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

by Carissa Andrews

  My heart thumps unevenly in my chest and begins to skitter off like a deer running from the sound of gunshots.

  What if something happened to him? I can’t lose him now—not after everything I’ve just learned.

  I sit down, closing my eyes as I try to use my abilities to find him. The familiar energy of accessing my gifts begins to rise up my spine, tingling along my neck and making the tiny hairs stand on end.

  At first, my mind circles around the cavern and tunnels leading in and out and around the area. Everything looks so familiar as I view all the places I’ve just been to. But I’m suddenly blocked by the big flashing Mnemosyne symbol as it blocks my mind from accessing anything related to Blake and his whereabouts.

  “Dammit” I spit, hitting the ground with my closed fists. “There has to be a way to find him—or contact him. He wouldn’t just disappear like this.”

  Raking my fingertips across my forehead, I can’t help but swallow back the arising hysteria.

  His cellphone—he had his cellphone on him.

  Blinking away my dread, I stand up and rush to the nearest tourist with a cellphone in their hand. The man stands back, taking a photo of the view from the Mount Parnassus and I tap his shoulder.

  “Excuse me? Do you speak English?” I ask, desperations bleeding into my words.

  The man nods, “Sure. I’m from Kentucky.”

  “Do you mind if I use your phone for a moment? I’ve lost a friend and I need to find him.”

  “Why don’t you use your own damn cellphone?” he asks, clutching the device close to his chest and giving me an indignant look.

  “Well, I would, but I don’t have one,” I say, biting back my inner bitch so I can get what I want.

  “You’re not one of those anti-technology freaks, are you?” the man says, eyeing me nervously.

  I throw my hands up in exasperation, “Ugh. I just need to find my friend. Can I have it or not?”

  The guy actually snorts in my face and walks away, muttering under his breath, “I ain’t a phone booth, bitch. Didn’t your momma teach you manners?”

  My jaw slacks open wide and I search for anyone else with a phone in their hand. A woman down slope has her cellphone out as she takes some photos of her kids against the backdrop of the skyline.

  Racing down to meet them, I skid to halt.

  “Excuse me,” I say, trying to catch my breath, “do you—do you speak English? I need to find a friend. I was wondering if I can use your phone to try and locate him. I’m getting worried something happened to him.”

  The woman and two kids turn to look at me. Their dark, heavy eyebrows kiss their hairline as they stare back at me in surprise.

  “Please?” I repeat, pointing at the phone.

  The woman looks down and nods—clearly not understanding anything else I’ve said but understanding what I need.

  “Thank you, thank you,” I repeat, walking a few steps away from the three of them.

  Taking a deep breath, I clutch the device in my hand. I stare down at it, trying to figure out how the hell to turn it back on.

  Dammit, I really should have figured these stupid things out by now.

  Blinking back tears, I start pressing every button on the sides of the black box. The woman walks up to me, gently resting a hand on my shoulder and pointing to the middle circle.

  Through her touch, I get glimpses of her life. She and her two children are here on vacation from Turkey and this is the first time they’ve been to Greece. Though I can—I don’t need to speak her language, because the energy binding us all is universal.

  I touch the button and the screen flashes to life. My body trembles, but I nod my head.

  “Thank you—er—teşekkür ederim,” I breathe.

  The woman presses something on the screen and the dial pad pops up.

  Taking a deep breath of relief, I freeze. I don’t know Blake’s number.

  “For fucksake,” I curse. “Can’t anything just go right?”

  Why didn’t we think of this? Why didn’t we have a plan in case we got separated? How idiotic are we? I don’t even know Aiden’s number—

  “Aiden—” I practically scream.

  The woman beside me steps back, surprised by my sudden outburst, but I can’t worry about that now. I need to connect with Aiden and lift his number somehow—or a way to reach him.

  Closing my eyes, I reach out to the universe, asking for guidance back to Aiden. I hone my senses so they narrow down all the information beginning to assault my awareness. A Helena telephone number raises into my perception and my fingertips instantly start dialing.

  The first attempt ends in a screeching sound, telling me I need to add a country code to dial out. A new, longer number flits in my mind and I redial.

  Clutching the phone, my fingertips dig into the sides of the metal and plastic as I wait in anticipation.

  Finally, the phone rings—a breakthrough in communication for me.

  “Hello?” Aiden’s voice fills my ear.

  Relief washes over me and I breathe out.

  “Aiden? It's Diana. Quick, have you heard from Blake? Or do you have his number?” I blurt everything out as quickly as possible.

  “Diana? Wha—what time is it?” Aiden says, his voice groggy sounding.

  “Oh my God, I'm so sorry. It's still the middle of the night over there,” I say, shaking my head.

  Aiden clears his throat, “It's okay. What did you need again?”

  “I can't find Blake. We split up for a bit and now I have no idea where he is. Stupid me, I didn't think to get his number in case of emergencies. Do you have it?”

  “Are you both okay?” Aiden says, alarm playing at the edge of his tone.

  “I'm fine, but I really need to find Blake. You haven't heard from him, have you?”

  “No, I haven't. Okay, you got a pen and paper? I’ll give you his number.”

  “I don't, but I'll remember it. Go ahead,” I say, eyeing the woman whose phone I'm borrowing as she edges a little closer. Impatience is starting to take root in her aura and I'm going to need to make this quick.

  Aiden rattles off the number and I curse myself for not having a pen. I really should write it down, just in case I can't pull the recall, thanks to Blake being a blind spot.

  “Thanks, Aiden. I gotta go.”

  A tiny protest echoes from the phone as I pull it away from my ear, but he's not my concern. I have to call Blake before this woman gets pissed.

  Hitting the red button, I turn to her and hold up my pointer finger.

  “One more call. I'll be super quick,” I say in Turkish.

  Her eyebrows scrunch in and she takes a step away, saying something to her kids as she jabs a thumb back my direction.

  As quickly as I can I dial the number again. Kicking up dust as I pace back and forth, I wait as the connection picks up and the line starts ringing.

  “C’mon, c’mon,” I mutter, clutching the phone tightly.

  The ringing stops and I cease pacing as I hold my breath.

  “Hi, this is Blake Wilson. Sorry, can't come to the phone right now, but feel free to tell my answering machine whatcha need. It can't keep a secret, so I'll find out about it eventually.”

  “Fuck,” I curse, waiting for the BEEP.

  As it sounds, I grip the phone close to my face and say, “Blake, so help me, you had better be okay. I’m sorry I wandered off—I didn’t mean to be gone so long. I’m by the cavern entrance. Please, please just come find me.”

  Pressing the off button, I turn sharply and start racing back to the cavern.

  The woman and her two kids chase after me, yelling something at my backside. Their arms are flailing in midair and their faces are red with anger as they point at the cellphone I still have gripped between my fingers.

  “Shit, I’m so sorry,” I say, stepping toward the woman handing it back to her. “Rahatsızlıktan dolayı özür dileriz. Hadi bakalım.”

  She snatches the cellphone back and
skins me alive with a look before throwing her arms around her kids and rushing away. They speak frantically in Turkish—clearly pissed.

  “I said I was sorry,” I call out after her.

  Well, that’s me scarring her and her kids for life. Way to go, Diana. They’re never gonna help another poor soul like me again.

  Taking a deep breath, I butt the palm of my hand to my forehead and turn back to the cave.

  Where in the hell would he be? Better yet, how the hell am I gonna find him?

  The tourist groupings have dwindled to only a small handful of people as the sun continues to set. Without the ability to reach out and find Blake with my abilities—I’m truly lost. We only have a few hours before the girls are moved and I don’t even know if Blake managed to get in touch with Interpol.

  What if he hasn’t? Holy crap, could this seriously get any worse?

  How am I meant to split my allegiances between saving the girls and finding Blake? Hell, for all I know, he needs saving too.

  I am so in over my head.

  I curse myself again for not having a backup plan with Blake in case we get separated.

  Christ, you’d think after all this time I wouldn’t be so dense.

  On the verge of hyperventilating, I hunch over, trying to slow my breathing. My fingertips dig into my scalp as I wrack my brain.

  There has to be a way to find him.

  A young man’s voice filters into my awareness as he says, “Yeah, Mom. We’re on our way back to the hotel. Seriously, you should have come out this way. You would have loved it. The Temple of Apollo is amazing. Plus, we hiked to this cave by the site—”

  I stand up, suddenly revitalized.

  Of course—I’m Diana freakin’ Hawthorne. I’m Apollo’s Oracle—or so I’ve recently come to understand—and even if I can’t get a read on Blake, I can get a read on everyone else.

  My eyes flit to the young man just a few feet away. Reaching out with my abilities, I search his recent memory for any signs of Blake to see if he may have seen what happened. I might not get a full idea, but perhaps snippets the way I was able to with Aiden. Unfortunately, it’s all clouded with make-out sessions with the redhead he’s standing next to.

  Immediately, I turn to the next person—an older gentleman with a broad, worn smile and kind eyes. He’s been here a while, but unfortunately, his eyesight isn’t very good, and he spend the majority of his time listening to his tour guide who’s been urging his group to start heading back to the tour bus.

  The tour guide hasn’t seen anything unusual—she’s been too hell bent on rounding up the stragglers, so she can meet up with her boyfriend for a romantic dinner in town.

  I switch from person to person, hunting for the information I’m looking for—but no one, not a single person witnessed anything about Blake I can use. Unless of course, I’m being completely blocked.

  “Dammit,” I whisper under my breath. “Okay, okay… there has to be something I’m missing. Or someone.”

  Trekking the last bit up to the cave’s opening, I walk inside and have a look around. A man and woman with one small child are all that remains inside. I take a seat on one of the stones resting at the entrance and close my eyes, allowing my senses to reach out and find their way to the man first.

  He’s enthralled with the geological formation and the way the cavern was created. Clearly someone with far less imagination than the others I’ve surveyed, as he doesn’t overly care about the sociology or history. His wife stands by his side, nodding her head and holding the young child’s hand. She acts engaged with whatever the man’s saying about the rock—but her mind is back at the hotel as she longs for a bath and a glass of wine—alone. She’s been the one chasing the three-year-old all day and all she wants in this whole wide world is for a few minutes to herself.

  Releasing a sigh, I open my eyes and bite my lip.

  Nothing. Not a damn thing.

  How is this even possible? How can a grown ass man just disappear?

  I roll my eyes. He could have been thinking the same thing about me. I wandered off into the—

  No… he wouldn’t have gone deeper into the cave without knowing where I was. Would he?

  Suddenly, I get flashes of a police car and a puppy—the name Chase comes to mind. It switches to a disjointed image of a mask and a cartoon-like cops and robbers imagery, but still with dogs. Something like Papatroll comes to the forefront but I have no idea what the hell that means.

  I sit up straighter, trying to find the source of where the images are coming from. My eyes rest on the little boy whose eyes are trained on the dark abyss leading deeper into the cavern. It’s freaking him right out.

  The images change again to a brightly colored water gun pointed at the middle of a man’s back. It switches to a man, with arms raised like the cops and robbers imagery as he gets edged toward the back of the cavern.

  The little boy shudders, remembering…

  “And just what do you think you’re doing here?” the man with the gun says. “Make a scene and you’re dead. Start walkin’— you’re comin’ with me.”

  The three-year-old’s parents are nearby, but they’re too busy talking to each other. The toddler hasn’t been allowed to do much of anything, so he’s been watching others closely and making up his own stories.

  Even though he’s much lower to the ground, I push myself to dig deeper into his mind, trying to parse out reality from whatever fiction he’s associated with what he saw. I never get a glimpse of the men’s faces, the little boy is too engrossed by the gun, but then I catch it—the clue I’m looking for: Blake’s signature ass. It’s at the perfect height for the little boy to take in fully as Blake gets shoved past him and pushed into the darkness beyond.

  My eyes pop open and I’m on my feet.

  Racing into the gaping entrance to the rest of the cavern, I pluck my small flashlight from my pocket and enter the pitch darkness. Pressing the button, the LED springs to life, illuminating the pathway ahead. At first the tunnel is wide and direct, but the further I jaunt, the more turned around I get. Tunnels and offshoots splay out in every direction—some larger, some extremely narrow—and without a good read on the man with the gun, I can’t hone in on Blake or where he’s been taken. And I sure as hell can’t go ask the boy for more details. I’m lucky I got what I did.

  My feet hit the dusty ground in rhythm with my heartbeat—rapidly.

  What if I can’t get to Blake in time? How long has it been?

  Would the man kill him?

  Could he already be dead?

  I pull up short in the middle of a larger opening, with five offshoots branching out in front of me. Clenching at my side, I shine the flashlight to the ground, searching for any signs of footsteps—or a clue to the direction Blake was taken.

  “Dammit—he’s gotta be here somewhere. But which one—” I curse aloud, raking my fingertips through my hair. “C’mon, Diana. Where did they go? Which direction?”

  I take a breath, trying calm myself and use my gifts. My tongue brushes my lower lip, as I close my eyes and concentrate. Instantly, I’m overcome with the sensation of dizziness and nausea as the Mnemosyne symbol flashes in my mind—still blocking any access to Blake himself.

  “Dammit,” I mutter, dropping to my knees.

  There’s still a way to find Blake, but it means losing everything—

  “This can’t be happening—it can’t be the only way.”

  The fingertips of my left hand press against my lips as I clutch the flashlight firmly with my right.

  My heart thumps unevenly as I weigh my really shitty options.

  I’ve waited for this day for longer than I can remember—the day where I knew I could finally grow old and die—and before I can even accept, it’s being pulled out from under me.

  What kind of sick joke is that?

  On the other hand, Blake’s insanely capable—what if he’s already managed to get out of the situation? Or used his background to overtak
e the asshole with the gun?

  I could be throwing it all away for nothing.

  I bite my lower lip.

  But what if he hasn’t?

  Is that a risk I’m willing to take?

  I shake my head, my nostrils flaring.

  What if he just needs a diversion—or a little help? What if by holding off, I get him or the girls killed?

  The musty odor of the cavern triggers the newly gifted memories from before and I can’t lose Anastasios’ soul again.

  Sighing in defeat, I know exactly what I have to do.

  Chapter 18

  RACING BACK TO THE VORTEX and the place where I carved Mnemosyne’s mark, I come to an awkward halt as I trip over my own two feet and slam my right shoulder against the cavern wall. My ripped skin aches, but it doesn’t matter—it will heal, and I’ll live on. I can’t say the same for Blake or the girls if I don’t take immediate action. I need to locate him and there’s only one way I can force it to happen.

  Rubbing my shoulder, I widen my stance and take a deep breath. Lifting my head high, I call out into the black abyss, desperation permeating every word.

  “What good are these gifts if I’m left blind and helpless when it really matters? Come on Apollo, or Mnemosyne, whoever it is I need to bow to or kiss ass. Give me something to work with. People are in danger here and I can’t sit on the sidelines,” I say, lowering my head and whispering, “I can’t lose him again.”

  I flare my nostrils and clench my fingers, curling them so tightly into my palms they begin to lose blood flow.

  One at a time, as if held up by invisible torches, purple flames burst from the walls. They cast an eerie light, not dissimilar from the Violet Flame invocation weeks before with Demetri. Stumbling backward, I cry out in surprise and the sound reverberates off the cavern walls.

  My senses are suddenly inundated with Mnemosyne’s trademark scent of jasmine and roses and I know she’s heard my beckoning and come to me.

  “What’s done cannot be undone without expressed permission, Pythia. You know this to be true. To unlock that which you seek—it requires a decision to be made. One which may only be made by you. Do you accept your immortality and responsibility in the aid of Apollo? Will you secure your role as the rightful Oracle of Delphi?”