“I love this time of the year,” Dad grins, still staring out the window.
“I do, too. Fall’s my favorite.” I sit down on the love seat opposite him. Watching him for a moment, I can’t help but wonder if he’s doing okay. Something about him just seems a bit forlorn, but I’m not sure if we have the kind of relationship where I could call him on it.
“Dad,” I say, looking down at my hands. “Could I ask you something?”
His gaze drifts over to me. “What is it?”
I watch him for a moment, weighing what it is I really want to ask him. After a moment of internal debate, I say, “Has Abigail ever lashed out before?”
His eyebrows furrow and his expression softens. “How do you mean?”
“Like, has she ever broken a room full of lightbulbs…” I say, letting my voice drift off. “Or tried to hurt anyone?”
Surprise flashes through his eyes, but he recovers quickly. “Well, no…not that I can think of. But, then again, she’s never interacted with me much. I’ve never been able to truly communicate with her before.”
I nod absently. “That’s right, you can’t see her. But you sense her, right? Has she ever attacked you?”
Dad’s eyes narrow as he thinks. “Now that you mention it, there have been a few times where I felt constrained by a presence. Almost as if I was being bound or tied down. It usually happens right before I wake up, though, so I’ve always attributed it to a sleep paralysis. But, perhaps that was her?”
“Hmmm…” I say, biting my lower lip. “Do you think there are any other entities in this house? Anything that could want to do harm?”
“Has something happened?” Dad asks, standing up and taking a seat beside me.
I nod. “Well, yeah, actually. When you were gone, a friend of mine was attacked. He couldn’t breathe. It was like someone, or something, was choking him. And the lights in your study—they all blew out at the same time. It felt very hostile, but I couldn’t see anyone. So, I can’t be one hundred percent that it was Abigail, you know? But after being here for a year, I sorta feel like I’ve grown to know her…”
“Have you tried asking her?” Dad asks, narrowing his gaze.
“Sort of. She’s been really hard to reach lately. I’m not sure why.”
“Hmmm…that does seem a bit fishy then, doesn’t it? What are your instincts telling you?” he says, nodding and rubbing at his chin.
“Truthfully, I don’t know. I’m only starting to understand my gifts. My exposure to ghosts has been pretty limited. It’s all so new still, to be honest.”
“Well, keep an eye on it. If it happens again, let me know,” he says, reaching out and patting my leg.
I shiver from the coolness of his touch, but smile. It’s not often he’s shown any signs of affection. The movement actually reminds me of how Mom used to do the same thing when she was trying to console me.
Suddenly, the doorbell rings, startling us both. Dad pulls his hand back with a start.
“Who’s that?” he blurts out with a hint of annoyance.
I rise from the love seat and smile. “It’s okay, Dad. It’s just my friend. The one who was attacked, actually. Wade—”
Dad bolts upright, his face flushing with an irate sense of fury. “Send him away. I don’t want him here.”
Chapter 10
Sacred Spaces
“What on earth are you talking about?” I sputter, unable to process the abrupt change in direction.
Dad shakes his head, recovering some of his calmness. “Sorry, Autumn, but I just got back. It’s been a stressful few—I don’t even know how long. I just want a little peace and quiet.”
He walks out of the sitting room, leaving me in the cloud of confusion left in his wake.
With my mouth open wide and my head spinning, I fumble forward, making my way to the front door. I pull it back, unsurprised to find Wade standing there waiting.
“That took awhile,” he says, grinning. The smile fades from his face when he catches the look on mine. “What’s wrong?”
“I—” I begin. “I have no idea what just happened.”
Wade bends forward, taking my hand in his. “What is it? What happened?”
“My dad and I were having a conversation—a good one, actually. But he freaked out when you rang the doorbell,” I say.
Wade’s face crumples. “He really doesn’t want to meet me, does he?”
“I don’t think it has anything to do with you. He said something about just getting back and needing some time to relax,” I say. “He seems so—stressed. I don’t know what he’s been working on, but he had bags under his eyes…”
“Well, don’t read too much into it, then. I know how irritable I get when I’m dog-tired. It’s probably best to give him some space to unwind,” Wade offers with a shrug. “Well, I guess I should be going, then.” He jabs a thumb back toward his Impala in the drive.
“Do you…” I say, chewing on my lower lip. If Cat were here, I’d ask her to come over, but since I’m left with few options, I look up to Wade’s expectant gaze. “Can you come in for a bit? I don’t really want to be alone right now.”
Wade’s eyes widen, but he nods. “Of course.”
I back up, letting him walk past me and into the house. Taking a deep breath, I close the door.
My insides constrict. While my brain is saying one thing, my heart is saying another and I can’t seem to get both on the same page. Either way, I just need to feel some sense of normalcy.
“Come on,” I say, tipping my head toward the hallway. We make our way to my bedroom in silence, but the thoughts inside my head are anything but quiet. It’s like the angel and devil on my shoulder have suited up and gone to battle.
When we reach my bedroom, Wade stands awkwardly, waiting for me to usher him inside.
“Go in,” I say, thrusting my hand out and shooting him a tense smile.
When he’s inside my room, I cast a tentative glance down the hallway and close the door. Turning around, Wade stands in the middle of the room, waiting patiently with his hands clasped behind his back.
I smirk, surprised by his stiff demeanor. For as long as I’ve known him, he’s been the most easygoing person I’ve ever met.
I flick on the light switch beside the door and my bedside lamps both flicker to life. The late-afternoon sun is setting, drawing deep shadows in the trees outside and into the corners of my bedroom.
“You can sit, you know,” I say, pointing to the window seat and walking over to it myself.
Wade follows me, watching me with curious eyes.
I sigh loudly and take a seat. “Thanks for coming in here. I just—without Cat, I don’t really have anyone to talk to. And things have just been…weird.”
“Tell me about it,” Wade agrees, sitting down on the bench beside me. His knee bumps mine, and he leaves it there.
Rather than shifting away, I stay there, letting the closeness of him burn at my senses. Things have gotten so confusing around here, at least I know it’s one thing that’s still real.
Clearing my throat, I say, “Despite all the weirdness back there, Dad and I did talk a bit about the haunting. Not a lot…but enough.”
“Okay?” Wade says.
“I told him about your attack. He thinks it could be Abigail,” I say, casting my gaze out over the courtyard. Without looking at him, I can feel the weight of his stare.
“Really? I thought we decided it wasn’t her. The vibe isn’t right,” Wade counters.
I nod, turning to face him. “I know. But then I remembered something Abigail said to me really early on. She told me she was bound or there was a binding she wanted my help with. She said I was the only one who could help. At the time, I didn’t know what that meant, but then I saw how she became a ghost.”
Wade’s silver eyes expand. “You did?”
“Yeah,” I say, narrowing my gaze as I remember the vision. “It was like she was reminding me of her request—or like it was the only way s
he could get through to me. Either way, it left me thinking I should have been asking more questions. Like, how do we help her? It never really occurred to me that she might not want to be a ghost.”
“Did she ask you to help her cross over?” Wade asks.
“Not in so many words. But it’s the feeling I got. Any ideas on how to make that work?”
He shrugs. “I understand the straightforward crossings, but ones like hers aren’t really my area of expertise just yet. I could find out, though.”
“Would your dad answer any questions if he knew it was for my family?” I frown.
“There’s only one way to find out for sure,” he says, smirking. Reaching out, he places his hand on my knee, and holds it there a moment.
The gesture is small, but it’s enough to make my pulse race. I wish things were different. I wish there wasn’t this distance between us, even though I’m the one who put it there. I wish I could release it all and just be with him. I wish…
Without warning, the lights on my nightstands begin to flicker.
“Shit, not again,” Wade says, suddenly standing up. His face is apprehensive as he spins around, looking for something neither of us can see. “Is she here?”
I stand up, trying to sense Abigail. “I don’t know. I can’t tell.”
A cold, suffocating energy invades the room, closing in on me. I shiver, trying to release its grasp.
“Do you feel that?” Wade says, clenching his jaw. “It’s like all the warmth from the room is being squeezed out.”
I nod. “Yeah, I feel it—”
With a soft pop, the two lights on the nightstands go out and the room goes dark. The light from the picture window cascades a dark blue across the space, giving me enough light to walk over to the bed. I pull the chain on the lamp, hoping the light will turn back on, but of course, nothing happens.
“I think we should get outta here. Come with me to my place,” Wade says, suddenly at my side.
I shake my head. “If this is Abigail, I need to know why she’s doing this.”
The hairs on the back of my neck rise as if a hand brushed along them. The next thing I know, a strange, scratching sound permeates the stillness. It starts off low and quiet.
Holding my breath, I spin around as the sound moves from wall to wall, rising upward and falling down toward the floor.
“Where is it?” Wade asks, trying to stand between me and the unseen specter.
“I don’t know,” I breathe. For the second time in a fortnight, I’m afraid to be in my own house. “Abigail—is that you?”
The scratching sound abruptly stops, and I reach out for Wade, grabbing hold of his hand. Before I can make contact with him, I’m slapped across the face. The motion of it makes my head snap back and stars blossom across my vision.
“What in the hell just happened? Are you okay, Autumn?” Wade says, reaching out and pulling me into his protective embrace.
Despite myself, my body trembles as I reach my hand up, covering my cheek. “It slapped me—she slapped me.”
“What in the hell? We need to go…” Wade says, steering me toward the door.
“No, I need to talk to her. We need to figure out why she’s doing this,” I cry out, twisting toward the middle of the room. “She won’t stop until we know why.”
“It’s not safe in here. Who knows what could happen next. We need to think and come up with a better plan.”
“Then, let’s go to the resurrection chamber. It’s a sacred space. She wouldn’t hurt us down there,” I say, twisting in his arms.
The scratching noise resumes, echoing all around us in no particular order. It’s like it’s all around us, and this time, it’s punctuated with a deep knocking sound, like someone dropping something heavy on the floor.
“Get out…” a voice whispers, sending icy chills coursing down my spine.
Wade’s voice rises an octave as he says, “Won’t hurt us? How do you know that? She seems pretty pissed off.”
“She must be confused—or hurting. I don’t think she means to be doing any of this,” I say, releasing myself from his embrace to make my way to the door. “But there’s one way to find out for sure. Let’s go.”
Wade snickers, muttering under his breath. “Just trying to scare us… Yeah, I’d say she’s doing a bang-up job of managing that. Especially after last time.”
“Come on,” I say, grabbing his hand.
Wade clutches my hand tightly but follows right behind me. The closer we get to the doorway leading to the resurrection chamber, the louder the scratching along the walls becomes. Out of the corner of my eye, a shadow moves in the darker recesses of my room, making me freeze.
“Did you see that?” Wade says, twisting toward the shadow.
“Yeah, and I don’t wanna stick around to see how it manifests.” I twist the door handle, opening it and taking the first few steps with Wade in tow. The ordinarily cool air of the basement level rushes up at me, but it’s warmer than my bedroom right now.
Trying to calm my nerves, I reach out to the sacred space of the resurrection chamber, summoning the magical torches on the walls to ignite. However, they refuse to heed my calling.
“Do you have your phone? I can’t get the torches to light,” I say, turning back to Wade.
“Yeah, I think so.” He reaches into his pocket, fumbling with his phone. It drops from his hand, tumbling down a number of steps before sliding between the stairs, presumably landing on the dirt floor below. “Dammit. Sorry, Autumn.”
“It’s okay, I’ll grab it,” I say, dropping his hand and racing down a few stairs.
“Wait. Did you hear that?” Wade reverses his direction, stepping out of the stairway, and back into my bedroom. “Hang on. Someone’s calling your name. I think it’s your dad.”
Turning back around, I walk up a couple of stairs. My heart is racing, and I know we need to summon Abigail in a safer space. “Don’t worry about it. I don’t want to bring him into—”
All at once, the large picture window in my bedroom shatters into the room. It peppers Wade as he hunches over, shielding himself from the debris.
“Wade—” I cry out, racing back up the steps. Just as I reach the door, it slams shut, separating the two of us and plunging me into darkness.
Chapter 11
Panic Room
“Autumn!” Wade yells. I can hear him clawing at the other side of the wooden slab separating us. “I can’t—the door handle is missing!”
“What the—?” I sputter, dropping my gaze and reaching for my side of the handle. The light is practically nonexistent from the glass block window on the outer wall, but he’s right. It’s gone. It’s as if it has been magically erased from existence. I spin on the spot, my hands raking through my hair. “Think, Autumn, think…”
“Stand back,” Wade says. “I’ll kick it down.”
“No,” I say, twisting back to the door. “It opens inward, remember? You kicking it won’t help. Let me try.”
Spreading my hands out to either side of the stairwell for more stability, I lift my left leg and aim it at the door’s lock. With as much leverage and might as I can muster, I land my kick squarely on the weakest point, but it doesn’t even budge. I try again, with the same result.
“Dammit,” I curse. “It won’t budge. I don’t think I have enough leverage from the stairs.”
“There has to be something…” Wade begins.
Something crashes in my bedroom and the pieces tinkle like wind chimes as they hit the floor. Suddenly, the sound of furniture twisting on the hardwood floor makes me freeze.
“Wade, what’s happening? Are you okay?” I call out. My upper body begins to tremble in the silence that greets me. “Wade—”
“I’m okay,” he says, breathlessly. “Shit, she’s seriously pissed. She’s tipping the room upside down. How do we get you out? Is there any other way?”
“No, this is the only door in or out,” I mutter, sliding down the door and taking a sea
t on the first step. I bury my face in my hands, trying to block out the terror rising up inside me.
What do I do? What do we do? Why in the hell is any of this happening?
“Abigail,” I yell. “Abigail, stop this right now. I get it. You want help and I haven’t been listening. But I’m listening now. What can I do to help?”
Maniacal laughter echoes up from the resurrection chamber, making the hairs all over my body stand on end. It doesn’t even sound like a person, let alone Abigail.
There’s a loud thump on the other side of the door and Wade screams out in pain. A muffled scraping sound follows.
Springing to my feet, I scream, “Wade? Are you okay?” I bang on the door with the side of my fist, trying to beat it into submission.
From farther away, Wade calls out, “She’s getting stronger. She dragged me clear across the room. Autumn, we need to get out of this house. Now.”
“I don’t know how,“ I say, casting my gaze around the stairway. What little light I had from the glass-block window has faded and it’s gotten darker. My gaze lingers on the blocks, but even if we managed to find a way to bust eight inches of glass block, I don’t know if I’d be able to fit through the small opening. “Wade, you need to find my dad. Run and get help.”
“On it,” Wade calls out.
My heartbeat thrums loudly in my ears, making it impossible to hear anything but my own panicked state. How did things get this messed up?
I rub at my forehead, trying to calm my thoughts so I can think clearly.
I gotta do something…gotta help somehow. How do I make things right when Abigail won’t even talk to me?
What on earth have I done to warrant this?
“God, I hope Dad can help,” I whisper to myself.
With shaky legs, I walk down the stairs. I feel completely helpless.
Haunted Legacy: The Windhaven Witches Series Page 7
