I walk into Der Nachtruf. A romantic-looking, fairly elegant vampire is playing Si tu vois ma mère by Sidney Bechet. Damn, I can't deny it. That bastard knows how to play. What he does is beautiful. Vampires and humans alike listen, completely entranced. And for a moment—one very brief moment—I forget what I came here to do: Kill Tony. That German fuck. If he weren't so ambitious, so megalomaniacal, he could've just stuck to running this club and become a respectable member of Portuondo's high vampire society. But no. Instead of enjoying this business, he wants it all. It would've been so easy to be my subordinate. A good subordinate. My efficient and punctual German subordinate. And that's it—everyone happy.
But hey. This confrontation is inevitable. If you've got delusions of grandeur, you'd better also have the strength to crush those who want that same grandeur—or, of course, those who already have it. The road to power isn't easy. It's a constant fight. And here I am. In the ring. And I think: I won't just make Tony explode. I'll make him explode first—and then every single scumbag crawling through this place tonight. Even that romantic-looking, elegant vampire up there on stage, playing the soprano saxophone with a level of skill that could almost rival Liora's at the piano. Damn, seems this city is full of hidden talent. Or maybe not so hidden. Maybe it's just that, this whole time I've been here, I didn't give a shit.
The song ends, and the crowd bursts into applause. A few seconds later, the stage is taken over by a group of vampires wearing American-style jackets and bow ties. Suddenly, they kick off Rock Around the Clock by Bill Haley & His Comets. Vampires and humans rush to the dance floor. This place is definitely alive. I move a little. Just to get in the vibe. And while I do, I scan the room with my eyes, looking for one of Tony's brothers. Doesn't take long to find one. Of course, I plan to speak to one of them first. I can't afford to be arrogant like last time. Today, I'm just a vampire out for a good time—a vampire who also wants to make it crystal clear that Tony is the one in charge of this city. And what better way to do that than by requesting an audience? No storming into his office this time. Tonight, I'll wait to be granted permission. Like some nobody. Some sorry bastard peddling something no one wants to buy—knocking door to door, saying: "Excuse me, could I please have a moment of your time?"
I walk toward Tony's brother. As I move through the crowd, a few vampires greet me. But exactly what I expected happens. I realize I've lost their respect. They greet me like I'm just one more face in the crowd. Out of politeness. With a hint of disdain. And I read their minds. They make no effort to hide what they're thinking. None. Their thoughts are right there, wide open—and filled with hate. In their heads, they insult me. They wish me dead. They laugh at me—at my defeat, at my disgrace. One vampiress thinks: "Look at him. I once thought he was something. But now I see he's nothing. And God, how disgusting. They say he brought some filthy vampiress into his house, a rat from one of the city's most pestilent neighborhoods. And to think I once dreamed of being his partner." I stare at her. Smile.
"You know I can read your thoughts, right, bitch?"
"Yeah, I know," she says, arrogant. And spits on my shoes.
I want to make her explode. I'm burning with the urge to start painting the walls of this place with blood. But I have to control myself. I keep walking.
I stop in front of Tony's brother. Who's now standing next to another one. Another Tony brother. Two Tony brothers right in front of me. I don't know their names. I don't want to know their names. They're irrelevant. I won't give them the privilege of having a name in this story.
I say:
"Need to speak to Tony."
One of them raises his hand. That classic hold on, don't bother me gesture. I'll get to you in a sec. I'm busy right now. Only this son of a bitch isn't doing anything. He's just standing there with his brother. Both of them. Doing nothing. Not busy with anything. When I'm done with these bastards, there won't be a head left on either of them. I won't even grant them the courtesy I gave Skinny Jan: Destroying the body, but sparing the head. Rest in peace, Flaco.
I wait. The band plays a new song. Then another. And another. Finally, one of the brothers says:
"What do you want?"
"I already told you, man. I want to talk to Tony."
"About what?"
"What do you mean 'about what'? I came to say hello. To pay my respects."
"Your respects?"
"Look, buddy, I just want to live in peace. I'm a reasonable guy. I know when I've lost. All I want now is to enjoy myself and avoid pointless grudges."
"And where's your filthy little whore?"
I know he means Liora. But I play dumb.
"Filthy little whore? What the hell are you talking about, man? I'm a vampire. I suck blood. I'm not a pimp."
They both laugh. Then, without saying a word—no 'wait here,' no gesture, no nothing—one of them turns around and walks toward the main office. A few seconds later, the other one says:
"Hard to believe I once thought you were powerful."
"Yeah, happens to me too when I meet someone new. Appearances can be deceiving, man. Sorry to disappoint you."
The bastard smiles. Then locks his eyes on a human girl who looks perfect for a long night of blood. The fucker is practically drinking her with his gaze.
I look toward the hallway leading to the office. The brother who went to talk to Tony signals me to come over. Waves me over like I'm some miserable Chinese food delivery boy.
I walk over. Down the hall. I step into the office. And there's Tony. He's not sitting behind his desk like last time. The desk is still there, yeah—but now he's sitting on a throne. A fucking medieval king's throne. He stares at me with a serious face. I smile at him. I say:
"Tony, Tony, Tony. The great Tony. My dear German friend. I just wanted you to know…"
Tony cuts me off:
"Kneel, Zico."
"What? Come again?"
"Kneel. And kiss my boots."
I figured he'd pull something theatrical like this. I glance at his brother. Then back at Tony. I have to make him explode. Right now. And then take care of his brother. I lock eyes with that German fuck.
"What are you doing?" Tony says.
And I think: Shit. He's not blowing up. Shit. Come on. Blow up already, you bastard.
Tony starts bleeding from his nose, eyes, and ears. But he doesn't explode. Fuck everything. It's too late. One of Tony's brothers jumps on me. I lose focus. Tony collapses off the throne like he just passed out. I throw the brother with all my strength against the wall. Then I go for Tony. If I can't make him explode, I'll rip out his heart. But damn it—I can't get to him. Another one of his brothers rushes in and tackles me like a football player. I crash into the desk. Wreck it completely. I get back on my feet as fast as I can. But not fast enough. Now they're all there, shielding Tony: his three brothers and four of his followers. I know them. Vampires with some power. Tony's badly hurt. I wrecked him good on the inside. But of course, that's not enough. I had to kill him. And now he's still alive. And everything's fucked. My plan is down the drain. I have to escape. And I do it fighting like a tiger. I make my way down the hallway in a scene worthy of Old Boy. The band's not playing anymore. No music. Once I'm in the club's main room, I cross it like a flash. I'm bruised all over. But at least, for now, I'm alive. Out on the street, I disappear into the dark. I go find Liora.
I climb down into the tunnel, completely defeated. Liora points the revolver I gave her straight at me. But when she sees it's me, she lowers the gun. She smiles. Walks over. And hugs me.
I say:
"We're screwed, little girl. We're seriously fucking screwed."