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

by Carissa Andrews

  I nod, standing up. “Yeah, it was in the backpack you brought me.” I walk over to it, reaching for the box and passing it to her.

  Mom takes it, turning it over slowly and examining it from a few angles. “I’d like to take a few pictures, if you don’t mind. I can email them off and see what they think. We probably won’t hear back until tomorrow, though,” she says, scrunching her face.

  “Tomorrow is good. I’m completely at a loss right now,” I say, inhaling deeply. “But I think there’s something important about the box. Maybe something that will help Wade.”

  “It’s quite puzzling, isn’t it?” she whispers, pulling her phone out of her pocket and holding the box up. She snaps a few pictures from all different angles. When she’s satisfied, she hands the box back to me.

  I clutch it to my chest, wishing I knew what the hell it was all about. What is so important that the Angel of Death wanted me to have it—but forget it existed at the same time?

  Mom stifles a yawn with the back of her hand.

  “Why don’t you head home, Mom? It’s been a long, horrible day. Get some rest,” I say. “No reason we both have to be here.”

  She shakes her head. “No, no. I can stay here with you, Autumn. You shouldn’t be alone.”

  “I’m not alone,” I say, reaching again for Wade’s hand.

  “What about supper?” she asks, pointing at our uneaten meals.

  “I’m not really all that hungry,” I mutter, making a face.

  “Figured as much. I suppose I should do something with our turkey at home. I turned it way down when I went back, but it should be done soon,” she says, obviously losing the internal battle to stay here. “Is there anything you need? Anything I can do before I go?”

  I shake my head. “No. Just see if you can figure out what the box says.”

  “Okay, sweetie. I’ll bring back some real turkey tomorrow, too,” she says, sticking out her tongue at the small foldout table.

  “That sounds great,” I say, smiling weakly. “I should be more hungry then, too.”

  She takes a deep breath, shoving her phone in her pocket. Rounding the end of the bed, she walks up to me and wraps her arms around my shoulders. “Please keep your strength up. Eat something—not the dinner, but a muffin or something. I’ll leave it all here.”

  “Okay,” I chuckle under my breath.

  She kisses the top of my head, her hand sliding inside my own. With a quick squeeze, she turns on her heel to leave. As she reaches the door, she turns back and says, “Hang in there, Wade. See you in the morning, Autumn.”

  “Okay, Mom,” I say, waving. “Merry Christmas.”

  “Merry Christmas, sweetheart,” she says, trying not to frown. With a quick tug, she opens the door and walks out.

  Suddenly alone, the weight of the day bears down on me. Its oppressive energy is almost more than I can handle. Tears brim at the edges of my eyes, tipping over and painting my cheeks. I drop to my knees beside Wade’s bed, clutching at his hand.

  I’ve never been the praying type, but I’d pray to every god, goddess, or celestial being if I thought just one of them might hear my plight and take notice. For the longest time, I stay there, letting my legs go numb from the cold tile floor. With every fiber of my being I wish I could do something—change it all. Take all this pain away and make everything right.

  All of a sudden, the door to Wade’s room opens. I tip my chin upward.

  The shifts must have changed because a new nurse walks in, shooting me a reluctant smile. Her chocolate hair is pinned up in a loose bun at the back of her head, making the white of her uniform stand out in deep contrast. Even the other nurses had a little color to their garb.

  “Hello,” she says curtly as she closes the door quietly behind her. She walks over to the machines, looking over the readings that hold the details of Wade’s current condition.

  I swallow hard, wiping at my face as I try to regain some composure.

  “This must be hard for you,” the nurse says, not even turning to look at me.

  “You could say that,” I whisper.

  She continues to work, flitting between machines. Then, when she looks like she’s satisfied, she turns to Wade. Holding onto the rail of his bed, she tilts her head slightly to the side, watching him for the longest time.

  “Such a pity,” she finally says, breaking the silence.

  I glance over at her, fighting back the tears still threatening to emerge. “You have no idea.”

  She considers my words for a moment but silently nods.

  I close my eyes, hoping she leaves soon so I can be alone with Wade again.

  “Sweetie, is this yours?” the nurse asks.

  Opening my eyes, she extends her hand to me.

  Confused, I reach out to accept whatever it is she’s found. I don’t remember dropping anything, but who knows in all of the commotion from earlier.

  However, from her outstretched palm falls a single tattered red thread.

  Chapter 20

  Lachesis

  Panic races through me and for a moment, I’m frozen solid with my arm still extended above Wade’s torso. When I look up, the nurse’s golden eyes flash mischievously, and a hint of a smile paints the edges of her lips.

  “Who are you?” I demand, crumpling my hand around the string.

  “I think you already have a fairly decent hypothesis. So, with that in mind, I’d like to hear your theory first,” she says, dropping her gaze from me to Wade. Slowly, she runs her left index finger down his exposed arm.

  “Don’t touch him,” I spit.

  She shoots me a look of admonishment. “If I was here to hurt him, do you really think there’s anything you could do to stop me?”

  My heart thumps unevenly and my torso feels like it’s been hollowed out. “Then why are you here?”

  Her gaze drops to Wade’s shoulder, and she pulls his hospital gown down a couple more inches. Her forehead creases as she takes in the mark on his chest. “Not even Death can cheat Fate,” she mutters. “You’d think he’d know that by now.”

  “Wade didn’t do this—” I sputter.

  “Not him,” she says, clearly agitated as she glares back at me.

  “Then who—?” The question cuts off in the back of my throat and I look back down at Wade’s mark and it’s suddenly clear. “His father,” I whisper.

  “It’s no wonder we’ve been having problems with his thread,” she whispers, tipping her chin up and inspecting the mark a little more closely. “Nice handiwork, though, I have to admit. He knew what he was doing. The ouroboros is a nice touch.”

  “It’s a mark of expulsion. His father banished him,” I say, feeling like I need to somehow defend Wade from her discerning gaze.

  A soft chuckle escapes her lips and she looks over to me. “Is that what he told you?”

  I narrow my eyes, unsure if she’s trying to mislead me or if she’s genuinely this obnoxious. “No, I made it up myself,” I spit back, making a face.

  “Well, you were lied to. This mark here has one purpose only,” she says, her left eyebrow arching high as she presses her finger to Wade’s skin. “To hide his thread from us. I’ll admit, it did take a few more resources than ordinary to locate him.” She suddenly snaps her thumb and index finger together. Her clothes change from a standard nurse’s garb to a pristine white pantsuit.

  My mouth drops open and I blink back in disbelief.

  It’s not a mark of expulsion?

  I take a step back, reeling from the news. Clearly, my mother was right…

  But why would his father lie to us?

  “Which one are you?” I ask, swallowing hard.

  Again, she places her golden eyes on me, letting her gaze creep over me like a spider hunting for its prey. “Lachesis,” she says, lifting her chin almost defiantly.

  A shiver rolls through me to hear her name out loud. Wade and I had studied the Fates last semester, but to learn you’re staring into the face of Fate—or at lea
st one of them—is a bit much.

  “You’re the middle sister, right?” I say, remembering my research.

  She shrugs nonchalantly. “We were all created at the same time.”

  We stare at each other from across the bed. For a moment, we’re at an impasse. I don’t know what she wants, but I’m scared to death to find out. On the other hand, I’m sure one way or another, ignoring her isn’t an option.

  “My sisters and I have our places. It really doesn’t matter which one is first, second, or third. Without all three, reality falls apart,” Lachesis says, patting the edge of Wade’s bed and stepping away. “Chaos ensues.”

  “So, if you’re not here to hurt us…why are you here?” I say, clutching on to Wade’s hand.

  “Come on, Autumn. You’re not this naive.” Deep grooves appear on her forehead as she frowns at me.

  I shake my head. “What are you talking about?”

  “I’m not here for him, for starters. I’m here to talk to you,” Lachesis says.

  My heart skips a beat and I almost drop Wade’s hand to take a step back. “You’re here for me?” My words are breathless as my free hand drops to my abdomen.

  “Don’t worry. I’m not here to claim you, either,” she says. “I just want to talk.”

  I narrow my eyes, instantly suspicious.

  “Do you honestly think most people get the hints I’ve been dropping?” she asks, raising a hand in the air. “Your family is special. It always has been. Truth be told, I was rooting for your dad. Too bad he picked the wrong sister.” She makes a face and does a strange sort of jazz hands effect.

  “What do you mean?” I ask, narrowing my eyes.

  She tips her head back, staring at the false ceiling and fluorescent lighting for a few seconds. “I shouldn’t even be telling you this, but I’m so damned tired of having to keep score.”

  “Okay…”

  Lachesis walks over to the folding table and picks through the leftover food. She finds a small cookie and holds it up. “Do you mind?”

  I shake my head. “Uh, no. Help yourself.”

  Grinning, she rips open the bag and tears a bit off. She pops it in her mouth as she walks back over to the bed. “Everyone thinks when it comes to us, the one they need to appeal to is Aisa—she’s the ones with the shears, after all. I get it. They think that if they offer her something, beg her to reconsider, she can somehow alter the course of what has already been set into motion…”

  “But…?” I ask, hanging onto every word she says despite myself.

  “But,” she says, tearing off another chunk of the cookie, “of the three of us, Aisa is the only one who’s locked into her orders. Why do you think she’s called the Unforgiving One? I mean, come on?”

  “But you’re different?” I ask.

  “Clotho and I, well…we’ve both grown restless in the predictability of our roles. We have a tendency to root for the underdogs every now and again,” she says, winking at me. “Once in a while, there’s a particular family who captures our attention. Yours happens to be one of them.”

  “I’m not following…” I say, trying to read the nuances in between what she’s saying, but I’m afraid if I do, I’ll read her wrong and screw everything up.

  “Look, I know what you’re going to try to do…and I have to admit, I’m impressed,” she says, walking around the end of the bed toward me.

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” I say, clamping my mouth shut.

  Her face goes deadpan and she blinks back at me slowly. “Don’t patronize me, dear. I’m the epitome of destiny. Who do you think finds these loopholes in the tapestry of life?”

  I inhale sharply. “You’re talking about me evolving.”

  A smile breaks out across her face. “Is that what we’re calling it?”

  I press my lips tight, waiting for her to continue.

  “So, here’s the thing,” she says, pressing her palms together. “Clotho and I… Well, we approve.”

  My heart practically stops. Dropping Wade’s hand, I walk around his bedside, pulling her away from where he rests. “You approve? Of me becoming a sin-eater?”

  Saying the word out loud still feels strange.

  “Yes,” she says matter-of-factly.

  My fingertips fly upward, and I press them hard against my forehead. The idea of evolving into a sin-eater was meant to be a surprise to the Moirai, not the other way around.

  “There’s just one thing,” she says, her golden gaze glued to me.

  “Of course there is,” I mutter, almost scared to find out.

  “If you’re to do this, you can’t wait. The threads have been measured for each of you already and they’re beginning to fray. Your friend’s father knew that.” She eyes me knowingly. “Once Aisa has her orders, there will be no stopping her.”

  “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 famil
y 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.