The Chronicles of the 8th Dimension - Limited Edition Box Set (4 Books): A Supernatural Thriller Box Set

by Carissa Andrews

  Blake pulls out his cellphone again and points to the front door.

  “Diana, can you get Esther out to the Rover? I’m gonna call this in to the authorities so they can come collect this monster,” he says, turning his gaze to the man. If looks could kill, I’m pretty sure the man’s limp body was blazing in the seventh circle of hell for the eleventh time.

  Turning to Esther, I wrap my arm around her shoulder and usher her past Blake and her captor—toward the front door. Her little body tucks easily beside my own, as she continues to quake from the bizarre experience she’s just lived through. Her feelings begin to emerge—muddied at first, but clearer the further from Blake we are.

  She’s afraid of how her parents are going to react when they find out what she did. But at the same time, she’s so happy to be out of the scary closet—and happy she’s still got her puppy. Her mind plays at other memories—ones she doesn’t want to rehash, but still flash through her. Groping hands and violent slurs—

  “Come on, Esther. Let’s get you home,” I say, my shoulders releasing a bit of the tension I didn’t realize I was still lingering on to.

  I open the back door to the black Range Rover and she slides inside.

  “Do you need help with your seatbelt?” I ask, reaching for the buckle.

  She instantly scoffs and makes a face.

  “I’m not four,” she says, reaching for the belt and aptly clicking it into place.

  “Right,” I say nodding to myself.

  Clearly, my years of avoiding most human contact has me pretty clueless on the capabilities of an eight-year-old, compared to those younger.

  As I close the door, headlights flash in the distance and I instantly get the impression of two men coming to collect the girl. They’re talking about how pleased their boss will be because they’ve been trying to move on her for ages.

  A shiver creeps down my spine and I immediately race back to the house.

  “Blake—Blake, we have to leave,” I say, clutching the arm of his leather jacket and tugging him toward the door, “—now.”

  “Diana—I’m on a call with the PD. What in the hell are you—?”

  “See those headlights?” I say, pointing to the distance. “They’re significantly closer and if we don’t leave now, we’re gonna have a hell of a lot more trouble on our hands.”

  “Yeah, so?” he says, shaking his head.

  “They’re here for Esther,” I say, yanking him out the door. “Hang up the phone and let’s GO.”

  Blake doesn’t second guess me, thank God. He crams the cellphone into his coat pocket and we race together back to the Rover. As we slide into our seats, Blake starts up the vehicle in record time. The nondescript van pulls up beside us as we screech into reverse.

  It takes a moment for the new arrivals to realize what’s happening. As we hit the street, Blake spins the Rover around—slamming both myself and Esther against our doors as he makes his getaway. Shots are fired and flare off the backend of the vehicle. One bullet hits its target, shattering the back windshield into thousands of pieces.

  Esther’s high pitch screams flood the vehicle, as she grabs her head and tucks down. The puppy jumps at the opportunity to get free and scrambles off her lap to cower in the foot well.

  “Stay down,” I say to her, reaching around and holding her hand.

  She grabs on tight but does as she’s told.

  “Hang on,” Blake says again, turning a corner faster than he should. Up ahead, flashing lights can be seen, and Blake noticeably relaxes. “About goddamn time. Christ, what would we do if we really needed them? It’s been nearly five minutes since my damn call.”

  He drops his speed to a more manageable level and eases back into his seat.

  “Are you going to flag them? Let them know it’s us?” I ask.

  “Hell no,” Blake snickers. “They have bigger fish to fry.”

  “What about Esther?”

  “We’ll get her back to her parents. From there, we’ll let Ted and Lacy decide what happens next,” he says, releasing a sigh.

  I look back at Esther. She hasn’t moved since the glass shattered, but her left hand has begun to search for the puppy’s fur to stroke.

  “How are you holding up, Esther? I’m sure this has to be quite the night for you,” I say, trying to put on an air of indifference. I mean, honestly, do we need to freak her out any more than she already is?

  Her wide eyes meet mine, but she doesn’t respond.

  “How are you doing?” I ask, turning to Blake.

  His hands are firmly gripped around the steering wheel, but the hyper-focus he had going on is starting to dissipate.

  “I’ll be feeling a helluva lot better once those assho—sorry—jerks are apprehended,” he says, looking over his shoulder at the little girl.

  “Me too. Do you think they have them yet?” I ask.

  “Sure as hell hope so. I mean, we practically handed them all over on a silver platter,” Blake says, turning left toward town. The city lights begin to emerge and even I can’t help but relax a little bit.

  I release Esther’s hand and she picks up the puppy and clutches him close again. Twisting around in my seat, I look out the front windscreen and let my gaze soften. The passing lights begin to blur as my own body and senses begin to come back down from their heightened use.

  “Hope so, too,” I mutter.

  “What about you?” Blake asks.

  “What about me?”

  “Are you okay?” he says, turning to look at me briefly.

  “Yeah, I’m okay. A bit drained now.”

  “Well, good work back there,” he says, shrugging his right shoulder.

  I turn to look at him. “Did you just give me a compliment?”

  He shrugs again.

  “I give credit where credit is due,” he says.

  “Wow. Well, thanks, I guess,” I say, rolling my eyes. Despite myself, I can’t help but crack a smile.

  “No, seriously. I don’t know how you found her, but I’m glad you did.”

  “You know how I found her. You just don’t believe it’s possible.”

  Blake takes a moment to call Ted and Lacy—filling them in we’re on our way and asking them to call the police to meet us.

  We enter the full throes of the city, and I can’t help but wonder how things will change for Esther. What will Ted and Lacy do to keep her safe now? Will they go overboard and be overprotective? Or will they carry on with life as normal now that she’s back?

  “It’s not that I don’t believe, per se. It’s just—I find it highly improbable. Not to mention, a bit freaky,” he says, throwing me a sideways glance.

  “Freaky? Why? Do you have things to hide Blake?” I say, raising an eyebrow.

  “Don’t we all?” he snorts.

  I lean back in my seat.

  “Yeah, I guess.”

  “If you’re for real—doesn’t it get, I don’t know—weird or something? I mean, knowing things all the time, or whatever. How does it work, anyway?”

  I open my mouth to respond, but Esther leans forward and points to a house.

  “That one’s mine,” she says.

  “Yup. Been here before,” Blake says, winking over his shoulder as he maneuvers to Esther’s driveway.

  For a moment, none of us move. We sorta sit in the knowing we’re out of harm’s way and we did a good thing tonight. Behind us, the puppy yips.

  “What are you going to name her?” I ask.

  “Him. It’s a him, remember?” Esther says.

  I bite my lip and make a face.

  “Oh, right. Him.”

  “I don’t know yet. I was thinking maybe Fluffy. Or Spot,” she says.

  “Way to get creative, kid,” I chuckle.

  Before we have time to open our car doors, Lacy throws open the front door and races down the steps of their small two-story rambler. Ted follows close behind.

  Without hesitation, Esther opens the back door of the Range Rover and dr
ops into their open arms. Fluffy, or Spot, or whatever she’s gonna call the dog, because you know damn well they’re gonna let her keep him now, is squished between them. Both Blake and I follow but stand further back so the family can focus on Esther.

  Lacy wraps her arms around Esther, sobbing uncontrollably and Ted drops to his knees beside them.

  A squad car pulls up, its lights flashing, but siren turned off. Two officers step out, walking directly toward us. After what feels like forever filling him and his partner in—they’re finally satisfied enough to let us be on our way.

  “Ted, Lacy—we’re gonna let the three of you get settled for the night. I’ll be back in touch with you tomorrow to discuss everything. I’m sure the police will want to follow up and talk with you more tonight, anyway,” Blake says. “Sounds like they plan on keeping at least one officer here for the night, too.”

  Ted turns to the two of us and walks over.

  “Blake, Diana. I don’t know how to thank you enough. We would never have found her this quickly—or at all—if it wasn’t for you.”

  He holds his hand out in appreciation. Blake takes it first, shaking his hand vigorously and patting his shoulder.

  “Don’t mention it. We’re just glad she’s home,” Blake says.

  Ted turns to me and I fight the urge to leave his hand there. I quickly reach out, shaking it as well, and trying to avoid the feedback it might invoke. Instead, I get snippets of relief and joy—mixed with gratitude for having Aiden in his college English course. It’s how he and Blake became friends.

  “Glad things turned out the way they did,” I admit.

  “Yeah, makes two of us,” Blake agrees.

  Walking around the front of the vehicle, he opens his door. For a moment, he hovers there, one hand resting against the frame. Curiosity plays at my mind as I watch his eyes lingering on the front room window, half grinning to himself.

  Why do I suddenly wish my gifts were working on him? My whole known life I’ve wished I could shut it off, but now…

  “Ready?” I say, breaking the line of thought.

  “Yeah,” he nods, taking a seat.

  I open my door and slide inside. This whole day has been a weird juxtaposition of discombobulating circumstances since the moment I ran into Blake—literally. Not only did I start off on the wrong foot, but I’ve gone through a more unusual day than I can ever remember having. In part, thanks to him.

  “You did a good thing,” I say, turning my gaze back to the passing street lamps as he heads out.

  “No,” he says, shaking his head, “we did a good thing. As much as it pains me to admit it, there might be something to your psychic abilities.”

  “Oooh, the skeptic is turning?” I chuckle.

  He raises a hand, “No, I wouldn’t go quite that far…but I’m not willing to completely dismiss it yet, either.”

  “I feel so special,” I say, bringing my fists together and placing them beneath my chin.

  “You know what I mean. If you were in my position, would you believe you?”

  I lean forward, considering.

  Part of me would love to say hell yes, I’d believe me. Then again, I can’t trust most people on their best days, let alone if they were talking about something completely out of the box. Most people are lying, obnoxiously self-centered jerks.

  “I see your point,” I admit.

  “It would be negligence to simply believe in something without proof. It’s my job to question everything. I’ve found sometimes the smallest, most insignificant details can lead to the path of discovery. For myself. For my clients,” he says.

  “I take it you’re not a God-fearing kinda man, then,” I chuckle.

  “What makes you say that?” he asks, his eyebrows tugging in as he turns my direction.

  My mouth drops open slightly, and I scratch the top of my head.

  “Your skepticism I guess. What you said about believing something without proof,” I say. “Am I wrong? Guess it wouldn’t be the first time today.”

  “Yes and no,” Blake admits.

  “You confuse me.”

  Blake turns the Rover down my street, and instinctively, I place my hand on the handle of the door.

  “I take it you don’t easily confuse?”

  I chuckle. It’s like a weird ritual of round robin. Tit for tat.

  “What makes you say that,” I say, playing the part.

  “Well, if you are what you say—then confusion probably doesn’t land squarely in your court a whole lot. Then again, you could be really good at educated guesses,” he shrugs.

  “One may never know.”

  Blake pulls the vehicle into my single car driveway and I automatically open the door as we come to a stop.

  “Well, Blake—I wish I could say it was nice to meet you…but it’s been an odd day at best. Good luck getting the back windshield fixed. Thanks for the ride home.”

  Before he can say anything, I close the door and cross the front lawn. I’m halfway up the front steps when I’m pulled up short.

  “Hey—I, uh—have a good night,” Blake says, as I turn around. “I appreciate your help.”

  “You said that already,” I say, my eyebrow quirking.

  “Did I? Oh, well, night,” he says, stepping back and waving awkwardly goodbye.

  I stand on my front steps, watching him turn around and walk away.

  Even at this late hour—even after getting to know him a tiny bit—he still has a great ass.

  I sigh to myself and turn to the front door. With my keys in hand, the lock clicks open, and I walk inside; closing the door behind me.

  I’m not sure what it is about Blake—he makes me question myself.

  No—that’s not true. He makes me question my previous assumptions about people. It’s pretty obvious he’s a good guy—at least his heart’s in the right place. He’s still a jerk in his own way, though. Deliberately running into me, breaking into my house.

  Mental note: I gotta figure out how he did that. Kinda creepy.

  Probably should have asked him, Diana.

  I roll my eyes at myself.

  Flicking my keys onto the table in the entry way, I make my way to the refrigerator and grab the Mexican leftovers from last night’s meal. Until this moment, I didn’t realize how hungry I was. I suppose being damn near kidnapped the moment you get home will do that to a person.

  With lights low, I sit down at my dining room table and eat. My mind races through the evening’s events; through all that happened and all that coulda went wrong. I avoid any stress—or forcing my abilities to go anywhere they don’t want to go. As it is, my body is already heavy and ready for rest.

  If I didn’t have such an aversion to technology, this is where I’d pull out a smartphone or something and text Renaldo to have him cancel tomorrow’s appointments for me. If I’m up before noon, I’ll be surprised. Unfortunately, I don’t have one and likely never will.

  I reach for the ordinary landline wall phone that’s probably as old as this house. Dialing his number, I glance at the clock on the stove. 1:47am.

  Yikes. Brody’s gonna kill me.

  Fortunately, his voicemail picks up and I leave a quick message, “Hey Ren. It’s me—sorry to call so late, or early depending on how you look at it. Anyway, I’m not gonna be able to make it in to work today. I’ll explain later. If you can reschedule my list, I’d appreciate it. Talk to you in the morning. Bye.”

  With that said and done, I place my dishes beside the sink and go through my nightly routine—pee, floss, brush teeth, rinse and spit, slip outta the day’s clothes and into my tank top.

  I don’t bother with my lights, instead opting to wander the halls in darkness. Sliding into bed, I take a final breath, resting back into my pillow, and squirming around enough to get comfy. My eyes close and almost instantly, I’m drifting into the peaceful bliss of sleep.

  Before I can enjoy any of it—I’m pulled back to the Range Rover—to being shot at. Glass shattering. />
  As our vehicle speeds off, the two men haul ass inside. After seeing Ralph—the man who was holding Esther—tied up to the chair, they race to the hidden room, and find it raided. They know their time is limited, so they shoot him in the head and vacate the premises.

  My eyes pop open.

  Shit, the real bad guys got away.

  Chapter 6

  DESPITE THE REVELATION of the men getting away, I close my eyes and try to slip back into sleep. There’s nothing I can do about it, anyway—and besides, the cops should know by now. They were coming in right as we left. I’m sure they’re already on the hunt, trying to locate and apprehend them. The best thing I can do is stay out of their way before someone freaks out at my gifts again.

  Darkness consumes me, and I give in to its beckoning. For the longest time, I drift, quietly and peacefully through a multicolored mist—reenergizing; reconnecting to the source of all. After a while, the energy shifts, molding into something familiar, but distant—as though it’s a dream I’ve walked once before but have never recalled.

  Torches burn along the walls of a cavern—it leads somewhere important, but I can’t place why. My heart thumps against my chest, because I already know the outcome isn’t good. Somewhere within my soul the awareness seeps in—he’s gone—someone’s taken his energy and displaced it. Even though he means something to me—I don’t know who he is. Or why. All I know is I need to make this right—

  As I reach the end of the tunnel, light floods into the walkway from inside. Torches along the wall smoke and flicker, but within the chamber, is utter silence. Before I can cross the threshold into the main chamber, I notice a symbol along the wall. It looks like a cross between the more modern male and female symbols I’m used to—but not.

  I reach out to touch the symbol, drawn to the power emanating from it. As soon as my fingertips touch it, I’m thrust from the cavern and back into my bed.

  Knock, knock, knock, knock.

  My eyes flicker open, and I take in the streaming daylight cascading in from my bedroom windows. By the looks of things, it’s mid-afternoon.