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~ ~ SEVERAL MONTHS LATER ~ ~
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"Watch it, man!" Gunn landed hard on the pavement. He glanced down, arm scraped and bleeding. "Oh you're messed up now, kid. C'mere an' get what's comin' to ya!" Gunn hauled himself to his feet and whistled over to his best friend, "Rondell! Over here!"

A good looking kid, older than Charles by a mere three months, Rondell's eyes flashed acknowledgment. He threw his load over to Gunn before being taken down hard himself. "You got 'em, now, G-man! Finish it off!"

Gunn took one long stride, two, three... and threw down the slam dunk.

"You got lucky that time." Junior wiped his arm across a sweaty brow as Gunn let go of the rim and landed softly on the blacktop. "No one beats my man to man defense and lives to tell the tale."

"Yer jest sore 'cause now you gotta make dinner for everyone." Gunn bounced the basketball from hand to hand, passing it between his legs once or twice for show. Alonna and her friend Bernetta giggled. There were ladies in the stands to impress, after all.

The boys gathered up their things and headed back home-- known to the rest of LA simply as 'the warehouse off of 45th and 3rd'. They had agreed that there was nothing like a little physical activity to wear oneself out and make sure he'd sleep really well that night.

Vampire activity had been pretty ordinary for the past few weeks. Late night hunts would turn up the standard dark alleyway ambushes and convenience store knock-offs. To Gunn's crew's credit, they had probably saved the lives of several dozen people over the last four days alone. Still, many of the attacks bore Ty's calling card markings-- slit throats, bellies cut to ribbons-- or, in one case, an actual note that Gunn had taken and never shown to a soul. The others could only imagine what it said.

Despite all of this, Charles figured it was high time that the gang got a little R&R. True, they were always on the look out for fangy party crashers, but it was a healthy change of pace. One couldn't live in the dark 24 hours, 7 days a week. Well, one could try, but unless one was a vampire, the chances of not going stark raving mad in such a setup were next to none.

"Let's get outta 'ere. S'late." Gunn motioned to the others, then pointed at the setting sun. Soon the vampires would be out and about and they needed to be geared up before that happened.

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Nearby, a sleek, jet-black limousine negotiated its way through the windy back streets.

"I have to say, sir, I've chauffeured Limousines since I was 18 years old, and never once have I had such a distinguished passenger in my care. It's been quite a pleasure, and I do hope that you will---"

"Oh will you just shut your trap for two minutes? It wouldn't kill you."

Chastised, the driver closed his mouth for what was, probably, the first time all evening. The silence didn't last long however, "I'm sorry if I offended you and your friends in any way, sir. It was not my intent to---"

A snarl came from the back seat.

A snarl? The driver was perplexed. He didn't remember permitting his guests to bring a pet along with them. It was a major breach of policy to allow such a thing. Dogs had a tendency to scratch up the naugahyde with their claws... shed all over the rug... and, of course, leave little "presents" all over the place.

"Pull over, you blundering idiot."

"Well, sir, I----"

"Pull the freakin' car over!" One of the man's larger companions bellowed. Not wishing to get into an altercation with this gentleman, the driver did as he was told.

"Get out!" The same man continued to bark orders.

The driver pushed open his door and got out somewhat reluctantly. This was decidedly an irregular procedure. He tensed up a bit as the large gentleman stepped from the passenger side and approached slowly.

"Is there some problem?" The driver had to squint in the dim street lights to see the face of his passenger. He stepped forward to try and get a better view of the man... which was when he was grabbed and dragged off down an alleyway and into the shadows. The "dog" growled as the driver screamed in terror.