"How much do you know about project H?" Tex asks me.

He walks me slowly through the dimly-lit camp, I keep my head high and I try not to make eye contact with any of the surrounding Slayers, but I'm drawn to them like a shark to blood. Most of them stare at me for seconds before glancing away, but there is one, a man with no hair and a short, black beard that stares just a little longer. The huts go on for miles, and with the safety of the forest, the camp could be endless. That means a lot of Slayers must be stationed here to guard it. I'm almost surprised that there isn't a shield around it to protect it from outside threats. Like myself. But then human refugees wouldn't be able to seek safety.

"Project H?" I repeat quietly. "Humans?"

"Not much then," Tex says. "Like a few others, it seems you are the subject of another of Sam's tests."

"He does this often?"

"Not often, no. Just occasionally."

"How long have you worked for him?"

Tex stares at me. I cough, realising that was a wrongly phrased question.

"At the camp, I mean."

"Since the project began five years ago," he says. "I run it. I put forward teams of scouts that scour the world for human refugees willing to come and Sam authorizes it."

"How many came?"

"As of today, there are two hundred and forty humans." He frowns suddenly. "Hardly anything compared to the millions that are still out there though. It's becoming harder and harder to separate them since Amara ordered the Red Camps."

I stop suddenly, placing my hand on his arm in disbelief. "What did you just say?"

Tex raises an eyebrow, challenging my knowledge of this. But my eyes cannot hide the sudden sadness.

"You didn't know?" he says. "Sam didn't mention that?"

"The Red Camps," I say. "As in. . . concentration camps? She's imprisoning humans?"

"It happened a couple of weeks ago, ever since a witch was kidnapped from her. Well, so we heard. She's got these camps all over America. Humans were rallied in their thousands and forced into cramped and horrific pens. The gates are spelled so that we can't enter them and they're patrolled by wiccans around the clock."

"She's gone mad," I mutter.

I knew something like this would happen eventually, I just didn't expect it to be this soon. She's doing this to draw me out, even when she knows I've agreed to kill Sam for the sake of the world she still has to commit an evil act in order to ensure it. Now she's given me no choice. She has thousands of innocent lives confined and lined up for the slaughter if I don't go through with it; this is a warning, and it's one that I can't ignore.

"There was a time when it was just us Slayers that had reason to fear her," he says. "Now it's everyone. No matter what species, no matter what blood, we are all her enemy."

I look around a small part of the camp sheepishly. My eyes rest on the sight of a man cradling a little girl on a log. He is softly humming a song to her to get her to sleep and I am caught in a hypnotizing moment of heartbreak.

"Do you have eyes on those camps?" I ask.

Tex nods. "There is one, just on the border of California. It's the smallest we've found, with only a hundred prisoners and ten wiccan guards. We have a team ready for infiltration in a few weeks."

"None of that will matter if you can't get through the spell," I say.

"That's exactly why we've failed in every infiltration so far," he sighs. "There's a high chance the team will fail, like every other."

I bite on my lip, watching that little girl fall asleep in her father's arms. I think of all the other little girls and boys trapped and terrified in those camps. Most likely separated from their parents, most likely orphaned. Their hope lost, their future bleak. They'll spend every day believing no one is coming for them. I can't let that happen. I might not be able to save them all but that's better than saving none.

As I look further around, I realise very quickly that there's true hope here. The humans are free to talk and laugh and revel in their peaceful freedom. They are safe here and they feel safe here, and that's because they know a Slayer is just a few feet away. Would they react the same if they knew a witch was this close? That man would wrap his daughter up and would take her as far from me as possible. Maybe this is part of Sam's test, understanding why it's shameful to declare yourself a witch, to not want to associate myself with the term in any way because it keeps the humans happy.

Tex leads me out of the camp and through the trees. In the near distance, I see the back of a blonde woman's head.

"For your first night, I thought it'd be good for you to be with a familiar face," Tex says.

"Familiar face?" I mutter in confusion.

We stop at a large log and the woman finally turns and looks at us. Her eyes widen so much I think she's going to have a stroke.

"Milasia, I'm placing Nala with you. As you're both in the same unit, I'm assuming you're already acquainted."

"Oh, we're acquainted alright," I whisper.

Milasia stands from the log, her mouth half open. "What the hell are you doing here?"

"Same reason as you."

"This must be a mistake." She speaks directly to Tex. "Where's Sam?"

"There's no mistake, Sam made it very clear that Nala was posted here. Is that going to be a problem?"

"Yes," we both say together.

"That's too bad," Tex says. "Enjoy your night, girls."

He turns and leaves. I fold my arms, shrugging at Milasia as she scowls at me. She drops back to the log with a sigh.

"Sit down then," she orders. "If I'm going to be stuck with you all night then I'd rather not have you looming over me."

I take a seat on the log, not taking offense as she shuffles all the way over to the edge.

"Face the opposite way," she hisses. "Have you never been on a double post before?"

"I can't say I have," I say, turning to face the camp. "I'm going through a lot of firsts lately."

"Like changing your name? What's wrong? Don't you want them to know you're a murderous witch that destroyed their lives?"

"That was Sam," I say. "And you know I'm nothing like that."

"You mean, apart from trying to kill me."

"I was protecting Sophia."

"Why?" she asks.

I turn and stare at her. She stares back.

"You don't scare me, Milasia. Believe it or not, I'm quite bored of being afraid."

"What does then?" she says. "Scare you, that is."

I flick my eyes across the camp, watching the subtle way the humans move and bend, just the simplicity of them retrieving water from the well or picking up their shoes, and I try to remember a time when it looked so easy. It's been years.

"You wouldn't understand."

"Because I'm not human, right?" she says. "I'm more human than you."

I accumulate a large and resentful grin. "Yet you do not fear anything."

"I fear the same as you, witch," she mutters. "I fear losing my family."

"That's the difference between us." I turn to look at her. "I've already conquered that fear."

"Have you? True, you lost your coven, but I thought witches were bonded by the powerful, ever-lasting bloodline of Elders? When push comes to shove, they're still your family, and anyone associated with them should die right beside them."

I sigh. "If it comes to a battle, Slayers will probably lose. If I cared that much about bloodlines, why would I be wasting my time on the wrong side? To even the odds?" I laugh to myself. "No. It's because I've lived on the side of witches for nearly two decades and the only thing it ever taught me was to treat humans like animals. If I wasn't a Harmon, I'd have been brainwashed into believing it like the rest of them."

"Don't try to fool me with your bullshit reasons about staying with us. We both know it's because you have nowhere else to go. You need our protection. Sam's protection. He's an idiot for letting you live."

"He's an idiot for a lot of reasons," I say. "But maybe this reason meant something. Maybe it could mean something. I don't know what I can do, I don't know if I even have the power to make a difference, but as long as there's humans in danger then I'm going to be on the side that helps them."

"You sound like Sam," she whispers. "Humans are his first priority too. Always have been. Even at the expense of us." She hangs her head and plays with her fingers, enduring a deepfelt moment of thought and reflect. "But the demons? They don't give a shit. They don't feel human emotions, so they can't care. They're damned and they're dangerous and Sam seems to think they're one war away from invading this shithole and setting the lot on fire. And you know what? Maybe that's for the best. Because look what we've done to it."

"What Amara's done to it," I correct.

"No." She shakes her head and stares towards empty trees. "This was set in motion long before Amara ever came along. It's been building and building for centuries, and we just simply overlooked it. I don't kill witches because I choose to, I kill them because I have to. Because a thousand years of brainwashing and bloodshed has led to this, and the greatest war of all will be my generation's problem."

"The war with Amara?"

She shakes her head again. I sigh, understanding her meaning.

"Bullshit and threats aside, witch, I'm going to be brutally honest with you." She looks me in the eye and doesn't blink. "I'm going to be more honest than anyone has ever been because no matter my feelings towards you, it seems you have won over a few members of my unit. When the war with Amara is over and we slay that crazy bitch, the demons will come. And when they do, they're coming for your covens and the humans. You will not be on our side then because we will be on theirs. We have to be on their side. We don't get that choice. When that time comes, you will be fighting against Sophia, Curtis, Sam and every other Slayer you claim to like. We will become the evil that you witches believe us to be and no force in the universe will stop us. If the demons think there are enough of us to procreate then humans are no longer needed. We will have total control over this world and the evil will spread and spread until our human selves are dead. You want my advice? Stop pretending like you're the saviour of the fucking world and open your eyes."

I blink harshly. My eyes are now wide open—forcefully and unwillingly. The world she describes is no more than a few years away, and I've been burying my head in the fight against Amara to ignore it. Opening that door is my greatest fear, though I didn't tell her that, but the image can no longer be buried now. The world, burning. The covens, the humans, slaughtered. Every single one. Not one single life left. Only Slayers who are forced to fight for their creators, out of fear or physical suggestion I'm not sure, but it will happen.

My heart suddenly aches for Sam. He did all of this to protect the humans, to give them safety and freedom, knowing it would never last. Knowing his whole world will be turned upside down the moment Amara is gone. There are no winners here. There is no hope or longing for peace. There is nothing to fight for. Vienna was right all along. If I don't team up with Amara to kill the demons then none of this will matter. I begin to feel nauseous, and I have to hold my mouth as I glance away.

"Who knows about this?" I whisper, gulping down the dread.

"Just the unit, for now. If you want to know the real reason why I'll never see you as anything but a witch, that is why. It is the one war you can't stop. And it's the one you can't win. You and Sophia might be best friends right now, but out on that battlefield, trust me, she won't give you a second look. I doubt you'll last that long anyway."

I already knew the demons were coming. So why do I feel this way? Why do I suddenly have this tight knot in the pit of my stomach? Because I now know that Sam has to die—by my hand? Does it make it realer? I'm not sure. But it gives me a twisted sense of urgency. Urgency that I've never known. To side with Amara and free the humans, to destroy the demons and restore the world. But then I'll have to live the rest of my life knowing what I did and fearing my own humanity.

"Do you know what I'd give to be human?" I say quietly. "To not be something more, something special or important? I'd give everything. My whole life, I have hated being a witch. I've never felt part of that world. I'd indulge in mortal company as much as possible just to get away from it. Even though the humans are going through hell right now, they don't know how lucky they are."

I feel her eyes bore into me.

"You're a lot of things, witch, but special? Nah."

We smile at each other, until she turns her head and laughs to herself. I laugh along for a few moments, and then I continue watching the lights flicker around the camp.

"You were wrong about one thing, though."

"What's that?" I say.

"There isn't a difference between us. I've conquered that fear too. I was just one of the lucky ones that found another."

It doesn't surprise me that she's lost her family, given what Sophia and Curtis told me about Slayers losing their parents young. I never imagined I'd ever feel bad for Milasia, but I sort of do. A young girl, orphaned, misguided, thrown into a chaotic world where she has to fight for survival at every corner—it's no wonder she's created a nasty and defensive persona.

"Maybe one day I'll be lucky too," I say.

"Well I hope your luck isn't as shit as getting stuck here for the night."

"If it is, I'm sure you'll be the first to know."

She makes a long and deep laughing sound. It's so strange to hear her laugh, I imagine she preserves it for surprising moments. After it falls silent, it stays that way for a long time. Just silence. Both of us listening to the other's breathing. The night is full of stars and for once I just watch them, no worries to plague me, no terrors to greet me, just a thoughtless sky and a thoughtless witch.