by H. T. Night
“That’s not what draws me to him,” Lena said defiantly.
“I don’t care what it is about Tommy that made you feel something for him. The truth is, I could break down what he did in a matter of seconds and expose him for the fraud he is, but I don’t want to. You’re free, Lena. Go to him.”
She recoiled. “I’m not going to do that.”
“If you’re afraid that there will be a backlash toward you, don’t be. I’ll see to it that you and Tommy do not become targets of aggression from the Mani who follow me. Go, live your life, Lena! With Tommy!”
“Josiah, I’m not going to go out and be with him. I don’t want him. I want you.”
I couldn’t believe that she chose now to fight for me. Maybe I was selfish and needed for her to fight for me in front of everyone else last night. But she didn’t. As a matter of fact, it felt like she went out of her way not to. I wanted to change the subject so I said, “This fight that we’re all in as a Mani people doesn’t even concern you. You should just go and live your insular little life with Tommy, like a fairy tale ending waiting to happen.”
“How dare you say that to me? I may not have been ‘The Chosen,’ but this fight concerns me as much as it concerns you. Don’t forget I was a part of this world, and long before you were.”
I walked back into Lena’s room and said, “Shit is going to go down soon. You don’t need to be a part of it. You better get out of Dodge. Find Tommy. He’ll protect you, as much as he can.”
“Well, I am staying and there is nothing you can do about it.”
That was where she was damn wrong. I had everything to do with it. This was my fight, one that I had been chosen to lead. All it would take is for me to tell her to stay back, but I didn’t.
I looked at her and she seemed adamant that this was something she wanted. “Okay,” I said. “Then you have made your decision.” I once again started to make my way out of her room. “One more thing,” I said. “It doesn’t have to be weird between us. Let’s just do the Ross and Rachel thing and move forward.”
“The Ross and Rachel thing?”
“You know on Friends, how Ross and Rachel broke up and remained friends for the betterment of the group. After a few episodes, you forgot they were ever even together as a couple.”
“But everyone always knew they loved each other.” She had fresh tears in her eyes now. I was not moved to compassion nor mercy. I steeled myself against her feminine assault. The tears. I was disgusted.
“Well, Lena. That’s Hollywood writers for you, always ready with that happily-ever-after ending. Go have one!”
I left her room and slammed the door behind me. Lena had made her bed. She could freaking well lie in it, too.
Chapter Four
So, there it was.
It was time to turn the page, right? It’s what I had to do, but it was damn hard. I had such strong feelings for this woman and I never understood why exactly. She was so vulnerable when we met. I was her knight in shining armor. It seemed like we were being forced together by something bigger than ourselves. I liked being a caretaker, a hero, a lover. But loyalty had to be earned for that privilege of my heart. In the end, I knew she was the love of my life, but that no longer mattered. I needed to refocus and keep my eye on the prize. The goal was to save my people. I needed to keep that a priority.
I wished I still had Goshi in my life. Goshi was a mentor and an amazing person to have connected with. It was odd; through all of this, the only person I had felt ever “got me” was Goshi, not Tommy. I felt a bond with Goshi, the little blue man who kicked my ass and trained me kind of like a Jedi knight, that was from a different world, one where I began to heavily develop my discernment skills—my sense of right and wrong was honed sharper than ever. It was heart-wrenching to think all of it with Goshi was a lie. I didn’t want to believe it. I refused to believe it. At a core level, I think I was even more heartbroken at losing Goshi than I was at losing Lena, truth to tell.
I don’t think I had ever felt lonelier than I did at this moment. I wanted to run, but where would I go? And besides, saviors of a vampire people did not run. I needed to hold firm and stand strong. It was time for me to start figuring out this ridiculous riddle of what my purpose is as the Chosen One. It was time to accomplish what I had been called to do: protect and serve, meditate, mediate and evolve us as a people, for the greater good and well-being of us as a collective species.
There was only one place to go and only one thing to do. If I couldn’t speak to Goshi, I needed to do the next best thing. I needed to speak with Atticai. Even though the mere thought of being in his presence turned my stomach. I knew in my heart of hearts that he would be the one Mani who could give me the answers I sought.
I took a deep breath. I had a problem: my last words to him were pretty harsh. In fact, I pretty much banished him from our society and those who stood with him. Not that he would have ever fought alongside me. I was pretty adamant that he and I would never work together. But, had I known Krull was coming, I might not have spoken so hastily or thrown around my weight like some entitled... king.
Shame flooded me at the way I had used my position to oust Atticai. Even the Chosen One could fall from grace. And I realized that I had, for making Atticai into an outlaw, when I probably could have negotiated some sort of truce if I hadn’t been such a hothead about Lena. For the good of the Mani people, I needed to eat some humble pie with Atticai and see if there was any chance he’d speak with me.
I had no idea where to find him though. He had left with a fifth of my crew, including Rubidoux, one of my top guys, after Tommy. I cringed at the loss of Tommy. That was going to hurt more than anyone would ever know.
I was pretty sure I knew where to find that guy on any given night. Rubidoux was a regular at Flatlands, so, I guess that was the best place to start.
Before I went out and did something as outrageous as trying to look for Atticai for advice, I thought I should at least speak with people in my own crew, some of whom might have an idea what I was supposed to do as the Chosen One, things that maybe Goshi had not told me because inside of Goshi had been Atticai, who had had his own personal agenda.
Wyatt and Hector had been around a while. I wasn’t sure for how many years Cyrus had walked the earth, but I figured, for now, it was time to have a closed-door meeting with the three of them, my generals by default. I needed some generals in my army. While I began to consider Yari as my primary advisor, I needed other close confidants, Mani who would fight alongside me. Wyatt, Hector, and Cyrus had proven to me that the most important thing in battle, next to courage, was loyalty. They had proven their loyalty to me and it was priceless. As Tommy and Lena had both proven, loyalty was never guaranteed. It had to be earned in both love and war. I was learning these things, the hard way. I had screwed up love which messed me up, but only personally. If I screwed up the war, it would take down all Mani.
Time to round up my team. I knocked on Wyatt’s door and asked him to gather Hector and Cyrus together and meet me in the library downstairs.
The home’s library was filled with books, of course, but this one had a conference table right smack in the middle of the room that looked like something out of The Apprentice TV show.
Cyrus, Hector, and Wyatt came into the library and shut the door behind them. They stood around expectantly.
“Have a seat, guys,” I said.
The three Mani men all sat down around me at the conference table. I looked the three of them over, and they could seriously pass as brothers. Cyrus was built a lot like Tommy. He was about six feet tall and built like a pit bull, but Hector and Wyatt were about two inches taller and skinnier. Hector had a Middle Eastern look to him with a hint of Spanish. He had full eyebrows with a distinct look that had royal overtones. I would have thought that maybe he was Greek if I didn’t already know he was from some obscure Third World country.
Wyatt looked like a typical good old boy from the Midwest. He had a Southern pres
ence to him, and was unassuming. I know that he and Hector had amazing fighting skills that I had experienced firsthand, the fact being that they were two of the three reasons I had been turned into a vampire.
I figured Cyrus was probably a great fighter even though I had never seen him in action. He was previously one of Krull’s boys, and all of Krull’s people are trained fighters. I needed Cyrus very much, to help with strategies to fight Krull. He would know their weaknesses.
What all three of these guys had in common was, at one time or another, they looked at me as the enemy. That was a very good thing because that showed how loyal they actually were, that we now faced each other across the conference table as common allies in the fights from other forces. Last night, all three of them could easily have left with Atticai, but they chose to stand by me. That said a lot and that proved more to me than they could ever know: that they stood firm in their conviction.
Wyatt cleared his throat, waiting to find out what this was about.
But, first, I needed to hear it from them. I needed to know their stories. I assumed they knew mine, but I knew nothing about any of them. I heard bits and pieces, but nothing to form a strong opinion on character, experience, and intelligence. Their actions had spoken louder than words, but it was time to get to know them as men, not fighters.
“Wyatt,” I said, “let’s start with you. Why are you here?”
Wyatt looked at me and seemed a bit uncomfortable. I knew I needed to reword the statement. These guys needed to know I was here to learn about them, not question them.
“Let me rephrase that, Wyatt. I know you have walked the earth since the mid-1800s. Can you give me the Reader’s Digest version on how and why you’re sitting here today? I would feel if I understand you guys better. It would help me to lead better.”
Wyatt smiled. “No problem, Josiah. You’re right about me being alive since Abraham Lincoln’s days. My mom named me after Wyatt Earp. I never knew my dad, and in my mind, I chose Wyatt Earp as a father figure. I never met the man, but through the years, I had come to terms with the fact that I might never know exactly who my father was, but I have felt solace that it could have been Wyatt Earp.”
“Did you know for sure?” I asked.
“My mom was vague about anything to do with my real father. When I was growing up, I didn’t care. I was glad she named me after the baddest lawman of all time. It gave me great comfort knowing that on some weird level, we were connected, even if it was only by name.”
“How did that affect you growing up?” I asked.
“It affected me greatly. I was a pretty big gambler in the 1890s. Gambling was my vice and eventually, my downfall.”
“How?” I asked.
“It was the night of December 21st, 1891, when I first crossed paths with a Mani.”
“What happened?” This was exactly what I wanted to know. I was all ears.
“I was gambling in a small town in North Dakota. We were having an all-night, blaze-out session. A bald fellow and I had equally cleaned up the table. We were both sitting on at least five large. That would be about $100,000 today, if not more. We were playing Texas Hold’em and I was dealt ‘Big Slick.’”
“Big Slick?”
“Ace-king. It’s a great starting hand, but if you miss the flop, the hand can get you in trouble. I raised it about $500 pre-flop. Meaning, I bet before we saw any of the community cards.”
“Community cards?’ I asked.
“Not a big poker player, I take it?”
“No, not really. My gamble, or vice as you put it, is with life.”
“Texas Hold-em goes like this. You’re dealt two pocket cards at the beginning of the hand. You can bet or fold. Then the players left in the hand are given community cards that anyone can play with the two cards in their hand. There are bets and folds and then a fourth card comes out. That is called the turn. Again, there are bets and folds. The last card is the river.”
“Bets and folds?” I asked.
“Yep,” Wyatt said.
“Then what?”
“Whoever is still left in the hand turns over their cards.”
“Got it. Go back to your story.” I leaned back in my chair and listened to Wyatt tell his little poker tale.
“I learned that the bald man’s name was Cecil Combs. He and I had almost all the money at the table in front of us, and it was about to all go into the pot. When you gamble as much as I had, there are moments where you just knew it’s all going in. So, Cecil calls my bet and we see a flop. The dealer lays down three cards on the table. It was an ace, a king and a seven of spades. It was a gorgeous flop for my hand. I had aces over kings. That’s two pair and that’s as pretty as it comes. I decided to bet a grand, thinking he’d fold, but he didn’t. He smooth-called.”
“Smooth-called?” I asked.
“That means he just called my bet without raising,” Wyatt answered.
I nodded my head.
“Next card was the turn and it was the two of clubs, a weak card that didn’t help either one of us. So, I decide to check, and try to get a read on this guy. Cecil pauses and spends about five minutes staring at the four cards on the table. Then he did something that surprised the hell out of me, he pushed all his chips into the middle and said, ‘All in.’”
“I feel like I’m watching Poker After Dark with all these details,” I joked. I nodded for him to continue.
Wyatt was into the story and I had no idea how much this guy loved and knew the game of poker. He continued, “There were four hands that could beat me at that point: pocket aces, pocket kings, pocket sevens and even pocket twos. There were no signs of a straight or flush draw out there. I knew the odds of him having pocket twos was out the window. There is no way he calls my flop bet. So, I’m thinking sevens are the likely culprit. I sit there and go in the tank.”
“Go in the tank?” I asked.
“That means I took a long time to call. I figure even if he has me beat with sevens I had a couple of outs. So, I decide to call and throw all my chips in the pot, too. He turned over his hand and sure enough, he had pocket sevens. He had trip sevens or a ‘three of a kind.’ We still had one more card to go, the river. I needed an ace or a king, and that would have given me a higher full house.”
“The ace hit?” I asked.
“Sure did. The ace of spades landed right on the river. It flew out in slow motion or at least that’s how I remember it. The ace of spades is the most beautiful card in the deck. I scooped up the pot, and said goodnight. I walked out of there with ten large.”
“Wow, that’s a great poker story,” I laughed. “But what does that have to do with anything?”
Wyatt looked at me and said, “What do you think happened, Josiah?”
“The guy you beat was a Mani,” I answered.
“Not only was he a Mani, but he had a couple of his buddies holed up in a room down the street. I had no idea what was in store for me. I jumped on my horse and made my way out of town. It was four in the morning. I was twenty-four years old, so, I could ride all night if I had to.”
“Didn’t happen, I take it?” I asked.
“Nope, Cecil had other plans for me. He and his two buddies flew over me in their black raven forms and attacked me from behind. At first, I had no clue what was happening as you could well imagine. This was way before Hitchcock’s The Birds. So, I wasn’t exactly intimidated by three black ravens.”
“Yeah, just scavenger birds. Harmless.”
“Right. So, I had my money in a satchel, and one of the ravens flew down and bit me on the right cheek. It knocked me off my horse. I lay on the ground and watched as the three birds in front of me transitioned into grown Mani men, one of them being Cecil Combs. I had a few whiskey shots before I even jumped on my horse, to keep me warm as I rode through the night, so I was about to write off this vision before me as fatigue and intoxication. But, these three men quickly launched me into some serious reality. They attacked me over and over again and I t
ried my best to fight them off. I’m not sure why they let me live; they did, but not before I was bitten by all three of them. They took the ten grand out of my satchel and left me without a clue as to what had just happened to me.”
“Oh no!” I said, sympathetic to the attack, since I had been attacked myself.
Wyatt continued, “Within a few hours, I quickly realized the sun and me were no longer friends. I nearly died out there in the desert and was fortunate enough to find a dark barn in the next town.”
“Wow,” I said. “And you obviously made it through that.”
“It took a while, but eventually, I began to understand what I was: I was a freaking vampire. What happened to me was a Greek tragedy and a horror film rolled up in one.”
“Not to mention a good old-fashioned Clint Eastwood movie. How did you survive it?” I asked.
“Back in those days, it was a lot easier to figure out who were Mani. There were a lot fewer weirdos then there are today. You would see the signs that someone was dealing with vampire problems a mile away. There was a lot more reaching out back then. Where I was from, all Mani stuck together; it wasn’t like the East Coast, where they had already formed street gangs.”
“Okay, now that I know how it began for you, Wyatt,” I said, “how did you get here? How did you land in the Inland Empire? That was almost 150 years ago.”
“The truth is, Josiah, in the beginning, I lived a pretty reckless life. I was all about money and women. The Great Depression changed me though; I saw some pretty awful things. The vampire bounty industry was pretty brutal.”
“The vampire bounty industry?” I asked. “I have never heard of that.”
“Since the beginning of the Mani race, humans have known about us. It’s a catch 22 for them. If they let it be known to us that they know who we are, they are risking their lives. By our own creed, we are able to kill them without remorse. So, about the turn of the century, a vampire bounty industry was formed. It made the Ku Klux Klan look mild. The Tandra who were in the know would go on Mani-killing sprees that would last for weeks. Sometimes they even had Mani to turn on each other.” Wyatt paused. “I did some things I’m not proud of. In those days, there wasn’t much of a choice. By the time World War II arrived, I was done.”