They called it the roaring twenties. A time of new beginnings; iron and sweat making the world a "better" place. Flapper dresses and fedoras, gangsters and nightlife. As I think back on it everything was loud and bright and alive, mixing the spice of life into our blood. It was a great time to be alive. Aliveness. Will we really miss it when it's gone? The unfortunate few, the ones whose souls no longer linger behind their eyes… They are the ones who miss it. What does it mean to be dead but still breathing?

"As of March fifteenth." Seamus grouched. "Vampires will become legalized citizens set to a code of standards, protecting human life, as well as the undead." He tossed the newspaper at me and I caught it against my chest. In 1923 word was sent out to the nation; the leeches were to be considered human. "That means any vampire kill will be investigated and treated as a murder." He pointed out.

"We're out of business." I muttered and then sighed. Seamus looked at me with his midnight eyes and I quirked my brow at his bemused expression. "Well, what? There won't be much use for a posse of vampire hunters if the buyers face murder charges."

"We could sell to a different crowd." He offered. "No more old ninnies crying about poor Mister Jingles being sucked dry by the neighborhood leech." He said. "Now my darling Ghanima we can sell to a more refined set of buyers."

"I'm not lynchin' leeches for the mob, brother mine." I said, sighing. "One of the rules of life: "Don't mess with the mob." He chuckled and I smiled at the deep sound filling the hollow space of our kitchen. The apartment was dismal especially since, between our business and our parents' deaths ten years prior, we were filthy rich. However the space was convenient and didn't stick in too many memories unlike a castle or mansion. "We are getting on in years anyway." I said and he rolled his eyes.

"Oh yes," he drawled, "us elves and our thirties!" He shook his head. "Now-a-days Ghani one hundred is the new thirty." It wasn't as if he really needed to tell me. You could hardly find humans in the thick of other creatures that had started popping up after the eighteen hundreds. Before then elves, vampires, various were-animals, and the like were few and far between, at least that seemed to be what those races chose to let people believe. It wasn't really a secret that we were alive, we just kept to ourselves. One of the side effects however was interbreeding. Humanity was lasting longer and longer.

"Still haven't you ever wanted to do something else? Something less bloody?" I asked looking at Seamus with a sudden seriousness. He made an irritated gurgle and pressed on. "I mean come on! We've been doing this all of our lives!"

He nodded annoyed. "Yes I know." He said, his dark brows drawing down. "And we are good at it." That seemed to be enough for him. "I'll start going through our connections. See who is moving upward or onward." It was my turn to make a frustrated noise. "Come on Ghani." He wheedled. "I need you chicky." His smile was charming and inviting and could melt the backbones of any woman. Luckily as his sister I was completely immune.

"Go jump on spikes, Seamus." I said grinning crookedly and he took that as an affirmative. I almost wish I had the heart to correct him. "What about that job we had planned for this weekend?"

"Oh…" He looked up from a little leather address book. "Still on." He said. "I'm not letting a little law like "humanization codes" get in my way." He snickered. "It's because of that Count… What is his name?"

"Henry." I said bored. "Imbollin Henry."

"Yeah, Count Henry." He said. "From Paris right? He's been working to be legalized since 1810."

"I know just as well as you Shaw." I said getting up to pour sour smelling coffee into a chipped up mug. The greasy looking linoleum squeaked under the heel of Seamus' shoes and I rolled my eyes. Mighty vampire hunter and he couldn't even get his shoes to be quiet? I wondered if he even tried while we were at home. "I guess money talks even when you're dead." I took a sip only to spit the lukewarm watered down brew back into the waiting mug. "Shaw…" I hissed and he looked at me sheepishly, his childhood name taking the sting from my words. I dumped out the pot and went about making another. "What kind of man makes weak coffee?" I said dramatically. "I'll never marry you off to a pretty girl and be rid of you."

He chuckled at my exaggerated sigh and picked up the phone. I quietly listened to the voice on the other side, my hearing picking out the conversation with uncanny accuracy. Seamus took on his good-ole-boy persona as he talked to the man I recognized as our middle man in Belfast. The sounds of London downtown threatened to drown out the call from the street below our flat and I went back to flop onto the threadbare couch. "Right," I heard the last of Seamus' conversation. "We are still talking to full twenty?" A jovial chuckle escaped him and he nodded into the phone. "Good, very good."

"This doesn't seem worth twenty." I muttered, cold and bored sitting outside The Royal Victoria Hall, waiting for our tag. Seamus was shifting next to me in a tuxedo worthy of our wealth. So was I though, and I thought I looked much better in it. I had refused to go on his arm in a dress. I couldn't run in heels and I couldn't wear my gear belt, and that was the important part. It had three silver cylinders on it, only about four inches long. With a flick of my wrist however they extended another few inches and became as sharp as needles. All the gear I had ever needed for a vampire killing.

Seamus had told me to pack light but deadly and told me that this one was a big one. "She's nearly three hundred years old and all you brought were your wands?" He griped at me and I gave him a harsh glare.

"You told me to pack light." I answered lightly, lowering my voice just to bother him.

He looked at me and narrowed his eyes. "You would have looked better in the dress." He pointed out in a depressed tone.

"So would have you." I countered.