Read Online The Diablo Horror (The River Book 7) by Michael Richan - Free Book Online

of him ourselves.”
    “I should be charged,” Steven said. “Charged, tried, and
incarcerated.”
    “You killed him in a dream, a dream you were forced to have,”
Roy said. “We still don’t know how he actually died.”
    “Doesn’t matter. I know what I did.”
    “You know what the ghost wanted you to believe.”
    “That’s no ghost in the back seat, Dad. He’s gone.” Steven
began crying again, wiping the tears from his face with the back of his hand.
    “I hate to say this, but we have to bury him, somewhere. And soon.”
    “It’s not fair. It’s not right. I don’t want him buried
someplace out in a forest, some anonymous grave to hide what I did.”
    “Well,” Roy said, “why don’t we bury him somewhere beautiful,
then? Like under the banyan tree at Eximere? Next to Thomas, his ancestor?”
    As Steven thought of this, he felt a small fraction of his
anguish peel off. They had never been able to show Eximere to Jason while he
was alive, but it was the perfect place for him to rest. Private, beautiful,
and somehow appropriate for a gifted.
    “Alright,” Steven said. “Eliza will have to know the truth,
if he’s going to rest there.”
    “We’ll tell her,” Roy said. “We’ll have to. She’ll
understand. She’s been involved with Eximere and the demon from the beginning.”
    “Are we going to tell her I killed him?”
    “I’ll leave that in your hands to decide.”
    “What about the rest of the world? Jason becomes a missing
person?”
    “I can’t see any other way. Let them discover him missing at
his apartment. When the investigations start, we’ll have to say we never saw
him.”
    Steven broke down crying again. “I loved him,” he said,
trying to drive with tears streaming down his face.
    Roy reached over and grabbed Steven’s shoulder, a rare
display of physical affection. “I did too,” he said, giving his shoulder a pat.
“I did too.”
     
    ◊
     
    “So you dropped the old man at home so we could have some
alone time,” the man said as he sat on a chair in Steven’s living room.
    “I assume you know what happened,” Steven said, walking to a
closet and hanging up his coat.
    “I know there’s a dead body in your car downstairs,” the man
said. “So it didn’t go as well as it might have.”
    “My son is dead,” Steven said, turning to face the man, the
representation of Aka Manah. “All for your goddamn prize. Well, here it is,
motherfucker. Take it and leave. We’re done.” He tossed the Agimat onto the
coffee table next to the demon.
    The man rose and lifted the object. “Ah!” he said, examining
it. “It’s been a long time. Hundreds of years. Tell me, who had it?”
    “What the fuck do you care? You’ve got it now, so go.
Remember the deal? Eliza better be home from the hospital and feeling fine
before I wake up in the morning. And for the record, I hate you. I’ll hate you
to my dying day.”
    “Who had it? I want to know.”
    “Some religious fanatic who thought it would resurrect all of
his family after he butchered them.”
    “Where is he now?”
    “Who the fuck knows? Get out!”
    “I want to know. Tell me. Give me his name at least.”
    “Why does it matter? You have it, just leave me alone.”
    Steven looked at the man, holding the Agimat. It looked like
he was examining it intently, but it occurred to Steven that the close
attention he was giving the object was masking something else, trying to cover
his real intention.
    “I want to know who had it. It matters to me.”
    “I don’t know his name. He killed his family, then he killed
himself.”
    “Do you know where he’s buried?”
    Steven stopped. This is what the demon really wants, he thought. Not the Agimat. He wants the man’s body who owned the Agimat.
Fucker.
    “Why?” Steven asked. “Why would you want to know that?”
    “I want to grind up his bones for stealing it from me,” the
man replied unconvincingly.
    “If you want to know, go up there and search