Haunted Legacy: The Windhaven Witches Series, Carissa Andrews [classic english novels .TXT] 📗

“We already know how powerful you are. Your powers have developed quickly, and I just wonder… What if other energies are being drawn to you?”

“What, like a magnet?” I ask, considering.

“Maybe?” he shrugs. “I’m thinking it might not be a bad idea to start with a cleansing of the home first. Bust out the sage and lemongrass. Put up some new wards, cast a few spells that keep out spirits that specifically don’t belong there. Then you’ll know for sure what you’re dealing with. If it keeps happening afterward, then you know it’s gotta be Abigail. Right?”

“That’s a very smart idea, Mr. Hoffman,” I say, tipping my head. “Then, if it stops, problem solved. If it doesn’t…we know I have to move on to more drastic measures. Let’s stop and get the supplies we need before we head to the manor.”

Wade nods, taking another bite of his breakfast.

These new thoughts coil around my mind, releasing a torrent of unwanted anxiety. There’s still so little I know about being a necromancer and postmortem medium. I’ve barely scratched the surface with my studies at the academy and I highly doubt any of them are prepared for someone like me, anyway.

What if this horrible haunting activity is because I haven’t learned to control my abilities? Am I becoming some sort of lightning rod for unwanted paranormal activity?

Chapter 14

Banishment & Protection

After a quick stop to pick up supplies for the banishing and warding spells, we find ourselves taking the final turn down my long driveway. As the multicolored trees blur by, a swell of dread threatens to consume me.

What if this doesn’t work? What if it only pisses off the angry spirit—Abigail or otherwise—that’s haunting the manor?

Shuddering away the uneasiness, my gaze extends beyond the cab of the Impala and I focus on the beauty of the scenery. Fall has always been my favorite time of year, but the ghostly malevolence and thinning of the veil associated with the season are hitting a little too close to home. Literally.

Wade pulls the car around to the front entry. A few construction vehicles litter the driveway, and men walk in and out of the building, just as the sheriff had said. I hop out and Wade grabs the supplies from the back seat.

“Think they’ll care if it smells like sage?” Wade asks, a twinkle in his eyes.

“After the mess in there, I doubt anything could faze them,” I say, raising a knowing eyebrow.

“Fair point.”

Wade closes the door to the back seat and walks around the car. Together, we head up the stone steps to the gaping entryway. The door to the manor is wide open as workers come in and out like bees. Not a single one of them seems like they have time to spare a glance in our direction.

“Talk about dedicated,” I mutter, shooting Wade a sideways glance.

He nods, reaching for my hand. As we enter the building, I stand back, viewing the space in utter astonishment. With the exception of portions of the staircase still being replaced, the majority of the damage has been completely erased by their hard work.

“Holy shit, that’s incredible,” I say, blinking back my surprise.

Wade nods, his mouth agape. “I’ll say. It’s almost as if nothing ever went down. Another few hours and you’d never even know.”

“Right?” I whisper, meandering through the workers as I make my way to the kitchen.

Just as expected, James is hard at work, a mop in hand. He stops, brushing the sweat on his forehead aside with the back of his hand. “Ah, Ms. Blackwood. So good to see you.”

“Autumn,” I say out of habit. It’s been a year now and he still hasn’t taken to my first name. It’s doubtful at this point he ever will.

James tips his head and turns to Wade. “Mr. Hoffman, I presume?”

Wade sets the bag down on the counter and walks over, extending a hand. “I am. Nice to meet you, James. I’ve heard a lot about you.”

“The pleasure is mine,” James says, shaking Wade’s hand. Then, he turns to me with a knowing gaze. “So, the manor was in quite the disarray this morning.”

“Yeah, understatement,” I say, nodding. “Have you seen my dad? Did he tell you what happened?”

“I did see your father this morning. I believe he’s somewhere on the grounds,” James says, his features tight as he swaps his gaze between me and Wade. There’s an uneasy air about him, like there’s more he wants to say, but he’s unsure if he can in front of Wade.

“Wade, do you think you could bring our stuff to the bedroom? I’ll meet you there in just a second,” I say, turning to Wade. Thankfully, he takes the hint gracefully.

“Sure thing,” Wade says, grabbing the bag and walking to the doorway. He turns back before he exits and says, “It really was nice to meet you.”

When he’s left the room, I turn back to James, unsure how exactly to start the conversation I want to have with him.

“Ms. Blackwood,” James begins, setting the mop aside and propping it against the wall. “I appreciate your ability to sense my nuance. It’s a gift your father also shares.”

“No problem. I guess I have a few things I’d like to speak with you about as well,” I say, chewing on my lower lip. “You can go first. What’s on your mind?”

“Well, as I’m sure you’re aware, this…redecorating, so to speak, was pretty extensive. In all of my years here, I’ve never witnessed anything quite like it,” he says, as if treading softly.

My pulse begins to race and it’s all I can do not to gape at him. “So, things like this have happened before, though?”

“Oh, yes. This is a very haunted location. There’s history here. However, there have been extensive wards put in place to keep the manor in a state of relative peace. I’m concerned…” his voice drops off as he flits his gaze to the window. “I’m concerned there may be a failing