The Prophecy: The Blood War Over Humanity

By B. LETOURNEAU

The saga of the DeWitt and Dubois families
continues, fighting against all odds with friends and foes alike to
fight for the balance of good and evil over all of humanity. Now, it’s
possible that God’s left-hand angel Jonathan DeWitt and Esmeree Dubois
are missing and presumed dead. Generals on both sides are jockeying for
a place at the head of the table for power. Bloody power
confrontations are mudding the waters. What next, who next is the
question. Jessie, Johnny, and Michael have to maintain their strengths
together, but Jonathan’s generals and council members want the three of
them spread into three groups along with a small handpicked party to
finish the mission in order to end this annihilation

of all human life as it is on earth. Time is of the essence if the
prophecy is to be fulfilled. Three parts of the prophecy have to be
completed and the ceremony of Life and Death has to be consecrated in
Mexico in the City of the Dead. Along the way, new friendships are
formed and bonded, but it seems Sirius still has his council members
infiltrating, gathering information, and undermining all bonds of trust.
Satan has his foot soldiers striking and leveling all known
sanctuaries that the twins, Michael, and their soldiers could go to and
regroup together, but each group has to make it to Mexico independently.
Every step of the way is done with a sharp eye and even sharper
knives. Death is stalking their every move, and there is no room for
negotiations or parlays.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Newman Springs Publishing, Inc.
• Release date: Jul 24, 2020
• ISBN: 9781645316787

Book preview

Chapter One

Sirius smiled benevolently up at Esmeree. She was as beautiful as ever, even covered in her own blood, which smelled divine to him. Sirius could see why Jonathan was slightly more than attached to her. Sirius had again secured her. She was forever rising to the misguided thinking that mortals would be loyal until their death. It was funny how even the staunchest advocate would succumb to nothing more than a quivering pile of dog shit when they were faced with their own demise. Promises of riches and immortality usually did the trick when faced with certainty of their own mortal death and what the alternative would do for them if they followed through on his bid ding.

Esmeree smiled rather curiously at Sirius through swollen lips, ignoring the blood that was pouring from her, once again, at the hands of Sirius. She also ignored the fact that Renee lay dead on the floor below her. There was nothing she could do for him. Renee had made his choice, and he paid for that disloyalty to her family at the hands of his new master. Esmeree laughed softly at Sirius. He couldn’t deny his belief in the prophecy, and he was afraid or he wouldn’t keep trying so hard to kill them all off.

Sirius had her hung from chains in his monstrosity of a church where the altar should have been. He had a flair for the dramatic ambience: dark, blood, and stained glass!

So, Sirius, Your Grace, what’s your plan C? You are kind of running out of your foot soldiers and your fellow brethren, aren’t you? She laughed at him even though it hurt like hell. She wasn’t going to let him get to her, and she wasn’t going to let him use her as bait again either.

Sirius hit her hard enough that she swung backward like a punching bag. He pulled out his dagger. He had had just about enough of this bitch and her mouth. He didn’t need her alive; he only had to make Jonathan think she still existed in order to draw them all in. He had used his shape-shifting ability before to mimic her image, and he would do it again.

The door opened behind him with two of his unholy clergy. One of them carried a container of blood and water on a serving tray, which was covered with a cloth. Bowing to their master, they waited patiently for his direction, ignoring the body sprawled on the floor in a pool of blood below their swinging guest. It was just another one of their duties cleaning up after their master.

Sirius’s phone rang before Esmeree could swing back toward him. He swiftly answered the phone and sheathed his dagger in eager anticipation.

Si, si! He smiled as he closed his phone. He put out his clawed hands and slowed Esmeree down as she swung toward him, touching her almost intimately and soothing her dress down and her bloody hair out of her eyes.

Well, looks like we will have a family reunion again soon. As we speak, Jonathan and the children are landing in London. Soon, so soon, you all will be here for the party!

He turned to his clergymen and snarled at them. Watch her. Do not get too near or even God will not help your damned souls if she gets loose! He slammed the door shut as he exited the chapel room.

Father Miguel moved cautiously toward Esmeree with the decanter of blood and a damp cloth.

No! Father Hannigan screamed at his companion, His Grace said not to get near her.

He grabbed out to his brethren, but lost his grip on the monk’s sleeve, catching only air. He refused to get any closer. He was not exactly sure of whom he was more scared of at the moment: Esmeree or Sirius. Either one of them meant unequivocally certain death and not necessarily a quick one.

Our Lord said not to get near her, but he also ordered nourishment for her to keep her alive at least for the time being, correct?

Not waiting for an answer, Father Miguel moved closer with the decanter of blood and a cloth to clean her up a little. Putting the decanter of blood up to her lips carefully, he could see the results of Sirius’s handiwork up close. Sometimes he secretly wished there was a way out of this life that he had been ordained into. Death was the only release to save his soul and that was damned a long time ago, even before he was ordained into Sirius’s church.

Esmeree accepted the blood. It revived her as she felt her face being gently bathed. Her strength was building as she plotted the monks’ deaths, all of their deaths. But she continued to feign helplessness as she gained strength back in her limbs. They thought that she was weak and she would give them no reason to think otherwise for the moment.

Soon, both of the clergy threw caution to the wind. Although they wore the tainted trappings of religious frocks, they instinctively followed their earlier training. Taking care of the less fortunate was ingrained in them. Father Miguel bathed Esmeree’s arms, face, and neck. Father Hannigan kneeled and washed the blood from her feet, maneuvering around Renee’s body.

Esmeree looked down at them through veiled lashes, thinking, Gods be praised. These pious pieces of shit were in the optimum angle to grab and straddle them together with her powerful legs. She didn’t give any warning, not a sound as she quickly pushed herself up, using Renee’s body for leverage, and quick as a snake’s bite, she wrapped her legs around both men, crushing them together as if in a vise grip.

What, no, ouch, let go, madam, let gooo! Squealing like a little girl, Father Miguel couldn’t believe it. No matter how hard he tried to shake loose from her, it was as if they were locked in a python’s grip. He had a premonition suddenly: it was all doom. Doom for them all!

Father Hannigan had fainted from shock and lack of oxygen. He was not conscious to realize what his fate was as well.

Esmeree kept her legs in a strangle grip. She started pumping to swing the three of them, using their weight as ballast to gain momentum. Higher and higher they went, swinging back and forth like a pendulum, closer and closer to the rafters above. She finally let go of her dead weight, so to speak. The monks flew across the room and landed with a thud high up on the stone wall and dropping to the stone floor like brown bags of wet cement. Esmeree kept swinging higher, until she could grab onto the beam with her legs and managed gracefully to upright herself to a sitting position. She brought her manacled hands up, looked at the puny restraints, and quickly shredded the leather bands with her razor-sharp teeth. She got up and ran across the crossbeams lithely, climbing her way up the rafter rungs to the small stained-glass window at the pitch of the roof. She kicked out the glass and disappeared into the dark stormy night.

Phase two, she softly said. She had contingent plans to set again in motion before Jonathan and the children arrived in Italy. Sirius had only delayed those plans by two days. Fate and the prophecy were still on their side.

Chapter Two

Jonathan sat back in the captain’s seat and took back the controls of the sleek Global aircraft. The aircraft glided silently through the dark clouds, descending from the heavens, and speeding into hell’s fury.

The co captain spoke briefly to the tower at the small airport outside of London. London, this is Niner Three One Tango. Runway Niner Six still open, over.

The co captain nodded to Jonathan that they had clearance for landing. The Global landed smoothly in the moonless, foggy London night. The blue lights of the runway blurred by as they glided down the Niner Six runway and then off onto the tarmac into a private hangar.

Disappearing into the darkness with their running lights extinguished and the jet engines throttled down, the Jet glided silently through the doors of the hangar, which immediately closed after them.

Okay, children, it’s time for a little cat-and-mouse games. You up to it? Jonathan gathered his bags from the overhead bins and smiled at them as they stretched and gathered their bags as well.

Mon Seigneur, vous et vos enfants sont sûrs et va avec Dieu! Captain Leflore kneeled briefly by the passenger door stairs and kissed Jonathan’s ring. Then getting up, he and the steward bowed to Jonathan and then stood at attention while the DeWitt family disembarked.

The flight crew had instructions to wait thirty minutes before leaving the hangar. They were to lay over a week at the local hostel, keeping a low profile, then fly on to London’s Heathrow Airport and turn the aircraft back into the leasing corporation as inconspicuously as possible. As usual, Jonathan DeWitt always paid quite handsomely for services with discretion. Their services for this trip were worth a year’s contract wages. Smiling, the pilot and copilot walked toward the hostel only a kilometer down the road. It was too late for a cabbie out this way and the air was not too cool for a stroll, and besides it was quiet, dark, and safe enough. The two joked quietly in the dark as they walked. The pilot and copilot were thinking of nothing but their good fortune and how they would spend their money.

The black Hummer sat menacingly in the corner of the hangar. It was waiting for Jonathan and his family, fueled up, loaded with supplies, everything they needed for a hunting party the lethal hunting kind.

The Mercedes that was parked up the street outside of the small airport switched on its running lights from out of the murky darkness and slowly followed the two pedestrians leaving the airport. The occupants smiled hungrily in the darkness. Their master Sirius was right as usual. He knew that Jonathan would use a smaller airport rather than Heathrow. Their stomachs were growling in anticipation. They loved French fast food! Their brethren would pick up Jonathan’s trail and follow the Hummer, and they would follow the sky jockeys. Nothing like a late-night snack!

Michael, take the A4361 West toward Avebury Stone Circle, then catch the M25 south. Keep a steady pace; we do not want to lose our companions behind us, not yet. Jonathan settled his long legs in and got comfortable.

Michael glanced up in the rearview mirror at the headlights about half a kilometer behind them. Michael gleaned a dark smile toward Jonathan. Michael was thinking that the fun just never stops around him.

The twins looked behind them through the back window; they could see the headlights. How did they know? Johnny looked from the headlights to his uncle.

I’m sure Sirius had his men staked out every airport in and around London for a hundred kilometers. Jonathan tried his phone again; still no answer at Renee’s or Esmeree’s number. He felt things were not quite on schedule, but when were they ever? Jonathan felt that Esmeree was all right. Michael didn’t feel anything amiss either or he would have thought it or said it aloud.

Where are we going, Uncle Jonathan? Johnny took out his earplugs, putting down his music iPod for the moment. He noticed or rather felt a sad note from his uncle. Is something wrong?

No, things are moving as expected, but with most plans there are usually some unexpected twists in the plans. Right now, we are just going to drive. Michael, I’ll let you know when I want you to lose our tail! In saying that, Jonathan sat back in the seat and closed his eyes, which was his way of letting them all know that he was trying to concentrate on communication with Esmeree and he wanted no distractions.

Johnny put back in his earplugs, listening to his music, but his mind wasn’t listening to the beat.

Jessie was thinking the same thing he was: Uncle Jonathan was worried about something and he was walling them off. It frustrated the twins because he said there would be no more secrets and their minds would be open to each other, unless they requested privacy. And of course that is precisely what he just did. Jessie squeezed Johnny’s hand, and he squeezed her hand back.

Michael looked in the rearview mirror. The car’s headlights behind them on this virtually deserted byway were still keeping a measured distance. He glanced sideways at Jonathan; he was as still as a statue. Michael looked back in the mirror at the twins; they both looked detached and concentrating as well. He figured they were talking silently among themselves. Sometimes that bugged the hell out of him, but they were very close. He just wished that…

Michael, when you start the climb up this hill, in about five hundred meters or so you will start into a curve. At the precise moment you start the curve. I want you to accelerate, not enough to leave skid marks but enough briefly to lose them. Turn off your lights immediately, and then I want you to make a left-hand sharp turn onto a dirt road on my mark, understand? It has a lot of overgrown brush and the tree line starts at a thick old growth. Jonathan did not look up; he still had his eyes closed. Everyone, buckle up. Now!

You got it. Michael could feel the power of the engine rev up as he started the climb and then start into the curve, quickly shutting off the lights. He immediately banked a hard left onto a rough path, the Hummer sliding slightly, but Michael had no problem handling the maneuver. He had spent six weeks in defensive limo driving school per his mom’s request last summer. He wouldn’t exactly call this a road, the mud and dirt flying behind them.

Okay, Michael, slow down to a crawl. This road is very tricky in the daylight, and I want the dust to settle behind us. If the trackers are human, it will take them longer. If one or some of them are Sirius’s foot soldiers, they will find where we turned off in a couple of hours or so. It will give us time to regroup and see where our plans have progressed thus far.

You know, Jonathan, my eyes are very good in the dark. If I phased just a little, we don’t need light or to slow down. Michael looked at Jonathan in the dark for some agreement.