“What took you?” Abigail asks, eyeing Dominic with disdain and suspicion.
He raises his hands in the air, but stays on his ass. “Hey, I was just doing what had to be done,” he protests.
Abigail’s forehead creases and she turns her hard stare to me.
“As much as I hate to admit it, I think Dominic’s right,” I say, inhaling deeply.
Dominic’s eyebrows shoot up and he points to me. “See?”
Abigail doesn’t look overly amused as she presses her lips tight. However, I’m acutely aware that something has shifted. I’m even surprised she hasn’t.
“Wait a minute. You can see her?” I say, turning my astonished stare on him.
He glances between me and Abigail, then nods. “Yeah, I guess I can. Before, my strongest ability was clairaudience. Looks like I have a few new tricks up my sleeve.”
“Then it looks like you got what you were looking for,” I say.
“Let’s hope.” He nods.
Abigail scrunches her face as if the idea is distasteful. “What kept you?” she repeats.
I take another deep breath, letting the memories settle. “Dominic felt I needed to join him. That there were things I needed to deal with… Abigail, what do you know about sin-eaters?” I ask, shooting a sideways glance at Dominic.
Her expression is full of confusion as she considers my words. Clasping her hands in front of her body, she paces for a few seconds before she finally says, “Rumors only. I am not even certain they exist.”
“Oh, they do. And you’re looking at one,” Dominic says, then pointing my direction.
“Is this true?” Abigail says in a hushed whisper.
I shrug. “I don’t know. That’s what Dominic thinks.”
“But you are not so certain?” she says, stopping her back-and-forth motion.
“I don’t know anything right now. I have some questions of my own. Things are far less clear than they should be,” I say, glancing quickly at Dom.
“Didn’t she show you what you needed to know about it?” Dominic asks, clearly concerned.
As much as I trust both Dominic and Abigail, it doesn’t feel right to talk about my time with the Angel of Death just yet. And truthfully, there was nothing about the whole sin-eating thing said at all.
Dominic must sense my apprehension, because he narrows his gaze.
“No, she didn’t,” I say. It’s not a lie, but it’s certainly not the whole truth, either. Turning back to Abigail, I say, “What can you tell me about sin-eaters?”
Abigail’s eyes go distant for a few seconds, but something in her demeanor changes. It’s almost hopeful. “Sin-eaters are said to do just that, consume the sins of another.”
I never was one for religious context, and I feel myself already recoiling from the idea of what the subtext suggests. “What does that mean?”
Abigail shakes her head solemnly.
“What?” I say, spitting out the word more forcefully than I intended.
She looks to Dominic, as if somehow he might be able to help her put into words whatever a sin-eater actually is. Despite his normal bravado, he remains relatively stoic as his gaze drops casually to the sandy floor. Rather than participate in what is evidently a family discussion, he backs up slowly, resting his shoulders along the stone wall.
I roll my eyes at his helpfulness.
“I don’t know the exact methodology,” Abigail says, her voice grave. “But from what I have gathered, it would mean you take on the sins of another. They become your own.”
“Well, so what? That doesn’t sound so bad,” I say.
Abigail’s eyebrows tug in and she nods. “Perhaps.”
“There’s a downside. That’s what Abigail’s trying to say,” Dominic offers.
“Of course there is,” I say, exhaling loudly.
“Everything is about balance. Good and evil. Light and dark. Should you take on the sins of another, it would be a mark against your soul. It becomes a part of you as if you did the sinning yourself,” Abigail begins. “And as you can see, some sins have consequences. Painful, long-lasting consequences, even.”
“Hmmm,” I mutter.
“This is not the sort of gift you would wish to take lightly,” Abigail says. “Should this be true, I implore you to deliberate long and hard on how to best perform these duties.”
I step away from her, trying to sort out the information I’ve been given.
If I were to embrace this idea—being a sin-eater—does this mean I can clear away the past transgressions of the family? Is this the curse-breaker we’ve been searching for? Could I clear away the sins of Abigail and Warren? And if so, does that mean she would finally be free to cross over?
But more than that, would it free the rest of us? What about Wade? Myself… The baby?
And if the answer is yes, then where do I sign up?
“Did you know about this?” I ask, turning to face Abigail again. “That I could become a sin-eater?”
Surprise flits through her face and she takes a step back. “I held some suspicions, but I could not be certain.”
“Why?” I say, holding my breath as I wait for her answer.
“Autumn, you have always been powerful. Very, very powerful. As a child, you were but one with forces our family has never been able to command before. You could see and speak to me. Something not many can do.” She raises an eyebrow at Dominic, who grins in return and crosses his arms over his chest. “It wasn’t until I realized your mother was hiding aspects of who she was…” her voice peters out and she looks at me from under her eyebrows.
“You mean the fact that she has powers, too?” I say.
For once, it’s nice to know something when others are tiptoeing around it.
Her face brightens. “Yes. Precisely.”
“Wait. Your mom has powers?” Dominic says, surprise etched into the lines of his face as he drops his arms and stands up straight.
I nod.
“Huh, that explains a lot,” he mutters under his breath.
“At first I believed your mother to be of ordinary nature. Yet, there were times when I could swear she sensed me. It was, of course, after the accident that I learned of her origin,” Abigail whispers, dropping her chin to her chest. She eyes her fingertips for a moment as if they’re far more interesting than anything she’s saying.
“When I first moved back, do you remember the first thing you told me?” I ask her.
The place between her eyebrows creases as she thinks.
Rather than wait for her answer, I continue, “You told me I had to break the curse. That I’m the only one who can release you from this binding.” I pause, watching her reaction.
Her lips press tightly, but she nods.
“At the time, I didn’t want to hear any of it. It was all still so new. You know?” I say, remembering back to that day. “It was a lot to take in.“
“I can imagine,” she says.
“Did you mean it? That you thought I could break the curse?”
She clasps her hands behind her back and straightens her shoulders. “I have grown very fond of you, child.”
“Is that a yes or a no?” I spit, suddenly frustrated by her cryptic manner.
A surprisingly pained expression takes over her features and she sighs. “I had hoped…I knew you were different and you are the remaining Blackwood. So, if anyone was to break the curse, it would be you. Otherwise, the Moirai win. Our family dies out with you and I’m trapped in this limbo forever.”
“Not exactly,” I say, swallowing hard.
Abigail’s expression changes to confusion, and I smile softly. It really is nice to be the one in the know. “I’m pregnant, Abigail.”
“No—” she breathes, anguish clear in her eyes.
“Yes,” I say, suddenly alarmed by her fervor.
Dominic nods. “It’s true. I’ve sensed it myself.”
“Should the Moirai learn of this, they will want to act quickly,” she says, sudde
nly standing directly in front of me. “This is far more dangerous than I feared.”
“What are you talking about?”
“Think about it, child. If you are to stop the curse, you must do so before the Moirai catch on to this turn of events. They will be called in soon to set the course for this child. His or her string will be woven and…” Her voice trails off as she walks away from me. “You must put an end to this curse as quickly as possible. Through which means, I am not certain. But should you decide to ascend to a sin-eater, you cannot perform these rites when there is a child growing inside of you.”
I shake my head, not following her logic. “Why not?”
“You could inadvertently beset the child with the burden of those sins. No innocent life should ever come into this world afflicted with such torment,” she says, reaching out to me. Her arms hover beside mine, clearly wanting to touch me but knowing she’s unable. “I will not allow it. There has to be another way.”
I stumble backward, shaking my head. “That can’t be right.”
If Dom is right, and this is what I’m meant to become, why would I only learn about it when I can’t do anything about it?
My phone springs to life, shocking adrenaline through my system and pulling me from the horrible revelation Abigail just shared. When I realize it’s my mom, my heart jumps into my throat as I fumble to answer.
“Hello?” I sputter, trying to stay calm.
“Sweetie, I think you better get back here,” she says.
“What’s happened? What’s wrong?” I ask, my words tumbling out in a cluster.
“Things have gotten worse.” She pauses for a moment “The doctors are concerned Wade may not make it through the night,” she says, her voice as gentle as silk as she tries to soften the blow. “I’m so sorry, Autumn. I wish there was something I could do.”
I pull the phone back, staring at it, unable to process fully what she just said. Without thinking, I hang up the phone, and the entire world feels like it falls away. It doesn’t matter who else needs me or what needs to be done.
Forget curses. Sin-eaters. The Moirai. Forget all of it.
“We’ll have to deal with this later,” I say, shooting Abigail and Dominic a significant look. Neither one of them raise an objection. “You’re gonna need to find your way home, Dominic. I gotta…go.”
With that, I race up the stairs, leaving the resurrection room behind. I don’t stop when I reach my bedroom, either. I keep running, grabbing my keys and heading straight out the door of the manor.
If I was speeding before, it’ll be nothing like this time.
Hang on, Wade. I’m coming. Please, please hang on.
Chapter 18
Ripples
My mind circles all of the recent events—Wade, the mark, the pregnancy, Dominic, the realm of the dead, and the strange box given to me by the Angel of Death.
Intense anger rolls through me and I slam the palm of my hand against the steering wheel.
The Angel of Death…
How could he do this to Wade? Why would he allow this to happen to him? And why would he keep so much from me? We’ve met before? He gave me the mysterious box? Hell, he must have known things were going to go sideways at some point… What else does he know?
My lips press tight, but I can’t hold back the rage.
“Where are you, you bastard?” I call out. My ears ring as the words echo around the small cab space of the Ford Escape. “Wade is sick because of you. He could be dying. Why aren’t you doing anything to stop it?” I hold my breath, half-expecting him to materialize on the seat beside me. When he doesn’t, I continue. “This is absolute bullshit, you know. Wade doesn’t deserve this.”
Despite my anger, he doesn’t answer my admonishment. Instead, I’m left to stew in my anger, worry, and sorrow. But he’s not going to get away from this that easy. Oh hell no, we’re going to mix words.
How I manage to arrive at the hospital without getting pulled over is a complete mystery to me. The entire drive from Windhaven to Mistwood is a total blur as I skid into the hospital parking lot.
The beating in my chest has reached a fever pitch and I hope like hell that Wade’s hung on for me.
Slamming Blue into park, I rush from the vehicle and into the hospital. Mom is right where I left her in the waiting area, and as soon as she sees me, she stands up and rushes over.
“Oh, sweetie. I’m so sorry,” she says, wrapping her arms around me.
“How is he?” I ask, scared to death to hear her answer.
She pulls back, tugging me into a chair beside her, as she takes a seat. “He’s stable, but not well. They can tell that whatever is happening is supernatural in nature, but they’ve never seen anything like it, so they’re not sure how to treat it.”
I raise my eyebrows. “They probably haven’t seen a helluva lot of expulsion marks from the Angel of Death.”
She shakes her head. “Not at all.”
“Can I see him? Will they let me in there?” I ask, desperation filling my tone.
“I think so,” she nods. “Let me see what I can do.”
With that, she gets up, marching herself over to the receptionist. The lady who was there when I first got here is gone and in her place is a man with cropped black hair and dark skin. As Mom approaches, he grins wide at her. I watch the exchange with bated breath, hoping like hell this guy will be more helpful than the last person.
“Thanks, Gary,” Mom says, her voice carrying across the space. She taps the countertop and spins around, giving me the thumbs up as she approaches.
“So, they’ll let me in?” I say, shooting to my feet.
“Give them a second. Gary has to go find the doctor on call,” she says. “But he seemed to think they can get you in there.”
I exhale in relief, but I’m too nervous to sit back down. Instead, I pace back and forth, waiting for someone to come out and talk to me.
Finally, a woman in a bright-white smock comes out of the locked doors beyond, clipboard in hand. Her black hair is piled in a messy bun on the top of her head, giving the impression she’s much taller than she actually is.
“Ms. Blackwood?” she asks, eyeing me for confirmation.
I extend my hand and nod. “Yes.”
She shakes my hand and nods to herself. “It’s nice to meet you. I’m Dr. Lockstad, the attending physician. I understand you are Mr. Hoffman’s girlfriend?” she says, flipping through the paperwork on her clipboard.
“I am,” I say, trying not to sound too abrupt. “But I’m the closest thing he has to family.”
“I see,” she says, clearly stalling as she reads more of his paperwork.
Surely it has to say his family is gone.
My mom stands up, placing her hand along my back in support.
“Well, our hospital policy is that only next of kin—”
“With all due respect, I don’t give a damn about the hospital policy, Dr. Lockstad. I’m not letting the father of my child go through this alone,” I say. “I need to be with him.”
Her dark-brown eyes widen, and she lowers her voice. “The two of you share a child?”
“Not yet, but we will,” I say, my hands falling to my stomach. “I’m pregnant.”
She inhales slowly. Though her eyes hold a hint of suspicion, she nods. “All right. Come with me to his room. We can go over some of the details. Of course, some things will have to be confidential unless he wakes up and authorizes more.”
“Understood. As long as I can be near him, that’s what matters.”
“I’ll give you two some space,” Mom says, leaning in and kissing the side of my cheek. “I’ll run home and grab a few things for you. Is there anything specific you want?”
I shake my head, unable to think about anything I need more than Wade right now.
“Okay, well, call me if you do. I won’t be gone long,” she says.
I nod, reaching for my keys and handing them over to her. “I will.”
W
ith that, Mom heads out the door and the doctor tilts her head toward the intensive care ward. “So, Wade is doing better, but we aren’t certain how to treat him. The infection is spreading and his body is working overtime to try to fight it off,” Dr. Lockstad says, leading the way beyond the double doors.
“My mom made it sound like he had gotten worse. Is that not the case?” I say, watching her closely.
Her forehead creases and she winces slightly. “He goes through unusual episodes. One moment, he’s stable and comfortable. Then, the next his heart rate and temp spike. He almost seizes. It’s had the nurses in a panic more than once.”
My eyes widen and all I can think to say is, “Oh.”
“What do you know about the mark on his chest?” she asks.
“Honestly, not much. His father gave it to him a couple of months ago.”
Concern flits through her features and she makes a face. “I thought you said his family was gone?”
“I—they are. Wade’s an unusual supernatural,” I say, running my fingertips along my forehead. “His father is the Angel of Death.”
Her dark eyes widen and her lips transform into the shape of an O. “Well, that explains a few things.”
“It does?” I ask.
Dr. Lockstad stops and faces me. “The mark has an ouroboros, and we were trying to understand its significance.”
“A what?” I say, tugging my eyebrows in.
“An ouroboros. A snake eating its tail. In some mythologies it symbolizes the cycle of birth and death. But the circle can also mean protection, too. So, the fact that it was snakelike had us a bit confounded,” she says. “I’ll make sure to pass this information along to our supernatural team right away.”
“Good,” I say, hoping like hell this new information is beneficial to them.
“Well, this is his room. He seems pretty comfortable again, but don’t be surprised if he goes into another one of his episodes. It seems to happen more and more frequently,” she says, patting my shoulder and walking away.
The Windhaven Witches Omnibus Edition : Complete Paranormal Suspense Series, Books 1-4 Page 77