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The Immortal Warriors Boxed Set: Books 1-11

Page 122

by H. T. Night


  “Why is it so hard to have people unite?”

  Atticai was quiet now. He had made a 180-degree turn and was opening up in a way I didn’t even realize he was capable of doing. “I’ve said enough, Josiah.”

  “Please, don’t stop now. Why, Atticai?”

  For whatever reason, Atticai was having a hard time revealing this last bit of information. I could tell this part exhausted him. This was the one thing that bothered him the most about his people. Finally, he said, “Because Mani don’t see the benefit of stepping outside themselves. And if they do, they are only led by money, sex, or power. That’s why Krull has a legion of vampires willing to die for his cause. Vampires and violence go hand in hand.”

  “So, which is it?” I asked. “Do I fight Krull or do I try to work with him?”

  “I don’t know. I think you might need to seek out the Deity on this one.”

  “The Deity? What or who is that?” I asked. This was the very first time I had ever heard this name.

  “You are green, aren’t you, Josiah? The Deity is a young woman who has been given amazing insight from the Triat. She’s like our pope.”

  “She’s young?” I asked.

  “Not in years, but in Mani form. She was turned when she was thirteen years old. She has seen it all.”

  “Really?”

  “Yeah. Apparently, she saw Jesus carry the cross up Calgary and fasted alongside Gandhi. She has led an amazing life.”

  “And you think she could help me?”

  “I know she can.” Atticai stood up and walked along the porch rail, looking out at the stars. For the first time ever, he seemed like a regular person with dreams and aspirations. He was being human. Not mortal, but for the first time, he seemed to display a level of insight that was inspiring. It was as if he was locked inside his own hate and somehow, he snapped out of it.

  “Atticai,” I said. “It’s not too late for you. You can stand right next to me in this cause. I’d be honored if you would.”

  Atticai just shook his head and calmly said, “I’ll pass.” This would be a hard sell at this juncture and I decided not to pursue this angle any longer. Atticai was the kind of person who needed to come to a cause like this on his own terms. Maybe someday he’d come around, but for now, I needed to find this Deity.

  “Where is the Deity?” I asked.

  “Tijuana,” Atticai smiled.

  “Huh? Donkey-shows-Tijuana?” I asked, completely not expecting that to be the answer.

  “There’s a lot more to that city than donkey shows. You know that city is where the Caesar salad was invented.”

  “Good to know if I decide to go on a diet. Where in Tijuana is she?”

  “I don’t know exactly. I have just heard she’s been there for years. My advice is to go there and if the Triat wants you two to connect, she will find you.”

  “I hope you’re right. I don’t want to be hanging out in Tijuana for months on end.”

  “You know everything is legal down there. There’s more to do than just go watch donkey shows. Camp out and make a trip of it. Just don’t drink the water!”

  I nodded my head and Atticai stood up and went inside the house. He didn’t say goodbye, but I assumed we were done. He was cordial once he was past his bitterness. I did have to admit, I was pretty impressed with what he had to say.

  Chapter Seven

  So, here I was. I needed to go to Tijuana, of all places. I had only been to the city once. It was on my 18th birthday. Tommy took me down there and we partook in all the indulgences the country had to offer: alcohol, girls and even a little icky wicky.

  Being that it was my only experience in that country, I didn’t have much to go on. I was pretty inebriated at the time and have little memory of anything that happened south of the border. To think, I’d be roaming the streets of a foreign country looking for a thirteen-year-old girl, who was in reality over 2,000 years old—it was disconcerting.

  I assume the Deity spoke many languages by this point. But I was going to need a guide to help me. The only person I knew that was fluent in Spanish was Wyatt. He had spent a lot of time in Mexico, and liked to show off every now and then and speak Spanish to people who spoke it fluently. So, he was definitely the guy to take.

  I approached him the following day at breakfast. “Hey, Wyatt,” I said. “Would you like to take a trip with me?”

  “What kind of trip?” He asked as he sipped his blood cocktail that Yari had blended up for him. Yari was creative by mixing blood with tomato juice and other fine beverages to give the taste more of a kick.

  “It’ll be a business one. I need to speak to the Deity,” I said.

  “The Deity? She is still around?”

  “You knew about her?”

  “Everyone knows about her. No one knows where she is.”

  “Atticai did. He’s says she’s in Mexico.”

  “Mexico? I better pack my poncho. When do you want to leave?”

  “Tonight.”

  “No problem.” Wyatt went back to sipping his drink and I headed back upstairs and decided to relax until the evening.

  Wyatt and I didn’t pack anything. We figured if it took a while to find her, we would just buy whatever we needed cheap in Mexico.

  We transitioned into our bird state and headed south. From where we lived, the only way to Mexico was a flight over San Diego. San Diego is a beautiful city during the day; not so pretty at night.

  We made our way into Mexico and Tijuana was the first city at the border. It was good that we didn’t have to go deep into the country. As a matter of fact, we hit our destination so quickly it felt like we were still in U.S., except for the smell. Wow, the sewer system stunk down here. Holy crap, it smelled awful.

  I had learned online that the best hotel in the city was a place called Ticuan. We flew over the city until I spotted the hotel from the sky. We headed down and landed down the street in an empty area so we could transition without anyone seeing us. One thing was for sure, Mexico wasn’t short on taxis and pharmacies. Everywhere I looked, I saw a taxi in the street and a pharmacy on the corner.

  We went inside the hotel and I was pretty impressed. The hotel didn’t look like much from the outside, but the inside was extremely high class. It made me forget that I was in Tijuana.

  We decided to share a room with two beds. It would be easier to get up and go if we were in the same room. After we were situated in the room, we decided to head on out because we wanted to get this over with.

  Wyatt and I headed down to the parking structure. There were about five taxis parked outside the hotel.

  “Taxi?” one of the cab drivers asked.

  “Sí,” Wyatt said, winking at me like he was a native countryman.

  “Hell, I could have figured that one out,” I laughed.

  “Trust me, when we’re in the heart of this city, you’ll be glad I can interpret what’s being said immediately.”

  The cab driver opened the back door and Wyatt and I jumped into the back seat.

  “Why are we taking a cab?” I asked.

  “I’m a little uncomfortable flying around the city. God knows what goes on down here. All I need is a bullet to the wing.”

  I guess he was right; if I transitioned to the eagle, it might cause pandemonium. “Where should we go first?” I asked.

  “We need to go to the place where we can find out anything for the right price.”

  “Where’s that?”

  “The red light district.”

  “Where the drug dealers and hookers dwell?” I asked.

  “If you want to know anything, the hustlers down there will find out for twenty bucks. Adelitas!” Wyatt said to the cab driver.

  “Bien.” The driver took off and there we were, two vampires in a cab in Tijuana about to hit the red light district.

  After about ten minutes of some of the worst driving I had ever experienced, the cab driver delivered us to a bar called Adelitas.

  “¿Cuánto cues
ta?” Wyatt asked, inquiring about the cab fare.

  “Cinco,” he said.

  “Five bucks?” I asked.

  Wyatt looked at me and said, “Remember, we are in Mexico; everything is cheaper.”

  There were a lot of businesses and bars along the street. We stepped out on the street and the night was alive. There was energy unlike anything you would ever see in the Inland Empire. The streets were thumping and packed with tourists and hustlers everywhere.

  “So, what now?” I asked. “Do we go into a bar and try to find out information?”

  “We can go to a bar if you’re ready to be ambushed by about twenty girls begging for some time alone with you,” Wyatt laughed.

  “Seriously?” I asked. In a way, it didn’t seem like that bad of a concept.

  “You’ve been here before; you know how it is.”

  “It was a couple of years back and I was drunk on my ass. I have little memory of anything other than a porcelain toilet at the end of the night.”

  “The city does that to you, too. Damn, it’s a great town,” Wyatt laughed.

  “So, what now?” I asked.

  “The guys that have the answers will come up to us. They’ll speak perfect English to let us know how American they are. Let’s just start walking and they will make their way to us.”

  Sure enough, all we had to do was walk about twenty feet down the street and a man about six feet tall and skinny approached us.

  “Hey man,” he said without an accent.

  “What’s up?” I said.

  “What do you guys want? Girls, blow, condoms, Viagra, what?”

  Wow, he didn’t mess around. He apparently had a pharmacy on his person.

  “We need information,” Wyatt said.

  “Okay, what kind of information are you looking for?”

  Wyatt and the man spoke to each other in Spanish, but the man responded in English. I think he did it for my sake.

  “I can get in a lot of trouble taking you there,” he said.

  “Would $500 make it easier for you?” Wyatt asked.

  “For $500, I’ll have sex with both of you before we go,” the man joked.

  I wasn’t one for that kind of humor. At least, I hoped he was kidding. He must have been because he didn’t pursue it.

  “Meet me here at nine in the morning. Believe it or not, it’s more discreet doing stuff during the day around here. There’s a lot less police.”

  “We can’t exactly do that,” Wyatt said, looking at the man.

  The man looked us both over and grinned. “I guess you can’t.” He was street smart enough to know we were vampires. “Meet me here in twenty-four hours and I’ll have an answer for you.”

  “Are you certain that you can arrange a meeting or are you just wasting our time?” I asked. He obviously knew we were Mani and now it was time to throw some weight around to get what we wanted.

  The man paused and then looked me in the eye and said, “I guarantee it.”

  “All right, we’ll see you tomorrow. Don’t fuck with us. You got that?” I said, as stern as I could, without coming across as paranoid.

  “When people need things in this city, I’m who they come to,” he said, in a slick, con-man type of way.

  “You better be.” There was something about this guy I didn’t trust.

  “Hey, can you guys front me some of the money?” the man asked.

  There it was.

  Wyatt looked at him and said, “You’ll get the $500 when we’re sitting down with her. Nothing more and nothing sooner. Taxi,” Wyatt yelled.

  No faster than he said it, a taxi whipped around and was in front of us. “That’s it?” I said to Wyatt, climbing into the taxi.

  “That’s it. If the guy is legit, we should have a meet and greet tomorrow.”

  “What did you say to him in Spanish?”

  “I asked him where the witches were.”

  “Witches?”

  “Yes, witches. They believe down here that everything supernatural is either ghosts or witches. He mentioned there is a great witch that sees the future and she is well protected.”

  “You think the great witch is the Deity?” I asked.

  “I have a hunch.”

  “Why?”

  “He mentioned she’s spoken of two men in black that will seek her out. He obviously is close enough to her that he recalled her saying this.”

  We were wearing black, but then again, so were half the people walking around the street we were on. “So, we sit back and wait?”

  “Unless you want to party with the locals?” Wyatt grinned.

  “Not quite.”

  “Then let’s head back. We need to sunlight-proof the room anyway.” Wyatt was right. We probably should have done that before we left. There was only one window, so it should be easy to block any sun from making its way in.

  It was three in the morning when we arrived back. I stepped out of the cab and was stopped dead in my tracks. I saw the most beautiful Latina woman I had ever seen being escorted, gripped by the arm, by a short Mexican gentleman.

  She made eye contact with me and I gave her an honest, warm smile. Then she gave me an odd, concerned look in return. It was a desperate look, I knew that look. She was in some kind of trouble. I decided to do something I wasn’t accustomed to doing because it was invasive, but I needed to know more about this woman. I focused my thoughts and I tried to read her mind.

  I hadn’t done this a lot, so it took some concentration. I locked into her mind and I kept hearing her repeat the same phrase. ‘Ayuda mi, por favor.’ She said it over and over again. It was as if she knew I was reading her mind. The problem was I had no idea what ‘Ayuda mi, por favor,’ meant.

  I knew ‘por favor’ meant ‘please’ but I didn’t know what ‘Ayuda’ meant. Her eyes were piercing through me. I decided to follow the couple into the elevator with Wyatt right behind me. He wasn’t aware of what I was doing and it was probably a good thing. The man who had a hold of the woman’s arm never once looked up at us in the elevator. He held her arm tightly as if she were a child. This woman was anything but a child. She was at least 5’9” in height and had a body built like a thoroughbred. Her hair was dyed red and her face was one of the prettiest I had ever seen.

  I had seen far too much in a short amount of time to not know this situation wasn’t right. Every once in a while, I’m drawn into something that feels bigger than myself—this was one of those times. I didn’t know if it had anything to do with my overwhelming attraction for this young woman, but, I needed to know more. Our room was on the fifth floor and they were going to the sixth floor.

  The second we walked out of the elevator and it closed, I turned to Wyatt, and asked, “What does ayuda mean?”

  “It means help,” Wyatt answered.

  “She was saying, ‘help me, please!’ I said.

  “Who was?”

  “The girl in the elevator.”

  “You read her mind?” Wyatt asked, perplexed.

  “Yes.”

  “Why would you do that?”

  “Didn’t you see how she looked at us?”

  “Yeah, she’s a hooker. They all look at you like that,” Wyatt said, laughing.

  “She might be a hooker, but she’s in trouble.”

  “Most prostitutes have trouble on a twenty-four-hour basis.”

  “I’m telling you, it was more than that. She needs our help.”

  “I’m pretty sure every woman in this city needs our help. But we can’t go around saving everyone. We need to leave this place as soon as we can and going on Boy Scout missions isn’t going to help.”

  “Maybe so, but I can’t turn my back on her now,” I said.

  “Are you thinking with the right brain, Josiah?” Wyatt asked, insinuating I just wanted to get laid.

  “She was crying out for help in the elevator, that’s all I know. Was she hot? Yeah. But that’s not why I want to help her.”

  Wyatt stared at me in disbelie
f. He was so jaded by life that something like this meant nothing to him. I couldn’t be that way. I wasn’t wired like that. I knew I needed to help her. “Wyatt, I’m going to do something about it. You don’t have to help, but I’m going figure out what’s going on.”

  “What are you going to do? Bust down doors in Tijuana? You want to put us on blast while we’re down here? We need to find the Deity and get the hell out of here.”

  “Look, like I said, you don’t have to help me. I’m not even asking you to. I just know I have to do something. We’re dealing with Tandra, so I don’t anticipate much of a problem. Go get some sleep.”

  Wyatt looked at me with a look that was a cross between reluctance and exhaustion.

  “I know you’re tired, Wyatt. Go get some sleep. If I need your help, I’ll let you know.”

  “Josiah, the boy scout.” Wyatt smiled and went inside the room. “Look, Jo. I’ll help you if you want me to.”

  “Don’t need it. I’ll take care of this on my own. I have that feeling. And when I have that feeling, I need to honor it. For all I know, it’s the Triat speaking to me.”

  “I think it’s the blood in your penis speaking to you.”

  “I thought we no longer have blood,” I said.

  “Something gets us hard,” Wyatt smirked.

  Chapter Eight

  I went down the elevator of the hotel and made my way outside.

  I decided to transition into my eagle form and fly up to the sixth floor. I made my way around the hotel, peeking through windows. I knew it was a Peeping Tom kind of thing to do, but at this point, it was my only option.

  There were only a couple of lights on in the rooms. At the east end of the building, there was a light on and I could see two images. I could hear a man yelling at a woman and I tried to listen at the outside of the window.

  They were both speaking Spanglish. Spanglish is when someone mixes Spanish and English together. It is common in Southern California. It actually helps someone like me have an understanding of what is being talked about. And for some reason, both these people knew enough English to speak Spanglish pretty darn well and thank God they were.

  I slowly flew up to the window, trying not to be heard. About every fourth word they slipped in an English word and I could gather what was going on. Then I heard the man walk over to the window and open the curtain. I shot up the side of the building, so he couldn’t see me. I found a spot where I could see him, but he couldn’t see me. It was the man that was with the redheaded woman in the elevator. This was definitely their room and she was the one he was yelling at. As I listened, I could tell he was taking her somewhere she didn’t want to go. She seemed upset at the idea of going.

 

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