So much for this gift of being a postmortem medium. I can’t even seem to control the ghosts in my own damn house. What good is this stupid ability if I can’t even keep myself or the ones I love safe?
If there’s nothing else I can do, I’m damn well going to at least retrieve Wade’s phone. Each step I take is deliberate and slow, just in case Abigail decides to throw anything else at us. Upstairs, everything seems quiet, but the oppressive energy is still lingering in the air. There’s no way I’m going to be lulled into a false sense of security. Not here—not in this house.
When I reach the final stair, I take a deep, cleansing breath and close my eyes. It may be pitch black, but I’m lucky enough to have other senses I can tap into that make moving around in the darkness much easier.
I let the panic and fear wash away as I tap into something deeper and more powerful. Behind my lids, the room takes shape in bright florescent outlines as the corners and edges of the room become evident. This extrasensory ability doesn’t bring back any alarming entities, so I take another breath and walk out into the resurrection chamber and around to the back of the stairs.
With my second sight, the phone comes into view, and I bend down to pick it up. Keeping my eyes closed, I cram it into my pocket rather than mess with the flashlight. It will only destroy my night vision, and who knows how much battery power is left? I need to conserve it, just in case.
There’s still no more movement upstairs, and I pray that Wade’s able to locate my dad…and that he can help.
Without warning, Abigail’s form rushes into my extrasensory view. Her hair is wild and her eyes are wide with fury—but I can’t hear her. She stops mere feet from me, her arms flailing wildly.
“Abigail, I can’t understand you. You’re too quiet. What’s going on? Why are you so angry?” I blurt out in one big blob. I try to keep my voice calm, but I’m not sure I pull it off.
Her face contorts angrily, and her arms only flail harder. Still, I can’t hear a word she says as she opens her mouth wide and silently screams in my face. Every cell in my body crackles with an energy that makes goosebumps flash across my skin.
“You need to stop this—” I demand, taking a step toward her with more courage than I actually feel.
There’s a loud crash right above our heads, making me jump. Then, at the top of the stairs, something heavy slams against the door. I turn my attention toward the sound, unsure if Abigail is trying to cause more destruction or if Wade found my dad. The thud is followed immediately by a strange crackling sound, like flames licking at firewood. Stumbling backward, my heart races, threatening to burst from my chest.
If Wade’s hurt…
I turn my attention back to Abigail, but she’s gone. I can’t see or sense her at all, regardless of which senses I use.
“Dammit,” I curse, racing back to the staircase. “Wade? Is that you?”
The door continues to crackle and groan until the faceplate springs apart. Then the entire latch system bursts, sending pieces of metal flying down the stairs. Wade flings the door open, jamming a foot against the door and thrusting out a hand.
“I couldn’t find your dad, but found this,” he says, holding up a pry bar.
My eyes widen as I race up the stairs and out the door. “Where in the world did you find that?”
“One of the rooms your dad’s been fixing up. Abigail tried to throw it at me,” he says, grabbing my hand and pulling me from the room. “Come on, we need to get the hell outta here.”
Blood trickles down his face, evidence some of the chaos caught up with him. “You’re hurt,” I say, reaching out and hovering my fingertips above the wound.
“Yeah, picture frame. You wouldn’t think those damn things could hurt so much,” he mutters, rubbing at his head. “Anyway, doesn’t matter. I’ll live.”
Swallowing hard, I drop my hand and exit the stairwell. My bedroom looks like a bomb has exploded. The window is completely gone, and my curtain rail hangs at an odd angle as the remnants of the curtain flutter lazily in the breeze. Glass covers the floor and every footstep I take crunches ominously, like I’m walking on the bones of the dead. My bed is tipped on its side and every single drawer on my dresser is open to some degree. Nothing is where it should be. Books, lampshades, my laptop—everything is scattered across the room like someone picked it up and shook the contents.
“Holy shit,” I mutter, unable to stop looking.
“Yeah, it’s not the worst of it. We need to go—” Wade says, dragging me out of the room.
I follow him out into the hallway on some sort of dazed autopilot, but my awareness catches up with me when I see one of the large family pictures of my dad on the floor. He’s younger, barely sixteen, I’d guess, as he stands beside an older man and woman—my grandparents, I’d gather. Though I’ve never met either of them.
“Oh my god, my dad—” I sputter, suddenly dragging my feet. “We need to find him. He needs to get out of here, too.”
Wade shakes his head, turning around and placing both hands on my shoulder in the middle of the hallway. “I’ve looked everywhere, Autumn. If he’s in this house, he’s doing a helluva job hiding. Maybe he has a panic room or something for situations like this. He’s obviously a grown man who knows to take care of himself during something like this. We need to go…”
The walls begin to rattle, but everywhere I look, things are knocked over or broken. Picture frames, knickknacks, items I haven’t even given a second thought to—like the grandfather clock—are already strewn across the floor.
“Why is she doing this?” I cry out, covering my mouth.
“I don’t know, but we can figure it out later.” Wade takes off down the hallway, carefully jumping over items on the floor.
I follow him, treading gingerly so I don’t do any more damage. So many family heirlooms are shattered into pieces, and I have no idea if they’ll ever be restored. My heart breaks for my dad. This house is everything to him... He’s going to be so upset.
When we reach the main entryway, I pull up short and cover the cry of surprise springing from my lips. The grand staircase dangles from the upper landing as if it was twisted in two different directions.
“How in the hell?” I sputter.
Wade shakes his head. “I don’t know. I was trying to find your dad. When I ran up the stairs, it was like they were trying to buck me off.”
“I should go up there. Maybe my dad’s—”
Wade grabs my hand and pulls me toward the door. “It’s not safe. Not the stairs and definitely not this house. Your dad can handle himself.”
A strange, eerie chuckle echoes through the entryway. Suddenly, the temperature of the space drops by at least twenty degrees.
“We’re leaving, now,” Wade asserts definitively. Without letting me even attempt the hunt for my dad, he practically drags me from the house kicking and screaming.
The door groans, giving him some trouble at first, but he somehow manages to get it open. The second we’re outside, the cool, fall breeze ruffles my hair, lightening the pressure against my chest. I hadn’t noticed just how heavy the energy was in there, but it was almost suffocating.
Wade races down the front steps two at a time, reaching his Impala and opening the passenger-side door.
“Get in,” he demands.
I do as he says, taking a seat without question. Closing the door, I stare at the dashboard, unable to divert my gaze from it to look at the manor. Everything has been turned, literally, on its head and I have no idea what I’m going to do.
Wade hops into the driver’s seat and tears out of the driveway like we’re being chased by hellhounds. And maybe we are.
My heart clenches, and in the pit of my stomach a new kind of terror emerges.
What if Wade’s wrong? What if my dad’s not safe?
What if after all of that, Abigail’s hurt him…or worse?
Tears well up in my eyes, and I’m suddenly consumed by this fresh terror as it washes over me.
My dad and I have hardly had any time together. I’ve barely even scratched the surface of who he is, or our family history.
I haven’t heard anything from him. What if he’s hurt or dying inside and I’m leaving him there to die alone?
Chapter 12
The Space Between Us
“Come on, Autumn. We need to get inside and regroup,” Wade says, standing beside me with the passenger door wide open.
I blink up at his outstretched hand. I don’t remember the drive or arriving at his apartment. Hell, I don’t even remember him parking the car and getting out. Reaching for his hand, I allow him to pull me out of the car. My legs don’t feel like they’re attached to my body, as I practically drop to the ground.
“Whoa, I gotcha,” he says, wrapping his warm arms around me and holding me close. “It’s okay, it’s—we’ll figure this out. I promise.”
I place my face against his broad chest, listening to his heartbeat as he slowly rubs the palm of his hand over the back of my head.
Suddenly, my chin quivers and tears spill over the edges of my eyelids. “What if my dad…”
“Shhhh…” Wade murmurs. “I’m sure he’s fine. We can call the house and if nothing else, go back there in the morning. Things seem worse in there after the sun goes down. Let’s just ride this out and we’ll do what we can in the morning.”
“What about the police? Shouldn’t we call them?” I say, lifting my head and staring deeply into his silver eyes.
Wade’s eyebrows rise and he shrugs. “We can, if you think that’ll help. I don’t know what they’ll be able to do, though. It’s not like they’re ghostbusters. They’re just cops.”
I run my hand over my mouth, backing away from him. He’s right. I know he’s right, but I feel so helpless. There has to be something I can do to help or protect my dad from all the madness. If I go home tomorrow to find out I could have done something, but didn’t…
Before I know it, my shoulders are wracking with the sobs I’d been holding back. “Why is she doing this? Why is she so angry—?” I sputter, managing to get a couple of words between whimpers.
“I don’t know, but we’re not going to solve anything out here. Let’s get inside.” Wade takes my hand, leading me toward his apartment building.
I can barely contain all of the thoughts fighting for a turn in my head. What if I can’t get Abigail to stop? Will she hurt us? Really hurt us? Could she—would she…kill us?
Wade leads me down the hallway to his apartment, but I’m barely able to focus on staying vertical. All I want to do is sleep. I need to sleep…
Swaying on the spot, I hear Wade take out his keys and kick open his door, but the next thing I know, I’m floating. My hair sways in the movement, but I can’t bring myself to open my eyes. Instead, I lean into it, letting it sweep me away.
When my eyes flutter open again, I’m lying beside Wade on his bed. The room is dimly lit by a small table lamp on the other side of the room. He props himself onto his elbow and runs his hand along the side of my face.
“How are you doing?” he whispers, locking his discerning gaze with mine.
“I—” I close my eyes, unable to keep them open for longer than a couple of moments. “I’m not sure. I feel so…”
“It’s okay. You’re in shock. This has been a lot to deal with. Just rest, okay? You’re safe,” Wade says quietly as he continues to stroke the side of my face.
The movement is so natural and so comforting, it’s all I can do not to fall back to sleep. Somewhere in the recesses of my mind, my anxiety blossoms and my eyes pop back open.
“My dad—”
Wade’s eyes soften and his fingertips cease their dance momentarily. “I’ve called Sheriff Gordon. They’re going to go and check in on him. We should be getting a call any time now.”
“But what about...” My voice trails off as the memory of Abigail’s attack comes rushing back to me. The house is wrecked—absolutely destroyed.
“He’s been warned to go in with caution. I gave him as many details as I could about what happened. If your dad’s in there, they’ll find him.”
Relief floods through my body for the first time and I lean back into the pillow. Wade resumes his soft touch along the side of my face. For the longest time, I rest there, just concentrating on the way his hand feels on my skin.
“Thank you,” I whisper, unable to put into words everything I’m really feeling right now. Everything I wish I could say.
Wade snickers softly. “What on earth are you thanking me for?”
I open my eyes, taking in his confused expression. “Everything. Coming back into the house after the last time. Being willing to talk to my dad… Getting me out of the resurrection chamber when Abigail made it nearly impossible. Helping me get out of the house… Letting me stay here…” I say, splaying my hand out and gesturing around the room. “It’s more than I deserve.”
“Don’t be ridiculous,” Wade says, scrunching his face.
Slowly, I shift myself to a seated position. “No, I mean it. You didn’t have to come back to the house. You don’t owe me anything. Especially after—”
Wade sits up, too, taking my hands in his and holding them in the space between us. “Autumn, I will never abandon you. I don’t know why you haven’t gotten that through your thick head yet.”
“Gee—thanks,” I say, dropping my gaze to the crumpled blanket between us.
“No, I mean it. I know you’re just running scared. I get it. You’ve been through a lot in a short span of time. Finding out about your gifts, not to mention my lineage and all that goes with it. Then Cat and Colton. The Fetch. Besides, my dad can be damn scary… But I’ve given things a lot of thought over the past few weeks. I love you and I’m not going anywhere. I will always be here for you. Even if I have to do it from a distance,” he says, his eyes pleading with me to understand.
Something inside of me softens and I’m consumed with the desire to let go.
I don’t know what’s changed. Maybe it’s the extreme haunting and very real possibility of facing my own mortality… Or the fact that even though I’ve tried to keep him away and keep him safe, Wade is still always nearby. Even when I try to keep my distance, he’s thrust right back into the middle of things. In essence, it renders my decision to stay apart completely inert.
My eyes fall to his lips, which tug slightly downward. I hadn’t noticed until now just how worn his eyes look. He’s tired and just as scared as I am.
Bending forward, I lift my right hand, placing it along his jawline. Rubbing my thumb across his lower lip, I can’t help but be drawn to him. After all the chaos in my life, all the insanity with my gifts, he’s been the one constant. The one person I turn to and the one I know without a doubt that I can trust with my life.
Wade closes his eyes, sighing contently into my hand. “I’ve missed that,” he whispers.
Before I have the sense to question myself, I close the distance between us, pressing my lips to his. Instantly, my body sparks with an intensity I didn’t know was hiding under the surface. I’ve missed him, too. More than I could ever put into words.
Wade sighs into the kiss, but within microseconds, it triggers something in him as well. He wraps his arms around my torso, pulling me on top of him. With a quick twist of his hip, he rolls us over, so I’m pressed beneath his weight. The movement unleashes so much pent-up energy between the two of us, it almost catches me off guard a second time.
With his hands on either side of my face, he presses his lips and body against mine. It stirs every nerve ending to life, and for the first time in weeks, I want nothing more than to feel alive. To be fully and one hundred percent in my body—before it’s too late.
There’s an impending air of doom that presses against my chest, but I ignore its heaviness and give in to the pleasure of Wade’s touch. Sliding my hands underneath his t-shirt, I lift it upward. For a moment, he breaks our kiss to tug it completely over his head. It drops un
ceremoniously to the floor as he lowers himself back to me. His lips crush down on mine, making my lips buzz and my heartbeat sputter out of control.
My hands slide up and down his back, feeling the contours of his muscles beneath my palms. As they drop to his waist, I tug at his belt, unlatching it. He breaks our kiss, trailing his lips to my jawline and down my neck, sending a fresh wave of shivers coursing through my body.
As I get his belt unbuckled, he grabs hold of my hands. Excitement and passion flush his face, but he peers at me with caution hidden in his eyes. “Are you sure? I don’t—”
His words trigger an internal check, but I realize I’ve never been more certain of anything before.
Holding myself very still, I smile. “I’m sure, Angel.”
The lines of loneliness and weariness practically vanish as the most beautiful smile graces his lips and brightens his face. It’s the invitation he must have been waiting for as he bends forward again, kissing me with dizzying effect. His hands slowly trail downward. A soft moan escapes my lips and involuntarily, I arch my back.
He takes it for the invitation it is, dropping his hands to my jeans, and unbuttoning them. He shifts to the side and in a couple of swift movements, my jeans slide off. Tossing them over the edge, he bends forward again, lifting my shirt and exposing my belly to his kisses. His lips graze the side of my ribcage, my belly button, and trails to my hipbone.
I sit up, tugging my shirt off completely and unhooking my bra. His breath hitches as he kneels back, watching me.
“You are so beautiful,” he whispers. His pupils are wide, covering up any hint of silver he may have hidden in his irises.
Smiling, I reach out for him, urging him forward. He kicks off his shoes and socks, and shimmies out of his jeans, letting them tumble off the edge of the bed. Lowering himself down on top of me, the heat between our bodies builds with the skin-on-skin contact. Once again, his lips find mine as he tips his hips forward. I open my legs, wrapping them around his waist, and wishing I’d taken off the last shred of clothing I have on. I want to be consumed by him. All of him.
Haunted Legacy: The Windhaven Witches Series Page 8