Wednesday, June 23, 2100 – 10:10 p.m.
"Events in the past may be roughly divided into those which probably never happened and those which do not matter." – William Ralph Inge

"Joey, she's here," Annie called into the bathroom. Shigeta turned off the shower, hastily wrapped a towel around his waist, and walked into the hall to welcome the woman who, for good or ill, constituted the only dependable backup in his plan.

"Now there's a familiar sight," Joey marveled as he settled his gaze on the young woman in front of him. Amber eyes and shoulder-length blonde hair framed a pale, beautiful face that seemed as if it had been created for a life of pleasure and luxury; in sharp contrast, the worn brown duster, dirt- and blood-stained white tank top, faded, torn blue jeans and filthy brown biker boots spoke of an individual who worked hard for a living. She's got the look down, he decided. Right down to the revolvers, he noted, setting his eyes on two ivory-handled .357 Magnum revolvers holstered low on her hips. "Just seeing you there really takes me back."

"It's been awhile," the woman muttered, her gruff tone eerily reminiscent of her onetime mentor's.

"Annie, this is Blackwell," Joey said with a flourish of his hand. "Blackwell, Annie."

"And now that introductions are done, can we maybe get to work?" Blackwell asked. "And get you some clothes?" she suggested to Shigeta.

"You always this pleasant?" Annie asked with a playful, friendly grin that earned her a sneer in response.

"She's a merc," Joey explained to his hostess, stepping quickly into the bedroom and sliding into a pair of thoroughly broken-in blue jeans and a grey sweatshirt. "She's not supposed to be pleasant."

"Being an anti-social ass is part of the job description," Blackwell agreed, a shadow of a smile passing across her face before the intense glare in her eyes immediately returned.

"And apparently, so is a brown duster," Joey noted as he rejoined the two women. "Though yours doesn't have a many bullet holes as-"

"Don't," Blackwell interrupted. "Let's just get down to business. First off – compensation. You payin' me for this, or are you callin' in one of those favors I owe you?"

"There any of those left?"

"Two."

"You sure?" Joey asked skeptically. "Vancouver?" he asked.

Blackwell nodded.

"There can't be any others."

"Trust me," Blackwell assured him.

"Miami?"

"No, we covered Miami with that cluster-fuck in Erie," Blackwell replied. For the second time, a hint of a smile curled the edge of her lips, but as before, it vanished almost instantly. "I'm thinking about the thing in San Francisco back in '27."

"Good times," Joey nodded. "So it's San Francisco and Vancouver."

"Uh-huh."

"Let's just use up one of them, then," Joey said, doing his best to let Blackwell pay off her debts as quickly as possible. Had she been anyone else, he would have held favors over her for decades, even centuries, but the mercenary was a friend from the old days. Joey didn't have many friends left, and he knew well that one way to alienate the ones he still had was to hold obligations over them. "Annie, give us a few minutes," Joey said, sending his ghoul away while he talked shop with his guest.

"Fine, a freebie job, it is," Blackwell said once Annie left the room. "So what are we here for?"

"We?" Joey asked.

"I have a childe now," Blackwell explained. "I wanted to leave her behind, since I figured the kind of mess you'd get yourself into would probably get a little rough for her, but you know how childer can be."

"Yeah… sure," Joey muttered, eager to change the topic. "Your childe – just how far along is she? Because I lost a veteran corp job team, and I still haven't answered the all-important why. Hell, I haven't even gotten as far as who."

"No leads?"

"All I know for certain is they were picked off one at a time, most of them in their homes, and the last surviving member of my team was killed by a local hunter called The Whisper," Joey answered. "I have to assume that all of this has to do with the last job we did. We were overpaid for an easy tech grab from a biotech corp, and then people started dropping like flies. My hacker was certain someone else was on-site hitting the target at the same time, so it's possible another team was gunning for us. Or maybe the target company thinks we were the other team, so they're taking us out for stealing something far more important than what we actually took… not that what we got wasn't sensitive data, itself. Of course, if The Whisper is involved, this might have to do with me being kindred and have nothing to do with any of our jobs. Which brings me to the part where I also ran into the local sheriff, and he delivered a personal invitation from the prince."

"No shit," Blackwell interrupted. "A prince? I didn't think we had those anymore."

"You know how things go in cycles," Joey shrugged. "Everything old is new again."

Blackwell shook her head in mock frustration, her grin belying her amusement, and then she looked down, her familiar tell letting Joey know she was working through everything he'd told her. "When did you hear from the prince?"

"At the same time everything else started. In fact, people started dying within twenty-four hours of that meeting."

"So was this one of those 'We've noticed that you've been in my city for awhile without presenting yourself' invitations, or was it genuine?"

"Unannounced in my home, but there wasn't any real threat in it," Joey explained. "Actually seemed like he was trying to make a good impression, probably because of what it would say about the prince."

"So how vulnerable is the prince?" Blackwell asked. Shigeta turned a surprised stare in her direction. "You know, just in case we decide to take him out," she added. "I can't imagine you haven't already thought about it."

"It's occurred to me."

"And let's see, if this were the old days, you woulda marched right into his home – or at least Elysium – bearing gifts while you took mental notes on everyone there so that you'd have tactical files on every potential target in the city." A broad smile crossed her face. "You know, just in case."

"That was the old days," Joey muttered.

"So you don't have any intel on them?" Blackwell asked.

"Of course I have intel," Joey answered. "The files are in a box under the bed. But when I went to Elysium, I didn't go bearing gifts."

"Probably a good idea," she agreed. "Too Greek." This time her grin didn't vanish quite as quickly; it seemed the gravity of the situation was actually helping her relax. Joey wasn't sure how he should take that.

"So this childe of yours," Joey prompted. "Where is she?"

"Outside watching what passes for the perimeter."

"So then there's no reason to give me a line of bullshit to spare her feelings. Let me have it – just how likely is she to get herself killed?"

Blackwell's initial response was a grunt, but when Joey didn't continue speaking, she eventually decided to fill the silence. "Well, considering I've been here about three minutes and we've already discussed taking out the prince and every vampire in his court, all while dodging local hunters who are already tracking you, and at least one biotech corp that might want your head on a platter… her chances aren't too great, Joey," Blackwell admitted grimly.

"Wonderful…"

"Just like old times, huh?" Blackwell produced a cigarette – seemingly from thin air – and lit it with a 20th century Zippo, ignoring the smirk she earned from her host.

"We probably should've died countless times back in the old days."

"But we didn't," Blackwell said. "So… how 'bout that ghoul of yours?"

"Hasn't even reached her 'sell by' date," Joey answered. "She's a good kid, though. She saved my ass when I had no one else to turn to. In fact, I'd probably be dead without her."

"Sounds like embrace-worthy material."

"If you're interested, you can have her when we're done here," Joey said. "Though you'll have to foot the bill for ripping out the wetware and compensate me for the cost. Shit's all brand new."

"That's not exactly what I meant," Blackwell replied, shrugging off her duster and tossing it onto a beaten-up couch. Joey noticed the hard, muscular lines in her arms and the taut frame of her shoulders; she'd certainly kept herself busy in the decades since he'd last seen her. "You're not afraid your childe is gonna be stuck with the sins of her sire, are you?"

"I don't want another childe."

"Immortality gets lonely."

"Not if you want to be alone."

"And since when have you ever wanted that?" Blackwell asked. "You used to be the life of the party."

"Party's over," Joey snapped. "I'm Inconnu."

"The Inconnu are gone," the mercenary reminded her old friend. "The elders are all dead, and you were never really one of them, anyway, no matter how potent your blood is. Remember – their one and only rule was noninvolvement. They were separate and apart by choice, and if they still existed they certainly wouldn't be toying with the idea of wiping out the prince and his sycophants. You're not a watcher; you're a meddler."

"The Inconnu only watched because they didn't think about the big picture."

"The big picture?" Blackwell asked with amusement. "There are some who'd say the wars, the near-extermination of our kind, and the widespread destruction caused by nuclear and biological weapons is the result of your clan's efforts to find a place for itself in the big picture. In fact, since you were usually the one who did most of your clan's wheeling and dealing, there are some people who'd say that all the shit the world's been through in the past century is your fault."

"Yeah, well… people are mostly stupid, judgmental assholes."

"Like you, going and torturing yourself over things you couldn't have prevented, even if you had made better decisions. It's been what, seventy years of sitting around feeling sorry for yourself, putting together teams of mortal thieves just to give yourself something to play with?" Blackwell asked. "Enough with the brooding. Time to get back in the game, Johnny."

"Name's Joey."

"Call yourself whatever you want, but cut this feeling sorry for yourself shit. It's so not you. Why'd you even call me, anyway?"

"I need backup."

"People only need backup when they're gonna do something dangerous or, as was often the case with you once upon a time, foolhardy. But for over half a century you've kept walking away when the going gets tough." Joey turned and glared at his guest, but he held his tongue. "Hey, doesn't matter much to me," Blackwell continued. "As far as I'm concerned, dragging my ass halfway across the continent to answer your call is good enough to satisfy one of those two favors I owe you, whether I get shot at or not. But as your friend -"

"Is this how friends talk to each other?" Joey interrupted.

"Not sure," Blackwell admitted, taking a long drag off her cigarette and flicking the ashes onto the thinning carpet. "It's been awhile since I've had a good friend to talk to. Which is why I embraced Carrie. And maybe why you should embrace Annie."

"Drop it."

"Fine. Look, I'm gonna do a few rounds through this shithole city, see what there is to see, get the lay of the land. I'll be back before dawn. Make up your mind by then whether I should plan to leave at dusk tomorrow, or whether Carrie and I will be around for a bit."

To be continued…