by H. T. Night
Dammit, just when I thought I was supposed to ignore this crap, now I have to deal with it straight on.
I washed my face and headed back to Romero and Wyatt.
“You okay?” Wyatt asked.
“I’m good,” I said. “I actually have never been better.”
“That’s what I want to hear.” Romero said. Then he blatantly changed the subject and tone and said, “You two ready to see some of the greatest fights you have ever seen?”
“It’ll be nice to see someone else fight for a change,” I said. With that, the three of us left the bunker.
Chapter Twelve
Romero stayed on a dirt road, and continued south of Tijuana. We went about fifteen miles along a bumpy dirt road. To the left of us, I could see a well-lit area. It reminded me of an Indian casino you could see back in California that would just be out in the middle of nowhere. But this was no Indian casino. It was an arena that had enough security out front to protect Fort Knox. I noticed that all the security were dressed like the man who was looking after the church. Their attire was military fatigues and they openly carried automatic weapons. There was no mistaking that these guys would shoot you on sight if you were going to make trouble.
We pulled into the compound that reminded me of a military base. It was fenced in by barbed wire along a chain link fence. I wasn’t sure exactly what they were trying to keep out or who they were trying to keep in. All I knew was that it was excessive, and that didn’t sit right with me.
It was quickly apparent that Romero was the man in charge. Everyone saluted him as if he was a four-star general. I was beginning to think there was a lot more to this guy besides “businessman.”
As we made our way into the compound, there was a giant arena in the middle of the small city. It was built like the old Roman Coliseum I had seen in pictures. The only difference was that this coliseum had a roof.
We parked in front of the coliseum, or arena, as it was, and got out of the Ferrari. I was pretty blown away by Romero’s facility and the obvious pull he had in this place.
“Welcome to the new era of sports entertainment, gentlemen. My fights make MMA look like a freaking tea party. Let’s go inside and I’ll show you around.”
This was definitely exciting. This was the kind of place that was right up my alley. If my life hadn’t gone in the direction that it did, I could have easily seen myself ending up in a place like this. A place where the toughest men in the world slug it out to see who’s on top always got me excited.
As we entered the coliseum, the first thing that stood out was that it was very modern on the inside. It looked like the inside of the Staples Center in Los Angeles. There were escalators and elevators to get to each level of the arena. Romero had spent a lot of money on the décor of the place. It was fancy and at the same time rustic and had a definite personality that was all its own.
As we walked deeper into the arena, I heard an awful howling sound coming from one section of the arena. They were obviously the sounds of werewolves. Where they were coming from exactly, I didn’t have much of an idea. I was about to find out soon. Romero was leading us to the howling. He was definitely not keeping it a secret. He obviously had no problem showing us what the reason was for such horrid cries in the night.
We entered a giant room. It reminded me of a boxing gym. It wasn’t in the main arena. It was a holding area where the fighters would get ready for their matches. I had seen holding areas such as these at arenas in the States. There was a giant difference in this holding area, however. This one had werewolves in cages. The moon was full outside so all the Carni had transitioned hours before. I felt sick to my stomach seeing them cooped up in cages, roaming back and forth like wild animals. It was because of Tommy that I knew werewolves were real people with real feelings. I didn’t hate Carni the way most Mani did. I knew they had souls and were just as real as we were.
I looked at Romero with disgust and said, “If the fighters want to be here and are fighting on their own accord, why do you keep them in cages?”
“It’s by their own request that we keep Carni in cages once they turn all wolfie. They only want to fight when they are in the ring. That’s the only time they are getting paid. It’s for everyone’s safety, and no one is more adamant about Carni being in cages once the full moon hits, than the Carni themselves.”
I guess it made sense. Tommy himself had insisted on being in a cage until he was able to control it.
We walked through the room and all the fighters stared me down. They would nod at Romero, but they all knew I was a new guy who Romero was trying to bring in. I had seen these kinds of looks before when I would go to a new workout gym to train. It’s just in men’s nature to size another up. It’s was as primal as men’s innate need to want to provide for their families.
We made our way to the other side of the room and there were two black double doors. Apparently, the fighters had to walk through the holding area to get inside the main arena area. Romero opened the two black double doors and the three of us walked into the arena. The inside of the arena was smoky and dark. There were a lot of very well-dressed people in the crowd. They were all seated at tables looking toward the center of the ring.
I looked in the ring and saw a cage. Inside the cage there appeared to be a Mani fighting a Carni. As far as I could tell, the Mani was winning. The Carni seemed badly injured and confused in the ring. It made me a bit nauseous watching it, knowing that Carni are no better than dogs when they turn. That werewolf in the ring was disoriented and no matter what Romero said, he was definitely exploiting them.
We exited through a side door of the arena and Romero led us up a small stairway that was only a few steps. I could tell we were still on the first floor, but we were just elevated a tad. We walked up to a set of doors in a small hallway that I assumed led to a couple of luxury suites. Then Romero turned to Wyatt and said, “With all due respect, do you mind if I watch the fights with Josiah privately? I’ll have you in the suite next to us, and I’ll make sure women keep you company and make your stay one you’ll always remember.”
Wyatt looked at me. I nodded at him and assured him I’d be all right. He was then led into the suite next to ours by a bodacious blonde that looked like she was ‘a party ready to happen’ all by herself.
Wyatt walked over and then stopped at the doorway. “There is no need for any female companionship.” He made a gesture to the woman that basically told her to hit the road.
“What would you like, Wyatt?” Romero asked. “We don’t judge here.”
“It’s nothing like that. I just might want to get a power nap in before all is said and done.”
“Oh, trust me; you won’t sleep watching what’s out there,” Romero said, confidently.
Wyatt looked at Romero and said, “I’ve seen Josiah kick a lot of ass over the past six months. I doubt I’ll be too impressed.”
Romero nodded his head, seemingly pleased by Wyatt’s statement. Wyatt went into the suite and shut the door. Romero led me to his own private suite.
Romero’s suite was much larger than the one Wyatt was in. Inside the suite was a feast laid out that was fit for a king. There were also three of the most gorgeous women serving us. Something told me that serving food wasn’t the only duty they had on their job description.
“I know you can’t eat,” Romero said. “But there might be something you can gnaw on.”
“That’s where you’re wrong, I said. “I can still eat whatever I want.”
“A vampire that can eat regular food? This I’ve got to see.”
I made myself a plate; I packed on ribs, mashed potatoes, coleslaw, and corn. I took five or six helpings of cornbread. I was pretty hungry, it had been hours since I had eaten last.
Romero, shocked, looked at me and said, “This is a first, even for me, and I have seen everything.”
I grinned at Romero. “Why are you so certain I’m a vampire?” I asked.
“Because I saw you fl
y across the sky holding the girl. I’m pretty sure you’re not Superman. I had only seen one other Mani ever do that, so I knew you were something special.”
I looked around the room and I wasn’t sure how we were going to watch the fights. The room was covered by walls on all four sides of the room. Romero snapped his fingers, and that question was quickly answered for me. The wall directly in front of us lifted up and there was a large piece of what I assumed was bulletproof glass separating us. I could see right into the ring. This was an amazing spot to watch the fight. I was almost eye level with the ring. Why was I surprised? This guy owned the damn place.
“So, are the fights pretty gruesome?” I asked.
“Oh, you’re in for a show, Josiah. Trust me on that one.”
The women in the suite were so hot they could have all been swimsuit models, and their hostess outfits might as well have been bathing suits. That might have been less revealing. They did plenty of bending over and were very flirtatious when offering me napkins and condiments. Don’t get me wrong, I’m a man’s man through and through, but there is something about a woman who is on the clock that’s a big turn off to me.
Romero said something in Spanish to the ladies and all three smiled at me and then left the room. I’m not sure what he said, but the girls left in a hurry.
“You sure know how to clear a room,” I said.
“They know the drill.”
“Do you entertain potential clients here a lot?”
“Only the best ones,” Romero winked at me. Romero walked over and sat in the seat right next to me. He had a giant bottle of tequila with him and two double shot glasses that he had grabbed from the counter.
“Are you planning on getting me drunk, so I sign on?” I asked, with a mixture of sarcasm and truth in my voice.
“We don’t do contracts here. If I tell you that you get paid a certain amount, that’s what you get paid. My word is better than ink.”
“Doing business that way must save you a fortune in lawyer fees.”
Romero poured his top shelf tequila into the two giant shot glasses and handed me one. “To good health,” Romero said.
“To health,” I agreed, clicking his glass. I downed the shot like it was water.
Damn!
It might have gone down like water, but the after taste was lethal.
“Put a little hair on that chest did it?” Romero chuckled.
“I’m kind of a lightweight,” I said.
“Seriously? That surprises me.”
“I’m just not a big drinker,” I said. “Don’t get me wrong, I like to party with the best of them, I just don’t prefer to have my judgment altered by outside forces.”
“One thing I learned a long time ago, Josiah. I’m at my best with a little alcohol in me.” Romero then poured himself a second shot.
“It doesn’t make for impaired judgment?” I asked.
“All a person’s best decisions are made with his judgment impaired. It’s called liquid courage. Some people need it to be able to fight, hit on girls, or to just get the balls to do something you never thought you could do sober. I use it to make business decisions. So far, it’s been a pretty good method.”
I looked around at Romero’s gigantic arena. One thing Romero had was material things, so if that’s what makes a guy like this feel and be successful, he was definitely doing okay. As I looked out into the arena I could see a giant spotlight that shined right smack into the middle of the ring. The fight I had seen earlier was obviously over and I could only imagine that the vampire won.
“A cage over the ring,” I said. “Is that for effect?”
“Have you been around a werewolf, Josiah? They are savages. Werewolves have no idea they’re even fighting in a ring or in front of a crowd, for that matter. The Carni that fight for me make the decision to go in there and fight. No one twists their arms to be here. As a matter of fact, I have a waiting list a mile long for Carni to get in here.”
“You don’t need to explain it to me,” I said.
“I have heard that you are one of the rare Mani who has a soft spot for the werewolf.”
“I have a good friend who’s a Carni.”
“I have heard that,” Romero said.
“I guess there’s not much you don’t already know.”
“It’s how you get to be as rich as me, you need to do your research. To be honest, Carni are a lot easier to deal with than Mani, no offense.”
“No offense taken.”
“When these werewolves are in their human forms, they are the ones who ask for the cages. They understand that once they switch into their werewolf form, they have zero cognitive thought of deciding between right and wrong. They just know to kill.”
“That’s where you’re wrong. Some can.”
Romero laughed. “I’d like to see that. A werewolf with cognitive thought would be the most lethal entity on this planet.”
What Romero didn’t know was I knew of such a werewolf. I decided not to say anything to him about my knowledge of Tommy’s abilities.
“Have another shot with me, Josiah?” Romero said, as he poured me another.
“Okay, but like I said, I’m a light weight.”
“I promise I won’t take advantage of you,” Romero winked at me. “Unless you’re into that kind of thing?”
“Sorry, I’m all about the ladies,” I said, with certainty.
“So am I. But to close a deal, I might be up for anything,” Romero laughed.
“You really want me to fight for you, don’t you?”
“Josiah, you’re a blonde, blue-eyed vampire that is as tough as nails and when you transition you become a freaking white eagle. What’s there not to love about you? You’re a promoter’s dream. Trust me, together you and I would become very rich.”
Very rich had a nice ring to it. I was no different than anybody else. Money is attractive. In another world, and under other circumstances, I might have jumped at this opportunity. But, I knew I had a bigger calling. I had just had everything explained to me by the Deity. The last thing I needed to be doing was getting caught up in some underground, insane fighting league that exploits Carni and Mani to billionaires. I had to admit, I was very fascinated by it all. Perhaps it was the alpha male in me that liked to always know who the toughest person or thing on the planet was, but this scene wasn’t going to be for me as a fighter.
“When’s the next fight?” I asked, opening a bottle of beer that Romero brought over from the refrigerator.
“Right now. They will be bringing the ‘Wolf’ in any second.”
This should be very interesting. I enjoyed my beer and looked out into the crowd. It was the classiest-looking fight club I had ever seen. All the men were sitting at tables instead of stands. It looked like the Golden Globes does on television. All the men were dressed in top of the line Armani suits, smoking cigars and with gorgeous women on their arms.
“How many people are here tonight?” I asked.
“Maybe five hundred,” Romero answered. “At fifty grand a head, it’s a nice bit of change.”
I did the math in my drunken state of mind. “That’s $25 million,” I said, nearly spitting out my beer. I had already downed my second double shot and was now enjoying a Coors Light chaser.
“That’s just tonight. On the third night of the full moon is when we have our super-bouts. We charge $200,000 a head on those nights. We usually pack this place at about a thousand people.”
My head was spinning doing the math. This guy was making $250 million every month. Now I knew where this guy got off. He was freaking loaded. Money is so intoxicating when you think about those kinds of numbers.
“What do you pay your fighters?” I asked.
“It doesn’t matter what I pay the fighters,” Romero answered. “All that would matter is what I would be paying you.”
“And that would be?”
“Anywhere between five hundred thousand to a million a fight,” Romero answered, p
lainly.
“What if I wanted five million?” I said, pushing the envelope.
“There’s always room for negotiation.” Again, Romero winked at me. This guy sure liked to wink. There’s something a tad untrustworthy about a winker.
I nodded my head and looked out into the arena. I tried to play it off like I wasn’t just offered a million dollars to do something I usually do for free on any given night. Fighting was in my blood and with the buzz I was sporting, a million dollars sounded pretty damn good.
Suddenly, music started to play over the loudspeakers and the lights inside the arena began spinning like it was the beginning to an NBA basketball game.
“The fighters have theme music and a light show?” I asked, laughing.
“I’m all about entertainment, baby,” Romero said, proud of his product.
Then a ring announcer came into the ring. He had one of those great ring voices for this kind of an event. “Welcome, ladies and gentlemen,” he said in a very deep, roaring voice. “The third fight on tonight’s card is a fight between two fan favorites. First in this corner, we have Vengeance.” The crowd went nuts with both cheers and boos. Then the two black double doors opened and a dark-haired fellow came running out like he was on speed. I assumed he was a Mani, because he sure wasn’t a wolf. This guy was as hyperactive as a four-year-old on a trip to Disneyland. He sprinted and dove into the ring.
“Who’s Vengeance?” I asked Romero.
“He’s a Brazilian vampire that is rumored to have killed a hundred Carni in one night in some Brazilian night club, just for the hell of it.”
“Just for the hell of it, that sounds like a nice little marketing tool.”
“You’re catching on, Josiah.”
“He does have a lot of energy, I will give you that,” I said.
“That’s an understatement,” Romero laughed, in agreement.
The ring announcer continued. “And, for all you werewolf lovers out there, do we have a treat for you!” The crowd erupted in a flurry of applause.