Living the Promise: Chapter Fourteen

Joe stammered out the name of the newly arrived figure nowtowering over him, "Vincent!" Somehow, he gently settled Diana downto the tunnel floor and out of his embrace, then struggled to hisfeet, though his legs threatened to betray him. There was somethingabout the mythic apparition who'd at last joined them that caused theDA to want very much to be on as level a footing with it as he couldbe.

In the long moment of silence that passed between them, JoeMaxwell wasn't certain he hadn't dropped into the midst of somesurreal fairy tale. Part of him was ready to judge, with extremeprejudice, the mysterious presence that was Diana's husband, in lightof his anxious musings of the past few minutes. But the astonishingreality of the man took hold of Joe and drew him totally beyondsuspicion and blame, setting him up instead for overwhelming,awestruck, acceptance.

His investigative mindset tried to surface, take in details,process them, but his attempt failed in a heartbeat. The . . . man .. . before him was beyond description, even though the DA had caughtsight of enough of Vincent's extraordinary reality that night at thecemetary at Catherine's grave not to be totally surprised at hispresence.

Darkly cloaked, and unnervingly still, the figure stood fully ahead taller than him, and Joe guessed, conservatively, carried atleast 50 pounds more, too, that appeared to be nothing short ofmuscle and sinew. He seemed to fill up the space, his presenceoverwhelmingly permeating the instant with power and force.

But what was even more arresting than the sheer intense reality ofthe man was the fact that the particulars of his features were unlikeanything Joe'd ever witnessed, clearly, in truth, beyond human:Upswept brows, pronounced, high cheekbones, an upper lip that wascleft, and more muzzle than mouth -- these were all the dramatic andmajestic details expected in a . . . lion's face . . . framed by athick golden mane of cascading hair, and not a description of a man'svisage.

Yet, the unique, unhuman characteristics were melded somehow intoa face that was terrifyingly, heartstoppingly, beyond human, theawe-inspiring features of an avenging protector of mythic legend.

And then there were Jacob's eyes.

An astonishing blue, like the little boy's, but a half dozen timesmore intense, lit from deep within by an unshakable force of truthfulclarity and challenge that made Joe swallow hard: He'd realized, atthat moment, that the very depths of his soul would be totallyrevealed to one mere observant glance from the limpid depths studyinghim in wordless confidence.

Joe was literally struck dumb at the moment, unable to formanother word, held speechless with amazement, disbelief, unexpectedrelief, reassurance, and not a little incidence of cold-sweat . . .fear. Still, the gracious . . . humanity . . . in those eyes beforehim reached far into his heart and generously planted a seed of trusthe'd never expected, nor would be able to deny.

"Samantha has told me of your help, Mr. Maxwell. How can I everthank you for coming to Diana's aid?"

The words were soft and earnest, ringing with true, uncolored,gratitude. Joe took them to heart, instantly, in spite of himself,letting them override any prior doubts he might have still harbored.He miraculously found his voice. "I'm just glad she could get hold ofme when she needed help. We're friends. I couldn't turn my back onher."

There was more defensive explanation than humility in his reply,he was startled to own up to. Still, when Joe heard Diana's laboredexclamation of Vincent's name a second later, the DA knew surelythere was nothing whatever left to doubt or fear. Her voice, callingher husband's name, resonated with total, complete, trust, andundying love.

Vincent quit his place near their unexpected companion and came toDiana's side in one fluid, graceful sweep of cloak and obviouslycompelling devotion. Joe felt his heart undeniably swell withconflicting emotion at the sight of the astounding figure gently,softly, gathering the young mother in an embrace to his powerfulbody, kissing first her damp forehead and cheeks with eloquentreassurance, then accepting the sweet tenderness of her expectantmouth in a cherished and apparently familiar physical gifting thattook Joe's breath away. He had to turn aside at that, his sympatheticspirit urging him to leave the two of them some momentary privacy intheir relieved, intimate, acknowledgement of one another.

These were two souls who would live and die in the shelter of eachother's love.

There was no other conclusion for the DA to draw from themoment.

Diana became totally renewed in her husband's arms, speaking in atorrent of words she'd had no energy to form just a few minutes ago."I didn't know what to do . . . I wasn't certain the baby was cominguntil it was too late to get back on our own. Oh, Vincent! I'm soglad you're here!"

Long-fingered, fur-covered, and taloned, hands, gently strokedback her disarrayed auburn hair from her ethereal face with love.That silken voice whispered understanding reassurances in a steadyingrhythm of comfort. "It's all right, Diana. Our little one is simplyin a hurry to be with us. We'll be able to help her along her wayhere. All that matters is that you both, and Jacob and Samantha, aresafe." Then, with a truly penitent, downcast glance, he offered, "Ifthere is blame to place, it is mine to accept. I urged you to goAbove."

Another contraction swept over Diana even as her husband held herin his embrace. He pulled her close, lifted her arms around his neck,trying to draw her past her distress. "Don't be afraid, my love."Vincent's eyes caressed hers, sought to will her strength. "Let meshare this with you. Hold tight to me. Don't bear the pain alone --I'm here."

The relief, even in the midst of her pain, was undeniable, asDiana drew her trembling hand over the majestic, concerned featuresholding hers with so much sweetness. "I was afraid . . . you'd notmake it here . . . before the baby."

"I would have done anything to be here for you," came the quietreply that was unshakable in its commitment. Joe swallowed hard..

For a long, trembling instant, Diana was totally overwhelmed bythe strengthening power of the natural forces within her weary andspent body. The emerald eyes darkened with undeniable pain andanxiety, but then, somehow, she managed to give herself over to thesoothing sound of her husband's voice, the comfort of his touch, andthe trembling left her. Vincent gently eased her back down to thefloor, kissed her hand in his, and set it softly back onto theirchild.

"How far apart are the contractions?" Joe found himself beingaddressed by an unexpectedly assured voice.

"Maybe two, three minutes now. They've gotten longer, too." Hecouldn't help the anxiety seeping into his words. "They've beenintense all along."

"Then we'll simply have to bring this little one into the worldright here," came the matter-of-fact conclusion. Still, it wasfollowed by a hopeful plea. "Joe, I could use your help."

The DA was close to speechless again, after being so pointedly,and trustingly, addressed. Any last vestiges of hesitation anduncertainty were instantly sent their way out of his spirit. "Whatcan I do?"

"Give me a minute to get Diana a bit more settled, and I'll showyou." Vincent turned back to his wife.

At the quiet request, the DA took a few steps further down thetunnel, marveling inwardly at a presence that could take intoconsideration his wife's modesty at such a chaotic moment. The partof himself that still was overwhelmed by the unreality of it allcaused Joe to look back over his shoulder despite the request forspace, as he sought to find some evidence that all this was indeedhappening where it was happening, how it was happening, and to whomit was happening. Along with the fact that he himself had been thrustby Fate into the midst of it.

Yet, if Joe required some proof of the beyond reality of it all,he was offered nothing less than a purely beautiful, human, and,real, sight to ponder over: He beheld a husband, only a husband, bentover his laboring wife in tender, solicitious care.

Vincent slid the generous folds of his heavy cloak from off hisshoulders, then swept it over Diana's weary form. She let thefamiliar scent of it soothe her, the warmth envelope her softly. Withquiet patience, her husband slipped her leather boots off her feet,then gently eased her out of her long skirt. Her bare, coltish legs,beneath his own garment, were cold, and trembling, a sure sign ofadvanced labor.

A moment later, Joe was called back to the foot of the stairway.He noticed Vincent obviously favoring his left side in his movementsnow, something that hadn't been apparent before. Joe felt compelledto ask, a sudden wave of unaccustomed sympathy for this remarkablefigure washing over him. "Are you all right?"

A gentle, warm liveliness filled the breathtaking eyes, carryingthem beyond evident pain. "I will be, as soon as this child is safelydelivered."

The words were shaded with just the barest evidence of uncertainexasperation that Joe wasn't quite sure he'd actually heard what hehad: The comment was that of any anxious father-to-be, eager to getpast the emotional onslaught of birth himself. Nothing morethreatening, or unearthly, than that.

"You know what you're doing then," came the automatic reply, bornof Joe's own abundant frustration with the whole situation.

Vincent looked up from where he held Diana's arm, taking herpulse, and read, at once, the apprehension in the other man's face.He nodded in reassurance. "I've helped deliver several of thechildren in our community."

Joe flustered a moment at his obvious lapse of trust, butsurprisingly, it was Diana who comforted him with gentle words. "I'min good hands, Maxwell, between the two of you."

Kneeling beside her then as well, the DA took heart. "What do youneed me to do, Vincent?"

Releasing Diana's wrist, the mythic figure began to roll up thesleeves of his shirt. Joe's eyes couldn't help but settle onto thearms and hands fully revealed by his companion's movements. Thefingers quickly rolling the fabric up forearms covered in coarse,auburn hair, were tipped with -- claws -- the only way to describethe strong, pointed nails.

The thought passed through Joe's mind, unbidden, that those handsand nails had been capable of . . . shredding . . . human flesh. Themoment, though, that Vincent had ceased working up his sleeves, hesettled one of those deadly hands onto the pale porcelain of Diana'scheek. She received the caress with tender gratitude, turning herface into it. Joe's thoughts pulled free of the past of their ownvolition at the sight.

"I know you are beyond exhaustion, Diana, but we'll need you tofind some strength to push when the time comes." The words weregently urging and understanding.

"I'll try." The steady response took new strength.

"We'll need something warm to wrap the baby in." Joe realizedVincent was ticking off aloud his mental preparation for one oflife's more chaotic, uncontrollable events with cool professionalism.It eased his own colliding emotions, clearing his thinking. Takingnote then that the heavy cloak was already in use, as was his owncoat, and that Diana's skirt was soaked, Joe drew off his suit jacketand folded it up into a nesting garment.

"Here, you can use this." Handing it over to the powerful figurenow stooped over his wife's side, the DA was graced with anotheracknowledging look of grateful respect. The jacket was carefully setdown on an edge of the cloak. Joe's own sleeves then came up his armsas he rolled them out of the way, too.

"We'll need to make Diana's pushing as effective as possible. Shewon't be able to stand too much of it in her present state."Carefully lifting the young mother partially off the tunnel floor,Vincent resettled her into his companion's arms. "When she pushes,help her to raise herself up. She can grip my hands for leverage, andhopefully we can keep her focused and progressing. It won't be longnow, I'm sure. She's fully dilated."

All Joe could manage to say was, "right," as he found himselfmarveling at what was obviously a situation Vincent was completelyknowledgeable of. There was nothing but trust in Diana's emeraldeyes, shining now from more than just sheer exhaustion and pain. Theconnection between her and her husband, unspoken and profound, wastotally apparent at the moment.

Vincent was pulling the shoelace from his heavy boot when thefirst expelling contraction coursed through Diana's body. Joe felther stiffen in his arms, a ragged gasp releasing from her throat. Herhusband caught both her hands, small and slender, into his greatones.

"That's it, Diana, let your body do its work. Come on, my love.Find your strength."

Suddenly, the weary, frail body pulled itself fully out of Joe'sarms, holding fast to Vincent's hands in trembling exertion. Joequickly shifted his position to support her. "Oh, God!" he heard herexclaim at the onslaught of new sensations.

The DA suddenly couldn't bring himself to hold sight of thestruggling mother. The sheer force of her overwhelming physicalbesiegement was more than he could bear. He closed his eyes andinstinctively whispered a plea to the heavens for help, not exactlycertain whether it was for Diana's benefit or his own. The unexpectedrealization that he might, himself, at some future point in time, besharing such an intimately terrifying, incredulous moment with Ritaas his wife, urged him, however, to take heart. At least he'd beinitiated into the unstoppable wonder of nature's most miraculousprocess, he thought in his defensive humor.

Forcing his attention back to the moment at hand, Joe felt Dianaslump heavily against him as the contraction lessened its hold onher. That she'd even survived the onslaught to her now, seemingly, sofrail body was beyond comprehension. Yet, there was an expectant,though weary, hope, shining through her eyes. Hell, Joe thought,she's not even letting this all terrify her anymore. He felt hediscovered the elusive reason why when he let his gaze rest onVincent opposite her, still holding both her hands.

There was the unmistakable sheen of perspiration moistening hisunique features, a barely discernible trembling coursing through hispowerful form. He closed his own intense eyes and took in a deep,steadying breath . . . and Joe felt that, for all the world, Vincentappeared as though he'd just actually, bodily, shared in his wife'spain.

The breath, though, promptly stopped Vincent short in abbreviatedbesiegement of his own. It took a long moment before the mysticalface returned to a calm deliberateness. Leaning then close to Diana'sexhausted form, he spoke softly to her. "That was good, my love. Resta minute now. You're doing fine."

A shaking, long-fingered hand took hold of his taloned one on herwet cheek with the grateful abandon of a drowning man being offered apassing branch just within reach that he could hold fast to. Dianadrew strength from the contact, but Joe noted, in apprehension, thatVincent's own body still seemed assailed by involuntary tremors ofobvious distress.

The force with which the young mother had pulled herself up withhis arms must have aggravated Vincent's wounds, the DA guessed,preferring to settle onto the most plausible explanation of what he'djust witnessed transpire between the couple before him. Joe was aboutto suggest that he should be allowed to become Diana's point ofleverage, bearing the brunt of the physical exertion in her nextcontraction, and thus, save her injured husband further strain on hisobviously still tenuous state of health. But a clear plea for silencetook hold of Joe's attention from the depths of those azure eyes.

They spoke an unmistakable appeal to keep his pain from his wife'sawareness. Joe never considered saying another word about it, stunnedinto silence at the selfless love exhibited by a beyond human beingfor an amber-haired angel in distress.

A moment or two later, Vincent's own turmoil had been pulled underhis control, finally, leaving behind little evidence of its passagebeyond a continued tentativeness in his movements. Quickly heexamined the baby's progress from the contraction, but as he wasdoing so, Diana was hit, full force, by another erratic spasm thattore into her body. "It's all right, Diana. Let it come. Take myarm."

The seemingly fragile young woman heaved her until then limp formup to a near-sitting position by drawing herself forcefully onto herhusband's right arm. Vincent urged her gently, insistently, with hisreassuring words: "Exhale deeply. Work with the force."

Letting the sound of his voice guide her, Vincent centered hisobservation now on the new life working its way to join them. Analmost incredulous acknowledgement announced his child's state. "Thebaby's crowning! You're doing fine, Diana. Hold on as long as youcan."

A sudden and unexpected sound -- pain, fear, exhaustion, broken bywonderfilled -- relief -- pulled free from Diana's throat. She echoedher husband's words softly, in gratitude, "The baby's crowning." Alook of blessed anticipation swept over her ravaged features.

Yet, while the sound of Diana's joy still filled his heart, Joewatched, in startled, panicked . . . horror . . . as the colorsuddenly drained completely out of Vincent's face.

Diana collapsed back down against the DA's embrace again, and Joeprayed a silent, grateful supplication of his own, for the fact she'dnot apparently seen her husband's reaction to whatever it was he nowhad perceived in her, and the baby's condition, in plainly visible,desperate . . . fear.

"Joe, I need you here beside me. Now." The tone of voice wascontrolled and quietly instructing, giving nothing away, but the lookon Vincent's face about took Joe's soul from out of his being. The DApassed a worried glance to Diana as he set her down completely to thefloor, but her enveloping weariness had caused her to momentarilywithdraw deeply within herself once more, mercifully so.

Vincent's attention again became intent on what he was perceivingwithin the birth process of his child. He wouldn't simply trust hissight to give him the details he needed, having, at this point in thelabor, to actually feel, gently, but anxiously, the baby's trueposition to confirm his conclusion. The long-fingered hands probedsoftly, and then he found himself swallowing hard at what he'ddetected. The azure eyes closed an instant as he sought to steady hisheart.

Coming to crouch beside the powerful figure that had called tohim, Joe was shocked to find his hand grasped, insistently, andguided to beneath the wool cloak blanketing Diana's form. "Takegentle hold here, Joe. Even pressure," came the hoarse instructionsthe DA wasn't certain he understood.

Unsure of what was happening, but nevertheless acutely aware ofthe urgency in Vincent's manner, Joe asked quietly, "What is it?What's wrong?" even as he felt the furred hand close his own fingersaround . . . something . . . a quivering, warm, smooth, cordlikeextension . . . of flesh.

Recoiling a moment at the unexpected sensation, he let go, butthen felt Vincent's powerful grip urge his own again around the cord.It was difficult for him to do, keep hold of the unfamiliarprotusion, as there seemed to be a great deal of tension on it,pulling it back away from him, and his own hand with it. There seemedto be barely enough give for Joe's two fingers and thumb to takegentle hold of it.

Looking up into the deep eyes now obviously shadowed with anxiety,the DA sought an explanation wordlessly, knowing somehow already thatVincent was attempting not to alarm Diana. Luckily she was still deepwithin herself at the moment: Joe doubted she barely still knew whereshe was, let alone was capable of hearing what was being said inhurried, anxious whispers between the two men.

"The cord has prolapsed."

Seeing the bewildered look in Joe's face, Vincent explainedhimself without the medical terminology. "The umbilical cord hasdropped into the birth canal ahead of the baby. It usually simplytrails out behind."

Joe felt the tension on his fingertips ease a bit as Vincent's ownfingers sought to follow just how the cord lay across the child'semerging body. Then came a further explanation which the unlikelymedical assistant could have done without. "It is impeding theprogress of the labor, collapsing with every contraction."

A return of pressure came to his hand as Vincent withdrew his ownfrom his gentle probing. The pain in the father's eyes saideverything he could not find the courage to say. Joe had to seek outthe words, instead, which he fought to utter: "The baby's introuble?"

Vincent nodded slowly and Joe felt his heart snap in two when hecaught sight of tears shimmering in the limpid blue eyes before him."The compresions cut off the baby's blood, and oxygen, supply."

A nauseous wave of cold comprehension battered Joe at thatinstant, as the reality of the situation forced its way into hisunderstanding. Every inch of progress the child was making towardsdelivery was being turned, instead, into a threat, robbing the babyof its very life's breath.

"Can you do anything?" came the question that couldn't help butsound pleadingly.

Vincent looked long at the spent form of his beloved wife, thenclosed his eyes and released an anguished sigh. "Ordinarily, if theimpediment of labor is seriousness enough, a Ceasarean would beperformed to take the child."

A surgical procedure. Down here, in a drainage tunnel. Joe's ownblood turned to ice at the obvious impossibility of that scenario.Then the continued explanation caught him totally off guard. "If wewere close enough to get Diana to the hospital chamber quickly, therewould be little risk. Father has delivered one or two of our childrenin such a manner. But here . . . "

Pulling himself past the surprising reality that somewhere downhere there was a doctor, and a hospital, of sorts, Joe questionedwith quiet anxiousness, "Is there something else that can bedone?"

"We can try to keep the baby from entangling itself in the cord,help the bloodflow from becoming compressed with the contractions."Another look of . . . desperate . . . anguish was lifted to Diana'sexhausted form. "She is in so much pain with each spasm," Vincentwhispered, barely holding back the tears in his eyes. "The cord mustbe already quite shortened, without enough give. It is tearing her upinside."

For an instant, what was left unsaid reverberated with deafeninghorror against the stone walls surrounding them. Both men sought totake hold of their respectively shattering hearts at the thoughtneither would voice: the fact that Diana could be in as much jeopardyas her baby.

"Vincent!" Diana's hoarse, but insistent call pulled the men backfrom the overwhelming thoughts of impending threat that each wasbattling in his own way. In a moment, a besieged father, coming togrips with the possibility of loss once again, came to kneel besidehis cherished wife, taking her clutching hand and drawing it close tohis heart.

"Vincent, something's wrong, isn't it? Something's wrong with thebaby." The soft, pleading voice took wrenching hold of her husband'sheart.

"She's going to need some help, Diana." Before another word couldpass between them, a startling slash of pain tore through the youngmother's womb again, signalling yet one more attempt from her body tobring her child to birth. The agony was evident within the astonishedemerald eyes that bled tears echoing her pain, but Diana fought pasther own anguish to make herself heard to her husband at her side.

"The baby's dying! God, Vincent, I can . . . feel her . . .struggling! Please help her!"

In total abandoned despair, the young woman clasped her husband'sarm with a deathgrip of her own, releasing a scream that echoed downthe tunnels and shattered into sobbing tears.

"Joe, try to keep a clearance for the cord!" came the urgentdirection at the confounded DA equally anxious to be of some smallmeasure of help. "Try to keep the slack from being taken back up. Wemust relieve the child." Joe immediately did as he was told, gentlyholding the pulsing cord as best as he could away from thecompressing pressure working against it. He could feel the baby'sbody straining.

A moment later, the power of the contraction heaved Diana off thetunnel floor. Vincent took possession of both her shouldersforcefully. "Listen to me, Diana!" came the desperate plea that wasbarely heard over a mother's terror. "You must not push with thiscontraction. We have to try to let the baby free herself up."

The trembling young woman was frantic with fear. "Vincent shecan't breathe. I can feel it!"

Her husband shook her once, aching to turn her from her anguish."Listen to me! You have to absorb this contraction, Diana. Don'tpush!"

"I haven't the strength to hold it back," came the weary,whispered confession, heavy with guilt. The tears were streaming downDiana's chalky white cheeks. She clung in panic to her husband'sarms, barely able to withstand the forces of inhibited natureattempting wildly to pull free from within her. The pain convulsedher until she could bear it no longer, another scream of her ownanguish her only release.

Still holding to the cord, trying to allow it some freedom ofpassage with his fingers, Joe was thrown into his own nightmarishconfusion, as the tension working against him became tight enough tomake the pulse in his own fingertips stand out throbbing. He couldactually feel the baby's downy hair against the cord where he heldit, evidence that the child's emergence was, at the very least,pushing right against its own lifeline. But there was nowhere thatJoe could feel he could slip the cord past the baby's way. It was tootightly held back. "Vincent, I can't free it up at all."

The powerful figure kept the slender, trembling form of hisgrief-stricken wife in a fierce embrace at the words. "You can dothis, Diana," he ordered her to believe. "Look at me!"

The pain-glazed eyes darkened with hopelessness, then somehowmanaged to latch on to the raw power of her husband's gaze. That gazesoftened perceptively when he realized he'd gained her attentiontotally at last.

"Give me your pain, my love, please! Let me help you bear it."

The words were cracking with emotion. A shaking nod of her headwas his response.

Joe couldn't believe he was witnessing what he was, at the moment,either, his attention torn between the ever-tightening cord cuttingoff his, and the baby's pulse, and the compelling, near-mysticaldrama being played out before his eyes:

Vincent locked his heartstopping gaze to his wife's, willing herattempt to diffuse the power of the contraction away from herdistressed child. She was shuddering violently, gripping his shirtfiercely, but she held to her husband's intense gaze as she would toa lifeline, for both her child and herself.

After a moment, Vincent's eyes slowly released hers. As they camecompletely closed, she watched the golden-maned head drop wearilyagainst her own sweat-drenched brow. Joe was transfixed at theexchange between husband and wife -- The shuddering pain seemed to bevisibly, in stages, drawing itself from the battered woman's body tofind its way into the forceful figure of her husband.

The tense endurance left Diana's pale features slowly, as she feltthe agony pull away from her battered body, to be replaced within herbeloved's exotic, love-washed form. A soft warmth, instead, took itsplace, slowly, sheltering her. Her erratic breathing settled at last,as Vincent's own became ragged. A gentle, besieged . . . peace . . .returned to her features as her husband's body fought to findstrength to accept the burden he'd begged her to share with him.

After an eternity of a moment, Joe felt the tension of thethrobbing cord ease back from his hand, and the baby's body. "It'sloosening up," he announced, in exhausted relief himself.

Vincent gently eased Diana back down to the tunnel floor withtrembling tenderness at the pronouncement. She cupped both her handsaround his beloved face, the reality of what he had helped her endureevident in his strained features. Somehow she was able to at lastform the words: "I can feel her heart again. She's okay. Our baby'sokay."

"Yes . . . I can feel it, too," Vincent sighed in total, gratefulrelease. He took only a few seconds to attempt to gather himself backto the necessity at hand. Kissing Diana delicately on the forehead,he then pulled himself with evident painful effort back to Joe'sside.

That reluctant assistant knelt, momentarily spellbound, at thedisplay of empathic devotion he'd just witnessed. He couldn't haveseen what he had, yet, there was no way to deny what had happened.Silently, Joe berated himself for misjudging Diana's situationearlier in the evening.

He had been so wrong, so completely wrong, concluding that theremight not be any sort of connection between the two souls before him.My God! he realized in disbelieving humility: Vincent had actuallybeen able to draw within himself his wife's physical pain. The two ofthem had even touched to the essence of their unborn child betweenthem, Diana, as much as her husband. Did words even exist for him todescribe such a shared awareness of love?

Vincent sighed softly as he again took in the baby's position."We'll need to cut the cord with the next contraction," he announced,almost reluctantly.

"Why not now?" the DA couldn't help but ask, the thought of thestruggling child sending his heart lurching. Why couldn't they justfree the baby, now that they knew she was momentarily safe?

"The child hasn't progressed far enough to assure delivery withoutintervention. If we cut the cord before time, she can still slip backinto the birth canal . . . and then she'd be left without her . . .lifesource . . . as well."

The quiet words were ones that Joe had never even considered, andhe couldn't believe that Vincent had found the strength to speak themaloud. It was still possible to lose the baby, no matter what they'dbe able to do. Joe felt his throat constrict. They were God knew howfar from a doctor, with only their wits and their courage left tooffer a struggling new life . . . and they could still lose her. Hefound the tears beginning to sting within his own eyes, and hesilently prayed that Vincent would be able to do the right thing forhis child when the time came.

The DA had little opportunity to contemplate just when that momentmight be, because his reverie was interrupted by Diana's gasp at thebeginning of yet another devastating contraction. This time Vincentdid not try to keep her from pushing with her natural instincts.

"It's all right, Diana. Let it come now," he called to her,without losing sight of what he was quickly, expertly in the processof doing: tying off the somewhat slackened cord between Joe's splayedfingers, in two places, with his shoelace. As the power of thecontraction continued to gain its force, and the baby's emergentstraining became aparent once more, Vincent shut his eyes aninstance, taking hold of his courage. Then, with the skill of asurgeon wielding a scalpel, he slit through the cord at the smallplace that had been freed of tension, with the sharp claw of his leftindex finger.

For a terrifying moment, the baby's tiny shoulders slid into, andthen back out of, Vincent's gentle grasp, but then the coursingmuscle spasm of the contraction expelled the child freely at last.Vincent took hold of the small body tenderly, and pulled the babyinto his awaiting arms.

Diana's pleading came the instant she caught her breath enough tospeak. "Is she all right? Is she, Vincent?"

There was no response.

Dragging herself up to a sitting position, Diana reached out tocling to Joe's arm. He immediately threw his embrace completely abouther, drawing her to his body, in an attempt to keep her from seeingwhat he himself couldn't find the power to bear. But the young motherpushed herself forcefully, desperately, from his sheltering arms . ..

. . . To watch her husband gently unwrapping the umbilical cordfrom round their baby's neck.

It was the reason that the cord had been so tense and short duringher labor: The length of it was looped around the child's throat.

Words, hoarsely whispered, not to be believed, echoed thedevastation within a mother's heart. "No . . . God, no . . . Youcan't . . . why? . . . God, why? . . . "

Why?

Could a reason even exist to explain why yet another blow had beenleveled at the besieged spirits, husband and wife, that remainedheart-shattered and stunned in a stone tunnel far beneath a city'sstreets? Was there actually a necessity that could be understood forending a tiny life that spoke nothing but hope to those that hadanticipated its arrival with so much love and joy?

Joe's shattered heart stumbled itself in its automatic attempt toreach a tiny bit of comfort out to the ravaged young woman hesheltered in his embrace. But his conscious attention was rivettedonto Vincent . . . and the still, blue body of his child in hiscareful grasp.

It was a little girl.

A beautiful, healthy-sized little baby girl, with long stronglimbs and an unexpected halo of downy, golden red hair. She wouldhave looked like a little china doll, except that she was totallystill, cold, and devoid of any sign of life whatever.

Slow, silent tears slipped down a beyond human face, etched withso much grief and pain it was physically unendurable to behold. Forthe longest moment, Vincent knelt, staring down at the little body hecradled gently in his powerful grasp. Unable to come to terms withwhat he knew he was seeing. He gasped for breath at last, threw hishead back to plead at the stone ceiling above them, and then simplyclosed his eyes in resigned, aching loss.

Another heartbeat stilled. Another beloved soul wrenched from hisloving shelter.

This time he would let his own heart follow the tiny one intosilence. Begged deaf heaven for it to follow. God . . . still minetoo!

Why struggle to hope any longer? It had all only been animpossible dream. He'd believed his existence had at last beenblessed by the peaceful fulfillment of love and humanity and giftinglife, but the illusion had been snatched away again.

And he didn't have the strength to fight the hopeless desolationany longer, a desperate weariness of his very soul taking hold of himand shaking him to his depths. He willed his heart to be still.

Then it would ache no longer.

But as he let his anguished spirit begin to pull away from thepain, slip silently into welcomed, crushing, oblivion, Vincent feltan agony as intense as his own reach out to him, take possesion ofhis heart, searching for release. It was Diana's pain, the profoundreaches of her spirit infused with an anguish he couldn't believe wasable to exist.

It was a mother's pain, and its depths reached so far within hischerished wife's essence that it stood ready to annihilate her verysoul .

She had lost her child, the life that she'd tenderly nurturedwithin her own body for nine months. The pleading ache, bereft of allhope, pierced his heart, drew him from beyond his own pain. He'dnever known such loss, felt such devastation, even within his ownagonized grief for Catherine.

Diana would be drowned within it.

At the empathic evidence of his wife's desperation, Vincent willedhis heart to pull back a breath from his own pain, sought to touchher soul instead with some tiny particle of relief. He would not lethis need for solace and rest rob him of Diana's care, of his chanceto hold her heart to him in her need. She'd not let him surrender todesolation. Now was his opportunity to do the same for her. And indoing so, he acknowledged the fact that he might yet be able to reachlife back out to the tiny soul resting in his arms as well.

Some guiding angel of heaven helped him to gather his besiegedspirit back from its anguished reality, forcing it, instead, into afervant, not-to-be-denied battle for life.

For all of them. A whispered prayer brought his mind back into thepractical responses his emergency training had, until a few momentbefore, helped him see Diana through the unexpected traumas of herlabor ordeal.

There was still a chance.

Only a moment or two had actually elapsed since he'd taken hold ofhis little one, though the anguish of heart of her apparent loss hadmade it seem like an eternity.

He took a deep, mind-clearing breath, and casting a quick gazeabout him, Vincent caught sight of the handkerchief Joe had used towipe the blood from Diana's cut lip earlier. He knew what he couldtry . . . a little soul still would not let go of his hope.

Gently cradling the baby into the crook of his arm, he quicklywrapped his littlest finger on one hand with the cloth several times,carefully covering the sharp tip of his nail. Then he eased back thebaby's head a bit and slowly slipped his finger into the littlegirl's mouth, using the fabric to wipe out the mucus that was stillobstructing the child's airway.

With an unwhispered prayer, Vincent then softly lowered his goldenhead to the baby's tiny form, covering its mouth and nose with hiscleft lips, puffing gently into the child's mouth, offering her hisown life-giving breath.

Joe felt the tears race down his cheeks as he held tightly toDiana's spent, sobbing form in his arms. "Please God, let him bringher back," he prayed fervantly, with every fiber of his tested soul,knowing for certain that his plea was echoing that within both theother hearts there with him.

The little chest visibly rose and fell, but only in response toher father's breathing. Vincent continued his rescuing effortsundeterred, forcing his attention to remain focused beyond his griefand to the life-giving intervention he was attempting at hand. Heoffered his baby one small breath, then another, and another, feelingDiana's trembling soul hold to his in fearful expectation aswell.

Then . . . finally . . . he felt the . . . miracle.

His daughter's little heart clamoring within his own once more, asit had been so easily evident within his awareness all the monthsthat Diana's body had sheltered her.

The baby spasmed in his arms.

She drew in a sharp, deep draught of her father's breath . . . andexpelled it at last on her own, with the familiar, high-pitched,vibrating cry of a newborn.

Diana drew her head from Joe's chest at the sound, afraid tobelieve she'd heard it. But, as she raised her tear-blurred gaze toher husband, she felt the heartbeat within her, too, and saw,actually was able to gaze at, a shuddering little body that hecradled pulling itself, indeed, into the world of the living.

A mother's desperation was turned to grateful, ecstatic abandonwith that heartbeat, and Vincent blessed heaven that he'd been ableto both draw his tiny daughter back to life as well as hold hisbeloved soulmate safe from anguish.

The baby's color began to brighten instantly, progressing from theterrifying purple to a soon noticeably flushed pink. Her cries, loud,insistent, and filling with energy, proved, too, her undeniablearrival into their midst. The tears streaming from Diana's eyes werea flood of joy that found an echoing kinship in those gently slippingfrom her husband's azure ones.

Quickly, deadly, taloned hands carefully settled the little girlinto a suitcoat that would serve as her swaddling. But those samehands that had been steady as any neurosurgeon's at Columbia, onlyminutes before, unexpectedly trembled as Vincent sought to retie hisdaughter's umbilical closer to her small body. Joe leaned over themboth and knotted the shoelace farther up, without a word. A look ofquiet gratitude passed from mythic features to the unashamedlyconcerned ones, then another, more steady attempt recut the child'scord properly with a sharp nail.

A tender kiss to a small, furrowed brow, and a new father wrappedhis youngest child up to stay warm, offered her the most hopefulwords he could ever have imagined uttering at that moment: "Welcome,little angel."

The lung-expanding protests, voicing her displeasure at her rudelyushered entrance into the world, were the sweetest sounds created, toVincent's ears. Softly he placed his precious bundle into hermother's awaiting arms, the reassuring touch of a clawed, furred handover warm, silky baby fat, the warmth of a mother's familiar,sheltering body, quieting the child in a matter of moments.Brilliant, blue-green eyes opened wide, in silent observation of hernew surroundings.

"Oh, she's beautiful, Vincent. Isn't she?" Diana asked in totallyunobjective wonder, punctuated by both tears and joy.

"Just like her mother," came the softly voiced observation,equally tinged with tender awe. Vincent came to sit beside his wifeand child, then, gathering them both into his arms. He kissed Diana'sauburn-crowned head.

"This little lady will count herself doubly blessed in life," Joecommented, reaching a hand out to the now robustly-blushed cheek ofthe child he'd helped deliver. "She can thank both her mother, andher father, for giving her life."

Diana took in the tender, acknowledging hope in her friend'swords. "And she can thank her wonderful godfather, too, " she smiled.Vincent nodded in agreement.

For a long few moments, the three adult souls did their best togather their besieged

wits about them, past fear, pain, and total, sheer, exhaustion.The soft cooing of another, smaller soul, sounded as balm to theirtested spirits.

"Dear Lord!" came an accented voice from down the tunnel a way.Joe couldn't quite place the distinguished tones drawing slowlynearer, but he knew, without a doubt, that the voie was not foreignto him. Pulling himself reluctantly away from the tunnel wall, hepeered down into the softly lit reaches beyond them.

An older man, dressed in piecemeal, but somehow, elegant,medieval-looking attire, was leaning on a walking crutch, making hisway to them. He was closely followed by two younger men carrying alitter, similarly dressed, and a middle-aged woman with knottedgreying hair and quiet, gentle features.

The elder man turned to the woman in incredulous realization. "Itold you, Mary, that I heard a baby's cry. Good heavens! The child isborn already."

Joe knew now from where the familiar voice rested in his memory:Three years ago, an eccentric, elder man in a 35-year old suit, hadtwice approached him with cryptic information early in theinvestigation of Catherine's death. He'd even appeared to assure theDA of Diana's safety, directing him to her, after she'd disappearedat gunpoint with Gabriel's men one night.

Jacob Wells.

"Father. Come see your new granddaughter," Diana urged with quietpride.

Their new arrival immediately struggled down to the floor of thetunnel beside Diana, at the moment oblivious to everything other thanthe baby in her arms. A warm, paternal smile graced the carewornfeatures as he gently slipped a loving hand over the little girl'sdowny amber hair. About to say something, he couldn't quite come upwith the words, so many emotions converging within him, knotting uphis stomach. Joe caught sight of grey eyes misting over suddenlywithout shame.

The sweet-spirited older woman leaned beside Jacob's shoulder,though, grasping it with gentle possession, then proceeded toobviously speak for the both of them. "Oh, she's a little lamb,Diana! What a treasure, Vincent!"

At mention of the new father's name, the older man pulled freefrom the hypnotic joy of holding the child in his gaze, resting itinstead, immediately, onto the exotic features of Vincent's wearyface with an uninhibited scowl.

"And what in heaven's name are you doing all the way here? You aresupposed to be recuperating, resting, not . . . "

" . . . not bringing my child into the world?" came anunexpectedly, quietly challenging tone. The older man was about toprotest the obvious afront to his authority when he broke out into aninfectious laugh that was part mumbled reprimand, and part distinctlyBritish humor.

"I suppose we'll need to overlook your lapse in good sense, then,won't we?"

Finally seeming to take in Joe's presence within the aparentlyfamilial group, Jacob addressed him, too. "Mr. Maxwell. It's obviouswe need to acknowledge your part in this unexpected drama, as well.Thank you for your help, truly. Samantha told us of how you came tocare for Diana Above."

Joe felt a warmth drift over him at the accepting reception he wasreceiving from these people, strangers, in fact, under the mostchaotic of circumstances, but offering him a sense of acknowledgingwelcome that he could scarcely put into words. "I'm glad I could bethere for her," was all he could say.

Nodding, Father turned back to the older woman he'd addressed as,"Mary, " and had her hand him a venerable, old-fashioned medical bag."We'd better check these two ladies out, make certain everyone is allright." Fitting a stethoscope around his neck, he turned to the babyheld closely in Diana's arms. "Any problems with the delivery?" heasked automatically.

For an instant, Vincent and his beloved looked deeply into eachother's gaze. Joe watched as tears began to form in his colleague'seyes, but a tender hand, otherworldly, stroked her cheek in quietreassurance. "We had to coax her into breathing for a moment or two.The cord prolapsed."

Father stopped in mid-action as he was uncovering the little girlfrom the jacket swaddling her. It was then that he took in a startledbreath, his trained eyes not missing the faint bruising around thebaby's neck. Turning a suddenly anquished gaze to his son, thephysician asked in an unsteady whisper, "Was she in distresslong?"

Vincent only managed to close his eyes defensively against theimage of his lifeless child in his hands. It was Diana who respondedsoftly, "Vincent rescussitated her."

Quickly, adept hands went over the little girl, meticulouslyexamining her state. Mary eased over to Vincent's side then andpressed a gentle, reassuring grasp onto his arm. "She seems fine now.That's what is important. And Diana, dear child! You must becompletely exhausted. We need to get you both home and settled. Here,let me help you."

With gentle expertise of her own, the caring elder woman reachedinto a basket of her supplies, withdrawing a sealed flask of waterwhich she used to moisten a small towel, slipping it tenderly overDiana's drawn face. She didn't miss the total weariness of the youngmother's demeanor, despite her obvious joy at her child's safedelivery. It spoke of pain beyond that normal and expected inchildbirth. Another clean, cool cloth offered a bit of water toparched lips, one of which was even cut and swollen.

"I believe we'll need to keep an eye on both mother and daughterfor a few days, just to be safe," came Father's directive, as he tookDiana's blood pressure. There was a generous current of tender,respectful affection in his gentle ministrations to the young motherwho'd just withstood the trauma of a crisis delivery. She respondedsilently in kind, and the elder physician found himself needing verymuch to be cloaked within his parental and medical authority lest hetotally lose his composure.

"You'll need complete bed rest, my child, and not a protestingpeep out of you," he admonished quickly, glaring at her husband,nevertheless blessing heaven that his headstrong son had circumventedhis directives this evening to come to the young woman's aid.

Meekly, but gratefully, Diana replied, "Yes, Father."

His preliminary exams complete, Jacob indicated that the two youngmen who'd accompanied him should now bring the litter to withinreach. Vincent knelt closely beside Diana then, and before anyoneelse could reach a hand out to her, he'd lifted his beloved onto thestretcher, a caress to her face gently expressing everything withinhis heart to her. Mary settled the baby safely beside her, in hersheltering embrace. The sight of relieved wonder across etherealfeatures took Vincent's breath away. Only his heart spoke the wordsto her, feeling them echoing back to him: "I love you."

As the litter bearers began to make their way back down thetunnel, Mary turned to address Joe with confident ease. "You willcome along with us, Mr. Maxwell? You must be tired, and hungry,too."

Joe was at a loss for an immediate answer. As far as he couldunderstand it, the mystery of this tunnel world had been kept fromhim for a good six years, first by Catherine, and then by Dianaherself. Now he was being casually asked to delve deeper into Godknew where by a woman who looked so much like his great aunt Serafinaand sounded so much like his mother admonishing him to take bettercare of himself? He did the only thing he could, at the moment: Helooked to Vincent for an answer.

And the powerful, mythic being that once had haunted Joe'sconsciousness as a shadowy avenger actually needed to look to JacobWells -- to his father -- for permission to respond in theaffirmative -- a man half his size and twice his age, with all theintimidating presence about him of an Oxford professor in histwilight years. But, obviously, "Father" was indeed capable ofinspiring even a mythic protector's respect, though Joe got thefeeling that Mary could sweetly work her way around even thatpatriarch's authority at will. After all, it was she who had issuedthe invitation.

The elder physician let a soft, welcoming smile radiate out to theDA after just a moment's calm contemplation. He knew where he reallystood, after all, within the hierarchy of the tunnel community. "Ibelieve it is past time you became acquainted with our world, Mr.Maxwell. Yes, please, you must join us tonight."

Suddenly, the guest found that his usual quick wit had failed.There was an actual lump forming in his throat instead of a quip, atthe significance of such an invitation. "I'd like that very much.Thank you," he answered sincerely.

Thus, the small entourage began its journey, the litter bearerswith Diana and her child, followed by Father and Mary. Joe turned toVincent, who'd remained on his knees since he'd lifted his wife ontothe stretcher. The DA took immediate note that the powerful figurebeside him had made no attempt to come to his feet and join theretreating group. Giving the others a moment or two to get ahead ofthem, Joe then reached his arm down to Vincent.

The fur-backed hand took quick hold of the offered arm, welcomingthe steadying presence unselfconsciously.

"You shouldn't have lifted Diana," came Joe's unexpected, at ease,admonishment.

The blue eyes that held the DA's dark ones brightened in surprisedkinship. "There are a lot of things none of us should have done thisevening. And so many more that needed to be done."

"I guess that the Fates were pointing us all into the samedirection all along."

"We must be grateful that was the case. As I must be grateful foryour help. Your trust, Joe. I'll never be able to thank youenough."

The DA looked long into the exotic features before him, the truthtaking hold in his heart without question. "I think the trust hascome totally from your side, Vincent, tonight." A gentle rebuke fromunearthly blue eyes contradicted Joe's conclusion, setting his heartto warm comfort. He was suddenly so relieved to know that Diana's ownfate-steered existence had crossed her life's path with that of abeyond human protector's far beneath the city's streets.

Pushing himself off the supporting wall, Vincent took as deep abreath as he could manage, which wasn't too deep at the moment. Hewasn't startled when Joe took hold of his right arm and drew it overhis own shoulder, running his left arm around Vincent's waist insupport. "I'll be all right in a few minutes," he explained with abit of

embarassment. "I just need to catch my breath."

"After an episode like that, so do I," came Joe's immediateresponse. "And I'm not even nursing a collapsed lung."

An upswept eyebrow arched even more in surprised emphasis asVincent gazed down questioningly at the man helping to steady hissteps. Obviously Diana had filled Joe in on some of their recentlypast experiences, speaking of her total trust in the DA. With thatrealization, the new father urged softly, "We'd better not get toofar behind. Father will become suspicious and I'll spend the nextmonth in bed!"

The unexpected trepidation in those last words broke a smile overJoe's face as they continued walking slowly. "Jacob will dress youdown then, will he?"

Vincent nodded solemnly, but with a hint of mischief in his deepblue eyes. "I've been able to dodge most of his admonishments of latewhere the state of my recovery has been concerned, so I'm certainthere would be an accumulation of medical and parental ire to dealwith if he even thinks I'm still in pain."

The DA stopped their progress for a moment so that he could lookat Vincent directly. "It wouldn't be totally your fault that youare," he pronounced quietly, not exactly certain if he should dare toask for an explanation. "You took on a healthy dose of Diana's pain,too. Your little girl is alive and safe because of it." The wordscame out as if they were the most normal observation Joe could havemade of his mythic companion, and that otherworldly figure'sinexplicable bonding to both the woman and the child he loved.

Vincent took in another deep breath, tentatively, before replying.Looking into Joe's earnest face an instant, he realized, with wonder,that the man he'd only come to meet an hour ago, searching now foranswers he could understand and accept, was one that he could trustwith his life. He'd already trusted the DA with Diana's life, and hischildren's.

"She would have endured her agony alone, would never want tothreaten anyone she loved with her own pain. She is so strong. But,sometimes, love calls us to be vulnerable, so that those we careabout can touch our hearts with their own strength."

"And then miracles happen."

"Yes . . . miracles."

Continuing their steps down the tunnel, just beyond sight of thesmall medical party ahead of them, the two men allowed themselves theluxury of accepting the quickly-forged kinship that had settleditself between them without hesitation or doubt. Vincent felt hisbreathing improving as he took his supported steps gratefully. Theslighter man helping steady him carried his own compelling form ofinner strength quietly within him. Diana's judgment of the DA's heartcould not be faulted, he knew for certain.

The labyrinth of passageways and tunnels apparently chiseled outof the living rock seemed to go on forever as the stretcher partymade its steady way within a world of fairy tale legend. The fartherthe small entourage walked, the more frequent, and welcoming, thelight sources amazingly became, throwing the stone walls into a warmglow with the light from scores of candles and torches. The sound ofvoices ahead of them were not only those of Father and Mary. Vincentpulled himself free of Joe's support, at that realization, his taxedstrength mostly resettled.

As the group came to a halt before what seemed to be an entrywayto a room, Samantha's voice was heard from within, in obviousbreathless anticipation. "Oh, Diana, you're all right!" she spokewith delight. "And the baby . . . she's like a little doll!"

The weary mother raised her one free arm to the young girl whotook it quickly, gratefully against her. "We're all well, Samantha,"she pronounced softly, "and we have you to thank for it, too." Asweet blush of color overcame the girl's features as she was heldmomentarily speechless with relief.

Mary then addressed her. "Why don't you take the baby, dear, whilewe get Diana settled into bed?" The blush radiated into visiblewonder at the task required. Gently, Samantha bent down to the littlebundle.

"May I, Diana?"

The generous welcome the red-haired mother had for her youngfriend's appeal was genuine and heartfelt. "Of course you may," shequietly pronounced.

With an easy, experienced touch, the dark-haired girl gathered thebaby into her arms, letting the stretcher pass her into the roombeyond with Father's urgings. Samantha turned to Vincent with loving,awestruck wonder. "She's an angel, Vincent . . . I'm so happy foryou!"

A taloned hand drifted softly over the girl's braided hair withobvious, cherished care. "That this little one, and Diana, are safelyback home now has a great deal to do with your protective care,Samantha."

The girl's warm features were glowing as she fitted a finger intothe baby's tiny fist. A sweet smile radiated completely over herbeautifully maturing face. She raised eyes brimming with tenderacknowledgement to the powerful figure before her. "You asked me towatch over Diana for you."

Joe swallowed at the girl's reply and manner, taking note of thetotal, love-washed devotion directed at Vincent from her. He got theimmediate feeling that there was something intangibly . . . beautiful. . . between the girl and the mystical presence she was addressing .. . complete, utterly undying, trust. It took his breath away.

After a moment, Mary came back out into the tunnel, very much ineasy control of the situation. "Samantha, would you like to come inand help me get Diana and the baby comfortable?" she asked with warminvitation. The girl gently carried off the little bundle in herarms, so happy with her responsibility. In the meantime, the tunnelmatriarch's attention had been turned onto the new father. "Why don'tyou give us a few minutes, dear? You both can get washed up inFather's study."

The aching need to be with his wife and child held Vincent rootedto the spot for an extra few seconds, as he considered his fostermother's words reluctantly. She, though, took the situation in handand literally turned the imposing presence around, giving him apronounced, motherly shove to urge him on his way. "You can be withyour ladies in a little while. Now, off with you!. We'll call whenwe're ready. And take Joe with you."

There was little either man could do in the face of such maternaldirection but comply. Joe found that he was delightfully fascinatedby the elder woman who could so easily admonish a formidible, mythicpresence such as Vincent with so much ease of conviction. The feelingof kinship that had sprouted so strongly between the two men wasbeing reinforced with every passing experience of the evening for theDA.

Having conceded that he was going to have to wait before he couldreturn to Diana's side, Vincent turned to lead the way down thetunnel and away from his chamber. Joe followed his large formsilently for a dozen yards along the stone passageways, until he wasamazed to notice that more people were streaming into the smallspaces before them, all with hugs and hand-clasps and bright joyousfaces for the new father.

There was a girl, probably in her early twenties with a quietlychallenging, confident aire about her; a young man, also of about thesame age, with unruly blonde hair and a strangely abbreviated speechpattern; another thin man carrying a carpenter's apron in his hands;and, finally, a gentle-featured, dark-haired woman, about 35, andobviously pregnant.

Amazingly, everyone that greeted Vincent with hearty and relievedcongratulations also extended their hands, and obviously their heartsas well, to Joe, too. He could hardly accept that the outpouring ofloving emotion should so easily include himself.

"Now, we can all greet Vincent and talk to him later. Let the poorman recover for a few minutes!" The dark-haired mother-to-be scoldedher companions who laughingly agreed. The crowd dispersed into a halfdozen different directions at once, seemingly into the stoneitself.

"Thank you, Livy. I desperately need a cup of tea at the moment,"came Vincent's grateful reply as he followed the woman into a largechamber hewn out of the rock, urging Joe to follow.

"Tea's already waiting, and there's warm water for you. Here youare, Mr. Maxwell." Joe was handed a small hand towel as he wonderedwhy everyone in this subterranean world already knew his name.Vincent began to pour water from a large, porcelain pitcher into abasin on a very old looking chest of drawers. The DA let hisattention run over the incredulous sight of the room they werein.

It was piled high with books, ancient, rare-looking volumes inbattered, leather bindings. The space was crammed, too, with anunbelievable collection of eclectic articles that boggled the mind:furnishings that were heavy and highly polished, like his mother'sprecious sideboard, always lovingly cared for; a ship's wheel hangingnear a twisting iron staircase; a tryptic icon that looked like itbelonged in St. Basil's Cathedral; and candles, candles everywhere,lighting the amazing space with a warm, soft glow.

"Why don't you clean up first, Joe?" Vincent's words finallypulled the DA's attention back to the water basin. He came over to itand set the towel down beside it, finding himself momentarilyconfused as to how to wash up without a tap. Then he pushed hisalready rolled sleeves up a bit more on his arms and slid his handsinto the warm water in the basin.

The feeling of welcome relief he unexpectedly experienced fromthat simple act was so difficult to describe. It was as if all hisanxiety and disquiet of the evening just melted away into the warmth.Lathering up with a large, coarse bar of soap, Joe was surprised tofind more clean water poured out over his hands from the pitcher --by Vincent -- helping him negotiate the uncharacteristically foreignritual. To the DA, it felt, somehow, like a very intimate reach intohis spirit, from the mystic figure across the basin from him, aquietly comforting act, offering him reassurance. He wasn't certainthe warmth beginning to fill him came only as a result of thesoothing water.

Once Joe had dried his hands, Vincent then quickly washed up too,and his companion's focus again came to rest on those undeniablyunhuman hands. But, instead of the nightmarish flash of blood he'dfound his thoughts settling on unbidden earlier that evening, Joecould only picture a little girl coming back to life within thateasily deadly grasp, startlingly blessed by a golden wedding bandthat didn't even seem out of place now.

His own washing completed, Vincent turned momentarily back into agreat wooden wardrobe and retrieved a heavy pullover sweater, holdingit out to his companion with an explanation: "You'll probably be morecomfortable with something warmer on down here. It is rather cool inour chambers, especially in winter."

Joe took the offered garment and pulled it over his head,realizing that he'd all but forgotten about his own warm clothes.But, his coat had been left to pillow Diana on the stretcher, and hissuit jacket had lastly been warming the baby. "Thanks. That feelsmuch better," he pronounced easily.

With a gracious sweep of his arm, Vincent directed his guest to alarge table where Livy was pouring steaming cups of tea, on a smallarea of the surface that had been pushed free of what looked likepositively archaic blueprints of the city Above. He accepted thesteaming cup offered him from the woman's hand and settled into alarge, worn armchair, gratefully.

They'd hardly enjoyed two sips from their refreshments, though,before the sound of small, hurried footsteps echoed down the tunnelthey'd entered the room from. Livy looked up from her tidying at thewashbasin with the long-patient attitude of a mother of boys. "Thatwould be Jacob," she concluded, easily.

Sure enough, the little boy came bounding into the room andstraight across the crowded width of the space to his father'sawaiting embrace. Which was not an easy action, either, seeing as howthe child was all but engulfed by a beautiful bouquet of mixedflowers and ferns: colorful plantian lilies, cyclamen nodding onslender stems, astilbe, and, in the center of the bunch, an amazing,full-blown rose, white, with swirling red sweeps across its ruffledpetals.

The little boy set the flowers immediately down on the table,miraculously between the teacups, and threw his arms around hisfather's neck in relieved abandon. Vincent's hold on the child wasjust as enthusiastic, as he listened patiently to a flood ofquestions, all pronounced breathlessly, and without punctuation.

"Father, you're here! Are you well? Is Mama? And the baby? I feltthat you all were very frightened earlier, and I've been terriblyworried ever since!"

Vincent set a kiss on the child's forehead as he gently claspedthe golden curled head between his two great hands. "We are all safeand well, Jacob. Mama and your new little sister are being attendedto in our chamber now by Mary and Grandfather and Samantha."

The limpid sapphire eyes the little boy shared with his fatherwidened perceptively with wonder at his father's words. "A littlesister? Oh, Father, really?"

"Yes, Jacob. You have a little sister. You are a big brother now,and your new sister has been very lucky to have had you watching overher from her first moments with us."

Jacob threw his small arms as far as he could manage around hisfather's formidible frame again, which wasn't far, but the littlearms encircling him gave Vincent a peaceful radiance of spirit fromwithin their joined hearts that he cherished beyond words. Joecouldn't resist reaching out to tousle the child's golden hair at themoment, too, in acknowledgement. "Jacob helped Samantha lead hismother to safety without a second thought." The child accepted thebeaming compliment easily, knowing it came sincerely from a worthyheart.

Vincent reached his hand over to the bunch of flowers lying on thetable before him. "I see that you've been down to the rivergarden."

"Jamie took me down while we were waiting for you to return. Shesaid that some flowers would be a lovely gift for Mama and the baby."Suddenly, the little boy's expression turned momentarily questioningand unsure. "We picked one of Mama's special roses, too, Father." Alittle hand softly indicated the unusual blossom in the center of thebouquet. "Mama has said she wishes to save those roses for veryspecial times. Was it all right that we picked one now?"

For a moment, Vincent simply held the child quietly, withoutresponding to his question, then he drew the boy back into anunexpectedly fervent embrace. Gently running his hand over his son'ssturdy little shoulders, he softly replied, "The birth of a child isa very special, blessed time, Jacob, perfect for such a flower gift.Mama will be very happy."

Joe caught sight of the momentary . . . anguish . . . in theexotic face pressed close to the little boy's. Jacob pulled back aninstant from his father's arms, reaching a small hand to the softlybristled face. A silent communion passed between parent and childthat was outwardly apparent to even the DA, a deep, nurturingconnection that spoke of both reassurance . . . and pain . . .undying love . . . and loss.

Livy's kind words helped temper the fragile moment. "Here, Jacob,let's get those flowers into some water so they'll stay fresh."

The child slowly quit his father's embrace to gather up theflowers, but his gaze was still entwined with the heartstoppingdepths holding him in love . . . and grief. Finally he turned to thewoman across the room to care for his gift.

Joe suddenly could no longer keep Vincent's presence in his owngaze. He looked deeply into the teacup he was holding, a pronouncedache in his chest readily discernible.

"I wasn't with Catherine when Jacob was born."

The words were quietly agonized, still so pained, as Vincent kepthis child's actions in his sight across the room. Livy was helpinghim carefully place the flowers into a large water tumbler.

Joe at last found the courage to lift his own gaze to hiscompanion's, his heart clamoring with disquiet turmoil of its own, atboth his remembered sense of loss, and the visible evidences of itwashing over the arresting figure across from him.

"She labored alone to bring our son into the world . . .surrounded by hellish evil. The first hand that held Jacob . . . wasprobably the one that helped . . . murder . . . his mother."

The DA felt a surge of anguish rush through him at Vincent'sconfession, so quietly desperate, and still full of remorse andguilt. Joe remembered his own feelings, swelling up with a vengeance,coming into Catherine's apartment that morning her body had beenfound: He'd actually stumbled into the apartment, dazed andgrief-numbed, happening into the rooms as his co-worker's body wasbeing coldly prepared for removal from her bed, to the officerspresent simply another victim of the city's violence.

His heart had dropped out of his chest then . . . as it had themorning Diana had revealed to him the medical examiner's report onCathy's death -- that she'd delivered a child moments before she'dbeen executed. The pain, the loss and futility had been overwhelmingthen to the DA, as he tried to reconcile the circumstances presentedto him with the vibrant, giving young woman he'd loved as a friend .. . and beyond.

How much more acute, how much more devastating, would the pain,the loss, have been for the man seated across from him now, thefather of that stolen child, the soulmate of that radiant presencethat had been Catherine?

And how much more anguishing had the past two hours been for thatfate-shadowed being tonight, when destiny had threatened to repeatitself with yet another felling blow of loss ready to claim hisheart?

Joe set his hand onto the powerful arm of the man beside him, inreassuring, trusting understanding. He may have had his doubts as tothe sane reality of the circumstances he'd found himself thrust intothis night, but he was certain of one thing at that moment: The soullying revealed and vulnerable to his scrutiny was one who had touchedthe hearts of two very special women he cared for himself, giftingthem with a share of passionate devotion into eternity.

As impossible as it all seemed, both he and Vincent had somehowboth come to love the same two remarkable women, though each in theirown uniquely profound way. That astounding revelation onlyaccentuated now the powerful forces of connection Joe had feltforging themselves between him and the mystical protector sharing acup of tea at his side. Both Catherine, and Diana, had deserved thedepths of devotion offered them from that otherworldly heart. AndVincent himself, Joe concluded without doubt, wa beyond worthy of thelove offered him.

"Vincent, you were with Diana. She's safe and well, and yourdaughter's first breath was from you."

The soul-searching azure eyes held him in quiet gratitude, and asoft smile slowly drew itself across features that would becommonplace only in the epic legends of long ago. Yet, that face alsobecame the gently wonderfilled gaze of a father contemplating hisgifts from heaven itself -- a tenderly earnest and delightfullyspirited little boy, and a small angel of a redhead who gave everyindication of being as formidible a soul as her parents.

"Yes, it is a blessed moment, now, isn't it?" came the softlypronounced return to hope.

"Well, Diana and my granddaughter are ready to receive somecompany, though we'll need to limit it to worried fathers and helpfulgodfathers at the moment."

Jacob Wells came slowly into the room and when he stood behind thelarge chair where his son was seated, he rested a loving hand ontothe great shoulders. Once they had been small and prone to stooping,to hide a unique face behind a fall of golden hair. Vincent turned atthe paternal acknowledgement and set his own taloned hand over thephysician's.

"You'll forgive me, then, if I abandon you and Joe, Father? Jacoband I will be rather poor company until we can see our ladies forourselves."

The elder man looked patiently over to the DA with a bit of agleam in his kind eyes. "Don't you think you ought to eat somethingfirst? And show our guest around a bit?" The look of painedexasperation was exactly what the elder man expected. "No, I supposenot . . . then go on with you both. Diana's better equipped to handleyour impudence than I, even in her exhausted state. And you can standsome rest yourself."

Vincent let that last remark pass him without acknowledgement asJacob quickly gathered his bouquet of flowers, fairly flying over tohis father and grandfather at the table. "Excuse us, Mr. Maxwell, butwe have to go see Mama and my new sister." Then with the impatienturgings of a child, he tugged mightily on his father's hand, hopingto move him more satisfactorily along to the desired destination.

Father laughed out loud at the child's eagerness, then sriouslyadmonished him, "We'll have to see how long it is before that newsister of yours is tearing about after you, young man."

The warm smile turned on the elder man and Joe from the father andson spoke a wealth of heartfelt emotion that was long on relieved joyand, at last, far from remembered pain. Vincent excused himself tothe DA, then let the little boy draw him out of the room and into thetunnel beyond.

Pulling his patiently acknowledging gaze from the sight of hisretreating son and grandson, Jacob Wells turned to Joe with quietinquiry in his cultured tone of voice. "Something tells me there wasmore than a simple coaxing of that baby's breath involved back inthat tunnel."

The DA responded as gently as he could to the older man's query."Your granddaughter's alive because of her father."

Jacob nodded his head slowly, then came to sit on the large, onceelegant chair his son had just quit. "I thought so. Dear God, I'llnever understand where he finds his strength! The circumstances ofJacob's birth couldn't have been too far from his mind."

Joe read the sorrow and care in the older man's quietly wornfeatures, a father's face, confronting a child's pain, even if thatchild was a grown man himself. And that pain had loomed so tellinglyonly a short hour ago. "It was pretty serious, wasn't it? Diana wasin trouble, too, wasn't she?"

The elder physician was not surprised to note a very real anxietyin the earnest features of the young man seated before him either.Mary had been right to include him within their midst tonight.

"Her blood pressure is still a bit on the low side. She's lostmore blood already than is usual for an uncomplicated delivery." Aquiet darkness suddenly took hold of the kind grey eyes before Fathercontinued speaking. His words were in a noticeably softer tone, drawnfrom a deep memory that could yet cause pain. "In the old days, awoman struggling alone in such a childbirth might have been lost, aswell, with the baby."

Seeming to suddenly catch his embattled train of thought at last,the elder man ran a hand through his hair in a gesture that releasedhis tension. The past, it seemed, sought to remain insistantly closeto the surface of everyone's heart on a night such as this. But,there was so much more that was calling those hearts, too, back intohope.

"Thank God you and Vincent were able to help them both! Dianashould bounce back within a few days, I'm certain. Any woman's scopeof recovery is amazing, when faced with the need to care for herchild. Diana's force of will is astonishing."

Without even having to think about his own reply, Joe Maxwellresponded, "So is the power of their love."

The awe-tinged words confirmed to Father what he'd suspected: ThatJoe had witnessed within that tunnel drama something far beyond hisown plane of experience that was carefully rooted in rationalreality. "Yes. They have something very special between them, Dianaand my son. It defies my understanding, but I'll never stop thankingheaven for it. And we now have a beautiful new addition to our familybecause .êJoe smiled in agreement, then found that radiatingwarmth fill him again with the elder man's continued explanation. "Wecan also welcome you, Mr. Maxwell, to our family. As a trustedfriend. That is something very special as well. Come, now, let's seeif we can find you some dinner."

Getting back up to his feet with decision, the patriarch of anunimagined society beneath the streets of New York City, reached outto take hold of his guest's arm. "You deserve some recovery time,too, I dare say, Joe," he offered with bright caring. The DA'sbesieged body, as well as spirit, welcomed Father's obvious concern.And with the elder man's final comment to him, Joe Maxwell knew he'dtruly, unexpectedly, found his way back home again within asubterranean labyrinth of stone chambers:

"I might just be able to scare up a bit of cooking sherry to toastmy new granddaughter with you, in William's kitchen, at that. Youdon't look like you're too familiar with the comforting properties ofa good cup of tea."