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

by Silk, Avril

  The reply was suitably trenchant. I will endeavour to contain my impatience.

  Jo was thinking furiously as she headed down the corridor. Aunt Lethe was in danger. Despite the terrible things Lethe had done, Jo’s instinct was to warn her. Whatever grand design the Gatherers were planning, Jo doubted it included world peace and prosperity for all. She wondered whether Titus would bend the knee, or openly resist them.

  Chapter Nineteen - Mind Games

  ‘Jocasta! What a pleasant surprise! Jonathon – please bring Jocasta a pot of tea and some of those exquisite Florentines.’

  If Jonathon Mallory minded being ordered around he showed no sign of it. He smiled adoringly at Lethe, grinned at Jo and left the room. The idle thought flitted across Jo’s mind that he was a very handsome man.

  Lethe looked at her niece quizzically. ‘So, Jocasta -what can I do for you?

  ‘You could call me Jo, Aunt Lethe. I must have asked you a thousand times.’

  ‘Do not exaggerate, child. It does not become you. And Jocasta is a beautiful name, meaning Shining Moon. Most appropriate for my favourite niece. So what brings you to my office?’

  Jo was reluctant to launch into her story without a clearer idea of how things currently stood between Lethe and Titus. She saw a chance to test her new ability and satisfy her curiosity about her aunt’s past.

  ‘Aunt Lethe, do you remember telling me that Titus asked you to marry him?’

  Lethe looked amused. ‘I told you that?’

  ‘Yes – it was when we were planning to go to Paris. Sebastian was driving us to your dressmaker. You thought I needed some clothes that were suitable for high society rather than tree climbing. You said my mother had failed to teach me the first principles of good grooming.’

  ‘That certainly sounds like me. Your mother’s lack of dress sense is legendary. Whereas mine… I always knew what would suit you and enhance your eyes and hair. I remember a wonderful copper coloured day dress. You looked stunning. Oh, and didn’t I introduce you to champagne and oysters?’

  It’s working! thought Jo gleefully, having never eaten an oyster in her life. ‘That’s right! And on the way back we had a heart to heart…’ Greatly daring, Jo pushed the fantasy further, hoping for a definite answer to a question that troubled her. Sometimes she thought she knew the answer, other times not. ‘I asked you if Hawk is my brother.’

  ‘And what did I say?’

  ‘You said yes.’

  ‘Then you have your answer.’

  Jo was overjoyed. She couldn’t wait to speak to Hawk. Meanwhile she carried on probing.

  ‘After that you told me about Titus…’

  ‘I remember! I told you he was desperate to marry me, and I was going to, but when I discovered I was pregnant he started to get cold feet. Even so, he helped me find a foster home for the baby. We put it all behind us and he asked me again, but I couldn’t go through with it. By then I had given my heart to another - the only man I have ever truly loved. Obadiah Moon.’

  ‘So why didn’t you marry him?’

  ‘He loved religion more than he loved me, Jo. I was heart-broken. Afterwards, Titus and I concentrated on our business association and the development of our international projects.’

  ‘Do you regret not marrying, Aunt Lethe?’

  Jonathon Mallory came back in and placed a tray in front of Jo. She wondered if he had overheard any of their conversation. Lethe dismissed him with a regal wave of her hand, and considered Jo’s question.

  ‘The road not taken, Jocasta, is best not contemplated for long. My work, my wealth, my place in the world command respect and envy. Other women would kill to have my life. Thanks to Titus, doors open for me all over the world. I have very special memories of Obi. And there’s always Jonathon.’

  ‘So if I told you that Titus, you and the Pastor are all in danger, and that there are plans to destroy the whole city of Deadwood and maybe the Glory Foundation, would you help?’

  ‘I’m intrigued. Tell me,’ commanded Lethe, and Jo recounted all that she had heard.

  At the end Lethe was silent for a time. ‘So the Gatherers are flexing their muscles,’ she mused. ‘Poor Titus. And the loathsome Olivier Anders is the messenger. I trust you have learned to keep a safe distance from him?’

  ‘Oh yes.’

  ‘I need to talk to Titus,’ said Lethe decisively. ‘I have vital information which will change everything. Jonathon – please take my ward-round and apologise to my patients for my absence.’

  ‘One of the locums could stand in. I should be by your side, dearest,’ objected Jonathon. Jo thought to herself that something in his submissive, hangdog demeanour rendered him a lot less attractive than first impressions suggested.

  ‘Absence makes the heart grow fonder, Jonathon. My patients will appreciate your bedside manner. Off you go now.’

  Lethe tolerated Jonathon’s reproachful, tender farewell kiss. She watched him walk away with a sigh, then turned to Jo. ‘So many woman long for a man who will put them on a pedestal and worship them, Jocasta. Believe me, adoration is overrated. But enough of that. Let us see what we can do about poor Titus.’

  As they walked through the hospital corridors Lethe seemed to be enjoying herself, remembering titbits about the completely fictitious car ride to visit the dressmaker.

  ‘Poor Sebastian had one of his dreadful headaches,’ she said. ‘We stopped by the river for our picnic lunch. Sebastian had a glass of red wine in the erroneous belief it would cure his headache, then he mixed a divine cocktail – Champagne Charlie, I think, with apricot brandy. I gave you a sip, even though your Puritan parents would have disapproved! Do you remember?’

  ‘It was delicious,’ feigned Jo. ‘My very first taste of alcohol. I felt quite light-headed for a moment!’ A cautionary voice in Jo’s head counselled Don’t lay it on with a trowel.

  ‘I haven’t seen you wearing that copper dress lately,’ observed Lethe.

  Jo‘s face was a picture of regret. ‘It doesn’t fit me anymore,’ she said.

  ‘Would you have described the colour as copper or bronze?’ asked Lethe.

  ‘Copper,’ answered Jo decisively.

  Lethe nodded in agreement, then laughed. ‘This is fun!’

  They had reached Titus’s office. Lethe swept in imperiously, startling Titus and Anders, who were deep in discussion.

  ‘Olly Anders, as I live and breathe!’ smiled Lethe. She bestowed an air kiss on his pale, wrinkled cheek. ‘My delightful niece tells me the Gatherers are growing restless, and that certain threats have been made.’

  Titus and Anders looked astonished that they had been overheard. ‘Where to begin?’ Lethe sat down, crossed her long, elegant legs, and took a slim cigar from her bag. As she leaned forwards, emphasising her generous cleavage, Anders nearly fell over himself in his attempt to light the cigarillo.

  ‘How about if we start with my research? Mirabel’s formula remains a mystery, alas, but with sufficient leverage I think we can break her. There are rumours of a child dear to her heart… possibly the Child of Glory…’

  Titus looked extremely uncomfortable, and Jo felt uneasy, wondering when Lethe was going to drop the bombshell that would help Titus.

  ‘About the Child. There are over two hundred chimeras in the world now, created as a result of my scientific knowledge and intervention. Any one of them could be the Child. But you already know that. What you don’t know, darlings, is that each and every one has a tiny implant which only I can activate - when the time is right. The same is true for many of my regular patients, unwitting participants in my experiment. In some cases the implants were positioned years ago. It is only now that I have perfected the first stage of the programming. I did not choose to discuss this project with the Gatherers before in case it failed. But there are interesting initial results.’

  Anders was frankly sceptical. ‘Such as?’

  Lethe was enjoying herself. ‘Rather like the artificial hearts that dear Titus controls, I h
ave the predictable power of life and death over these subjects. All very useful. But the extra dimension has enormous potential for manipulating minds generally, not just my control group.’

  ‘Go on.’

  ‘It is the capacity to implant an idea. Or, to be more accurate, the words that cause ideas to grow. Allow me to demonstrate.’ Lethe reached into her bag and took out a small silver cube, dotted with gold symbols. She stood between Titus and Anders. She pressed one symbol, and with the box close to her lips, whispered a few words that only the two men could hear. They both looked mystified.

  ‘Sebastian would have been better off with burnt toast,’ said Jo, then immediately looked confused. Why on earth did I say that?

  ‘If his headache were the result of a hangover, I agree,’ smiled Lethe. She moved away from the two astonished men, pressed another symbol, and whispered again. Now Jo could hear her.

  ‘I gave Lethe complete access to the Deadwood Destruction codes,’ said Titus, echoing Lethe’s whispered words of a moment ago.

  ‘You bloody fool,’ hissed Anders.

  ‘I did no such thing!’ Titus quickly came to, protesting his innocence. ‘It is some time since I trusted Lethe with anything important. She wants you to doubt my loyalty! She will turn you against me and seize power.’

  ‘Your loyalty is already in question,’ snarled Anders. ‘It is highly probable that you did grant her access.’

  ‘So it begins,’ smiled Lethe. ‘Do you see the potential?’

  The atmosphere in the room was electric. All eyes were on Lethe. She looked directly at Anders. Another symbol; more whispering.

  ‘Molesting beautiful young scientists gives them the opportunity to insert a tiny implant,’ mouthed Anders. His face was a mask of horror as he realised what he was saying. He lunged for the silver box, spittle forming at the corners of his mouth with the unaccustomed exertion.

  Lethe laughed mockingly as she sidestepped, holding the cube out of reach. Anders looked at her with loathing. ‘Party games and gimmicks scarcely justify our investment in you, Madame.’

  ‘You have always lacked vision, Anders. That is why you cannot see the possibilities of my research. I believe your associates will take a different view.’ Lethe turned her attention to Jo and smiled. ‘That was such a lovely memory game we played, my dear. As if I would drink anything called Champagne Charlie! And as if you could outwit me. Just think, it is possible you might have winkled some secrets from me, but more likely you merely confirmed your own fantasies. Now you’ll never know. In case you are wondering, your implant was placed in position when I rescued you from that terrible fight at the Roundhouse, and gave you a taste of gracious living – a kindness which I recall you repaid with cruel ingratitude.’

  Jo was speechless. She had thought she was planting false memories in her aunt’s mind, and all the time her aunt was playing with her.

  ‘Enough of this,’ snarled Anders. He drew a gun and aimed at Titus. ‘She is out of control. You said you have the means to destroy her. Do so, and at the same time prove your loyalty to the Gatherers.’

  Anders released the safety catch. Titus paled. He reached into his desk drawer. ‘I’m truly sorry, my dear,’ he said sadly, ‘but they leave me no choice. This is the end of the road.’ In his hand he held the Hearts Ease testing device. There was an ominous click.

  Lethe’s face was a mask of horror. ‘Titus, no! I beg of you! Not my heart!’

  Although his face was stony, tears poured down Titus’s face. There was another click, and Lethe clutched her chest, gasping and choking as she fell gracefully to the ground. She writhed, agonised, then all movement ceased and a terrible silence fell.

  Seconds passed as Jo, Titus and Anders exchanged horrified looks. Then they watched, transfixed, as, with a sharp intake of breath, Lethe began to laugh and laugh. Slowly she stood up, still laughing, and they saw she was holding her pearl handled revolver. She aimed directly at Anders.

  ‘It seems it is dear Titus who has failed to deliver,’ she murmured. ‘I am, as you see, very much alive. Whether the same can be said for Nurse Carson is another matter.’ She turned to Titus. ‘I note you were prepared to execute me, Titus. I won’t forget that.’

  Jo’s mind was working overtime as she tried to figure out what to do. She started to emp Mary and Matthew but Lethe’s eyes blazed as she intercepted the message. ‘If that pair of fossils try to interfere I will kill them like rabid dogs,’ she hissed. ‘Which reminds me.’ Lethe smiled at Anders. The smile did not reach her eyes. ‘Poor Olly. It seems your mission to dispose of me and bring Titus to heel lies in ruins. Controlling Titus is my prerogative. That being so, it is difficult to see any reason to prolong your lecherous, disgusting existence.’

  A shot rang out and Anders slumped to the ground, fatally wounded. Lethe gave him a brief, cold glance, then turned her attention to Titus. ‘We have had a long and fruitful relationship, Titus. You have taught me so much. More, sometimes, than you intended. Your final gift to me will be Mirabel’s formula.’

  ‘You know I don’t have it,’ said a bewildered Titus.

  ‘Indeed. But Mirabel does.’ And with that, she shot Titus in the chest.

  Lethe continued talking, her tone almost chatty. ‘It will take some time for you to bleed to death, Titus. Long enough for Mirabel to get here and save you. I will enjoy discovering exactly how she does it. A woman can never have too much leverage. I’ll need the Hitler sketch, of course.’

  ‘I haven’t got it,’ gasped Titus. He looked deathly pale.

  Lethe crossed the room like the wind and bent over him. ‘You never part with it,’ she spat, roughly pulling his jacket in her search for his wallet. She found it and rifled through it, her bewilderment increasing. ‘It’s not here.’

  ‘I told you that.’

  Lethe put her face close to Titus’s. ‘Where is it?’ she hissed.

  ‘Mirabel has it for safekeeping.’

  ‘You never trusted me with it, yet you trust that old harridan?’

  Titus shrugged.

  Lethe turned to Jo. ‘If I call her, she will be suspicious. You telephone her, and just say that Titus urgently needs her formula and is sending a helicopter.’

  As Jo dialled she was desperately thinking how to alert Mirabel without Lethe realising. Her fingers shook as she dialled, and that gave her an idea. When Mirabel answered, Jo talked over her saying, ‘Madame Mirabel? It’s Jo – Jo Lakota. Stripy Girl.’ She paused for a moment, frowning slightly. ‘I beg your pardon? Oh dear. I’ve got the wrong number – you sound exactly like her. She must have a double! A duplicate. So sorry for troubling you. Goodbye.’

  Lethe pursed her lips and tapped her foot impatiently. Jo looked apologetic, and immediately dialled again. This time she said, ‘Madame Mirabel? It’s Jo – yes, that’s right. Stripy Girl. Titus urgently needs your formula. Your special formula. He’s sending a helicopter to collect you.’

  Mirabel, sharp as ever, said quietly, ‘Is this a code, Stripy Girl?’

  Jo felt weak with relief. ‘Yes.’ A memory stirred. For good measure she added, ‘Copy that.’

  She was going to say more, but Lethe took the receiver away from her and disconnected the call. She sighed. ‘Eschew vulgar jargon, Jocasta,’ she cautioned, then rang for the helicopter to collect Mirabel.

  ‘She’s on her way,’ Jo said to Titus. She would have liked to emp him, and Mirabel, for that matter, but she was well aware that Lethe could pick up on the message.

  Lethe was talking sternly to Titus. ‘You know, you have been very selfish in keeping the formula to yourself. Imagine the benefit to the world if it were widely, and lucratively, developed.’

  ‘Everything… I… have…’ Anders was trying to drag himself across the floor. ‘If… you… save… me… as… well.’

  ‘Don’t be stupid,’ said Titus, his voice weak. ‘Once she has her precious formula, she’ll have no further use for any of us. She’ll kill us all. When Mirabel gets here I will t
ell her to let me die rather than allow the formula to fall into Lethe’s hands.’

  Lethe looked hurt. ‘You malign me, Titus. I do not wish you dead despite the fact you would have killed me if you could. I have such grand plans for the future, and you have your part to play.’

  ‘What… about… me…?’ Anders’ voice was little more than a whisper.

  Lethe looked at him with contempt. ‘What about you?’ she said, and turned her attention back to Titus. Her expression was extremely thoughtful. It was obvious she was working out something complicated. ‘While we’re waiting we can sort out the access codes for the Deadwood Destruction project. Are they in the safe?’

  Without waiting for an answer Lethe moved an oil painting to one side, revealing a large wall safe. She turned the dial of the combination lock several times. Nothing happened. She tutted. ‘Dear me, Titus. How very paranoid of you to change the combination. What is it? I really don’t want to have to make you tell me.’

  Titus said nothing, but Jo noticed that as he grew weaker, his ability to shield his thoughts was diminishing. Lethe noticed as well. She smiled triumphantly.

  ‘So. The access codes are not in the safe. Where then, Titus? You must realise your mind is fast becoming an open book. I can look anywhere I want.’

  Lethe cocked her head on one side as if listening intently. As Titus slipped further into unconsciousness, he struggled to control his thoughts. Lethe was jubilant. She looked at Jo. ‘Shall we tell him, dear Jocasta? Oh, don’t pretend you don’t understand what I am talking about. I know you can read him as well. Titus dear, saying over and over Don’t think about the ring is a complete giveaway.’

  Titus was too weak to resist as Lethe pulled his gold rings from his fingers. She scrutinised each one carefully, until she found what she was looking for. Her voice was almost gleeful as she said softly, ‘Very clever, old friend. Engraving the codes inside your grandfather’s signet ring. Perfect. I am glad we didn’t have to resort to unpleasantness.’ She carefully put the ring in her purse. As she did so Titus struggled to say something. Lethe listened attentively. To Jo’s surprise, her aunt’s expression slowly changed from malicious triumph to something softer, even girlish. She nodded, smiling joyfully as she did so. ‘I understand,’ she said, then, to Jo’s surprise, she kissed Titus warmly and whispered an apparently heartfelt ‘Thank you.’