Page 82 of The Lost Zone (Dark Water #3)

Once again, he was escorted out of the suite.

Two trips out in a week? He forced down the sense of excited anticipation.

He couldn’t afford to mess up, not even once.

This time, however, they didn’t go far. He was simply taken up in the lift to Tyler’s own personal suite.

He wondered why he’d been given the leather jacket if he wasn’t going out.

Maybe Tyler intended to take him somewhere later, or maybe he had a guest who liked this particular look.

Or could this be a look that Tyler himself found arousing?

Alex braced himself. The time would come when Tyler would expect him to put out, and he had to find a way of being as accommodating to his houder as he’d been to all his guests.

The suite was much as he remembered it – all black and white, with stark lines and splashes of red, just the way Tyler liked it. His houder was waiting for him, looking curiously revved up.

At first, they simply sat on Tyler’s sofa sipping wine, making small talk. It would have been all too easy to relax, but Alex couldn’t afford to do that.

Tyler was restless and energetic. He kept getting up and moving around the room, talking all the time about nothing in particular – business, the new floating city symposium he was attending soon, and a painting he’d acquired by a new young artist he admired and wanted Alex’s opinion on.

“I like it,” Alex said, studying the painting blankly.

“Just like? You don’t love it?” Tyler demanded, gazing at him keenly.

“No,” Alex replied honestly. He’d worked hard on his persona. Tyler would see through pointless lies, so it was best to keep them to a minimum. “The artist is talented, and the style unsophisticated, but not enough to be charming or na?ve. That makes it a good buy for you.”

“How so? You just said you don’t rate the painting,” Tyler prodded in his usual relentless style.

“Yes, but the artist is talented and can improve. In time, her early works might become very valuable.”

“Ah.” Tyler seemed satisfied. He rocked back on his heels, looking pleased with himself. “I know you have a good eye for this kind of thing. That’s why I’d like your opinion on something else. It’s a work I commissioned. A new kind of art form that I think you’ll appreciate. Follow me.”

He led Alex to a room he’d never been in before. “This is my private dining room,” Tyler explained, pausing outside. “I thought you’d like to gaze on my new artwork while you’re eating.”

Alex was about to murmur something about how kind that was when Tyler suddenly opened the door, and he lost the ability to speak.

There, standing in front of him, was his mother.

She was wearing a pair of faded blue jeans and a white Aran sweater, her hair swept up in a style that was both elegant and casual.

She had always done that so well, dressing down in a way that showed off her fantastic figure and gave her an earthy sexiness.

Tyler pushed him into the room, and his mother looked up and saw him, breaking into a wide smile.

Her lips were painted with her favourite ruby lipstick, and he caught a whiff of her perfume.

It was the scent that almost felled him.

He remembered her scarf and how he used to keep it under his pillow so he could smell it and be transported back into her presence.

Now, she was here. She was still smiling as she hurried towards him, her arms outstretched in greeting…

and then stopped. He blinked, confused, as suddenly she was all the way across the room again.

The hologram was so perfect that he’d thought it was actually her.

It wasn’t. It couldn’t be, because he’d seen her dead body, but he’d never seen a hologram like this.

Holograms were still a little grainy, a little clunky.

They couldn’t make you believe they were real – at least, not any he’d ever seen.

His belly tightened into a knot. This was cruel, even by Tyler’s standards.

Turning, he wanted to lash out, to vent the fury caused by this sneaky attack, but time slowed down.

He could see Tyler’s tongue wetting his lips in anticipation of having exposed him for a fraud, and the light of excitement in his eyes at the hope of having hurt him, deeply and irrevocably.

Determined not to give the man the pleasure, he wrapped his arms around Tyler and held him tight. “Thank you,” he breathed into Tyler’s ear. “Thank you so much. I can’t tell you how much I’ve longed to see her again. But how was it done? I’ve never seen anything look so real.”

The embrace gave him the time he needed to compose himself, and when he drew back, his mask was in place again. He examined the endlessly repeating hologram of his mother as she looked up, seemed to gaze straight at him, and then broke into a smile, stepping towards him, her arms outstretched.

New details assaulted him. Her golden hair was tucked behind one ear but fell forward over the other; one of her black boots was scuffed and her nails were painted a deep, vivid pink.

He went right up to her, steeling himself to allow the hologram to pass through him, and then sought out the source.

He found the light box on the wall. Such a small thing to contain such an intricate image.

“I was only at Belvedere for nine months,” he murmured. “I had no idea holotech had advanced so much in that time.”

“It hasn’t, at least not in the mainstream.

I had this made by an artist who specialises in it.

He’s convinced holopics like this, that capture a moment in time, are going to be the next big thing.

You see…” Tyler put a hand on Alex’s shoulder, and it took all of his strength not to flinch.

“I sent him a whole bunch of photos and videos and gave him carte blanche. I didn’t expect anything this lifelike, I must say.

Of course, he wants to impress me. He wants me to fund his business – he thinks he can make a fortune.

I told him he should advertise in funeral homes first.” Tyler gave a twisted smile.

“Who wouldn’t want their loved one back when they look as real as this? ”

“Absolutely,” Alex breathed. His mother looked up and saw him, and then smiled. “It’s as if she’s here.”

“Yeah.” Tyler was looking at him searchingly.

“The perfume, though…?” He raised an eyebrow. “Not part of the hologram, surely?”

“No. The tech has its limits. I sprayed that around the room to really capture her. She always wore that brand.”

“Yes. Winter Bloom by LaBelle,” he said, inhaling deeply. “Sophisticated, warm, and just a little bit spicy.”

Tyler was glaring at him now, angry. He’d wanted this to derail him, to shock him into revealing that he wasn’t really a changed man – but instead, he was acting as if he’d been given a treat.

He knew he had to pull something big out of the bag now.

He looked Tyler in the eye and spoke to him in a shaking voice.

“I’ve thought about it so many times,” he said.

“Thought about what?” Tyler snapped.

“You – finding out about her death from the screen. I can’t imagine what that was like for you.

It’s so unfair that you had to find out that way.

Bad enough to lose her, but to have your place in her life unknown, unacknowledged?

To be unable to attend her funeral, or talk about her to her loved ones?

I’m so sorry that happened to you. It was wrong.

I thought about it a lot during my time at Belvedere, and it always upset me.

You didn’t deserve that. She loved you. You loved her. ”

He felt his eyes fill with tears as he spoke, which surprised him.

Was it empathy for his tormentor, or was he just play-acting?

Yet as he said it, he felt it. It must have been awful for Tyler.

Maybe he hadn’t been such a terrible person back then.

Maybe Isobel’s death had warped him, turning him into this monster.

If so, he could see why. It had been terrible for Tyler, and he deserved for that to be recognised.

“I killed her,” Alex said, and it was a relief to say it out loud, to mean it, and to offer it to the person who needed to hear it most. “I didn’t mean to, but that doesn’t matter. I’m responsible for her death, and I’m so very sorry.”

It was impossible for Tyler to doubt his sincerity, because every word was true.

Tyler stared at him, and for a brief moment, Alex wondered if his confession would lance the boil of Tyler’s anger and need for revenge.

But no. Tyler was a man who clung on to his feelings, always nursing and burnishing them.

He never let anything go. He did, however, look startled by Alex’s words. Finally, he nodded.

“I appreciate this new honesty,” he said in a low, sincere tone. Then, in a completely different voice: “Shall we eat?” He waved his hand at the place setting facing the hologram.

Alex took his seat and only then realised that three places were laid.

“Oh, that’s right – I invited a guest.” Tyler gave a wolfish smirk. “Someone for you to entertain.” Finally, the reason why he was wearing the black leather jacket.

Tyler rang a bell, and a few moments later his guest entered.

He was one of those middle-aged men who tried to look young and trendy long after it was appropriate.

That was the only explanation for the tight jeans hugging his portly frame, the brown leather waistcoat layered over a white tee-shirt, and the obvious wig tied into an unbecoming ponytail that hung down his back.

Yet he had warm brown eyes and a bright, smiling face that made him instantly likeable.

“This is the genius behind my new art installation,” Tyler announced, beaming. “The creative force responsible for this beautiful hologram. Alexander – say hello to Elliot Dacre.”