Love, Greater Than Infinity (Book 1: New Adult Romance)

by Avondale, Cora

  “Yeah, let’s do this.”

  Teddy watched Lou pass through the solid metal door.

  Yeah, let’s do this… Teddy repeated in his thoughts. Then, he inhaled and followed Lou. Suddenly, Teddy felt his energy being ripped through the mortal portal and slammed to the left, then to the right, as his entire being was sucked through the dimensions at warp speed before jolting to a sudden stop on the other side of the door.

  Teddy shook off the dimension jetlag, and glanced around. He was getting used to traveling at the speed of light across the dimensions only to arrive on the other side of the mortal portal he had entered. Suddenly, the smell hit him. He covered his face with his sleeve. What he hadn’t gotten used to was the smell. Whoa…that smell. Musty, stale, moldy—fumes of eternity. He squinted up at the cheap florescent lighting, which made the windowless walls seem like they were shrinking inward.

  Then, a frosty voice peeled out across the drab, claustrophobic basement of the warehouse basement. It made him shiver.

  “A4,” it echoed into a microphone.

  Teddy turned to survey the crowded card tables as each of the players—all hunched forward in their folding chairs—scanned their bingo cards and searched for a match. After centuries of exemplary guardianship over their mortals, keepers ascend into the final dimensions, a repository of higher wisdom and consciousness, where they deliberate as members of the Dimension Council and reap the joys of playing bingo for eternity.

  There was a stage positioned at the front of the basement. There, Spinster Throne eyed Teddy in the doorway. Teddy glared at her, then glanced away. She was a crispy emaciated hag with a taut face, willow neck, and sharp shoulders. She sat perched like a crippled vulture on her stool, positioned on the edge of the stage, and she dominated the room with her reverberating microphone and churning indomitable bingo cage. The cage was a sparkling mesh of gold. Its mother-of-pearl handle allowed Spinster Throne to rotate the depository of sacred bingo balls—a shuffling roulette of fate and chance. Her limp fingertips always rested on the iridescent handle, even after the gilded cage tumbled into its final rotation. The Council members halted their chatter as Spinster Throne’s assistant, an obsequious Council member with a gimp leg, retrieved the next precious bingo ball. Gimpy handed Spinster Throne the draw.

  “C8,” Spinster Throne diplomatically announced into the microphone.

  “BINGO!” blurted out a Council member with yippy impatience.

  “That’s impossible,” contested a bellicose member from the bowels of the basement. “There’s only been four draws called.”

  “Five,” corrected his neighbor, turning up her nose with snotty omniscience. “But it’s highly unlikely she’s got it already.”

  Spinster Throne motioned for the card to be brought forward to the stage. The room hushed with silence as Spinster Throne gazed down her spectacles, and scrutinized the winning claim. Finally, she dismissed the card with a negative shake.

  “It is my determination,” Spinster Throne pronounced into the microphone, “that there is no B-I-N-G-O.”

  The Dimension Council rallied in alternating cheers. The discredited winner withered into the background like a dethroned queen in an octogenarian beauty pageant.

  “A-eleven, not A-seven, Mrs. Albright,” confirmed Spinster Throne with a definitive glance at the official score board, upon which the winning number and letters were promptly etched onto a massive dry erase board, faithfully maintained by Gimpy.

  “That’s what you get when you play with Niners,” a member called out with snide conviction. “A bunch of cheaters.”

  There was a volcanic eruption throughout the entire basement.

  “Well, at least the Niners don’t whine like cry-babies every time they lose to a member of a lower dimension!” an Eighter snapped back.

  Vitriolic spittle suddenly flung in all directions.

  “Enough,” Spinster Throne demanded, settling the room with her booming microphone and imperialist certainty. “This game shall continue,” she cautioned. “But first…we must conduct Council Trial.”

  “Ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh, draattttttt,” Council members moaned and crossed their arms with sour dissatisfaction.

  That was Lou’s cue. Spinster Throne gestured to Lou, who escorted Teddy onto the stage and turned him towards the crowd. Teddy was doomed to face “The Wrath of the Geriatrics”—alone and head-on.

  “Good luck, kid,” Lou whispered as he abandoned Teddy with a slap on the back. Teddy shielded his eyes from the blinding, accusatory stage lights.

  “He’s guilty!” a Council member cried out.

  “I second that,” said a feisty voice. “Now, draw the next number!”

  “Yeah, let’s at least finish the game, and then hold trial,” rejoined a third member.

  “Order in the Council,” Spinster Throne commanded with her frosty voice into the microphone. “I shall have order.”

  Council members traded grumbles as Gimpy unrolled the official trial summons and passed it to Spinster Throne.

  “We hereby bring Teddy Mulligan before the Dimension Council,” Spinster Throne recited, reading the charges from the scrolled parchment paper, “assigned as third dimension keeper of Miss Gracie Harris. Mr. Mulligan, are you aware of the charges brought forth against you here today?”

  “I can only imagine,” Teddy murmured. His Fate resided in the hands of bitter bingo addicts. He was having trouble coming up with a worse nightmare.

  “I beg your pardon, Mr. Mulligan?”

  “No, Your Highest…”

  Spinster Throne eyed Teddy with caution before passing the trial proclamation back to Gimpy. “Please recite the charges brought forth against, Mr. Mulligan,” she instructed.

  It was Gimpy’s big moment. He cleared his throat and swallowed deep, bellowing out the charges of the decree.

  “Unlawful intervention in the first and second degrees. Felonious alteration of the Destiny of said mortal. Misdemeanor alteration of the Destinies of one thousand four hundred and fifty-five mortals vacationing at the Hawaiian hotel. Destruction of mortal property. Stealing from a pawn shop. Unauthorized transportation to the lower dimensions—”

  “That’s enough,” Spinster Throne interjected. Her disapproval stretched tight over her sharp cheekbones. “Mr. Mulligan, what say you to these charges?”

  “I say they sound pretty bad when you word them like that.”

  The Council members jostled their bingo cards and rustled in their seats.

  “Mr. Mulligan, do you deny the charges, yea or nay?” Spinster Throne insisted.

  “The sapphire ring was Gracie’s to begin with. It was stolen from her. I was just returning something that was rightfully hers—”

  “You crossed over into the spatial world in order to acquire the ring, did you not?” Spinster Throne interrogated. “Additionally, you set off the hotel fire alarm of the Grand Maui Resort. You initiated the pumping system of four fire sprinklers, creating water damage to three hotel floors totaling two million dollars in property damage. Subsequently, your assignment was prematurely brought face-to-face with her husband and his mistress, which prematurely altered your assignment’s Destiny. Need I also mention the damage you caused to those twenty butterfly nets?”

  “Well, you didn’t have to mention it,” Teddy uttered with resentment.

  Apparently, Sprinter Throne was a knife-twister.

  “Mr. Mulligan, it seems that you have blatantly chosen to disregard your oath to the Dimension Council,” Spinster Throne threw a glance back to a long dusty tapestry, hanging behind her, embroidered with gilded lettering and faded with age.

  The canon of universal laws of the Dimension council

  Code 1: A keeper may not fall in love with his assignment

  Code 2: A keeper may not interfere with predetermined events

  Code 3: A keeper must honor the mandates of the dimension council

  Code 4: A keeper may not prematurely abandon her assignment

 
; Code 5: A keeper must assist in the fulfillment of his assignment’s destiny

  Code 6: A keeper may not hinder his Assignment ’s free will

  Code 7: A keeper must respect the intrinsic disorder and discord within the universe

  Code 8: A keeper may interact with the lower dimensions to facilitate predetermined events

  Code 9: A keeper may not destroy property in the lower dimensions

  Code 10: A keeper may not initiate chaos within the universe

  Code 11: A keeper may give and receive assistance from his fellow keepers

  Code 12: A keeper may offer comfort and solace to his assignment

  Code 13: A keeper may not pass into the lower dimensions without consent from the dimension council

  Code 14: A keeper may not alter the consequences of predetermined events

  Code 15: A keeper must uphold the canon of the dimension council for eternity

  “Mr. Mulligan,” Spinster Throne baited Teddy. “Not only have you disregarded your Canon Oath, but Gracie Harris was entrusted into your tutelage, and you have permanently altered her Destiny.”

  Teddy glared at the Canon Oath, then glared at Spinster Throne. The injustice of it all finally broke him.

  “Good—” he asserted with defiance, “because that Destiny was crap.”

  The Council members hissed and booed, and Teddy covered his face, expecting to be pelted with stale donuts any minute.

  “Mr. Mulligan,” Spinster Throne seethed into the microphone. “I will not tolerate such impudence in my court.”

  Teddy pushed back. “A Destiny of marriage to a man who doesn’t love her? What kind of a Destiny is that? Gracie deserves better than that.”

  The Council members booed again. Spinster Throne eyed Teddy.

  “Miss Harris’s Destiny was carefully planned out, I assure you. The Council merely puts mortal’s Destiny into motion. We cannot force certain conduct or choices to be made within the course of a mortal’s Destiny. That is left up to the mortal’s Free Will. Our hope was that Mr. Ellington would become a better man, and that Miss Harris would indeed find happiness. And that is still our hope.”

  “To keep them together?”

  “She was happy, Mr. Mulligan, until you interfered…”

  “She thought she was happy,” Teddy corrected her. “But she was living a lie.”

  “Following one’s Destiny, Mr. Mulligan, is a crucial part of happiness,” stressed Spinster Throne. “And your disruption of that Destiny is what resulted in her unhappiness.”

  “He’s wasting our time,” a temperamental Council member yelled out.

  “We’ve given him a second chance before,” acknowledged a member in the front row.

  “Yes, this is not the first time you have challenged the Council and their predeterminations,” agreed Spinster Throne. “You have been summoned before the Council on similar charges of interference. Causing bodily harm to a mortal before his time…. if I remember correctly?”

  “Prick-boy Patterson deserved to have his pelvis permanently broken.”

  “Mr. Mulligan, your sense of renegade justice cannot be tolerated.”

  “Well, then… stop making life so damn hard all the time.”

  “Mr. Mulligan, I will not tolerate your repeated defiance of this Council,” Spinster Throne warned with stern conviction. “No mortal is above hardship.”

  “Yeah, well, you already took away Gracie’s father. That’s enough growing pains for one lifetime, don’t you think?”

  “Enough—” Spinster Throne silenced him with a glare. “We have given you a second chance to prove yourself as a third dimension keeper, and you have repeatedly failed.” She skipped a beat. “For this reason, I hereby move to withdraw Teddy Mulligan from his assignment, Gracie Harris.”

  “Wait…wait,” Teddy cried out. “She’ll be without a keeper. Gracie will be without anyone watching over her.”

  “Temporarily, yes,” Spinster Throne acknowledged.

  “That’s worse—having no keeper at all. You know that…”

  “At this point, Mr. Mulligan, we feel that Miss Harris is better off with no keeper until we can assign her a more suitable replacement.”

  “But wait—” Teddy pleaded. “Gracie doesn’t deserve to be punished for my screw-ups.”

  “She will be assigned a new keeper,” Spinster Throne stressed.

  “When? Who?” Teddy called out directly to the Council members. “If you want to replace me, fine then… replace me. But name a replacement now, not five days or five weeks, or five years from now. Look at Gracie’s mother. She’s been without a new keeper for ten years, and the Council still hasn’t assigned a new keeper to replace the one who abandoned her. I’ve seen mortals without keepers, and I’ve never seen a single one who’s been better off. Gracie doesn’t deserve to be without someone. She doesn’t deserve to be alone—”

  “Mr. Mulligan,” Spinster Throne interrupted. “Assigning a new keeper to Gracie Harris, especially in the middle of her life, requires assiduous care and consideration by the Council. We shall deliberate upon the issue as we see fit.”

  “No—now,” Teddy demanded. “Now. She needs someone now. She’s in Chicago without a job. She needs someone to help her find a job, and clean up her apartment, and set up a new bank account. She’s just left her husband and she’s alone. She has nothing, no one. Either replace me or keep me on until you find a replacement, but don’t leave her alone.”

  “He’s in love with the girl,” a haunting voice rose out of the disgruntled crowd. “It’s obvious. He’s in love with her.”

  There was a dramatic lull from the Council, as if resuming bingo suddenly took a back seat to the unexpected matinee melodrama. Even Spinster Throne was caught off-guard. The room suddenly fell silent as everyone leaned in from their chairs and turned their better ears towards the stage.

  “Are you in love with your assignment?” Spinster Throne suddenly asked.

  Teddy looked away, far out into the bleakness. There was only eternal silence.

  “You do realize,” Spinster Throne treaded carefully, “that falling in love with the mortal you’ve been assigned to protect is a felony under the Cannon of Codes and Ethics of the Dimension Council?”

  “Yes,” Teddy answered. There was no fighting it.

  Spinster Throne’s decaying lips pierced together with severity. “Mr. Mulligan… falling in love with your mortal displays an egregious lack of objectivity. Falling in love with your mortal means you care more about her than you do about preserving her Destiny. This cannot be tolerated.”

  “Teddy lowered his head. “Then punish me, not her.”

  “Told you so… he’s in love with the girl,” the haunting voice ascended from the crowd.

  The Council members all laughed. Spinster Throne acknowledged their amusement. Then, she squinted down at Teddy, as if her vulture eyes were peering deep into his being, surveying the honesty of its core. She straightened her curled posture and adjusted her balance on her stool.

  “Very well,” Spinster Throne conceded slowly. “I hereby rule that Teddy Mulligan shall stay on temporarily as Gracie Harris’s keeper, but only on one condition—”

  Spinster Throne’s acerbic tone turned higher with a hint of irony as she considered the best way to deal with a recalcitrant, troublemaking keeper. “You must assist in finding Gracie Harris her soul mate.”

  Teddy peered at her. She peered back. Spinster Throne was a shrew.

  Her sentence incited a swell of rippling whoooooooooooooaaaaas from the crowd. Clearly, the Dimension Council had a twisted sense of humor.

  “Since you are so very concerned, Mr. Mulligan,” Spinster Throne continued, “that Miss Harris must be paired with a mortal who truly loves her and who she loves in return, then you must now ensure that she falls in love with such a man.”

  Spinster Throne was enjoying every minute of her merciless brilliance.

  “Facilitating the new courtship of Gracie Harris will no
t only correct her Destiny, a Destiny of love and happiness that the Council always intended for Miss Harris, but it will also prove your impartiality. If Gracie Harris finds her soul mate, you will have successfully completed your duty as her keeper, and Gracie Harris will no longer be alone, as you so fear. And you will be reassigned duties more befitting of your rebellious proclivities. However, if you are not successful, Mr. Mulligan,” she paused, her warning echoing through the basement, “and Gracie Harris does not find her soul mate, then the Council will have no choice but to permanently revoke your post as Gracie’s keeper, and a new keeper shall be assigned—at our leisure.”

  The Council members simmered with excitement and drummed their empty coffee cups on the card tables to display their acceptance of the deliberation. Before long, the hard-core gamblers in the crowd asserted the odds of Teddy’s success and failure, and began taking bets. Spinster Throne seemed satisfied. Teddy, on the other hand, felt himself drowning on the inside.

  “And take heed, Mr. Mulligan. I’m only allowing you thirty mortal days to complete your mission. Otherwise, I will personally revoke your assignment as Miss Harris’ keeper and her Destiny will be out of your hands—once and for all. Do I make myself clear?”

  “Thirty days? That’s impossible and you know it—”

  “I beg your pardon?”

  “I mean… Yes, Your Highness,” Teddy grumbled with certain hatred for the entire universe.

  “Mr. Castellini? Have you been paying attention to this melodrama?” Spinster Throne suddenly called into the basement corner.

  “Yes… unfortunately, yes… Your Highness,” Lou answered, slinking out of the shadows.

  “Well good, because I’m assigning you to watch over Mr. Mulligan in addition to your regular duties as Luke Ellington’s keeper.”

  Lou almost choked. “Excuse me?”

  “You’re up for a review soon for a dimension promotion, are you not, Mr. Castellini?”

  “Yes, but—”

  “But nothing. You shall oversee Teddy Mulligan’s progress and report back to the Council. And Mr. Castellini? I am holding you directly responsible for Teddy Mulligan’s success or failure. Do you understand?