by H. T. Night
Anyway, as we walked up, there was no doubt who was the alpha male in this group. A swath opened for him in the pressing crowd of black-clad bizarros, and he walked down the middle of it like a freaking king at his coronation. Everyone seemed to turn and watch him. I stopped at the edge of the fire with Yari and watched as Atticai took off his trench coat and then his T-shirt. He was pretty ripped. He was damn pale, granted, but the dude had some serious game in the abs department. His stomach looked as if it was carved out of alabaster by Michelangelo himself. No wonder Lena liked this guy. Even though he was a colossal freak, he was a man among pale, skinny boys in this adoring crowd. As he turned his back to me, I saw that he had a pretty strange tattoo covering the upper half of his back. It was, in fact, writing. Big, black Old English font letters spelled out the acronym, “C.O.N.”
Okay, whatever.
One of the guys at the party walked up to Atticai and handed him a wooden jug that looked like something out of 1800s. Atticai grabbed the jug and immediately jumped on the hood of one of the trucks and took a long drink from whatever was in the container.
He shuddered briefly then turned and looked straight at me. “Hey, Josiah! Want a swig?”
“What is it?” I asked from the other side of the fire.
“A little of everything. Tastes like shit, but that’s not the point.”
I was about to ask what the point was, but I decided I didn’t want to know. It was probably laced with God-knows-what. Whatever it was, I know I didn’t want it in my body. Not with my big fight coming up.
“I’ll pass,” I said. “I’m in training.”
“Training?” Atticai laughed. “Training for what?”
“For a fight I’m having next month. I’m a professional fighter.”
“Seriously?”
“Yep.”
“No wonder you kicked so much ass tonight. I didn’t realize I was in the presence of Muhammad Ali.”
“I’m not a boxer. I’m a mixed martial arts fighter.”
“You mean that crazy Royce Gracie crap?”
“It’s evolved since him, but, yeah. That is exactly the sport I’m in.”
Everyone at the party was now looking at me. They seemed impressed that Atticai was taking a liking to me. As if we were old friends or something. I still wasn’t sure what I thought about all this.
I was just about to relax a tad when someone shoved me hard in the back, my bat-beaten back. Again with the pain of great magnitude. I took a couple steps toward the fire and turned around and immediately dropped into a fighter position. Standing there was a bleached-blonde idiot about my size, staring at me.
“You think you’re a badass?” the guy asked.
You have got to be kidding me. Was I seriously about to have another scuffle?
This dude looked ridiculous. This guy wore a Danzig shirt and had several piercings in his face. One punch to his face would tear him to shreds, not to mention ruin about five hundred dollars’ worth of jewelry.
“No,” I said. “I’m just hanging around like everyone else.”
The bleached-blonde guy got up in my face. “I don’t like you.”
“Back the hell off, Rubidoux!” Atticai shouted.
“Why? If this guy is so tough, then let’s have him prove it.”
“Rubidoux, you’re tanked. Trust me, you don’t want anything to do with this guy,” Atticai insisted.
But Rubidoux didn’t listen. He took a swing at me, and I instinctively ducked. When you fight, you always go by instinct. You also have to account for your surroundings, and especially friends who might have your back. Hopefully, have your back. I had Lena, a friend. But a mere girl. As far as these other hinky guys, who knew if they would be friend or foe in a fight?
In this case, I knew that I couldn’t strike this guy or I might have dozens of guys on me. Punching out friends always has a way of getting other friends riled up. But friends will let a fight play out if it goes to the ground. Of course, what happens after that is anyone’s guess. I had many fights under my belt, street and pro, to know that until someone is down and doesn’t come up again, and the friends walk away in closure, the fight isn’t over.
Time to meet the challenger. I knelt down and shot my shoulders straight into his legs. In one smooth motion, I picked him up and threw him hard to his shoulders, pinning him down on his back, while holding down both his arms.
A perfect take-down.
I was particularly careful not to touch his face. Had we been alone, he would already have been knocked out.
“I don’t know you!” I said to Rubidoux. “I have no problem with you! You need to calm down!”
“All right, man, get the fuck off me.”
“Are you going to be cool?” I insisted.
Then, without warning, Rubidoux turned his head and puked all over the rocks. I jumped back as the dumbass wiped his mouth with the back of his hand.
As I stood back, Atticai did a whooping warrior-scream at the top of his lungs. When he was done acting like a crazy man, he pointed at me and shouted, “I knew this guy wouldn’t disappoint!”
Everyone yelled and cheered and many mimicked his ear-splitting rebel yell. I was apparently caught up in a Goth pep rally, in my honor.
“On second thought,” I said to Atticai. “Give me some of that.”
I walked around the fire and over to him. He grinned and handed me the wooden container. I sniffed the contents and almost lost my own lunch and dinner. It smelled like dead fish and dead everything else. But it was too late to turn back. Everyone was watching me. Holding my breath, I downed the disgusting contents as if it was water.
Yeah, it was the worst thing I had ever drunk.
I tried not to puke. But I was fired up. As I pulled away from the wooden jug, I yelled at the top of my lungs—the same Braveheart warrior yell that Atticai seemed to prefer—and everyone immediately cheered.
And as they bellowed and whooped and hollered, I could only think: What the hell have I gotten myself into?
Chapter Six
Everyone went back to partying.
The music got cranked up louder, and insanity seemed to fill the air. I went and sat on a giant log next to the bonfire. I looked over at Lena, who was still standing with Atticai. For once, he didn’t have his arms around her. She caught me looking at her, and gave me a look that suggested I had somehow been accepted.
Did I even want to be accepted by these people?
That putrid drink was pretty powerful. I had a buzz going almost instantly. Redheaded Yari walked over to me. Damn, she looked terrific. Her black lace dress looked pretty spectacular on her, too. That Rubidoux character had gotten my testosterone raging and now Yari’s outfit was sending my hormones through the roof.
“You had quite a night,” she said, sitting next to me. She sipped a bluish drink in a clear glass.
“Whatcha drinking?” I asked. My voice, I noticed was slightly slurred. It also sounded distant, too, as if I had spoken from about ten feet away. Weird, I know.
“Oh, it’s my own peculiar blend. I call it ‘Sex On the Beach and Everywhere Else, Too.”
“Is that a joke?”
“If you want it to be.”
I looked at her. God, she was a bright light in all this Goth doom and gloom. She smiled at me. I smiled back. I wanted to kiss her, until I reminded myself that earlier tonight I had watched her drink from some guy’s neck. I said. “You know, you guys are going to have to give me back. Kidnapping is illegal in this state. And all other states, for that matter.”
“I’ll take you back any time you want. Do you want to leave?”
I thought about that. The party was raging around me. Bodies dancing around the massive bonfires. There was a sense of excitement, of freedom, of hungry passion. The hungry part, admittedly, made me a little nervous, but other than that, this was a pretty cool party.
“I guess not,” I said, shrugging. “At least, not yet.”
She smiled knowingly, as if she already kne
w what my answer would be. She said, “We figured those guys would have thrown you under the bus once the cops came. You were probably looking at about ten counts of attempted murder. No joke.” She was probably right.
“Luckily, none of those assholes even knew my name.” I guessed I should be more grateful that the Addams Family here took a liking to me. “I guess I’ll stick around for a while, as long as no one tries to eat me.”
She laughed. “Cool. Let’s go for a walk.” Yari took my hand and led me off the Flatlands lot and into the woods.
I was quiet for a bit. I felt safe with her. I don’t think I had ever met a girl who could kick as much ass as me. “Who are you guys?” I finally asked. “Are you all part of a band or something?”
“Why do you say that?”
“It makes sense. I thought maybe your band’s name was Con?”
“Con?” Yari laughed.
“The letters that are written across Atticai’s back.”
“Those are initials. It’s an acronym for Children of the Night.”
“And what—or who—is that?”
“Us. Our clan. Our group.”
“All those people back there?”
“No, just mainly the ones who kidnapped you.” Yari smiled at me again.
“So, what are you guys, then? A club?”
“Something like that. We’re just some people who have one or two things in common.”
I guess biting into people’s flesh and thinking you were vampires were the things they had in common, but I decided to keep that to myself. Instead, I said, “Are any of those guys back there your boyfriend?”
Yari smiled at me. “Do you think if I had a boyfriend back there that I would be out here in the woods with you now?”
“Probably not.”
“Besides,” she added, “I don’t do the boyfriend thing. Too much drama.” I could feel her eyes on me. “What about you? Got yourself a girlfriend?”
“It’s been awhile since I had one.”
“And why is that?”
“I don’t have the time. And, like you, I’m not into all the games.”
“I guess we have something in common, then.” Yari handed me her drink.
“I guess we do.” I took a sip. “That tastes pretty decent. Granted, that’s not saying much, but I think anything would taste better than the crap Atticai gave me.”
She smiled. “Well, despite popular opinion, I’m still very much a girl, and I like girlie drinks.”
“Trust me, you are very much all girl—or all woman— from where I stand.”
“Are you flirting with me, Josiah?”
“Maybe,” I said.
We stopped walking, and I leaned up against a tree. Yari sat on a giant rock next to me. I looked down at Yari—and decided that we needed to get real. “So, what the hell is all of this, Yari? And please be honest with me.”
“What is what?”
“You know, the ‘Hellbanger’s Ball’ back there. How many more guys like Rubidoux are going to want a piece of me before the night is through?”
Yari stood up and walked over to me. She was pretty tall for a girl, just a couple inches shorter than me, which put her at about 5’8”. She looked directly into my eyes. Damn, she was gorgeous. “Well, I can’t tell you everything; at least, not yet.” She then reached out with her left hand and started to play with my bangs. “But you do have that blond, surfer-boy thing going on. I guess you stick out here.”
“You think?” I said, trying to sound casual and confident. I had to admit. She made me nervous in more ways than one. “I don’t exactly blend in. I might be the most tanned dude at this party.”
Now she began to stroke my longish hair. Her red-painted nails scratched my cheeks lightly as she did so. “You’re very cute, Josiah.”
“Thank you.” I said completely thrown off my game. “You’re pretty cute yourself.”
“Cute, huh? Like a kitten?”
“Cute like a lioness.”
Yari laughed, but remained in control. “A lioness, huh? I just might devour you, watch out.” Yari leaned her body up against me.
“Please, no more biting.”
“I promise.” Now Yari ran her hand up my thigh. “So, is it fair to say that you like me, Josiah?” She was pressing all of her weight up against me now.
I swallowed.
“Oh, my,” she continued. “I think you do like me, Josiah. I can feel you.”
Yari’s hip had now pinned mine up against the tree. I stood my ground and instinctively licked my lips.
“So, you think I’m going to kiss you, huh? And why would you think that?”
“I don’t know...maybe it’s because you’re pressed up against me so tightly that, by now, I’m pretty sure you even know if I’m circumcised or not.”
“Oh, you’re circumcised.” Yari winked at me. I felt myself blush, damn her.
She leaned in and gently pecked my lips. I gently pecked her back. That seemed to be the invitation she was needing. She moved in even closer and now used the tip of her tongue to lick my lips. I stood there like a trained tiger. I wanted to pounce, but I allowed her to play her game. She licked my top lip first and then my bottom lip. She reached her hand down and slid it up my thigh, stopping just short of touching my livelihood.
“I think I’m going to save some for later,” she said. She then eased off me. “We should probably go back.”
“Really?” I said, completely shocked.
“It’s probably a good idea.”
I adjusted myself and hid the disappointment in my voice. “Hey, it’s your party.”
She patted my cheek. “Trust me, when I tell you that it will be well worth it. But I do want a taste.” Yari leaned in again and kissed me passionately. It was the perfect kiss. She came in slow and intensely sensual. Then there was a slight build-up, with just enough passion that it ignited all my senses. Now my hormones took over. I pressed her up against the tree. I grabbed her thigh with my left hand and slid my fingers slowly up her dress. I was just about to touch her panty line when she grabbed my hand.
“Like I said, I want to save some for later.”
“I guess you’re the queen of this jungle.”
“That I am.”
“Wow...what a night.” I adjusted myself and did a little shake dance to get the blood to other parts of my body.
Yari looked over at me. “You’re cute, Josiah. Almost too cute.”
“You should see me fight. In the ring. Against one guy. Trust me, there’s nothing cute about that.”
“Someday, I will.”
“Promise?”
“Yeah, I promise.”
Chapter Seven
Yari and I walked back to the party, which had devolved into something that looked straight out of Lord of the Flies. Shirts off and barefoot, people were dancing around fires in a ritualistic way that raised my eyebrows and sent a chill down my spine. Either that, or they were drunk out of their gourds. Also, there seemed to be a lot of birds flying overhead. I hadn’t noticed that before. The birds were large and black, and they appeared to be ravens. Maybe they were attracted to the fires? I didn’t know, and I honestly didn’t care—especially after that amazing kiss. Hell, it was all I could do just to keep my feet planted on the ground.
Still in a daze, we walked together to the same log, I had previously sat on. Atticai saw us and came over.
“Hey, Josiah,” he said, “Let’s have a little chat.”
Was Yari part of his harem? Did I just make a monumental blunder that would probably get me killed? Yari patted my hand reassuringly. I wasn’t scared of Atticai. Hell, I wasn’t scared of anyone. If that weird bastard attacked me, I knew I was in for the fight of my life, especially with all of his friends around.
I reluctantly parted from Yari and followed Atticai over to his van. He got into the driver’s side, and I got into the passenger’s side. He turned the key in the ignition just enough to power up. He turned the radio on. “What’
s your music of choice?” he asked.
“I don’t care. Choose whatever you want.”
“I like classical. But the stations out here on the West Coast would rather go under financially with some God-awful hip-hop station than to give Mozart and Bach a chance.”
“I love classical.” And I did, too. I had a music appreciation class back in high school and had been introduced to all the greats in classical and jazz.
Atticai said, “You don’t strike me as the classical music type.”
“You’d be surprised what I like. Now about the real part of the chat you requested. Let’s get to it,” I said.
Atticai looked directly at me. I found his stare slightly unnerving. After a second or two, he said, “I see Yari’s made your list.”
Oh great, now he was going to give me the low-down. “Look, Atticai, I meant no disrespect. She wanted to walk, and quite frankly, I needed to clear my head. If you’re seeing her—”
“Relax my friend, it’s not like that. I’m just letting you know that you might not want to get too close to her.”
“Let me guess: for my own good?”
His lips peeled back into a dark grin. “Yeah, something like that.”
“Thanks, but I’m a big boy. I can handle myself.”
“Consider yourself warned.”
“Like I said, ‘thanks.’”
He nodded and put his seat back, and waved his hands in the air like a maestro. He rolled his head in my direction. “So what’s your story, Josiah?”
“What do you mean?”
“I mean, I’ve seen a lot of stuff in my time. But I can only count on one hand how many times I’ve seen someone like you.”
“There can be only one,” I joked, wondering if he would get the cultural reference to Highlander. He didn’t.
He paused and I wondered just how old he was. He made it sound as if he was ancient. He couldn’t have been more than a few years older than me. He went on, “When we arrived to get Lena, there were five guys sprawled on the ground, all beat to a pulp by you.”
I shrugged. “It doesn’t take much skill to beat up a few drunk, horny assholes.”