The Last Harmon [Complete]

Chapter 40

Natalia drives like she's suicidal. I kind of like it. It's been a long time since I've been in a car and I've missed the thrill of the speed. Every highway is deserted, sometimes I see skeletons or decomposing corpses openly left on the side of the road. I can never get used to that.

"My coven is staying in California to prepare our deceased's burials," Natalia says. "I'll join them in a few days."

"Aren't you even a little upset by their deaths?" I ask.

She stares at me for a moment and then looks back to the road. "No. Why would I be?"

"It's just. . . I don't know. . . normal?"

"Yeah, for those that have feelings." She chuckles to herself. "I'm kidding. Yeah, I feel sad by their deaths, but it isn't my fault. Why should I feel bad if it isn't my fault?"

I consider that. She has a good point.

"That's an interesting way to look at death."

"I'm an interesting thinker," she says. "Those in my coven know that if they're not powerful enough to defend themselves against a Slayer then they have no place there. Those that die aren't worthy."

I narrow my eyes at her as she refuses to look at me. "Your coven aren't your family, are they?"

"No," she says. "They take my name, but they don't share my blood. They were exiled out of their covens for practising dark magic, and I gave them my name and a purpose to continue it."

"One of those purposes being murder."

"I'm not proud of my past," she sighs. "But we've all committed sins, right? Tell me Theresa Harmon, what's yours?"

I glance out of the window, watching the desert move at a hundred miles past me. I can't think of a sin worse than murder. And I just committed my first today. Even though I didn't take Amara's life, I contributed.

"Maybe sin is the wrong word," she says. "Perhaps just a universal wrongdoing will suffice. Think of anyone in particular you've done a wrongdoing with?"

I don't respond and in the corner of my eye I can see her grinning to herself.

"I'm a Latent, Theresa. I've been able to read people's auras for years. I can see it around you, it's like a safety blanket. Right now, it's purple, which means you're regretting something. When you were with the Malachi. . . it was black. Want to know what that means?"

"I don't care," I say. "You can analyse me or you want but you'll never know the truth."

"It means fear. Black is fear. What are you afraid of? It's not him hurting you because you saved his life. Are you scared of the future you'll never have?"

"Is one of your interesting thinking processes winding someone up to the point they want to hit you?" I hiss.

"Possibly," she says. "But you know, when the two of you held hands like the world was about to implode if you didn't, both of your auras were the same colour. And it certainly wasn't black."

I glance at the clock on her stereo and I clench my teeth. It's only been thirty minutes and I'm ready to open the door and jump. I tap my fingers against the window, and then I see the first mountain in the distance. There are no mountains in England, only land, woods and many cornfields. I'm really back. Arizona is at the end of this highway and I'm thousands of miles away from the castle. I may never see Curtis again. I feel bad that he's back there on his own, spending all his time going through my mother's spell book to find a way to kill Amara. At some point, I'll have to go and get that book back. Maybe it's the excuse I need to say my goodbyes, or maybe it's better if I leave it behind completely.