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

by Carissa Andrews

  “No, no. I get it. I didn’t want any of this for you. Right? So how could I possibly understand what’s going on now?” she spits, her eyes flashing. “Is that it?”

  “Of course not,” I say, shaking my head. “I didn’t want to worry you.”

  She actually snorts out loud. “That is the most ridiculous thing I’ve heard you say.”

  “Mom, I don’t want to fight. Please,” I say, dropping my shoulders in defeat. “This is hard enough without—”

  “Ladies,” Wade interjects, holding his arms out between us. “You need each other now, more than ever. Andrea, Autumn might not have been the one to say it, but I know she wanted to. She wants you in her life—her real life. Not just the superficial stuff. She wants to be able to lean on you with this shit. We have some heavy things coming at us and she just needs…”

  “Her mom,” she whispers. Blinking back tears, Mom sighs and walks over to me. “I’m sorry, sweetie. It’s just… I wanted to keep you safe and the only way to do that was to keep you from all of this. I know its allure, trust me. But I can’t help it. I still wish you’d never opened that damn packet.”

  “Mom, the Windhaven Academy had nothing to do with this. I am who I am. It’s in my blood. Acceptance to the school only shone the light on it,” I say, shrugging. “Ignoring it wouldn’t have kept the Moirai from me. It would have only kept me in the dark.”

  “Wouldn’t that have been better?” she asks, grabbing hold of my hands. Her eyes plead with me, begging me to understand.

  Shaking my head, I drop my gaze to our hands. “No, it wouldn’t.”

  “How can you say that?” she asks as tears slide down her cheeks. “This life—it killed your father and so many others. Now, it’s trying to claim you, too.”

  “And dying in ignorance would be a waste,” I whisper, fighting back my own tears. “I need to stop them, Mom.”

  “You can’t stop them. Your dad tried,” she sobs, clutching my hands tighter. “He spent his life trying to protect you.”

  “I know that now,” I say, shooting my blurry gaze to Wade.

  His chin tips upward as he tilts his head to the side and rubs my shoulder.

  “But now it’s my time to protect myself,” I say, dropping her hands and wrapping my arms around her neck. “I just need your love and support.”

  “Sweet girl, you’ve always had that,” she says, brushing her hand over the back of my head.

  Closing my eyes, I lean into her body, wishing I could stay in that protective cocoon forever. But deep down, I know the world isn’t so kind. Bad things are still coming for us.

  The question is, how soon?

  Chapter 3

  Phone Calls & Exploration

  Being around Mom turned out to be just the thing I needed to feel more centered, but unfortunately, the feeling didn’t last long. By the time we were on the way back to Windhaven, all the anxiety that was pressing on us before we left welcomed me back with open arms.

  In fact, the pressure was almost worse. Before we left, things were at least calm. There were no signs, no strings…

  But now?

  Our education is on hiatus and we’ve officially been put on notice by the Moirai.

  Terrific.

  “I think we should check out more of the books in your dad’s study. I was researching the other day and it turns out, he really had quite the collection of obscure texts. Maybe there’s something useful in there on helping us stop the Moirai?” Wade says, pulling out a large knife to dice the onion in front of him.

  I close the refrigerator and toss him the tomato in my hand. He catches it with ease and smirks.

  “I guess I’m not overly surprised after reading my dad’s journal. He was working hard to stop the Moirai. If anyone has the intel we need, it would have been him.” I pause, my forehead creasing as I think about all the time lost. There is so much I should have asked him.

  “Hey, hey…” he says, setting down the knife and walking over to me. “I know that look.”

  Before I think of anything else to say, his arms wrap around me. I set my cheek against his shoulder, leaning into him. Sandalwood and soap are the smells of home now, and I inhale them deeply, letting them wash away my worry.

  Suddenly, the phone on the kitchen counter rings, echoing through the room like an alarm. We jump apart, but I shake off the surprise to walk over to the cordless.

  I don’t even look at the caller ID.

  “Hello?”

  “Is Mrs. Blackwood available?” a woman on the other end asks.

  “This is Ms. Blackwood,” I say, not feeling the need to correct her any more than that.

  There’s silence for a moment, then shuffling of some papers. I scrunch my face and shoot Wade a sideways glance.

  “Who is it?” he mouths.

  I shrug in response.

  Finally, the woman clears her throat. “Ah, yes. Ms. Blackwood. Is your mother there?”

  “No, my mother doesn’t live here. What can I do for you?” I say, rolling my eyes.

  “This is the law office of Harper, Lance, and Scott. We’re finalizing the last will and testament of Lyle James Blackwood and wish to schedule a reading of the will next Monday,” the woman on the other end declares.

  “Oh, I see,” I say, clearing my throat.

  “We would like to come out to Blackwood Manor, if this works for your family. Should I call Mrs. Blackwood to make arrangements?” she asks.

  I clutch the phone to my ear but swap it to the other side. “That won’t be necessary. I’m the one who lives at Blackwood Manor.”

  “It’s imperative Mrs. Andrea Blackwood be in attendance,” the woman says.

  “Okay, I’ll see what I can do,” I say, narrowing my gaze as I try to figure out why she’s so adamant about my mother.

  There’s another pause. “Excellent. What time shall we put you down?”

  “How about one p.m.? My mom lives in Mistwood Point, so it will take her some time to get here,” I say.

  “That’ll do. We have you down. Someone from our firm will be out there at one p.m. on Monday, Ms. Blackwood. Have a nice evening.”

  The woman hangs up before I can say anything. I pull the phone back, staring at the keys.

  “Who was that?” Wade asks, standing beside the diced vegetables with a look of concern.

  I screw up my face, setting the phone back on the cradle. “It was the law firm handling my dad’s estate. They want to do the reading of the will next Monday.”

  Wade takes a step toward me. “That’s good, isn’t it? I mean, it’s taken a while to prove his death and get things in order.”

  “Yeah, it’s good, I guess,” I nod. “At least, it will be when it’s over.”

  Wade’s eyebrows knit together. “What’s wrong then?”

  I pause, thinking back to the conversation. “She was really pushy about my mom. She wants me to make sure she’s here.”

  “Why is that so weird?”

  “Because they’ve been divorced for more than a decade?” I say, leaning against the counter. “I mean, is it normal to want your ex at the reading of your will?”

  “Well, he did share something pretty important with her,” Wade says, raising his eyebrows knowingly and pointing at me.

  “Yeah, I know. I guess I didn’t expect to have to bring her here. She’s not going to like it,” I say.

  “Do you think he left something in the will for her?” Wade asks.

  I shrug. “Probably? Why else would she be so pushy about it?”

  Wade chuckles, taking the last few steps to me. He kisses my cheek and says, “Good point. We can call your mom in a little bit and let her know. It’ll all be fine.”

  Exhaling slowly, I tip my head. I seriously hope he’s right.

  “I have to admit it’s kinda weird, though. It’s like the roles are totally reversed from when my grandpa died,” Wade says, returning to his chopping.

  “Yeah, it does have a weird déjà vu vibe, doesn�
��t it?” I say, nodding and walking over to the pantry to grab spaghetti noodles. “Let’s hope things don’t go as sideways as they did after your grandpa died.”

  “On the upside, his bones are already interred in the catacombs. I think it’s pretty safe to say you won’t find him in the middle of the yard as a revenant,” Wade says, stirring in the tomato sauce.

  “Good point,” I nod, handing him the package of noodles.

  After dinner, we sit in relative silence. My brain keeps dragging me back to the will, the reading, and telling my mom that she needs to be here. I know if I don’t get that call over with, my stomach will be in knots all night.

  Wade studies me, his light eyes taking in my every move.

  “What’s got you frowning?” he finally asks.

  Pressing my lips into a thin line, I shake my head. “I need to call my mom. I just don’t know what to say.”

  “How about, ‘Hi, mom. I got a call from the lawyer and they want to do the will reading next Monday. Any chance you can be there?’” he says nonchalantly.

  “Easy for you to say. You didn’t grow up with her,” I mutter.

  “Come on. She’s not that bad,” Wade says, chuckling. He stands up, reaching for my plate and placing it on top of his own. “Call her. I’ll get the dishes done and then we can hang out. Trust me, it’s not going to be as bad as you’re making it out in your head.”

  “But I really should help,” I say, moving to stand up.

  Wade sets the dishes down and puts his hands on my shoulders before I can get up. “Stop trying to postpone the inevitable. I’m not that bad at doing dishes. Yeesh.”

  I fall back into my seat, and my gaze travels to my cell phone resting face down in the middle of the table.

  “But…” I begin.

  Wade leaves the room and yells, “Call her.”

  Blowing out a puff of air, I reach for the phone and flip it over. Staring at the screen, it takes me another couple of minutes to build up the courage to call her over this. Any other time, for any other thing, and it would be no problem. But this is a double whammy — dealing with death and under supernatural circumstances.

  I press Mom’s number before I have time to talk myself out of the call. The phone rings and as it cycles into the third ring, relief washes over me.

  It’s abruptly cut off as the ringing stops and Mom says, “Hey, sweetie. What a nice surprise. Everything okay?”

  My eyebrows scrunch in and I pinch the bridge of my nose. “Hi, Mom. Uhm, yeah, everything’s great.”

  “Uh-oh. I know that tone. What’s up, young lady?” Mom says, obviously using her own superpowers, also known as motherhood, on me.

  I clear my throat. “Well, I uh…” Taking a deep breath, I try to remember what Wade’s version sounded like. “I got a call from the attorney handling Dad’s stuff. He, uh… evidently, he needs you to be here for the will reading on Monday.”

  There’s a long pause on the other end and I pull the phone back to see if we got disconnected. The timer is still continuing to log the duration of the call.

  “Mom?”

  “I can’t make it,” she finally says.

  “Why?”

  “I don’t want anything to do with that place. I know—” She sighs heavily. “I know it’s your home now, and I suppose it should be now that… But I don’t have the fondest of memories there.”

  “But Mom—”

  “Enough, Autumn. I’m sure that if the attorneys want to get ahold of me, they’ll find a way. Now, what about Christmas? Do you and Wade have plans yet?” she asks, adeptly changing the subject.

  “No, not yet,” I say, getting up and staring out into the darkness beyond the dining room window. The moonlight sparkles across the snow, lighting the landscape in its silvery glow.

  “Well, how about the two of you come here for a few nights. We can spend Christmas Eve and day together.”

  “Okay, I’ll see what Wade thinks,” I say, nodding absently.

  “Good. Let me know what you two decide, so I can put a plan together,” Mom says. “Love you, Autumn.”

  “Love you, too, Mom.”

  “Talk to you later, sweetie.”

  “Okay, bye, Mom.” I end the call, dropping the phone to my side.

  I hope she’s right about the lawyers because I’m pretty sure they don’t want to just see me. Shaking my head, I turn and walk into the kitchen.

  Wade is finishing up the dishes as I walk into the room, and he turns to face me. “See, nothing to it. On both accounts,” he beams. “So, what did she say?”

  I shake my head. “She said…no.”

  “No?” He quirks an eyebrow at me and scoffs as if I’m lying.

  “Dead serious. She even changed the subject and asked about Christmas,” I say, setting my phone on the counter.

  “Gee, you weren’t kidding. She really doesn’t want to deal with this place.”

  I nod. “Ya think?”

  “Okay, well, what’s plan B? Are you going to call the lawyer back?” Wade asks, wiping his hands on a dish towel.

  “No, I’ll just let it ride. If they turn up here and my mom’s not, then I’ll proclaim innocence. She seems to think that if they want to get ahold of her, they’ll find a way.”

  “There’s probably truth in that,” Wade says, tipping his chin.

  “Well, either way…at least the call is over. What do you want to do now?” I ask, biting the inside of my cheek.

  “Feel like doing some exploring? We still have a ton of rooms in the house we haven’t checked out yet,” he suggests, setting the cloth on the counter.

  I shrug. “Sure. I don’t think I could sit still, anyway. Too much nervous energy.”

  “Perfect,” he says, jutting out his arm. “Our exploration awaits.”

  Laughing, I loop my arm through his and follow his lead.

  The past few months have been a blur of epic proportions. I barely remember my own name, let alone all of the events that have happened since I found out my dad was dead and haunting the manor as a Lemure.

  I vaguely remember asking Wade to move in with me so I didn’t have to be alone. To this day, I still don’t know if he’s technically all in, or if his apartment is still his.

  All I know is, he’s here and it’s where I want him to be. We’re safer together.

  “What about that corridor?” Wade asks, pointing to the wing that goes past the kitchen and heads toward the pond.

  “Sure,” I say, shrugging. In all honesty, it makes no difference to me. They’re almost all the same, anyway. Strange bedroom-like rooms with old furniture from times gone by. Most of it smells like mothballs and dust.

  The exceptions, of course, are the rooms like the art room upstairs I discovered last year or the study.

  “What is it you hope to find?” I ask as we start walking down the dim corridor. The old electric sconces are lit, but the wattage on the bulbs is so low you practically need a flashlight to walk down them anyway.

  Wade shrugs. “Nothing, really. It just gives us something to do other than sit in the bedroom or on the couch.”

  “True,” I say, nodding.

  The house is beautiful, and seeing some of the other rooms has opened my perceptions to its true size. It’s almost like a map that’s colored itself in further, inviting you into places you never knew existed.

  The first few rooms are pretty standard. Dark, gothic wallpaper with gold embellishments. Plenty of furniture draped with white sheets.

  “Your family sure did like having lots of rooms. Do you think they were ever all in use?” Wade asks as we close the fifth door behind us.

  I shrug. “I’m not sure. I never really…”

  Wade squeezes my hand. He already knows why.

  “Well, I think it’s pretty amazing. And to think… all of this is going to be yours. No worrying about housing or money, really. It must be a relief,” he whispers.

  I blink back my surprise and stop walking. “You know, I never ev
en thought about that.”

  “Really?” he says, raising an eyebrow.

  “Yeah. I guess I’ve been so consumed by everything that I haven’t given much thought to the house or whatever…”

  “Not even when the lawyer called?” he chuckles. “Wow, trauma brain really has hit you hard.”

  “I guess it has.”

  “This whole house, the history that comes with it. Plus, you have your own family ghost…” he says, nudging me with his shoulder. “I wish I had something left of my family. Something…enduring.”

  I turn to him, my eyebrows tipping up in the middle. “Oh, Wade. I’m sorry.”

  He brushes his hand in the air. “Hey, no… It’s no big. It’s the way it’s been my whole life.”

  “No, it’s not. You always had one thing to carry with you,” I say, reaching out and touching the spot on his chest where the mark now resides.

  He presses his palm to my hand, pulling me in close. “Yeah, well. Now I start a new family tradition. I can be the one who leaves a new legacy for them.”

  A smile spreads across my lips, but it quickly dies back. “If we live long enough to start new legacies. If the Fates…”

  Wade presses a fingertip to my lips, cutting off my words. He shakes his head. “Thou shall not speak of them in this holy place,” he says, mimicking Abigail’s accent.

  “Yeah, well, speak or not…they’ll find their way in. We’re not clear of them. Especially after the mall,” I say, reaching out to turn the handle of another door midway down the hall.

  “I know. But until we have a concrete plan, we can’t let that hang over our heads. We’ll kill ourselves with worry,” he says.

  As I fling the door back, I pull up short at the surprisingly sparse setting. The decor on the walls is mostly the same—wallpaper and gold embellishments. But it’s the single white cloth draped over a piece of furniture that pulls me up short.

  “What do you think it is?” Wade asks, eyeing me mischievously.

  “I have no idea,” I mutter, trying to make sense out of the shape.

  “Then let’s take guesses. Hmmm…” he says, scratching at his chin. “I think it’s an old workout room—that’s why there’s nothing else in here.”