At first the tunnel was uncomfortably warm, but that gave way to cold air abruptly as he came to a wide-open cavern. Layers of rock were of unexpected colors and quite beautiful. The cave was a good distance underground, so he knew his voice wouldn’t carry to any soldiers sweeping the area looking for Luther.
Diego sang a few notes of a female morning bird, the indigo bunting. Lotty loved those birds, the male with his brilliant blue feathers and the female with her paler, much more subdued coloring. Luther had learned their songs to lure them close so she could watch them. Silence greeted his call, but he was certain Luther was in thecaves. He could feel the waves of pain coming off the man. He hurried, ignoring the chandelier overhead in the form of a stalactite. The color was nearly pure white but had a wide band of red at the top, tapering as it came toward the bottom. There were several stalactites on the ceiling, some bigger than others and all beautiful.
The stalagmites rising from the cavern floor were in columns of pale blue, purple and a shade of rust red. In two places the stalagmites nearly touched the stalactite above it to form a long pillar. Water dripped continuously as he made his way around the limestone. Rocks gave way to a shallow stream. The rock walls appeared orange with the peculiar red rust running along the edges of the water. The water was dark in places, forming pools, but Diego knew the floor was solid rock.
Water trickled from the walls of the cave on either side as he walked through the pools of water. The colors and various formations seemed ever changing as minerals mixing with calcite changed subtly. The walls were thick with tubes of yellow. On the floor were enormous tubes resembling shawls. Some were pencil-thin while others were huge, round and fat. Pale blue stalactites hanging from the ceiling gave way to ones of royal blue. Large and thick, there were so many they appeared nearly impenetrable.
He spotted the narrow corridor that veered off from the main direction of pools of water. The tunnel was dark and foreboding. He’d been down that tight, shadowy passage that was really a wide crack in two giant slabs of rock.
This was Luther’s refuge when he was in bad shape and knew it would be difficult to protect himself. Those coming for him would have to do so in single file. He felt the older man ahead of him, pain coming off him in waves. The scent of blood permeated the air.
Diego gave the birdcall one more time as he hurried forward through the narrow, mud-slick tunnel. Then he called out.
“Coming in, Luther,” he announced.
Strangely, that well of healing energy stirred, drove him toward the old man’s hiding spot, the need to help him stronger than anything he’d ever experienced, even with the animals he loved so much. He’d never had such a powerful response to a human being in trouble.
It felt like déjà vu as Diego rounded one more bend to see the larger hollowed-out chamber where Luther lay, blood covering his clothing so it was impossible to tell where the wounds were until he got right beside him. An arm for certain, and the worst wound was on Luther’s left leg.
“Tell me what’s going on, fast,” Diego instructed as he ran his hands over Luther’s arm and leg.
“They came for the girls. My nephew Collin’s girls. I had no idea they existed. When Collin and his wife died in an accident, rather than bring the girls to me as their parents requested, Bridget was taken to Whitney, and Leila was sent to the lab with the people I work with.” Luther sounded grim.
“Whitney did that?”
Luther shook his head. “A man by the name of General Pillar oversees the lab in Maryland where volunteers are enhanced and trained. Pillar made the decision to take the girls when Leila was ten.”
“Which one is Bridget and which one is Leila?” Why knowing that was important, Diego didn’t want to dwell on, but he wanted to know which was Warrior Woman.
“Bridget was curled in the ball and Leila is the fierce fighter.”
Diego found himself turning the name over and over in his mind. Leila. He couldn’t be paired with her since she hadn’t been sent to Whitney for enhancement. But he was inexplicably interested.
“The lab experimenting on you does the same thing Whitney does to women and children?” Diego sounded mild enough, but he didn’t feel that way. He knew Whitney had many facilities all overthe world. He had hoped the division responsible for Luther was different.
“No, to my knowledge the government lab only took soldiers who volunteered. They made an exception for the girls because they’re interested in natural genetics and what they can do with them. My fault. They knew I had psychic abilities and figured my kin would also. I didn’t think about family. I lost all contact with them after Vietnam.”
Diego understood what he was saying. The post-Vietnam years were a time of turmoil, and the returning soldiers weren’t treated in a respectful manner to say the least. Many became estranged from their families when they needed them the most.
“I had Lotty,” Luther said as if reading Diego’s thoughts. “She was my world and made everything I faced in my life worthwhile. I’d take nothing back, Diego. Not one thing, just to know I could have those years with her.” He looked up at Diego’s face. “Just heal the damn thing. I know you’re a doctor, but you can also do that mumbo jumbo your brother does.”
Diego drew back, deliberately lifting his eyebrow. “What makes you think that? Rubin is…” He broke off, trying to search for a word that would adequately describe his brother. “Elite. One of a kind. There is no one like Rubin.”
Luther gave a snort of derision. “You had everyone fooled, but you gotta remember who you’re talkin’ to. Spent a lifetime foolin’ folks myself. You can bet I spotted your game back when you were a little kid. You might be ten months younger than your brother, but you shoulda been twins. You’re exactly alike. Could be the same person. Fix the leg and arm so we can go after the girls.”
Diego was a little disgusted with himself. He should have known a man who ran a con his entire life would see right into him. “Rubin and I are alike in some ways; we share the same gifts, but he doesn’t have the kind of darkness in him that I do.”
He passed his hands over the wound in Luther’s leg. At once that well inside him opened, heat and healing energy pouring out. “Our mother saw it in me. She talked to me often, explaining I was born to be the opposite of Rubin, that he was pure light and healing energy. I had the darkness in me. She described me as the executioner. She told me my sole purpose was to keep my brother safe. Our mother had gifts and she could see things others couldn’t.” He spoke matter-of-factly because he’d accepted his mother’s assessment of him before he was eight. He’d lived with that knowledge and done his best to make the most of his life.
Luther eyed him with a kind of shock. “Boy, you had to know your mother was ill. Mentally ill. She was always too soft inside for the kind of life she had. After your father died, and she lost your two older brothers, she had a mental break. She made you and Rubin responsible for your sisters and her. You were just little kids, and she forced you to take on the role of adults.”
“That doesn’t negate what she knew. She was a seer.” Diego placed his hands above the wound on Luther’s arm. That healing energy welled up strong. He’d never used it on humans, but he’d healed countless animals. His gift hadn’t gone to waste. He’d never revealed to anyone, including Rubin, that he had the same gifts his brother had.
“Children have no idea their parent is mentally ill. How they are raised and the things the parent says and does are normal to those children even when it’s abuse. You were abused both emotionally and physically, but you and your brother simply accepted it as how parents raised children because you never saw any other way. You accepted that you were responsible for bringing your family food. That required hunting. I know you got beat if you ever missed and came home a bullet short. I saw the evidence on more than one occasion. I used to bring fresh meat to the cabin in an effort to spare you boys when the weather got rough. Your motherhad no right to expect eight-year-old boys to go out in the middle of a snowstorm and bring back food to the family.”
“Someone had to do it,” Diego pointed out.
“Not in the middle of the storm. Your father would never have gone out in that weather, but your mother insisted that you and your brother go. She didn’t recognize your genius—finding the parts to put together a generator, bringing water to the cabin. Diego, think back to your childhood. You had to have questioned her orders and decisions at some point. You had to realize she was putting your life in danger.”
