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

by Silk, Avril

  Lethe was in remarkably good humour. Jo wondered what could possibly have happened to transform her. When there was a knock at the door Lethe remarked, ’Mirabel got here quickly. She must have flown!’ Like so many people with a deficient sense of humour, Lethe thought her own jokes were hilarious. She was still laughing as she opened the door, but the smile quickly faded.

  ‘Oh. Jonathon. It’s you.’

  ‘Yes,’ he replied cheerfully, seemingly oblivious to Lethe’s ungraciousness. ‘I’ve finished the ward round and I’m ready to give you a full report…’ His voice tailed off as he took in the scene behind Lethe. Gulping, he said, ‘I say! What’s happened?’

  Lethe was thinking on her feet. She waved her gun in the direction of Anders, who was gurgling unpleasantly, trying to speak. ‘He tried to kill Titus so I shot him, but Titus is badly wounded. I’ve sent for Mirabel. She’s the only one who can save dear Titus.’

  Jonathon was all concern – for Lethe. ‘Dearest! Are you hurt? How brave you are! What can I do to help?’

  ‘I wonder…’ Lethe looked almost winsome, but Jo could sense her mind whirring. ‘Sweetheart, I hate to leave you, but I have to go to America. Something terrible is about to happen, something that will affect thousands of innocent people, and Titus was flying out to stop it. He cannot possibly go now. I am the only one who can stand in for him, but I cannot desert my patients without a reliable replacement for me. Only you would do justice to the dear souls. Please say you’ll do this for me… and when I come back…’ she whispered in his ear and he blushed like a schoolboy.

  Titus and Anders were in no condition to contradict Lethe’s version of events. Jo considered doing so, but she was certain that Jonathon would not hear a word said against his precious Lethe so she saved her breath.

  Despite Lethe’s whispered promise Jonathon was not at all happy with the plan, and said so several times, but she responded with a winning combination of beguilement and steely resolve, until he gave in. She rewarded him with a lingering kiss, then said briskly, ‘Please instruct my pilot to stand by ready for take-off. As soon as Mirabel has arrived and I know dear Titus is safe, I will depart. It would be absolutely darling of you to pack an overnight case for me…’

  Jo watched as Doctor Mallory immediately set off down the hall. Lethe neatly stepped over the wheezing Anders and knelt by Titus. The sound of hurried whispering greeted Jo’s ear just as Mirabel arrived, out of breath, clutching her enormous carpet bag and clearly worried. She pushed past Lethe unceremoniously, crouching down by Titus.

  ‘Mirabel’s here, dearest. Soon have you as right as rain.’ She glared at Lethe. ‘Cutting it a bit bleedin’ fine, ain’t you?’ She gestured at Anders. ‘Who’s the stiff?’

  Anders tried to speak, but there was just a horrible rattling sound. ‘He ain’t got long,’ observed Mirabel. ‘I’ll need a drop of blood – might as well be his.’ As she rummaged in her bag for her syringe, a pair of bright eyes looked up at her inquisitively. ‘It’s your lucky day, Mr Mouse,’ she whispered.

  ‘Hurry up,’ said Lethe irritably. Mirabel bared her teeth in return. ‘Do you want to take over, your Ladyship? No? Then show some bleedin’ respect.’

  Mirabel crouched over Anders, stuck the needle in and withdrew a few drops of blood. He rattled and wheezed, trying to clutch her hand. ‘Save me,’ he implored.

  ‘Can’t be done,’ answered Mirabel. ‘Sorry and all that.’

  She turned back to Titus. As she did so she looked at Jo. For the fraction of a second she seemed to wink, then she looked away. Lowering herself to the ground she cradled Titus’s head on her lap. He tried to smile, but the effort was too much.

  ‘Won’t be long, my precious,’ Mirabel cooed. ‘I just need to find that naughty Mr Hitler’s scribble.’ She dived into her capacious bag again and brought out a lovely red satin bag, embellished with a golden tassel. Carefully she withdrew the blood-stained scroll and smoothed it flat on her lap.

  ‘My poor boy,’ she crooned, and splashy tears started to fall. ‘Love’s tears,’ she said, emptying the syringe onto the paper, ‘and life’s blood.’ As the blood and tears mingled, the lines on the drawing started to glow, and, shining through the blood of Titus’s murdered mother, it was possible to make out an army of toy soldiers led by a small boy. Mirabel reached inside Titus’s shirt and pressed the paper to his heart for a minute. She then carefully rolled it up, put it back in the satin bag, and dropped it on top of Mr Mouse’s travelling cage.

  ‘I’ll be taking the drawing,’ exclaimed Lethe, stretching out her hand haughtily. She aimed the gun at Mirabel’s heart.

  ‘You’d better look after it,’ hissed Mirabel, rummaging around. ‘Now, where the bleedin’ hell’s it got to? Ah, here it is.’

  Lethe snatched the red satin bag. ‘Is it working?’ she demanded.

  ‘It will take a minute or so,’ replied Mirabel. ‘Don’t blow a gasket.’ All eyes were on Titus, so nobody noticed the moment when Anders finally died, but when he did, Titus’s eyes fluttered open. The colour slowly returned to his face. He blinked and stared at Mirabel, uncomprehending, before trying to smile.

  Lethe spoke crisply. ‘Good. He’ll live. We will have further discussions when I return.’ She crossed over to the door. ‘Jo, hurry along now. You’re coming with me!’

  The second Lethe was out the door Mirabel grinned at Jo, pulling another red satin bag from her holdall. It vanished in the twinkling of an eye when Lethe came back and seized Jo’s wrist.

  ‘Why do I have to come?’ demanded Jo. ‘What about my parents…’

  ‘They will be told. Of course you’re coming.’ Her face was radiant. ‘Thanks to Titus, all my plans have changed! The future is going to be wonderful and you have a vital role to play!’

  Chapter Twenty - Revelation

  Lethe stretched out luxuriantly. After a short helicopter ride to the airfield she was happily ensconced in her private jet, sipping champagne and humming snatches of operatic arias. Jo had never seen her look so happy. She pressed a button on the intercom. ‘How long before we land, David?’ she asked.

  ‘Another hour and twenty minutes,’ came the reply from the cockpit. ‘Just relax and enjoy the ride, sweetheart.’

  Lethe frowned at the unwarranted familiarity.

  ‘I beg your pardon?’ she said icily.

  ‘Dearest, did you really think I would let you undertake a dangerous mission without me by your side to take care of you? David was more than happy to have a co-pilot…’

  Lethe’s face was a picture as realisation dawned. ‘Jonathon?’

  ‘At your service for ever and always,’ came the besotted response.

  Lethe and Jo watched the ambulance speed away across the tarmac.

  ‘Poor Jonathon,’ observed Lethe. ‘I do hope he hasn’t broken too many bones.’

  ‘You pushed him,’ said Jo flatly. ‘He was helping you out of the plane and you pushed him down the boarding stairs.’

  ‘Nonsense, dear,’ chivvied Lethe, her good humour fully restored. ‘It was a most unfortunate accident.’

  ‘You could at least have gone with him to the hospital.’

  Lethe sighed. ‘You’re too young to understand, Jocasta, but I have to let Jonathon go. As I am trying to let him down lightly, that would have sent quite the wrong message, and raised false hopes.’

  ‘I’d like to see the ones you don’t let down lightly,’ said Jo sarcastically.

  ‘No, you wouldn’t, dear. Trust me on that.’ Lethe looked across the airfield. ‘Just a short helicopter ride, and we’ll be there! And then a whole new chapter will begin!’

  Jo could not believe her eyes. First she saw a familiar grove of elm trees, then, next to a brand new, picturesque, red brick church, she recognised a neatly kept graveyard, with a stone angel by a spreading magnolia tree. Where she expected to see acres of wrecked buildings, fire damage and scorched earth, there was a vivid, colourful fairground.

  Lethe noticed her amazement.
‘Titus rebuilt it,’ she said simply. ‘The Phoenix Fair. Risen from the ashes. Bigger and better than ever. A valuable source of employment opportunities for the local population.’

  ‘And perfect cover for your laboratories,’ said Jo.

  Lethe was unperturbed. ‘Indeed. Very few people know how vast this underground complex is. I ought to have known you would be one of them. We should never underestimate each other, Jocasta.’

  After the helicopter landed Lethe led Jo to an elegant apartment in a new building on the study centre campus. Lethe seemed anxious and excited at the same time as she showed Jo around. ‘This is your bedroom, Jocasta,’ she said, ‘and this is mine. You should find everything you need to freshen up after the journey. There is a wardrobe full of beautiful clothes. Please find something more flattering than your current outfit. I want us both looking our best – I am expecting a very important visitor in less than two hours.’

  As Jo lay soaking in a fragrant bath, she fervently hoped that her aunt had kept her promise and sent a message to Paul. When she had checked, Lethe reproached her. ‘But I always keep my promises,’ she protested, a study in injured innocence. Jo realised that was, in fact true. She thought wryly it was probably Lethe’s single claim to virtue. Although, as she stood, wrapped in a soft, fluffy bath-towel, looking at the gorgeous clothes in the wardrobe, Jo thought that impeccable dress sense came a close second.

  When she appeared, dressed in black jeans and a glorious coral blouse, she expected to see Lethe looking like a fashion plate. Instead she saw her aunt as she had never seen her – devoid of makeup; her hair loose; dressed in a white cotton shirt, tight denim jeans and intricately tooled cowboy boots. She looked ridiculously young, and her evident anxiety enhanced the effect.

  When the long awaited knock on the door came, Lethe sprang to her feet and stood, eyes closed, screwing up the courage to open it. When she finally did, Jo tried to see who was in the corridor, but she couldn’t. As soon as the visitor spoke, however, Jo began to put some of the pieces together.

  The man spoke with a soft drawl. ‘What fresh devilment is this, Lady Midnight?’ he said, and Jo ran across the room to greet her old friend.

  ‘Jo? You’re here as well? What is going on?’ Obadiah Moon looked confused as well as somewhat amused.

  ‘I have no idea,’ answered Jo. ‘I’m hoping Aunt Lethe will explain.’

  ‘And I will,’ she said simply. ‘Sit down, both of you, and make yourselves comfortable.’ She served fresh, aromatic coffee and delicious cakes, fussing around the Pastor, to his complete bemusement.

  After a little idle chit-chat, Lethe stood up and looked directly at the Pastor. ‘Obadiah,’ she began, ‘you know I have only ever loved you. It broke my heart when you rejected me.’

  Jo felt extremely awkward. ‘Are you sure you want me here?’ she asked. ‘This seems very private.’

  ‘Please stay, Jocasta. I need you to tell Obi that what I am about to say is true. He might not believe me otherwise.’

  Obadiah’s face was stormy. ‘I have no reason to believe you. You chose an unrighteous path, Lethe. You knew I would not join you there.’

  Lethe bowed her head. To Jo’s astonishment there were tears in her aunt’s eyes. ‘I am so sorry,’ whispered Lethe. ‘If I could undo it all, I would. I am hoping to prove my love and repentance to you.’

  ‘I’m listening.’

  Lethe took a deep breath. ‘A secret group of powerful, evil conspirators, called the Gatherers, wants to convince your government that their views should inform the policies and laws of this country. Your new President is proving resistant. They intend to demonstrate their power by staging what will look like a terrible accident, with the clear threat of worse to come.’

  ‘What kind of accident?’ Obadiah’s face was grim.

  ‘A nuclear incident. They plan to obliterate Deadwood and the tribal villages of the Lakota.’

  The Pastor turned to Jo. ‘Is this true?’ he demanded fiercely. She nodded. He turned to Lethe. ‘How do you know this?’

  Lethe found the words difficult to say. ‘Titus and I used to be part of the group. He has been resisting them ever since his religious conversion.’

  ‘And you? Have you been resisting them?’

  Lethe shook her head. ‘Not until now. But I see things so differently now. I – we - can stop this atrocity.’

  ‘How?’

  ‘The command centre for the operation is here, underground. The whole complex is a nuclear bunker. Titus designed it during the Cold War.’

  Jo remembered all the provisions she had seen in the store rooms when she and Matthew were exploring the vast network of underground tunnels. She thought of Burlington, the secret, emergency government underground war headquarters in Wiltshire, but the memory reminded her of Smokey. She did not want to think of him. She concentrated on what her aunt was saying.

  ‘I have the access codes for the detonation.’ Lethe showed him Titus’s signet ring. ‘Without these codes no-one can activate the explosion.’

  ‘Perhaps Titus copied them,’ suggested the Pastor grimly.

  ‘No. He was against this project even before his conversion.’

  ‘How does your having the codes keep Deadwood safe?’

  ‘Because, my love, I will gladly give you the ring, to have and to hold,’ answered Lethe softly.

  There was a very long silence. Jo found she was holding her breath. Eventually Obadiah spoke.

  ‘You’re asking me to marry you.’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘And if I decline your kind offer? Is this the point where you show your true colours and destroy the community I love, out of spite?’

  ‘I didn’t say that.’ Lethe looked and sounded hurt. ‘But is the thought of marrying me so awful that you would, even for a moment, contemplate risking the lives of thousands of people?’

  ‘It would be easier to trust you if you just give me the ring now, without any conditions,’ observed the Pastor.

  Wordlessly Lethe handed it over. The Pastor could not hide his surprise.

  Lethe smiled nervously, her eyes beseeching. ‘I’m trying to do the right thing here, Obi. Titus also told me that the ring is the actual key – without it the codes are just numbers and the detonation cannot happen.’

  Jo remembered Titus whispering something to Lethe as they waited for Mirabel to arrive with her formula. So that was it.

  The Pastor gave a mirthless laugh. ‘There’s bound to be a catch. With you, there always is, Lady Midnight.’

  Lethe’s face softened as she looked at him. ‘I have put my heart on the line, Obadiah. All my knowledge, all my achievements are yours for the asking. You have given away nothing. Can you truly tell me you do not love me?’

  ‘You know the answer to that. But marriage needs more than love alone.’

  ‘Marry me, Obi, and I promise you, you will not regret it. I will be the wife you dream of and you will never be lonely again. I sense your loneliness, Obi – it is a darkness within you, slowly destroying you. But you have a hunger for love and joy that longs to be fulfilled. There’s still time for us, Obadiah Moon.’

  ‘I need to pray before I can answer you,’ said Obadiah slowly, still giving nothing away. He stood up to leave.

  Jo had been doing her best to appear invisible, trying to decide if she believed Lethe to be sincere. There was something she wanted to tell the Pastor. She spoke shyly. ‘Before you go, please can I come and see Gleam?’ she asked.

  ‘Of course,’ he replied. At the door he turned to look at Lethe, whose naked expression was so vulnerable it tore at Jo’s heart. As their eyes locked, Jo felt the power of the passion that connected them. Embarrassed, she looked away, and went on ahead, outside to where the magnificent golden horse was tethered, waiting patiently.

  A little later the Pastor joined her. ‘So what is it you want to say to me?’ he chuckled.

  ‘Look,’ said Jo urgently, ‘I’ve no idea if you should marry Lethe, or if she ca
n be trusted. That’s between the two of you.’

  ‘Three of us,’ declared Obadiah. ‘I need the Lord’s blessing.’

  ‘Right,’ said Jo. ‘I don’t know about that either. But I do know that the Gatherers are determined to destroy Deadwood. If the worst comes to the worst there’s a back way into the underground complex here, just off the old Deadwood trail.’ She described the location of the aircraft hangar.

  The pastor caught on quickly. ‘You’re talking mass evacuation,’ he said quietly. ‘Assuming we get any warning. We really need a mole in their depraved, corrupt organisation.’

  Not for the first time Jo wished Smokey was still around. His gift for fading into the background made him the perfect spy. That aside, she just missed him.

  She watched as the Pastor rode away, then went back to the apartment where Lethe was looking at pictures of wedding dresses. ‘You will make a beautiful bridesmaid,’ she told Jo confidently.

  The bells were ringing sweetly. It seemed that all the residents of Deadwood and the surrounding area were streaming across the fields through floral arches to the white clapboard church. Most came with love in their hearts for their Pastor; many came to look at the notorious devil-woman from England who had won his heart. A few, who had entertained secret hopes of becoming Mrs Moon, came with their heads held high and their dreams in tatters.

  ‘She’s bound to be late,’ Obadiah said to Jeremiah Leroy Brown, his best man and a world renowned choir master, as they stood in the doorway of the church, welcoming the congregation, shaking hands with old and new friends.

  ‘Brides always are,’ said Jeremiah. ‘I just hope she’s worth waiting for.’ Despite his best efforts, Jeremiah’s normally open, sunny face was clouded. He was afraid his friend was making a terrible mistake.