In an enormous blow, my senses returned to me – and with them, the taste of blood, my hand clamped around and arm and my mouth sucking so hard it hurt. The arm being pulled away despite my feeble protests. And a man's voice. "That's enough for now. She's coming to."
There was a man with a goatee standing over me, wiping blood from his wrist. "Heya kid. Good to see you again."
I only groaned weakly.
"Remember me, kid?" When I didn't reply he laughed and said, "It's me, Nines. Nines Rodriguez, remember?"
I remember you. I groaned incomprehensibly. A woman's face thrust itself into my vision. "Heya, Cammy shit-splat! Not so proud now, huh?" Her voice wasn't cruel but it did find some relish in my situation. Damsel.
"Hey Damsel," I slurred. She giggled. "Hey Cammy. Good to see ya." Earnestly now. I recovered more rapidly now, Nines' blood doing its work. His was the kind of blood that made my own feel like sour, watered-down wine.
"Nines..." I croaked. "Were you the ones I called?"
He nodded. "That's right, kid. We 'Anarchs' don't leave anyone to their fate." He winked. "Not even Camarilla trash."
I tried to sit up, but lacked the strength. "Thanks, guys."
"No problem," Damsel replied, ever cheerful. "Looks like there's things you Cammies just can't do without the help of the Anarchs huh?"
I couldn't help but chuckle. "I guess you got me there." This time I did manage to sit up.
"So..." a deep bass voice came from the back of the room. "Why did you call us, and not LaCroix? I thought you two were such good buddies?"
"Hi Skelter." Skelter nodded back. "I don't mean to minimalize your efforts, but I just speed dialled blindly, any number was good."
Nines laughed. "So maybe that means Fate is trying to show you something eh kid?"
I laughed too, but shook my head. "I don't believe in fate, Nines. But thanks for everything. All of you."
"That's three you owe me now, kid," Nines said with a grin.