White Wolf Publishing owns the "World of Darkness." My use is in no way meant to challenge their copyrights. This piece is not intended for any profit on the part of the writer, nor is it meant to detract from the commercial viability of the aforementioned copyright. Any similarity to any events or persons, either real or fictional, is coincidental and unintended.

…………………………………………………………

Wednesday, January 6, 2100– 4:15 a.m.
"Chaos often breeds life, when order breeds habit." – Henry B. Adams

After two hours of careful, quiet surveillance, Joey Shigeta decided to take a chance. He rode the elevator to the top floor of the building across from his, and then picked the lock to the roof. A few minutes later he was looking at the roof of his own building, three stories below and situated across a four-lane street. Hoped I'd never have to get home this way, he thought miserably, admitting that one reason for selecting his building was the very reason that now presented itself – he could glide over to his roof if he ever needed to sneak in.

The small vampire took a few moments to focus, channeling his blood and imagining himself growing lighter. He stood at the edge, gazing across the road at his destination, hoping that his ability to glide – an ability he had not used in decades – had not somehow been lost to him. If there are any hunters out there, anyone I didn't see… He chased the thought from his head, relying on years of training and experience when it came to detecting surveillance. There's no one watching, and even if there were, no one would be watching for me to glide over from across the street. Stef and Salona only said I was targeted; neither said it was by hunters. Whoever it is just has a professional grudge. Don't be so fucking paranoid.

The vampire stepped cautiously from the edge of the building, half-expecting to plummet to a very painful collision with the sidewalk. To his relief, his body fluttered on a soft zephyr and then glided, silent as a ghost, to the roof of his own apartment building. Within moments he had opened the roof door and walked down to his own floor. He waited in the stairwell for several minutes, straining to hear the slightest indication that anyone was about, waiting and watching for his arrival. There was nothing.

He finally opened the door to his hallway, his left hand wrapped tightly around a Walther PPK he kept hidden in his jacket pocket. No one was there; no weapons were leveled at him; no shots were fired. Okay, maybe Stef and Sal had their wires crossed, he thought, trying to convince himself of something his gut told him was fantasy. Okay, not a chance, he admitted. No way both of them happen to hear the same rumor in two different places. Maybe I'm just lucky.

He reached his door and was just about to slide his identicard when he heard an unfamiliar voice through the door. Male… sounds young. And there's definitely a conversation going on. He tried to make out some of the words but failed miserably. All he could tell for certain was that Jason was inside, speaking with someone Joey did not know. The voices were low, normal; there was no indication that there was an argument or that either person was under duress. A social call? Joey wondered with confusion. When was the last time that happened?

Just to be safe, he swiped his card and had the door open a fraction of a second later. His speed ensured that he was looking down the barrel of his own weapon, and not his visitor's. A middle-aged man was reclining comfortably on Shigeta's couch, keeping an eye on the door as he spoke with Jason.

Well, my anonymous visitor is obviously wealthy, Joey decided, his eyes poring over the man, searching for any valuable clues as to his identity or purpose. His blue, pinstriped, three-piece suit was obviously custom-tailored and appeared to be made of silk, and his black shoes were definitely leather. I'd bet they're even Italian leather, the vampire decided. The man also maintained his pleasant, unconcerned demeanor despite the fact that he was being held at gunpoint.

"I assume you're Mr. Shigeta," he commented pleasantly. "I would stand to greet you as respectfully as you deserve in your own home, but I'm afraid you might shoot me. I'd hate to ruin my suit."

Joey kicked his apartment door closed, never taking his eyes from the man on his couch. A moment later Jason walked into view, a mug of tea in his hands. It was obvious the ghoul did not feel threatened, but Joey knew his retainer would be perfectly willing to get violent if that was how Shigeta decided the situation should play out. The first thing he needed to do was determine what type of threat the man posed; he had no visible weapons, but that meant little. A whole slew of cybernetic upgrades were possible.

"Who are you?" Joey asked. "I mean, you obviously know who I am."

"My name is David Cale," the man said evenly. "I'm the prince's reeve here in Wilmington."

"Come again?"

"I'm the reeve of the city," Cale repeated. "What you younger types might more commonly call a sheriff."

"I know what a reeve is," Joey retorted. "I've read my Chaucer. I know the etymological root of the word sheriff, as well as the meaning and proper use of the word, 'etymological.' It's not just fun and games at the casa de Shigeta. Have to wonder, though, what exactly you mean by prince. Or reeve. Or sheriff."

"If I were a hunter, you'd be dead already," Cale chided. "Are you always so paranoid?"

"It's not paranoia if people are really out to get you."

"And is that your impression? Do you think I'm out to get you?"

"I don't even know who you are," Shigeta pointed out, still aiming the Walther at Cale's forehead. "You claim to be the reeve, but I've never heard of you. You claim to know the prince, but I didn't even know there was one. You're sitting on my couch, and I don't remember ever inviting you."

"He's kindred," Grayson said calmly, obviously trying to defuse the situation before any shooting started.

"The prince understandably prefers to keep a low profile," the reeve told Shigeta.

"Well, keeping a profile so low that no one has heard of him sorta defeats the purpose of claiming dominion over the city," Joey countered. "As a matter of fact, is the prince a he, or is it a she?"

"It's a he," Cale said with a thin smile. "And if I may ask a question of my own?"

"Go ahead," Joey said.

"What clan are you?"

"Now there's a question I haven't heard in a long time," Joey said, surprised at the almost wistful tone of his voice. He lowered his weapon and put it back in his pocket. "How long's it been?" he wondered aloud. "Thirty years? Forty? Could it have been that long?"

"You've obviously lived on your own for awhile," Cale pointed out.

"Out of necessity," Joey replied. "No such thing as safety in numbers anymore, not since hunters got cybered; bastards stopped thinking of it as being outnumbered and started thinking of it as wider target selection. Then, of course, there were eventually enough of them so that they weren't outnumbered anymore. That's when things really started to suck."

"You still haven't answered my question."

"No, I haven't," Joey agreed, leaning against the wall, doing his best to appear as if he was making a big show about trying to stay calm in an unexpected situation, implying a poorly concealed anxiety that he did not actually feel. "I guess it's most accurate to say I don't claim any clan affiliation," he finally said. "I used to be Brujah, though, if that helps any."

"Can't say how long it's been since I've met a Brujah," Cale commented.

"Most were a little too high-profile to escape notice," Joey said. "They also lacked the influential contacts of the Ventrue, Toreador, and Tremere, and they couldn't just melt into the Earth the way so many Gangrel did. Only the sewer rats got it worse than the rabble."

"Of course," Cale nodded, obviously seeing no point in commenting further about the extinction of the Nosferatu clan.

"So how 'bout you, as if I couldn't already guess."

"Ventrue."

Joey nodded and stood back up straight. "So how long have you known about me?"

"Since your break-in at MediStem," Cale answered. "The prince has some interests in that company."

"That's not entirely safe," Joey responded. "Hunters aren't stupid; they realize there were vamps with human contacts, and they know that the kindred will return to their old ways sooner or later. That's a great way to get noticed."

"The prince has taken far more precautions than our forebears ever did. We will not make the same mistakes as others foolishly did."

"Of course not. You've probably found a completely new and exciting way to get yourself discovered and extinguished. I apologize if this seems rude, but I'm going to have to insist that you leave," Joey said, his tone anything but apologetic.

"Would you care to explain why?"

"No. Look, I don't know how this asshole prince of yours likes to do things, but I do things my own way now. There's no more Inner Circle, Camarilla, or Justicars to back up your so-called prince's authority. There's also no more Sabbat to scare me into thinking I'd best stay close to my elders, lest I get myself staked and left for the sun." Joey noted his voice was gradually moving from irritated to furious, but he did not care. He never stopped to reflect on how unlikely he would have been to speak to a prince's emissary in this manner before the wars; nor did he take a moment to think about how much he was giving away by speaking so freely. "You just informed me the prince is busy toying with the mortals, which basically tells me that you're probably under surveillance and that this apartment is no longer safe. So thanks, you just forced me to move. Shithead."

"I think you're overreacting."

"I hope you still feel that way when the Whisper comes looking for you. Not that you'll have much time to reflect on it before he takes your head off."

"The prince would like to speak to you."

"Get out," Shigeta said evenly, finally turning on his heel and glaring at his uninvited guest. "I never asked to meet with the prince. I didn't even know there was a prince. Of course, if he starts playing the games the princes used to play, there isn't going to be a prince for much longer. The only thing I can thank you for is that now I know why people were warning me earlier that I'm a target for a hit."

"Huh?"

"Yeah, that got your attention, didn't it?" Joey stopped for a few moments to etch the reeve's dumbfounded expression into his memory; it had been decades since he had had such an opportunity. "The reason I'm in late tonight is because I was watching my apartment to make sure no one else was watching, waiting for me to stick my head out long enough to get it sliced off. I've gone decades without attracting attention, and now all my careful precautions have been wasted because I happened to hit a company that the prince is using as a plaything."

"Are you sure?" the reeve asked. "About being a target, I mean."

"Jay, we're leaving," Joey told his ghoul before turning back to the reeve. "If you have any doubts, Mr. Cale, feel free to stay here. I'm gonna pack up a few weapons and personal items, and then I'm going to sneak out. Once I'm about a block away, I'm going to press the little button on the detonator I'm gonna take along with me. Then everything else here, everything I've spent decades collecting and valuing, is going to be vaporized, and you along with it if you don't leave. I can only hope that whoever has me in their sights decides that maybe someone else got to me first. Then I think I'll high tail it out of the city at nightfall tomorrow. Enjoy what's left of your life."

"You're joking."

"Like I said, feel free to stay and find out. I couldn't care less." Joey turned away from the reeve and walked briskly into his room, immediately grabbing a small photo album and a picture frame displaying a photograph of him with a petite brunette. He threw that into a large duffel bag, followed by a dozen 10,000-credit chips, several pistols, and a few thousand rounds of ammunition. He strapped a ninja-to to his waist, and then he was headed out the door, not bothering to take a sentimental gaze back at everything he was about to lose. "Jay, we're leaving," he told his ghoul again. "That means now." He heard the front door close as the reeve left, and a minute later Joey and Jay were gone, too.

It was actually two blocks later when Joey finally mustered up the resolve to press the detonator. A bright flash brought his shadow into sharp focus in front of his eyes, and a brief moment later the blast rang through his ears and blew out several windows above him, raining shards of glass over him and his ghoul.

"Now what?" Jay asked sullenly, indifferent to the razor-sharp precipitation and obviously distraught about losing all that he had left behind. As a ghoul, he was still far more attached to the trappings of the mortal world than was his master.

"We go to Riverside," Shigeta grumbled. "I have a small place down there for emergencies."

"And if we're being followed?"

"We'll lose them in Riverside," Joey said confidently, trying to remember the exact route through the subterranean catacombs located below the seediest, most crime-ridden part of Wilmington. "We'll get some sleep during the day and then figure out what we're going to do next."

To be continued………………………………………