The Last Harmon [Complete]

Chapter 22

The slam of the door jolts me awake. I rub my eyes as I stand up at the balcony. I have no idea what time it is, but the sky is now black and every star is out. I walk through the doors yawning, and to find Sam rustling through his closet.

"You still want to help?" he says, not looking at me.

"Now?" I mutter. "Yeah, I guess. What's going on?"

"There's a large coven boarding a plane in California in. . ." He checks his watch and stares at me. "Ten minutes. They're landing in London to join others and to form an army that's going to march at this castle tomorrow. We take out this plane, no army."

I stand so still that I begin to paralyze. We. He said we.

"How do you know that?" I whisper.

"I know everything," he says. "The slayers over there, they're in wiccan territory, they won't make a move on a coven that large. If the coven gets over here, it could mean big trouble for us. They don't usually come this close to the castle, so Amara must be pretty confident."

"Why do you need my help?" I say. "You have an entire unit at your disposal."

"I don't want them involved in this," he says. "And like you said, they're exhausted. Whatever's on that plane, it's being used against us. If you're really on our side then now is the time to prove it."

I unfreeze and step forwards. "Okay, I never said I was on your side. I said I'm against Amara and I'd help you fight her. I am not fighting the wiccans, and I definitely won't help you kill them."

"Are you that naïve?" he demands. "You do know they're on their way here to kill you. You know that right?"

"What happened to them thinking I'd be dead?"

"And then you pulled the escape stunt and left the force field," he says. "She sensed you. She knows you're alive. And she's about to send everything she's got to our door."

"Murder is against everything we are," I say. "I can't believe she turned them into this."

"I don't have time for you to fight with your conscience," he says. "I'm leaving right now, and if you can't stomach something like this, then you're never going to be able to face the war."

He has a point. They're never going to leave me alone. For the rest of my life, Amara is going to send witches after me. Whether they have a choice or not, what am I supposed to do? Let them kill me? For the sake of my morality? It's my fault that this is happening, if I hadn't left the castle that day then Amara would still assume me dead and she would have waited the slayers out over time. Sam holds his transportation star in his hand, readying himself to leave.

"Wait," I say. I take a deep breath and I walk towards him. "If I die this time then you better hide my body somewhere good."

He smirks. He doesn't say anything he just holds out his hand. His hand is huge, twice the size of mine, and he grips it at full force. I relax my body as much as possible, but my nerves are hard to ignore. For the first time, I can feel the transition. It isn't painful, but it's extraordinarily uncomfortable. My particles detach into the air, I can still think, but my brain is scattered into a million pieces, all of them containing so many thoughts that it's difficult to keep track. I'm thinking about how I'm going to be useful, I'm thinking about forgotten spells and reteaching myself on how to aim them correctly. I'm thinking about how I'm not trained for anything close to what the slayers are trained for, and that I might mess everything up. Thinking while my body is airborne is easy, but the moment my particles begin reattaching is something else entirely.