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

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The Chronicles of the 8th Dimension - Limited Edition Box Set (4 Books): A Supernatural Thriller Box Set Page 47

by Carissa Andrews


  “What do you mean?” I say, pointing to the pews so we can all have a seat.

  Braham tips his head again in acknowledgment and leads the way to the front of the sanctuary. He stops before the painting of Jesus on the cross. After a moment, he points at the painting and turns around.

  “This whole thing happened, you know. I didn’t believe it before I went back. I figured it was just allegory, but it wasn’t. It happened just like it shows here, and I had to stand by, doing nothing. Do you know how painful that was?” he begins. “For him, especially, but for me to watch, too.”

  “I can only imagine,” I say, placing a hand on his shoulder.

  “It was horrifying. No one should ever have to go through something like that. I need to get him out of there,” Braham says.

  “Hang on a sec. If you were successful—if this whole thing happened, then doesn’t that mean we averted the apocalypse? Do we really want to dive back in and possibly fuck that up?” Thea says, narrowing her eyes.

  “No, I don’t mean mess it up,” Braham says. “I mean get him out—once everything is said and done. I know where they put his body, but he wasn’t dead yet; they just knew he’d die. But he could have been healed—at least, I think so. With the proper medical treatment, anyway. Not whatever rudimentary medicine they had back then.”

  “Why didn’t you just get him out?” Gabe asks.

  “I tried. For whatever reason, my gifts wouldn’t allow me to get inside the cave where they put his body,” Braham says, his forehead creasing. “It was like it was locked to me because I don’t have that gift—”

  “What makes you think going back will be any different?” Thea says, scratching at her temple.

  “I’ve had a long time to think about that, and I actually think I need you, Thea,” he says.

  “Uhm, what? Why me?” she says, looking around the room.

  “I saw what you did when the demons attacked the sanctuary. You managed to teleport yourself from one place to another. Sliding across time spatially,” Braham says, his eyes sparkling with excitement. “I think that’s what I need to get this done.”

  “How is that any different than what Gabe can do? Shouldn’t you take him?” Thea says, jabbing her thumb toward Gabe. “He’s got a helluva lot more experience than I do.”

  “I thought about that. But every time I’ve tried to go back in time, Gabe wasn’t able to go with me. For a while, I thought it was simply that my gifts only allowed me to go forward and backward in time, but as it turns out, that’s only part of the story.” He frowns and rubs his hand along the back of his neck. “Alone, I can only go backward and forward in time, but in the same space. At least, on the material plane. This place—the sanctuary—was different, obviously because it’s outside both. I needed to pick up on your energy signatures.”

  “What a minute…What are you saying?” Thea says, confusion painted across her face.

  “Without the aid of Gabe, I couldn’t move through space—only time. I think he’s the one who managed to slingshot me to where I needed to go. But I myself, can’t do that,” he says, frowning.

  “And what makes you think Thea will be any better?” I ask.

  “I don’t. I’m just hoping she can do her portal thing,” he says, desperation clinging to his voice. “If she can go back with me, then maybe she can get into the cave to get Jesus out.”

  Thea sighs dramatically. “I don’t know about this…”

  “Please, Thea. I can’t leave him there,” he says, grabbing hold of Thea’s forearms.

  “Thea, a minute ago, you wanted us to help Braham—do whatever we could to get him back. Now he’s here and asking for your help,” I say, trying to sound reasonable.

  “Shit. Okay, okay. Don’t get your man panties in a bunch. What do I need to do?” she says, shooting me a sideways glance.

  “Come back with me,” Braham says, dropping his arms.

  “Uh, no offense, but there has to be more to the plan than that. I don’t want to get stuck in the past without a way to get back. And I sure as Hades don’t want to wait a couple millennia to get back to the present,” she says. “Not to mention have to figure out how to make our way to or from the Middle East… I assume we need to get Gabe involved again. Am I right?”

  “Should we just get the time machine revved back up?” Mike offers, pointing back to the table. “It would only take me a couple of minutes.”

  Bea smiles, patting Mike on the shoulder.

  “We shouldn’t need it. I’ve become very proficient at what I do. But you’re right, Thea. We’ll need Gabe’s help. But as for getting stuck, I’m hoping what we do won’t change things overly. Now that I have a better idea of the energy signature for the sanctuary I should be—”

  “Let me help,” I blurt out.

  Everyone turns to look at me.

  “Hear me out,” I begin, raising my hands. “The wards on the sanctuary were placed by me, and I have inside knowledge on how the world will evolve with Jesus in it and how his story should end. Three days after his death, he rose again… or so the story goes. He stayed with his disciples for another forty days. If we can maintain the story by bringing him here, healing him, and bringing him back to finish what he needs to do—then we win. If I go back with the two of you, then I should be able to guide us all on how the account is meant to go.”

  Gabe inhales sharply, tugging at my arm to pull me aside.

  “Are you sure you want to do this?” he asks, concern arising in the depths of his blue eyes. “If you do get stuck, I won’t be able to go back to find you.”

  I sigh. “I am. I can’t explain it, Gabe. I think… I think it’s the only way they’ll make it back if they go on this mission. And I feel like this is all part of the bigger picture somehow. I know it sounds dumb and maybe a little bit vague, but I don’t know how else to explain it.”

  “How do you know he’ll be able to take you with him? You’ve never been able to veil-walk with me before,” he says.

  “I don’t. But…I think this time will be different. I feel different now,” I say.

  Conflict brews in the way he holds his shoulders and frowns, but he bends in and kisses me on the cheek.

  “You had better return to me. Do you hear me?” he says. “I cannot go through life without you. I would rather give myself over to the darkness.”

  “You have nothing to worry about,” I say, placing a hand alongside his face. “I feel it, Gabe—this is just as important somehow to the bigger picture. I’m meant to help with this.”

  “I trust you, Morgan. I always have,” he whispers.

  “I know,” I say, smiling softly. Standing on my tiptoes, I brush my lips against his.

  He groans softly as I release my kiss and turn back to Braham.

  All eyes are on us, but no one says a word at first.

  “Okay, so walk us through this. What do we need to do?” Thea says, trepidation hinting in her tone.

  Braham’s nostrils flare under his inhalation. “Like I said, we won’t need the machine, but we will need Gabe. His energy will get us to the site just like it did last time. My energy will guide us back in time. Then Thea helps while we’re there—and Morgan, hopefully, can bring us back.”

  “You don’t think you’ll need the extra boost from Mike or Bea?” Gabe asks.

  Braham shakes his head. “I don’t think I could have done it alone before, but after two millennia’s worth of practice, I think I have the basics under control now.”

  Thea’s eyes widen, and she shrugs in approval. “I suppose that’s the 10,000 hours of practice and then some.”

  Braham smiles. “You could definitely say that.”

  “So, Gabe, Bea, and I just hang out here, holding down the fort?” Mike says, putting his palms together and placing them between his knees.

  “Yea, sorry, man. If I thought you’d be necessary, I’d take you. But I can’t risk losing contact with Morgan and Thea. I only have two hands and I want to make sure
I use them both to hold onto them,” Braham says.

  “It’s cool. Those last few times made my stomach lurch, anyway. I get motion sickness pretty bad, and that definitely didn’t help,” Mike says, waving his hand in the air.

  “I appreciate it, Mike. Besides, it’s best if someone stays behind with Bea, too—I wouldn’t want her alone.”

  “Don’t you worry about me, Abraham. This old broad can handle herself,” Bea says, a look of consternation flitting across her face.

  “I didn’t mean—” Braham says, his eyes wide.

  She laughs him off. “Oh, behave. I’m just messing with you.”

  Braham exhales and shoots a glance around the room. “Everyone ready, then?”

  “Almost,” Gabe says, holding up a finger and turning to me. “Morgan, in case something goes wrong…”

  “Nothing will go wrong—” I begin.

  He presses his pointer finger to my lips, “But if it does, I want you to know how much I love you.”

  “Gabriel, you realize Morgan is angelic, don’t you?” Bea says, taking a sip of her tea.

  He blinks rapidly. “Is this true?”

  “I don’t know?” I say, shrugging. “Bea seems to think so, and I do feel so different. Ever since I opened up Braham’s mind and showed him what was coming… What’s it like to be an angel.”

  “It’s exactly like being human, only with clearer nudges,” he whispers, watching me closely. Suddenly, his lips crush down on mine and he entwines his fingers into my hair, pulling me closer.

  I sigh into his kiss, giving him all the love I can, just in case.

  After a moment, he pulls back, a dreamy gaze taking over his expression.

  “I love you, Morgan,” he says, his lips pressed against my ear.

  “I love you, too, Gabriel,” I whisper, kissing his cheek. “I’ll be back as soon as I can, my beautiful angel.”

  Braham swallows awkwardly, clasping his hands behind his back as he waits.

  I shift my gaze to him, then take Gabe’s hand in mine and walk toward Braham.

  “Thea, are you ready?” I ask, tipping my head to her.

  “Well, I don’t have anyone I want to suck face with, if that’s what you’re asking,” she says, quirking an eyebrow.

  Bea chuckles. “That was a good one, Anthea.”

  Thea tips her head, rolling her hand beside her temple in a mock bow.

  “Okay, Thea, you stand here,” Braham says, directing her to his right side. “Morgan, you’re over here, and Gabe should be on your other side.”

  He extends his left hand to me, and I accept his offering, still holding Gabe’s hand tightly.

  “Everyone ready?” Braham says, giving each of us a significant glance.

  “Not overly, but sure—go ahead,” Thea says, sucking in a big rush of air through her nose.

  Braham shoots Thea a gentle grin, and without another word, he closes his eyes. After a moment, he blows out a burst of air and relaxes his shoulders.

  “Okay, everyone. Think about going back in time to when Jesus was about to be crucified. Thea, just picture the painting over there. Gabe, focus on the location,” Braham instructs.

  “Got it,” he says.

  “Morgan, you focus on the story of Jesus, or whatever you think will best guide us there. Sound good?” he says.

  “Absolutely,” I say, taking a deep breath.

  “Great,” he says. “Let’s do it.”

  I barely have a moment to close my eyes before I feel my energy being sucked into a vortex. The whole thing is tumultuous and turbulent, and I do everything I can to simply hold onto Gabe’s hand as I try to remain calm.

  Somewhere in the back of my mind, I remember I’m supposed to be thinking about Jesus, his story, and getting us to the time before his crucifixion. I think about the paintings, about the location—all of it.

  Suddenly, Gabe’s hand is yanked from mine and I flail in the fluid waters of time, searching for his hand. Only it’s not there.

  I reach out, trying to find him, to make a connection with him, but I only feel more of the liquid suspension—and Braham’s hand anchored to my other hand.

  Pulling from his grasp, I land hard and my feet give out from under me. As I crumple under the weight of my landing, I reach out, searching for Gabe—for anyone— but my empty hands come up with fistfuls of sand.

  21

  Braham

  Surprisingly, Thea lands gracefully when we reach our destinations. Morgan, on the other hand, loses her grip on my hand just as the momentum drops us in place. She lands hard in the sand with a loud thud and rolls onto her side.

  “Are you okay, Morgan?” I ask, dropping Thea’s hand to rush over to her.

  Morgan swallows hard, her auburn hair strewn across the sand like a campfire. Slowly, she opens her eyes, wiping away the sand and dirt from her face.

  “Yes, I think so.” She bends forward and sits up. Looking around, she adds, “Gabe?”

  “I’m sorry Morgan, but he didn’t make it,” I say.

  Her face falters slightly, but her resolve hardens.

  “We knew it would happen. I guess I’d just hoped this time would be different. Let’s get this done as quickly as we can,” she says, standing up.

  “I’m in one hundred percent agreement with Morgan,” Thea says, wiping sweat from her brow with her forearm.

  “Come on, it’ll be this way,” I say, taking the lead.

  One good thing about all of these years alone with my abilities—my internal clock has now developed to pinpoint accuracy. And right now, it tells me we’re right on target—a couple of minutes off from Jesus being placed in the tomb. It should give us the time we need to get there and remove his body when they put the stone door in place.

  After a few minutes of walking, Thea announces, “Oh my god, it’s hot here. And I thought it was bad when we were stuck in traffic a couple of days—” She stops walking and blinks hard. “Oh, wow, it’s so weird to think a couple of days ago is two thousand plus years in the future. My brain is on overload.”

  “You get used to it after a while,” I say, shooting her a lopsided grin.

  “Well, here’s hoping I won’t have to ever do something like this again. I’m perfectly happy living in my own time, thanks very much,” Thea says, continuing her forward momentum.

  “That makes two of us,” Morgan agrees. “The sooner I can get back there, the better.”

  “Then let’s make this happen,” I say, continuing our journey to the cave’s entrance.

  When we’re within viewing distance of Jesus’s sepulcher, I take a seat on the ground.

  “It won’t be long now,” I say, crossing my legs.

  Morgan takes a seat beside me, sitting on her knees as she chews on her lower lip.

  “What is it, Morgan?” I finally say.

  “We need to be careful here. If Jesus isn’t put in the tomb, as much as I hate to admit it, we’ll want to wait a couple of days before gathering his body,” Morgan says.

  I snort, “We can’t wait days. He’s dying. We need to get him out now.”

  “The scripture, though. In the Bible, Jesus was known to have told his disciples he would rise again after three days. We can use that to our advantage,” she offers.

  “Morgan, I can make this happen at any time, but once he’s out and healed,” I say. “I’ll simply bring him back with me for a visit.”

  She blinks away her surprise. “You’re right. I forget this is something open to you. I’ve gotten so used to Gabe’s abilities.”

  “So, how long until they bring his body to the tomb?” Thea asks.

  “Not long. Fifteen minutes or so. You’ll want to be careful, Thea. They’ll have a guard standing by to keep people from stealing his body. Can you make the leap from here?” I ask, switching my gaze from her to the tomb’s entrance.

  “Is that the tomb there?” she asks.

  “It is, yes,” I say.

  “Well, let’s see what I can do
now while no one is about,” she says, pressing her lips into a thin line.

  Standing up and brushing off her jeans, she takes a deep breath and closes her eyes. Then she vanishes like a plug has been pulled and she’s been sucked right out of existence. My gaze shifts to the sepulcher and inside, she waves from the entrance.

  Both Morgan and I wave back just as she disappears again and reappears in front of us.

  “Well, that wasn’t so hard. I think I’m getting the hang of this thing,” Thea says proudly.

  “Now, when you take another person, do you need to be holding them, or simply touching them the way Gabe and Braham do?” Morgan asks.

  “I don’t know. I haven’t gotten that far,” Thea says, her previous pride evaporating as it’s replaced with a hint of terror.

  “Then you need to practice; we’re not far off,” I say.

  Off in the distance, Roman guards and Jesus’s friends—his disciples, as Morgan called them—carry Jesus’s body toward its final resting place.

  “We need to hurry. They’re coming,” I say, turning to Thea.

  “Well, geez. No pressure then,” she retorts.

  I grab hold of Thea’s upper arms, pulling her toward me. “Thea, I have the utmost faith in you to make this work.”

  Her eyes widen, and she nods, “Okay, well, let’s see what we can do. You can be my guinea pig.”

  I slide my hands into hers. “Whenever you’re ready.”

  Thea takes a deep breath through her nose and says, “Here goes nothing.”

  Before I have the sense to ground myself, I’m pulled through space and time, my insides contorting awkwardly in the strange energy and sensation of it. Thea’s abilities are so vastly different than my own, yet somehow very much the same. Like driving someone else’s car, I suppose.

  We reappear just to the other side of Morgan.

  “Whoa, that was really—” Morgan says, twisting around. “Looks like it works.”

  “Good. You can take me with you inside the sepulcher,” I say, relief flooding through me.

  “Sure thing, boss. Whatever can get us in and out as quickly as possible,” Thea says, smirking.

  “They’re almost there,” Morgan says, stepping forward to get a better look at the group bringing my son’s body to its final resting place.

 

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