Cursed Legacy: The Windhaven Witches Series

by Carissa Andrews

  Breathe

  Before I even reach Wade, Mom is on the phone behind me, sputtering out words like “ambulance” and “hurry.”

  I scramble off of my stool, dropping to my knees beside him. “Wade,” I cry out, pressing my hands to his shoulders.

  He groans in agony, clutching at his chest as the rest of his body writhes on the tiles.

  “I don’t understand. How can I help you? What’s happening?” My words tumble out in a higher octave as I try to calm him down, but I don’t know how to do that when I can’t calm myself.

  He groans incomprehensibly, and his silver eyes widen, begging me to stop whatever’s tormenting him. Reaching up with his left hand, he tugs at his t-shirt collar, exposing the upper part of his clavicle and chest. The mark left by his father is clearly evident, but dark spidery lines emanate from the jagged circle, spreading outward across his chest and snaking their way up his neck.

  Out of shock and terror, I pull my hands back. “Oh, my god, what is that?”

  Still clutching the phone to her ear, Mom drops down beside me. She pulls back the fabric from Wade’s chest, eyeing the mark and its new infection with the expression of a surgeon.

  “Is this the mark he was given?” she asks, turning her concerned gaze on me.

  I nod frantically. “But it shouldn’t look like this. There’s something wrong.”

  Wade’s body clenches forward, and he gropes again at his chest.

  “Do you smell that?” he repeats, trying to reach out for me. His pupils are fully dilated and wild with panic.

  I press my hand to his forehead, trying to soothe him. “No, Wade. I don’t smell anything.” Turning to Mom, she meets my gaze with uneasiness clear in her eyes.

  Setting the phone down on the counter, she presses her hands to his chest and closes her eyes. I hold my breath, watching her.

  After a moment, she releases her hands and sighs. “I don’t know what this is. It’s obviously a reaction to the mark—but I’m not sure what’s caused it. The ambulance is on its way. Hopefully, the doctors can find more to go on.”

  “No, no doctors,” Wade sputters, shaking his head.

  “Honey, you’re not dying on my kitchen floor,” Mom says, pressing his head back down to the tile. “Now, just relax for a minute, okay?”

  “Dying?” I cry.

  Mom shifts her hazel eyes to me, holding my gaze for the longest minute of my life. Finally she says, “Something is very, very wrong here. He’s treading a thin line… Can’t you sense it?”

  My pulse skyrockets and tears swell in my eyes. “No—he doesn’t even know…” I shake my head. “Absolutely not. Do you hear me, Wade. You stay with me.”

  Suddenly, there’s a booming on the front door and Mom is on her feet, racing to open it.

  Two men the size of tanks rush in with a stretcher in between them. As they enter, they drop the stretcher and it clangs loudly on the tiles. One of them kneels on the floor beside me while the other one places a gentle hand on my shoulder. He asks me something, but I have no idea what. All I know is I’m suddenly being tugged to my feet.

  I reach out for Wade, not wanting to leave his side. Tears stream down my cheeks and I’m acutely aware that my own words are incoherent.

  Mom wraps her arms around me, holding me close as the two men assess Wade on the cold, gray tile. Her presence radiates, and I can’t help but lean into it. I raise a trembling hand to my mouth, trying to squelch the terror rising in the back in my throat.

  The first man cuts open Wade’s shirt, revealing the extent of the mark and its infection. The dark tendrils go clear down his abdomen and wrap up and around his shoulder to his back.

  “We’re going to need to get him to the hospital,” the second man says, twisting around to face us. His dark, chocolate-brown eyes are empathetic as he stands up.

  Rushing past me, he grabs the stretcher, dropping it beside Wade’s body. Together, the two of them lift Wade up and onto the mesh of fabric, metal, and plastic.

  “Ready?” Burly guy number one asks, setting his blue eyes on the empathetic one, who nods in return.

  My head is a swirly cyclone of confusion and panic as they lift him up and start to remove Wade from the kitchen. But the motion of it is the kick in the ass I need.

  “Wait!” I cry out. “I’m coming with you.”

  I follow them outside, watching them carefully maneuver the snow-covered walkways.

  When we get to the back of the ambulance, they hoist Wade inside with ease, clearly used to this sort of thing. Their calm demeanor is almost unnerving as the brown-eyed man turns back to me.

  “What’s your relationship to this man?” he asks, holding onto the doorway and blocking my entry.

  Anger courses through my body and I practically scream at him, “I’m his girlfriend.”

  He shakes his head, “I’m sorry. Only family can be in the ambulance with us. You’ll have to meet us at the hospital.”

  “Are you kidding me?” I growl, getting ready to punch my way onto that ambulance if I have to.

  “We’ll follow you,” Mom says, suddenly by my side. I hadn’t even noticed her standing there. “Come on, Autumn. Let them focus on doing their job. We’ll be right behind them.”

  I unclench my fists, swallowing hard. “Fine.”

  Spinning on my heel, I race back to the house, grabbing my purse and keys.

  When I get back to the driveway, Mom is sitting in the driver’s seat of Blue, with the door wide open. “Pass the keys. You’re in no condition to drive.”

  I don't have the willpower to argue. I toss the keys and race around to the other side. By the time I take my seat, the ambulance is starting to pull away. Mom takes off after it, staying right on its tail.

  “How is this happening?” I whisper, fighting back the return of tears. “I don’t know what to do.”

  “I don’t know if there’s anything you can do, sweetie. We need more information,” Mom says, reaching out and placing her hand on my arm.

  My eyes widen with her words and I reach into my front pocket. I tug out my cell phone and dial the one person I know who might be able to see what’s happening—Diana Hawthorne.

  The phone rings twice before she picks up. “Hey there, Autumn. Now’s not a—” she pauses for a moment and sighs. “Oh god, Autumn. I’m sorry. I know this is important, but I’m right in the middle of something dire, too.”

  “But I need your help,” I plead.

  “I know you do. I’m so sorry to have to say no to this. I know it’s a shitty thing to do, but you’re going to need to turn to someone else.”

  “Someone else? Who the hell else has any sort of insights about the future?” I cry.

  Mom takes the final turn to the hospital, rounding the corner a little too quickly. My insides clench as I grip the handle of the door.

  “Call Dominic. He’s the best one to help you,” she says. “Shit, I gotta go. I’m sorry, Autumn. Call Dominic.” She hangs up without even saying good-bye.

  “Dammit.” Without thinking, I close my fist and punch the dashboard.

  Pain vibrates through my hand, but for a moment, there’s clarity in the discomfort. She’s right. If she’s unable, or unwilling, to help me—then I need to follow her advice. I’ll need to call Dominic.

  The ambulance pulls into the emergency room port and Mom pulls into one of the first spots near the main entrance doors. As soon as the car is no longer in motion, I grab my purse and hop out.

  Mom curses something behind me, but I don’t stop to let her catch up. I need to get inside. I need to be with Wade.

  I rush up to the main desk, waiting for the slight, blond woman to get off the phone. It only takes a moment, but it’s long enough for me to be annoyed.

  “Can I help you?” she asks, her voice calm and almost melodic.

  I take a deep breath, trying to calm myself down. “Yes, I need to see my boyfriend. They just brought him in the ambulance.”

  The woman’s
fingers click against the keyboard as she turns her gaze to the monitor in front of her.

  When she’s taking too long to say anything, I spit, “His name is Wade Hoffman. He can’t be alone—he doesn’t have any family. It’s just me.”

  “And you are?”

  “His girlfriend,” I say, a little too loudly.

  “I’m sorry—”

  “So help me, if you tell me I can’t be with him because I’m not married to him, I’ll punch your goddamn nose,” I yell at her, practically climbing over the counter that separates us.

  Mom reaches out, tugging me back. “Autumn, let the woman do her job.” Her words are powerful, pulling me back from the edge of total insanity. I turn to look at her and she tips her chin and says, “Breathe.”

  The adrenaline coursing through my veins begins to wane and I’m suddenly dizzy with exhaustion.

  “No one is allowed in while they assess the patient. Relatives or not,” the woman says, settling back into her seat, relief clear across her face. “If you can just take a seat while they try to figure out what’s wrong, that’s the best thing you can do for your boyfriend right now.”

  My shoulders slump as Mom grabs hold of them, turning me to face the seating area. “Thank you, dear. We appreciate it,” she says to the lady behind the counter.

  Mom guides me to the small alcove with uncomfortable-looking seats. The space is decorated with soft pastel colors and fake plants—clearly trying to bring as much calm to the waiting process as possible, but it falls flat.

  “Sit down, Autumn,” Mom says, pointing to a seat near the window.

  I shake my head, walking out of her grasp as she takes her own seat. Instead, I pace in front of her, unable to shake the anxiety rolling through me.

  “No, I need to call Dominic,” I say, turning from her and pulling out my phone again.

  Mom’s eyes widen, but her mouth snaps shut as I place the phone to my ear.

  Again, the phone rings a couple of times before Dominic answers. “Let me guess, Autumn’s in trouble again.” He chuckles softly under his breath for a moment.

  My throat goes dry as I try to form the words to relay the importance in this mission. I know I suck already. I don’t need to be reminded that I only call when I need help.

  Dominic waits for me to respond, not even offering to search the future to see why I’m calling.

  “Dominic, something has happened to Wade. Diana can’t help me,” I finally say.

  “So you thought you’d call me,” he says. “I love being a last resort. It makes me feel super special.”

  I roll my eyes, walking away from Mom and looking out the window on the opposite end of the waiting room. “Wade could be dying and there’s something supernatural going on with him. Diana thinks you’ll be the best one to help with this. That’s why I’m calling you. I hate that it seems like I only call when I need something—”

  “Because it’s true?” Dominic interjects.

  “Even if it’s true, it doesn’t make this any less important. Wade’s mark—the one his father gave him—is infected or something. We’re at the hospital now. He’s in the ER and I…” I break off, fighting the tears and the quiver in my voice.

  Dominic sighs. After a long pause, he says, “Okay, I’ll help you figure out what’s going on with loverboy. But you’ll have to do me a favor first.”

  Chapter 12

  Life, Death, & Metamorphosis

  My mouth drops open in utter incredulousness. “You have got to be kidding me?”

  I tell Dominic my boyfriend is in the actual emergency room, possibly dying for all I know, and the only thing he can think about is what he can get out of it? Unreal.

  “Nope, that’s the deal or no dice,” he says, his voice like cold steel. “I’m sick of being the gopher and last resort in your little world. I have needs, too, and you can help with those needs.”

  My stomach rolls at the way he says the words and my mind automatically goes to a worst-case scenario. “What are you talking about? What needs?” I hiss, clutching the phone close and praying my mom doesn’t have supersonic hearing or something.

  “I know you’re not big on the whole Windhaven Academy thing anymore, but I’m trying to level up. The new semester starts in a couple of weeks and I want to go into it as powerful as possible,” he states matter-of-factly.

  I shake my head, unable to process a thing he’s asking about. I’m talking life and death and he’s talking leveling up his abilities. Why am I even surprised?

  “You are the most ridiculous, self-centered—” I spit.

  “Cut the crap, Autumn. You’re the only one who can help me with this,” he says, cutting off my tirade. “It’s fortuitous timing you should come to me right now.”

  “What in the hell do you need?” I snap, unable to hide the venom in my words.

  For a long, silent moment, I hold my breath, waiting for him to explain himself.

  “I need you to bring me back,” he finally says, his words barely louder than a whisper.

  “What?” I say, narrowing my eyes and glaring at the fake hibiscus plant in the corner.

  “Look, here’s the thing. I need to level up my psychic powers. As great as they seem to everyone else, they’re nothing more than parlor tricks, really. But in order to trigger a metamorphosis like this… I need to face death,” he says calmly.

  “Level up? Metamorphosis? What kind of bullshit is this? You’re not a damn butterfly, Dominic. You better not be pulling my chain. This is not the time for that if you are…” I warn.

  “If I can trigger the metamorphosis, it means my abilities extend further, into the realms of the ancients. It’ll help not just me, but you, too, by the sounds of it,” he says. “It’s not really all that complicated to understand.”

  I gape at the wall, walking away from where I was standing to pace again. “That’s the most ridiculous reason to die. You realize that’s what this is, right? Haven’t you seen Flatliners?”

  “I know what it sounds like,” he retorts. “But it’s not a game.”

  I roll my eyes. “Pretty sure it wasn’t a game in the film, either…”

  Dominic grunts. “Look, you have your thing and I have mine, dammit. Every time you’ve needed me, I’ve been there and helped, haven’t I? Why is it so hard to believe that maybe I have something you can help with? What’s the deal, Autumn? You can take, but you can’t give? Or do you only help the Gilberts or that angel boyfriend of yours? Is that it?” he fires back.

  I cringe at his words, but let them sink in. He’s right. He may be reluctant at times, but he’s always helped when we needed him. It’s just that his timing sucks ass.

  “Fine,” I say, dropping my shoulders in defeat. “I’ll help you.”

  What other choice do I have? I don’t know if the doctors will be able to locate the source of Wade’s infection fast enough and I’m not about to wait around for him to die.

  “Excellent. How soon can you be here?” Dominic asks, his tone brightening.

  My eyes widen and I look around the waiting room. My mom’s concerned stare reaches me and I shudder. “I can’t come to you. I’m in Mistwood Point. Wade’s in the ER here.”

  “Well, how do you think you’ll bring me back, then?”

  “I don’t know, Dominic. But I’m pretty sure we can make it work.”

  “Hell, no. I thought you’d need the resurrection room’s energy. And maybe even Abigail to make this work. It’s not like you’re super adept at the whole resurrection thing yet. I’d feel a lot better if you had some damn backup. I don’t wanna die and stay dead, for crying out loud,” he says, raising his voice.

  “Fuck,” I curse. My eyes slam shut, and I run my hand over my forehead. “Fine. Fine. I’m on my way. Meet me at the manor in two hours.”

  “No—no. You need to meet me at my house first,” he says, sighing. There’s something strange hidden in his tone, but before I can tell him where to shove it, he mutters, “I don’t have a car
right now.”

  My face pinches tight and I fight the urge to say that’s karma for carving up my bumper before we ever met. Instead, I say through gritted teeth, “And why is that?”

  Silence meets me for a moment. Just when I think I’m going to tell him where to shove it, he says, “It got repossessed, if you must know. Not everyone is as well-off as the mighty Blackwoods.”

  My mouth pops open and a pang of guilt stabs me in the side. As much as he can rub me the wrong way, Dominic has clearly been going through his own shit—and I had no idea. I’m such a shit friend.

  “Sorry, Dom. I didn’t know,” I say.

  “Whatever. We got our own lives. Can you come get me or not?”

  “All right, your place it is. Be ready.”

  “I was born ready,” he retorts.

  “Yeah, and on that note…” I hang up the phone, rolling my eyes.

  Inhaling slowly through my nose, I take a beat to consider my options one last time. Because, let’s face it, is this really the best use of my time? What if shit goes sideways and I can’t bring Dominic back? What if he comes back…wrong? It’s not like things were super-stellar with Cat when I brought her back. Part of her soul split off and became a Fetch, for godsake.

  But on the other side, I don’t know how I’ll find the information I need to help Wade if I don’t. This is clearly magical or supernatural in nature. And if Diana can’t help me, Dominic really is my next-best option.

  Plus, if I leave now, there’s a chance I can get all the information I need in just a few hours. It’s likely Wade will be in there for a while anyway and time is of the essence. I can’t just sit here in this hospital waiting for someone to help him or…

  Shuddering away the thought, I rush over to my mom.

  The place between her eyebrows scrunches as I approach. “Where are you going?”

  “The manor. I have someone who can help me. Well, help Wade… But I need to be there in person,” I say, trying to keep my tone light.

  “Now’s not a good time, Autumn. You really shouldn’t drive when you’re so upset. It’s not safe,” she says, her tone as cold as ice.