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

“Please,” Wade pleads, grabbing hold of my hands. “You’re—it’s not safe here. There’s something in this house and it’s not happy.”

“Then I need to get to the bottom of it,” I say, straightening my shoulders. “Right now, I’m the only one who can. I’ll summon Abigail and get her to help me. Besides, technically, I don’t know that it’s here. You could have brought it with you. I’ve been learning…”

“But—”

I drop his hands and walk out into the landing. “No buts. Go home and get some rest. Keep the phone next to you and call for help at the slightest sign of anything.” I bite my lip as I turn around to face him. “Maybe ask Chelsea to keep an eye on you.”

Wade’s eyes narrow and his jaw sets.

“Come on, let me help you to your car,” I say, bending an elbow for him to grab hold of.

Instead, his eyelashes flutter, and he steps around me, reaching for the handrail. His footsteps are deliberate and slow, but when he reaches the front door, he grabs hold of the handle to open it, then pauses.

A long, awkward silence floods the otherwise-expansive entryway and I hold my breath, waiting.

Finally, he turns around. “Autumn, it’s not me I’m worried about. You need to be very, very careful. Please, reconsider and come with me.”

I tilt my head to the side, shooting him a lopsided grin. “You know I can’t do that.”

“Then please, call someone—anyone. Call James and have him stay with you until your dad gets back. You shouldn’t be alone in this house right now,” he says, concern plastered over his features.

“Okay, I’ll think about it,” I say, walking up and taking hold of the front door. Opening it wide, I stand aside. “Are you sure you’re good to drive?”

Wade’s jaw sharpens and he nods. “Yeah, I can handle it.” He shoots me a sideways glance and drops his gaze to the ground as he walks out the door and down the front steps. As he reaches the driver’s-side door, he stops as if he’s going to say something, but thinks better of it. With a click, he opens the door and hops inside.

Conflicting feelings twist and churn inside my chest as I watch his taillights fade down to the end of the driveway. Am I doing the right thing letting him leave? Is he right? Should I have gone with him? As much as I would have loved to do that, this event only put things into sharp perspective for me.

I lied to him earlier. Whatever happened didn’t come with him; it was here before he arrived. I felt its presence and didn’t know what it was.

Now, it’s time to figure it out.

I close the door and spin around on my heel. “Abigail,” I call out, letting my voice echo all through the house. “I know you can hear me. Where are you?”

Dead air permeates the space around me and I let out an exasperated sigh. Where in the hell is she?

All of a sudden, movement on the upper landing catches my eye. It’s too fast to see exactly what it is, but I race up the grand staircase after it.

“Abigail? Is that you?” I say, stepping out on the upper landing.

I turn to the right, surveying the hallway. All movement has ceased and there’s no evidence of anyone, living or dead, within eyeshot. To my left, the study doors are still splayed open wide, but it’s so dark out now, all I can see is my reflection on the glass staring back at me. Stepping forward, I grab each door hand and tug the doors shut.

I’ll need to find some consecrated water, salt, and a boatload of sage tomorrow to clear its energy.

As I release the handles, a strange, subtle clicking sound echoes down the hallway. The sound isn’t like anything I’ve ever heard and the hairs on the back of my neck stand on end.

Suddenly, staying home alone doesn’t feel like it was the wisest decision. Swallowing hard, I pull my phone from my pocket and clutch it close. Peering into the darkness of the hallway, I take a few tentative steps forward.

The clicking sound comes and goes, stopping at odd intervals that make it impossible to track. Especially as the thrumming of my heartbeat pounds inside my ears.

“Hello?” I call out. My voice wavers, and rather than being clear or forceful, it’s barely louder than a whisper. “Who’s there?”

I continue to creep forward, edging farther from the entry’s light and into the darkness of the hallway. Holding my breath, I eye the light switch where the corner bends, and I debate whether it’s better to make a run for it or continue slowly to avoid startling it.

Slow and steady wins out as I tiptoe down the hallway. The crackling sound skitters across the space, as if crawling the walls beside me, then directly behind me. Goosebumps flash all over my body as I spin around, trying to get a clear view of whatever it is.

I catch a glimpse of a figure, but it phases in and out like an old television show that’s lost its reception. The clicking circles around me until it vanishes down the hall and around the corner. Picking up speed, I chase it, almost forgetting to flick on the switch as I get to the corner.

Stopping, I turn back, flicking the light switch. The archaic sconces along the hallway ignite, casting an amber glow into the hallway, but I don’t know if it has made the space any less foreboding.

Closing my eyes, I try to calm my heartbeat and center myself. If there’s one thing I’ve learned over the past year, it’s that things can go sideways fast when you’re not in control. With my eyes still closed, the crackling starts again, this time directly beside my right ear.

Refusing to even breathe, I wait for it to pass before opening my eyes. As I do, the apparition flickers