Haunted Legacy: The Windhaven Witches Series by Carissa Andrews (story reading .txt) 📗

“All right,” he says, smirking slightly. “Let’s bring on the Fates, then. Maybe they’ll back me up here.”

With the tip of my head, I lift open my laptop and pull my notebook out of my backpack. This afternoon’s conversation has my mind spinning in a thousand directions, and none of them are focused on this research project.

Wade stands up, pulling his chair over to my side and setting it down inches from mine.

I shoot him a look of surprise, but he sits down, holding his hands up innocently. “I need to see the screen, too. No laptop over here.”

Nodding softly, I turn back to the laptop and type ‘the fates’ into Google. It brings us to a page on the Moirai. For some reason, this name rings a bell, but I can’t quite put my finger on why. I’m fairly certain I’ve never heard the name before and we didn’t even get this far when Wade had come over.

I lean forward and scan the result. “It says here they control the thread of life for every mortal from birth to death. One sister is the ‘spinner,’ another the ‘allotter,’ and the last is the ‘inevitable.’ I suppose that means death?” I say, chancing a sideways glance. Wade’s close proximity makes my pulse race and his scent does absolutely nothing to clear my head. If anything, it cracks my resolve and makes me question what in the hell I’m thinking.

“Well, it might mean the one who calls upon death, but she wouldn’t be death itself. We know that already,” he says with a tip of his chin.

“Good point,” I nod, turning back to the screen. “Ah, it says here she merely chooses the manner of a person’s death and the time frame it happens in.”

Wade tips his head, reading. “So, while the other sisters create and maintain the thread of life, this last one—Aisa—she cuts the string with some sort of magical shears.” He leans back a bit, his eyebrows furrowed.

“I know that look. What is it?” I ask.

“I dunno. It just kinda seems a bit ludicrous, doesn’t it? I mean, who writes these things? A thread? Shears?” He chuckles. “It’s like someone asked a kid to explain the ways of the universe and then just wrote down what they said.”

“I take it this doesn’t jibe with what you know?”

“Not exactly. But then, who am I? Sure, I have access to this school for now, but I won’t unlock any of my family’s gifts until much later. So everything I know could be bunk. But this…it sounds like a fairy tale gone wrong. Don’t you think?” he asks, meeting my gaze. “I mean, if it were really that simple, why hasn’t someone tracked down the Moirai and stolen those damn shears? Hypothetically, it could mean they’d live forever, right?”

“Well, maybe it has nothing to do with the shears per se, but more about the entity wielding them? For all you know, any shears she holds becomes magical,” I say, playing devil’s advocate. “Heck, maybe she could even bite the damn thread and it would end a life? As long as the cord is cut, that’s the end of that, so to speak.”

Wade shrugs. “A fair point.”

“You don’t look convinced?” I say, lowering my eyebrows.

“It’s not that.”

“What then?” I ask.

“It seems like an awful lot of fuss for each mortal life. You know? Three larger-than-life entities, all working to balance the lifespans of humans. I mean, as the population grows, so do the number of Angels of Death, for example. How in the hell could three sisters manage all of that?” Wade says, scrunching his face.

I shake my head. “Don’t look at me. Until last year, the strangest things on my mind revolved around whether or not forensic scientists could really figure out a death by blood spatter.”

Wade snickers. “Yeah, things have gotten significantly more outlandish.”

“Well, regardless, we need to learn what we can so we can pass this presentation. Then, whether or not they exist becomes irrelevant, I suppose,” I laugh.

“Yeah, unless one comes knocking on your door,” he says, leaning over and bumping his shoulder into mine.

“Let’s hope not. At least, not for a very long time,” I say, shuddering.

We spend the next two and a half hours digging through all of the known history archived at the Windhaven Academy on the Moirai. By the time we’re done, I have more questions than answers in terms of who the Fates are and whether or not they’re even real or simply a metaphor. Separating fact from fiction is certainly difficult, to say the least. For some reason, none of the documentation at Windhaven Academy seems to separate out where the stories began or if there have ever been any true sightings.

On the upside, the discussion in class should be entertaining, if nothing else. Especially if Wade has anything to do with it. I can already see him opening up a discussion on how the Hellmouth is more plausible.

Wade leans forward, thumping his head onto the table beside me. “I tap out. I can’t research this anymore.”

I chuckle. “Yeah, me either. I think we have enough to at least sound like we know what we’re talking about. Don’t you?”

“God, let’s hope so,” he says, his voice muffled by the tabletop.

Reaching down, I grab my backpack. “All right then, it looks like we can head out.”

Still leaning forward, Wade tips his head up, leaving his chin on the table. “Wanna get a bite to eat? I mean, it’s almost 7:00 p.m. and I don’t know about you, but I’m starving.”

“Wade… I don’t know if that’s such a good idea,” I warn.

“Come on, Autumn. It’s just food. Please?” he asks, sitting all the way up and pressing his hands together in prayer position. “Don’t make me eat alone.”

I stare at him for a moment, then exhale in defeat. “Fine.”

“Excellent,” he says, suddenly hopping off of his chair and reaching for the back of mine.

“I got it,” I say, shooting him a sideways glance.

“As you