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  Mystical Signs: Cancer

  Dog Wild 2:

  FORGET ME KNOT

  BY

  MELISSA GLISAN

  www.VenusPress.com

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  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, places, organizations, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

  FORGET ME KNOT

  Copyright © 2006 by Melissa Glisan

  ISBN: 1-59836-354-9

  Cover Art © 2006 by Croco

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any form without permission, except as provided by the U.S. Copyright Law. Printed and bound in the United States of America.

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  www.VenusPress.com

  Dedication:

  To all the readers who just had to have more doggy goodness, with special thanks to Susan K. for all of her support.

  Prologue

  The Protector

  The battle was done. Mighty Herakles flanked by his cousin, Iolas, gripped the immortal central head of the defeated hydra aloft as they rode into the sunset. Lupercus watched them leave as he watched them do battle, in silence. Dropping to his knees he shifted form from man to his birth shape of wolf and padded slowly over the churned loamy sand. The hydra was a wily foe, a proper challenge for any hero with her seven heads full of teeth striking here and there with lightning speed. She valiantly stood her ground, locked in battle even though heads sloughed away under Herakles’ sword. It had taken energy from the creature, growing back those appendages to replace the ones severed and the beast began to falter.

  That was when Iolas entered the fray; Lupercus wrinkled his face in disgust. The tasks laid out to earn the honor of naming the stars had been given to him and Herakles to perform, not to any other. Seeing the imbalance, a crab had scuttled out of the Hydra’s lair and tried to help defend his friend. Their friendship was obvious as the mortally wounded Hydra tried to shield the small armored creature from being stepped on or worse. In the end, she failed and fell not far from the small battered shell of her would-be protector.

  Lupercus delicately prodded the crustacean’s broken body with his nose. Such a little thing, yet consumed with the courage and desire to save his friend. As a minor god, that of the wolves, Lupercus had some healing power for his own kind, but none for the small water-born creature dying between his forepaws. A small pincher twitched and tried to clack the air as night fell and the cool rays of moonlight bathed the beach. The light shed from the moon grew brighter still until the beach was lit as bright as day. Lupercus stood over the small broken form; it was the least he could offer the stalwart creature. The blue-white waves of light made the beach look tainted and dirty under the brilliant purity cast around. In response to the call of the celestial body, the tides roared and leaped, crashing with a fury against the rock strewn banks outside the sandy inlet cove.

  Slowly the light receded and reformed into a glowing shape that walked along the beach. Lifting his nose, Lupercus scented the air, nothing. He leaned and watched the luminescent being’s approach, no tracks on the soft sand. The only thing that marked its passage was a small stream of sparkling motes. They fell to the ground and glowed from within, like scattered tears trailing in the sand.

  She neared and Lupercus was awed. Never before had one of the Star Sisters descended to earth, not for god nor man, yet before him now one knelt in the muck reaching for the body of a broken sea thing. Shuffling back, he sat on his haunches and watched, rapt as the being reached forward glowing fingers trying to collect the crushed body, but her airy appendages slipped through the crab.

  Lupercus looked up. A flicker of motion had drawn his eyes away from the terrible tableau of one of the most powerful beings in existence trying to offer assistance but unable. But in raising his head, his tracking eyes fell upon the face of the Star Sister and he lost his breath. Hair so white as to be tinged blue swam in tendrils around a perfect oval face etched in misery. The eyes were a maelstrom of mercurial nothingness. One moment hope shone quicksilver bright before spinning into a void of empty black.

  Even more disturbing was the dome of the heavens behind the grieving deity, the sky was littered still with the twinkling points of light for the Star Sisters and Brothers, but the spot where the moon resided was black as pitch, a gaping hole arrayed on the horizon.

  “Step away Lupercus, Wolf Lord,” spoke a voice laden with feminine authority. Her voice always raised his hackles, this time was no exception. Lupercus felt his ruff lift as he bared his teeth and huffed a warning. Juno may believe herself Queen but he would have nothing of her machinations. The flicker of motion he detected must have been her arrival on the beach.

  An arched brow and half smile conveyed amusement that ignited his blood. “Just as you don’t recognize my dominion Wolf Lord, this small creature refuses me as well. He chose the White Goddess.” Lupercus tilted his head in confusion. He had never heard of gods or goddesses of colors. Reading his mind Juno laughed lightly, “She has no name, not yet my fine forbearing sibling. Rather She has many, legion, and Herakles will give her another, but no one name will adhere to her brilliance, She refuses it.”

  Pointing to the void in the night sky, Juno continued, “See you there, the black disk where once the brilliant moon did dwell? That is She, the White Goddess. When She flees the heavens to impart souls to babes at birthing time, the night loses its glow for She is the white light in the night sky.” Juno paused, watching the once serene face of the White Goddess creased by sorrow. She placed a hand on Lupercus’ shoulder and he resisted the urge to nip at her wrist. He felt her unease at the edge of his mind. The sight unnerved the self-proclaimed Goddess Queen as much as it did himself.

  “There are three sisters that share that celestial body,” she whispered, “White, Red and Black. When the sky is full of Her radiance the Black Sister roams the earth collecting the souls of the dead. As the Black and White hold hands and spin across the heavens, the Red Sister merrily runs amok spreading passion, be it war or love, she fans the deepest, darkest flames in man’s soul.”

  With a final pat on his back, Juno stepped forward head bowed, and gently lifted the broken body so the White Goddess could take the dead thing. Instead the silent goddess paused, her light pulsing in waves over the Wolf God and the Soul Mate, as Juno was called. Incandescent hands reached out and tugged. Lupercus saw a small fragment of his aura float into the hands of the Star Sister just as a similar light was pulled from Juno.

  Wait and watch. She looked first to Lupercus then to Juno. A son of your clan and a daughter of your spirit will come to being when they are needed most: the perfect protector and the destined mate, children of the stars born to man. Nurture them, for if they fail, all of us will wink out, remembered only in the celestial seas.

  The night fell dark as pitch as Juno tossed the small broken body skyward filling a dark corner with pinpoints of light forming a crab. “Then let them be born under this sign, so that we might know them,” her words rode the wind as she dissipated into the night. Standing on the beach Lupercus watched the moon as it regained its brilliance and offered up a long mournful howl.

  Returning to the shape of man, he slowly gathered up the White Goddess’ tears and placed them in a small bag hung at his hip. />
  Chapter One

  August 24, 1992

  North Marion High School, Farmington WV

  The roar of sound in the cafeteria was deafening. Celena Black wasn’t certain what to expect from her first day of high school, but so far everything had exceeded her worst imaginings.

  Why couldn’t mom have left everything alone? She asked the tops of her stupid patent leather shoes for the hundredth time since she’d been forced through the front doors of the red brick school. But no, she was a prodigy. Not just a simple genius, the word had to be drawn out and savored like a cherry Lifesaver. It made Celena want to puke.

  Oh sure, the school psychologist argued against advancing her again, as did the guidance counselor and the principal. Even her sixth grade teacher opposed the action. That one had made the mistake of telling her mother that Celena wasn’t “socially mature enough to handle the transition.” Sandy Black’s response was to take her daughter home and enroll her in every summer program under the sun, moon, and stars.

  “You’re the best thing your daddy ever gave me baby. I want only the best for you. I want you to have a better life than mine. I’m nothing more than a waitress, never even finished high school.” Sandy’s tired cornflower blue eyes glowed under the halo of her silver-blonde hair. Celena felt ashamed then blessed that she’d been lucky to have such a loving mom. So what if she started kindergarten a year early or that she skipped first grade? Making her mom’s pretty face light up became the driving force of Celena’s world. She studied and worked earning the glowing praise that made her heart sing.

  The only thing she ever begged her mother for was a chance to finish junior high with her classmates. The idea of being in high school scared her spitless. In sixth grade she’d been taunted and teased, called ‘Celery Stick’ because she was so skinny and had such a stupid name. Now, in ninth grade, she was just a name to plug into an assigned seat.

  The school was enormous and no one warned her that upperclassmen would purposefully give bad directions just to watch her get lost. And no one had mentioned that lunch would be so late in the day, after fourth period, or that there wouldn’t be seating plans like junior high.

  The room was packed full of people loaded with books and trays. Celena felt her stomach clench and considered following a small trail of laughing students heading towards a pair of glass double-doors at the other side of the room. Outside there was a courtyard with benches that herds of teens slouched on.

  Looking around the room, Celena felt her spirits sink further, not a place to sit that she could see and lunch was half over. It had taken so long to get to her locker and swap books for the second half of the day that she’d been late getting to lunch.

  Loud burst of laughter to the right made her jump and clutch her books to her chest. Tawny brown hair and flashing doe eyes framed a female face sneering at her. Oh, no! Belle Tressler. The oldest sister of Bebé, Brie, and Bunny, and the creators of the ‘Celery Stick’ moniker. Bunny wasn’t so bad, they’d shared a mat in kindergarten, but when Bebé was retained to the second grade the year Celena skipped ahead, things got ugly. From second grade on, Bebé and Brie enjoyed pushing Celena around. From the looks she was getting from Belle, Celena had a bad premonition about the next few years.

  “Celery Stick, I heard you’d be here. Come to blow the curve in my Western Civ class?” The group of pretty girls at the table snickered. Celena knew she was in high school but seeing so many girls openly cuddling up to boys still put her off balance. Dropping her eyes from the group, she felt her face burn as she peered sideways at the glass doors across the room, calculating her odds.

  Madden “Red” Silvestri wasn’t known for his diplomacy. He lived up to his name and nickname with relish. Belle had a rag on because he snubbed her when she latched on to him outside the cafeteria. Who the hell decided that cheerleaders absolutely had to date football players? It was a crock and he wasn’t buying.

  When the small silver-blonde figure walked between his giving Belle the finger and her trying for a “can’t touch this anyway cowboy” sexy look that just made her look like she had to puke, Red figured the kid would get the bums-rush. Damn, but she was small. He got up and walked behind her, she looked like a grade school kid that had gotten lost.

  “Ignore Belle,” he spoke to the sleek crown of pure white hair that seemed to glow and shimmer even in the gloomy concrete jungle of the cafeteria. “She isn’t happy unless she’s being a bitch or getting catered to.” Tipping her head straight back, Red grinned down into the pixie-cute face that stared into his in utter shock.

  “Madden Silvestri? From the football team?” she squeaked out, spinning around to stare even more. Sheesh, if her big flannel-grey eyes bugged out any more they’d land on the floor. Shaking his head, he tugged her over to his table with the rest of the jocks. Normally, their policy was no females – ever, but no one said anything when he plunked her books on the table. Sitting down, he noticed there were no chairs for her. Not seeing the big deal he pulled her onto his knee, like he’d done hundreds of times for his little cousins.

  Her face was a study in emotions, shock, embarrassment, fear, and worry settled into this pinched pained look. “No biggie kid, just sit and ignore the hyenas over there. Call me Red, everyone does.” With only ten minutes to the bell and her just walking in, Red figured she hadn’t eaten yet. Pulling money out of his pocket, he signaled his younger brother, Marc, to get her something from the salad bar.

  “I can’t keep calling you kid and I know Celery Stick has got to be wrong, so what’s your name?” Without books to hide behind she didn’t seem to know what to do with her arms or how to speak. Her eyes kept darting from one guy to another.

  “Celery Stick?” Jeremy Adams, the captain of the wrestling team looked up, “I heard about you. My kid brother was in class with you last year. Said you got straight A’s all the time. Celena Black, right?” Red watched as her face flushed scarlet and she nodded, staring at her hands clasped in her lap. Then it hit him.

  “Jeremy, I thought your brother was in seventh this year?”

  “Yeah, he is. Celena here has a history of hopping up grades.” Jeremy gave the girl an odd look as he shoveled more green beans into his mouth.

  “Only the once,” her voice sounded watery, like she was going to cry. Jeez, he hated that kind of thing. “But,” she sniffled, “my mom – she…she’s…”

  “Let me guess, it was her idea?” Marc silently set a tray with a small salad, roll, and cardboard container of milk in front of Celena. “Who cares? Eat,” Red prodded. When she made to just sit there, he got mad and barked the order again without thinking. It worked, she started eating. It also made the rest of the table stare at him in shock.

  “What?” Red demanded. “Me and the kid are going to be buddies, right?” He prodded her with a finger. “Maybe you can keep me from being held back again,” he teased. The guys laughed and went back to eating.

  Only Marc knew the real reason Red missed an entire year of school, the others just assumed it was for being truant and screwing off. It was true that school didn’t interest him much, but his grades were solid. If being his tutor gave Celena some protection for the next few years he didn’t care. Something about her brought out the watchdog in him.

  ****

  Three years later…May 30, 1995

  “Mom, please,” Celena begged, “let me do this one normal high school thing. I‘ve never asked for anything.” Technically that wasn’t true. Celena had begged, wheedled, cried and finally feigned deafness until her mother relented and allowed her to spend an hour in the Farmington Library every afternoon with Madden Silvestri.

  Even though Madden liked being called Red, Celena hated the nickname and refused to use it. He just laughed and tugged her hair or shoved her shoulder for being funny. She wasn’t being funny at all, Madden had dark red hair that looked black until he went into the sun, and then it flamed. The color was so vibrant calling it ‘red’ was a travesty.

>   “Senior skip day is my one day to be normal. We’re just going to the state park for a picnic. Madden is going to be there, he won’t let anything happen.” Being fifteen was hard enough without graduating early. All the grade hopping meant that her mom was frustrated in one goal--valedictorian. Celena was secretly thrilled that she wouldn’t have to get up and give a speech. For once she could fade into the background and let others be acknowledged for intelligence.

  Sandy Black didn’t look convinced. Ever since Celena dug her heels in over Madden, her mother had turned angry. Every day she faced the same routine of embarrassing questions about kissing, being groped, and worse. Why her mom thought Madden would even bother to look at a scrawny kid her age, she had no idea. It wasn’t that Celena didn’t think that Madden was hot; he was just so far out of her league it wasn’t funny. Not only that, he was three years older.

  “Mom,” Celena made her voice firm, “I’ve taken the classes you’ve picked, worn the clothes you bought, even applied to the colleges you chose. Madden and I always celebrate our birthday together, this year I won’t because I’ll be in college in California.” She changed to a pleading tone, “Please, let me have my birthday a month early.”

  When she had first learned that she shared a birthday with the star everything at North Marion High School--football, track, and wrestling--she acted like a total dweeb getting all excited, but Madden hadn’t cared. He even invited her to his parties. This year he kept dropping hints that he had something special planned for their birthday, and she needed to tell him she would be away, doing a summer intern program at Cal-Berkeley. She was a coward; she had known about the program for the last two months but couldn’t get up the nerve to tell him.