Kenzie

Ten minutes earlier…

Crouched on the rooftop across the road from Chester Birmingham’s club, Kenzie grinned as she spied the two agents walk into the club, completely oblivious to the fact that she knew who they were and that they would be waiting for her. Her heightened senses meant she could hear the warlock, who was funny, by the way, give Chester some lip as he sauntered into the club, his backside looking mighty fine in his jeans.

Only a fool would miss the sexual tension between the warlock and the newbie vampire. Their bodies were rigid with a tension that was unmistakable. And it made her wonder why those two hadn’t gotten it on yet…she sure would.

But then Kenzie remembered that to the outside world, she still looked like a seventeen-year-old girl. Kenzie didn’t want a schoolboy. Her mind was that of a woman and she wanted a man.

Kenzie cast her gaze out over the rooftops, the night sky carrying with it a lick of frost that reminded her of ice skating at Christmas time with her friends. Bundled up like Eskimos, they’d set off for the ice rink, gliding around the ice without a care in the world.

Today Kenzie had strolled around the city, unable to sleep with the anticipation of Father’s arrival. Her walk took her past the Wilton shopping centre, out to Bishopstown where she bypassed the straight road before going up and around and into the suburb of Ballincollig.

Her feet had taken her to the home she’d left ten years ago. Kenzie spent most of her teenage years resenting her parents for the strict rules they inflicted on her. No out past eleven p.m. No dates during term time. No parties unless her school reports had Bs across the board. Keep up with her extra sporting activities.

Sitting on the wall opposite her old house, Kenzie witnessed a new family living in her home. The mom carried a toddler in her arms, while a small boy ran around making aeroplane noises, his arms out while he pretended he could fly. Kenzie imagined what it would be like to walk in the door and see her mom peeling potatoes by the sink, her dad reading the newspaper in an armchair by the fire, and to hear her baby brother make train noises as he imagined a world of his own.

However, that would never happen. Her family was dead and that was all down to Caitlyn Hardi and her sired vampire. They’d ripped through her house without care, without remorse, leaving a trail of bloodshed in their wake, and now Kenzie was within touching distance of her revenge and it tasted bittersweet, for revenge would not bring her family back. And what would happen to her when her vengeance had been accomplished? Would Father let her go? And how would she deal with her addiction to vampire blood?

But what Kenzie really wondered was why would Father ever let her go when she was such an effective killing machine? Who would take her place, and…could Kenzie put this burden on someone else?

Father had given clear instructions, kill Chester, don’t touch the redhead. And do not resist arrest. Caitlyn Hardi would come to her. But what Kenzie found hard to understand was why she was not to lay a finger on Caitlyn, that Caitlyn was to be brought to him.

Kenzie shut her eyes, thinking back to what Esme had sneered at her one evening, the slutty vampire drunk from her most recent donor, while Kenzie had been seconds away from taking her head. Esme liked to throw it in her face that she resembled the woman who had broken Father’s heart, thinking that by not mentioning names, Kenzie would not piece things together.

For some reason, Kenzie and the enigma that was Caitlyn Hardi had similar features. But Caitlyn was a monster, and Kenzie was not, and that was where the resemblances ended.

Esme stumbled into her path as Kenzie stormed through the Catacombs, her most recent mission a success, her scythe coated in the blood of those she killed. According to Father, the house of vampires in Malaga trafficked young teens to various locations to be used as blood slaves, a barbaric practise that Father had long been trying to eradicate.

All Kenzie wanted to do was clean her blade, soak in a hot bath, wash the death from her skin, and sleep for two days straight. But Esme blocked her path and spat on the ground.

“It’s you. That face. I want to dig my nails in and claw at your perfect face.”

The brunette, usually heard moaning and groaning while beneath, up against, or on her knees with any willing partner, took a determined step forward, only hesitating when Kenzie’s blade gleamed against the light of the torches.

“Give me an excuse, Esme. Just because I said no to you does not mean you can step up to me like this.”

“The sire said I could taste you,” Esme snarled, her words a little slurred.

“Despite the gossip, Father doesn’t own me, and my body is my own.”

All Kenzie had left in this world was her body, and she would protect it at all costs.

“If you didn’t look and act exactly like her, then maybe we could accept you more. Or perhaps the sire would have used your body and tossed you aside—if you didn’t look like that bitch.”

“I have no desire to be accepted by you lot, Esme. Now get the fuck out of my way or I’ll drop you.”

The vampire snarled and grabbed with her manicured nails, poised to lash out.

“Esme.”

The voice made them both stop as Father stepped out of the shadows, his hand going around Esme’s throat. “If Kenzie does not want to play with you, then leave her be. We do not force anyone to do something they do not wish to do in this family.”

Yeah, right, Kenzie thought as she nodded to Father, pausing when he put his other hand on her shoulder. He leaned in and pressed his lips to her cheek. Her insides heated instantly, her body aching, but he would never be with her for the exact reason Esme, Markus, and almost everyone else despised her. Kenzie reminded him of someone he wanted to forget.

Kenzie rounded the corner, then pressed herself flush against the wall, listening intently to Esme squeal as her body slammed against the wall. She knew she should be ashamed of the pleasure she got from hearing Esme yammer out excuses and apologies.

“Really, Esme. How many times must I remind you that Kenzie is off-limits? Every single vampire in this Kiss follows my rules without question, yet you disobey me on this subject every single time.”

“If the little bitch didn’t look so much like—”

Esme’s words gurgled as Kenzie imagined Father squeezing Esme’s throat so tight her eyes would bulge and her head would burst with a pop, just like a cartoon. Kenzie stifled a giggle at the image in her mind, focusing on the conversation instead.

“Esme.” His words were spoken in a low, menacing tone that implied death was charging in and would soon be upon her. “Just because you have sated my cock a few times does not mean you can speak to me in such a way. Do not forget who I am. If I wanted you dead, you would be. Remember your place, whore. And do not threaten Kenzie again. She is worth more to me than you ever will be.”

“Forgive me, my king.”

“Get on your knees, Esme.”

Kenzie’s heart sped up as she heard the sound of a zipper being opened. She couldn’t stop her mind from wondering how Father would look with Esme’s mouth around his cock as she took him all the way to the back of her throat.

What would he have done if Kenzie had dropped to her knees and reached for him?

“Kenzie. Go to your room.”

The demand, loud and clear, came from Father’s throat, and she feared he had read her mind. Kenzie bolted away from the sound of sucking and Father’s groan.

Kenzie’s eyes sprang open. It was then Kenzie realized the man who made her call him Father was two different people. On one hand, he was a vampire who bent people’s will to that of his own, and on the other, Father sent her out to destroy those who chose to become what was expected from vampires.

She had only been left free to roam when she had been sent on missions, but Kenzie had been smart enough to listen, and vampires liked to talk when they didn’t realize they were being watched. Kenzie heard different tales with her eavesdropping. And she was beginning to think Father was not all he claimed to be.

But the ends needed to justify the means. Kenzie took down vampires. In doing what Father asked of her, it would all be worth it, if only it lead to the answers she so desperately sought.

Getting up from her crouch, Kenzie backed up a couple of steps, until the heels of her feet hit the back of the roof. Arms pumping, she dashed forward, the vampire blood in her veins sending her flying off the roof, across the open sky, as close to flying as she would ever get, and she tucked herself into a ball as she hit the roof of Chester’s with an oomph.

Pumping herself full of vampire blood had some cool perks, if you overlooked the Peter Pan side effect that was. While Kenzie felt invincible, she tried to push it out of her mind that the very things she hunted were responsible for her superpowers.

Dusting the dirt off her clothes, Kenzie flipped up her hood before she slipped inside the door leading down from the roof. Darkness beckoned her forward as she slowly made her way down the stairs. When she reached the bottom step, offices surrounded her. Kenzie heard the unmistakable beat of music coming from the door facing her.

The door opened, with Kenzie hiding behind it as a vampire strode through, and then she strolled out to the sound of “Stormzy’s Cold.”

Now this is more like it, Kenzie thought. Maybe one dance wouldn’t hurt.

Her head nodded along with the track, her hands in front of her face as she bounced in the rhythm of the music. For a minute, Kenzie imaged it was back in the day, with her and Molly at some random party, bumping and grinding in some dude’s living room, all eyes on them. Closing her eyes, she could almost imagine it, almost taste the cheap beer on her tongue, smell the sweat and cologne as boys came closer, drink making them confident they would be the ones to get some one on one time with either girl.

Oh, how she longed to be free.

Cracking her eyes open, Kenzie glanced sideways at the agents in the booth facing the dance floor. From the way they were clinging to each other, she knew their actions were so much more than acting. The vampire’s fangs were out, her face visible in the mirror behind the booth, and Kenzie knew she was losing them. A few more minutes and those two would be getting down and dirty in the booth, privacy be damned.

Kenzie wondered if she would ever have someone look at her like Ricky and Melanie looked at each other, like there was no other person in the room, in the city, hell, in the universe apart from the pair of them. Scolding herself for being a sentimental fool, she scanned the room again.

At that moment, her prey stepped out into the bar area and leaned his back against the bar, his elbows resting on the marble as he scanned the floor. The vampire reminded her of those aged vampires from the movies who thought they were above all others and should be worshipped.

Showtime.

Kenzie grinned as she reached behind her back, unleashed her scythe, and snapped out her wrist, cutting off the heads of the three vampires nearest to her. Blood splashed her face and clothing, but this was nothing new to her. Screams rang in her ears as vampires dashed about, trying to escape the mean little vampire killer.

A big meaty bouncer came at her as the music stopped short. But Kenzie had faced down bigger and better than this creature. Sliding across the floor, she went straight under his legs before jumping to her feet, her faithful blade slicing through the bouncer’s neck, his head bouncing off the floor a second later. Chester shrieked, and she pinned him with a glare.

“Freeze, Buffy. You’re under arrest.”

Kenzie smirked, looking over her shoulder before turning fully to face the warlock who had a gun trained right at her. Something told her he wouldn’t miss either.

“But damn, you’re pretty,” Kenzie remarked, grinning. “We can have fun later, hot stuff. But right now, I’ve got a job to do.”

His eyes widened in surprise at her accent, and she sensed the redhead try and sneak up behind her. Now Kenzie was sandwiched in between them, and adrenaline flooded her veins.

Turning her back to the warlock, she faced the redheaded agent. Tightening her grip around the hilt of her scythe, Kenzie said, “He told me not to touch you, but I’ll kill you for fun.”

If she killed the female agent, Father would be seething, but in this moment, she didn’t care. She swung her scythe in the redheaded agent’s direction, but she was fast, ducking just as Kenzie came within inches of her head, the blade whistling through the air with her swipe.

The warlock fired a warning shot into the air, and Kenzie grinned over her shoulder. Distracted, or so they thought, the redheaded agent kicked at her knee and she went down, dropping her scythe. The blow wouldn’t have normally stopped her, but her orders were to get arrested, and now Kenzie could tick that off her bucket list.

Lips still curled into a grin, Kenzie dropped her other knee and chained her fingers together behind her head. Cool metal latched over her wrists a second later, and Kenzie could not resist. “Tie ’em a little tighter, loverboy. This could get kinky.”

Agent Hot Stuff huffed out a breath and looked at the redheaded agent. “Does that sound as strange to you as it did to me? I mean, damn, she’s the spit of her.”

The redheaded agent laughed and waved her hand. “Well, if you ever imaged our Caitlyn saying those words, then you’re a bigger fool than I thought.”

“Agents Moore and Newton, Paranormal Investigations Team.” Agent Moore lifted her handcuffed wrists over her head so they rested in front of her body. Kenzie could snap those cuffs with ease. “What’s your name, kid?”

“You can call me whatever you want, sexy,” she said with a grin as his face blanched.

“Now that’s way too fucking weird.”

Kenzie heard the vampire snarl, and she winked at her. “Ease off, vamp. I’m taking the piss.”

To Agent Moore, Kenzie said, “My name’s Kenzie Blake. Call me Kenzie, Ricky.”

She wanted them to know she knew all about them, that she had studied them. Putting as much menace in her voice as she could, Kenzie glanced down at her scythe, then up at Melanie Newton’s face. “I’ll want that back soon. And, Melanie, the only reason you are not dead right now is he wants you alive for some reason. Don’t know why. Nothing special about you.”

Melanie looked over at Ricky. “She’s lying. She knows exactly why he wants me alive.”

Kenzie shrugged and pouted her lips. “Girl’s gotta have some secrets.”

Chester came down then, grief all over his face as he peered down at his bodyguard’s withering body. He snarled at her, but a warning nudge from Melanie stopped him.

When Chester appraised her once more, Kenzie saw recognition in his eyes. “My God, she is her exact replica. There isn’t a crease on her face that isn’t identical. You can see why he chose her.” To Ricky he said, “I’m assuming Agent Hardi had no idea about this one.”

“I’m sure if she did, she wouldn’t have let her remain with that monster a minute more.”

Why the hell were they all talking about Caitlyn like she was a saint? That she would’ve ridden in on her white horse and stopped this all from happening, when it had all begun with her.

“Is she returning?”

“Should be in the air this very moment.”

“Good.” And that was all Chester said as he left them to their arrest.

Kenzie, filled with excitement to know she would soon have her family’s killer within her grasp, rocked back and forth on her feet as she blew a strand of hair from her face.

“So, you mind stopping at a drive through on the way to the station? I’m starved. I haven’t had chips and curry in ages! If I never eat another crepe again, it will be too soon.”

The two agents looked at her like she’d lost her damn mind, but Ricky wrapped his fingers around her arm, directing her up the stairs until they reached his car. He opened the back door, held her head as she ducked inside, and shook his head as she placed her feet up on the seat in front of her.

Leaning her head back as Ricky shut the door, Kenzie listened as Ricky told Melanie, “I don’t like this. I don’t like this one bit. It’s been far too easy.”

Of course it had been far too easy, she snorted as Melanie peered down at Kenzie’s bloody scythe. You’re wheeling a Trojan horse into your place of work, but I don’t need my scythe to be dangerous. I’m a weapon in deceiving skin. Be distracted by my smart mouth and the fact I look a bit like your friend. And when you least expect it, I’ll end you.

Kenzie let her eyes drift shut—she might as well sleep while they travelled to the cop shop. Despite her knowledge that Father had trained her for this moment, that everything she had seen and done had led to here and now, she couldn’t help the thoughts that were crossing her mind.

If the last ten years were building up to this moment, and everything I’ve been working for is right in front of me, then why do I have this sinking feeling in the pit of my stomach, like I’m doing something wrong?