the ever-expanding remora demon to meet the same crushed-to-death fate as his mother flashes in my mind, contradicting me with brutal accuracy.

I can, though. I have to. I’m never losing anyone again.

Cillian slows down on the outskirts of the old fishing district where the warehouse is. I open my door and jump, hitting the ground running.

The sound of a bullet pinging off metal is all the direction I need. I don’t worry about cover. I run as fast as I can, and, gods, it’s fast. My red-gold hair streams behind me, my emerald-green trench coat flapping in