by Michael Dunn
“Also,” Dan continued. “Get the staff to clean this mess.”
Processing… processing… processing.
“Yes… it will be done.”
“Thank you, Bernardo.”
Dan stood up and stormed off the balcony holding the gun to his side as if he was James Bond and said, “We got our gun for this evening. I‘m gonna need some time alone.”
Steven and John sat dumbstruck.
John’s horror became anger. With balled fists, John stormed toward Dan when Steven took him by the arm.
“Don’t,” Steven said.
“What?”
“Just don’t. Leave him alone for now. Talk to him later after you both have calmed down.”
“Did you see what he did?”
“How could I not?”
“Then you know…”
“I don’t know anything,” Steven shouted. “What are you are going to tell him that he’s not already feeling? You’re just going to make it worse.”
“He just murdered a man!”
“Yes, he murdered a man who had threatened to murder him, us, and then possibly Dan’s whole family. Dan killed a guy who had set him up, kidnapped him, assaulted him, and then occupationally raped him by forcing him do things that were too disgusting and ludicrous even for Dan; things that he’s still too traumatized to fully comprehend. And, on top of that, this asshole gangster arrives and says the one thing that could trigger Dan to murder.”
“What was that?” John asked, with his arms folded.
“He told Dan he wasn’t funny.”
John’s eyes went large and Steven continued.
“And we learned this whole trip happened because Dan is still furious with his controlling grandmother. All the other stuff that asshole said up to that point were meaningless threats Dan had heard his whole life, but telling him he was not funny and that his grandmother was right made Dan snap. I might have snapped too if it happened to me.”
“I don’t know about that.”
“We still don’t know what will happen to us tonight. Nothing might happen or we might become guests-of-honor sacrifices to their dumb deity, but you yelling at Dan won’t help us. In fact, you will make it worse. Leave him alone and help me figure out how we are going to survive the night.”
The undead servants arrived. Some served John and Steven lunch while the others cleaned up the blood and viscera from the gunshots.
Chapter Eighteen: Evening Preparations
Tex had not arrive alone. He had armed men waiting for his return with the three doctors. The men talked and played on their phones while waiting for their boss to return. Tex surprised them when he insisted on going alone. He told them he had a personal score to settle with one of the doctors. They knew it must be the one who stole from him. The men heard how this American doctor made Roberto Romano look weak, not only to the bosses, but also to his entire crew. Even though he was a lawyer, not a street guy; He could not look weak to anyone because no one in the organization would respect him again. His henchmen believed Tex had entered that castle to beat the shit out of that disrespectful doctor.
“American doctor versus American lawyer,” they laughed. “It would not be a good fight.”
They heard three gunshots from the castle and the laughing stopped.
“What do you think happened?” Marco Rizzo, the driver, asked his friends.
“Maybe the boss got sick of the thief’s mouth and shot him and all his friends,” Dario Gallo suggested. He called Tex. No answer. He sent a text and waited. They waited ten minutes and Dario called again. Again, no answer.
“Did the boss give us any instructions in case he doesn’t answer?” The third man, Rocco Stephani, asked. The other two shook their heads.
“He thought this is easy,” Marco said.
“Let’s take a look around,” Dario ordered. “See if the boss is all right. I’ve wanted to see inside this castle for years.”
*
Behind the locked basement door, the Count and Contessa awoke from their daylong meditation when a disturbance rippled through the castle. It was part of preparing for the night’s events.
“Did you feel that?” The Count asked his wife. She nodded.
The Count smiled, “The sign of the blood-letting has occurred. The first violent act to usher in The Eve of the Dragon.”
The Count was a tall, thin man, but also sickly and frail. His face was long and angular with a sharp, aquiline nose. His slicked back black hair displayed his pronounced widow’s peak. He had thin red lips, and a neatly trimmed goatee, which ended in a decided point past his weak chin. This carefully maintained goatee put those lips in the middle. He had thin shoulders and an emaciated. Notwithstanding that frail body he carried himself with that ‘special aire’ all powerful men possess. He was almost too frail to hold all the magical essence in his body collected over the centuries. Italy had banned titles of nobility in 1948, yet he still referred to himself as Count. He had inherited the title at birth. It was his, and he kept it, law or no law. However, the title of count now had a different meaning, a more magical meaning.
“The Ritual of Alhambra demands blood to begin the ceremony,” he said. “I had no idea our American guests would be so accommodating.”
“It surprises you?”
“That Americans are violent? No, I read about it every day. America cannot go twenty years without an armed conflict. They are some of the most violent people in the world, but I was surprised it was these Americans — doctors, surgeons, healers —who drew first blood for us. Perhaps Beast will grant us a favor for our sacrifice.”
“Perhaps.”
“I is a start, but it may not be enough. We will need to sacrifice our guests to appease the Beast.”
Teresa forced a smiled. “If that is necessary.”
The Count slipped on his bathrobe. “Perhaps the more blood we offer, the better Momawango will heal my body.”
“If the Beast is pleased.”
“I must head into the catacombs to complete the evening’s preparation. Make sure our guests are…”
Both the Count and Contessa’s eyes widened.
“I felt it too,” Teresa said.
“We have intruders,” Count Marius said.
“I will take care of the intruders and our guests for the evening’s festivities.”
The Count nodded and left the meditation chamber for his ancestral catacombs below.
Teresa wrapped herself in her bathrobe and headed upstairs to deal with her new houseguests. At the top of the stairs, Teresa closed her eyes and sensed her houseguests. The Americans were in different rooms. One was in the guest room weeping. One was in the library reading. The last, her beloved, was in the master bedroom writing. She smiled.
She sensed the intruders had entered through the front doors. They searched for their dead boss and were planning to kill her houseguests. She would protect them, especially her beloved.
*
In the catacombs, Count Marius Vincenzo became weary when he should have been exhilarated. It was The Eve of the Dragon when his long practiced abilities would be at their strongest. However, his magical essence had become stronger than his flesh could hold and was seeping out. His mind and magic were strong, but his body was not. He took his ancient body for granted and he was now paying the price. He was a more powerful wizard than Professor Marin, who was an obsessive neophyte compared to the ancient Count. However, the Professor has the Orb of Genoa, which rightfully belonged to the Vincenzo’s. The orb was powerful enough to give the Professor an edge over him, especially in the Count’s weakened condition.
The voices inside the catacombs spoke to him. They were the spirits of dead wizards, and his ancestors.
“You are right to worry,” The voices told him. “Your wife has a new lover. She is planning to kill you tonight and train her new boy.”
“That bitch! After everything I have done for her!”
“Yes, and her new young lover is upstairs, one of the A
merican doctors.”
“I knew it! She has been acting unusual these last few days.”
“Now that Professor Marin has the Orb of Genoa, he plans to kill you too.”
“What must I do?”
“You have many options.”
“Such as?”
“You could choose not to partake in the Ritual of Alhambra until you are healed and stronger.”
“Next.”
“You could…”
“What if I were to switch bodies with Teresa’s new lover?”
The voices conversed. They explained to Marius, “That would not be wise. You are too weak. If you make the switch tonight, you would still need time to acclimate to the new body. You’ve done this before. You know it not only weakens you, but it takes weeks, sometimes months to learn how your new body works.”
“If I kill her new lover, would Momowango reward me?”
“Unknown.”
“What if I killed my wife, her lover, and the other two guests for Momowango in exchange for a body transfer and resurrection?”
“Unknown. The Beast can be… precarious.”
“But the Beast owes me a favor from last time.”
“You trust Momowango?”
“No, but the Beast has shown favoritism toward the most devoted.”
“That is true.”
The Count smiled. He sat down in his meditation position. “Heal me the best you can in the time I have left.”
*
The Sabellas’ men entered through the unlocked front door with their guns drawn. Dario called Tex again, who was still not answering. The front room was marble, spectacular and empty.
“This place is gorgeous,” Marco muttered.
They became lost in the place's splendor and did not notice Teresa’s arrival.
“Like what you see?” She giggled. She was wearing a flimsy bathrobe, which only partially covered her body.
The bewitched men approached her. She stood in a demure posture. Her hand behind her back was a large and lethal claw.
*
Teresa found John in the master bedroom. He jumped when she opened the door.
“I am pleased to see you have made yourself at home.”
“I’m sorry. Wait, you’re up during the day? I thought…”
She stopped his talking with a kiss. John kissed her back. They fell onto the bed. John slid the robe off her and noticed a dab or two of blood on her body.
“What’s that? What happened?”
Teresa noticed the spots of blood she missed on her quick rinsing. Her face reddened with embarrassment.
“Oh that, I had to take care of some intruders.”
“Intruders?”
Teresa nodded and continued to nuzzle his neck.
“What intruders?”
“Your gangster brought friends who were planning to kill you, me, and your friends.”
“So, you killed them instead?”
“Uh-huh,” She nodded and continued to nuzzle his neck.
“You were the dragon who came to our rescue.”
“Uh-huh.”
“How did you do that?”
Teresa groaned and explained, “That is a much longer conversation and explanation I don’t want to have right now. However, you and your friends are still in danger and I will need to explain everything to them. Right now, I need you.”
“Killing those men aroused you?”
Teresa nodded.
“Does that happen often?”
“Depends on the situation. Now, no more questions. We have to hurry. You need to make this quick.”
“Wait, what about… oh, never mind.” John sighed and surrendered.
*
John led Teresa, who was wearing a little black dress, into the library. Steven was reading a book about the Ritual of Alhambra and jumped seeing John leading Teresa into the library.
“Relax. It’s okay,” John assured his friend. “Teresa di Vincenzo meet my friend, Dr. Steven Pierce.”
Teresa held out her hand.
Steven stood and kissed her hand. “It is a pleasure to meet you. I have heard much about you.”
Teresa giggled. “Pleasure is mine. We have little time. We need to find the other one to begin your training.”
Steven said, “I thought she was…”
“I’ll explain later. This is more pressing.”
Steven nodded and followed them to the guest room.
*
Outside the guest room, John warned Teresa, “Just to let you know, Dan Carter is brilliant, but insane.”
“How insane?” Teresa asked a little troubled.
“Um…”
Steven answered for him, “In the past two days, he nearly gave a fat guy called the Professor a cerebral aneurysm just by being Dan.”
Teresa chuckled. “I know who you mean. That would have been funny to watch.”
John added, “He probably gave the gangster he killed an ulcer, also just by being Dan.”
John knocked on the door. Dan answered.
“We have to talk,” John said.
“If you were a chick, I’d be worried, or updating my little black contacts list. If you mean talk about how I spoiled your lunch…”
“We’re way past that. This is something new and far more worrisome.”
Dan opened the door, and they stepped inside.
John made the introduction. “Teresa di Vincenzo, this is Dr. Dan Carter.”
The Contessa held out her hand. Dan shook it as if they were soul brothers. Teresa was confused. John shook his head.
“Nice to meet you, Dr. Carter.”
“Nice to meet you too. However, it is still daylight, so how are you…”
“Dan, stop.” John ordered. “Not the time.”
“What do they mean about daylight?” Teresa asked.
“Not important right now. You said time was of the essence.”
Teresa nodded. “You are correct. Sit with them. This is for all of you.”
They sat down on the bed while Teresa stood. Dan raised his hand and snickering.
“No, Dan, this is serious.” John said.
“Dan, get into doctor mode. We need you here to focus.”
They watched Dan sink into his quiet, but hyper-focused mode.
“We do not expect you three to survive the night. My husband is planning to offer your lives to a demon known as Momowango, which is why he is letting you stay here this evening. The Professor was also planning to offer you. You are vacationing Americans, who became mixed up with the local mafia. Your disappearances will surprise no one. The cursory investigation will find nothing. However, I am talking to you, because I want to save you lives. Each of you has magic in you.”
They paused and glanced at Dan, who had a serious visage.
“What?” He asked.
Teresa shook her head and continued. She pointed to Steven and said, “Your gift is your heart. Once you learn to open it, you will be powerful.”
She pointed to John and said, “Your gift is your imagination. I will teach you how to use it later.”
She pointed to Dan and said, “Your gift is your… lunacy, your unpredictability. It is a difficult discipline to learn, but rewarding to whomever can master it. One wizard I know who fought with the path of lunacy is Balik Malistane in Bonn. I digress. Since you have already exposed, um, sensitive parts of your body to the Orb of Genoa, you already have a dose of its power inside of you. Your lunacy with the gem has helped you survive the past couple of days, but you will need to train yourself to survive tonight. Do you understand?”
Dan nodded. They waited for a comment. Dan stayed quiet.
Teresa continued and spoke to the class, “I have made a concoction that will temporarily boost your magical potential. You three are like planted seeds that must break through the soil to sprout and then you can grow. The hardest part for the seed is to push through the soil. That is where you three are now. I will present one lesson on how to push thr
ough the soil. You cannot do it in one afternoon, but I can show you how to start. Sit on the floor.”
They did.
“Sit like you are meditating.”
They did.
“Now, I will show each of you how to increase your potential.”
Teresa began her individual instruction and handed each doctor a personalized vial of blue liquid they downed like a nasty-tasting shot.
“Stay here and meditate until someone notifies you it is dinner time.”
To John, she said, “Come with me.”
John stood up. Teresa led him by the hand back to the master bedroom.
“I have a special plan for you,” she said.
“Thanks, but I don’t think I am ready for another…”
“My husband knows about us and he will try to kill both of us tonight. By killing you, he will appease the beast he worships.”
“You don’t worship...?”
Teresa shook her head. “No, that is a short-cut to power that has serious costs. My husband is suffering from those costs now. If he kills me in a certain way this evening, not only will he get rid of an unfaithful wife, but also he will take my powers as his own tonight. I cannot let that happen.”
“Okay?”
“I will give you some of my abilities to save us both this evening. Sit, please.”
John sat on the floor next to her. Teresa produced a white cloth from her bag and unfurled it on the floor. “The gift I am giving to you is a most intimate gift. It means not only do I love you, but I also trust you, and have faith you will protect me if necessary. By giving you this gift. I open myself to you. I will be vulnerable this evening. Even you may have enough power to hurt me.
She prepared the ritual on the white cloth. She waved her hand, whispered some words John could barely hear, and then read from a book she removed from her bag. She removed a long, thin box from her bag. She opened it, removed a special needle and stuck herself in the palm and drew blood. Teresa closed her eyes and whispered some words. A tear fell from her right eye.
“Give me your left hand,” she said, wiping her eye.
John did as she asked and before the doctor could warn her of the dangers of shared needles, she pricked him and let her blood and her tear flow into him. She wiped the needle, returned it to the box, picked up the items on the white cloth and returned them to her bag.
