"Well this day just a lot more interesting. I have no regrets. Do you?" I prize my attention away from the overjoyed team to look at Natalia. She grins at me. "Why aren't you celebrating?"

"Relief and celebration are separate things," I say.

"Amara was wrong," she says. "About you not being accepted anywhere. This team accepted you, even before they knew you were part Slayer."

"Yes, but-"

"And in time, the wiccans will accept you too. They'll have to."

I bite down on my lip.

"Amara had no children," she continues. "You're the only living manifestor. You can start a new chapter, do better, be the Elder that they need."

"I have no interest in taking her place. I have no interest in using magic ever again."

She stares at me. "Become a full-time Slayer? Really? Being a witch is who you are, Theresa. Even if it's half. It's all you've ever known; you can't just abandon that."

"I think you're eleven murders too late for giving me witch advice," I mutter. "Yes, it's all I've known, but I've lost everything because of witchcraft. With Amara dead, the Slayers can revolt and push them back into seclusion. The world can go back to how it was."

She laughs. "The world will never be how it was. They'll always be a new threat, a new power struggle. An Elder like you will help keep the balance. Even though the Slayers accept you, you can't stay with them. You don't belong there."

"Why do you care?" I demand. "You've always looked after number one; you don't give a damn about any of us."

"Maybe I'm beginning to reconsider that." She smiles lightly and looks ahead. "The dark side of magic is unpredictable and alluring, but it made me forget that I have a coven that needs me. It made me not care, about anything. But you made me see that we can't do it alone, we all need a unit. I just think you're looking in the wrong place."

"If it's redemption you're looking for, you won't find that here."

"What is it you believe I deserve?" she asks.

I sigh. "That's not up to me to decide."

"But it could be. You are the most powerful witch in the world right now, Theresa. You have the Malachi on your side, and you can unite covens that are being torn apart because of fear of the Elders. You can come home."

Through the crowd of happy Slayers, Sam looks at me. There is sudden sadness in his eyes, as though he's thinking about it too. If I leave them, then I fear I'll be suppressing another part of me. I'll be rejected in Arizona, it'll take weeks, maybe months, to fight for my place among the covens again. And I don't want that. I don't want to be around the chaos of this, the grief of Amara's death. Since I accessed my Slayer side and banished my magic, the voices haven't returned. The Elders can't reach me if I don't practise, and the moment I do, Amara might return to haunt me.

But if I don't practise, how do I prepare for what's coming? And if I stay, how do I pretend to be that brave?

A tear rolls down my face and I wipe it away before Natalia notices. I hate this. I hate every part of this. It's tearing me apart and I can't breathe.

"They don't need you anymore," Natalia says. "Let them go."

I watch them as they laugh to each other, as they hit each other playfully, as they examine their injuries and compare. I know that half of them still don't trust me, but that's irrelevant because they all mean something to me. What we all did, together, it will be a moment of history that none of us will ever forget.

I nod. I just want to depart silently. No goodbyes, no unnecessary questions or snide remarks about my DNA. I just need to be on my own and work things out from there. Natalia turns with me and we head for the trees. Her coven has already left, and I didn't bother to ask where they were going, but I assume they've taken the wiccans that Sam and Megan killed for a burial.

"I have one small question," Natalia says as we descend down a hill into another woodland. "Was it strategical? Saving him?"

"No."

"I didn't think it was. I watched the two of you, before we killed her, that was one hell of a connection. Okay, so I have another question, can you feel your demon side? Like is it-"

"Natalia, please shut up."

"I'm sorry," she chuckles. "I just. . . I don't think you quite realise how unique you are."

"I realise it."

"Did you know your father? I mean, wasn't there clues to-" I stare at her and she swallows. "-I'll stop."

I take a deep breath. "I guess I'm going to be facing those questions for the rest of my life."

"Only if you tell the wiccans, which would be an incredibly bad move."

"My mother spent years of her life hating herself for creating me," I say. "I'm not going to continue that shame. I am not ashamed."

"Theresa, you can't tell anyone what you are. Both sides will come after you, you have to pick a side, that's the way it's always been."

"Why?" I demand. "Who says?"

"It's the way it is. I can't change it, you can't change it. You've chosen to leave them so you choose to be a witch. You can't come with me and still hold on to your Slayer side. You need guidance, and only the wiccans can give you that."

"I wouldn't know where to start. The covens will be broken, lost, I don't know how I can help them."

"By bringing them together and showing them hope."

A change in the wind makes my eyes flicker away from Natalia and towards four familiar faces. Sam, Megan, Sophia and Milasia appear right in front of us. I catch my breath and I glance at the ground.

"Really, Theresa? Doing a runner with no goodbye, nothing? I thought I knew you better than that," Sophia says. "Do you still think you're a hostage? Is that it?"

"No," I say.

"Then what?" she demands. "You just found out something huge and you're going to need our help to deal with it. Not hers." Sophia glares at Natalia with resentment. "You might have assisted in the death of Amara, but let's not forget you literally tried to kill us hardly a few hours ago."

"I'm sorry for that," Natalia says. "I was wrong about you." She looks at Sam. "All of you. I'm trying to make things right."

"Bullshit," Milasia sneers. "You've just found another power source to cling to and manipulate."

"She's not manipulating me," I say, laughing to myself in frustration. "It's my choice to leave, okay? Amara is dead, there is no need for me to stay. I'm not one of you, I will never be one of you."

"You are one of us," Megan says.

I blink at her.

"Theresa, you're my family," Sophia whispers. "You're the person I come to when I'm having a bad day or I've hit a dead end. You make me laugh when I'm feeling down, you tell me the truth even if it infuriates me. I have always been on your side and this is how you repay me? Just because Amara's dead do these past weeks mean nothing?"

"Sophia." I start to cry and I can't help it. This is why I didn't want to do this, now she's in my life, I don't know how to find the strength to take her from it. "I love you, like a sister, I will always be there for you. But I have to go home."

"I thought your home was with us," she says.

"We all knew it wasn't permanent."

She wipes a tear from her cheek and glares at me in fury. "Then don't bother coming back." She turns and runs.

"Sophia!" Megan shouts.

"Let her go," Sam says. I swallow when I hear his voice. "Theresa, come take a walk with me."

It takes me a few seconds to move. It's something I have to do, not because he orders it, but because I cannot live with myself not knowing. I follow him a few yards through the woods, but I keep a safe distance from him. A bird tweets from above and Sam cranks his neck to look up at it, before dropping his eyes to the floor. He has his back to me which becomes more unnerving by the second.

"If you want to go then I won't stop you," he says. "But I want the truth first."

"Okay."

"Who was your father?"

"Why?" I say. "Want to report a dead man to the demons?"

He turns around slowly. "No."

"My mother loved him, it wasn't some desperate one-night stand," I hiss. "They were together, I remember them together. Well, sort of. She cast a spell on me for the most part but things come back to me in pieces."

"That isn't what I asked."

"I don't know his name. . . she hid that from me." I scratch at my temple, trying to dig inside the spell to find it. "Doran. . . no. . ."

"Zoran," Sam says.

"What?" I mutter.

He sighs and rests his fist against a tree as he looks at me. "Zoran was my old mentor, and he told me he was getting close to a Harmon witch to earn her trust so he could get to Vienna. You would have already been born so it's unclear if. . ."

"No!" I say. "You're wrong. My mother killed my father. I saw it in a vision, another memory she kept from me."

"Whatever vision you saw, was a lie. Vienna killed Zoran. I always knew there was something he was keeping from me, I just never questioned it. And then. . . I felt your energy source. Only a Malachi could pass down that level of voltage, Theresa."

"You said it was my witch side that amplified it."

"With shields, yes. But our voltage comes from experience or bloodline. Even manifestation wouldn't interfere with it."

"My mother didn't kill him?" I mutter. "I was tricked."

"You need to understand something," he says. "No Malachi has ever had children. We learn who we are from a young age, or relatively young like Sophia, and from then training and leading is our entire life until we die. You are a conflict to our laws, some Slayers may view you as an abomination, others may view you as an heir. They could revolt against me and demand an audience with the demons. If the demons find out about you then it's over."

"I get it. I'm screwed. What's new?"

"This is serious."

"So, what?" I say, throwing my hands up. "I just return to my life as a witch and forget all about it? Or maybe I'll just abandon everything and go live with the mortals. I can't do this, Sam. I can't have this conversation and I can't choose just one part of me. For my entire life I've wanted to know who my father is. What he was like, what he smelled like, how he walked, how he talked. And now I have an actual part of him running through my blood and I've got to just. . . forget?"

"Your father was the greatest Slayer that ever lived," he says. "He was damn strict and I spent months terrified of him, but he taught me everything I know. And I know, that if he didn't tell me about you, then your life meant more to him than you can imagine."

"When did he die?"

"Thirteen years ago."

I gasp. He's watching my reaction with concern but I can't hide the shock. I was six. I must have known him, just a little. Did he brush my hair before tucking me into bed? Did he read me a story? Did he ever hug me? Was he even capable of any of that?

"Well it matches the timeline," I sniffle.

"If my last act in this world is protecting his daughter from the same creatures that may kill me for it, then I will honour that. I will honour him. Go back to Arizona and rebuild your life with the covens."

"And if I become the Elder?" I laugh. "Natalia seems to think it suits me."

"She's right." He smiles. "I couldn't think of anyone better. And as leaders, we can both call a truce and stop this war for good."

"What if it's the wrong choice?" I whisper, walking dangerously closer to him. "What if. . . being in England, in the castle, is where I'm supposed to be? What if it's where I was meant to be all along?"

"I don't think it is."

I stand so close to him that I can feel his words. Maybe I'm testing him, maybe I'm testing myself. He looks over my head and takes a deep breath.

"You better go make sure those humans made it across okay," I say. "You've got a lot of explaining to do to Tex."

"Yeah."

He finally looks down at me, his eyes are cautious and gentle. He's curious. For a moment I think he's going to transport and vanish, but I'm shocked into the kiss that I instigated. It's wrong. It's catastrophically wrong and we both know it, but we can't help it. The setting of the birds tweeting from above and the leaves crunching against my shoes as I move just a little bit closer to his chest is euphoric. His lips meet mine softly at first, like a trial run, not in too deep before we can run away from it. But then his hand rests on my spine and a shiver runs through me. The heat is indescribable. It's like being out in the Arizona sun, basking, sweating, writhing, unbearable patience. The kiss lasts a lot longer than I imagined, and I don't know what's happening but we're somehow against the tree. The kiss is stronger, my hand caressing at the leather above his shoulder, and the universe is spinning and screaming all at once. It's wrong. So wrong. It can start a war that neither of us want.

But then why does it feel this right? Why does it feel like for the first time in my life, I'm alive?

He is the first to pull away, or rather push me away. He charges away from the tree, wiping his face with the back of his sleeve. He won't even look at me.

"Go," he says.

"You are the best person at self-control that I've ever met," I say. "So, don't even try to fight your feelings on this one. I might be your regret, but I won't be your shame. Goodbye."

He doesn't respond, but he doesn't leave either. I walk away from him as he just stands there, in the middle of the woods, reflecting on his short moment of madness. It kills me to walk away. I never wanted it to end like that, with uncertainty, with confusion.

That's all I have left now.

"Finally!" Natalia shouts angrily. She's alone, and I'm glad. "What the hell were you doing? Counting leaves?"

"I don't want to talk about it. Let's go."

"You made the right choice," she says. "My car isn't far. We'll be in Arizona before nightfall."

"Great."

I'm questioning my choice, as would anyone. Whether it's the right one can only be proven in time. And time is what we're running out of.