The idea that maybe I would have a longer-than-normal life suddenly flares against my imagination. Would that protect me against the Moirai?
But if it was the case, would I want to live so long? Or would that be painful to watch those you love continue to leave you? Had Wade still been next in line to become an Angel of Death, perhaps…
Mom’s expression turns thoughtful and she shakes her head. “I don’t think so, sweetie. It took me half a century to reach what looked like age ten. Your aging process has been pretty typical.”
I can’t help but frown. For a brief moment, the idea had balanced on the edge of being appealing.
“We do share some commonalities, though,” Mom says, her forehead furrowing.
“Like what?”
“Well, for starters, I can also communicate with the dead. And I love graveyards, too. But I can see them for what they are—gateways into the realm of the eternal,” she says, keeping her voice low as we approach a family building a snowman in their yard.
We’re closer now to the drugstore and I need to find a way to break away from her for a moment to get what I need inside.
My eyebrows flick upward and I exhale slowly. “I don’t know what to say to that.”
“It’s why your father and I were attracted to one another, I think. We shared so much in common—so much I didn’t think I’d ever share with anyone. The gifts we share aren’t very common. In fact, I’d wager…” she pauses, as if choosing her words carefully. After a moment, she sighs and says, “Wade is special, too, isn’t he?”
I stop walking and twist to look at her, unsure what to tell her. “He used to be,” I finally admit.
“Used to be?” Mom asks, her eyes narrowing.
“Yeah, it’s complicated.”
“Try me. I’m pretty sure I can keep up,” Mom says, reaching out and touching my elbow.
I swallow hard, turning from her for a moment. Do I tell her everything? That he was expelled for loving me? That it’s my fault he’ll never be supernatural, never have powers…
Sighing, I say, “The powers he would have gained were stripped from him. But you’re right. He was meant to be an Angel of Death.”
Mom takes a step back, eyes wide. It clearly wasn’t what she had been anticipating.
“An Angel of Death? Are you certain?” she whispers.
“Very.” I nod.
She shakes her head, stepping away and pacing. “And he was stripped of his birthright, you say? How did this happen?”
“His father. He was given a mark that expelled him from the club, I guess.” I shift uncomfortably to one foot, eyeing the drug store a block away.
Her eyebrows tug in and she taps her lips with the tip of her finger.
“What is it?” I ask.
Mom’s hazel gaze switches to me and she says, “Maybe nothing. But I’d like to look at this mark. Do you think he’d let me see it?”
I shrug. “Probably.”
She nods, clearly lost in her own thoughts.
“Mom, I—uh, forgot my toothbrush. I’m going to run into the drugstore quick and pick up a new one. I’ll be right back,” I say, trying to make a quick getaway while she’s thinking.
“Oh, okay,” she says, blinking back her inner monologue. “I’ll come, too. I could use some more shampoo.”
I pull up short, shaking my head. “I can get it for you. Do you use the same stuff as always?”
Mom’s eyes narrow and she smirks. “Yes, but I can grab my own stuff.”
The suspicion in her eyes makes me shift gears. “Suit yourself,” I say, feigning nonchalance. “I was just trying to be helpful.”
“Hmmm,” she mutters, following me anyway.
My heartbeat thumps awkwardly as I pull back the door and step inside. It’s not an overly large store, so keeping things under wraps is going to be difficult. The feminine products are only an aisle over from the shampoo.
I make my way over to the small gift section, pretending to eye the knickknacks and trinkets. Predictably, Mom follows me, checking out the small rack of sweatshirts that say “Mistwood Point” on them.
“Do you need a sweatshirt to remind you of me?” she chuckles, holding a purple one out in front of her. She closes one eye, trying to match it up with my frame.
“Sure,” I say, smiling. “That was my devious plan. Get you in the store so you can buy me clothes.”
She quirks an eyebrow. “I thought it might be.”
I shake my head. “I’m going to grab that toothbrush.”
I meander away from her, watching her dig through the other racks of clothing. As quickly as I can, I grab a toothbrush. I don’t even look at it; the kind doesn’t matter—it’s just a prop.
Shooting another glance down the aisle to locate her whereabouts, I catch a glimpse of her back as she eyes the jewelry display. She’s always loved the natural stone necklaces and bracelets they have here.
Slipping behind the aisle, I make my way to the feminine products section, scanning quickly for the pregnancy tests. I find them on the bottom shelf. Scanning them quickly, I pluck the first one that catches my eye.
99.9% accurate, it reads in the bright-yellow starburst. That’ll do.
There’s no sight of my mom as I sneak my way to checkout with my contraband in hand. She’s probably grabbing her shampoo, so I have to be fast.
I slide my items on the checkout, standing on my toes to hunt for the pharmacist assistant, who’s usually right there and waiting. Rocking back and forth on my feet, I lean as far across the counter as I dare.
Thankfully, she looks up from whatever prescription she must have been filling.
“Be there in just a second, dear,” she says as she finishes up counting.
I look again over my shoulder, eyes wide, as I try to locate my mother. My fingertips tap the side of the counter as I try to dispel my impatience.
The woman sets aside the prescription and walks over to the register with a smile.
“Ah, Autumn. I thought that was you,” she says as she gets closer.
“Yep,” I say, trying not to bounce up and down. I shove the items across the counter to her.
She grabs the toothbrush first, scanning it. My insides are screaming at her to hurry up. Relief floods through me as she reaches for the pregnancy test. Thankfully, the woman doesn’t say a word. She just quirks an eyebrow and presses her lips into a thin line.
The register dings loudly as she scans it and sets it aside. I hold my breath as she reaches for a bag.
“Is that a pregnancy test?” Mom says from directly over my shoulder.
Chapter 10
Put to the Test
I twist around, meeting my mom’s expectant gaze. Her eyes sparkle with a strange glow that makes the green flecks in her irises pulsate. How have I never noticed that before now? She holds my stare, but after a moment, the corner of her mouth twitches into a half-smile. In the simple gesture, my lips part for me to say something, but I end up snapping them shut.
“You don’t need that test. I could tell from the moment you walked into the house,” Mom says, setting her shampoo on the counter behind me as she turns to the pharmacy clerk. “Hi, Terri. How’s your mom doing?”
“Good, Mrs. Blackwood,” Terri says, tipping her chin. “Want me to ring these all up together?”
“Yep, sounds good,” Mom says, ushering me aside with a swipe of her arm.
I stand there, staring at her as she takes charge with the sale and manages everything else in complete stride. Me, on the other hand… Can a person forget how to think?
Blinking away my shock, I take another step back from the counter. I practically bump into the small display of sunglasses as I give Mom room to pay for everything because I lost all sense to stop her.
After a few more quiet words with Terri, she turns back to me. “Ready to head home?”
I nod, still unable to form words just yet. One word rattles around inside my head.
Pregnant.
/> I follow Mom outside, barely aware of my surroundings, let alone how to put one foot in front of the other.
Mom pulls me aside when we hit the sidewalk. “He really loves you, you know. It’s pretty evident in the way he kissed you before we left.”
I stare back at her, nodding. “Yeah.”
“Do you love him?” she asks, tilting her head to the side and taking in my every movement.
My shoulders release and I exhale. “More than anything.”
Her face softens and she chuckles under her breath. “That’ll change when the little one arrives. Not that you’ll love him any less, mind you. But your capacity to love just gets so much bigger. Bigger than you ever thought possible. In fact, so much so that it can be downright scary.”
“More scary than being hunted by fate?” I sputter. They’re the first words that come to mind, but they’re my truth at this moment.
She raises her hand, pressing her thumb against my chin. “Not quite, but damn close.”
My face must betray me because she sets the bag of stuff on the snow-covered bench outside the drugstore, then pulls me to her. After a few moments, she whispers, “We will find a way out of this. I promise you that.” I shoot her a doubtful glance and she sighs. “He’ll make a good dad, you know.”
“Yeah, if we ever get that far.” A smile flits across my face and tears well in my eyes. I pull back to wipe them away. “Are you sure? I mean about me? About this?” I ask, letting my hands fall to my abdomen.
Mom’s eyes crease and she says, “It’s one of my specialties. We might share a lot in common when it comes to death and the afterlife, sweetheart. But there’s actually a fine line between birth and death. You just have to know where to look.”
Anxiety wells up inside my chest and I swallow hard. “This is not a good time.”
“It’s never a good time, Autumn. Kids are scary shit,” she chuckles. “But you can’t fear living just because you know one day all of this will end. The end comes for most of us someday. No, I don’t care if you’re twenty-two or being chased by the Moirai. Take it from me. Running in fear means you end up missing the point of life entirely,” she says, frowning.
“Are you talking about you and Dad?” I ask, narrowing my eyes.
Her forehead creases. “Had I known you would have ended up right in the middle of all of this anyway, I don’t think I would have made the same choices. I would have insisted we take a different path.”
“You have no idea how much I wish you had,” I whisper, thinking of all the lost time with Dad—with the manor. With my gifts. Maybe having learned about them and the Moirai earlier would have been what we needed to overcome them.
What if now it’s too late?
“Mom, I can’t bring a baby in the middle of all of this,” I say, suddenly overwhelmed by the emotions clawing at my insides. “What in the hell am I going to do? We have to stop the Moirai—”
“Listen to me,” she says, gripping me by my shoulders. “We will find a way out of this. All of us, together.”
I nod frantically, hoping the truth in her words somehow finds a way into my soul, because right now, I’m feeling utterly helpless and alone. Raising my hand to my mouth, I sputter, “Oh, my god. Wade. How am I going to tell Wade?”
“Just relax. Sit with this a bit. Take that test, if you think it will make it easier. Then, wrap it up as a present and give it to him for Christmas,” Mom says, her expression thoughtful.
I glare at her from under my eyebrows. “That’s the cheesiest thing you’ve ever said to me.”
“And yet, I bet you don’t have a better plan.” She grins back.
I run my hand down my face.
“You’ll be fine, sweetheart. Whatever you choose—however you decide to tell him—it will be perfect.” She reaches past me, picking up the bag and facing my body toward the house.
We walk back, listening to the sound of our feet crunching in the snow. The closer we get, I’m a bundle of nerves as I try to figure out the best way to tell Wade. Do I do what Mom suggested, as corny as it is? Or do I find some other way to tell him?
What will he say? What will he think?
God, we never talked about this—any of it. Kids, marriage. It’s almost as if neither one of us could foresee a future where all of that existed.
I shudder at the thought, pulling my coat in tighter.
When we reach the house, I’m practically ready to head back in the other direction. Mom must sense my apprehension, too. As we walk inside, her gaze floats around the room to find Wade. When they land on him sitting on the couch, she hands me the bag and says, “Hey sweetie, can you bring the shampoo and toothbrush to the bathroom for me? Then, let’s get started on Christmas dinner. Wade, did you want to help, too?”
She walks away from me, allowing me the excuse to run to the bathroom while she occupies Wade with our next Christmas task.
I rush down to the bathroom, my nerves once again on high alert. For whatever reason, I’m more terrified to know if Mom is right than anything else. Give me the Moirai—let me face fate and death. Just please, don’t let me be pregnant. I can’t be…
Closing the door behind me, I make sure to flick the lock. I pull the toothbrush and shampoo out, placing them in plain sight in case Wade comes in later. I also carefully remove the pregnancy test and set it on the counter as gingerly as possible. Then, I stare at it as if it might catch fire any second.
My heart throbs, making my hands sweat. I wipe them on my jeans and reach for the box. Without allowing time to talk myself out of it, I rip the box open and pull out the test. The small plastic stick is one of the most intimidating tools I’ve ever seen—and that’s saying something. I have a mysterious, magic box in my possession, after all.
My hand shakes and I flip the box over, bending in to read the instructions. Because there’s no way I’m screwing this up.
I follow the instructions to the letter, then sit down on the edge of the bathtub to wait. I hold my breath, watching the second hand tick forward from the small clock on the countertop. When the time is up, I stare forward, unable to bring myself to look over the results just yet.
“Autumn—are you okay?” Wade calls out from the hallway, making me jump.
I stand up, clutching at my heart. “Yeah, I’m fine. I’ll be out in a minute.”
“Were you sick again?” he asks, his voice close—clearly on the other side of the door.
“No, not at all. Just needed the bathroom,” I sputter, picking up the box and instructions so I can toss them into the bin. “I’ll be out in a second.”
“Okay, your mom is starting on the turkey. She goes all out for this Christmas stuff, huh?” He chuckles.
“Yeah,” I mutter, trying to calm my breathing down as I stare at the back of the door.
When I hear his footsteps echo away, I lean against the counter, staring one last time in the mirror before casting my gaze to the test.
Now or never.
I glance down. There are two pink lines clear across the little window.
Tears swell in my eyes and a sob escapes my lips.
Pregnant.
Oh, my god, I’m pregnant.
I inhale deeply, staring at the test. There’s no turning back. We have more than just ourselves to protect now.
Without thinking, I reach forward, shoving the test into my front pocket. Suddenly, the idea of wrapping it up and giving it to him for Christmas doesn’t seem so ludicrous after all.
I’ll find a way to sneak away after dinner’s in the oven so I can wrap it. I don’t know how he’ll react, but one way or another, he’ll know soon enough.
I open the door, walking down the hallway and into the kitchen. Mom’s at the sink, washing her hands. On top of the stove is the prepared turkey, ready to be placed in the oven. She’s decked it all out with citrus fruits and onions.
Wade grins, grabbing an olive from one of the small bowls on the counter. “Hey there, beautiful.”
“Hey,” I say, walking over to him.
Mom turns around, catching my eye. She quirks an eyebrow—her silent question coming across loud and clear. I tip my chin slightly in return. The smile on her face broadens and she walks to the stove, pulling open the oven door.
“Well, I don’t know about you two, but I’m looking forward to a proper turkey dinner,” she says, placing the beastly pan inside.
“I’m just excited to be a part of a family dinner,” Wade says, smiling softly.
Instinctively, I place my hand on his back, rubbing it back and forth. I’d forgotten how little family experiences he’s had. He was on the street since he was fifteen—just after his dad died. With his mom out of the picture, what did his holidays look like? God, they must have been so sad.
Suddenly, the idea of being pregnant takes on a new meaning. It’s the exact thing Wade’s always been searching for. And here I am, scared to death of it being true.
Mom’s right. This might not be perfect timing, but it might still be perfect.
A strange rush of excitement flows through me and I reach for the test in my pocket.
“Do you smell that?” Wade says, scrunching up his nose.
I raise my nose, sniffing into the air. All I can smell is the turkey cooking in the next room.
“What do you smell?” I ask.
He frowns, his eyes distant as he shudders. “It’s like…something’s burning.”
Mom chuckles. “Well, I know you haven’t eaten here often, but I assure you, I know how to cook a turkey.”
Wade shakes his head. “No, it’s not that. It’s something else. Something horrible. Like burnt hair and flesh.”
My eyes widen as I look around the room. The panic button inside me instantly goes off. “Are you sure? I don’t smell anything like—”
Suddenly, Wade clutches at his chest and arches backward on his stool. Before I can stop him, he twists back, falling from the stool and crashing to the floor.
Chapter 11
Cursed Legacy: The Windhaven Witches Series Page 7
