“Nina, will you introduce me?”
Chao-Ahn and I both jump, turning to find my mother has materialized out of the darkness behind us. My mother holds out her right hand to Chao-Ahn. Her jacket has parted to reveal a glimpse of her gun.
“You are scary,” Chao-Ahn says.
“You have no idea,” I mutter. “What are you doing lurking out here?”
“I wanted to greet the new Slayers. Also, we have a procedure to follow. None of them have agreed to the rules or completed the entry interview yet. Ladies, if you’ll follow me to the library, Rhys and I will get you processed and settled into rooms.”
“Is there a test?” the timid blond one, Taylor, asks. She looks terrified. “I’m not good at tests. Or interviews.”
“Just some basic geometry,” I say, “and a few essay questions.”
“Really?” Maricruz’s dark eyes are wide with alarm.
“No. Sorry. All you have to do is hear the rules and agree to them. We need a simple majority to allow you in, but I don’t think that’ll be a problem.”
“I’m certain it won’t.” My mother smiles, but she’s never been good at reassuring. Maricruz and Taylor look appropriately intimidated as they follow her in. Chao-Ahn lingers for a few seconds, like she wants to speak with me, but Cillian grabs my arm and draws me to the side.
“Let me talk to Rhys, okay? I’ll take point on this mystery. You’ve got enough going on.”
I nod, melting into his offered hug. It’s a lie for me to accept his reassurances—he’s not taking over this mystery, but he can at least handle his family’s ties to it. I’ll be there to support him, though. “Sure. Thanks.”
One of the van doors closes and Oz comes around the front of it. “Watchers, huh? Anyone related to Giles?”
I shake my head. I have complicated feelings about Rupert Giles. My dad was Buffy’s first Watcher, but Rupert Giles is the one she bonded with. The one who left the Watchers in protest of their policies, and who probably influenced Buffy to turn her back on them as well. I get it now—I really do—but it doesn’t change the weird spikes of resentment I feel when I hear the name Giles, may he rest in peace. “Last of his line. Most of us are.”
“I knew another Watcher. Wesley—”
“Wyndam-Pryce,” we say together, imitating the pretentious pride with which all Wyndam-Pryces deliver their names.
“Sadly, he’s not the last of his line.” My glower is colder than the night as I think about Honora and how she’s corrupted my sister. “Come on. I’ll get you some food, and if you want to spend the night, you’re more than welcome.” He said he was dropping the Slayers off in London, so I assume he’s not looking for a permanent situation here.
“I like food. Thanks.” I lead him through the dim main hall. Which room is Leo in? The dorm wing, where I live? The Council wing, where he stayed with his mother the last time they were here? Not the dungeon, at least. My mother promised.
Imogen isn’t in the kitchen, so I make the only things I know I won’t mess up: toast and tea. I want Oz to leave so I can figure out how I feel in the solitude of my own room and so I can practice what I’m going to say to Artemis when I call her with my demands. I also don’t want him to leave for that exact reason—I don’t want to confront her again. Or, worse, to face my feelings about Leo being alive even though I was never able to face my feelings about him being dead.
Oz sips tea, looking around the dining hall. “I like your castle. I like it better knowing it’s broody vampire–free.”
“Don’t like vampires?”
“Nah, I’m cool with vampires in general. But the broody ones. They make things complicated.”
I should probably go call Artemis right now. But I keep remembering the look she gave me as I was crouched on the hood of that truck. Like I was stupid. She never treated me that way. Honora did, though. What if Artemis rejects my offer?
She won’t. All I’m asking is that she return a book. Or, barring that, tell me what it’s about. She did say she’d fill me in, but I refused to get in the truck. Maybe I should have.
Gods, I’m tired. I haven’t slept in so long. Maybe I’ll wait until morning to call her when I can think more clearly. We all need some rest. I wonder where the Slayers will stay. It seems weird to stick them in the dorms, but also weird to give them the fancy rooms. I briefly considered taking one of the Council wing rooms when we changed everything, but it felt like I was promoting myself. And if I left the dorm wing room I shared with Artemis, it was too close to admitting she was never coming back.
So those rooms stayed empty. I think the new Slayers should take the old Wyndam-Pryce suite. Good riddance to its former occupants. I hope they don’t take the Silvera suite. Though I don’t know if Leo will want to stay in there, surrounded by memories of his mother.
Where is he right now? I can’t believe he’s not dead. And he’s here. And I can’t see him. And I don’t want to see him. But I do want to see him.
“And that’s how I got the nickname Oz.”
“What?”
“I was telling you my life story. It’s a pretty good story. Some dull bits, but I kind of like those.”