Cursed Legacy: The Windhaven Witches Series, Carissa Andrews [korean ebook reader .TXT] 📗

as Wade’s dad grabs hold of my wrist. “I know what you’re thinking, but you can’t go in there. You’ll do more harm than good. Trust me. You have a bigger role to play than that.” His silver eyes bore through me, breaking my heart a little bit more.

“But—”

Suddenly, my phone goes off again, making me jump. This time, I pull myself out of the Angel of Death’s grip and yank it from my pocket.

I press the answer button without even looking at who’s calling.

“What the fuck did you do?” Diana Hawthorne says, not lending to any pleasantries.

My mouth falls open and for the briefest of moments, I’m pulled from my utter anguish to be completely confused.

“What do you mean?” I say, shaking my head. “I didn’t do anything.”

“Yeah, well, the universe begs to differ,” she laments. “You’ve pissed off some seriously big players.”

I exhale, dropping my gaze to the tiles, and running my fingertips along my forehead. “Tell me something I don’t know. Do you have anything useful?”

“Well, I could have warned you, if you would have answered your damn phone,” she laments. “We’re on our way, but you need to do some serious backpedaling. Where are you? Who are you with?”

“I’m at the hospital with Wade. He’s—” my voice cracks and I can’t bring myself to say the rest. Instead, my eyes dart to his bed as the medical personal continue to do their best to bring him back.

“Things are shifting too fast for me to get a clear read. Whatever is going on, it sent me into a brain-splitting, migraine-inducing vision that yanked me straight out of a dead sleep. The world’s about to go supernova and from best I can tell, you’re at the epicenter,” Diana says, her words spewing out hard and fast.

“Don’t be ridiculous,” I say, looking over my shoulder at Wade’s dad.

The Angel of Death’s eyes are focused into the hospital room, but a new look of apprehension has replaced his previous reserve.

“What is it?” I say, twisting back to the room with the phone still clutched to my ear.

The nurses and doctors take a step back, their faces grim.

“I’m going to call it,” Dr. Lockstad says, looking at her wrist. “Time of death, 1:43 a.m.”

My knees give out and I fall forward, landing hard on the tiled floor. “No…”

“You have to let me do my job,” the Angel of Death says, stepping past me. His hand brushes the back of my head as he moves into place.

I shake my head, unable to accept what I’m seeing. This can’t be real. It can’t be happening…

Not Wade.

“Autumn—Autumn are you still there?” A tiny voice calls out from the phone still clutched in my hand.

Slowly, I lift it to my ear.

“He’s dead,” I whisper, blinking back tears. There’s nothing else Diana could possibly say that would matter more than that.

I press the red button, unable to stop the numbness that attacks me outright.

After all the death I’ve witnessed these past few years, this has the ability to hollow me completely. Not even the loss of my father did that.

Dr. Lockstad turns to face us, her expression full of empathy. “I’m so sorry. We did everything we could.”

The two nurses continue to flit around the room, but I can’t bring myself to care about anything they do. I can only stare at Wade’s lifeless form as I fight back the nausea rolling through me.

Suddenly, something in the energy of the room shifts.

I didn’t notice the light particles that spread throughout Wade’s body until his spirit, soul—whatever you want to call it—pulls back from the cells in his human shell. It melds together, congealing into a bright silver ball just above his abdomen. A thin silver string, just like the one I followed in the realm of the dead, materializes from the orb, revealing itself as connected to the Angel of Death.

Wade’s dad lifts his chin slightly and his shoulders noticeably relax.

Despite myself, I push to a stand. My legs feel like they could give out at any moment, but I edge forward, holding onto the doorway for support.

Everything inside me screams to do something—anything. Bring him back, make him whole again. Defy the Fates and tell them where to shove it.

But the numbness consumes me, blanking out the desire to even breathe.

I’m so done.

Let them come for me. They can take me, for all I care.

“Welcome home, my son,” the Angel of Death says, his arms out wide, as if he plans to hug the orb.

The doctor shoots him a strange look, then catches the attention of the nurses. Without a word, she tips her head toward the door and the three of them make a quick exit, clearly unsure what to think.

I step back, allowing them to pass by. They each say something to me as they squeeze past, but I can’t seem to make any of it out. I just nod, staring at the angel in the room and the bright silver orb as it shifts, re-materializing into a human shape before my eyes.

The room fills with an intense energy—like every emotion wrapped up into one is somehow able to flood into the tiny ten-by-ten-foot space.

Before I know it, the silver orb transforms completely, taking a perfect resemblance of Wade’s previous form, despite the fact that his physical body is getting cold on the bed behind them.

Another bout of nausea rolls through me, and I cover my mouth to fight back the urge to vomit.

The silver light diminishes as the form is complete, and yet there’s a faint, glowing orb of energy that pulsates around the two of them.

“Hello, Wade,” his father says, smiling softly.

Wade smiles back, looking happier than I’ve seen him in a long time. “Dad. Why are you here? What’s—” he pivots slightly to the side, stopping when he sees his body on the hospital bed. Twisting around, he takes in more of the room, his eyes wild and brows tugged in. Again, he stops when he sees me in