Chapter 10

The thick crowd cooed with wonder and awe at the light show on Fremont Street. Brilliant colors flashed overhead and the music seemed to vibrate the sidewalk as we struggled to inch through the never-ending blanket of live bodies toward the novelty shop Stevenson’s note directed us to.

“It is a novelty shop on the next block,” Shen called over his shoulder while pushing through the unyielding crowd. He took a quick glance over his shoulder to make sure he didn’t lose me.

“I’m right behind ya,” I called back.

I groaned when a woman turned swiftly to address her companion and the enormous tote bag she carried slammed into my ribs. I wondered how she could bear the weight of it. Its impact gave the impression it was filled with lumps of iron.

Although it was evening, the desert air was still too warm for my northeastern standards. Beads of sweat coated my forehead and neck as I persistently nudged my way to keep up with Shen. To the untrained eye, Shen appeared cool and collected, but I knew it was far from the truth. It took years before I was able to understand his training of taking control of his emotions and house them deep at the core of his being. Over time, I learned to look past it and at the real Shen. I only saw him come close to losing control once and that was during our recent visit to Poughkeepsie, New York. It was an art I wanted to learn and something I wished I already possessed a command of. I grunted at Shen’s dry skin as I stopped to mop the sweat from the back of his neck with a handkerchief I’d tucked into my back pocket and then pointed to the open storefront of a novelty shop.

“I think this is it,” I said.

Shen pulled out Stevenson’s note and conferred with it again before searching inside the open wall of the store with his eyes.

“Yes, this is it. Come on,” he replied.

Although the front wall of the store was removed to allow an easy view of our merchandise and an easy access from the street for shoppers, the air inside hung thick and hazy due to the non-stop burning of incense. As a result, the shop had an eerie feeling.

A burst of air from the cooling vents sent a chill down the length of my back and into my legs. I shuddered while we approached the clerk behind the counter that was against the wall, midway into the store. Its position afforded the clerk an easy view of the entire space, should he choose to look.

I stared in disbelief at the tattoos of vampires that looked to be covering most of the clerk’s arms and neck and wondered if he had them on the rest of his body as well. He looked annoyed at our interrupting his reading when Shen handed Stevenson’s note to him. He grudgingly pointed to a door in the back corner without saying a word before burying his face back into the pages of what looked to be a horror novel.

Shen and I walked cautiously toward the back of the store. The merchandise was just as gruesome as the clerk’s tattoos. Statues of miniature vampires in various poses mingled with statues of werewolf’s and other sci-fi monsters as they lined the shelves, while tee shirts sporting dragons and gargoyles hung next to them. I stopped and picked up one of the smaller statues of a vampire bending in a posture that indicated he was biting his victim. Its fine detail gave the statue a realistic look. I felt as if the vampire’s beady red eyes were looking straight into my own sapphire blue ones. A sickening shudder overtook me as I looked at the sturdy white fangs that dominated the statue’s snarling, realistic face. I slammed it back onto the shelf before rushing to catch up with Shen.

Shen turned to look at the clerk as his hand rested on the doorknob in the back of the store. As if sensing his stare, the clerk pulled himself away from his book and looked at us intently with an expressionless face before gesturing for us to proceed with a nod of his head.

Shen turned the handle and slowly pushed the door open. As we walked through, I hesitated. I couldn’t put my finger on it, but something didn’t feel right. The hair on the back of my neck stood at attention. This only occurred when something terrible was about to happen. I could feel it in my gut as well. I pulled on his arm to get his attention. He’d told me very little about his talk with Stevenson, but I surmised we were heading straight into the devil’s den.

“Are you sure about this?” I whispered.

I searched his face. I was thankful I was able to look beyond his mask of assurance to find his true feelings. There was something in his eyes that I’d never seen before. Was it fear, determination, anger? I couldn’t tell. Perhaps it was a bit of each. The one thing I did recognize was the tightness in his jaw-line that told me he was ready for action. He nodded and moved forward. When the door shut behind us I took a deep breath. There was no turning back.

As I moved forward I felt as if I’d walked through an enormous cobweb. I moved my hands all over my face and entire head to remove it but found nothing there.

The smoke from the candles housed in ruby-red globes that dimly illuminated the eighteenth century décor, gave the room a surreal ambiance. I felt as if I was participating in a dream as we moved cautiously amongst small groups of sinister looking men. When I peered closer, I saw they were circled around one or two females, or a man and woman who were performing sexual acts either with each other or alone. I stopped, briefly. My eyes locked with those of a naked young woman as her partner climbed on top of her. The sadness she radiated was overwhelming. I was so struck that I found it difficult to continue when Shen motioned for me to keep up.

We walked slowly while we searched the death-like faces of the men and women. A spectator looked over at us with piercing red eyes and brilliant elongated teeth and I stepped up my pace.

We moved through several rooms that were decorated in eighteenth century furniture, with the same form of entertainment going on and then stopped before a large, gilded door. I jumped back as the door slowly opened on its own volition before either of us were able to touch the gilded lion’s head doorknob. I cast a quick glance at Shen’s steady stance and emotionless expression. Only the firmness of his jaw gave away the tension he was suppressing.

Men and woman dressed in a mixture of period attire were lying languidly around the smoky room with large bongs set amongst them. The tall, foreboding figure of a man of clear Chinese-Caucasian mix was dressed in finely tailored early Napoleonic-period three-piece suit as he sat in a gilded throne on the balcony overlooking the crowded room. His tailcoat and breeches were stitched from deep rich purple silk and velvet. A lavender waistcoat of the same material complemented them nicely. His power permeated the room.

We knew instantly this was the leader of the ring and surmised he must be the Wadim the mystery man in Poughkeepsie mentioned.

Shen recalled his uncle’s warning; You will have a difficult time believing what I am about to tell you. It is too horrible and difficult to tell... We know little of the leader, except that he is not a man. He is a creature from hell. Men have gone to find and destroy him and no one has come back. There are things about this group that you do not know and there is not time to tell you....

Shen was uncertain what to expect as he moved steadily up the staircase. He kept his body on the alert and eyes never left Wadim’s formidable presence.

I walked less steadily and far more slowly, as I nervously looked around the crowded room. I didn’t need the sickening feeling in my stomach and the raised hair on the back of my neck to tell me the danger was acute, but they certainly accentuated the fact. I reached the top of the stairway and stopped behind Shen.

My voice was barely above a whisper as I said, “This place is creepy and these people look evil. Did you see their red eyes and fang-like teeth? I’m starting to believe your story about vampires. They can’t all be vampires, can they? Do you think we’re standing in a room full of vampires? I hope not.”

Shen didn’t respond as he walked steadily toward Wadim while mulling in his mind the fact that he probably should have warned me that he was bringing me into a vampire’s den, but would I have believed him? I got to know Shen and his people and culture fairly well over the years, but I still looked upon much of their traditions and lore with humor. I’d scoffed at the concept of vampires existing several times during our journey, so it probably would have done no good to mention it anyway.

Shen recognized several faces in the room from that afternoon in the casino. From everything he was told in all the stories about vampires over the years, it was clear they could only go out at night. Therefore, he was sure they weren’t all vampires. Even so, they were definitely in partnership with them in some way or they wouldn’t be languidly lying around as they were. He decided to stay quiet and see what awaited.

I surveyed the room as I cautiously followed my friend. I found it odd that no one took any real notice of our entrance or the fact that we were climbing the stairs toward the man who appeared to be their leader. They spared us a less-than-curious glance, if that, before going about their business of smoking and listening to the soft music of Mozart that was being piped into the room.

We were about five feet in front of Wadim when guards in eighteenth century Tibetan armor popped out from seemingly nowhere and surrounded us. Startled, we moved immediately into defense position, keeping our backs close to each other while we slowly turned to size up our opponents.

Wadim looked at us curiously.

“What do we have here?” he asked with a hint of humor in his voice. “Ah, yes. You must be Wu. I have been expecting you. They tell me you are you looking for a Chinese woman.” He gave Shen a challenging look, “Maybe you would like us both?”

Shen should not have been surprised to discover Wadim knew of him and was waiting for him. His uncle warned him of this possibility. Even so, it unnerved him. As he hastened to regain his composure, he silently reminded himself to keep on the alert. The place reeked of evil and danger and he struggled to shake off a foreboding feeling that felt heavy enough to pin him flat to the floor.

“I am told Dao-Ming was taken by your men,” he said boldly.

He was pleased by his success in maintaining a steady voice that didn’t display his true emotions.

“Hmm... Who is she to you?” Wadim asked.

Of course Wadim already knew Dao-Ming was Shen’s childhood friend and fiancé; which was the only reason he’d kept her untouched. It was really Shen he wanted, not Dao-Ming.

Wadim wanted him for two reasons. First, his bloodline was of a rare, aristocratic purity. The combination of Shen’s father’s and mother’s bloodlines created something that would equate to the fabled fountain of youth for Wadim. As an extra boon, Dao-Ming also had a pedigree bloodline. It was Wadim’s desire to breed Shen with her to maintain that high quality that was needed to keep his project going. Secondly, Wadim hadn’t forgotten the years he endured under the assault of Shen’s family while they tried to destroy him. Once he was finished with Shen as a breeder, it would give him great pleasure to seek his revenge by destroying him. Yes, devouring Shen’s bloodline would be a double pleasure.

“We are to be married,” Shen said.

Although my friend spoke boldly, I could detect a slight tremble in his mannerism that anyone who didn’t know him probably wouldn’t be able to catch it.

Wadim’s laughter reverberated off the walls.

“You mean you were to be married,” he boomed.

Shen’s body coiled for action. Just as he was about to plunge forward, I grabbed him and pulled him back. I held him firmly while attempting to calm him down before the guards could take action.

“That was a wise move, Mr. Tugur,” Wadim said with a sultry coo as he looked me up and down.

I was discovering, firsthand, how the prey of a hunter must feel when it comes face to face with its plight. My knees went weak as I realized that not only was Wadim waiting for us, but he knew our names as well.

“You are surprised that I know who you are?” Wadim asked with a satisfied look on his face. “You fought well in Poughkeepsie. I can see why you are Wu’s star pupil and teaching assistant. Yes, Wu, I am aware that you teach in your uncle’s Dojo in Queens. You see, your reputation precedes you.”

It was obvious to me that this man was playing with us and that Stevenson had set us up to be trapped. The tension emanating from Shen flooded the balcony. I fervently hoped he’ d maintain good sense and stay calm. Even though I’d never seen Shen lose his composure, there was a first time for everything and this just might be the time. He was clearly dangerously close.

“Where is Dao-Ming?” he demanded.

He was growing tired of the suspense and would rather finish it off than endure this type of taunting. He was ready for whatever evil may be in store for us. It had to be better than this suspenseful taunting.

“Yes, Dao-Ming... Hmm,” Wadim said with twinkling red eyes.

The attempt to appear ignorant by this arrogant buffoon was the final straw for Shen. Throwing caution to the wind he fought at my hold. I struggled to maintain my grip as the guards moved forward. Two guards grabbed my arms while another brought the flat of his sword down on Shen’s head with a superhuman power. I winced at the sound of the impact as my friend fell like a rag doll to the floor. Wadim leaped into the light, allowing me the full impact of his evil face. His fiery red eyes told of his Asian ancestry. They were accentuated by the jet black straight hair that flowed down to the middle of his back and pale, almost translucent skin that was mottled by protruding veins. He held up his bony hands that sported talon-like manicured nails and signaled for the guards to stop.

“That’s enough! I don’t want them hurt!” he commanded.

Wadim’s roar commanded immediate obedience. The guards parted as he walked up to Shen and me. Still gripping my arms, the guards pulled me around to face their master, while two more lifted my unconscious friend to his feet in the same manner. Wadim smiled at the blood oozing from Shen’s wound. He bent close to sniff it first and then tasted it.

I could smell the foulness of Wadim’s breath as he brushed passed me to hover over Shen.

Dear God, this is a nightmare. Let me wake up soon! I thought with despair.

“I treasure the blood of the Wu clan. It tastes rich and sweet,” Wadim purred. The sharp ends of his claw-like nails dug into my chin as he cupped it in his pale, bony hand while turning my head back and forth with a look of disgust on his face. “There is something familiar about you, but I just cannot place it right now.” He slapped my face hard enough to leave a deep red and soon-to-be-purple welt in my cheek. My first instinct was for defense. My eyes filled with rage as I struggled against the guards’ grip, causing Wadim to cock an eyebrow in mild amusement. “He has spunk. Take him below. He could prove entertaining.”

The guards dragged me off the balcony and to a dark, and what appeared to be never-ending, stairwell. I wailed in surprise when a foot met the small of my back and sent me tumbling down the steep stairs to what felt like the center of the earth. When I finally slammed into the damp and dank dirt floor at its bottom, a pair of hairy hands were waiting to pick me up and toss me into a large cage.

Between the jumbling, tossing, and darkness, I’d completely lost my sense of location. It wasn’t until the sound of metal to metal rang through the dust ridden black from my being tossed into the cage and a key turned in the lock that I managed to regain a sense of direction. I listened with anguish to the cries and moans from fellow prisoners as they echoed off the walls while I struggled to adjust my eyes to my surroundings. Little by little, I was able to make out the shapes of the poor, pathetic wretches who were either locked in cages or chained along the walls of an enormous medieval styled dungeon.

Fear permeated every fiber of my being as to what fate awaited me. I moved to the furthest corner of the cell and crouched low. I’m not ashamed to admit that unabashed tears flooded my cheeks as I prayed for salvation from this nightmare and the strength to endure it. I think anyone in my situation would have behaved the same, if not worse.