Cursed Legacy: The Windhaven Witches Series

by Carissa Andrews

“What about my child? If I do this,” I sputter, remembering what Abigail had said.

  “That is a dilemma, I’m not going to lie,” she says. “Becoming a sin-eater means accepting the past regressions of those you take on. It affects you, body and soul, until you are brought to the gates of judgement. When your body is a shared entity…”

  “I won’t do that to my child,” I sputter, shaking my head and backing away.

  “There is a way…” Lachesis says, shooting me a sideways glance. Her eyes flicker with a glow all their own.

  “What is it?” I ask breathlessly.

  She leans in closer. “Sin-eaters typically deal in the land of the living. Everyone has sins they need to atone for. When sin-eaters take on the sins of others, they do it so they do not suffer into the afterlife. So their lineage does not suffer and curses aren’t born.” Lachesis holds my gaze for a moment, letting her words sink in.

  “Are you saying what I think you’re saying?” I ask.

  “If you go back far enough, say, taking on the sins of Warren and Abigail, what do you think might happen?” she says, taking a step back to give me space to consider.

  I tug my eyebrows in, confused. “That would break the family curse. Abigail would be free to cross over.”

  “Ah, well, yes. But it’s more significant than that,” she says raising a finger. “Ordinarily, you wouldn’t be able to consume the sins of a lost relative. Once they’ve left for the afterlife, your chance is lost. However, when a remnant exists...” Lachesis pauses, cocking her head slightly, “such as Abigail. Should you consume the sins keeping her in this realm, the act erases those sins completely. As in, it wipes them from existence.”

  “Okay?” I say, not quite following her train of logic.

  She shrugs. “Granted, they would still be etched into your soul—and that’s something you’ll have to be judged for at the time of your death. But it would spare your child.”

  “So, let me get this straight… All I have to do is start my sin-eating with Abigail?”

  “Yes.” She nods.

  “What’s the catch?” I say, shaking my head. “That seems way too convenient. Am I sent to hell or something?”

  Lachesis scrunches her face. “Well, where you would be sent to after judgement is hard to say. I cannot be certain. I’m not the one at the scales. However, what I do know is this… Should you accept the sins of Abigail—the act erases everything. The curse, your family’s history with the curse…” She clasps her hands together, intertwining her fingers. Slowly, she raises both index fingers and presses them against her lips. She watches me closely, but continues. “This also means you, poor Wade here, and your child would be free of the curse. Debts paid in full, and all that.”

  “Well, that’s all I need to know, then. Where do I sign up?” I say, breathing a sigh of relief. If there’s a way to save them all—what more do I need? Of course, I’ll take it.

  Her face darkens and she eyes me from under her brows. “An act such as this alters time, Autumn. Accepting the sins upon yourself erases them from history. I’m not sure you’re understanding the gravity of this. It could be that your family makes different decisions. Your life may take a different path. Maybe at the end of things, you never meet Wade, never fall in love…” She bites her lip. “Never have a child together.”

  “What?” I blurt, my voice trembling. She’s right, I wasn’t understanding the gravity at all. Not even a little bit.

  “This is the only way,” Lachesis says, placing a hand on my shoulder.

  I shrug away from her touch and back away. “No—no, no. That can’t be the only way.”

  I’d do anything to help those I love. But this?

  How do I choose between freeing everyone from the burden of this curse…when the cost is possibly erasing my relationship with Wade—and even the life of our child?

  Chapter 21

  Pulling the Strings

  I can’t help but wonder… Has Fate been pulling the strings all along?

  Here I thought I might have had the upper hand, even if it was only for a brief moment. Dominic seemed to think forcing me into the realm of the dead was the only way to make a move without the Fates overhearing, yet here we are. Two of the three were more than well-informed.

  They’re actually cheering me on.

  “Look, kiddo, I know this isn’t the choice you wanted, but it’s the one before you. Regardless, if you’re going to make a move, whatever it is, it needs to be soon. Aisa’s been given her instructions and she’ll be coming for you both soon enough,” Lachesis says, pressing her lips tight.

  “How do you expect me to make a decision like that? There has to be a better way,” I sputter.

  She shrugs, her lips sliding into somewhat of a smirk. “If you find one, I’d love to hear about it.”

  I scrunch my face, suddenly fully aware of who I’m talking to. If she doesn’t know whether or not a better way exists, how the hell am I going to?

  “Well, my time here’s up,” she chuckles quietly to herself, as if she just told an inside joke. “Good luck, Autumn. I’m rooting for you.”

  Before I have the chance to respond, she bursts into a constellation of light particles, each twinkling until they fade out of existence before my eyes.

  I stare at the spot where she stood until my legs give out and I drop to the floor, kneeling beside Wade’s bed.

  What do I do? If I follow the advice of Lachesis, am I playing right into their hands? Could it be a scheme to perpetuate this curse? Then again, what if it’s not? What if this really is the only way to make things work?

  Being a sin-eater doesn’t sound ideal—hell, it sounds downright awful when I think about it. But if it means protecting those around me, I’d damn myself to a thousand hells.

  Besides, if I don’t, what would it mean for Wade? For myself…our child?

  We’re already backed into a corner.

  There’s no telling if Lachesis was telling the truth about Wade’s mark. If she’s right and the mark was to somehow hide him from the Fates, why would his father lie to us? Does that mean Wade could still become an Angel of Death? Or will he be punished for trying to fly under their radar?

  Even if the Fates let me live long enough to give birth—and I highly doubt that—our child will be cursed just like I am. It will never end until someone puts a stop to it. Or until the Blackwoods die out completely, regardless of what other families might be entangled in the web, too.

  No, there really isn’t a choice.

  I have to do whatever I can to end the curse for us all before I run out of options. If it means trusting Lachesis’s advice, then so be it.

  A fresh sense of nausea rolls through me. I swallow hard, unsure whether it’s morning sickness or nerves. Either way, it’s my body’s response to the decision formulating and becoming more concrete. I wish things were different. I wish I had been able to tell Wade about this pregnancy and we could have talked about it. He would have been so excited—of that, I have no doubt.

  As it stands, he might never even know.

  I lift my forehead from the bed rail and look up at his resting face. For the moment, he looks so peaceful, but the inky black tendrils have managed to snake their way up to his neck. Dark-purple streaks have interwoven themselves with the black, giving off a strange air of oppression.

  Pushing up to a stand, I run my fingertips along the tendrils. “What should I do, Wade?” I whisper.

  I know what he’d tell me. He’d tell me to find another way. He’d tell me trusting the Fates—hell, trusting Dominic—was naive.

  We’d be researching sin-eaters, the lore and history, and most likely, searching for another way to make this work. But we’d end up at the same conclusion. If my father spent his whole life looking for a loophole and came up short, how can I be expected to find the answer in a few short months?

  Exhaustion threatens to pull me under and my thoughts turn into a foggy mess.

  Running my fingertips
from Wade’s collar bone to his lips, I sigh. Maybe I should just rest on this and see what I think then. It’s been a long, depleting day. Maybe some sleep, even for a little bit, would help me to clear my head.

  I look around the room, but none of the chairs look entirely comfortable. My gaze shifts back to Wade and a fresh wave of despair crashes over me. If this is my last night with him, I won’t spend it apart.

  Without another thought, I carefully move all of the wires and tubes over to the left side of the bed and crawl in beside Wade. I inch closer, resting my head on his chest and wrapping my right arm around his torso. For the longest of moments, I lay there, listening to the sound of his shallow breathing and the palpitations of his heart. Even with all that’s gone on with him, I can still feel him here with me. He’s still attached to his body, still fighting to return.

  Closing my eyes, I settle into the loaded moment, trying to pretend I can’t hear the beeping of the machines or the sounds of people in the hallway. Darkness comes for me, claiming my thoughts and I let it tug me under.

  I don’t know how long I slept, but I’m startled awake by the sounds of alarms. Blinking the away the confusion and disorientation, it takes me a moment to realize where I am and what’s actually going on.

  Nurses pour into the room, with Dr. Lockstad close behind. Her hair is pulled into a braid—different from the last time I saw her.

  “You shouldn’t be resting here,” a male nurse says, extending a hand to help me off the bed.

  “I—I know,” I say, trying to get my faculties back online.

  “I’m sorry, you’ll need to step outside, Ms. Blackwood,” Dr Lockstad says, sweeping her arm toward the door. Unlike before, there’s an edge of panic that makes my stomach lurch.

  “Is he—? He’s going to be okay, right?” I sputter, looking back at Wade and then to the monitors as I try to make sense out of what’s going on.

  Dr. Lockstad eyes the male nurse. “Can you get her out of here?”

  Without a single word, he walks over to me and presses a firm hand to my back. He ushers me toward the door. “Please go down to the waiting area. We’ll come get you as soon as we can.” His voice is far more even-keeled than the doctor’s, but still does nothing to quell the panic rising inside of me.

  I shake my head, my voice reaching a far higher octave than anticipated. “No, I won’t leave him.” I dig my heels in, refusing to leave the room.

  Without warning, a black cloud unfolds in the middle of the room. It starts small and expands outward until Wade’s dad walks out.

  At first, I’m almost relieved to see him, until I realize what it could actually mean.

  “No, no…” I say, shaking my head in warning to him.

  “Goddamn it. Even when I know this is a supernatural case, I never expect stuff like this to actually happen in my hospital,” Dr. Lockstad says, pressing her fingertips to her chest and exhaling slowly.

  “This is Wade’s dad,” I say, my voice rising to a higher octave.

  “I don’t care who he is,” she spits back. “Please—the two of you need to step into the hall. We need to work here.”

  Wade’s father turns his piercing stare to her. His silver gaze floats up and down her length, as if sussing out whether or not it’s worth fighting her or not. Instead, his gaze moves past her and rests on Wade. For a moment, his features soften.

  “Very well,” he says. Without another word, he walks out into the hallway.

  I stand in the middle of the room with my mouth hanging open. But after a moment, I follow him, afraid to be left alone in the room with all the commotion.

  “You can’t take him,” I say, jutting out my chin in defiance.

  But deep down, even before he says a word, I know if he’s here to take Wade, there’s nothing I can do to stop him.

  People in the hallway stop to stare at us, but I can’t even bring myself to care.

  “You know as well as I do, it’s his time,” the Angel of Death says, his voice nothing more than a hint above a whisper.

  “I don’t understand. Why can’t you do something? Stop this—” I plead, pointing back to Wade’s room. “It’s too early. He’s too young.”

  “You know very well my powers are limited,” he says, a hint of sadness hidden in his tone. “As much as I’d like to change his course, I still have to bend to the direction things have been taken.”

  “What about the mark? What’s going to happen to him if he—” the word gets stuck in my throat and I fight the urge to be sick.

  Even after all the death I’ve seen, this is one I can’t accept.

  He straightens his shoulders, but doesn’t say anything at first.

  “You lied to us about what it was,” I say, clenching my fists.

  His lips are a thin line, but he nods. “It was for your own protection. If you were to know what it truly was, I was afraid it would do more harm than good.”

  A peculiar sense of relief washes over me. “So, he’s not expelled?”

  The Angel of Death eyes me silently for a moment. “No.”

  Solace mixes with anger. All this time, we thought he no longer had the legacy of powers. That he was mortal, but in just as much danger as I am. And while that might be true, he’s actually safe. He might die, yes. But he’ll come back. He just won’t be human. He’ll be forced to do his work as—

  “I’m pregnant. Did you know that?” I blurt out. “If I can survive this—our child will be without a father. You know what that did to Wade. How can you allow this to happen?”

  My phone starts ringing in my pocket, but I don’t dare remove my glare from Wade’s father to check it.

  The Angel of Death’s eyes flash with a mixture of hurt and anger and he steps forward, suddenly looming over me. “I have done nothing but try to protect the two of you. Much to the detriment of my own safety—as well as his, I might add. If I interfere any more, the results would be far more catastrophic.”

  “More catastrophic? Is that meant to be funny?”

  “Child, your pitiful human existence is a blip on the map of the universal flow. What do you think would happen if the Angel of Death’s lineage were to be cursed the way your family has been?”

  I take a step back, considering his words. “I…I don’t know,” I admit.

  “It would be the start of annihilation,” he says, his nostrils flaring.

  “Why do you think I tried so hard to keep you two apart?” he says, his forehead a cluster of contempt. “I don’t want him to miss out on his family the way I did. But there were signs—far before you and Wade ever met. The signs all pointed to two possibilities. Wade’s early death or the end of the delicate balance of existence. I thought if I could just keep the two of you apart…”

  All of a sudden, a loud, persistent alarm sounds from Wade’s room. I turn, horrified by the screech of it because I know exactly what it means.

  Wade’s heart is flatlining.

  Chapter 22

  The Only Way Forward

  I turn to the doorway, my heart in my throat.

  The monitors continue to squeal their death cry and Dr. Lockstad rushes back and forth in a flurry of activity. Both nurses flit around like bats, hitting different locations in the room and handing things to her as she barks out orders.

  “No, no—it’s too soon. I’m not ready,” I squeal, spinning back to Wade’s dad. “Do something. Stop this.”

  His face hardens, but he doesn’t make a single move.

  “Goddamn it,” I spit. “You’re the Angel of Death, for fucksake. You’re telling me you’re just gonna sit this one out?” Twisting on my heel, I plan to rush straight into the room and do whatever I can.

  To hell with the rules.

  I’d damn myself and everyone in this whole godforsaken world to have him safe and sound.

  Instead, I’m pulled up short as Wade’s dad grabs hold of my wrist. “I know what you’re thinking, but you can’t go in there. You’ll do more harm than good. Trust me. Yo
u have a bigger role to play than that.” His silver eyes bore through me, breaking my heart a little bit more.

  “But—”

  Suddenly, my phone goes off again, making me jump. This time, I pull myself out of the Angel of Death’s grip and yank it from my pocket.

  I press the answer button without even looking at who’s calling.

  “What the fuck did you do?” Diana Hawthorne says, not lending to any pleasantries.

  My mouth falls open and for the briefest of moments, I’m pulled from my utter anguish to be completely confused.

  “What do you mean?” I say, shaking my head. “I didn’t do anything.”

  “Yeah, well, the universe begs to differ,” she laments. “You’ve pissed off some seriously big players.”

  I exhale, dropping my gaze to the tiles, and running my fingertips along my forehead. “Tell me something I don’t know. Do you have anything useful?”

  “Well, I could have warned you, if you would have answered your damn phone,” she laments. “We’re on our way, but you need to do some serious backpedaling. Where are you? Who are you with?”

  “I’m at the hospital with Wade. He’s—” my voice cracks and I can’t bring myself to say the rest. Instead, my eyes dart to his bed as the medical personal continue to do their best to bring him back.

  “Things are shifting too fast for me to get a clear read. Whatever is going on, it sent me into a brain-splitting, migraine-inducing vision that yanked me straight out of a dead sleep. The world’s about to go supernova and from best I can tell, you’re at the epicenter,” Diana says, her words spewing out hard and fast.

  “Don’t be ridiculous,” I say, looking over my shoulder at Wade’s dad.

  The Angel of Death’s eyes are focused into the hospital room, but a new look of apprehension has replaced his previous reserve.

  “What is it?” I say, twisting back to the room with the phone still clutched to my ear.

  The nurses and doctors take a step back, their faces grim.

  “I’m going to call it,” Dr. Lockstad says, looking at her wrist. “Time of death, 1:43 a.m.”