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it.”

“Who in the world would want to do something like this?” I say, unable to hide the disgust in my voice. It just seems ludicrous to me.

“Someone with an agenda…and the power to pull it off,” Wade says, crossing his arms over his chest.

“Should we go to the police? I mean, tell them what happened to us in the cemetery the other day? Now that we know this part, maybe they can help?” I offer.

Wade looks doubtful as he places a curved hand over his mouth. “I dunno. I’m really torn about it. People already think I’m involved. If we go to the police, even the supernatural ones, will it just bring more suspicion? It says there, it’s a darker element of magic. What if there are laws against this sort of thing.”

“But you’re innocent. That has to stand for something, right?”

Wade sighs, running the back of his hand across my jawline. “And that’s why I love you so much. You really do think everything works out in the end.”

“You don’t?” I say, quirking an eyebrow.

“I want to,” he says, his eyebrows flicking upward. “I’m just more realistic than that. Good people get hurt. Bad people sometimes win. When you bring in the supernatural, I’d wager those odds go up.”

“Why do you say that?”

“Because power corrupts,” he says, casting me a knowing look and standing up. “Having abilities, no matter how slight, can give a person a superiority complex. Especially if they’re already a tad on the unstable side. Don’t you think?”

“Yeah, I guess.”

Wade looks up at the clock on the wall. “Lunch is nearly over. We better get moving. I don’t want to miss Powers and Technology. It’s been a good class so far. You coming?”

I nod, glancing quickly at the screen. “Yeah, I’ll be there in just a minute. I want to do a little more reading on revenants, and I’ll head out. Postmortem Communication isn’t far from here.”

Wade bends in, brushing his lips against mine. “Okay, meet you in an hour?”

“Sounds like a plan,” I say, grinning.

He saunters out, walking through the library like he owns the place. Despite all the craziness going on around him, he still has such magnetism and an air of confidence about him.

Running my hand along my neck, I twist around to face the computer. Hitting the back button, I click on the next two links. They have all the same information as the first one, with small variations.

The fourth link, however, goes into the details between the mindless undead and those with independent, cognizant thought. Revenants are controlled by an outside force. Liches on the other hand, can somehow retain their minds—even when the rest of them has been desiccated.

I shudder at the thought of skeletal remains wandering around, somehow retaining their ability to think and make decisions. The mindlessly controlled ones are scary enough.

Leaning back, I stare blankly at the screen.

Why would anyone want to raise the dead and turn them into revenants? So far, what have they accomplished, other than launching a local investigation and causing suspicion to be thrown around?

My eyes widen.

What if whoever has been raising the dead has deliberately sent the revenants to Wade? And if that’s true, why?

It doesn’t make any sense.

Taking a deep breath, I turn back to the computer. Abigail told me that if the dead weren’t found and laid to rest, worse things would follow. It’s pretty clear now, she meant they’d become revenants. So, my guess is, this sort of thing has happened before.

I tap my fingertips on the edge of the keyboard, thinking.

She also mentioned, I need to do some research on the house in order to get a better picture of what’s going on. Abigail and Warren were part of the founding of Windhaven but I’m not sure how it all ties back to Blackwood Manor.

Biting my lip, I put the cursor in the search bar and type Blackwood Manor. I fully expect for it to come up with a big fat nothing, especially after having to go to the county library to get more information last semester. However, that’s not the case. Nearly sixty results come back.

Scanning through them quickly, the majority of them are focusing on the house and its relationship to the energy of the town. Eyeing the time, I frown.

Do I race to Postmortem Communication? Or do I stay here and dig a little deeper?

“Ah, screw it. It’s one day,” I whisper, returning my gaze to the computer screen “Besides, this way, I can get more information out of Abigail later.”

I click on the first article, bending in to see exactly what kind of information a school would keep on my house. Of course, the piece is small, but talks about the house and its unique location. Evidently, people believe it was built on a vortex of energy—like a gateway that makes it easier to see and summon the dead.

Maybe that explains why my abilities didn’t present themselves until I was there? Clicking through the next few links, the majority of the articles talk about the house and the way it was a beacon for those with supernatural abilities. In a way, it served as a stake in the ground, giving silent permission to those with power to join forces.

From the moment Abigail and Warren broke ground, other families with abilities were drawn to Windhaven, building their homes nearby. The Gilberts and the Cranes—Dominic’s family—were the most notable.

Scanning the next page of results, one catches my eye and looks promising. I pull my seat in closer and give it a click.

August 26, 2005

Blackwood Manor’s Magical Memory

Written by: Alexander Dunham

Windhaven, Massachusetts, is known for its supernatural draw, thanks to the Windhaven Academy and its magical teachings. Every year, thousands of supernatural hopefuls enroll into the elite super-school, hoping to learn how to master their gifts and become an even stronger version of themselves. However, hidden in the woods of Windhaven is a manor with a magical history all its own. Yet its significance seems to have

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