H.T. Night's 8-Book Vampire Box Set (45 page)

As I expected, the low value of the leu to
the dollar had caused a big influx of American tourism. Hell, even
America celebrates its dead celebrities more than their live ones.
But this, getting to see THE Dracula’s Castle, the residence of the
legendary creature of terror who started it all—it was now reduced
to a cheap Travelocity destination by the recession, which had cut
a wide swatch across Eastern Europe and left in its wake, a
ridiculously cheap way to go on vacation. Apparently, a bottle of
wine could be had for about $1.50 US, and gasoline—petrol—was about
45 cents a liter. I was floored. I might not have to use the credit
cards at all if I was careful.

As I approached Dracula’s Castle, with its
whitewashed walls and turrets, I could see two tour buses parked in
front of the amazing structure.

How was I going to find this gnome? There
were tourists everywhere, I needed to come back at night when they
weren’t all crowding the gift shop, looking for Dracula swag to buy
and take home to Kansas. God, I hope Dracula was real and I wasn’t
just having a bad recurring dream. To see the legend reduced to a
fake plastic fangs on key chains and humorous bumper stickers must
have had him rolling over in his grave, if that’s where he hid out
when he wasn’t getting fried like a donut, too.

I flew around until it got dark—yay, eagle
wings! If not for eagle wings, I would never see daylight. I made
my way to one the nicest hotels in town, the Casa Luxemburg, a
hotel with a medieval look to it and the Expedia price of $98 for
two nights, including tax. Sweet.

I transitioned back to my Mani form and
landed. I was still wearing my ripped tuxedo from the night before.
My wallet was still in my front pocket. How the hell did my clothes
return to my body? I decided to buy some simple clothes at the gift
shop in the lobby. I grabbed a couple pair of shorts and a couple
of t-shirts. I got one that read ‘I survived Dracula’s castle, and
all I got was a bite on my neck and this lousy T-shirt’.

I got a room on the top floor, so I could
just fly in and out of the window. I know this flying thing has
made me lazy in some respects.

I went into my room and laid down on my bed
in the spacious clean room that faced the square full of pretty
Romanian girls selling little wooden shoes bottle openers. I was
exhausted from flying all day and decided I could use a nap before
going back to Dracula’s castle.

I turned on the cooling fan and just stared
at it, willing it to feel like air conditioning. It paid no
attention to my superpowers. Within moments, I had fallen asleep. I
had fully expected to have a vision, but I didn’t. Instead I slept
pretty soundly. I opened my eyes and looked outside. I had been
asleep for about two hours.

I opened the window and felt the cold breeze
on my face. I raised the window to its fullest level and then
transitioned into the eagle. I flew out of the window and made my
way to Dracula’s Castle.

I transitioned to my Mani form midflight.
Maybe I did it for dramatics; but how many times does one come to a
notorious castle such as this one? I wanted to fly in and witness
it as a man, not as a bird. I circled the castle and from the night
sky it was a sight to behold in person. The accuracy from my vision
astounded me. I lowered my flight and I could see the beautiful
courtyard that was dead center of the castle. There was a large
open space in which some light has made its way through.

I looked closely, and there he was, the blue
gnome! I saw a man no larger than four feet tall sitting in some
kind of cross-legged, yoga, relaxed position. He had a bald blue
head to go along with his blue body. He was a shirtless, wearing
black denim shorts and brown hiking boots. He looked like he was a
painted up to audition for a mini-me Blue Man Group tribute
band.

Trying to sneak up on him, I eased into the
courtyard, but I didn’t time it well enough, and I hit the ground
with a force that really should have broken both my legs. I fell to
the ground about two feet in front of the creature. Not to mention,
I said “Oooff!” when I fell.

He looked down on me with his squinty yellow
eyes. “You made it, Josiah. Not exactly the most graceful of
entrances, but you’re here.” He seemed genuinely happy to see
me.

“Hey ,there,” I stood up and was tad
embarrassed, but I was eager to see what this meeting entailed.
“You obviously know who I am,” I said. “What is your name?”

He smiled and stood on his feet. “I am
Goshi,” and he bowed with his hands clasped together like a Kung Fu
Master.

“Goshi,” I repeated his name back at him.
“Nice. I like.”

“Have you come a long way?” he asked.

“I came halfway across the world to meet you
and hear what you have to say. You didn’t exactly give me your
email address in the visions. That might have been helpful.”

“You are from the States?” he asked. I was
surprised he didn’t know where I came from. I assumed whomever or
whatever told him to meet me here would have given him more of a
heads’ up.

“Yes, California,” I answered.

He looked like he was trying to think of
something to say nice about California. After a moment he said, “I
hear you have good fish tacos. We don’t have those here.”

I chuckled. I was enjoying our little meet
and greet, but I had some questions that needed to be answered
ASAP.

“Who are you?” I asked simply to the little
blue man. “And who has sent you to speak to me?”

“Who has sent me?” he looked at me
puzzled.

“How come our paths have crossed?” I
clarified.

“The world is a unpredictable place and what
was belief has become skepticism. What was once fantasy is now
reality.”

“I appreciate the Yoda double talk, but
seriously, who are you?”

“I told you, I am Goshi,” he said
calmly.

“Okay, Goshi, you mentioned in one of my
dreams that I needed to come see you to be trained like some kind
of vampire Jedi. So, let’s start with that. Why would a Mani man
need to be trained by a tro—” I caught myself because I didn’t want
to insult him.

“A troll?” he asked. “Is that what you meant
to say?”

“Is that what you are?” I asked,
honestly.

“This is the form that was given to me so I
could remain discreet,” he said, plainly.

“Why the blue?”

“Why not? It is the color of sky, sapphires,
and most of all, blood in the veins.”

“Okay. You just said the magic word. Blood.
Has the Triat sent you to me?”

“You ask too many questions. It’s time for
your first lesson. Let’s discuss fighting.”

“Fighting? You are going to teach me how to
fight?”

“Why does that perplex you?”

I shook my head and decided I’d better start
showing some humility, or this was not going to be the greatest of
experiences.

“Okay, what do I need to learn?” I
asked.

“Let’s see.” The troll got into a fighter
position.

“You want to fight me?” I asked,
surprised.

“I need to know your weaknesses.”

Was this guy for real? I had killed one of
the most notorious vampires of all time, not to mention a mammoth
werewolf to. Fighting was the last thing I needed help with.

“Attack me,” he said.

I stood still.

“Attack me!” he repeated.

“It’s not right. You don’t have my reach, my
weight, my MMA training.”

“Do it, Josiah!” he demanded.

Everything in my core did not want to attack
this tiny man, but dammit! I needed to get this show on the
road.

I lunged forward and threw a nonchalant
right cross at about half strength, handicapping myself in a
foolish sense of fairness. He ducked and then kicked me right in
the balls. As I began to go down in slo-mo, I recognized the
maneuver from a tiny opponent as one of the dastardly moves in one
of the Austin Powers movies. Yes, the balls. I’m not sugar coating
it. This little blue shit kicked me as hard as he could in my
testicles. Not cool! I fell backwards, holding my manhood, my
package. I was hurt and angry.

“Why the hell did you do that?” I screamed
at him.

“Because you attacked me,” he said.

“You told me to!”

“Do you do everything people tell you to?
Even when you know it is not the right thing to do?”

“I do when I travel across the world to see
them! You kicked me in the worst spot possible!” I felt my groin
and I don’t think I had ever been kicked that hard in that
particular area in my entire life. It hurt on a whole different
level. My feelings were pretty damn hurt, too. I came halfway
around the world to see him and he kicked me in the jewels, almost
first thing! What the hell?

Goshi stood over me while I laid in pain,
trying to get my breath. “It was the worst for you, but it was the
best place for me to strike you. If I know that you have a
kryptonite on your body, why wouldn’t I attack that area?
Especially if you were the one who attacked me first? You were the
one who broke all kinds of ethical ground by attacking me. I don’t
owe you any courtesy after that. Everything is fair game. Even the
privates.”

“So, what’s the lesson here?” I asked,
painfully getting to my feet and trying not to hurl. “I should
start going around kicking my enemies in the nuts and just forget
about martial arts etiquette?”

“No, Josiah. You missed the point. The
lesson is ‘to never attack first.’ You leave yourself not only
vulnerable physically, but vulnerable politically! Why should any
man fight by any kind of code of ethics after being disrespected by
being attacked?”

I shook out my junk from where the parts
were shrunk up into my belly in horror and misery. That little
fucker took way too much pleasure kicking me in my holiest of
holies. “So, never throw the first punch?” I squeaked out.

“No, you can always throw the first punch if
both of you are squared up.”

“What are you saying then?” I asked.

“Never provoke an altercation. Remember when
you and Tommy fought off the werewolves back at Tommy’s cabin? You
went out and attacked the lone werewolf who was only on the
lookout. As you recall, you remained the eagle and you took him by
surprise. You made yourself completely vulnerable. You are not
meant to fight as the eagle. You are only meant to save and defend
when you are in that form.”

I remembered that night, and he was right. I
did attack first. I actually felt bad when I killed him. It was the
only killing that has bothered me. I knew on some level I was wrong
for attacking him first, unprovoked.

Well, what a great first lesson. I smiled at
Goshi.

“You agree?” Goshi asked.

“I agree,” I said. “How did you know about
that night?”

“Goshi has his ways.” Great, if I didn’t
have enough to worry about, apparently I have had a blue gnome
stalking me spiritually.

Goshi then said, “You also have a problem
with your technique.”

“My fighting technique?” Now this was
getting personal. One thing I had was great technique! “How so?” I
asked.

“You mix it up too much. You like to balance
kicking and punching. If you could win a battle with only one army,
why would risk a second army to go into battle if you didn’t have
to?”

I had an answer for that. I said, “Because
sometimes you would need to give the other army a break, so it can
rest.”

“So, the armies are my arms and legs?”

“Now you’re getting it. Are you resting
them? Or are you showing off? If you can kill a man with a shotgun,
why bring a machete with you? It’s better to get the job done fast,
than to look pretty doing it. Save the drama for…what’s that place?
Hollywood.”

I saw his point. Again, I nodded my
head.

“Let us train, Josiah,” Goshi circled me and
we began sparring with one another. My blue friend proceeded to
show me a variety of ways to punch an opponent when they are off
balance by using my ability to float up in the air. Floating added
a whole new element to positioning in a fight. I noticed that in my
last two altercations, it really threw off my opponents. I just
didn’t know how to control it. We continued to work on striking and
kicking. We eventually stopped at around four in the morning.

“You need to go back to your hotel,” he
said. “You need rest. Also, you need to call whoever is waiting for
you back at home and tell them you will not contact them until our
training is over.”

“Really? She’s my girlfriend. She’s gonna
pout if I put her on the back burner.”

“Really, Josiah. I need your undivided
attention.”

That sucked.

Then Goshi added, “Tomorrow, we will work on
your awful landings. There is nothing graceful about you,
Mani.”

Oh, that hurt almost as much as the groin
kick. Almost.

Chapter Seven

I flew back into the open window of my hotel
room. I went over to the phone by the bed and read the printed card
about how to make an international call in English. I knew this was
going to be the last time I could talk to Lena for a while, and I
needed to make sure it was a good one. I swiped my credit card
through the funky phone interface.

“Hello,” Lena answered.

“Hey, it’s me,” I said.

“It is you,” she said. “Are you the Duke of
Earl yet?”

“Not exactly.”

“Date didn’t go well?”

“It wasn’t a date. I told you I didn’t trust
her. Also, she wasn’t The Duchess of Windsor.”

“Really? She wasn’t Helen?” Lena laughed out
loud. “Don’t tell me you had never seen her picture before?”

“Nope, never.”

“Oh, my gosh, that is so funny!”

“Well, now I have.”

“I hope she didn’t rob you. Should I tell
Hector an English gypsy stole his diamond-plated credit card?”