“Not mermaids exactly, but I’m pretty sure I’ve read about something similar. Carnivorous, though.”
“No way!” Maricruz leans back, almost bouncing in her seat.
“How do mermaids do it?” Taylor asks, staring out the window at the night. We’re almost at the ferry. “Do they lay eggs like fish? Or do they … you know, do it?”
“Rhys can tell you. Stake me, Rhys. I forgot.” I pull out my phone to see dozens of texts and several missed calls. This was way longer than we were supposed to be gone, and we haven’t checked in with him at all. Not to mention my last call with Cillian was probably quite alarming. I text Rhys the details of our London trip. I hesitate, then leave out Artemis and Honora. Too much to get into. It’ll be easier to explain in person. I include the Slayers and Oz with a sinking feeling. No way to avoid mentioning that we hit Von Alston. Which means my mother will know I deliberately went against her advice. Even though I’m glad we did—who knows what would have happened to Oz and the Slayers otherwise—that old fear of displeasing her is hard to get rid of. I spent so many years desperate for her to acknowledge me, to approve of me, that disobeying her is terrifying.
But all those details about the trip are lost to context when I send the last text. My terse line about finding Leo is met with many, many nonterse texts back, which I ignore. At least their minds being blown over Leo might distract them from when I tell them about Artemis. I still don’t know how I’m going to do that.
On the ferry, I pace the deck and try not to think about Leo, who is sleeping in the van. The Slayers keep to themselves, which I get. They still don’t know me, not really. And I’m positively radiating my angst—a fact Doug let me know very unsubtly by keeping the windows rolled down on the drive, even though it’s January.
Between the drive, the wait for the ferry, and the ferry itself, it’s dark again when we finally get to Ireland. Rhys texts me as the ferry docks and I slide back into the car. I frown at my phone. “They’re here.”
“Who’s here?” Doug asks.
“Rhys and at least one other person, unless he refers to himself using the royal ‘we’ now. Said to meet them immediately. Parking lot one street over.” I give Oz directions to follow us. The few humming streetlights bathe the parking lot in eerily flat orange light. We pull in to find the only other car is one of ours, and standing outside it are Rhys, Cillian, Imogen, Tsip, and my mother. And then ancient Ruth Zabuto, she of the knitting needles and openmouthed snoring when she’s supposed to be watching the Littles, comes around the side holding a sword.
I’m out of our car before Doug puts it in park. “What’s wrong? What happened?”
“Get out of the van,” Rhys shouts. Doug climbs out of our car, the same look of confusion and fear on his face. The Slayers follow him, Taylor holding the kitten in front of her face like a shield.
Maricruz looks pissed, but I suspect it masks fear. “What is this?” she demands. “Did you set us up?”
Rhys is holding a crossbow. My mother has one hand in her suit pocket, where I’m almost positive she has her brutal handgun. Imogen doesn’t look tense; she’s casually leaning against their Range Rover. Tsip is shimmering in and out of existence. And Ruth has her feet apart in a fighting stance. How is she even holding the sword up? It’s got to weigh almost as much as she does.
I hold out a hand to Maricruz, who looks ready to run. “No! I have no idea what this is about.”
“I knew I should have RSVPed,” Oz says, climbing out of his van. “I always forget.”
Chao-Ahn slides free from the passenger seat with a stake in her hand and daggers in her glare as she looks at me.
I point at the well-armed castle denizens. “I didn’t tell them to show up here like this! Seriously, what’s going on?” I ask Rhys. “Is it the Littles? Are they okay? Oh gods, did—”
“Step away from the van.” Rhys crosses the space to us and yanks open the sliding door to the van. “Leo, get out and get on your knees.”
“If this is about tall, dark, and semi-unconscious, can we get back in the car?” Maricruz opens her door and ushers Taylor back inside. Chao-Ahn stays out and on alert.
I swat away Rhys’s crossbow. Leo is struggling to sit up. I shake my head at him. “Stay where you are. What in the many, many hells are you doing, Rhys?”
“Ian Von Alston is dead,” my mother says. “He was murdered.”
“What? When?”
Rhys jerks the crossbow free of my grip. “The last time we had Silveras in the castle, people died. We won’t risk that again.”
“But Leo warned us, remember? He told you the truth, and he saved us all by taking on his mother and stopping her hellmouth progress! He’s one of us!”
Rhys looks grim. “So was his mother. So was Imogen’s mother. A past as a Watcher cannot and will not excuse betrayal in any form. And how do we know he’s not like his mother? A man is dead.”
Doug takes a step toward the van. “Ian was alive and well when we left him. Leo was already outside, with me. Nina was the last one to …” He pauses. Rhys and my mother turn toward him, the silence weighted and pressing down like the night around us. Doug clears his throat. “The last one to talk to him.”
“No, you mean Nina was the last one to see him alive,” I say. “Do you think I killed him?”
“No! No. But you pushed him back into that room in the house, and when you came out, you … I … well, it’s just, Leo was unconscious, and as soon as he woke up we were with him the whole time, so it couldn’t have been Leo, could it?” Doug looks down and to the side, avoiding my gaze.
“I left him alive.” How could he think otherwise? I cringe, closing my eyes. He knows better than anyone how I feel on the inside. He can’t get away from knowing, not trapped in confined spaces with me like he has been. And the truth is, I could have killed Von Alston. Part of me might have even wanted to.
Gods. Do I smell like a murderer? What is wrong with me?
“Nina?” My mother puts her hand on my arm. If she had the gun, it’s gone now. “Tell us what happened and why you went to Ian Von Alston’s estate.”
“We went to the convention. There was an attack. Sean’s people, I think, though there’s a new element. Humans, black cloaks, necklaces. Seem like zealots. I stopped the attack. I ran into …” I pause. This doesn’t feel like the right time. Everyone is literally up in arms already. If I tell them about Artemis, who knows how they’ll react? Rhys told me himself he doesn’t care about our past with someone if they betray us. And I can’t imagine they’ll view Artemis working with zealots as anything other than a betrayal.
I have to be careful. I can be as pissed off at her as I want, but when things crash and burn for her, which they will, I need her to feel terrible and guilty but be able to come home. She’s still my sister. My misguided sister, but mine. I won’t leave it up to other people whether or not she deserves her place in my home.
When we get back to the castle and I have a minute to breathe, I’ll call her. Explain that I haven’t told on her. That she can give the book back and there won’t be any consequences. It’ll help fix things between us and prevent complications at the castle.