Chosen - Kiersten White Page 0,7
draping down like shiny curtains, obscuring the light of her face. She’s paging idly through a selection of brochures spread out on the floor.
“… kind of a creep, but aren’t they all? He pays well. We could make enough in a couple months for tuition for at least a year. Ooh, this is a proper campus—just look at that ivy. I know it’s not practical, but I always kind of wanted to go into communications. PR. Isn’t that daft?” She turns her head to look at Artemis, making a face to hide her vulnerability.
Artemis smiles so Honora knows she’s not teasing. “I don’t think that’s daft. You’d kick ass at a PR firm. And if things didn’t go your way, you’d also kick ass, just literally.”
Honora laughs and goes back to the brochures. The plan is to do some demon-hunting jobs—Honora still has plenty of connections, even though she doesn’t work with Sean anymore—and earn enough to put themselves through college. Artemis isn’t old enough, technically, but Honora also knows someone who can fake documents to give Artemis all the A levels and identity requirements she needs to apply. Artemis didn’t exactly take time to grab her birth certificate before running out on the castle, the Watchers, her mother, her sister, and everything she’d ever known and worked toward.
“Hey, Moon, what’s wrong?”
Artemis forces a smile. She stands, stretching. “Just tired.” The flat they’re crashing in belonged to a vampire, and the décor is like someone spent way too much time studying vampire films of the eighties. The walls are painted black and plastered with neon posters. The headboard is black leather, and Artemis tries very hard not to think about what might have gone down in this room. They vacuumed the carpet very thoroughly after dusting the vampire, but she still insisted on new bedding before she’d sleep here. And even after that, she doesn’t sleep well. She constantly wakes in a panic, heart racing with the knowledge that she’s supposed to be doing something.
She can never figure out what, though.
Honora’s excited about their plans, and Artemis wants to be. But trying to imagine a life where she goes to college and majors in, what, accounting? And then gets a job in an office and wears low heels and goes to work every day like a normal person? She’s not a normal person, she’s never been a normal person, she doesn’t want to be a normal person. The whole thing would feel too absurd, knowing the evil that’s out there, lurking.
Artemis, an accountant, while Nina is a Slayer.
Her phone rings with the castle cell number and she wonders if her bitterness has summoned her twin. They haven’t spoken. Artemis wasn’t going to be the first to call. Not this time. Let Nina try to fix what was broken for once. Or it might be their mother. Taking a deep breath, annoyed for how her hopes flutter fragile and pathetic in her heart, Artemis answers. “Yeah?”
“Artemis?”
It takes her a few moments to place the voice. “Imogen?” Not who she had expected. She’s winded with disappointment. She wants her mother to call, to demand Artemis come back so she can refuse. She wants Nina to call and talk about how bad things are, how much they need her. She doesn’t know what she’d say in that case. But Imogen?
“Hey,” Imogen says. “Thank God. I was worried you’d change your number. Are you in contact with Sean?”
“No.” Artemis shrugs at Honora’s curious look, then mouths Imogen. Honora sits up and leans close. “We haven’t talked to Sean since my sister destroyed his whole setup. Wait. Is the castle in trouble? Did he attack to get Doug back?” Artemis’s pulse speeds up. She knew it. She knew they were making the wrong choice, that they wouldn’t be able to defend themselves. Honora gestures and Artemis puts the phone on speaker.
“What? No. This is about something else. Bigger. I can’t take it to Nina—she won’t be able to handle it. And we both know she won’t play nice with Honora, which is absurd. You and Honora are the best we ever had, even if the decrepit old guard were too far up their asses to see it. So this call is secret, okay?”
Artemis and Honora share a look. They’ve never heard Imogen talk this way. Artemis is intrigued in spite of herself. “I’m not in contact with anyone from the castle anyway.”
“Good. I’ve done some research and there’s a major new player surfacing. We’re talking