Dark Corner (30 page)

He would learn the identity of the human who had taken
away his father.

He would begin with the young man who had possessed
the Bible: David Hunter.

David awoke to warm kisses on his cheek.

"Hi, Nia," he said, groggy, and reached out and touched
an unexpectedly furry head. He blinked. "King!" He wiped
the dog's saliva from his face with the heel of his hand.

The German shepherd breathed in David's face, grinning.

"You wild and crazy mutt" David laughed. His laugh was
cut short by a sliver of rawness in his throat. He had never
been so thirsty.

He lay on the bed in the master bedroom of the house, a
thin blanket tucked over his body, the ceiling fan spinning
slowly. Gray daylight slanted through the curtains. The bedside clock read 3:24.

The day was far from over, but he'd had enough adventure for a week. It hurt his head to think about everything
that had happened. None of it made any kind of rational
sense.

Nia walked into the room. She had changed into a pink
blouse and shorts, and had wound her hair into a ponytail.

"You're a sight for sore eyes," he said.

"I'm glad you're awake," she said. Carrying a tall glass of
water, she smiled and sat beside him on the bed. Gently, she
touched his head. "You're in bad shape, Mr. Hunter. You
twisted your ankle, then passed out from heat exhaustion.
Here, have a sip." She brought the water toward him.

He raised into a sitting position, and she helped him
drink. Water had never tasted so good.

"I lost my bag," he said. "The Bible was in there"

"Sorry, we weren't able to go back to get it. If we had
tried. . ."

"I know." He sighed. "Where's Franklin?"

"He's home. He plans to go see the girl in the hospital
whenever she wakes up again. He wants to question her
about what she saw last night."

"Did he reach any conclusions about what we saw at the
cave?"

"Not really. We only have more questions. Like, why that
guy, Kyle, was dressed all in black in hot weather, covering
up his whole body, practically."

"I thought about that the first time I met him. Weird."

"How did he control the dogs the way he did? We don't
know the answer to that, either. Franklin's own dog acted
like he didn't recognize him, remember?"

"I sure do" David pointed at King. "You ever act like you
don't know me, King, and I'll disown you"

King licked his fingers.

"What I wonder is how my father has anything to do with
what's happening," he said. "Pearl hinted that he was connected, somehow, but she couldn't give any details. It's a
mystery."

"I don't have a clue, either. But Franklin is convinced that
this Kyle guy is responsible for the disappearances in town.
He and his killer dogs"

"I'd sure like to go with Franklin when he visits the girl in
the hospital."

"Negative, Mr. Hunter. You're staying right here until you
heal. You're in no shape to be running around playing the intrepid investigator."

He shifted his leg to test his condition, and a vise of pain
tightened around his ankle. He grimaced.

"Okay, you're right." He leaned back against the pillow.
"Talk about bad timing. This has to be the worst possible
time for me to get hurt"

"While you were sleeping, I went to my house and picked
up a pair of crutches. I suffered my share of injuries in my
track running days, you know." She motioned behind her, indicating the aluminum crutches that leaned against the armoire.

He took her hand in his. "Thank you for taking care of
me, Nia. I don't know what I'd do without you"

"You're welcome." She smiled. She leaned down and
kissed him softly on the lips.

"Hmm. Your lips taste like orange and spice," he said.

"It's the tea I was drinking. I found a stash in the kitchen
cabinet. I hope you don't mind."

"Mi casa es su casa, senorita. A few more of those kisses,
and I won't be the only one lying across the bed"

"You can't handle any vigorous physical activity in your
condition," she said, but she kissed him again.

He slid his arms around her waist. His hand roved under
her shirt, traced circles across her back.

She peeled aside the bedsheet and carefully moved on top
of him, straddling his body.

"Oooh." She reached down and felt his erection. "One
muscle sure isn't sprained." She squeezed, teasingly.

He unbuttoned her blouse, slid it off her shoulders. He
smoothly unhooked her bra. Her full, firm breasts tumbled
out.

Her nipples, rigid with her arousal, were like chocolate
drops. He kissed them, tasting their sweetness, and began to
flick his tongue across them. She moaned.

"You are so lovely," he whispered. "No matter what happens to me while I'm here, coming was worth it so that I
could meet you."

She placed her lips against his neck and slowly moved
downward, kissing each inch of him, until she reached his
navel. Her kisses left a trail of pleasurable sensations tingling on his skin.

He ran his fingers through her hair, moved his hands down
and cupped her breasts, massaged them with his thumbs.

She rolled down his boxer shorts. She took his erection in
her hand, slowly stroked him up and down. Ripples of pleasure spread through him.

"You sure you want to do this?" he said.

"Yes, I want to do this. I want to do you"

He reached out, grasped the drawer handle of the nightstand, and yanked so hard the drawer flew off the runners
and crashed against the floor.

A laugh burst from Nia. "Has it been that long, sweetie?"

He chuckled, too. "It's been long enough"

"Hold on, I'll get them" She began to move from on top
of him.

Summoned by the crash, King came back in the room,
ears raised. Before Nia could reach the unopened box of
Trojan condoms, the dog plunged his snout into the items
that spilled out of the drawer, and came up with the condoms
snared in his teeth.

"King!" David said. "Get back here!"

"Be a honey, King, and give those to me," Nia said.

The dog, perhaps overwhelmed by the attention and thinking it was time to play, darted out of the room, tail wagging.

Nia rolled her eyes. "Your dog is something else. I'll be
back right back-after I give him a Mississippi beat-down."
She pulled on her blouse and hurried out of the room.

I feel like I'm living in a movie, David thought. And whoever is directing can't decide whether he wants a horror flick,
or a comedy.

His gaze happened across the drawerless slot in the nightstand. A manilla, business-size envelope lay within. A letter?

He plucked it out of the gap.

"All right, baby," Nia said. She came into the room and
held up a couple of wrapped condoms. "I salvaged two before
your mutt tore up the box. If you ask me, I think he's jealous."

"Bring your dog next time to keep him company,"
David said, absently. The mail was addressed to his father;
it had his Mason's Corner address in black, typed characters. It bore a London return address and was postmarked
in London, England, six years ago.

Nia sat beside him. "Where'd you get that?"

"It was in there" He pointed to the empty space. "It
must've been hidden underneath the drawer."

"Hidden? That's strange"

He touched her leg. "As much as I hate to say this, I think
we'll have to postpone getting our love thang on, right now.
I've gotta check this out. It might be important."

"I was going to suggest the same thing, though my body's
gonna need a minute to cool down. You had a sista ready."

"Not as ready as I was" He kissed her quickly. "Don't
worry, I'm a fast reader"

"Hmph. Something tells me you won't be able to rush
through reading it. You'd better take your time."

His palms oiled with sweat, he carefully opened the envelope.

At home, as he waited for Ruby to call and inform him
that the young woman in the hospital had awakened,
Franklin settled into his study and continued to research
their findings at the cave.

This was, by far, the most intriguing historical research
he'd ever done. He felt that he walked along the brink of a
discovery that would shatter everything he thought he knew
about Dark Corner. It was both exciting and a bit frightening, too. But he was compelled to continue.

The study was his favorite room in the house. Several
maple bookcases lined the walls, containing over a thousand
volumes on topics such as history, politics, philosophy, and
culture. He had read most of the titles on the shelves, but in
recent years, he had turned increasingly to the Internet for
his reading material.

His huge maple desk was the centerpiece of the study. A
late-model, laptop computer sat on the desktop. It was connected to a cable modem, ensuring a speedy Web connection.

A glass of iced tea close at hand, Franklin sat in a leather
chair and tapped away on the laptop. He had uploaded the
digital photographs he had taken at the cave into his computer; the pictures filled the display. He examined each of
them, and stopped at the image of the engraving on the wall.
He enlarged the photo.

I shall rise again to slay my enemies.

He possessed only a general knowledge of Diallo. He had
found more information about the man on an African history
Web site. A Morehouse College student had written his master's thesis on high-ranking persons in west Africa who
found themselves victims of the American slave trade, and
the havoc it wreaked on their psyches.

Diallo was born in Mali in seventeen sixty-seven. For
twenty-eight years, he lived as a village prince and became a
feared warrior. In seventeen ninety five, Diallo was defeated in
a battle, and sold to European slave traders. He was shipped
from Africa to Virginia, where he was purchased by a planter
named John Foster.

Diallo was a troublesome slave. Standing seven feet tall
and weighing three hundred pounds, he was prone to violent
rages, and struck terror in his masters. After he had been enslaved for only three years, he killed an overseer for beating afe-
male slave-an act that required he be put to death. Before his
punishment could be dispensed, however, John Foster took the
unusual step of agreeing to sell Diallo to an anonymous
buyer.

Nothing is known of what became of Prince Diallo afterward...

Franklin could not find any resources that provided further information on what happened to Diallo after he was
sold to the mysterious buyer. The man dropped off the history storyboard completely.

That is, until he turned up in the Hunter's family Bible, in
which he was portrayed as a murderous giant.

Immured in a cave, buried in a grave he may have dug
himself, his corpse retrieved over a century and a half later by
a man who claimed to be Diallo's descendant, a man who
called himself Kyle Coiraut.

Kyle Coiraut, who shielded his skin from the sun and displayed a supernatural ability to manipulate canines. Kyle Coiraut, who seemed to be responsible for the disappearances of two people in town.

What did any of it have to do with a dead African prince?

The key to unlocking the mystery was Kyle Coiraut. Why
was he there? Who was he really?

Or perhaps the proper question was: what was he?

Franklin clicked on another Web browser window. He'd
done a search on the phrase "allergic to sunlight." Two subjects appeared frequently in search results: xeroderma pig-
mentosum, a rare genetic disorder that put one at extreme
risk of developing skin cancer due to exposure to ultraviolet
light. And vampires.

Vampires.

Franklin was an educated man. But the more he learned
about the world, the more he understood that humanity's
grasp of reality was tenuous. The world was full of mysteries
that defied rational explanation. It was easy for one who
lived in a technological society to dismiss many things as
primitive superstition.

But vampires? Not Hollywood characters, fictional creatures, or deranged people who sucked blood and dressed in
black. But real vampires?

It was madness.

But Franklin could not dismiss it. So many bizarre incidents were occurring that he could not afford to dismiss anything.

Set aside my doubts and imagine it could be true, Franklin
thought. What if Kyle Coiraut is a vampire? He travels to
Mason's Corner to retrieve Diallo's body from its earthen
grave. Why?

What if Diallo is a vampire, too? What if he had been
trapped in the cave, hibernating like a monstrous bear, until
Kyle Coiraut found him?

The phone rang, and its shrill ring nearly tore a scream
out of him.

It was his wife. "Frank, the girl's starting to wake up. If you want to see her, hurry and get here before she falls
asleep again."

"I'll be there shortly, dear."

Vampires in Dark Corner.

Franklin hoped his suspicions were wrong. Dear God, he
prayed that he was wrong.

P'+unday, Jackson took a vacation from being chief. He
U changed into ordinary clothes-a button-down shirt and
jeans-and got in his off-duty vehicle, a Ford pickup. The
truck did not have a police radio, and he left behind his cell
phone, too.