The Windhaven Witches Omnibus Edition : Complete Paranormal Suspense Series, Books 1-4 Carissa Andrews (the beginning after the end read novel txt) 📖

tip my head, hiking my backpack up over my shoulder. “If he’s there, yes.” I turn around and walk out, not wanting him to see the panic welling up inside me.

Butterflies tussle around in my stomach and I can’t help but curse myself under my breath. I should have said no. I should have stood my ground to keep my distance. Every time we have to get together it makes it harder to remember why we should be apart in the first place.

Why can’t I just say no to him?

The entire drive home is an escapade in testing my resolve.

I wonder whether or not I should I text Wade back, saying my dad isn’t there. Would he come over anyway? Surely he wouldn’t… Then again, would it be so wrong to have Dad meet someone who’s been a big part of my life? Besides, Wade’s sort of right. I could use another set of ears when I ask Dad about the house, the hauntings, and Abigail.

By the time I reach the manor, I’ve settled on letting Wade come over…as long as Dad is home. Nothing could go wrong there, right? Especially if I stick to the plan and get him out of the house after we find some answers.

When I open the front door, there’s nothing immediately evident, pointing me toward whether or not he’s home. The house remains as calm as ever.

“Dad?” I call out, glancing around the entryway. The large grandfather clock ticks loudly, punctuating the seconds that pass in silence.

Sighing to myself, I walk past the staircase and turn left, heading to my bedroom to drop off my backpack.

Just as I reach the door, I hear a voice call out, “Autumn? Is that you?”

I set my backpack on the floor inside the doorway and lean out into the hallway. “Dad?”

“Hey, sweetie. I thought I heard you,” Dad says, walking down the hallway from where I just came. “How have things been?”

“Thank god, you’re home,” I say, breathing a sigh of relief. “I was beginning to worry.”

“Why? Is everything okay?” he asks, his light eyes clouding with worry. For the first time, I notice just how tired he looks. Wherever he’s been has certainly taken a toll on him. There are deep bags under his eyes, like he hasn’t slept well in a while.

“I’m—uh, are you okay? You don’t look so well,” I say, stepping toward him.

He takes a step back, shaking his head and rubbing at his eyes. “Oh, yeah. Just a little jet-lagged. I have to adjust back to our time.”

“Where have you been? I mean, one day you were here, then you were gone for weeks. James said you were called away, but he didn’t know much else,” I say, tilting my head to the side.

“Yeah, that happens sometimes. I wish I could tell you more about it, but I’m not really allowed to…” he says, his gaze falling to the ground.

I chuckle softly. “Why? Do you work for the CIA or something?”

Dad’s eyes widen, but he takes a step back and laughs. “Definitely something. What are you up to now? Did you want to catch up a bit?” He nods back toward the entryway.

“Actually, I’d love to. Let me just put all of my school stuff away quick.”

“All right. Meet you in the sitting room. I love the light this time of day,” he says, grinning.

“Sounds good. I’ll be right there.” I nod.

Walking into my bedroom, I pull my phone from my pocket and stare at the blacked-out screen. Despite my hesitation, I tap on the screen, unlock the phone, and type Wade a quick message.

Dad’s home. We’ll be in the sitting room up front, so ring the doorbell when you’re here.

Shoving my phone back into my pocket, I walk out of my bedroom. When I reach the sitting room, Dad’s sitting on one of the couches, staring out at the front yard. From the large picture window, the most prominent feature is the large oak tree just outside. Near the ground, though, is a garden full of shrubbery, with flowers that have clearly passed their prime as fall approaches.

“I love this time of the year,” Dad grins, still staring out the window.

“I do, too. Fall’s my favorite.” I sit down on the love seat opposite him. Watching him for a moment, I can’t help but wonder if he’s doing okay. Something about him just seems a bit forlorn, but I’m not sure if we have the kind of relationship where I could call him on it.

“Dad,” I say, looking down at my hands. “Could I ask you something?”

His gaze drifts over to me. “What is it?”

I watch him for a moment, weighing what it is I really want to ask him. After a moment of internal debate, I say, “Has Abigail ever lashed out before?”

His eyebrows furrow and his expression softens. “How do you mean?”

“Like, has she ever broken a room full of lightbulbs…” I say, letting my voice drift off. “Or tried to hurt anyone?”

Surprise flashes through his eyes, but he recovers quickly. “Well, no…not that I can think of. But, then again, she’s never interacted with me much. I’ve never been able to truly communicate with her before.”

I nod absently. “That’s right, you can’t see her. But you sense her, right? Has she ever attacked you?”

Dad’s eyes narrow as he thinks. “Now that you mention it, there have been a few times where I felt constrained by a presence. Almost as if I was being bound or tied down. It usually happens right before I wake up, though, so I’ve always attributed it to a sleep paralysis. But, perhaps that was her?”

“Hmmm…” I say, biting my lower lip. “Do you think there are any other entities in this house? Anything that could want to do harm?”

“Has something happened?” Dad asks, standing up and taking a seat beside me.

I nod. “Well, yeah, actually. When you were gone, a friend of mine was attacked. He couldn’t breathe. It was like someone, or something,