Lightning Game (GhostWalkers #17) -Christine Feehan Page 0,106

also was astute. He’d been watching them closely each time they came back to the mountains. Knowing how intelligent Luther really was, Rubin was wondering just how much Diego and he had inadvertently given away.

“We’ll get Jonquille back,” Diego said, confidence in his voice. “Did you take out their equipment?” If he had, that would be one less thing to do.

“’Course I did. You think cuz I’m old I lost my brains?”

“I’ll ponder on that for a piece before I answer,” Diego responded.

Rubin wasn’t so certain he wanted to be between the two of them. Diego, I’ve been thinking quite a bit about that sequence of strikes Jonquille hit me with. After we used the indigo bunting, I remembered a conversation we had about songs. It was all about various songs we knew about that had lightning in the lyrics. Some were modern, some not. We knew most of the same ones, but she mentioned one I hadn’t heard of. It was by a group out of Liverpool, I believe. In any case, she repeated the lyrics to me and then sang a phrase. She repeated it several times. When she did, she tapped the rhythm on her thigh. I watched her fingers moving, and it was fascinating how she did it.

Diego processed in his mind, watching the images Rubin replayed.

The little strikes with Jonquille’s fingers on her thigh as she tapped were not as if she were playing an instrument but as if she were the lightning striking a specific target on the ground. The rhythm to the song was mellow, almost sweet, not at all hard-hitting like a bolt of lightning would be. When I matched those taps on her thigh to the ones of the sequence, they seem to fit.

Rubin waited for his brother’s assessment. If he was right, they could use the sequence to write short messages to Jonquille. Clearly, she didn’t feel any communication longer than that specific sequence was safe, even using code. Someone had to be able to monitor her telepathically.

I think you’re right, Rubin. I think that’s exactly what she’s using, Diego agreed.

Why are you baiting Luther?

So he doesn’t notice that you look like crap. Not that it’s working. Diego sounded rueful. And he likes it.

“We’re coming up on the tunnel leading to the spring where those soldiers are camping. The entrance to the caves is much closer to their campsite than I’d like.” Luther had dropped his voice to a whisper. “The opening there is a natural one. That’s how I first discovered the caves.” He stopped altogether and turned to face them. “Their campsite is almost below the entrance by about twenty yards. It’s a slope with rocks and grass. They only went to the top to try to get better views, but they didn’t do much in the way of exploring, not that they would have seen the entrance, at least I don’t think they would have.”

“I’ll go out first,” Diego said. “Can you give me a good layout of their camp?”

Luther nodded. “I spent some time studying it before I decided to take them on. Might have left them alone, but they decided to hunt me. On my own land too.”

“Probably heard about your reputation,” Diego said. “Didn’t want you coming after them.”

“You said they were there to tear up my meadow? The minute they started that, I would have declared war,” Luther said decisively. Never once did he forget to whisper. “I like your woman’s name, Rubin. Easter lily. Or daffodil. Your ma would have liked her name.”

Rubin nodded. “She would have liked her. She’s a good woman. Lotty would have approved of her too.”

“When you first go out of the cave, you have to be careful. The camp is right below. They aren’t great in the woods, but they are watchful. They’re nervous. I noticed that right away. They have one good man, the boss. You’re going to have to take him out as fast as possible. He’s not only the brains, but he’s got eyes and ears.”

“The ones coming with Jonquille are like him. Maybe even better,” Rubin supplied. “They’re fast in the trees. Like flying squirrels. Never saw anything like it, Luther.”

Luther was silent for a long moment and then he sighed. “I served my country in several wars. Men go to their graves carrying secrets they swore to keep, and I’m no different, but I don’t think you’re going to be too surprised when I tell you that experiments began years ago, far