“Why are you here?” Maricruz asks. She’s sitting on a decorative stone wall, braiding Taylor’s hair.
“Thought there was a threat. Bigger than Von Alston, I mean.”
“So you’re hunting it?”
Am I? Wasn’t I the one who said if we started going after potential threats, we would stop being Sanctuary? And if it’s something that’s only threatening demons, do I get involved? Because not all demons—or even most of them—are benign like Doug. I want to help the ones who are, but the ones who aren’t definitely don’t belong here. My head doesn’t ache, exactly, but it feels like it should. “Um, not really. We’re looking for people—werewolves—well, anyone of a bump-in-the-night persuasion. It’s a long story.”
“Why are you looking for them?” Maricruz’s wariness is understandable, considering most people looking for beasties are hunting them, as evidenced by Von Alston.
“I run a sanctuary. A safe haven. For werewolves, or demons, or anyone who needs it and won’t harm anyone already there.”
Chao-Ahn’s eyes widen. “You offer sanctuary?”
“Yes. Yeah. We’re the sanctuariest.” I’m a bundle of nerves. I almost want to run into the trees and find the hunters, give them a few more punches for good measure. Something to do with my hands while I wait for Leo to wake up and decide whether I’m going to hug him or strangle him.
“What are the odds?” Oz asks.
“Odds of what? Wait, is this the math you were going to help with? I don’t actually want math advice.”
“No, dingbat,” Maricruz says, but she softens with a smile. “What are the odds we’d find a Slayer with a safe haven when that’s exactly what we came to London for?”
“Seriously?” I was always supposed to bring Slayers in. I thought I’d find them through my dreams. And I guess I did, in a very roundabout sort of way. After all, Chao-Ahn and I already know each other.
Oz nods. “I was taking them to another Slayer. But she’s actually the one outlier in my general good luck with Slayers. I think this might be a better option.”
I’m excited in spite of myself. Everything is messed up and confusing, but I did something right! I found Slayers. “Oh yeah! You should totally pick us. We have a castle. I’ll bet that other Slayer doesn’t have a castle.”
Oz rubs his chin. “Castle, huh? I’ve been looking into getting one of those. But the market is tough right now.”
“I need to pee,” Taylor says. Maricruz follows her inside. There’s a weird dynamic there. Taylor can’t be much younger than Maricruz—in fact, I think she’s slightly older than I am. But it’s like she needs a babysitter.
“Where are you all from?” I ask.
“The Himalayas, by way of a lot of places,” Oz says.
Chao-Ahn seems annoyed. Or maybe that’s her permanent state of being. “That is not where any of us come from. That is where we were. Maricruz is from New York City. Taylor is from Iowa. Idaho. Ohio.” She frowns. “Somewhere smaller than New York City.”
“What about you?”
“You do not know it.”
“Try me!”
“Guangzhou.”
“Oh. Um. Yeah. I don’t know it. It’s in … China?”
The breath she releases sounds sharp enough to cut me. “I will tell you enough, and then you will ask no more questions. A British man came. He tried to take me. Then other men came. No eyes.” She gestures to her own. “They almost killed me. I went with the British man. He brought me to California.”
“Sunnydale?” I ask, my heart racing.
“Home sweet hellmouth,” Oz says.
“Yes. Very sunny. Very bad part of California. No movie stars. Just monsters. No one learned Cantonese. So many Slayers, and I was always alone.” Some of the anger fades and she talks as though trying to find her way through the words like navigating an unfamiliar room in the darkness. “And after, when we won, I had to keep fighting. Always fighting. I have not been home since Mr. Giles took me away. And I wonder. I am a Slayer for a reason. Guangzhou must have demons. Vampires. Monsters. Who is protecting them while I fight Buffy’s fights?”
“Wait. Did Buffy send you here?” There was a period of time when Buffy ran an extensive network of Slayer operatives. Basically a big Slayer army. But a crap-ton of them died, and after Buffy destroyed the Seed of Wonder and killed magic, she kind of retired. Went back to solo Slayage in San Francisco. Is she still working internationally? We should have known if she was. This idea worries me and also makes me feel a touch left out that I haven’t been recruited.
“No.” Chao-Ahn packs an entire history I’m not privy to in that one word. “We don’t speak. I was in Tibet with Oz and a Slayer army. So close to home.” She stares into the forest as though she can pierce the distance through sheer determination. “But I could not leave the girls, after the fight. No one takes care of them.”
I cross my arms, not in defiance but to hold myself against the shame. I believed so much in the Watchers. In my heritage. It took becoming a Slayer for me to realize how deeply they failed in their calling. I told Eve Silvera that I was going to be the Watcher for every Slayer out there. I haven’t done a very good job of keeping that vow. But I will. “I’m trying to change that.”
She nods brusquely. “We fought gods. We got hurt. Maricruz and Taylor and me and many others. We stayed when Buffy left. And she never came back. She never— Well, we stayed there. But they need to heal and move on. So we came here to find somewhere safe.”
“They haven’t healed? They should have healed by now. Slayers heal fast.” I rub my shoulder, which is almost totally better. I wonder if there’s something with the loss of magic that’s changed our powers. They’ve all been Slayers longer than I have. Is it fading? Panic sparks through me. If we stop healing quickly, does that mean we’ll also lose our strength? Our instincts? I’ve lost it before, and the memory keeps me awake at night. It’s one thing to never know power. Another entirely to have it and then lose it.
Chao-Ahn shakes her head. She gestures to her body. “Not here. Here.” She taps the side of her head. “Sometimes we break here. And no one can help us, because no one understands.”
I feel what she’s saying. One of the worst parts of navigating the last few months is how alone I’ve felt. Is that why Artemis left? Because she got hurt, and no one could understand except Honora? I would have understood. I will understand. I just need her to come back. To talk to me. To give me a chance to be there for her. Like I’ll be there for these Slayers.
Leo groans, ending the conversation as we all shift to look at him. I want to stare at him until he wakes up. I never want to look at him again. I never want to stop looking at him. I want to tear out my hair.
Doug pulls up in our car. “If you all want to come to the castle,” I say, calculating, “Oz will have to drive too. We don’t have room in our car for every extra passenger.”
“But we do have a kitten!” Doug holds up the tiny orange fluff ball. “Meet Trouble.”
“Better than Chewie, but trouble is what we’re going to be in when Cillian finds out you already named her.” I toss the case of money to Oz. “Check that for, I don’t know, booby traps or trackers or something.”