Omens (Cainsville, #1)

by Kelley Armstrong

the CIA realized the potential of psychology to produce the ideal soldier and assassin, and to provide foolproof methods of extracting information from enemy spies. Thus began a decade of experimentation with drugs—particularly LSD—and extreme psychiatric measures like electroshock therapy, sleep therapy, and sensory deprivation.

Shrinks subjecting psych patients to treatments that erased their memories permanently.

Agents slipping drugs into drinks at bars, inviting people back to parties and spraying LSD in the air. Nothing said it better than a quote I found from George White, an OSS officer heavily involved in the experiments: “I toiled wholeheartedly in the vineyards because it was fun, fun, fun. Where else could a red-blooded American boy lie, kill, cheat, steal, rape, and pillage with the sanction and blessing of the All-Highest?”

In 1974, as word of MKULTRA was just beginning to leak, a hungry young Chicago journalist caught a whiff of it and saw a career-making break. As she researched the story, doors were slammed in her face. Colleagues advised her to drop it. CIA representatives strongly advised her to drop it. All this only seemed to strengthen her conviction that this story needed to be told. The government was trying to stop her. She would not be stopped. Except she was. While walking to her car one night, a man approached her in the parking lot. He didn’t say a word, but she later provided a perfect description of him to the police. Not surprising, given that his face was the last thing Anita Mosley ever saw. Her attacker had thrown acid in her eyes, blinding and scarring her

life. When speculation arose that the man was connected to the CIA, all the local news outlets received a letter from the attacker, claiming he was simply a patriotic American teaching a lesson to a Commie woman reporter. The police never found him to test that claim. After that, Anita Mosley disappeared from reporting for a while. She might have been scared off, but from everything I read about her, I doubted that was the case. Maybe a significant other urged her to take some time off. Maybe her employer forced her onto disability leave. All I could tell was that she went quiet until the Senate hearing on MKULTRA, and then she reemerged as an authority.

She’d fought the CIA and lost. By the time she rebounded, the “secret” was common knowledge and she couldn’t hurt those who’d wronged her. Yet she wouldn’t drop the matter, either, doggedly struggling to keep alive a scandal no one seemed to care about.

Operation Midnight Climax?”

“The sight is one of the manifestations of the old blood. Bendith y Mamau.”

“Very good. It means ‘the mother’s blessing’ and is one Welsh name for the fae. The more common one is Tylwyth Teg, which translates to the fair folk. In the context of the current conversation, Bendith y Mamau seems more appropriate.”

“Hypnosis merely taps into something already present in the subconscious. At most, it plants an idea. I can use it to help someone who wants to quit smoking; I cannot use it to force someone to quit against her will. That is mind control, and it is beyond the realm of possibility.” “Mmm,” Patrick said, stirring his tea. “Beyond the realm of science, I would agree. But the idea of controlling another person is very common in folklore and the occult, everything from fully possessing another person to controlling the risen dead. Even simple spell-craft—incantations, potions, and the like—aims to control behavior. Now, if

the CIA’s scientists had been more open to those explorations, I’d wager they’d have had better luck finding their elixir.”

What he’d found was another Druidic link. Each stone left in the victim’s mouths had a small hole through it. At first, they’d been mistaken for amulets, the presumption being that the holes had been carved. Later, they were discovered to be naturally occurring perforation.

Adder stones, Patrick called them. They often had a glassy center, usually flint. Ancient Celts believed that center was the hardened spittle of snakes—or even dragons. Adder stones were particularly prized by Druids. They were known as Gloine nan Druidh, or Druid’s Glass, in Scottish Gaelic, and were said to aid in spirit travel.

It couldn’t be done by natural means; Patrick was sure of that. Even by unnatural means, it was difficult. One could certainly influence behavior. There were also charms and trances. But their effect was sadly limited. Yet if there was a way to mingle the scientific and the mystical . . . Very intriguing.

“Patrick? He’s older than I am, Olivia.” “What?” “Not by much, I presume. But I recall him as a young man when I wasn’t more than a teenager. He’s definitely older than I am.”

a crow fluttering outside the window. Only one, which should have been fine, but if it was at a window, that was different. Another omen of death.

He understood now why the Huntsmen had forbidden him to simply remove her from the equation. The restriction rankled, but he dared not defy them. That was beyond dangerous.

Rain on a sunny day. That’s good luck.