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

by Carissa Andrews

  As if on instant replay, the aftermath of Liam’s accident comes into view from my own perspective. It’s like they’ve somehow managed to hijack the screen of my mind, as they play for all to see everything I’m seeing, thinking…and feeling.

  My sorrow is palpable, my love and anguish evident.

  “…She needs to pay. She needs to suffer the way she’s made Liam suffer—And so does the demon…”

  It ends with my final thoughts before being pulled into this very court. The silence that follows is almost as deafening as the one left in the wake of Liam’s death.

  As the screen vanishes, the High Court’s Throne Angel returns his glowing, wheeled gaze to me.

  “Does this explain things better, child?” he asks simply.

  The collective turn their heads to stare in my direction.

  Sighing in defeat and say, “Since he was a small boy.” My jaw sets and I cast my gaze out to the floor in front of me. There’s no escaping things now.

  “You’re saying you had a personal relationship with this human as far back as his childhood?” the Throne Angels says, for the first time, surprise is audible in his tone.

  “Yes,” I say, matter-of-factly.

  “How can this be?” he retorts.

  “Liam was special,” I begin. “That’s the only way to describe him. From a very young age, he could hear me. We could converse like you and I here in this very room. I didn’t mean for it to happen. But talking with him, guiding him… he was different. He’d listen and he wasn’t afraid. His soul—it was…beautiful.”

  “And this emboldened you to develop feelings for him?”

  I shrug, “I suppose. It opened a place in my heart I didn’t know I could feel for a charge. The veil of separation keeps us from having that kind of interaction. At least, normally. I’ve never had it happen before. But being able to interact with him—he made me feel special, too.”

  “So, you’re telling us all these years you’ve been operating against Section D?” The Throne Angel asks. Again, surprise laces his tone, and I can’t help but wonder if today was their first alert.

  “Sort of,” I say, “for the longest time, he shut me out. I figured it was the way his body had changed. Perhaps the biochemistry no longer allowed it. Or maybe he simply no longer wanted to. But today—” I press my lips tight and swallow hard.

  “Today?” the High Justice presses.

  “Today he asked for direct assistance. It allowed him to hear me again, and it opened up a space in my heart all over again. But more than that—it opened up a space in his.”

  A sea of gasps clutter the air.

  I shoot them all a sideways glance.

  “But that wasn’t all about me. It opened Liam up to communion with demons as well. He was too vague with his request. And it got him killed,” I say, fighting back tears. “I should have been there to protect him.”

  “Why were you not?” another Throne Angel directly behind the High Justice asks. A decorative hat adorned with jewels sits upon her head, and she clutches at the podium in front of her.

  “I was hunting an incubus,” I respond.

  “The incubus we just witnessed?” she asks.

  “Yes.”

  “Why were you hunting him?” the main Justice says.

  Biting my lower lip, I shake my head. “Because he was going to alert you to my affections to Liam.”

  Again, the room erupts in chatter.

  “You’re meaning to tell us you were hunting the demon to hide your secret and circumvent the Creed of Separation? Then, as we saw, you deliberately coalesced with him, bypassing the Creed of Distinction,” he says.

  “Yes.”

  The Throne Angel behind leans back into her chair, clutching her chest.

  Not a good sign, I’m sure.

  “This is unprecedented,” she mutters.

  “Indeed it is,” the High Justice says, nodding.

  “If it’s any consolation, it wasn’t Liam’s time. He was only—”

  “Guardian, who are you to declare when it’s a human’s time to move on?” the Throne Angel in the back says, standing up. “Are you privy to the tapestry of the known universe?”

  “Well, no. But—”

  “Then silence yourself,” she spits back.

  The High Justice stands up, placing his large hands across the edge of the podium. If this were under different circumstances, I’d say he almost looks apologetic.

  “Evangeline, the testimony from today is most disturbing—as I’m sure everyone in this room can agree. Our laws are set into motion to protect not only the humans, but us as well. They are not to be trifled with. Our dimensions cannot mesh together and if something were to happen—it could tear apart the entire fabric of the Universe. Even for something as noble as love,” he says.

  “I didn’t—”

  He holds up a hand, shaking his head. “Silence.”

  I cover my lips with my fingertips and nod.

  “It is the Judgement of this High Court that Evangeline will be sentenced to Purgatory until a more appropriate placement can be established,” he declares, releasing his magical gavel and slamming it against the desk. “This is a matter that far exceeds our Judgement and requires a more discerning eye.”

  His gavel slams down onto the podium. With that, my entire essence is removed from the courtroom at the speed of a freight train.

  Chapter 8

  When in Oblivion

  I land hard, dumped off in an area of dense trees and, as far as I can see, nothing else. There’s no warning, no good-bye. Nothing to cling to. Not even an idea of what to expect or how to prepare myself for life in Purgatory.

  “Thanks,” I say, unable to move.

  My Guardian’s outfit has been stripped from me, and instead, I’m clad in a soft, flowing dress with small flowers adorning the fabric. Frowning to myself, I pull myself to a stand and rub my bottom from the impact. I’m not used to such physicality, but I have a sneaking suspicion there’s more in store. There are tales about this dimension. Purgatory is a place of castaways. A place of total and utter inertia. And a place of lost souls.

  Taking a moment, I close my eyes, allowing the past few linear moments in time to wash away. Everything I fought to protect—everything I loved… it’s all gone.

  Liam’s…gone.

  How do I come to terms with all of this?

  Fighting back tears, I swallow hard and bite my lower lip to keep it from quivering. Forget hell. This could very possibly be worse.

  Eyeing the tree line, I keep my ears trained for anything that moves. There’s nothing in the immediate vicinity, thank goodness, but a few meters out, there’s a rustling of tree branches, and I can’t pinpoint what’s causing it.

  Crouching down, I plant my back firmly against a large tree’s trunk and open my hand to summon one of my weapons for protection. Instead of a sword or dagger appearing in my palm, absolutely nothing happens. There’s not even a fizzle of remaining magic.

  Ice-cold terror washes through my veins, and I can’t help but feel infinitely more vulnerable.

  “Come on, Eva—you might not have the magic, but you’re still a Guardian. You’re better than this,” I whisper to myself. “Stop being such a coward.”

  Pulling my shoulders back, I rise. Narrowing my eyes to the place of disruption, the trees and branches have all but gone still. Exhaling slowly, I pause. My gaze drops to my hands and I turn them over in front of me. No longer supple and soft, my skin is parched—dry and cracking like an elephant’s. I’m going to need to find shelter, food, and water.

  I drop my hands and take a step forward, shoving aside brush and low-hanging tree branches. The forest is thick with old growth, and it tugs at the fabric of my dress. Tall trees loom overhead with leaves the size of my entire head. They shroud the floor with a speckling of sunlight, from whatever star has managed to deliver its rays to this godforsaken place.

  Each step I take squishes against the soles of my bare feet
as the thick growth and spongy ground try to support my weight. It releases a pungent, earthy odor that reminds me of something I can’t quite put my finger on, but it’s almost peaceful.

  Off in the distance, a loud screech echoes through the trees, making my heart jump and my legs fold into a crouch. Something large—much larger than myself—crashes through the trees, and even though I can’t see it through the thicket, the vibrations on the ground are immense.

  My pulse thrums wildly, setting each nerve ending on notice to either run or protect myself at all costs. Swallowing hard, I get up again, pushing my way through the clawing branches as they tear at me and the fabric of my clothing. If there are creatures this way, there’s likely food and water. Maybe shelter, too, but I’ll have to be careful. Either way, I can’t stay in one place and do nothing. I don’t know the rules of this place yet and if it gets dark here the way it does on Earth… then I have the sneaking suspicion I don’t want to be caught out in it.

  Images of ghoulish beasts flash through my mind, and I shudder away the thought and force myself through another set of branches. They tug at my wavy black strands, making me wish I could tie my hair back. A small clearing opens up, and light streams into the space, illuminating the grassy knoll in a way I’ve never stopped to appreciate when I was flitting between realms.

  Too bad it’s taken banishment—maybe even imminent death—to see the beauty in it.

  Walking out in the open, I stand in the center of the small field. I tilt my chin to the sky and shield my eyes with my fingers. The orb is nearly identical to Earth’s sun—but the sky has a strange digital effect happening against an orange hue, instead of blue. Much like the sky at sunset or sunrise, but it’s midday based on the location of the sun, assuming the same physics apply.

  Behind me, tree branches snap, and I spin around with wide eyes. “Who’s there?” I say, my eyes wide in anticipation. Instinctively, I search the area around me for items I can use as weapons. Fallen trees, rocks, broken tree branches…

  “Look, I don’t have all day. Come out and show yourself,” I demand, clenching my jaw as I wait. Adrenaline courses through my veins, gearing me up for whatever is headed my way.

  Suddenly, a large deer crashes through the trees. Its coat and antlers blend in with the trees and I stumble backward in surprise. It runs up to me, its nostrils flaring and dark eyes wild. Holding my ground, I tip my chin and widen my stance. It comes to a halt inches from me, but as if it realizes I’m not worth its time, it simply snorts in my face and runs back into the woods at a ninety-degree angle.

  Relief washes over me, and I exhale the breath I didn’t realize was trapped in my throat.

  “That could have been worse,” I mutter, twisting around and following after it.

  The deer’s enormous body created a pathway of sorts through the dense trees and following after it seems like the only logical step. If for no other reason, its body could mean sustenance, if it comes to that.

  Clenching my jaw, I set out to follow after it. At first, the path is clear, but after awhile it becomes more chaotic, twisting one way only to backtrack on itself as the deer tries to lose me. As much as I have to admit it, I need to continue on my own.

  Without a clear destination—or anywhere familiar at all—my ultimate goal is to find shelter. But it’s pretty clear I won’t find it down on the ground fighting the vegetation. Setting my resolve, I study the trees, trying to find a sturdy-looking one I can climb. When I find one that fits the bill, I reach for the branches and start to pull myself upward. The bark of the tree crumbles under my touch, but the branches themselves are strong and sturdy. With each climb of upward momentum, a pungent, sweet smell meets my nostrils, and I try to pinpoint why it’s so familiar. But just like before, the memory eludes me.

  My palms and soles begin to tear with the sharp edges of the branches, but my arm and leg muscles ache hungrily under my exertion. I want to get to the top—to see what I’m really dealing with here. And without the ability to teleport or rise above it all with my innate angelic magic, this will have to do.

  Besides, being mortal-esque seems a fitting punishment in some ways.

  When I reach as high as I dare go, the top of the tree bows slightly under my weight. I wrap my right arm around the trunk and twist to face the horizon. With my left arm, I shield my eyes again from the sun’s bright rays.

  For as far as I can see, the trees continue on, covering the expanse in front of me. However, the terrain begins to get rocky to the east—or what I assume is the east—and to the west, sunlight sparkles against the watery haven of a lake. Somewhere in the back of my mind, the lake is familiar—like there’s something I should know about it but can’t quite put my finger on.

  Somewhere between the two, a billow of gray smoke caresses the skyline, and a shot of excitement and trepidation moves through me. Where there is smoke, there are others—others with the capability for fire. And fire means warmth, protection, and the ability to cook. My only hope is whoever it is, they’re friendly. Looks like I have my destination.

  “Alright, Eva. You wanted a sign and there it is,” I whisper to myself. “But you can’t go off halfcocked. You’ll need a weapon first—just in case.”

  Taking one final glance toward the smoke, I estimate it will be a good couple of hours away. Climbing back down, I keep my eyes trained on the direction I need to head. It’s farther away than I’d like, especially in this thick forest, but it’s still doable.

  As I reach the midway point of the tree, my sore palms slip on a branch. I tumble from my current location, hitting the next set of branches hard as I wrap my arms around them on the way down. Holding on for dear life, I close my eyes, allowing the shaking in my body to subside. When I have more control, I scoot myself closer to the trunk of the tree. My dress rips slightly as I throw a leg over the branch. Ignoring it, I have a seat with my back against the tree.

  “Maybe I should rest for… just a minute or two,” I say, exhaling.

  Being in mortal peril—fearing for my life—it’s a new sensation I don’t overly want to get used to. But I know I’ll have to. This is life now.

  When I’ve rested for as long as I dare, I begin my descent again, this time being more cautious as I reach from one branch to another. It takes longer, but within another ten minutes, my feet hit the solid, cushy ground.

  Bending down, I crouch into a ball and rest. Once my muscles and breathing have settled into some normalcy, I stand back up and straighten my shoulders.

  “All right, I need to keep my eye on the prize and not get lost in all of this,” I say, taking my first tentative steps toward the billows of smoke.

  I walk for a couple of hours, stopping only for moments to hunt for possible weapons and to verify I’m still on the right track toward the smoke. Two more times I climb up just high enough to spot the gray clouds and drop back down. As I get closer, the smell of smoke floods my senses, and I use it as my guide. Without a weapon of my choosing, I opt for a large stick with a scythe-like end. It will do in a pinch, should anything or anyone try to attack me.

  Finally, I reach a point through the trees where the source of the smoke becomes evident. A small stone ring on the ground encircles what I can only assume was a small campfire. However, there is no one beside it—no talking, no laughter, nothing at all.

  Who would start a fire and then leave it?

  I scan the trees, looking for any signs of life, but everything is as silent as a tomb. Slowly, I make my way forward, one tree at a time. At each stop, I hold still and silent, investigating the scene with apprehension and excitement. If someone is here—this could be good. Then again, if it’s a banished demon, they may not be of like-mind. Things could get ugly very, very quickly. Especially if they consider me a threat.

  I take another step forward, keeping my eyes trained on the campsite. Unfortunately, my step cracks a small twig on the ground, and I pull up short, holding my breath for any backlash.

  Birds call i
n the trees, scattering away from my location, but as far as I can see, nothing else happens. Not even a call back if there’s someone out here.

  “Now or never, Eva,” I whisper, nodding to myself.

  Keeping the scythe-stick at my side, I leave the shroud of the woods and step toward the fire. A makeshift campfire spit has been shifted to the side, along with a small stone slab, and a small animal carcass. Whoever was here was clearly eating and has the mental capabilities for tools.

  I crouch down, tugging at the carcass to see if anything worthy of eating remains. Only a few small bites cling to the bones and I rip the meat off, quickly shoving it into my mouth.

  “Ah, man… not you again,” a voice says over my shoulder. “Seriously, what did I do to keep getting thrown in your sphere? Dammit.”

  Spinning around, I come face-to-face with flashing turquoise eyes and an obnoxious face.

  “Oh, no… not you, too,” I spit, raising my stick toward the incubus.

  Chapter 9

  Twists of Fate

  “What are you doing here?” I demand, raising my scythe-stick out in front of me.

  “I’d like to ask you the same thing,” he says. “But you know, about me.”

  “I don’t know why you’re here. Shouldn’t you be off getting laid or something?” I spit back.

  The incubus sighs, rolling his eyes. “Don’t I wish.”

  “Is this your camp?” I say, dropping my stick and pointing to the fire ring.

  The incubus scrunches his face. “Do I look like the Grizzly Adams type?”

  “Well, if it’s not yours, whose is it?”

  “Hell if I know. I was following the scent of food. Kinda hoped whoever was cooking would trade food for a hand job,” he says, placing a hand on his hip.

  I roll my eyes. “Well, I was here first, so I claim the site for my own. You can go find another corner of the world to lurk in.”