Chapter One

Manolo Garza sat alone in his hotel room, staring at the green and gold suit of lights he would be wearing the next day as he made his way into the bullring. He could have been appearing in any other Mexican city this upcoming Sunday, rather than Nogales. This was just a dusty border town across the Arizona line with a bullring seating only 5,000. It was ideal to meet his needs. That was all.

The suit of lights. It was called that because in the sunlight the reflection of the lame’ spangles seemed to vibrate with a life all their own, glistening in an explosion of color.

The bulls had been good to him. He was growing rich, becoming famous and no longer the young dreamer of days gone by, though most people would have considered being twenty one a life that was beginning, not nearing an end. Yes, the bulls had been good to him, except for one.

“Gaditano.”

He said the name aloud and his eyes started to glow with hatred. This was the only bull he ever despised. In the ring, he didn’t like to kill the animals that much, but it was the way of things. In this one solitary case, however, he relished the chance.

That was what brought him to Nogales, where he had rented the ring himself and would act as lone matador, facing all four bulls without an alternate next to him. That way he and Gaditano would be assured of a meeting.

“Gaditano.”

The name meant “someone from the province of Cadiz in Spain”, which was taken from the title of a song in English and it was fitting. Gaditano had slammed the hell out of him on the Eliseo Manzano ranch down in Hermosillo and nearly knocked him all the way to Spain. He had not forgotten the incident.

“Gaditano.”

Matadors were supposed to live for their art and not revenge, but this was different. The entire set of circumstances that had brought man and beast to this point was uncanny. The cost had been so high, but he planned it all. The long day of revenge was finally near at hand and he already paid much for the privilege.

“Gaditano.”

The bull was four years old now. Three years had passed and he had asked Eliseo Manzano himself to save that animal for him. Again, the circumstances were unprecedented.

Gaditano had nearly cost him his life when this creature from hell was just a calf. Afterward, the beast had indirectly cost him his marriage, his mind and his compassion. Where other bullfighters longed for the cheers and the glory, he had spent three years waiting. He lived to kill only one bull.

They had met on the ranch at the tienta, the time when young bulls we