The two of them disappear the way they came, and I’m left alone again with my dad and Abigail. The air is heavy with anticipation as I realize there’s still more that needs to be done.
“Why is he still here?” I ask, turning to Abigail. “Shouldn’t he have been taken?”
Abigail’s thoughtful smile eases my mind. Then, she closes her eyes and slowly raises her arms and her fingertips splay open, almost as if she’s about to conduct a symphony. And maybe in a way, she does. With the simple gesture, the embers and ashes rise off the stone floor, floating through the air like glimmering red smoke.
I step away, following their journey into one of the tunnels I haven’t been in before. The ashes float through the darkness of the catacombs, illuminating one of the empty stone platforms as they come to a rest. When every last granule is in place, my father’s name transcribes itself into the stone above him.
“Hail all gods, goddesses, and protectors of the Temple of the Soul—each who weigh heaven and earth in delicate balance, and in honor of the Fates’ grand plan. Oh mighty Death, taker of life, I deliver unto you the body of my father before me. Ashes to ashes, dust to dust, bless him please, so he may slumber in eternal rest,” I whisper, remembering the sacred words of interment.
A powerful energy rocks the space, sealing off the tomb; protecting him now…and forever.
I stare at the tomb for a moment, holding my breath, scared to go back into the room and face what I know lies ahead of me. Struggling to hold back tears, I close my eyes, pressing my lips tight and swallowing hard.
Suddenly, Dad is by my side. He rests his cold hand on my shoulder and waits. When I finally turn to face him, his eyes are alight with childish wonder.
“Do you hear that music?” he asks. “It’s absolutely…”
“Beautiful?” I say, finishing his thought.
Dad shakes his head slowly. “Haunting.” For a moment, his eyes go distant. “But also beautiful, yes.”
“Those are the songs of rebirth,” Abigail whispers, now beside us.
I shake my head, tears brimming in my eyes. “No, Dad. I’m sorry. I think it’s playing just for you.”
“I wish you could hear it,” he says, still engrossed in the melody.
The tears I’d been trying to hold back slide down my cheeks and I hold back a sob. “I’ll hear it one day.”
Dad’s gaze pulls back into focus, taking me in again. For the longest time, he stares at me with a sense of wonder and confusion shimmering through his expressions. “Why are you crying?” he finally asks.
I wipe at my face, wishing an astral form couldn’t feel these emotions that practically tear me apart. “I’m going to miss you so much. I wish…” My words are choked out by the sob that wracks through my body. “I wish we had more time.”
Realization forms across my dad’s face and he walks up to me.
“I’ll always be with you, sweet girl,” Dad says, pulling me in close. “I love you, Autumn. Never forget that.”
“I love you, Dad. I really do,” I say, clutching at the back of his shirt and holding him close.
Suddenly, an inky black cloud billows out into the circular space of the inner sanctum a few yards away. Instantly, I know what this means and I’ve never been more relieved—and more terrified.
Will he take my dad’s soul? Or will he be like the Moirai and hold a grudge against me and my family?
Chapter 31
Chin Up
The Angel of Death steps out of his dark portal, entering the catacombs with a couple of natural strides.
Dad steps forward as if drawn to him like a magnet.
The Angel of Death’s silver eyes glimmer in the low light of the catacombs, and he reaches out for my dad as if he’s a long-lost friend.
“Lyle Blackwood,” he says. “I had wondered if we’d ever cross paths again.”
My dad reaches out, wrapping his arms around Wade’s dad. After a short embrace, he slaps Wade’s dad on the back and steps away. “Good to see you, old friend.”
At first, my eyebrows tug inward, but understanding isn’t far behind. They knew each other thirty years ago, the last time revenants were raised in this town. It was their combined efforts that eliminated their threat the last time. It makes sense that a friendship of some sort may have grown between them.
“Indeed,” he says, nodding his head in agreement. Then the Angel of Death chuckles. “I had hoped you’d look more like a shriveled old man by the time I saw you again, though.”
Dad glances down, opening his hands out wide. “Sorry to disappoint.”
“Well, at least you have more gray than I do.”
This time, it’s Dad’s turn to laugh. “Yes, well, it doesn’t matter much now, I’d wager.”
“Very true,” the Angel says. His eyes flit briefly to me, then return to my dad. “Are you ready? Or do you need a moment?”
Looking over his shoulder at me and Abigail, Dad steps away from the Angel of Death.
“I have to go now, sweetheart,” Dad whispers, pulling me into a final embrace.
“I know,” I whisper into his shirt. Tears again flood my eyes, no matter how hard I try to hold them back.
Abigail keeps her distance, her hands folded gently in front of her.
After a moment, Dad places his hands on my shoulders, pulling me back.
“You’re strong, Autumn. I know you’ll get through what comes next. Keep a watchful eye. The Moirai are coming, and this is a game we can’t win. At least not with the rules as they are. You’ll need to be resourceful,” he says, turning his gaze to Abigail. “Thank goodness you have some key players on your side.”
“She is quite special,” Abigail says. “I will do what I can to protect her.”
Dad nods his head, shooting her a lopsided smile. “Thank you.”
Abigail tips her head.
“It’s time, Lyle,” Wade’s dad says, taking a step toward him. “Walk with me.”
Without another word, Dad places a crooked index finger under my chin, lifting it up. Smiling softly, he turns back to the Angel of Death.
“I’m ready,” he says.
The two of them walk away from the central chamber, making their way down the tunnel where my father’s body now rests. It’s almost as if they’re just taking a walk in a park, or a garden. And maybe to Dad, they are. Their conversation is light and friendly as they disappear into the darkness.
I swipe at my cheeks, batting at the tears still falling.
Abigail walks over to me, wrapping her arms around me. “I am so sorry, my dear one.”
The best I can manage is a guttural sob as I return her embrace.
“I do so wish I could say this was the end of our family’s torment. But you must return to your body. You must be prepared for all that lies ahead. The path will not be easy and I make no promises of your success,” she whispers.
“Gee, thanks for the vote of confidence,” I mutter, stepping back.
“However,” she says, holding my gaze. “I am certain that if anyone can break this curse, it will be you.”
“How can you be so sure?” I ask, scrunching my face.
“Because you are more powerful than you know.”
My eyes flutter open and I’m consumed by darkness. I’m no longer inside the torch-lit catacombs; the sun has set long ago, and the stars twinkle in an inky canopy above me. High in the sky, the full moon’s silver light floods the grounds, illuminating the yard.
“Autumn,” a soothing voice says from somewhere over my shoulder, “how are you feeling?”
My head lolls to the side as I look into the concerned gaze of Diana.
“I’m…okay. I think,” I say, doing a quick inventory. Everything feels like it’s in place and coming back down from the crazy ordeal I’ve just witnessed.
While nothing will ever be the same again, I also know this time around, things could have been a lot worse. But there’s a certain amount of peace knowing that my dad’s no longer s
uffering. He’s free.
“You did it,” Diana smiles, patting my arm. Like a momma bear, there’s a sense of pride filtering through her features despite looking like she could be a classmate—not a mentor.
I smile softly and clear my throat. “Yeah, I guess we did.”
Glancing to my left, I see Dominic seated in the other Adirondack chair with his hands behind his head. To his left, Colton and Blake stand by with wide, expectant eyes.
“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 chest. “What is this?”
His father’s jaw tightens as he stands firm, his gaze now ice cold. “It’s the mark of expulsion.”
To Be Continued in the Final Installment of the
Windhaven Witches: Cursed Legacy, Book 4!
Cursed Legacy
Chapter 1
A Lot Like Christmas
If you had told me two years ago that I was a necromancer with postmortem-medium tendencies, I would have laughed in your face. First of all, because I didn’t know what any of that meant. Second of all, because I didn’t even believe in ghosts. Besides, I was just an ordinary girl, saving money for college so I could become a forensic scientist.
But I would have been wrong.
Now, if you had added that I was a necromancer who would ultimately fall in love with an Angel of Death-in-waiting, but we’d both be cursed by the Moirai, better known as frickin’ Fates, for that love, I would have told you it was time for your meds because you’d clearly gone off the deep end. I’m not that girl.
Only… I am.
I’m all of those things.
It’s been two months since I found out my dad was dead, even though I’d been interacting with him for over a year and didn’t even know he was a ghost. Yeah, color me clueless. I guess the Windhaven Academy can scratch intuitive off the list of powers I have. If this curse catches up with us, I’ll never finish my schooling… Never be
come what I was meant to be.
Then again, maybe that’s all life is. The perpetual evolution of taking what life throws at you so you can become more of who you already are.
Either way, if the Moirai catch up to us, no amount of schooling will keep us safe. It will be game over. Should they get what they want, there will be one less Blackwood and Hoffman in the world. Our lines will die out with us and the Moirai can walk away, wiping their hands clean of our unfortunate existence
We may as well spend the last few moments of our lives trying to make things right.
And at the very least, neither of us will die alone.
I hope.
Ambient morning light streams into my bedroom window and I can no longer settle into sleep. Instead, I prop myself up on my right arm, watching Wade as he sleeps.
His dark eyelashes dance across his cheeks as he dreams, and I find myself smiling as I wonder what fills his dreams. I hope they’re more peaceful than my own.
Sleep hasn’t been an easy endeavor for the longest time. I’m almost afraid to linger too long there. Besides, if my days are numbered, I want to be awake for as much of them as humanly possible.
With my left hand, I trace the outside circle of the strange mark on Wade’s chest signifying his expulsion from his family’s angel lineage. For weeks it was an angry lesion and it was a painful reminder of how much being together has cost him. It was painful just to look at before, but as the skin has healed, the scar is almost beautiful, in its own way. The outer circle is delicate, with an air that’s reminiscent of a ring of fire. Inside, three triangles all intersect.
Wade’s head lolls to the side, his eyelashes fluttering from my touch.
“Mmmm,” he sighs happily, a smile sliding across his features. “I could wake up to your touch every day.”
“Are you sure it doesn’t hurt?” I ask, meeting his gaze.
His silver eyes take in my every move, even through partially closed lids. He shakes his head, resting his hand on top of mine. “No, not anymore.”
I frown, wishing there had been some way to spare him from the pain of any of it. Had I been able to keep my distance and just stayed away from him…maybe he’d be better off right now. Maybe none of this would have happened.
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