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

  The Chronicles of the 8th Dimension

  Limited Edition Box Set

  Carissa Andrews

  Contents

  The Final Five

  Prologue

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Oracle

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Awakening

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Love is a Merciless God

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Also by Carissa Andrews

  The #1 International Bestselling YA Scifi / Fantasy Series

  About the Author

  The Final Five

  Prologue

  THE AWAKENING for me happened quickly. It also happened excruciatingly slow.

  After years of struggling, wondering what my purpose was—feeling like I was missing … something—everything suddenly became painfully clear. It was like the light switch had been flipped on and it was the cue I was waiting for.

  The human race is flawed—it has always been. Which is why we were all in need of being awakened, I suppose.

  We didn’t know it at the time, nor did we appreciate the gravity of it all. We were merely vessels lying in wait.

  It's funny how you can go your whole life questioning your worth, to suddenly find yourself not only with purpose, but on the precipice between good and evil. Or being the bridge between creation and destruction.

  I remember the first inklings, when in my mind, I began to realize I was different. The year was 1999—again, another precipice, I suppose.

  I was twenty-one and for the first time, I was awakening to my inner soul’s cries. I'd never felt fully comfortable with traditional organized religion, yet I still felt a spiritual calling. It was an ironic juxtaposition, to be sure. At least for a confused teen growing up in the heart of the United States.

  There was too much hypocrisy for my liking, and I couldn’t understand why so many people flocked to it. It was the camaraderie, I figured. Actually, there’s quite a bit of truth to that assessment.

  As part of my coursework for college, I'd found myself in a comparative religion class. Within the first day, I knew I'd learn more about humanity's spiritual similarities than I ever had in all my years in Catholic Sunday School. They were all, in one vein or another, cut from the same cloth—not vastly different and worthy of fighting over.

  Throughout the twelve week course, I studied everything from Christianity and it's variations, to Judaism, Islam, Buddhism, Hinduism, Satanism, and even Wicca. There were many more, but they were merely touching points in a tapestry woven to share the same message—regardless of the name its followers prescribed to.

  I'd often look at the faces of those in the class, wondering if they felt the same profound shift I did. Their blank, often bored expressions told me they were more asleep than they were awake. In more ways than one.

  My soul blossomed from there and I dived into embracing a side of myself I hadn't realized was missing … my inner love of the Goddess. Wicca became my voice for the injustice I saw in the world—and the hypocrisy inherent in modern religion. Mostly, for the unfortunate way women were treated. But in the way it led to the rise of avarice, power-hungry men, and their desires to exploit women, children, the poor—just about anyone really.

  Yet, as much as I turned my back on any relationship I had held with the divine masculine, I knew I was out of balance. One could not exist without the other. Each energy needed each other in tandem—the way a child craves the attention of both parents. It was the way I craved the attention of the divine.

  While Wicca isn't Goddess worship, excavating her story stole my attention for a while. I learned as much as I could; swallowing all of history, mythologies, and stories I could manage. I needed to make up for lost time.

  I studied Buddhist teachings, meditation, and how the present moment is central to pulling yourself out of a world of lack, anguish, and pain.

  Later that same year, I had another awakening. It was the year The Matrix came out. While many look at the movie as a classic now, at the time, many people didn't get it. Seems odd now, perhaps. Especially as technology has changed and evolved. It’s easier to see the correlations now. But at the time, computers were just making their impressive nature known. There were no smartphones. Websites were rudimentary at best. We had to wait minutes to dial into the internet and if you were connected, no one could use the telephone. It was torture.

  Yet, the concepts provided by the movie bewildered many who couldn't grasp the psychological nuances technology could bring to humanity. I remember being so surprised that at twenty-one, I was having to explain to my elders why The Matrix was so profound. Why it resonated. What it even meant. Why it should be a warning, or a wake-up call. Or at the very least a great philosophical discussion for those wanting to dive down the rabbit hole.

  To this day, it still gives me goosebumps as I relate to the subconsciousness undertones and possibilities of an existence it offers. Because they were true.

  In 2001, after moving back to my tiny hometown, I found myself drawn to healing work. I don’t remember exactly what caught my attention, but I remember stumbling on a local Reiki group. I didn't know what it was, or why it was calling to me. But I answered the call regardless.

  I somehow found my way into the next session of training and over the course of the next five years, I ultimately became a Reiki Master. It wasn’t to teach the lessons of this study. Nor did I want to earn money by providing the service to others. I simply wanted the knowledge and experience of it. This hands on healing technique became my doorway into all things energy work. To v
iewing the world in a metaphysical sense. It unlocked my energy retention and what I could do with it. It also opened my eyes both literally and metaphysically.

  I’ve never looked back. Now, years later, who would have thought it was the foundation laid by the universal energy, or the divine, so I’d be ready for this moment. So we’d all be ready when the time comes.

  I’ve been placed on a mission to find the remaining protectors for our upcoming war. Some call them angels. Regardless, they’re the ones still with sleep and stardust in their eyes who need to know what their purpose really is. It’s their job to take over now, because no one else can do it.

  But before I can send them on their path, I’m being tested. I need to find them—but I don’t know how.

  One thing’s for sure—big changes are coming and if I don’t locate the final five soon, it will be the end of all we know.

  1

  UNEARTHLY wails flood my consciousness, but I can’t place where—or when—they’re coming from. They echo inside me, through me, around me, and beyond me all at once and I can’t make them cease. A special kind of terror is unleashed—one only felt through ultimate desperation. The kind associated with destruction, annihilation, and oblivion.

  I try fiercely to give this awareness context—to find my source, or locate my body, but it’s not here—nothing is here. Instead, an endless, deep, black void is all there is. It’s swallowed me whole, permeating every cell I ever was; tearing it apart until the only thing left is a disembodied consciousness searching for meaning through fragments of reality.

  You wouldn’t think nothingness would be so bad—but trust me, no one should ever be aware of it. Energy once beautiful and potent has been reduced to less than ash—sent to an in-between place designated only for the truly worthless.

  This is where we will all be left … for eternity.

  Bolting upright in bed, sweat pools at the base of my spine and across my upper back. Wiping a shaky hand across my forehead, I clutch my night shirt with the other, trying to force my heart back inside my body.

  “Morgan?” Gabe’s voice is distant and drowsy, but his fingertips are warm and comforting as they circle the base of my spine.

  Inhaling deeply, I push away the dream’s remnants and try to regain my center.

  “Sorry, bad dream,” I whisper. “Go back to sleep. It’s okay.”

  I reach out, gently stroking his bare shoulder, trying to convince the both of us.

  He grabs my wrist, twisting to face me as he tugs my hand to his heart center. Even in the darkness of the room, I can feel his piercing gaze on me.

  “Don’t lie to me,” he whispers back. His radiant hands enclose mine, as he holds it tightly, trying to soothe it still—but my body won’t stop shaking.

  Blinking back tears, I bite my lip.

  “It’s coming, Gabe. It’s coming soon and I don’t know if—”

  He sits up in bed, reaching for the lamp and clicking it on. Warmth floods the room, washing a level of peace over me I didn’t realize I was missing. I should have. Only light can drive out darkness.

  His crisp blue eyes take me in—his pupils wide with worry.

  Taking a deep, deliberate breath, he cradles my jaw in his palm.

  “You’re the bridge. You knew this would happen—you knew the responsibility that comes with this.”

  Taking another deep breath, I let my shoulders relax somewhat. He’s right.

  We’re on the brink of planetary transformation; big, powerful, potent transformation. The thing is, it could go either way for humanity and I’m not quite sure how I feel about that. I’m a part of it, but kind of not. These dreams—they suggest something bigger. The darkness is coming for us all if something isn’t done. One big problem—the ones who can do something don’t even know the fate of the world rests with them. Not yet.

  Adding insult to injury—if survival can even happen, humanity will have to pull their heads out of their collective asses. The way things have been going, I’m not so certain they’ll be up to the task. Avarice is too wide spread, and ignorance is more than blinding.

  Regardless, the one thing I know for sure is if I don’t fulfill my purpose—to find the remaining protectors and soon—we can pretty much kiss this plane of existence goodbye.

  “What did you see this time? Was anything different?” Gabe asks, his voice angelic and soft.

  Shaking my head, I travel back to the dream.

  “No, just the empty, desperate nothingness. And the tortured cries,” I say, shuddering.

  “That’s good. It means nothing has changed yet. Remember, you’re being shown this as a reminder—nothing more. We need to know what’s at stake in order to fight for or against it.”

  “I know—I’m just afraid we’re not making progress. We’re still nowhere close to knowing who—or where the final five are.”

  It’s been years now—years since I was awakened to my calling—to this enormous hidden purpose burning inside me. To be one of the first was a weird privilege and extreme burden. Do you know what it’s like, knowing something so monumental it could alter the course of history, of life as we know it—and having utterly no one on the planet you can share it with?

  It sucks.

  Then, things started filtering in—my objectives, as it were. It was all snippets—little enlightenments. Spells I could cast, people I could touch with my awakened essence and it would rage through them like a storm. The light I was able to gift to each spread like wildfire once it reached its precipice. I was no longer in control of it—the energy did its own thing.

  Yet, I’m back where I started. On the hunt to fulfill my purpose. My final purpose.

  Finding the first of the protectors was a cake walk compared to this last group. Yet, without these final five—everything else will be for nothing. So, I continue onward, even though this task has been nothing short of futile.

  I don’t know where they are, or why they’re still hidden from me. Perhaps they’re not ready to know yet. Or perhaps it’s the Divine Will of the Universe.

  Whatever it is, something has to give soon. The urgency to locate them and get this ball rolling is building with intensity. These dreams are happening all too often and they’re growing in severity, as much as I hate to admit it.

  Being the bridge between the universal energy and humanity is a bizarre twist I didn’t see coming. Especially since I already know how this will end for me. When I’ve done my job—when the war comes, my part is over. I’ve foreseen the end for me. Well, assuming things work out the way they’re supposed to.

  See, that’s the funny thing about providence squaring off with free will. It’s a crap shoot of “who the hell knows?”

  Gabe watches me, remaining silent as I try to bring myself back into the here and now. His strong, energetic presence is more than I deserve at times—and others, it’s the only thing keeping me tethered to my mission.

  “When it’s time, things will move quickly. You know that, right?” he says.

  “I know—it’s just all this waiting that does my head in,” I say, kicking off the covers and walking over to my small table on the other side of the bedroom.

  Even with this looming above my head, I know I can’t lay in wait—hoping for the remaining protectors to miraculously find me. Or wishing things would end some other way. My very DNA has been encoded with this purpose and if I don’t follow through, the end will turn out much worse anyway. I need to act on their behalf, follow through, and get them on their path because this raging darkness is coming for us all.

  Sitting down at the table, I reach for my tarot deck and shuffle.

  I need to get outta my own head and into a clearer space.

  Flipping over the cards, one at a time, I begin to pull in their meanings and message.

  My eyes linger on the final card—the Magician.

  There it is again.

  For weeks now, the cards have been telling me I need to find the magician; an oracle, of sorts.
Of course, any details on this “magician” has been as elusive as the protectors. Scrying isn’t working and I’m afraid I’m meant to be doing more—but for the life of me, I don’t know what. It’s like the whole universe has come to a screeching halt regarding messages and mission. Ordinarily, I’ve had more to go on. The urge is simply to “do something.”

  It’s infuriating.

  I’d hoped by now the universal energy—God, Goddess—whatever you want to call it—would have guided me to my next step by now. But that’s the funny thing about being an agent of the universe—you’re not on your timeline, you’re outside time all together. Spoiler alert—this makes for a complicated, messy engagement when you’re still bound to this fleshy existence.

  I stand up, pushing away from the table and take a look around at the dimly lit room.

  Gabe quietly lights candles all around the small overhang space we use as our bedroom in this tiny, derelict church. Daylight isn’t yet rousing, but its tendrils threaten to pull out the natural mystery and beauty of the stained-glass. The potent scents of frankincense and myrrh aren’t unfamiliar to this building, but I’m sure the former tenants would be rolling in their graves if they knew how it was being used now. The irony of it all still gives me goosebumps when I think about it.