CHAPTERELEVEN — UNREQUITED

Vincent?When we first met, remember how we talked about feeling alone?

Iremember.

Well,I've been thinking. It doesn't have to be that way, not anymore. Allthese things keep coming back into my head - everything we've talkedabout, things I never talked to anybody about before . . . And I keepthinking about when the baby came, how you were there - close to me -close to her. Let me love you, Vincent.

Lena. . .

Ican feel your heart.

Iwill always cherish the moment we first met–how you saw me–howyou accepted me.

It'sthe same for me . . .

Iknow. But what you ask now is impossible.

Why?

Becausemy heart is bound to another.

Catherine?

Yes.

Doyou love her?

Withall that I am. With all that I can ever become.

Butshe's not here! Why isn't she with you?

Sheis where she needs to be. I can't explain . . .

Butif she's not here, how can she love you?

Lena,you don't understand. Her love opened the world for me!

Whatdo you think you've done for me?

---God Bless the Child (Written by Gansa & Gordon)

Waitingpatiently for Vincent to appear, Diana stood just inside thethreshold of the tunnel, a weathered duffle bag on the ground besideher. She closed her eyes, and again tried to force the images of herlatest case out of her mind. Still, the scenes kept replaying, overand over again. The crime photos of the broken little boy wouldn't goaway: the vacant eyes sunk within a face frozen by death into a maskof agony; the head impossibly angled, revealing in vivid detail thathis neck had been snapped; the scars and burn marks lacerating histiny frame. Together, they told a story of torture and depravity madeeven more horrible because they involved a child. Now, as before, noamount of mental fortitude kept the memories at bay, and although themurderer was dead, the horror of an innocent child's brutal death hadtaken its toll on her.

Sheshook her head in frustration. She was well aware that the lingeringimages from profiling a killer as horribly sadistic as Danny Lombardowas the price she paid for her gift; but this time the price had lefther spirit battered and bruised from the accumulation of horrors shehad gathered from Lombardo's mind. Sick at heart and physicallyexhausted from days without sleep, she knew she had stepped too farover the line in her headlong determination to bring the killer tojustice. The fact that she - who prided herself on her self-reliance- stood inside the mouth of a desolate tunnel, seeking refuge Belowfrom her pain, gave ample proof of just how deeply she'd beenwounded. Her hair hung limply from a single barrette, and shadowsunder her eyes reflected the emotional strain she had endured.

Buthow could I have done less when faced with so heinous a crime, sogreat an injustice as the murder of a little boy?

Tooweary to continue standing, she braced her back against the inside ofthe tunnel wall and slowly slid down to the ground, her legs bent toher chest. Ever so slowly she leaned her head forward until it restedon her knees. Stifling the sob that threatened to escape, sheremembered how she had pushed herself to the very limits of herendurance, attacking little Bobby Jensen's case with a single-focuseddetermination that blocked out everyone and everything. Investigatingthe murder of a child was difficult for seasoned cops, but forsomeone of her sensitivity it had been sheer agony. Yet she had knownthe price she might pay in driving herself so hard, and she had alsoknown that for her, there was no other choice.

Ruthlesslyhonest with herself, Diana acknowledged the complex emotions that hadfueled her determination to see justice done in this case - and themurder of a child had not been the only reason. Bobby Jensen's murderhad come on the heels of her last visit Below and her conversationwith Father. At first she had used the case as a way to escape thefears and truths Father had insisted that she must face regarding herfeelings for Vincent. But that had all changed the first moment shegazed at the photos of the Jensen boy. His parents had provided thepolice with the most recent pictures of the child, taken at hisbirthday party two months earlier. Bobby Jensen had been only twoyears old—only two!Diana discovered in those photos a sweet blond-haired boy with anengaging, mischievous smile and an innocent beauty that was the giftof childhood. Staring at the pictures of the happy little boy hadtugged at her heart as his face melded into her memories of anotherchild, almost two years old, with dusky, honey and gold locks andsparkling blue eyes. Thus it was, that after seeing the photos oflittle Bobby Jensen, there had never been any other choice for herthan to pursue his killer, regardless of the consequences to herself.

Towardthe end, Joe had finally noticed her obsession with the case. Asexpected, he tried to put on the brakes, but by then it had gone toofar. Diana was in Lombardo's head, and as much as it sickened her,she knew him—and she knew thatonly she could find him. What was more, Joe knew it, too. And so,cursing his own inability to keep Diana from harm's way, but equallydesperate to get a child killer off the streets, Joe had steppedaside to let Diana finish what she had begun. Like a worried parent,he trailed her moves from then on, but never interfered—thatis, until she found the creep.

Dianacould scarcely believe the gall of the man to brazenly sit in CentralPark, on a bench with a woman who was clearly the nanny of twotoddlers playing just a few feet away. Observing him from a crop ofbushes, Diana felt his calculated hunger for the small lives like atangible force. . . . and that was when she lost it. Her jaw achedfrom where she'd clenched it, and her eyes narrowed on Lombardo withall the anger and despair of the past four weeks. Something dark anddangerous within her boiled over into an explosive rage so powerfulshe lost control. She wasn't aware of her sprint to the park bench orthe shout from behind her where Joe and two officers had taken uppositions. She was acutely aware, however, when she kicked out onelong graceful leg that connected her booted foot to Lombardo's chestwith enough force to throw him from the bench. It hadn't been a kickdesigned to kill, only to immobilize and place him out of easy reachof the children and their terrified nanny. Then with the deadlyaccuracy of the hunter that she was, Diana followed the kick, bodyslamming her lithe, long torso against him and flattening him to theground. Without missing a beat, she pulled out her gun, tuckedsecurely in the back waistband of her jeans, and in one smoothmovement, shoved the barrel against Lombardo's temple. In what becamethe longest seconds of her life, she saw the man's total destructionin her mind and God how she wanted it - like an avenging angel - thesame avenging angel that had rid the world of Gabriel.

Witha calmness that was far more terrifying than her earlier actions, shelocked eyes with the murderer of Bobby Jensen. Their eyes held, andwhite hot anger rushed through her as she realized that there wasnothing to stop her from putting an end to the life of this miserableexcuse for a human being. In him, she sensed no fear, no remorse, noteven the recognition that he was only moments away from beingexecuted for his sins against the most innocent of humanity. She alsoknew that where a soul should have been there was none - only a blackcavern of hunger for his next victim. He returned her stare with thesmug assurance of one who had nothing to lose, and therefore nothingto fear. Diana decided, then and there, that if ever a human deservedto die, it was Danny Lombardo. Knowing the evil he hid in the outwardtrappings of a man, Diana felt the familiar cool weight of the gun,and her hand trembled in deadly anticipation of pulling the trigger.

Withsingle focused determination, she let out the breath she held andsteadied her hand. It was then that other sounds began to filterthrough to her hypersensitized awareness. From behind she registeredthe shouts of Joe and the others, but what ultimately penetrated herfog of hatred was the sound of crying: children's terrified wailing.From the periphery of her vision, she saw the two toddlers. Startledfrom their play, they sat some feet away from her, crying in terrorand with an unobstructed view of her and the man she held down. Ifshe killed him now, they would see it all. Their presence did what noother force could have done. For the sake of the children and thehorror reflected on their young faces, she savagely pulled herselfback from the brink of revenge. Slowly releasing the pressure on thetrigger of her gun, she next registered Joe's presence. Joe,sworn to defend a judicial system that had commuted Lombardo'sprevious jail sentence and in so doing had condemned Bobby Jensen todeath. Despite it all, she knew Joe would never condone the outrightexecution of any man, regardless of his crimes.

Nowwalking slowly toward her, Joe held himself rigid with tension, hiseyes riveted to her as though willing her to stop before it was toolate. With her gun still trained on Lombardo, she pushed herself toher feet, not missing Joe's expression of relief that certaindisaster had been narrowly averted. Two officers trailed behind him,and in what Diana would later chalk up as the height of incompetence,neither had yet drawn their firearms. And it was in that moment, asshe stood and looked at the approaching men that all hell brokeloose. Lombardo managed to push himself up from the ground in onemove, kicking out at Diana's legs in the process. She went down hard,but not before she saw him turn in the direction of the two toddlerswho still sat crying in the grass.

Asshe hit the ground, pain shot up from her shoulder to her neck,almost causing her to drop her gun. Thankful that the injury was toher left side, she bit down hard on her lip, her only concession tothe agony spreading through her shoulder. Drawing on the lastreserves of her strength, she spotted Lombardo's fleeing figure. Inseconds he would have at least one of the children in his grasp, andin turn, a hostage. Diana's blood ran cold. The bastard would getaway. She knew with absolute certainty that once he had one of thechildren in his possession, none of them would dare endanger achild's life with heroics.

"Noooo!" she yelled, as she rolled toher good side and trained her weapon on the man. Lombardo didn't evenpause, his sight fixed on the closer of the two children. And thenthe sharp crack of a single shot rang out. With grim satisfaction,Diana watched as Lombardo abruptly jerked and then fell face down inthe grass, only inches from a little boy whose terrified shrieksfilled the park.

Inmere minutes, Joe had confirmed that Danny Lombardo was dead, killedby a single gunshot wound to the base of the skull. Less than an hourlater, paramedics popped back in Diana's dislocated shoulder, andrefusing their offer of pain medication, she nearly passed out fromthe burning agony. Slowly limping to the park bench, she slumped downand, for the first time, noticed that the two young children had beenreturned to the nanny who was being escorted to a waiting police car.

Dianafelt weariness tugging at her, but with the adrenaline of battlestill pumping through her veins, she couldn't relax. Even when Joewalked over and lightly touched her, she flinched defensively.Raising both his hands, he backed up a couple of steps, staring ather with a look she had never before seen in his eyes. Dragging alarge gulp of air into her lungs, she pulled herself together enoughto formally apologize to District Attorney Joe Maxwell for hermomentary loss of control when she first apprehended Lombardo, butshe was damned if she'd ever apologize for being forced to kill thebastard. A subdued Joe assured her that the killing was justified,given that they all had witnessed Lombardo's attempt to abduct thechildren. However, as a detective involved in a shooting that hadresulted in the death of the suspect, there would naturally be aninvestigation by Internal Affairs. As a matter of policy, she wasimmediately relieved of duty and placed on administrative leave. Withmore concern than Diana had ever heard him express, Joe suggestedthat she take off the next month - get away from her work - to regainher balance and her perspective. A rebellious streak in her wanted tochallenge his generosity, but the throbbing in her shoulder hadintensified, and a part of her recognized that she needed the rest,and even more, the time to heal.

Tiredand in pain, Diana told Joe she would take the leave from her work.She told him she was alright. She told him 'no', she didn't need tospeak with the station counselor. Finally realizing that she wouldlet him do no more, he walked away. Safely out from under Joe'sscrutiny, Diana admitted to herself that she'd lied. She wasn'talright. Today she had killed a man, and even now she couldn't summona single feeling of remorse - and despite the circumstances thatjustified the shooting, Diana knew that she hadn't even tried toavoid the kill or disable him. The truth was that she had wantedDanny Lombardo dead. With that admission, she felt herself go coldinside, and she knew she was going to be sick. Turning so that herback was to the group of officers still taking evidence from thecrime scene, she leaned over the edge of the bench and promptly lostthe contents of her stomach.

Herhead was now throbbing, and it joined the pain radiating in hershoulder. The only bright spot was that no one had noticed her momentof weakness. Now shivering uncontrollably, she was once againreminded of how completely her facade of total self-reliance wasdestroyed. Right now she was hurt and weary, and she needed a safeplace to recover. It was then that she remembered hearing that Fatherhad opened Below to all Helpers as a refuge from the heat wave thathad blanketed the Northeast. She knew she wasn't at risk from theheat that even now, at midmorning, was steadily building, but she wasfar from well. She needed to be around people who cared for oneanother. She needed to hear Jake's laughter and watch as the childrenbeat Father at chess or performed an impromptu concert. She needed asafe place to heal.

Fortwo days, she struggled with her decision, but in the end, she sent amessage to Vincent, asking him to meet her today. She would ask himfor refuge Below for the next two weeks, hoping that her presencewould not disturb the already precarious balance of theirrelationship. Lost in her thoughts, she failed to notice that Vincenthad arrived. For all of his height and build, Vincent could be aquiet man. Now, from the inner shadows of the tunnel, he stilledhimself and allowed that part of him that was empathic to sense theanguish roiling within his friend. He could feel the depth of herpain, both physical and emotional; and his eyes narrowed with concernas he noticed what he'd missed before. Diana was not standing withthe sure wide stance that so reminded him of a Valkyrie from Norsemythology. With her head resting on her knees, she radiated fatigue;and though she wore her trademark jeans and baggy sweatshirt, Vincentcould tell that she'd lost weight since last he'd seen her. And aboveall, he felt her grief, a sadness so profound it was as if she hadbuckled under the weight of despair.

Dianawas his friend, a woman who had aided him in finding his son and hadwillingly taken on the burden of Gabriel's death so that he couldbegin the long, hard road of healing. To see her so shattered andvulnerable brought out in Vincent the protective instincts that hefelt for all he considered family or friend. Softly, so as notstartle her, Vincent called out.

"Diana,is everything alright?" She looked up, and Vincent quickly masked hisshock at the stark desolation reflected in her eyes. Wearily shepassed a hand over her face and slowly came to stand before the manwho had captured her heart while his own still belonged to another -another who was dead. She had intended to ask him quickly andoutright if she could seek sanctuary Below. Instead, the grief shefelt for the senseless killing of Bobby Jensen and her recent fearfor the two toddlers in the park merged in her mind.

Witha choked sob, she asked him. "Is Jake alright? Is he safe?"

Respondingto her desperate inquiry, Vincent nodded. "He's safe, Diana. I justleft him with Mary."

Dianareleased her breath in a sigh, and tentatively reached out her handto Vincent. That was all she needed to do to ask for his help, as heclosed the distance between them and gathered her in an embrace thatoffered comfort and refuge from the death and killing that symbolizedher life Above. Great gut-wrenching sobs shook her body, and Vincentstood, solid and true, absorbing her grief and pain and providing theshoulder that she so desperately needed to lean on. As Diana's sobsslowly subsided, Vincent spoke to her softly.

"Tellme, Diana, what has made you so sad?"

Lookingup at him, Diana's eyes glistened with tears. Vincent thought, for asecond, that she might succumb to more weeping, but crying was thelast thing on her mind. From the moment she stared into the startlingblue of Vincent's eyes, she was lost all over again. No talks fromFather could stop the attraction she felt for him: it was there, itwas real, and whether he returned it or not, Diana simply could notstop the love she felt for this man, his son, and the communityBelow. Marshaling her emotions with an effort that made her heartache all the more, she drew in a ragged breath and stepped back fromthe comfort and safety of Vincent's embrace.

"Therewas a case, Vincent," she whispered softly, ". . . an innocent littleboy only two years old. A little boy who reminded me so much of Jake. . . This boy was murdered. No....not just murdered, but torturedwithout mercy and then killed when he could no longer satisfy thesadistic cravings of this man. Two days ago, I found his killer. Iwanted to destroy him, Vincent - to kill him so that he could neverharm another child - and I would have killed him that way. No trial.No jury. Just executed by my hand - by my justice. But there wereother children in the park - children who would have seen his murder,who would forever remember the sight and smell of his death. And so Ipulled back. Joe and two other cops were there. They saw me pullback, and that's when the man tried to abduct one of the children topave his escape with a hostage. So I shot him, Vincent, through thehead - and he died at the feet of a child. And now. . . ."

Forthe first time she faltered. Vincent waited patiently. Knowing howfiercely she protected her independence, he was afraid to suggestthat she stay Below where he and others might look after her. Still,it was obvious that she needed to be cared for. As the silencebetween them stretched out, Vincent glanced around and for the firsttime spied the worn duffle bag that sat at the very entrance to thetunnel. The true reason for her request that he meet her suddenlybecame clear.

Walkingover to the bag, he lifted it easily onto his shoulder and then heldout his hand to her.

"Come,Diana. No one can be strong all the time. We are your family, andwith us you will always have a safe place whenever you should needit. As the savior of my son's life and my friend, it would give methe greatest honor for you to stay with us Below for a time. Please,let us help you."

Slowly,she reached out and clasped Vincent's hand tightly, as though it wasa lifeline, and perhaps in the end, it was. Turning them toward thedarkness beyond, Vincent thought of how many times he had offered hiscomfort to Catherine, but seldom the sanctuary of his home. Perhapsif he'd insisted more that she stay Below, things would have beendifferent. Glancing down at Diana, as she walked quietly beside him,he promised that he'd do whatever he must to help her through thistime. Her friendship was precious to him, and he would be there forher; and perhaps in some small way atone for a time, not so very longago, when he had not been there for Catherine.

Fatherentered his chamber to discover Vincent and Diana sitting at histable, a plate of cookies and two pots before them. Knowing hisvisitor as he did, he imagined one pot contained water for Vincent'stea, while the other was most certainly coffee for Diana. As heapproached the table, his eyes widened momentarily in alarm as hetook in Diana's appearance. Noting the almost imperceptible shake ofVincent's head, he quickly masked his shock, but looked at her evenmore closely. Her fatigue was obvious, but he was also certain thatshe had lost weight. In light of her exhausted state, any reticencehe might have first felt in seeing her with Vincent, especially aftertheir last conversation, disappeared completely. With only a briefglance at Vincent to acknowledge that he understood, he turned hisfull attention to Diana, and without the usual small talk, camedirectly to the point.

"Diana,you are unwell."

"I'mfine, Jacob," she said softly, staring at the steaming cup she heldin her hands rather than confronting the censure she expected to seein his eyes.

"No,you're not fine - not by a long shot. Mind you, this is just myopinion without the benefit of examining you, but based on no otherevidence than looking at you now, I'd say you're suffering from acuteexhaustion; you've lost at least ten pounds in the past month; theshadows under your eyes tell me you're obviously not sleeping well;and something seems to be bothering your left arm if the way you haveit cradled in your lap is any indication."

Dianalooked up at Jacob in surprise, and the compassion in his expressiontotally demolished her defenses, leaving her on the brink of tears:unable to respond to him, lest she break down completely. Sensing herdistress, Vincent interceded, "Father, Diana has pushed herself toohard lately, and I've invited her to stay with us for a few weeks torest."

Vincentdidn't miss the sharp glance Father threw at him with those words,but he was relieved that Diana obviously had. Yet, when Father spokeagain, there was nothing but concern in his voice.

"Ofcourse Diana is welcome to stay with us, and you won't be alone mydear. We have several Helpers who have taken us up on our offer ofrefuge from the heat Above. But given your condition, I must insistyou allow me to examine your arm immediately. Then, I want you torest - in bed. Vincent, while we get this business over with, wouldyou be so kind as to find Mary and have her prepare a chamber forDiana?"

"CertainlyFather," Vince replied as he rose from the chair. "And thankyou," he said so softly as he walkedpast Father that there was little chance that Diana had overheard.Neither man would fail Diana when she so needed the support of theirfamily Below, but both men also knew that there were issuessurrounding Diana's stay that would have to be addressed; words thatwould have to be said. But for now, Diana would stay Below, and theywould help her heal. For Vincent, for now, that was enough.

Afterchecking to assure himself that Diana was comfortably settled in oneof the few remaining guest chambers, Vincent dropped in on Father. Hefound the Patriarch of their world at his desk, his concentrationfocused on the list of Helpers who now resided Below. As thoughsensing his presence, Father looked up toward the entrance and asmile of welcome replaced the look of worry Vincent had alreadynoted.

"Comein, Vincent," Father called to him. As Vincent drew near, Fatherwrote a few additional notes next to several names on his pad, andthen laid the entire list to the side.

"Iam sorry to disturb you, Father. If this is a bad time . . . ."

"Nonsense,"Father said with a wry smile. "I doubt there ever will be a good timefor what I'm doing, and in all honesty, I could use a diversion rightabout now."

"Wouldtalking about it help?" Vincent offered, as he settled himself morecomfortably in the chair.

"Itwouldn't hurt, I'm sure, but there's not much to talk about. TheHelpers have always been there for us, and it's time for us to offerthem the help they need. The addition of twenty more persons to ourcommunity does stretch our resources, but I believe we have enough inreserve for several more weeks before things become strained.Hopefully, by then, this heat wave will have snapped."

"Thenwhat is it that has you so concerned?" Vincent asked.

"Intruth, I'm not as concerned about the presence of our Helpers or thedepletion of our resources as I am in trying to find something usefulfor them to do. I was looking at the list to see where they couldbest fit into our community. I suspect it will be far easier for allof them if they have something productive to occupy their time whilethey wait for the weather to break."

"Andwhat have you come up with?" asked Vincent.

"I'vedecided to pair each Helper with one of our tunnel residents. In thebeginning they can just shadow them - see how things are done. Thenas they get accustomed to our ways, I should think they will want toaccept more responsibility."

Vincentleaned over to look at the list which Father pushed across the deskto him. Nodding, he commented,"It seems that you've done a good jobwith matching our Helpers with the services they performed Above."

"Notin all cases, Vincent. For some, I've had to make a guess as to whatfunctions Below would best meet their needs....or their presentcircumstances," Father admitted.

Pickingup on Father's discomfort, Vincent looked at the list again. Then, astwo names caught his attention, he looked up in sudden comprehension.More casually than he actually felt, he commented, "I notice you'vepaired Josiah and Diana with Mary and Rebecca to care for thechildren."

"Ihave, and I would appreciate your thoughts on my assignment forJosiah," Father replied.

Vincenthesitated. Through James Honig, a store owner and steadfast Helper,he had become acquainted with Josiah. Vincent had found him to be agentle, hardworking giant of a man with a good heart. So when Honigapproached Father to accept Josiah into their community, there hadnever been any doubt that the Council would approve the admission ofthis strong and willing Helper. Yet, no one had expected that lessthan a week later James Honig would be dead, and Josiah would come tothem as the sole survivor of the crime. When he'd first come Below,Vincent had taken the time to check on him, desiring only to ease histransition into their world. Their first meeting had beenuncomfortable. Rather than gratitude or relief at being a part oftheir community, Josiah radiated an underlying thread of resentmentand hostility that Vincent immediately sensed. Each subsequentencounter left Vincent feeling slightly disquieted, a vague uneasethat told him all was not well.

Vincentassumed that much of Josiah's buried anger was directed at thesenseless death of his boss and mentor, Mr. Honig. Now, however,Father had come upon the idea of assigning Josiah to care for themost precious resource of their world: the children.Vincent was unconvinced that it was in Josiah's best interest to workwith the children, given his present mental state. Still, he wasequally reluctant to cast aspersions on the man for feelings that he,himself, had experienced in the wake of Catherine's murder.

Yet,Vincent also had great faith in his innate ability to sense danger.Thus, with as much diplomacy as he was able to muster, Vincentanswered Father in words that would not commit him to eitherdecision.

"Josiahhas endured much, Father, but I must wonder if he has recoveredsufficiently from his ordeal to be saddled with the responsibility ofthe children. He appears so much more aloof than I remember, and I amsomewhat concerned that he may not be adjusting to life with us."

Clearlynot understanding, Father spoke up quickly in Josiah's defense. "Ofcourse he hasn't adjusted, Vincent! That's to be expected, given allthat he has been through! As for his reticence...yes, I've noticedit, too; but Josiah was always a quiet man. Is it any wonder thatwith the murder of his mentor he is even more withdrawn? In fact, itis for that very reason that I thought being around the childrenwould help. And as for working with the little ones, he'll besupervised by Mary and Rebecca. What better teachers could he have?"

Frustratedat his own inability to pinpoint the source of his feelings towardJosiah or explain his doubts to Father, Vincent remained silent. Ingood faith he couldn't find a single concrete concern sufficient tocast shadow on Josiah's character. Still, his instincts could not beignored, and while he might not object to him being assigned to workwith the children, he most certainly intended to keep a close eye onhim. Thus, with a grim reluctance he did nothing to hide from Father,Vincent told him, "I realize that James Honig had great faith inJosiah, and in honor of his memory, I agree - for now - with yourassignment for Josiah....but I also think I'll keep a watchful eye onhow things progress."

Fatherlooked at Vincent closely and read the worry in his expression. Heknew then that something was amiss, and perhaps he had sensed it allalong - thus his request that Vincent review the Helpers' workassignments. No other words of warning or concern needed to be said,since both men knew each would give Josiah the opportunity to provehimself guiltless of any suspicions . Knowing Vincent's personalinterest in Josiah's reliability in caring for the children, Fatherhad no doubt that he would personally keep an eye on things. Thatthought brought Father a sense of relief, and with finality, he said,"An excellent course of action."

Clearinghis voice in far too exaggerated a manner for it to be natural,Father then inquired, "And what are your thoughts about Diana workingwith the children...."

Thistime there was no hesitation as Vincent answered with ease. "Dianahas spent much of her time with the children whenever she's come tovisit in the past. Yet, her last case nearly crushed her spirit,Father. So much of what she does is the stuff made of nightmares, andgiven that the tragedy of this recent case involved a child, Ibelieve she would benefit greatly from being around the children. Itwill help to repel the darkness that surrounded her for weeks whileshe hunted the killer of that little boy. Perhaps in rediscoveringthe innocence and beauty in childhood, she will find a balance withinherself."

"Yes,"Father replied carefully. "Those were my thoughts, as well. I thinkbeing Below with us and working with the children may well help herto heal - but I can't help but wonder at what cost . . ."

"Mustthere always be a cost to everything or is this just your way ofimplying that you now have second thoughts about Diana being amongus?" Vincent asked quietly, although he well understood Father'squestion and by his own response acknowledged that they had now comefull circle to the real reason he had dropped by Father's chamber.The ramification of Diana living among them was an issue Vincent hadrefused to consider from the moment he found her sitting in the midstof despair at the entrance of the tunnel. He would listen and evenacknowledge Father's right to parental displeasure over this matter,but his will was set. Should Father desire Diana to leave, Vincent'swould adamantly refuse. He had no intention of escorting her fromtheir home before she was well once again.

Fatherallowed the power of silence to guide his reply, as he looked atVincent implacable expression. Finally, he sighed. "Right now, Diananeeds our help, Vincent. And of course I'm not rescinding my decisionto offer her sanctuary. I should be insulted that you would think sobadly of me - although my past actions toward Catherine may haveinfluenced your conclusions and so I take no offense. Neither do Ihave any illusions that Diana will stay in bed and regain herstrength, regardless of the fact that she desperately needs the rest.So if work she must, then I agree that it would be best among thechildren. Her love for little Jacob is known by everyone. Sono, Vincent, there is no cost inDiana looking after the children. They are probably the best medicinefor her spirit, and Mary will most certainly welcome the help. Myquestion concerned what your influence will be on herwell-being....and what the cost will be to her heart in beingconstantly around you . . ."

Vincentlooked up, startled. He expected anything other than for Father tocome so bluntly to the heart of the matter. Struggling for a responseto Father's words, he blurted out the first thing he thought.

"Father,this may not be the best of solutions for Diana, but it's the best Icould offer her when she was in such pain, and her need was sogreat."

Fatherstared at him steadily, and Vincent realized with sudden clarity thatFather knew how Diana felt about him, andmore than that, he accepted her feelings, something he had never donewith Catherine until it was too late for them all. Before he couldfalter any further, Father surprised him once again.

"Youdo realize, Vincent, that Diana is in love with you."

YesI know,Vincent thought, but putting those thoughts into words was harderthan he had imagined. Grimly, he grabbed hold of the logic that hadpreviously guided him in his dealings with Diana and replied. "Iknow, that she cares for Jacob. I know that she is my friend andally, Father - that she cares for you and our entire community. Ialso know that love is too strong an emotion for what we share."

"Andexactly what is it that you and Diana share?" Father queried with agleam of amusement in his eyes that set Vincent teeth on edge. Howcould he find humor in something as tragic as unrequited love? Vincent thought. Yet, tampingdown hard on his irritation, Vincent managed to reply.

"Itis the closeness that comes from shared pain, shared danger. Dianafeels much, and she also has great empathy, Father. It is onlynatural that her feelings would align with my own, given what we haveendured in the past year, but imagining that she is in love with meis simply not the way things are between us."

"NoVincent, perhaps not for you," Father now said somberly. "But forDiana, love is exactly what she imagines is between you - atleast on her part. Oh, she would appear to seek only friendship, butas you correctly stated, she is an empath in her own right. She knowswhat you desire of her. Still, it remains that her heart is in yourhands. You, Vincent, are capable of causing her much distress in yourunwillingness to acknowledge and deal with her love for you."

"Andif I am unwilling to acknowledge her love because it is not what Ifeel in return, what would you have me do? Would you rather that Icrush her with the brutal truth - that my heart and soul are as muchCatherine's today as they ever were? Do you think I should confess toher that I dream of Catherine, that I hear her voice, that I've even"felt" her inside of me again? Would it be better for Diana to knowthe truth of my desires? That my dreams are filled with the touch andtaste and scent of a woman dead for almost two years?"

Inobvious anguish, he whispered, "Do you really believe, Father, thatbaring my soul to Diana would cause her less pain than my silence?"

Fatheranswered without reservation. "I would have you do whatever it takes,Vincent, to prevent Diana from being misguided by your silence. Iwould have you do whatever it takes to prevent a repeat with Diana ofthe unfortunate misunderstanding that occurred with Lena. Believe me,the pain of confronting your enduring love for Catherine will be farbetter for Diana in the long run than having her hold on to a lie. .."

"Father,I pledge to you now that I will do everything in my power to protectDiana's heart. She is my friend, and I would not see her sufferbecause of feelings I cannot return. But likewise, you must allow meto see this thing through in my own way and in my own time."

Vincent'ssincerity was obvious. Father nodded somberly, and replied, "I hope,for her sake that you will be able to protect her from her ownemotions for you, Vincent. Diana is here to heal, not to be broughtto the brink of emotional collapse by feelings which you both havedanced around for the better part of a year."

Theominous tone of Father's pronouncement made the ensuing silenceoppressive, and just when Vincent thought their talk was over, hesuddenly sat up and reached across the table to place his hand overVincent's. Steely gray eyes bored into brilliant blue ones as hewhispered earnestly: "Know this, Vincent: You are no longer aninexperienced youth who I should either berate or order about on thismatter. You are a man; a father in your own right. You've knowndesire, and you've known love - but I wonder if you've ever faced thepower of physical need when coupled with loneliness and thetemptation of a willing woman?"

Pullinghis hand from under Father's, Vincent rose now, a smooth motion thatbelied the inner turmoil he felt and the doubts that Father's wordshad set off.

"Father,it is true that I do not fear intimacy as once I did. This is anothergift left to me by Catherine's love. But along with this has come theresponsibility I have, as any other man, to not take advantage ofanother, despite my physical needs."

Thelast Vincent said through clenched teeth and balled fists. Fathernoted his stance, and sighed with weary resignation. "Calm yourself,Vincent. I do not accuse you of lightly dealing with Diana's heart.It's more that you've ignored the problem altogether. Now that she isamong us, however, I merely warn you - as one man to another - thatpassion is a powerful force. It can be your greatest enemy inmaintaining an emotional distance from Diana; an enemy you would dowell not to underestimate in this effort of yours to keep fromhurting her. That you honor your friendship with Diana and would notintentionally tread upon her heart are not in question. But to knowyour weakness is to acknowledge the danger and guard yourself fromthe temptation that Diana presents."

"Whatdanger, Father? What temptation? What would you have me acknowledgethat I have not already done?"

"Whypassion, lust, desire or whatever you choose to call it, Vincent,"Father replied, genuinely puzzled that Vincent had still not figuredit out. Then too, Fatherthought, it is possible that perhaps he hasn't.More patient, and he hoped, less overbearing, he took a differentapproach.

"Ijust stated to you that passion is a powerful force, Vincent. You andDiana are alike in your attempts to submerge this part of yourselves.She channels her passion into her work, even at the expense of herwell-being. You focus yours on our community Below and all who fallunder your protection. But now, with her in our midst and within yourreach, that may not be as easy as you imagine. The proximity ofsomeone who is there, who is willing to soothe and comfort, with whomyou have established a friendship, if not love . . . may set intomotion desires you have, thus far, kept under firm control."

Vincentwhirled around suddenly and interrupted Father with an angry growl."And do you think I would allow my "desires," as you so politely termthem, to rule my head, Father? Have you forgotten that ever since theday I reached out for Lisa I have had to control my desires to thepoint of death? Yes, I admit that Diana is a beautiful, vibrantwoman, and I do care for her. But she is not Catherine! And I am notin love with her!"

NowFather rose from his seat, his own emotions rising at Vincent'swords, and he shot back with brutal honesty. "And do you reallythink, Vincent, that this is merely about love? Are you that naiveabout emotions and physical attraction that you give no thought tothe chemistry between you and Diana? Love will not be the decidingfactor should things get out of hand, son. It will be about needand opportunity. It will be about momentary weakness, and thehuman condition that makes one person reach out to another."

"Andyou truly believe these forces are greater than my commitment toCatherine and the love we shared?" Vincent asked in open arrogance.

"Catherine. . . is . . . dead!" Fatheryelled in exasperation. "Regardless of the love you have for hermemory, you can't hold her in your arms, Vincent, and all thememories in the world cannot change that one fact!"

Fatherwas not so far gone as to not know the devastating affect of hiswords, and his heart broke to see the abject despair now mirrored inVincent's expression. Drawing in a shuddering breath, he sat downwearily and rubbed his eyes. Then, releasing his hold on the emotionsand memories of his own complicated past, he whispered, "Vincent, Iof all men understand the power of both love and loneliness. You knowof my past and my love for Margaret. You know that I have nevermarried another, and yet how do you think Devin was conceived when myheart - my love - always belonged to Margaret?"

Vincentsuddenly looked up at Father, sensing a depth of sorrow he'd neverfelt from him before, and he realized the toll his admission had costhim. Now, Vincent, too slumped back into his chair. Haltingly, hereached out and touched Father's hand.

"Ididn't know...." he said, his voice a hoarse whisper.

"Howwould you know?" Father replied. "It was so hard in those early yearsBelow, and Grace was there - always supportive, comforting - muchlike Diana. She knew I didn't love her. Oh, certainly I cared abouther, but not the way she wanted, not the way she deserved. I havenever regretted being with Devin's mother. I have never regretted thepassion we shared. But I will forever live with the guilt that I wasnever able to return the same measure of love she unselfishly gave tome. And then when she died in childbirth with Devin . . . . ."

Silencenow engulfed the room, and Vincent realized just what had promptedFather to speak on this issue. His and Diana's predicament hit soclose to home, it could not be ignored. But Vincent also understood,even if Father did not, that regardless of the similarities ordifferences, his feelings for Catherine were far more than hisrefusal to accept the reality of her death. In his heart, she stilllived - as she did in his dreams, and as she had for a brief secondin their bond. He could no sooner forsake his love for Catherine thanhe could change the circumstances of his birth. Softly now, Vincent'svoice rumbled, low and with conviction.

"Father,Catherine is not dead.She lives inside me, in my dreams, my memories, my waking thoughts,and even in the depths of my passion. There is no place in my heartto love Diana, other than as my friend. But I will concede that youmay be correct, and Diana's presence may present a very realtemptation to me. For her sake and mine, I must bear that burden.That is the only guarantee I can give you that Diana will be safehere, among us, and with me. Father, I am grateful for Diana'spresence in my life, but I do not love her, and without that love, Icould never truly give myself to her. Anything else she might havefrom me would only be physical release and a cruel mockery of love."

Suddenlyovercome with the truth of his words and the memories that gavesubstance to that truth, Vincent turned away from Father. Hisbreathing was slightly labored as he fought to control the rush offeelings that coursed through him. Thoughts of Catherine, their love,and the circumstances that made it necessary for him to now expressthe depth of his feelings for a woman who everyone considered deadleft him emotionally drained. Finally, he acknowledged to himselfthat all he could do was give Father the truth of his feelings. Itwas up to him to accept his words as the only reality Vincent wouldentertain, and thus he began to speak again.

"Iknow everyone believes that I simply refuse to accept Catherine'sdeath, and maybe that is a part of it. But Father, the greater partis that we were bonded, she and I, not only for life, but for alleternity. She is no longer with me physically, but her love surroundsme, soothes me, and even . . . satisfies . . . my desires. There aretimes when her presence burns through me so intensely that I know -I know - that she is with me, and the warmth of thatlove fills me, holds me, eases my loneliness and my longings . . ."

Theheat of embarrassment warmed Vincent's face as he admitted howintrinsically linked he was to Catherine, beyond death and beyond thegrave. Pushing away the urge to flee Father's all too perceptiveeyes, he forged on relentlessly.

"IfI can experience such joy - such completion - clinging to the specterof Catherine, can you imagine what it was like for me . . . theintensity of joy that we shared when she was by my side? And how,Father, could anyone else replace those feelings? How could I bringmyself to reach out for what would pale in comparison? At someelemental level of my soul that makes me all that I am, I remainjoined to her. It is true that I am incomplete without her, but nottruly unfulfilled, for she is still with me. Please don't ask me toexplain this to you any further, only believe me when I tell you thatDiana cannot replace that which was never lost inside my heart."

Resistingthe urge to argue further, Father suddenly acquiesced. In Vincent'swords, Father had glimpsed, for the briefest moment, the power of thelove that kept his son bound to the memory of Catherine Chandler pastall rational explanation. For that moment he had seen into theprivate world that Vincent and Catherine had created for themselves,and the magnitude of their love rendered him speechless. For thefirst time he truly understood what Catherine meant just before sheentered the cave to rescue Vincent at a time when it had seemed thathis humanity had been lost forever. She'd said, Father he is mylife. Without him, there is nothing.

Obviously,she was his life, as well, and regardless of the physical separationcaused by her death, Catherine was truly alive. She lived in Vincent:not as a rose-colored memory, but as a real force within his soul,sustaining him and loving him. Despite the reality of her demise, itwas as if the her spirit, her love, her goodness and generosity hadovercome the grave to keep alive the dream they once shared. It wasthis realization that brought Father to reluctantly recognize theenormity of the chasm which separated the love Vincent had forCatherine from that he had once held for Margaret. Father knew thathis love of Margaret had been real, but Vincent's love for Catherinewas not only real, it was as unique and as different as he was.

Fathernow accepted with a new clarity that he might never understand allthe facets of his son, and with a tinge of regret, he told him, "Youare right, Vincent, I do not completely understand; and I hope youwill forgive me for once again jumping to the conclusion that youneeded my warning."

Theunderlying apology in his words were not loss on Vincent, and brieflyhis hand tightened around Father's hoping to offer the reassurancehis parent now needed.

"Youare too hard on yourself, Father," Vincent said with a small shake ofhis head. "Your unwavering love for me has always been thecornerstone of my life. Catherine's love is the depth and breadth ofall that I am, and as Jacob's father, I understand your concern. ButFather, we both know that we will allow Diana to remain Below, and wewill help her to heal. I will do all within my power not to encourageDiana's feelings, for she can never give me what I had in Catherine.And if I cannot have Catherine in my arms, I will not use Diana forwhat would be a poor substitute to soothe my lust or loneliness - forin truth, it would soothe neither."

Standingnow, Vincent walked around to Father and placed a gentle kiss on theolder man's cheek. "Please Father, do not worry. Things will workout," he whispered.

Stillunsure how Vincent had ended their talk still believing that thingswould just work themselves out, Father shook his head ruefully andwatched as his son left the chamber. There was no chance in all ofheaven or hell that he would not worry, for he understood Diana andher will was nearly as formidable as Vincent's. Alone, he rememberedanother time when he had been helpless to stop the flow of eventsthat surrounded Vincent. Then it had involved Catherine as she stayedBelow to heal from the death of her father. Now, it involved Diana.With a sad shake of his head, he realized that all he could do now -all he had been able to do then - was watch and pray.

Outsideof Father's chamber, Vincent hastily threw his great cloak over hisshoulders. He knew he should check with Mary and reclaim Jacob, buthe could feel that his son was sleeping, his slumber a gentle rhythmin his mind. For now, he desired only to walk off the tension of histalk with Father until he had regained a measure of peace. Thus, withhis focus directed inward, Vincent took the seldom-used tunnel thatbranched off to the Catacombs and, in so doing, failed to notice thefigure of a woman pressed hard against the indentation of a stonealcove only a few feet from Father's entrance. It was only after hisfootsteps became a faint echo that Diana stepped forward. The sheenof tears on her cheeks stood out starkly against her anguished face.Yet it was the fierce glint of determination in her eyes that flaredin the shadows of her hiding place and gave testament to all she hadoverheard.