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

“So, looks like you managed to find your way back,” Dominic says. “Gotta admit, I’m kinda relieved.”

I grin. “Thanks. I’m relieved to be back, too. And…” My forehead scrunches as I search for the words. “Thank you. Thank all of you.”

My gaze falls on Colton’s worried face and I stand up. Walking over to him, I throw my arms around him, barely acknowledging the way my arms burst into the strange blue and orange flames.

“Had you not been able to get my dad’s remains to the catacombs…” I whisper. “None of this would have worked.”

“You would have found a way,” he says, shooting me a lopsided grin.

I shake my head. “I don’t know if I would have. After how hard that was—letting go of my dad—I don’t think I would have been able to handle physically being around his remains.”

Colton’s lips press into a thin line and his chin tips upward. “I’m glad I was at least able to do that much.”

“Don’t sell yourself short. It was a lot,” I say, releasing him.

Twisting around, I search the darkness for Wade and Cat. “Where are the others? Are they not back yet?”

Diana shakes her head. “Not yet, but I’m sure they will be soon.”

I nod. “I can’t believe this is all over. It feels sorta…”—I pause, trying to find the right word—“surreal.”

“It’s not over yet,” Diana says, her face darkening. “Your family has pissed off some entities in high places. Dark days are still coming.”

My eyebrows tug in and I frown. “Yeah, I know,” I say, tracing my fingertips over my lips.

“Autumn?” Wade’s voice filters through the darkness.

I look up, searching for him. The brush rustles as he races through the trees, then breaks into a sprint when he hits the yard. As soon as he reaches me, his warm embrace consumes me and I sink into him, wishing we could stay this way forever.

“Are you all right? You’re not hurt?” he asks, pulling back and checking me over.

“I’m fine. Everything’s fine—thanks to you both,” I say, reaching out to Cat as she walks up behind Wade. Hugging her as well, I’m so thankful to have them both on my side and in my life.

They’ve risked so much for me and I don’t know how I’ll ever repay them. Any of them.

I pull back, my gaze floating around the group of misfits standing with me.

This may be my family’s fight, but I know now that we’re all somehow bound together to fight all of this. I don’t know how it will all play out yet, but I do know that I need them.

The porch light flicks on and Mrs. Gilbert walks out, wiping her hands on an apron.

“Come on, everyone. It’s late. Time to come inside. I’ve made up some stew. I’m sure you’re starving,” she says, standing at the top of the porch stairs.

“Oh, yes, please,” Dominic says, bounding up the stairs two at a time.

Mrs. Gilbert chuckles, turning around and following him.

One by one the others all head inside. Wade and I linger, letting them all do their thing.

“I was so scared. I couldn’t stop thinking about Dominic’s warning,” Wade whispers, running the back of his hand along my cheek.

“You didn’t have to worry,” I say, closing my eyes and leaning into his touch.

As much as I thought I could feel with my astral body, there’s still nothing like the actual physical sensations—especially those of his touch.

“Never gonna happen,” he whispers.

“I don’t even know if an astral form could possess someone,” I say.

“Let’s hope we never have to find out,” he whispers. “Come on, let’s get inside.”

Nodding, we turn to make our way up the steps.

Suddenly, an inky black cloud forms in the space between the porch steps and the doorway. Wade’s dad steps out of it, blocking our way into the Gilberts’ house.

“Dad?” Wade says, surprise clear in the simple word.

My heart thrums in my chest and I race up the steps. “My dad—?”

The Angel of Death holds out a hand, stopping me in my tracks. “Your father has ascended. I’m not here for you.”

I turn to face Wade with wide eyes. His expression is just as concerned as mine.

“It was a simple request—stay away from the necromancer. Why could you not listen?” Wade’s father asks. His eyes flash with concern more than anger, but I can’t figure out why.

“You know why,” Wade says, reaching for my hand. “I love her—and I’m not going anywhere.”

“Please, I need you to reconsider,” his dad says, inhaling sharply.

Wade snickers, shaking his head. “No, I don’t need to reconsider anything. I’m right where I’m supposed to be.” He looks over his shoulder at me, smiling.

I swallow hard, my heart constricting. I love him so much. More than I ever should. But not more than he deserves.

“Wade, I warned you… I tried to reason with you, but you didn’t listen,” his dad says grimly.

“That’s new, how?” Wade chuckles softly.

“This is no laughing matter, Wade. Thanks to your association, the Moirai have turned their attention to our own family. To you,” he says, pressing his lips tightly.

“No,” I breathe, covering my mouth with my fingertips.

“I’m sorry, son. I have no other choice but to release you from your birthright,” the Angel of Death says, taking two huge strides toward his son.

Wade stumbles backward, but his father manages to get ahold of him, wrapping his left hand around Wade’s upper arm. Crying out in surprise, Wade tries to pull away, but he’s no match for his father’s strength.

Then, pressing his right hand to Wade’s chest, bright orange and white light streams from underneath his father’s hand, bursting out in all directions, and escaping through the fabric of Wade’s shirt.

The stench of burnt flesh floods the air as Wade scrambles to get away. I wrap my arms around him like a cloak, holding him close, for what little it does. My pulse races and nothing feels safe.

“What did you do?” Wade cries, clutching at his