Dark Corner (67 page)

Alien. He would never understand her, and wasn't entirely sure he wanted to, either.

"Okay, can I ask you one thing?" David said. "The ghost
that Diallo saw before he died, who was it?"

"That was not my doing, child," Lisha said. "Every soul
has its hopes. Even the soul of a monster such as Diallo."

"I don't get it."

"It is not relevant for you to understand. You have fulfilled your family's legacy, David Hunter. Be proud of that. Not all of those in your bloodline were quite as capable. You
are very special."

David blushed. "Well, thank you"

Lisha reached forward and touched his cheek with her
long, slender fingers. Her touch was warm.

"One day," she whispered, "perhaps we shall meet again.
Until then, someone else would like to converse with you."

She smiled and, in a swirl of silk, whirled around and returned inside the limousine.

The curiously familiar man who had been waiting beside
the vehicle approached David.

David's heart boomed. The man's walk, it was too familiar.
His hands, too familiar. Then, when his lips broadened into a
smile, recognition hit David like a club against his temple.

It was his father.

Richard Hunter removed his shades.

David stuttered, "What ... what ... what ..

"What am I doing with Lisha?" Richard said, his voice as
suave as ever. "I'm her companion, of course"

"That can't be," David said. Certainly, his eyes were fooling him, or he was the victim of a cruel prank. "You died, at
sea

"A disappearing act, son," his father said. "Madam Lisha
has resources and connections that would boggle the mind."

`Bullshit. You're lying to me, like you always do"

Richard only smiled, characteristically impervious to insults.
His eyes were familiar, yet strange. The irises were darker and
deeper, it seemed, as if something cold and alien had taken residence in his body.

"I'm dismayed that you did not suspect it all along,
David," his father said. "You found one of her letters to me,
correct? It was underneath the nightstand drawer in the master bedroom"

"But that was written by someone named Elizabeth,"
David said. His head throbbed. This was really too much for
him. This was it. He was going to lose it.

Richard smiled. "Come now, son. You're cleverer than that.
Lisha ... Elizabeth. She employed a childishly transparent
nom de plume."

"What about the photo you took at the Mason place?"

"Merely a shot for an interview in a literary magazine,
nothing of great importance; they wanted me to pose near a
local landmark." Richard chuckled. "You made this much
more complicated than you needed to, David. The truth was
always simple."

"But why did you do it?" David said.

"Do you need to ask?" Richard said. "When I left behind
my mortal life, I provided all of the financial benefits that
you and your mother could ever wish for. And I get to enjoy
everlasting life as the companion of a fabulously beautiful
and wise creature. Do you think that was a difficult decision
for me to make? You would have done the same thing if you
were given the opportunity."

David shook his head. He felt ill. "So it was all about
what you wanted for yourself, as always. Just so you know,
I'm doing fine without your fortune. You can take it back. I
don't want it."

"Dispose of it as you wish," Richard said. "It's no longer
a concern of mine. I did not come here to revive old domestic squabbles. I only want to tell you that I'm proud of what
you did." Richard paused. "You've grown into an admirable
man, David. And ... well, more of a man than I ever was"

David only stared at him.

His father awkwardly patted him on the shoulder. He replaced his shades and strolled to the limousine.

The driver closed the passenger door, then got behind the
wheel. The limousine disappeared down the street.

David felt as though he had been punished by a boxer.
His head hurt; his stomach ached. He wanted nothing more
than to lie down, sleep for two days, and forget that this incident had ever happened.

Numb, he shuffled back to the house.

Nia stepped outside and met him on the porch.

"Who were those people?" she said. "I feel strange saying this, but that man ... he kinda looked like your father."

"No," David said. He pulled Nia into his arms, desperately needing to feel someone who was indisputably real and
lasting in his life. He held her so close that he felt the throbbing of her heart against his chest. "I thought it was my father. But my father is dead"

He kissed her, and they walked inside the house together.

He awoke in darkness.

His eyes were sore, his vision blurry, yet they adjusted
sufficiently to the gloom for him to recognize his surroundings.

He was in the cave.

You will live, his father had promised him, implanting the
thought in his soul, like a command. His consciousness hovered above his fire-ravaged corpse, as though he were the
guardian spirit of his own body; he had watched his father
carry him in his arms through the night. His father had brought
him to the cave. His father had opened a cut in his own wrist
and let the magical blood trickle into his ruined mouth.

You will live, his father promised. But to live, you must
Sleep.

In the depths of the cave, his father dug a grave for him.
Tenderly, he placed the body in the earthen pit, covering him
with a blanket of raw earth.

Sleep, my son. And live.

So he had Slept. He did not know how long he had been
Asleep. Not long enough, not yet. Although he had poked
his head through the surface of the dirt, and his vision functioned, much of his physical body continued to slowly work
through the regeneration process. No one had ever resurrected a vampire from death. His father had performed a
miracle.

I will live, my father. I promise you.

His gaze traveled across the limestone walls. Above him,
he discovered the inscription that his father had engraved in
the rock, well over a century ago.

I will live ... and ... I shall rise again to slay my enemies.