Soul Legacy: A Supernatural Ghost Series (The Windhaven Witches Book 2), Carissa Andrews [best books for 7th graders .TXT] 📗

At least, I think she has been?

Then again, what if there is something off about Cat—what would that mean?

A terrifying thought pops into my head and I shiver.

What if her resurrection didn’t go as well as we thought?

Chapter 11

Maybe It Was Fate

If something isn’t right with Cat, how would anyone know for sure? Is there some sort of supernatural test we could do to figure it out? Like a magical blood test or scan?

Even if there was, would I be able to get her to agree to it?

I kick at the snow mound at my feet, wishing this gnawing feeling at the pit of my stomach would go away. I flit my gaze to the area in the woods where I saw her yesterday.

What if there’s nothing wrong and I’m just imagining something that isn’t there? Worse yet, what if it’s all me—in my head?

“Hey, where are you? You seem pretty far away,” Wade says, reaching out and placing a hand on my upper arm, then tugging me close.

I shake away my trepidation and look up at his concerned face. With everything that’s been going on, the last thing I want to do is worry him more. “I was just thinking about the catacombs. I have no idea where the entrance could be, but I know we need to figure it out. Abigail wouldn’t have led me to the information if it wasn’t important to the questions I was asking.”

“It’s here somewhere. I’m sure we’ll find it. Granted, this snow isn’t making it easy…” he says, placing his hand above his eyebrows and scanning the landscape. His eyes stop briefly on the gardening sheds and boathouse. “There are so many places we could check. And it’s not like your yard is tiny.”

“Right? We’ve been out here for ages and still…nothing,” I groan.

“What if the entrance isn’t outside?” Wade offers, dropping his hand.

Shaking my head, I turn to him, “Where else would it be?”

Wade shrugs. “Have you looked in any of these out-building or inside the house? I mean, if I wanted to protect an important burial site, I’d make sure no one else has access to it. Look at what happened to my grandpa.”

My eyes widen and I blink back surprise. “I never thought of that—or put the two together. I guess I just figured, if it’s a burial site, you’d want to keep it outside.”

“Did the article mention if the manor itself was on top of the catacombs?” he asks, shifting his gaze back to the house.

“No, it just said it houses the catacombs. God, I wish my dad were here. I could just ask him,” I say, cursing the poor timing.

“Is it really that hard to get ahold of him? I mean, can’t you call him?” Wade asks, scratching at his chin with his pointer finger and settling his silver gaze on me. His eyes are practically the color of the snow, as his pupils narrow in the sunlight. “Doesn’t he have a cellphone?”

I bite my lip and snicker. “That would mean my dad entered the 21st century. No, he’s still pretty old school. Truth be told, I’m surprised the house has internet. I’ve never even seen him use a computer.”

Wade’s dark eyebrows lift. “Geez, it’s like living with my grandpa.”

I nod emphatically. “Very possibly.”

Wade’s phone dings loudly, echoing through the snow-covered trees.

“Speak of the devil and he shall text you,” Wade chuckles, reaching into his back pocket and pulling out his phone. He turns it over, having a quick look at the screen. Dropping his arm, he starts to place it back into his pocket but stops and does a double take. Concern spreads across his features as he holds it out again and unlocks it. With each passing moment, his eyebrows knit themselves closer.

“What is it?” I ask, unable to help myself.

Wade’s jaw clenches and unclenches. “Looks like news about what happened in Mistwood Point cemetery has made it to the rumor mill. Someone thinks they found what’s left of the decomposing bodies. And of course, the tipped-over tombstone is getting people riled up all over again. There’s a newspaper article on it.”

“Did someone send that to you?” I ask, surprised.

“Nah, I have a Google alert set up. I figured it was just a matter of time. Ugh, I really wish this shit wasn’t happening. I’m sure it’ll somehow make its way back to me,” he mutters, closing his eyes and returning the phone to his pocket.

“You don’t know that,” I say, placing a hand on his arm, trying to reassure him.

Glancing down at where my hand rests, he places his over the top. “I appreciate what you’re saying, but I wasn’t even in town when my grandpa’s columbarium was destroyed. They still found a way to make it my fault. We were actually there for this one. Shit, if they find out you were with…” His face loses some of its color and his nostrils widen.

“Don’t worry about me. I can handle myself, Wade. Besides, we’re in this together. We will get it all sorted out,” I say, refusing to let uncertainty or fear get the better of me.

“I wish I had your positivity. I really do, but I don’t know… Things have a way of going pear-shaped around me.” He frowns.

“Good thing I like pears,” I say, shooting him a cheesy grin.

He flashes me a smile, but it does’t quite reach his eyes.

“Oh, come on. Please don’t crack up on me now. I’m supposed to be Drusilla, not you,” I say, sticking out my tongue.

Wade sighs. “According to the article, they’re bringing in some federal supernatural investigators and something about a world-renowned psychic who deals with these types of unusual cases.”

“Good. If they’re so famous, they should be able to sort all of this out. Right?”

He groans, covering his face with both hands. “We were there, remember? I had to kill both of them…again.”

“But that wasn’t your fault. They were attacking—”

“And how long do you think it will take for people to