The Windhaven Witches Omnibus Edition : Complete Paranormal Suspense Series, Books 1-4

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The Windhaven Witches Omnibus Edition : Complete Paranormal Suspense Series, Books 1-4 Page 7

by Carissa Andrews


  The two of us stand in awkward silence for a moment before I crack open the Red Bull and take a sip.

  “So,” I start.

  “So—” Dad repeats.

  “I guess, I’ll head back to my room and get situated.”

  “Of course. Yeah. You do what you need to do,” Dad nods.

  I cast a tiny wave his direction. “Thanks, Dad. See you in the morning.”

  “Night, sweetie,” he says. I can tell he’d like me to stay a bit longer, though, because his smile doesn’t quite reach his eyes.

  I make my way out into the entryway and down the hallway leading to my room. Suddenly, the same cold sensation from earlier flashes over me. I shudder and turn to look over my shoulder.

  This old house must be super drafty.

  I turn back around, taking a few more steps, when I swear I hear a woman’s voice whisper, “Welcome home, Autumn.”

  Chapter 8

  Do You Think I'm Nuts?

  Twisting back around, I see absolutely no one in the hallway. It’s just me, myself, and I. Blinking away the shock, I clutch the ornate door handle to my bedroom and step inside. Two strides into the room, I place my Red Bull on the closest nightstand and sit down on the cushy bed. I stare out into the dim light of the hallway.

  Did I just hear what I thought I heard?

  “Maybe you need sleep more than you thought, Autumn,” I whisper, eyeing the Red Bull with suspicion.

  Shaking away the strangeness, I pull my phone out of my pocket and text Mom.

  I made it in one piece. Getting ready for bed. Talk tomorrow. Love you. <3

  She’s probably fast asleep by now. It’s well past 11:00 p.m. and the likelihood she’d still be up is next to nil. If there’s one thing Mom doesn’t mess with, it’s her sleep.

  Before I call Wade, I walk over to my backpack and pull out my charger. If past conversations have any bearing, there’s a good chance our call will go on all night—even if we’re just sleeping. So, it’s imperative to have it charging. I plug it into the outlet beside the bed and pull out the nightshirt I packed in my backpack. Tomorrow, I’ll grab the rest of my stuff from Blue. After what just happened in the hallway, there’s no way I’m wandering outside to my vehicle now.

  Clutching the shirt to my chest, my eyes flit around the room.

  Despite the strange well of anxiety cropping up, the room isn’t half bad. A little old-fashioned, maybe, but nothing some fresh paint or new decorations couldn’t cure. I mean, I’m not seven anymore.

  I walk over to the large oak desk on the right hand side and sit down in the plush chair. Clearly meant to be more for a study than a bedroom, it doesn’t have the kind of lumbar support a person would need if they were doing homework or something on a computer. But it sure is comfy.

  Running my fingertips along the polished wood surface of the desk, I take a deep breath and try to relax. This is not at all what I was expecting.

  Granted, I’m not entirely sure what I expected, so maybe that’s all this is.

  Somewhere in my gut, there’s a strange feeling about this room, and I just can’t shake it. I remember hating it here. Hating the room, hating being stuck here. But now that I look at it with fresh eyes, it is really a nice room. It’s got a lot of character, even if it’s got an old-school vibe.

  I get undressed and slide into the tank top I like to sleep in. When I pull my phone out again, upon closer inspection, there are three texts from Wade.

  Hey Dru~ watching you go was the worst. But trust me, it’s gonna be great. I hope things go better for you than you expect. Thinking about you. ~Angel

  I was thinking…isn’t this how things started in Twilight? Girl being shipped off to live with her dad? Maybe I should call you Bella. Too geeky? Come to think of it, probably not any more than Dru. Ha! ;-)

  So, you there yet? I hope everything’s okay. Call me when you’re in. Can’t wait to hear from you, beautiful. Miss you already. <3

  My heart both soars and constricts. He’s such a nut, but adorably so. And I totally miss him already.

  I walk around the room, flicking off all the lights except the one right next to the bed. Then I set the phone on the stand and pull up his name. It only rings once before Wade answers.

  “Hey there, gorgeous,” he beams, leaning back in his chair. His dark hair is disheveled, like I just pulled him out of bed. His exposed upper chest muscles flex as he pulls his legs into a cross-legged position.

  A small gasp escapes my lips before I can stop myself.

  “You okay?” Concern sweeps across his features as he leans in closer to the screen.

  “Yeah, oh yeah. Just fine,” I say, melting internally and grinning. It’s a cheesy oh my god he’s got great pecs kinda grin. But I can’t help it.

  “Excellent,” he nods. “So, how was the drive? Everything go okay with your dad?”

  “Yeah, the drive went fine, I guess. I mean, I had to crank some music and get my mind off of things. You know?”

  “I get it. It was really hard seeing you go,” he says, his eyebrows tipping up in the middle.

  “Bet it was harder leaving,” I say with a smirk. “On the upside, Dad’s been great. I can’t wait for you to see this place, too. It’s massive—way bigger than I remember.”

  “Did he add on to it or something?”

  “Yeah, I guess? Plus it’s an old manor home. They liked to build big back in the day,” I say. “But it feels like I just moved into Hogwarts.”

  “Oh, we’re busting out the nerdery now. I like it.” Wade grins, his eyes lighting with amusement.

  I narrow my eyes and stick out my tongue. Of course, I knew he’d love it, though.

  He chuckles. “I’m looking forward to seeing it, too. Wonder which house I’ll be sorted into.”

  “Oh, you’re definitely a Hufflepuff.” I chuckle.

  “Pft.” He laughs, resting back in his chair again with his arms behind his head.

  I sigh wistfully. “How’s your grandpa doing?” I ask, trying to drag my mind anywhere besides the gutter.

  “He’s doing okay. This afternoon, he even sat up and ate something. So, that was good,” Wade says, trying to let optimism light his features. But there’s a hint of sadness hidden in his eyes.

  “That’s good. Did he recognize you today?” I ask.

  “No, not really. He still thinks I’m my dad,” Wade says, shrugging.

  “Really? I’m sorry, Wade. That must be hard. Isn’t that a little weird for you?”

  “It was at first, but I’m kinda used to it now,” he says, keeping his expression neutral.

  My lips press into a thin line as I try to imagine taking care of someone who didn’t know who I was.

  “That’s gotta be a little hard, though, right? I mean, with your dad being—”

  Wade shrugs, dropping his hands to his lap. “I just think of it as a job and ignore the weird emotional stuff. Does that seem cold?” A quizzical expression blossoms across his features.

  “I don’t know. I guess not. Then again, it’s still hard to think of you as the personal care assistant…type?”

  “There’s a PCA type?”

  “Definitely,” I say sternly.

  “All right, you have me curious. What is a PCA type?” His eyes narrow and he tilts his head slightly.

  “Big burly dude with a nurse’s uniform?” I offer.

  “Nice,” he snorts. “Do I have to have a big wart on my chin and hair poking out, too?”

  A laugh bursts from my lips and I can’t help but shake my head. “So, I don’t think I ever asked you… Where did you work before taking on your grandpa, then? Hot Topic? Forever 21? Oooh, I know—it was one of those dorky board game shops that sell Dungeons and Dragons stuff and hoards of dice?” I say, flicking my tongue to the roof of my mouth.

  He bends in close to the screen, then, blinking slowly, he says, “The bookstore, sweet thing.”

  My eyes raise to the ceiling as I nod. “Oh, right. Bookstore. I for
get about those sometimes. Mistwood Point never had a good one. They all went the way of the dinosaur when ebooks came about.”

  “Hey now, Mistwood has the Alcove. Though, in saying that, I think they sell more used books and incense than anything hitting the market in the past ten years.”

  I nod with mock seriousness. “And don’t forget, they do aura readings every third Saturday.”

  He chuckles. “That, too.”

  Crossing my legs under the covers, I sit up a bit straighter. “Well, when you get a few free moments tomorrow, sneak me a call. Okay? I’m sure I’ll be dying for some company after a full day alone in this enormous house with my dad.”

  “I will be both ready and willing. You can count on it,” he says, his signature wink making its first appearance for the night.

  My cheeks flush. He’s so dang sexy without even trying.

  “What time do you start your day tomorrow?” I ask, clearing my throat.

  “Seven-thirty. Grandpa needs to take his meds and I’ll have to check his catheter.”

  “Fun times,” I say, flicking my eyes to the clock on the wall. “Wade, it’s almost midnight. You better get your ass to bed.”

  “Psh. It’s no big. As long as I get a few hours of sleep, I’ll be fine,” Wade says with a smirk.

  I shake my head. “Huh-uh. Absolutely not. I won’t be the reason you slept through your alarm and your grandpa missed his catheter change. Get to bed. We can talk more tomorrow.”

  “Really, it’s no big deal. I don’t mind,” he protests. “How about—how about you just go about your business and I’ll go lie down. We can just, I dunno, fall asleep together?”

  “That might be the sweetest, weirdest thing you’ve said to me,” I say, running my fingertips over my forehead.

  “Is that a yes?” he asks, his face brightening.

  “Fine, but you better go to sleep. No trying to chitchat your way outta this. Otherwise, I’m gonna tough love you by hanging up,” I say, narrowing my eyes and pointing a finger at the screen.

  “Ugh, fine,” he says. It’s almost a pout, but not really. Getting up from his chair, he lifts his laptop and brings it to the nightstand beside his bed. For a moment, he’s out of view as I hear some clothing drop to the floor.

  A shiver skitters through me as my mind goes into overactive-imagination mode. Placing both hands over my mouth, I tap the side of my cheek with my fingertips.

  The fabric on his bed pulls back and he jumps into bed like the Flash. I didn’t catch anything definitive, but I’m pretty sure he was naked.

  Oh my god.

  He props himself up onto his right arm and leans into the camera. “Night, Dru. I’ll be thinking about you. If I don’t get to see you in the morning, I hope you have a great day tomorrow.”

  “Thanks, Angel. You, too. Hope your grandpa has a good day tomorrow,” I say, blowing him a kiss. “Hope he remembers it’s you. Now, get some sleep.”

  He blows a kiss back, then leans deep into the pillow. Rolling onto his side, he faces the camera, grinning like a fool.

  I do the same, lying down so I can face the camera. I don’t know how I happened to get so lucky, but I really am.

  I sigh contently.

  “You are so beautiful, you know that?” Wade whispers.

  “Shhhh…no talking,” I say, narrowing my eyes. Despite myself, my heart flutters. “But thank you.”

  Silence floods the space for a moment.

  “One last thing, I promise,” he says, shifting up onto his elbow. “I’m looking forward to going to the Witching Stick orientation with you next week. It should be a lot of fun.”

  “I’m looking forward to it, too. And stop trying to sneak your way out of sleeping. I’m on to you, mister.”

  Somewhere in the darkness beyond the foot of my bed, a weird scratching noise pulls me from the screen. I peer to the other side of the room with wide eyes.

  “Everything okay?” Wade asks, worry painting his tone.

  “I—there was just a weird scratching noise,” I mutter, still trying to look for the source.

  “It’s an old house. It’s probably just a mouse or bat or something.”

  That makes total sense. Not that it makes me any happier.

  I shudder and make a face. “Yeah, you’re probably right. I just…”

  “What?”

  “It sounds completely dorky, but I’ve had a couple of weird experiences since I’ve been here. I guess I’m just being jumpy because it’s all new,” I say, returning my gaze to the screen.

  “Weird how?” he asks, quirking an eyebrow.

  “They’re nothing, really. Probably just my overactive imagination.”

  “Indulge me, would you, woman?” he says, propping up further and allowing the blanket to fall down to his waist.

  I sigh internally. A couple more minutes of talking couldn’t hurt…

  “Well, when I was upstairs, there was a strange cold pocket that sent a chill straight through me. Dad was there when it happened, and he got really weird. Like, changed the subject abruptly and everything. Then…”

  I think back to the voice and I shake my head. It’s ridiculous. I’d sound completely mental.

  “Then…?” he prompts.

  “It’s nothing really. You’ll think I’m nuts.”

  “Woman, I live with a man who thinks I’m my father. I seriously doubt that,” he says, lowering his eyebrows.

  “It sounds completely crazy out loud, but before I came in here to call you, I swear I heard a woman’s voice,” I say, scrunching my face.

  “Like, your dad has a woman in the house and hasn’t told you?” Wade asks, his eyes wide.

  I shake my head and narrow my eyes. “Nah. I don’t think so.”

  “Are you sure?”

  “Pretty sure,” I nod. “She said, ‘Welcome home, Autumn.’”

  Wade’s lips part, then close again. His eyes dart downward as he thinks. “So, what? You think there’s a ghost?”

  “Don’t be ridiculous. Ghosts aren’t real. But I am a little concerned about my mental health. There’s a lot I haven’t dealt with from my past and I wonder if maybe I’m seeing or hearing strange things that aren’t really there.”

  “I don’t think so. I know you’re very science-minded, but you also live in a supernatural world. You’re going to a supernatural school for godsake. Is it really that unheard of to think you might have ghosts?”

  “Honestly, I don’t know. Growing up, my mom forbid me to look into the supernatural. She always pointed me to scientific theory and the explainable. It’s part of the reason I wanted to be a forensic scientist. I wanted to be able to understand death, not make excuses for it. Besides, have you ever seen a ghost?” I ask, narrowing my eyes.

  Wade shakes his head. “Well, no, but I believe they exist.”

  “How can you be so sure?” I snicker.

  Wade’s eyes go distant and a thoughtful expression paints itself across his face. “Let’s just say, in my line of work, it’s almost part of the job.”

  “That makes no sense,” I say.

  “It would if you’ve seen what I have,” Wade says, laughing softly.

  “What? What’s so funny?” I say incredulously.

  With a mischievous twinkle in his eye, he says, “Maybe you really did move to Hogwarts.”

  Chapter 9

  The Witching Stick

  Extremely loud calls of crows echo from somewhere nearby. My eyelids flutter open and take in the morning light as it streams into my bedroom through the large window. Rolling over to my side, I lazily stare into the blue expanse beyond the glass. Red, gold, and green leaves flutter at the edges of the panes, and a smile slides across my lips. I’ve had a week to get used to this view and it still hasn’t gotten old. Instead, I find each day I’m more and more fascinated by the beauty of this place.

  My heart flutters in my chest. Wade will be here soon so we can go to the Witching Stick orientation together.

  Despit
e the craziness from the first night, everything since has been completely and utterly ordinary. If anything, I feel foolish for even allowing myself to get freaked out or think there was something more going on. Instead, I probably just needed a good night’s rest and to get over my anxiety over the move.

  Reaching for my phone, I tap to open the text message left by Wade an hour ago.

  Have I told you, you're beautiful when you sleep? I’m leaving now. See you soon. xxx

  Blushing slightly, my right hand floats to my cheek. I type out a reply quickly.

  Hey, Angel. Thinking of you. <3 Drive safe, okay? Can’t wait to see you! PS—> You're cute when you sleep, too. ;)

  I hit send, shut off the screen, and clutch the phone to my chest as I fall back into my pillow. A contented sigh escapes my lips and I find myself grinning like a lunatic.

  The crows caw again, drawing my attention back to the window.

  Throwing my feet over the side of the bed, I cast my blankets aside and stand up. I walk over to the window and take a seat on the large cushions of the window seat. The wind blows against the branches in the courtyard, and for a while, I’m mesmerized by their dance.

  In the distance, fog rolls off the pond, reaching its tendrils toward the sky. I find myself smiling broadly but my eyes land on a dark figure standing well beyond the confines of the courtyard. Bending toward the window, I narrow my gaze. As if sensing me, the figure turns toward the house. His face is shrouded by the fog, but it’s enough to make my blood run cold.

  Without thought, I head over to my dresser and pull on a pair of jeans and a sweatshirt. I throw on a pair of hiking boots, slide my phone in my pocket, and run down the hall. The house is eerily quiet, so I make my way through the kitchen to the closest door I know that leads to the courtyard.

  Flinging it open, I race out into the crisp autumn air. The crows continue to call, as if tattling on the intruder and hoping he gets caught.

 

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