Chosen - Kiersten White Page 0,49
didn’t die; gods, I have got to stop thinking of his death that obviously didn’t happen. “I swear to every deity listening, if you say one more word, I will get you to the car by throwing you out the window.”
Leo’s lips twitch like they want to smile but can’t quite remember how. “You can’t.”
“Fine, not throw. Push. I can definitely push you out the window. And the likelihood of me doing that is getting higher every moment we—”
“Right, then.” Doug grabs Leo’s hand and maneuvers him up. He puts Leo’s arm around his shoulders. “It’s been a rough day. Let’s all walk calmly to the car; no defenestration necessary. Sweet hells, you are a heavy skeleton.”
Leo’s half human, half incubus. The earth recognizes he belongs in a hell dimension and pulls on him a little harder. Gravity is greedy like that. Doug and Leo stumble and make agonizingly slow progress down the hall. I follow, glaring at their backs.
“What about our host?” Doug asks, looking back.
“I took care of it.” I help Leo get into the van, avoiding his eyes. I’m glad I’m not riding with him. I don’t want to talk to him. Not yet. It’s still too raw, and I feel so betrayed. And part of me wants to snuggle in next to him and forgive him and not talk about it, which I refuse to do.
Chao-Ahn gets into the van. I take the passenger seat of our car, and we lead the way. Doug steers us out of the estate as dawn breaks on the horizon. We leave unchallenged, the gates gaping open from the happy-dosed employees’ neglect. I close my eyes and take careful breaths. Never mind that my sister is working with demon-snatching zealots, or that we didn’t figure out what this nameless threat is, or that I went against my mom’s wishes and confronted Von Alston.
Leo is alive. We saved the world’s weirdest werewolf and three Slayers. I should be relieved. I should be happy.
I should be.
ARTEMIS
AS SHE GETS OUT OF the car, Artemis thinks Ian Von Alston’s estate is like something out of a Jane Austen novel, if Jane were writing about a man who bought his nobility and used his wealth to hunt demons for sport instead of falling in love with someone slightly inappropriate. Actually, she would read that book. Nina would like it too.
Or she would have, before she went Team Demon. Artemis understands her sympathies, she really does, but there’s still a difference between humans and demons, and that line has to stay there. Pretending that her little demon utopia is even possible shows how naive Nina still is, how incapable of handling everything mystical forces have given her. And she accused Artemis of turning her back on their past? Artemis can’t forget, won’t forget what demons and vampires have cost her. Cost their family. Cost the whole world.
Just because some are benign doesn’t mean they aren’t still tumors growing where they don’t belong.
“Remind me why we had to bring the entourage?” Honora glares over her shoulder at Sean and three huge goons, plus the Sleeping One drifting distractedly behind them.
“Pardon me if I want to make sure we get what we need.” Sean smooths his ponytail. “Someone’s sister cost us a lot of supplies yesterday.”
Honora rolls her eyes. “Yeah, and someone threw her off a moving vehicle. You had better not be questioning our loyalty. I’m the one who found this lead.”
Sean holds up his hands. “Certainly not questioning you, pet. But this demon is the key to everything. Boss wants to make sure we get the right merchandise this time. No more mistakes or false hope.”
The Sleeping One makes eye contact with them. “I am without so much. I cannot stand the emptiness, the silence. Can you feel time eating at you? An infestation, like maggots, devouring you from the inside out.” He holds out his hands, long fingers splayed. “I can see the decay that will claim me in another thirty, forty years. The blink of an eye.”
“Can the decay hurry up so we don’t have to listen to you anymore?” Honora lets out a long, annoyed breath, then pounds on the front door to the manor. An ancient butler answers it. “We’re expected.” Honora walks in right past him. Artemis follows with the rest of their entourage behind them.
A white man with a severely broken nose and some suspect bruising around his neck is sitting in a leather chair in a study. He stands,