Nightlord: Orb (28 page)

I didn’t feel like disillusioning her.  Besides, it might be useful to be the scariest vampire in town.  I don’t know; I’ve never had to deal with vampire politics before.  Keria doesn’t count.

“No.  It’s a long story.”  There’s an understatement.  “On another subject, you have three total vampires in the region, right?”

“Three Thessaloniki,” she corrected.  “I don’t know about the others.  We tend to associate with our own bloodlines than to mingle.  It’s mostly a matter of the type of people we pick to be our companions, really.  The elders of the city will know, of course.”

“The Elders are in the city?”

“No, the elders
of
the city.  The eldest of each tribe in a particular city or geographic region form a triumvirate over it.  They’re the local authority, you might say.  It keeps the real Elders from having to deal with everything on a night-to-night basis.”

“Fair enough.  So, will one more well-behaved bloodsucker make a difference?”

“I… I would have to ask Tony.  That is, Antonio.  He’s the Thessaloniki elder here.”

“Okay.  I don’t want to make any trouble.  What I want is to live a quiet life, not bother anyone, and have my own little space all to myself.  Do you think that will be a problem?”

“I wouldn’t think so, but I can’t give you a decision.  If it
was
up to me, I’d say it was okay, but…”

“Right.  So, how do we ask Tony?”

“I really can’t… that is, if I was to bring you to Tony, he’d be more than a little angry.  There are polite protocols for this sort of thing.  Bringing you with me would be like bringing a briefcase of plastique to a business meeting.  It might be completely safe, but its mere presence would make Tony unhappy.”

“I suppose I can see that.  Okay, I tell you what.  How about you go talk to Tony?  I’ll stay here and deal with Powers—he and I have some unfinished business.  I’ll meet you somewhere.  How long will this take?”

“I don’t know.  A night or two.”

“All right.  Is there somewhere we can meet?”

“Um.  How about the Gold Dome?  If I don’t have anything better to do, I like to hang out there.”

“Where is that?”

“You really aren’t from around here, are you?”

“You would not believe how far from home I am,” I told her.  She cocked her head and almost asked, then visibly changed her mind.

“It’s at the corner of Northwest twenty-third and North Classen.  I think it’s twenty-third.  I know how to get there; I don’t pay much attention to the street numbers.  It’s right around in there, anyway—you can’t miss it.  No, really.  You
can’t
.  The cabs know it by name; it’s a landmark.”

“All right. I’ll stop by there some evening soon and look for you. Now, it’s getting late and I think I’m going to have to impress on Mister Powers the seriousness of my wishes.”

“May I ask?”

“Ask what?”

“This is about Mark… Spotnits?”

“Close enough.  Yes.”

“You want him.”

“Yes.”

“As your personal property?”

“In a manner of speaking, yes.  I intend to let him live his life without interference.  At present, someone seems to think firebombing his house is a way to protest Mark’s desire to change employment.”

“I don’t mean to intrude, but does this involve organized crime?  It sounds like it, although I suppose it could be a gang thing.”

“I believe it’s at least somewhat organized.  Powers is involved as middle or upper management, I think.  Mark might be involved at a gang level.  I’m not sure.”

“And you’re new to this era and area?”

“Yes,” I admitted.  She bit her lip uncertainly and hesitated.  She finally made a decision.

“May I offer some advice?  I don’t want to presume,” she added, hastily.  “I would like to help, if you’ll allow me.”

“I’m always eager to learn something new.  What’s your advice?”

“Have you ever heard the phrase, ‘Go big or go home’?”

“I believe I have, or something much like it,” I admitted.

“Whenever I’ve had to deal with anyone in organized… hmm.  No, let me start over.  Do you play poker?  Or some other betting game where you can bluff?”

“Yes.”

“You know how sometimes you raise the bet so steeply your opponent has to either concede what he’s already put in or risk everything to match you?”

“Yes.”

“Do that,” she advised.  “It’s easy to let go a small stake, but it’s harder to give up a big investment.  Losing a little bit also won’t cost as much face, and
everything
with these people is face,” she told me.

“Face?”

“Reputation?  Public opinion?  Street cred?” she tried.  I nodded my understanding and she went on.  “To force one of them to do what you want requires you either bow so deeply they graciously grant your request, thus preserving and enhancing their face, or… or you have to make it clear to everyone it’s a case of
force majeure
.”

“I’m not sure I understand.”

“If someone kicks in your door, it’ll cost you face,” she explained.  “You have to do something about it; it’s an insult and you have to respond or others will think you’re weak.  If a tornado tears down your house, it doesn’t cost you face.  A tornado isn’t out to humiliate you or prove anything.  All you can do is pick up the pieces afterward.”

I nodded, thoughtfully.  That made a certain amount of sense.

“If I’m some guy being a pest, then the pest gets slapped.  If I’m a guardian demon, there’s nothing to be done but hunker down and hope I pass by.”

“Yes… I think.”  She cocked her head, puzzled behind her domino mask.  “What’s a guardian demon?  I’ve heard of a guardian angel, but a demon?”

“It’s sort of a joke.  A guardian angel sits on your shoulder and guards you from harm, right?”

“Right.  Or so I assume.”

“A guardian demon doesn’t guard you.  It punishes whatever hurts you.”

“Oh,” she said, in a small voice.  I took it as my cue to depart in a moderately-theatrical way.  I kicked up into overdrive and left at eye-blurring speeds.  Thank goodness for the brick walk; I would never have managed it on grass without leaving huge gouges in the turf.

The instant I was around the curve of the path, I slowed down; I really need to work up an inertia-reducing spell before doing the high-speed thing.  Do you have any idea how hard it is to make a turn at the speed of dark?  Especially when you weigh what I do?  One false step and I could skid like a motorcycle racer who lost not only his brakes but his
wheels
.  I corner like a fat kid on roller skates.  Apologies to any fat kids currently roller-skating, but I’m sure you can picture it.

I made sure my aura of familiarity was still going and walked inside again.  The party was starting to break up, which suited me.  I explored a small music room while waiting for things to quiet down.  Then, still doing my best to blend in—one late guest is nothing to go bananas over—I made my way upstairs.

Yep, Powers’ bedroom was upstairs.  I suspect he wasn’t married; the lady in the bed struck me as too young for him, but what do I know?  Technically, every woman outside a nursing home is too young for
me
.  He seemed quite disturbed when I drained her of vitality and she went unconscious.  Well, considering what she was doing at the time, I suppose he had reason.

Freed from her distracting influence, he noticed me.  A stranger in the bedroom in such a situation is definitely beyond the limits of the spell.  He made an outraged sound and rolled over on the bed, toward a nightstand.

I broke his forearm and held his wrist against the nightstand.  I clamped my other hand over his mouth to stifle the scream.  I was careful not to break anything but the arm.

“Now you listen to me,” I told him, forcefully.  “I’ve changed my mind about moving along to the next guy up the ladder.  You’re rude, supercilious, and smug.  Now
you
are going to do a job for
me.
  You’re going to make arrangements so Mark Spotznitz gets to walk away from whatever the problem is.  It goes away or pieces of you go away.  Do you understand me?”  I let up on my grip over his mouth so he could answer.  He glared at me, breathing heavily.

“You think because you break in here and threaten—” he began, but I thwacked him on the forehead with one finger, knocking his head back into the pillow and leaving a bruise.  While he was stunned, I reached into his mouth, grabbed a tooth at random, and pulled it out.  He started to scream again and I had to cover his mouth a second time, clamping one hand over his mouth and the other on the back of his neck.  I waited patiently for him to quit squirming and screaming.

“That’s one piece,” I pointed out.  “You have a whole mouthful of pieces.  After the teeth, I’ll start on the toes.  So, by all means, feel free to argue some more.”

He glared at me.  I could feel the blood in his mouth oozing into the palm of my hand.  I wondered how it felt to him.

Go big or go home, Boss
.

Ah, yes.  Thank you for the reminder.

No problem.  You keep him busy; I’ll listen in.

“What we have here is a failure to communicate.  Let me introduce myself.  I’m the Dark.  And you should be very, very afraid of the Dark.  Why?  Because I’m not a human being.  I’m a monster that looks like a human being.”  I grinned.  Teeth help.  What really convinced him, though, was the tongue.  It’s easily a foot long, maybe eighteen inches—I haven’t measured it.  I ran the tip of my tongue along the bridge of his nose and up over the bruise forming on his forehead.  The bruise swelled and turned darker almost immediately—an effect of my blood-attracting nature?  Possibly.  I withdrew my tongue and went back to showing teeth.

“Think of me as Mark’s guardian demon,” I told him.  “I can’t protect him.  I won’t even try to protect him.  Kill him anytime you feel the urge.  What I will do
afterward
is your problem.  I will inflict suffering and loss on anyone who causes him harm or distress.  Kill him and I’ll kill a hundred of you, as high up as I can find, before I simply walk away, whistling cheerfully, and go on about my business.  It will cost you at least a hundred times what it’s worth.  Can you understand that?”

Powers nodded, slightly.  I let go of his face.

“You have to understand,” he insisted, “I can’t do what you want.  Not that I won’t—I get it, you’re pissed—but it isn’t in my power.”

“I’m not unreasonable,” I replied, and let go of his wrist.  “Keep talking.”  He cradled his broken arm to his chest with a wince.

“It’s not up to me,” he continued.  “I can act as a go-between, since you’re so serious about it, but Henderson is the only one who can let a man go.  Spotznitz knows too much to walk.”

“Like what?  No specifics; just in general.”

“He’s been trusted.  He’s seen places and people and merchandise.  If he goes to the authorities, it could get hot all over the place, and heat rises.  If he walks away from us, he could also get pressure from Carlo to give up what he knows.  Then Carlo could push Henderson.  Cops or competition, it’s a chance Henderson won’t take.”

“All right.  Things for you to tell Henderson—in private; I don’t want him feeling humiliated over this.” As I spoke, I picked up a piece of semi-abstract sculpture from a sideboard.  It was a silvery metal like chrome or polished aluminum.  It bent in my undead grip as I twisted; I played with it in a casual fashion, trying to make it look like an absentminded gesture.

“What you tell him is what I already told you.  Explain to him about the Dark and guardian demons.  Then tell him I will burn down every piece of property he owns, kill everyone who works for him, destroy every business he has a finger in.  Think about that,” I instructed him.  “How many houses does he own?  Where are they?  How many warehouses?  What do they store?  How many businesses?  What to they sell?  If they were all to burn, what would be the financial damage?  If a building collapsed and the police showed up to examine the corpses of everyone inside, how would that affect business?  It’s food for thought.”

Powers kept staring at the sculpture I was mangling.  Firebrand chuckled into my head and urged me to continue quizzing Powers while he was distracted.

“Now imagine Henderson, himself.  How many people are directly under him?  Do you think I can find them?  And how many people are under them?  Consider everyone in that organizational tier.  If they all wound up dismembered and in a pile, would there be much mourning?”

Good work, Boss.  This guy knows everybody.

And I may need to know who they are.  And where to find them.

Gotcha.

“I’m not going to do this for any reason but spite,” I continued.  “Not to make money; not to take over.  For no reason at all but to ruin him and everyone associated with him. 
I
won’t go through the courts. I won’t need a warrant; I won’t listen to a lawyer.  If he gets investigated in the process, I’ll kill his lawyer and any lawyer—every lawyer—that tries to defend him.

“Convince him of the seriousness of this situation.  Do you think you can do that?” I finished, dropping the metallic knotwork on the bed.  Powers’ eyes were practically riveted to it.  I had to repeat my question.