Dark Corner Part 32

David closed the Bible. He sipped the coffee, his stomach fluttering with excitement. Everything was beginning to fall into place.

"Now," he said. "Vampires are supposed to be immortal. Diallo scribbled a message on the wall about rising again to slay his enemies, then he dug himself a grave, and went to sleep. In the movies, vampires can sleep for a long time for years, really."

"So Diallo slept until his son, Kyle, came to town and dug him up," Nia said. She suddenly put down her mug. "d.a.m.n. I know why people have been disappearing."

"Why?" he said. He sensed that he knew the reason, too.

"Diallo has been asleep for, what, a hundred and fifty plus years?" Nia said. "He needs to be revitalized, to have his strength restored. He's been drinking the blood of the people who have dropped out of sight."

"You've got to be right. Kyle is hunting people-food for Diallo. Kyle and those demon dogs"

"I'm afraid to think about how many people he's taken" Nia lowered her head. "I really doubt they're alive."

"Unfortunately, you're probably right. But I'm willing to bet that Kyle took the victims to the Mason place. Diallo has to be there"

"Where else?" She laughed bitterly. "But as bad as things have been, we haven't seen the worst of this yet. When Diallo is healthy and starts walking around, all h.e.l.l is going to break loose. I can feel it. Those drawings are like a warning of what we've got ahead of us"

"True" David tapped his lip. "But there's an x-factor in the mix."

"The big black bird we saw outside," she said. "The bats."

"Someone is protecting us. Kyle shouted at the raven, 'You can't stop me.' Then the bats attacked him and the dogs. Someone wants to keep us alive. But who, and why? I've got no idea."

"Whoever it is, they can't really be a bird," Nia said. "You think?"

"Nia, at this point, nothing would surprise me. Shoot, I wouldn't be surprised if King opened his mouth and started singing like James Brown"

The dog turned in their direction, ears perked.

"I'm grateful to whomever helped us," David said, "but I'm afraid to trust that they'll bail us out again. We don't know this person's agenda. For all we know, they might only be keeping us from harm until Diallo finds us"

"He's going to be so p.i.s.sed when he finds out who you are," Nia said. "The ancestor of the man who penned him up in the cave. That scares me, David."

David reached across the table and grasped her hands in his.

"It scares me, too," he said. "But we've got to stay strong, figure out how we can win this thing once and for all. My ancestor's legacy has fallen to me, Nia. But, G.o.d knows, I have no idea what to do. I'm flying by the seat of my pants"

"Let's call Chief Jackson, for starters," she said. She went to the wall phone and punched in the number that was scrawled on the phone's console. "h.e.l.lo, this is Nia James. May I speak to Chief Jackson, please? He's not available? Can you page him? It's urgent"

Nia shook her head sadly. She hung up.

"He's not around," she said, "and he can't be reached"

"Then we'll try him first thing tomorrow morning."

"What do we do tonight?" she asked.

"Stay inside, then go on-line and research vampires, I guess. And most important of all: stay alive."

Diallo was in the bas.e.m.e.nt, watching television, when Kyle returned.

His father sat upright in bed, pillows plumped behind his back, viewing a history doc.u.mentary. As part of Kyle's plan to aid Diallo's adjustment to modern life, he had provided an extensive library of films, books, and audio tapes for his fa ther to study. By candlelight, Diallo would watch videos, read, and listen to ca.s.settes from dusk until sunrise, breaking only to feed. Diallo pursued his studies with the same single-minded focus with which he fed on live prey.

He learned rapidly, too. In little more than a week, he displayed a knowledge of contemporary society, politics, and culture that astonished Kyle. His father had frequently engaged him in challenging, thought-provoking conversations.

This will be one of the more challenging discussions, Kyle thought, as he went to the bed.

Diallo lifted the remote control and muted the television volume. "What happened, my son?"

In a low, halting voice, Kyle explained the debacle that had occurred when he encountered the young man, David Hunter.

"Lisha is protecting this man," Diallo said. "Do not be ashamed. There was nothing you could have done. Her power is too great."

"But why would she care about a human? She attacked me to protect a man!"

Diallo folded his hands behind his head. Kyle had expected his father to be enraged, but he appeared amusedpleased, even.

"This incident proves our suspicious are true, my son. David Hunter is a direct descendent of the man who imprisoned me. Lisha is wise. She understands how the hand of Destiny loves to repeat its moves. She knows that to fulfill her wishes, she should work with Destiny, not against it."

"I don't understand"

"Your mother wants to destroy me," Diallo said in a flat voice. "My existence is a threat to her. She worries, as she always has, that my acts of vengeance will call attention to our kind and risk shattering the safe sh.e.l.l of anonymity in which she lives. She cares only about self-preservation."

"But why keep this man safe? What makes him so valuable?"

"Do you still not understand? It is the man's lineage that makes him so crucial to the success of her mission to rid the earth of me. Lisha believes that he will respond to the call of duty, to attempt to destroy me-as his forefather attempted. Ordinary men can be stirred to great courage when their family's legacy is at stake. I know, for I was once such a man myself."

Kyle absorbed his father's words, reluctantly admitting that he was right. It was painful to think that Mother could be so selfish in preserving her own safety. She had said that she loved both him and Diallo, but how could you love someone and then partic.i.p.ate in bringing about their demise? It was mad.

"Lisha is a masterful strategist," Diallo said. "But she is not omnipotent. My strength is building, and I will attain more power than she realizes. Enough to defeat her attempts to intervene with my destiny." Diallo's eyes burned. The candle flames in the chamber danced, as if blown by a wind.

Kyle clenched his hands into fists.

"Tell me what to do, Father," he said.

In response, Diallo raised his hand.

Across the bas.e.m.e.nt, the storm doors flew open with a crash.

Outdoors, the dogs had gathered around the doorway. A young woman stood in their midst-the same human Kyle had let escape the other night. But she was no longer an ordinary woman. She wore a ragged hospital gown stained with mud and blood. Stringy hair was matted against her face, and dried blood stained her chin. Her eyes were full of hunger, inhuman need.

"She is one of the valduwe," Diallo said softly. "The first one we've created. I summoned her to us ""

Her bare feet frosted with dirt, the woman floated down the stone steps and into the cellar. She approached Kyle.

Kyle had seen a valduwe only once, decades ago, and he marveled at his father's creation.

"I'm hungry," the female said in a raspy voice. She watched Kyle expectantly.

Kyle looked at his father, confused.

"She will obey you, as she obeys me," Diallo said. "Take her and the dogs. Invade the town and multiply our numbers. It is time to build our army."

David and Nia spent the rest of the evening in the office, surfing the Internet for information about vampires: specifically, how to kill them.

The house was silent. The only noises were the hum of the air conditioner, and the occasional snuffling of the wind at the windows. David had relaxed a little, but he kept the gun at his side.

As they researched, he questioned the value of their findings. Every resource they found explained how vampires were destroyed in fiction. They found nothing that described how a bonafide bloodsucker could be defeated. And why would they? No one really believed the monsters were real.

"There's nothing new here," he finally told Nia, after they'd spent over two hours at the computer. She sat beside him near the desk, a notepad and pen in her lap.

"Protect yourself with a crucifix, garlic, and holy water," Nia said, running down her list. "Drive a wooden stake into their hearts, chop off their heads, burn their bodies to ashes. Drag them into the sunlight-"

"Sunlight doesn't kill them," David said. "Kyle's been walking around during the day, though he covers his skin."

"Right," she said. "He sure as h.e.l.l didn't burst into flames, the way the vampires in the movies do "" She closed her notebook. "You're right, there's nothing new. We might as well watch reruns of Buffy. It would be more fun"

"I doubt religious symbols will hurt them, either." David picked up the old Bible. "Kyle was carrying this, remember? According to folklore, holding something like a Bible should've scorched his hands"

"Oh, I forgot about that. You're right."

"So we're back to square one. Guns. Fire, too, I think. Fire would have to hurt them"

"I agree," she said. "We have to talk to the chief first thing tomorrow morning. We need to get him on our side so we can let everyone in town know what's happening, get people to be careful and protect themselves."

"I only hope he believes us" David yawned. His watch read twelve-thirty. He was wiped out.

"Someone's getting sleepy." Nia stretched her arms above her head. "I could turn in myself."

"Are you staying here? I don't want you going outdoors and driving home tonight."

"I'm staying, I only need to call Mama to check on her."

He propped himself up on the crutches and moved away from the computer to prepare for bed. Brushing his teeth while leaning on one leg was a challenge. Changing into boxer shorts and a T-shirt was another trying task.

How am I going to do anything with a twisted ankle? he thought. I'm useless.

Nia dressed in one of David's Atlanta Falcons T-shirts, the bottom of the shirt ending just above her knees.

"Mama's fine," she said. "Princess is there to keep her company, so I think she'll be okay. She doesn't like me staying over here, though"

"Laying up with that no-good Hunter boy," he said.

"If only she knew. I wouldn't dare tell her what's really happening, yet. She'd commit me"

They switched off the lights and slid underneath the bedsheets. King settled near the bed, a shadowy shape in the dark room.

They held each other, and there was nothing s.e.xual about their touching. Both of them needed the rea.s.suring embrace and warmth of a companion's body.

David tried to avoid dwelling on what tomorrow would bring, but he couldn't help it. Would they find Chief Jackson and win his support? What about Franklin? Would he really metamorphose into ...

He pushed the troubling thought out of his mind. He sank into sleep.

He dreamed that he lay on the bed, on top of the sheets, alone. A whispery breeze stirred the curtains; the window was open. A large black bird was perched on the windowsill, watching him. A raven.

The bird hopped off the ledge and fluttered to the floor. It strutted toward him ... and suddenly transformed into a slim, tall, dark-skinned woman, exquisitely beautiful, dressed in a flowing midnight-blue gown.

Who are you? he said.

The woman only smiled. She came to the bed. She placed her hands on his ankle. Her touch was warm. He did not want to do anything to disturb her comforting touch.

A soft, bluish glow came from her hands, the strange energy flowing like electric current into his limb. His ankle tingled.

I don't know what she's doing to me, but it feels wonderful.

After several seconds, the woman removed her hands and stepped away from the bed.

Get up and walk, David Hunter, she said. Her clear, resonant voice was like the call of a G.o.ddess. She smiled. She floated toward the window ... and metamorphosed into the raven. The bird leapt onto the window ledge, turned to look at him, and then soared into the night.

Get up and walk ...

David snapped out of the dream with a start.

Nia was asleep. King slumbered as well.

Blackness filled the bedroom. The window was not open, as it had been in the dream. It was sealed shut, and the curtains were still.

The glowing red digits on the bedside clock read 1:47.

He sighed. He had never had such a vivid dream in his life. He remembered every detail of the woman: her beauty, her cool composure ... her command.

He wriggled his toes. He felt a faint tingling sensation in his ankle, but no pain.

Heart pounding, he swung his legs to the side of the bed.

The crutches leaned against the wall, but he did not reach for them. Not yet.

Holding his breath, he slowly pushed himself off the mattress, to a standing position.

He felt no pain or weakness in his ankle.

Slowly, cold sweat slicking his face, he walked across the room. His ankle supported him as it normally would.

He had been healed.

Half dizzy with wonder, he went to the window, peeled back the curtain.

The raven stood on the branch of the maple tree near the house. The bird regarded him cooly.