Chapter 3

Shen’s head throbbed as he merged with the crowd on Las Vegas Blvd while making his back to his hotel.  He’d stepped out for a quick bite to eat at a nearby restaurant and was regretting his decision. The blazing sun was so hot that it scorched his bare head, intensifying the pulsing of the lump he’d received a few days earlier.

He’d awoken, in the middle of the night, stretched out on his bed with no idea of how he’d gotten there. His pillow was spotted with blood that leaked through the make-shift bandage someone -he could only assume was Tatyana or Maggie- applied. He called room service for some aspirin and a strong drink and pulled himself to the bathroom to investigate his wounds.  He suspected he had a concussion.

His disappointment in his meeting with Tatyana was overshadowed by his desire to put as much space between himself and Las Vegas as he could. He booked a flight to New York and telephoned me to fill me in.  Needless to say, I was concerned as well as unhappy with his rashness.

Memories of his last visit to “Sin City” tormented him as he forced his body to move with the never-ending crowd.  He looked around at the tourist’s smiling faces and listened to the jovial shouts of people winning on the slot machines that were temptingly lined along the open walled casinos bordering the crowded sidewalks and wondered if anyone really comprehended how much darkness lurked beneath all the laughter and glitter.

He shuddered as he recalled his time in captivity deep within the confines of Wadim’s horrendous den. His body had recovered relatively quickly, but his soul still suffered. He still had an occasional life-like dream where he relived the experience over and over again.

He was so absorbed in his musing that he almost didn’t recognize Stevenson when he stepped in front of him and blocked his path.

“Well, well. What have we here?”  Stevenson purred as his men circled Shen so closely that he could smell the scent of their perfumed bodies. “You weren’t exactly who I was hoping to run into, but you’ll do.”

Stevenson nodded his head at his lead man, who immediately closed in behind Shen and made the presence of his steel knife clearly known. Shen took a deep breath while he calculated the odds of fighting his way free.  The density of the crowd could go in his favor, but his throbbing head was a definite detriment.  He doubted he’d be able to move through the crowd fast enough to prevent the knife doing severe damage even if he did manage to escape.  He decided it was best to go along peacefully and deal with escape at a more opportune time.

His mind reeled as they made their way through a nearby crowded casino to its back door. He couldn’t believe what was happening. It felt surreal. Only one hour more and he’d have been safely on a plane flying back to New York.  His heart was so heavy with sadness that each pump was an effort.

Stevenson moved quickly through the crowd, while leading them to a warehouse room that could only be reached through the alley behind the seemingly endless row of dumpsters. He stopped in front of a rusty, dingy door.  After looking up and down the alley to make certain no one was looking, he inserted a key into the lock and opened the door.  His men pushed Shen through the wide doorway.  Their sense of urgency for getting in and closing the door was acute.

Once inside, it took a moment for Shen to adjust his eyes to his dimly lit surroundings.  He’d barely enough time to make out the dimensions of the almost barren room before they shuffled him down a long, dimly lit corridor.  By the time he reached his destination, his eyes were accustomed to the lighting. He caught his breath in shocked surprise and repulsion upon seeing the room full of large cages that threatened to burst from the sedated human bodies that were almost piled upon each other.

“What is this place?” he asked, more to himself than anyone else.

“That’s none of your concern, now move it!” roared his captor as he pushed the knife point harder against Shen’s ribs for emphasis.

 “Down here Si Fu,” said another of Stevenson’s men. 

He sneered as he pushed Shen toward an empty cage, forcing him to struggle for his balance.

Shen’s mind reeled with dismay when he found himself being flung into the cage.  His wounded head slammed against its bars and the knot that had only begun to heal broke open. 

He couldn’t believe he was back in the clutches of those people. Wadim’s den was destroyed. How foolish he was to count Stevenson out as a threat and focus only on the vampires.

****

Stevenson paced his tiny office. What luck!  He’d been searching for Tatyana and the baby since Osip contacted him and relayed Dracula’s wishes the week before. Stevenson resented being placed in that position. He especially disliked the fact that the message was relayed by a former captive of his, but he kept this fact to himself.  He hadn’t survived that long by being stupid. Dracula knew of him and knew how to find him. That was enough to make him move and move fast. He knew very little about true vampires.  He hoped they were a little less gruesome than the mutated ones he’d been forced to deal with for the last twenty years.

He was growing old and feeling his years. He’d managed to amass quite a fortune.  Perhaps it was time to consider moving to a tropical climate and retiring. He longed to be someplace serene without the glitter and noise of Las Vegas or the threat of vampires breathing down his neck.  His family was from Jamaica.  Perhaps he could go back there. 

He smiled as he thought of the family house he’d inherited when his grandfather died.  It was positioned on a nice little piece of land. He hadn’t thought of it for many years. Maybe it was time to make it his home.

A scowl replaced his smile. First, he had to do Osip’s bidding.  He was ordered to find Tatyana and the baby.  If she was in Las Vegas, it was only a matter of time before he hunted her down. Las Vegas was his home base since he’d arrived in this country twenty-three years ago.  No one could move in or out of it without him eventually finding out. His people were everywhere. He’d find her and her half-breed baby and turn them over to Osip with the promise that Dracula would know that the capture was his.  

Now, the question at hand was what to do with Shen.  He and his buddies were the reason for Wadim’s destruction. If he was the kind of man who showed appreciation, he’d have to say that he owed Shen and his friends a huge ‘thank you’.

He’d captured Shen on a hunch. Maybe even out of habit.  Shen knew who he was and that could be dangerous. No one knew about his business unless they worked for him or used his services; both of which would incriminate them if they ever told the authorities. Shen did neither. That made him dangerous.  He decided to lock him up until he could decide what to do with him. 

He opened the door of his office and peered across the large adjacent room at the cage his men had shoved Shen into. The martial arts master was pacing like a recently captured lion. Each movement displayed a fine physique beneath the loose clothes that he wore. It was obvious that he was in top condition.

He recalled how impressive Shen was the night Wadim forced him to face their Suma Wrestler. He’d fought a great fight, even if it was a battle he was destined to lose since he was human and the wrestler was a vampire. Things would’ve become a blood bath between the fighters if his buddies hadn’t created their own bloodbath by slaughtering every vampire in the room. He didn’t see it, but heard about it from a few lucky escapees.  He’d snuck out when the vampire killing began, lest he be mistaken for one of them or picked up a stray arrow.

A fighter such as Shen would definitely pull in a good price if he was placed on the market.  He had a buyer in Thailand who’d snatch him in a second. He scowled when he saw Shen favor his head.  Disgust swept through him when he watched his prisoner pull a cloth handkerchief from his back pocket and dab at some blood that was oozing from a rather large lump. A wound like that would bring down the price. He’d have to wait for him to heal. Damn! That wound had better not have been inflicted by any of his men. He’d have their hides!

****

I paced the lobby of the airline terminal.  Shen hadn’t gotten off the plane.  I checked my notes again.  Maybe I’d gotten the flight number wrong. It was possible.  After all, I was pretty taken aback when I found out where Shen was and what he’d attempted to do on his own.  What was he thinking by going to Las Vegas alone? He should have asked Bruce, or me, or even both of us to join him. 

Even though I was sure we’d cleaned out the mutant-vampire den, we could have missed a few. Plus, there was Osip and Dragomir to consider. They’d be looking for Tatyana and the baby.  If Shen was able to find out Tatyana’s whereabouts, then I was pretty sure Dragomir wasn’t far behind.

It was official. I hadn’t missed Shen’s debarkation in the commotion of multiple carriers landing in JFK. The airline security validated that Shen wasn’t on the plane.

It was time to go to Las Vegas.