P.N.E. (The Wolfblood Prophecies Book 4) (2 page)

HEARTS ON THE GROUND

When I started writing
The Wolfblood Prophecies
, I   knew nothing about the Lakota tribe other than their name, which I thought was beautiful. As I wrote I began to find out more. I have had the privilege of working with Romany Gypsies in Somerset and found the two groups had much in common, particularly a deep sense of family and love of their children. And persecution.

              Please take time to watch
Hearts on the Ground
, a short film about the 750 Lakota children taken every year from their families by South Dakota’s Department of Social Security. The children are placed in foster care, separated not only from their families but also their culture.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=jEsz7z74oqM

http://lakotalaw.org/action

Please also sign the petition at

http://lakotalaw.org/moveon-petition-text

Chapter One - New Year’s Day

The wedding party was in full swing. Old friends chattered happily, sharing jokes and memories about the bride and groom, so long separated, but at last, together forever. Matthew Jamieson and Mary Montgomery knew the clock was ticking on their joy, but today they laughed in the face of the darkness to come, and danced the shadows away.

Jo Lakota willed herself to do the same, but the effort was enormous. She caught Mary’s gimlet eye scrutinising her, ready to fend off any over-solicitous enquiries.

I’m OK, Mary
emped Jo.
Just relax and enjoy your day!

Why didn’t you bring that nice young man of yours along? Morten, isn’t it? You need something to take your mind off it all.

He’s not my young man
objected Jo indignantly.

Mary laughed sardonically then was swept away by Matthew, now almost fully recovered, not only from recent surgery, but the long ago loss of family and love that had almost broken him.

Prompted by Mary, Jo thought about Morten Llewellyn and the literary treasure hunt they had solved together. As she remembered his shy smile she tried not to blush.

The prize Jo and Morten shared was an orrery, a wonderful contraption of wires and spheres showing the Transit of Venus, a rare juxtaposition of the Sun, Earth and Venus. The last one had been in 1882 – the next one wasn’t due until 2004.

The treasure hunt had been devised by the writer, Everard Burnley, before his tragic, early death. Jo had met him during his final illness, and her first response to him was positive and powerful, as if they were soul mates. Later she saw his darker side.

Now he dominated her dreams, still alive in a mythical land beneath the sea. The dreams were punctuated with nightmare flashes; a blood-red room where human sacrifices bled to death; a place decorated with skulls and bones; a store-room of dead bodies, human organs and severed limbs. Then there was a shot, and her mother was falling… falling… and Jo was jolted awake, crying and deathly cold.

Her mother came to her then, and held her close, murmuring, ‘It’s just a bad dream, darling,’ trying to bring warmth back to Jo’s ice-cold body, and banish the dark shadows of the nightmare. When Jo woke completely, it broke her heart to realise that Ali’s comforting presence was also a dream.

It was during the prize-giving that Jo discovered how Smokey, sullen, laconic, attracted to shadows and danger, and the first boy to tug at her heartstrings, had been spirited away from London. Smokey, his sister Bridget and their mother had escaped the clutches of Titus Stigmurus, head of the Glory Foundation and his ruthless second-in-command, Jo’s Aunt Lethe. The escape had been organised by the Righteous, the underground resistance group opposed to the power-crazed schemes of global domination devised by Titus and Lethe.

The Righteous were well represented at Mary and Matthew’s wedding. The nearest thing they had to a leader was taciturn Reg, with his down-to-earth common sense and preference for direct action. Until today no-one had ever seen Reg wear anything other than an old donkey jacket and jeans. He looked ill at ease in his hired suit as he took his place next to Brenda, his right-hand woman. Brenda was all smiles as she cradled her adopted niece, Josie, in her arms. The little girl cooed happily, secure in her aunt’s loving embrace.

Reg tried to concentrate on the wedding celebration, but his heart was deeply troubled. Someone had revealed the plan to rescue Smokey to Titus Stigmurus. The problem was, only one other person had known of the plan. And she was sitting next to him.

Lethe Lacuna opened her eyes. The first thing she saw was Doctor Jonathon Mallory, gazing adoringly at her. The benevolent after-glow of the anaesthetic battled with the irritation she felt as he lavished kisses on her limp hand. ‘What happened?’ she demanded.

In an adjacent cubicle a bewildered Nurse Carson was also opening her eyes. ‘Where am I?’ she whispered. ‘What happened?’

Doctor Mallory put on his professional face and turned toward Nurse Carson while deftly picking up a syringe.

‘You had a massive heart attack. Thank goodness you were on duty and we were able to operate immediately. You are a very lucky woman! Now rest.’ He gently closed the door as he returned to Lethe’s side.

‘Thank you,’ murmured Nurse Carson to the empty air, as the drug took effect and she slipped back into unconsciousness. On the very edge of her reason something was puzzling her, but sleep and sedatives combined to banish the question.

Meanwhile Lethe was looking under her bandages. She gritted her teeth. ‘Really, Jonathon? A heart-shaped scar?’

‘Forgive me – I could hardly bear to mark your perfect skin, but it had to be done. Titus Stigmurus demands photographic evidence of the procedure – and more. I was inspired by your beauty to use my skill with the scalpel to create something as exquisite as you.’ He parted the bandages and gently stroked the puckered edges of the delicate wound. He touched the centre, where a slight pulse was just about discernible.

‘I separated the tracking component. The instant Titus sends a signal, you will feel a gentle throb, here, and be able to take appropriate action. Fainting would cover most contingencies, and satisfy him that he does, indeed, control you. The rest of the computerised heart is now keeping dear Nurse Carson in good health. Hale and hearty, even.’ He looked very proud of his feeble joke. ‘We have a
Coeur de
Carson, refrigerated and labelled with your name, to satisfy Titus’s curiosity. Your own precious heart remains intact. We make a wonderful team.’ He bent his head and kissed the scar.

Lethe forced herself to remember that she needed this sentimental fool… for the time being. She made herself smile winningly then quickly closed her gorgeous green eyes before her exasperation became evident. As her copper eyelashes brushed her pearl-like skin, Doctor Mallory trembled with the fiercest desire he had ever known.

While Lethe feigned sleep he stroked her hair, murmuring, ‘My Titian beauty with alabaster skin,’ allowing his fingers to trail down her neck towards the fastening of her negligee. As his hand hovered, a knock at the door interrupted his reverie. He was exceedingly put out to see Titus.

‘How’s our patient, Doctor?’ asked Titus, his voice jovial, unlike his eyes which were cold and calculating. ‘Just want to test that everything’s in order.’ He was holding a slim, sleek, computerised device stamped with the Hearts Ease logo.

Jonathon Mallory gasped with horror. ‘
My
patient is still recovering from the procedure. I absolutely forbid you to cause her any pain whatsoever.’

Titus chuckled. ‘You can forbid as much as you like, Mallory. Just remember who pays your wages.’ He turned to Lethe, now fully awake and haughtily ignoring him. ‘I promise that you’ll hardly feel a thing, my dear. As soon as I am satisfied, I will stop.’

‘Damn you, Titus.’ Lethe was furious. She glared at him. He smiled inscrutably back. ‘Well, get on with it, then.’

Jonathon Mallory made a lunge for the device. Titus swatted him away effortlessly. ‘Quite the knight in shining armour,’ he observed. ‘Now keep your distance.’

There was an ominous click. Just as Jonathon had promised, Lethe felt the tracking device start to throb. Another click. She gasped for breath. Her hand flew to her heart. ‘I feel sick,’ she moaned, flinching as her breathing became more laboured. Her words were ragged, torn from her. ‘Titus, I beg you to stop.’

‘But of course.’ He turned off the machine. ‘Most satisfactory. No need to labour the point.’ Lethe trembled as he moved to the door. Tears glistened as she watched him leave.

As soon as the door closed and his footsteps faded into the distance she smiled triumphantly. ‘Fooled him,’ she whispered.

Jonathon rushed over and tried to hug her. ‘You were brilliant,’ he breathed. ‘What a wonderful actress you are!

Lethe wriggled out of his grasp. ‘Shouldn’t you check Nurse Carson? After all, Titus just caused her to have a minor heart attack.’

He was dismissive. ‘Who cares?  Dead, most probably, and frankly, so what? You’re all that matters.’ Lethe gave him an old-fashioned look. He blushed like a schoolboy receiving a reprimand. ‘Of course, you are correct. And so considerate. Do not alarm yourself. I gave her a strong sedative. She probably slept right through it
.
I shall find out at once.’

Lethe watched him go with barely disguised relief.

Chapter Two - Unending Rain

Jo stared out of the car window at the driving rain. Mary and Matthew’s wedding day had been the only sunny day of the New Year. Two months of relentless rain had followed and the land was waterlogged.

Samantha’s mother was worried. ‘Would you mind staying at the hospital tonight, Jo? I don’t like the look of the weather. If the river bursts its banks I’d rather not be out driving.’

‘That’s OK, Jean. Titus has arranged a guest room for me whenever I want it.’

‘He’s really a reformed character,’ smiled Jean.

‘No-one could do more,’ agreed Jo, trying to stifle the inner voice that persisted in questioning the motives of one of the most powerful men in the world. Did he really think she was the Child of Glory from some stupid old prophecy? Was he still harbouring plans to harness her amazing abilities for another crack-pot scheme to rule the world? Was he still convinced he had a direct line to God? With Titus, anything was possible.

‘We’ll take good care of Calico,’ promised Sam. ‘Dad really likes it when she jumps on his lap. It seems to soothe him.’

Jean was still fretting. ‘Your father is supposed to see the specialist tomorrow… but if the river does flood…’

Sam spoke hesitantly. ‘It’s a really important appointment – with a visiting doctor from America. She’s the best in her field and has some exciting ideas about helping Dad, but she flies back the day after tomorrow. I hate to ask, Jo, but if the worst comes to the worst and we’re stranded, do you think Titus would help?’

‘He’ll probably send a helicopter,’ replied Jo nonchalantly. ‘I’ll ask him, if you like.’ There were some perks in being under the protective wing of the founder of the Glory Foundation.

Sam was so relieved. She chattered excitedly as the journey continued.
Just like old times,
thought Jo.
As long as we don’t discuss religion, the Righteous, the riots before Titus repented his wicked ways, and Beth. And Smokey.

At the thought of Smokey Jo abruptly switched off. Reg assured her he was safe, but that was all she knew. As for Beth, she had just vanished; probably determined to find Smokey wherever he was. She had done it before, when Lethe held him prisoner in America, and she wouldn’t let him go without a struggle.

‘Jo? Jo? Come back to Planet Earth!’

Jo jumped. She had been miles away. ‘Sorry, Sam! What were you saying?’

‘I was asking if you’ve done your History homework?’

Jo pulled a face. ‘Not yet. I’ve brought the textbook with me so I’ll have something to do if the conversation lags.’

‘What are you studying?’ asked Jean with interest.

‘The Cuban Missile Crisis,’ replied Sam.

Jean looked appalled. ‘Good grief! Is that History now? It seems like only yesterday to me!’

‘Can you remember it, Mum?’ asked Sam.

‘Of course I can!’ she replied indignantly. ‘Your father and I had just got engaged, and we were terrified there would be a war and he would be called up. Mind you, if there had been a war, it’s hard to imagine what would have been left afterwards.’

‘How do you mean?’ asked Jo.

‘Well, I would say it’s the nearest the world has ever come to a nuclear war in my lifetime. And there was this really scary thing being discussed – MAD.’

‘Mad?’

‘Mutual Assured Destruction. The ultimate deterrent. The attacker and the defender would both be destroyed. Terrifying.’

Jo shivered. ‘Sounds like something Titus would dream up. So how did it start?’

Jean thought hard. ‘It was about Cuba. They’d had good relations with America for years, but Cuba was moving to the left politically and the U.S didn’t want that - remember, in the 1950s there was the Red Scare - they feared and hated Communism.’

‘When we did
The Crucible
at school we learned it wasn’t just about witch trials hundreds of years ago,’ remembered Sam.

Jo chimed in. ‘It compared the witch hunts to Senator McCarthy persecuting Communists in the Fifties.’

‘That’s right,’ agreed Jean. ‘McCarthy loathed Communists and his enemies say he wasn’t too bothered about evidence. On the other hand, his supporters point out that Stalin’s brand of Communism, for example, was pure evil. Anyway, in 1962 the Americans tried to overthrow the Cuban regime. They launched an invasion on a beach in the Bay of Pigs. The invasion was a dismal failure. After that, the links between Cuba and the Soviet Union grew stronger, and the Russian President, Nikita Khrushchev, suggested siting nuclear missiles in Cuba as a deterrent. They started building bases. When the Americans found out they set up a military blockade, to stop the weapons being delivered. President Kennedy thought war was almost certain.’

‘So what happened?’ asked Sam, enthralled.

Sam’s mother thought for a bit. ‘A lot of posturing and big talk on the surface, but urgent meetings and frantic negotiations behind the scenes. Some climbing-down, some face-saving all round. Between them Kennedy and Khrushchev found a path through it all, thank God. After all that, a year later, President Kennedy was assassinated.’ She trailed off. ‘We’re here. That’s just an outline, girls, but it’s all we have time for – so read it up properly! Oh, Jo, don’t forget to send our love.’

  The car pulled up outside the hospital. ‘Thanks, Jean,’ said Jo as she clambered out. ‘I’ll phone you about tomorrow. Bye, Sam.’

It was a short distance from the car to the foyer, but by the time Jo arrived at the reception area she was drenched. 

‘Couldn’t you have brought some sunshine?’ laughed Anna, the receptionist, as she handed Jo her security pass. ‘Oh, by the way, your friends are in the waiting room on level 2 – they asked if you would pop in and say hello.’ Jo looked puzzled. ‘Mr and Mrs Jamieson,’ added the receptionist helpfully.

Jo still looked perplexed, then smiled as she made the connection. ‘Matthew and Mary,’ she laughed, then looked worried. ‘Nothing’s wrong, is it?’ she asked anxiously.

Anna consulted her notes. ‘Just a routine appointment,’ she said. Another thought occurred to her. ‘Oh, some good news! Your aunt has returned from Lake Brienz, fully recovered from her operation. Mr Stigmurus welcomed her back with an enormous bouquet. Her research work is invaluable. There’s no-one can compare to her.’

‘She certainly is in a league of her own,’ agreed Jo drily.
Top of the class for power-crazed murder and cruelty, with megalomania and deranged jealousy for good measure. And apart from the Righteous and my family, the rest of the world is dazzled by her beauty and talent.

‘So the gang’s all here,’ said Mary laconically when Jo told her about Lethe. ‘Reg is in the coffee lounge, waiting to take us back home. Practically a full set.’
Apart from Quinn,
she thought.

And Rosie and the boys,
thought Matthew.

Jo continued trying not to think about Smokey. Or Beth.

There was an awkward silence, then a smiling nurse called Matthew’s name. After arranging to meet for coffee after the appointment, Jo carried on to the private wing.

Her steps seemed to drag the nearer she got, so she stopped off at the charming room Titus had set aside for her overnight stays, dried her hair and put on some dry clothes.

There was a discreet tap at the door. Titus Stigmurus stood there, beaming. ‘The girl told me you’d arrived,’ he said. ‘I hope you have everything you need?’

Jo looked at the wardrobe full of outfits that were tailor made for her. She glanced at a dressing table covered with beautifully perfumed lotions, bookshelves packed with novels by her favourite authors, music and television at the press of a switch. A small fridge packed with drinks and snacks was the icing on the cake. The room was perfect and she said so, adding, with a smile, ‘All I need is my cat!’

Titus looked anxious. ‘I’m afraid that’s not possible,’ he began, then realised he was being gently teased. He smiled, then looked serious again, saying, ‘I wish I could give you a positive progress report, Johanna. But all I can say is there is no change. We must continue to pray. And now your aunt is returned to work, perhaps she can use her incomparable talent and become the healer she was always meant to be.’

Jo looked startled, then angry. ‘I don’t want her help,’ she said fiercely. ‘She is not to be trusted.’

‘Have you forgotten that I now have the power of life and death over Lethe?’ The benign expression of a few moments before had been replaced with something dark and disturbing. ‘Her heart implant is fully under my control. She will never cross me again or defy my wishes.’

‘Replacing her dark heart is one thing,’ said Jo grimly. ‘Changing her personality is another.’

‘I fully intend that she will come to see the error of her ways,’ said Titus. He spoke quietly, but something in his tone caused Jo to shiver. ‘I need to check the weather reports – before I go, is there anything else you need?’

Jo remembered about Howard’s appointment the next day. ‘There is, as it happens,’ she said slowly. As she suspected, Titus was only too willing to help.
Making amends for his sins
, thought Jo.

She was disconcerted when he laughed out loud. She had forgotten his ability to emp. ‘And I have so many, many sins for atone for, dear girl.’ Pleased at catching her out, he started to giggle, and for a moment he looked like a naughty school boy.

Jo quickly shielded her thoughts as she remembered how Smokey, hiding in the shadows, had learned there was a formula that seemed to stop Titus from aging.

A drop of blood fell silently onto an old, creased, stained and faded piece of paper.

‘For God’s sake, Titus,’ said Lethe contemptuously, ‘you know that won’t work.’

‘I don’t particularly mind if it doesn’t,’ said Titus wearily. ‘I am so tired.’

Lethe spoke urgently. ‘You can’t give up now. If you do, all we have worked for will be wasted. The day of the prophecy is almost here. You fell from grace, as was foretold. You repented. You had a penitent’s vision of glory and now you are making GLORY a reality. Without you, it all falls apart. You must go on. You know what you have to do. Go and see Mirabel.’ There was a long silence and she struggled to contain her irritation. She made a supreme effort and her voice was almost tender. ‘Would you like me to come with you? You know you will feel so much better afterwards.’

Still the man at the desk was silent, his head bowed, his shoulders shaking. Lethe reached for his hand. ‘Oh, Titus,’ she said gently. Now her concern seemed completely genuine. ‘Tears won’t do. It has to be blood. You know that. Life’s blood. The prophecy is clear.’

Still chuckling, unaware that at least one of his secrets was known to Jo, Titus gallantly escorted her along a picture-lined corridor to a door marked Coma Ward. He opened the door for her, then went on his way.

Jo breathed deeply, then walked in.

The large, airy ward, with its central nursing station, contained several smaller side rooms. Jo smiled at the nurse on duty and knocked gently on the red door of one of the cubicles.

There was no reply so, with her heart in her boots, Jo let herself in.

‘Hi – it’s me. Shall I draw the curtains? It’s really dark in here.’

‘I prefer it that way.’