The Ivory Tower

The Willis Tower is the tallest building in all of Chicago, from its highest vantage point known as The Skydeck, its possible to see every corner of the city.  From the coast of Michigan Lake to the edges of Gary Indiana, on a clear day you can even see the city lights of Davenport.  This tower was built for kings and though this king did not call the tower home, tonight he stood at the glass window overlooking Chicago and he knew it was his, all of it.
Dressed in a tailored Signoria suit worth more then the average American makes in a month, with a glass of blood laced 50 Year Old Balvenie Single Malt Scotch that cost as much every time he took a sip, Kevin Jackson, the prince of the city was waiting for his entertainment to arrive.  It had been a while since he fed and though he never has any reason to go hungry these days, sometimes he lets himself build up a good thirst to remind himself of where he came from, how his life was just a couple of decades prior.  Starving, working the beats, trying to stay alive in a city of vampires that used him like a sacrificial pawn in a chess game no one actually cared who won or lost, the players just enjoyed watching the world burn.  It was patience that got him here, enduring the hunger, buying his time and though he would like to think that with the city his, he could kick back and enjoy his immortality, but nothing could be further from the truth.  He learned early on that the game must always be played, if you rest, you die.
His cell phone buzzed, Jackson pulled it out of his suit pocket, thumbing the green answer button without looking.  "Go", its all he had to say, anyone calling this phone would know not to fuck around.  "We need to talk", the voice on the other line promised an interruption to his entertainment, Jackson hated to have his entertainment disturbed, it was his time.  "Fuck that, whatever it is, we do it tomorrow", Jackson responded, getting ready to hang up.  "I found a vic.", it was words this old gangster had been waiting for, it would seem an interruption was inevitable. 
"Where you at?", Kevin knew he wasn't going to get an actual location.  "10 minutes out", the man on the phone responded.  "Alright negro, you know where to find me".  The phone hung up, Jackson quickly dialed a number manually.  He dialed all numbers manually, he figured if your number wasn't important enough to remember, you may as well not exist.  
"Yes Mr Jackson", the young voice was smooth, sexy and gentle, hand picked for just that reason.  "I'm going to need to postpone our little party, take them down to the club, I'll meet up with you later", Jackson was disappointed, but business is business.  "Yes sir, I will take care of it".  The phone hung up, leaving Jackson with his drink, it was good, but even a 50 year old scotch was only so good, he needed the real thing.
The voice on the phone said 10 minutes, security was bringing him through the doors of this large indoor observatory within 9 minutes, everyone knows you don't keep Kevin Jackson waiting.
"How is my favorite Anarch?", the joke never got old and he knew Damien hated it, but with Jackson establishing dominance was always the first order of  business in any conversation.  Damien walked in looking underdressed compared to the prince wearing a t-shirt that said "Baby Chorus" with a Rastafarian in the background. "Can you get those motherfuckers to stop touching my dick every time I come through here, its big, its a weapon but it ain't here for you", Damien also knew how to let the prince know that he was not to be fucked with.  They laughed together, Jackson reached for a remote off the glass table in the middle of the observatory and hit shuffle on the controller.  50 cent came on, just loud enough to act as white noise.  The two sat down on the leather sofa opposite of each other.
"Who is the source?", Jackson opened, he knew well enough that information is only as good as who was providing it and though he trusted Damien not to come to him with bullshit, he liked to put him on the spot anyway.  "Local nobody, but its verified, two marks, still walking", Damien responded, knowing full well what was coming next.
"How much time do we have?", at this stage Jackson and Damien could have this conversation without words, Damien knew what Jackson was going to ask and Jackson had a pretty good idea how Damien would answer.  Damien however stalled, just long enough for Jackson to realize that he didn't know.  Jackson didn't bother let Damien make an excuse.  "It doesn't matter, whenever it is, this shit is going down soon", Damien felt relived as Jackson spoke, he knew in front of this vamp, not knowing when its your job to know is never a good idea.  Damien shifted leaning back in his seat to try to appear more relaxed, "I just found out about it, for all I know its going down tonight, I figure better you find out from me sooner rather then later", Damien knew it was an excuse, another thing Jackson didn't like, but he also knew he was right, besides he was still holding his ace.
"Who's in play?", it was a fair question from Jackson, Damien was ready for it, it was time to play that ace.  "The queen of disco herself", Damien smiled, he knew Jackson had been waiting for this for a long time.  It was like placing a medal on an Olympic sprinter, his reaction was immediate.   Jackson stood up, adjusted his suit jacket and started to button it up as he spoke.  "Listen to me now, I ain't playing, make this shit happen.  I don't give a fuck what it takes, you bleed whoever you want, I want that bitches dust for my collection, you get me?", Jacksons voice was serious but he was smiling ever so slightly.  Damien was about to speak but Jacksons eyes opened wide and he put his finger up to silence Damien, he wasn't done.  "Did I not tell you that bitch was in play?  I fucking told you right?  Remember six years ago, we were at that Victoria secrets thing when the shit went down and fucking told you then."  Jackson grabbed his drink, paced back over to the glass, taking a big sip as he looked out at the city.
Damien let Jackson have a moment before he spoke, when he finally broke the silence, Jackson turned around to face Damien, looking him in the eye almost as if he knew what was coming.  "Look, you know I got-chu right?  It ain't a question of if, but I'm gonna need some young-bloods for this, you know how locked down this shit is and I ain't fucking Marak and he's not going to like this shit, so don't come back on me when all hell breaks loose telling me you don't like how I handled it and shit. I'm good for it, but this ain't going to be pretty", Damien put his hands out, as if surrendering, he smiled back, he knew where this was going end up.
"Get it done", Jackson responded as he put down his drink on the glass table, trying and failing to collect himself.  "Just get it fucking done, whatever it takes, you hear?", Jackson expression despite all efforts was still a little wild as he grappled with the beast boiling to the surface.  
Damien's demeanor cooling, letting out a bit of a smile "Alright negro, you want it done, I'll get it done, but I'm going to need a solid or two.  Sheriff or not, this shit is going to bring down the heat, you get me".  It was time for the real negotiation to begin, Damien didn't come up here to do the prince any favors.
Jacksons expression cooled, he of course expected something like this, Damien might be his sheriff and though he is certainly in his right to demand his sheriff handle this business, Damien had a way of succeeding when he wanted to and failing when he felt like it.  A reputation he established to let his prince know that he can get shit done, but he's not a Walmart employee.  "Look you do this and Baby Chorus is yours, the whole thing, anyway you want it, its done", Jackson knew what Damien wanted and he always knew he would eventually get it, even if the prince stood in his way.  Now was a good a time as any, especially if Damien gets the job done.
"Alright.", Damien said stretching the words then pausing for a moment, putting his hand together as if clapping.  "Guess I've gotta get to work", Damien said the words with a smile.
As Damien was leaving, Jackson who was already standing at the skydeck windows called out to him.  "Oh and Damien, bring by that new blood tomorrow night, lets give him a proper reception", Jackson didn't bother turning around and neither did Damien, just waving his hand as he walked out the large double doors into the hallway of Willis Towers where security was waiting for him.  As the doors where closing behind Damien, Jackson could hear him talking to the security guards.  "You motherfuckers need to keep your paws off my dick next time or some white boys gonna get shot around here".  Jackson smiled.