The Last Round was a dive bar, which seemed to fit with the kine and Kindred that hung around it. I walked upstairs, looking for Nines and found Jack sitting at a table, nursing a bottle of what looked like beer. He looked up and smiled at me, waving me over. I pulled out a seat next to him and leaned my arms on the table before me.
"You made it," he said.
"By the skin of my fangs," I snorted, nicking his bottle and taking a swing. It wasn't beer, it was Jauger and blood.
"So I heard," he laughed, reaching over and swiping the bottle from my hands.
"Jauger, Jack?" I asked.
"Made with deer blood," he said.
"I thought that was a myth," I said.
"Nope," he replied. "It was made for vampires, but humans got their hands on it."
"Hmmm," was my reply. We sat in silence for a moment, passing the bottle back and forth.
"I'm glad to see you," he said, finally. "I was getting a bit worried."
"I can handle myself," I said, a little miffed at his lack of confidence.
"Never said ya couldn't," he replied, leveling me with an intense gaze, "But, kid, there are a lot of things out there that will kill first and ask questions later, and while I know you're good, you're not old enough to recognize them."
I bit my lip and looked down at the worn table.
"Yeah, I'm starting to learn that," I said. He reached over and laid his wide, calloused hand over mine.
"Watch your back, always, and if you feel suspicious, run like hell," he advised.
"I will," I said. He nodded and took a swing of the bottle as Nines walked up the stairs.
"Hey, newbie," he greeted and sat down next to me. Jack eyed us and stood.
"I'll leave ya'll to talk," he said, walking towards the stairs. He paused, put his hand on my shoulder and said;
"Remember what I said."
"Thanks, Dad," I teased. His face broke into a grin and he ruffled my hair, then patted my back.
"Someone's gotta watch out for ya," he said, then walked down the stairs.
"Jack's a good guy," Nines commented.
"Yeah, I don't know what I would have done without him," I replied. We were quiet for a moment, then I looked up at him.
"You said you would tell me the real score," I reminded him. He popped the cap off his own bottle and took a swing.
"I did," He agreed. "Here's what I got to tell you - and so you know, I don't lecture, I don't rap, I'm no bureaucrat; I'm just a guy out of nowhere came to be involved in something five-hundred times bigger than you and me."
"Go on," I said. Nines scowled.
"What? Hang on a sec," he leaned over towards the stairs, "SHUT UP!"
I covered my mouth to hide my giggle. He grinned.
"As I was sayin', all this, the life we lead - it's a mess. It's older than this city, this country, who knows how long this shit's gone on."
"I figured that much," I said. I glanced behind him and saw what time it was.
"Shit," I swore, "No offense, and I really mean that, but this won't take long will it? I don't have long till sunrise and I still have to make it back home." Nines glanced back at the clock and swore as well.
"I'll make it quick, and if I get too close, you can crash with me," he said.
"Will there be chains?" I asked coyly. He grinned and leaned forward, giving me a sultry look.
"Maaaybe," he purred. I stared at him for a minute then fell forward, laughing.
"Anyway," I urged.
"Anyway," he agreed, "You got a right to know the score. The Camarilla - this is the short of it. They operate a lot like a pyramid scheme. There's a bunch of these old timers at the top, with God only knows what plots in mind. They lose their power, they die. They sired more to carry out their plans, and lookin' for a little power, then those Kindred sired for their own schemes and so on and on and on - it hurts my head just thinkin' about the mess. What it works out to is this: only a few people at the top have any real power."
"What's with LaCroix?" I asked.
"I thought you wanted me to hurry," he pointed out.
"Well now you have me curious," I said. "Plus, you promised chains and I'm intrigued." Nines smirked and passed me the bottle.
"LaCroix's just the guy who backstabbed and wheeled-and-dealed his way into becoming king son of a bitch of all the local Camarilla. Him and any o' the traitors that sided with the Cam want power here, they'll get what's due."
We sat there, drinking, as he outlined the basic politics, talking about the elders and the camarilla. I asked questions, which he answered easily. When we were done, we sat in silence again for a moment.
"Look," I began, finally, taking a swing from the bottle he offered me. He didn't seem to mind swapping spit with me anymore than Jack had. "I believe in what you're saying, but I know that this isn't going to just end with us."
"What do you mean?" he asked, scratching his chin.
"We get rid of LaCroix, push the Camerilla out and it's only a matter of time before someone comes to try and take his place," I argued.
"Then we get rid of them, too," he said, flippantly. "Freedom isn't cheap, kid."
"I know, I was just hoping that I wouldn't have to fight this battle again in sixty years," I sighed. "I didn't even want to be a vampire and now I'm thrust into the middle of a war." Nines reached across the table and took my hand.
"You won't be fighting alone," he said.
"But will we ever get peace?" I asked. Nines squeezed my hand and glanced back at the clock.
"C'mon, kid, you're crashing with me," he said.
"I have a name, you know," I said, standing with him.
"I know your name," Nines said. "Kid."
"Asshole," I growled, playfully.
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