The Last Harmon [Complete]

Chapter 35

Over the next couple of weeks, so many changes are implemented. Whether or not the war is much sooner than we all thought is unknown, Sam hasn't disclosed it, but things are finally happening.

After returning my mother's spell book, I got to work in Curtis' secret chamber of hidden magic. I studied everything; compared spells, made potions that blasted through pillars and sent my hair red, danced with a thousand ghosts buried deep inside journals going back centuries. I tried to interpret my mother's bizarre wiccan language, but she had a tongue of her own and she made sure that no Elder—especially Amara—would be able to practise her spells. Because of my blood, the spells opened to me, and I've spent hours upon hours searching for a way to kill her, with no success.

At California's night I return to the refugee camp. Transportation stars are no longer necessary since I discovered the spell to master my own portal. I even have my very own colour—green. I've worked various guard posts, from the woods to the beach, to miles outside the camp, to sitting right on that bench until dawn, watching David's tent.

In the morning, he always speaks to me. It's getting harder to honour his father's wish of keeping my distance, but I can't help it. The people, and the Slayers, are becoming used to seeing me and it's beginning to feel like a home. Helping them is my main objective of the day, whether I'm there or at the castle.

At the castle, tensions are high. Arguments are breaking out every day, the unit is exhausted and stressed, but mostly they're bored. Bored of waiting for an order that never comes, bored of having to pretend that they're saving the world just for it to be destroyed moments after.

Sam remains busy, as always. Recruiting a Slayer army to fight for him is easy, but not having any information to give them is wearing him down. When I returned most days to sleep on the balcony, I caught glimpses of him, tossing in his bed, sweat dripping from his forehead. He hasn't had a peaceful sleep for a long time and his dreams are plagued with horrors. I wish I could see what was going on inside his head, but I'm not ready to explore that part of him yet.

Today, after waking up on the balcony, because I still feel uncomfortable sleeping in his room, I'm surprised to find a blanket wrapped around me. It's the same blanket that Sam lays against the wall, and the blanket that I usually bring outside. I must have been too tired earlier to do that. Sam must have placed the blanket around me before he headed out, and it's the first time he's ever done it. I gently fold the blanket as I smile.

Over the last couple of weeks, something has changed between us. Every day he is showing a little more that he cares that I'm here, and I don't know how to react to it. He used to treat me as though I was invisible, most of them did, but now I'm slowly becoming a part of their strong and unbreakable team.

I take a shower and I change my clothes, before heading to the chamber for practice. I spend hours going over the same incantations, with no luck, and after another failed attempt at translating a spell, I leave the chamber with only one thing on my mind today. I go in search of Sam, because I know it's the only thing on his mind too. I follow the sound of groans towards a training chamber, and I find him inside, shirtless and sweaty, punching his life away at a hung-up bag.

I stand in the dim doorway, crossing my arms as I observe him move. Effortless, quick, merciless, like a predator. I know he sees me, even when he's not looking.

"Another failed spell?" he mutters.

"How did you know?"

"Your hair is white."

I reach up and touch the ends of my hair. "Oh."

"I kind of like it." He carries on punching, his eyes scorned into that bag.