Soul Legacy: A Supernatural Ghost Series (The Windhaven Witches Book 2) by Carissa Andrews (the first e reader .TXT) 📕

I swear, even the torches dim under the intensity of the anger bubbling to the surface.

Wade drops his chin to his chest and turns back around. “Isn’t that what you want? For me to give up everything the way you did?”

Pinching the bridge of his nose, Wade’s dad sighs heavily. “You know why I had to… If I could have stayed longer—”

“But you didn’t, and you took Mom down with you,” Wade spits. “And I’ve been here to pick up the mortal pieces alone. So forgive me if I don’t give a damn about the legacy you want to impress upon me.”

His father’s face crumples, but his jaw sets. “I will not help you again. Death follows this one like the plague.” He raises a finger to point at me and I jut out my chin. He ignores it and turns back to Wade. “Next time, no more games. No more defiance. You will take your place.”

“Fine,” Wade mutters under his breath.

“And I will not allow you use our assets to help—”

“I said fine,” Wade repeats, practically spitting venom back at his dad.

“Wade—” I start, taking a cautious step forward. “Please be careful.”

Wade shoots me a sideways glance and holds out a hand, telling me to stay back.

His father turns his penetrating gaze on me. Despite looking so much like the man I love, a terrifying shiver races up my spine and I clamp my mouth shut.

Sighing heavily, he extends a hand summoning Wade’s soul. His spirit sweeps forward as if being sucked forward without his consent. Then, with the flick of his dad’s wrist, Wade’s soul is thrust back inside his body.

Instantly, Wade crumples over, sputtering for air and groping at his chest. Despite myself, I rush forward, reaching out and wrapping my arms around him.

“Final chance,” his father whispers.

“I heard you,” Wade says, taking deep breaths and pushing himself up to stand.

I stay beside him, offering my shoulder to lean against as I wrap my arm around his waist. His father peers down at me, as if still confused by what his son is doing with someone like me…and truth be told, a part of me is beginning to wonder the same thing.

After a moment under his scrutiny, his presence becomes overpowering, and I fight the odd urge to kneel at his feet.

“I am not the only one whose radar you’ve fallen upon. You have many choices ahead of you, Autumn Blackwood. I hope you choose them well,” he says, peering down at me from the bridge of his nose.

“I’ll do my best,” I say, forcing my words to sound more confident than I actually feel.

I mean, Death doesn’t want me around his son…and is telling me directly not to fuck up. That’s kinda trippy.

“If it wasn’t for the fact that your father helped me in the past, and your ancestors have taken up the task as keepers of these sacred catacombs—your lineage would have been extinguished centuries ago.”

I blink wide-eyed back at him, unsure what to say to something like that.

Taking another step closer, he lowers his eyebrows and cocks his head. “So help me, if you put my son’s soul in jeopardy again, I will not hesitate to extinguish your lineage anyway. No matter the bargains of your ancestors. Are we clear?”

Panic sweeps through me and I nod, unable to form words.

“Excellent,” he says, straightening up and adjusting the end of his sleeve. “Now then, I believe this belongs to you.” He holds his hand out, offering me something.

I extend a shaky palm, unsure I want to take anything from the Angel of Death. Particularly after he just threatened me.

When my hand is directly beneath his, he lets a single red thread fall. It’s the size of a piece of yarn, but frayed and tattered like it’s been chewed up and spat back out.

I look up, confused.

But he’s gone.

Chapter 28

Where Do We Go From Here?

I barely remember the next blur of events, as Wade somehow manages to summon the rest of the revenants into the main chamber. By some strange miracle, they all file in, one after the other.

When the last of them shuffle in, fourteen in all, Wade turns expectantly. “You’re up.”

My mind churns through everything that’s happened these past few hours and I nod absently.

Wade watches me with those deeply intense eyes of his and I stumble backward, realizing he means it’s my job to inter them. Taking a deep breath, I call out, “Abigail, the rest of the revenants are here. We need your help.”

Both of us stand shoulder to shoulder, scanning the rounded room, eyeing each of the tunnels in case she comes out of the darkness.

When nothing happens, Wade drops his chin, kicking softly at the dirt on the floor. The revenants don’t seem to mind the delay; if anything, they seem perfectly content as they wait for their end.

Clearing my throat, I shrug and walk over to the spot in the middle of the room where the grimoire resides. I mull over how I intend to use it, considering how I can’t even read any of the pages. As I get closer, the stone pedestal rises, almost as if it senses me.

When the pedestal reaches its full height, I pause, letting my fingertips trace the symbols on the cover. One of them stands out, now vaguely familiar after Abigail used me to draw it. The triple triangle, overlapping and interlocking through itself.

Wade watches me from across the room, waiting patiently to see what I plan on doing. His expression is almost expectant, like he thinks I have it in me to do this without Abigail… But I know better.

Shaking my head, I flip open the grimoire, unsure if I should even be bothering with the book. The words Abigail spoke before have settled in the back of my mind and maybe, just maybe, I could conjure them up again without the book.

Yet, as I stare down at the pages, my mouth