The Windhaven Witches Omnibus Edition : Complete Paranormal Suspense Series, Books 1-4 by Carissa Andrews (graded readers txt) 📕

single trace left of it. Then the inky black lines that had spun themselves outward from the mark on his chest erupt, consuming every square inch of his skin. His silver eyes darken until even the whites are crowded out by the darkness.

“What the hell?” I screech, rushing into the room.

Before I can reach him, both his father and I are thrust backward as Aisa raises a single hand in our direction. I fight against whatever energetic hold she has on us, but it’s no use.

Aisa’s smile widens into a lopsided smirk, and without even looking at Wade, she says, “It’s time to ride, Horseman. You have work to do.”

My heart skips a beat, lodging itself firmly in my throat.

Horseman?

As in…one of the Four Horsemen of the Apocalypse?

Oh, my god. This can’t be happening.

Chapter 23

Fail-safe

As if everything that happens next is up to free will, Aisa chuckles to herself and vanishes in the same swirl of sparks that Lachesis did.

Her laughter rings in my ears as Wade’s dad and I drop to the floor, landing hard on our feet and crumpling to the tiles. However, the Angel of Death is faster than I am. He’s on his feet and rushing over to Wade before I’ve even managed to collect my bearings.

Wade’s blackened form leaps from the bed, ripping off the hospital gown and dropping it to the floor. A strange, guttural sound escapes his lips as the bones inside him begin to snap and bend, growing in both height and size.

Stepping out in front of Wade’s deforming body, the Angel of Death stretches his arms out wide. “Wade, you have to fight this. Don’t let the Moirai win.”

However, what stares back at him is undoubtably no longer Wade. Instead, the Horseman tilts his head down, his black eyes staring straight through the Angel of Death.

“Wade, please,” his father pleads. It’s a last feeble attempt—even I know that.

The Horseman responds with a quick, forceful jab through the Angel’s abdomen. His black fist protrudes through the other side for a moment, then disappears when he retracts it.

The Angel of Death collapses, falling in some sort of bizarre slow motion.

“No—” I cry out, crawling my way to him and yanking him backward as quickly as I can.

His breathing is labored as he struggles to hold himself together. “Use…the…box,” he says softly as something akin to black blood oozes from his lips. He reaches out, clutching my hands in his. His eyes plead with me but dim all too quickly.

Slumping forward, his body disintegrates into a cloud of black smoke that disperses right through my outstretched hands.

Before I can stop myself, I scream. The sound does nothing to deter the Horseman as he turns his horrifying black stare toward me. Instantly, I know there’s no way I can outrun him, and he’s clearly got no qualms about killing people who are in his way. Even ones his body would have otherwise cared about.

Without a second thought, I propel myself from my physical body, forcing myself into astral form in the hopes that it might confuse the Horseman long enough for me to regroup. My body drops, and for a moment, the Horseman halts his progress forward.

If this form could breathe, I’d be holding my breath, hoping he doesn’t realize my heart is still beating.

When my body doesn’t move, the Horseman drops to his hands and knees, prowling forward like some kind of feral animal. Even in this form, I can feel the energy of the room shift as the Horseman bends closer to my body. His tongue flicks outward as he tests the air.

“Come out, come out,” he chides, his voice a deep baritone that sends a chill straight through me.

I don’t take the bait. But I also don’t leave. If there’s one thing I know, it’s that I need to get my ass out of here and find a way to warn everyone. I can’t do that if I’m dead, and I sure as hell can’t do that in this form.

“Hey, you big black oaf. What do you think you’re doing? Leave the girl alone,” Diana Hawthorne calls out from the doorway. Behind her, Cat and Colton look like they’re ready for the beat-down of the century.

When the Horseman of Death looks over his shoulder, Diana juts her chin out, blowing some stray pink hairs out of her face.

“If you really want a challenge, how about picking on someone who can’t die,” she says, placing a hand on her hip.

The Horseman turns, clearly more interested in this new prey than the measly little girl crumpled on the floor. He rises, his black body almost tall enough to reach the ceiling.

“Ooooh, shit. Here he comes,” Diana mutters, her blue eyes wide as she spins on her heel.

The three of them race off down the hall and the Horseman takes the bait and rushes out the door after them.

Relief floods through me and I don’t hesitate. I drop back into my physical form, with the clear intention of getting as far away from here as I can. There’s no time for fear or grief. I need to get somewhere safe and figure out my next move.

As I regain my physical bearings, I scramble to my feet. In the distance, I can hear the commotion caused in the wake of the Horseman and his chase. Screams pierce the silence and some are abruptly cut off in mid-tone.

My stomach rolls and I find myself again fighting the urge to be sick. Holding onto my stomach, I race from the hospital room, running the opposite direction from where Diana and the others ran. I need to put as much distance as possible between us.

Turning the corner, I slam straight into my mom. I let out a surprised squeal, collapsing into her.

“What in the hell is going on?” she asks, craning around me to get a better view.

“Everything—” I wail. “Oh, my god, Mom. Wade…” Tears rush to my eyes and for a moment, she tugs me