Kindred (Kindred, Book 1) (2 page)

Still, I haven't honed my skills over the past two years without arming myself with more than one weapon. I shifted slightly to my right, casually slipping my left arm into my belt at the top of my skirt, all the while making full eye contact with fang-face.

“You seem awfully sure of yourself. What makes you think this isn't some kind of a trap?” I hedged, all the while watching him stalk ever closer; so slow, so predatory, so sure.

He glanced over his shoulder quickly at that though, I must have managed to ruffle his feathers, or cape. It was enough of a distraction to slip my little silver knife out of its sheath at my waist and hide it behind my wrist and arm.

“I don't think so, Hunter. You work alone. I know a lot about you, you could say, your name is on the most wanted list with my kind. An all-points bulletin. We even study your moves.”

Huh? It was just one of those nights for surprises I guess. I didn't know I was that popular amongst the otherworldly nasties, but there you go.

“It's always nice to be recognised for my efforts,” I replied, whilst lying perfectly still and taking small shallow breaths to ease the pain. It was just a constant ache now, no longer that sharp stabbing pain, as though a rib was about to pierce the side of my skin.

He noticed of course, they always do when you're injured. Something about the predator in them. They sense the weak, they sniff out the pain to use it against you. I'd have to time this just right. One shot and one shot only.

There's one thing you can count on when it comes to vamps though, they're arrogant sons of bitches. He may know all my moves, or thinks he does, but he wouldn't believe for a moment that I could succeed in using them on him, could succeed in getting the drop on him, if you will. I'm betting he'd be wrong there. Pride before a fall and all that.

He leaned over me, fangs obvious in the glint of the moon streaking down the alley above us. There was a fat drop of blood hanging off the right one, threatening to spill on my shirt. He'd either bitten himself accidentally, or more likely, he did manage to get fang to neck on the now unconscious blonde in a pile over by the dumpster. Bastard!

“I'm going to enjoy teaching you a lesson, Hunter,” he whispered as he moved in for the strike.

“
That's what they all say,” I countered as my arm arced gracefully across the front of him. I knew I couldn't get the heart from the angle I was at. That wasn't what I was aiming for, but that pretty face of his would certainly feel the silver as it sliced into his cheek.

A howl rent the night air. An excruciating sound of anger and guttural, visceral pain. He sprang back against the far wall, with his hand covering the slash from his left ear to mouth, already healing, despite the silver of the knife. It takes a lot to permanently damage a creature of the night.

I used the distraction and distance to get to my feet, not as ladylike as I would have liked, but hey, no one was watching. Well no one who mattered. Old sweetie pie hadn't taken his eyes off me for a second. They can be very focused when they need to be.

“
You shall pay for that!” he spat. “I've been holding back, toying with you, but no longer, Hunter. The game is up.”

Indeed, it was. We began slowly circling each other, me with my, now somewhat pitiful slender silver knife, him with his fangs which only seemed to be getting bigger and longer the more I looked at them.
Oh what big teeth you've got
, I thought bizarrely. Losing it now was not an option. Luckily for me, since my first encounter with a vampire, my strength at resisting their spell-binding gaze had increased. To such a point that only the rare higher level master vamp had any effect on me. This guy, was only a level four on the
Sanguis Vitam
scale, strong, but not strong enough. So, I could look him in the eye when I said, “Right back at ya, Sweetie”. And then forced a grin.

I've always felt confidence in a retort could only be achieved when making direct eye contact, somehow the effect is lost when you have to look at your shoes.

He came at me in a flash. I was expecting it, but still, they can move and you don't even see it. Especially when they want to and this chap had had it with me. Anger poured off his skin in waves. I only just managed to raise the knife enough to glance the sleeve of his shirt and knick the skin ever so slightly. I might as well have been a mosquito for all the good it did. But, his arm crashed against the side of my face, throwing my head and body around and against the hard and unforgiving brick wall. I tasted blood and felt my vision blur again, but the hit hadn't been a direct hand punch, thankfully.

I used the momentum of springing back off that solid mass of brick and concrete to roll away and under his approaching bulk, sweeping out my leg as I passed him. It only made him stumble, but still... go me!

He rounded on me in that lightning speed. But I rolled to the left, closer to the entrance of the alley, making what would have been a killer blow, into a somewhat lesser one. Pain in my back erupted like a burst balloon, shooting up my spine into the base of my head. I thought my back would snap, it was so bad. Tears started rolling down my face, my fingers tingled and then went numb. Now, I was mad.

I rounded to face my killer. No way was I going down without a fight. He grinned; a typical evil bad guy grin, all teeth and smirk. He hardly had a scratch on him. Some reputation I've got. I took a step back, towards the entrance and light, towards the safety of a crowd. He cocked his head as though to say,
you think you can make it?

I couldn't and we both knew it, but I could reach my stake. I moved, right before he flew through the air towards me. I rolled head over heels, transferring my knife to my left hand and picking up my stake with my right, as I sailed over it. All those hours play-fighting with my best mate Rick's shape shifter Hapū was paying off. I landed in a crouch, half twisted towards him. It wasn't perfect, but it would have to do. His arms came out around me, his head and face over my left shoulder, he grabbed my hair and jerked my head to the right, lifting me off my feet. I felt a few hairs come loose and my back was screaming for release, but his hold was slack, not crushing. Stupid. Never lower your guard.

I twisted with the pull of my neck, not resisting it. I brought my right arm across my chest and up under my left armpit, directly towards his chest. The angle wasn't great, but it was close enough. As soon as he felt the silver of the stake breach his skin and enter his chest wall, he froze. I took my advantage and pushed the baby home.

There was a sickening squelching sound as the stake slid further in, resting on the edge of his heart. His arms fell away, no longer responding to his commands and he crumpled backwards towards the ground. I went with him, twisting round to face him completely, not letting my grip on the stake release, or the stake move anywhere but further in. Lying on top of him, looking into those red-rimmed glowing eyes, I twisted the stake minutely, feeling the moment it touched the chamber of his heart.

His eyes widened slightly, a look of utter incredulity on them. I smiled and said, “Night, night, Sweetie” as the stake finally sunk home. For an instant, nothing happened and then I was face first in a pile of dust, coughing and choking on vampire residue.

I rolled away, grasping my side, trying to stop the racking coughing from tearing my already tender ribs further apart. Finally after several minutes, I managed to control myself and slowly sat up.

It took a moment for me to get my bearings. There was still a low level humming in my mind, the last of the vamp's
Sanguis Vitam
seeping into the night, but there was no other indication of power in the vicinity. I took as deep a breath as I could manage, then hauled myself over to the blonde.

She was coming round, groaning. There was a slight mark on her neck, not deep, he hadn't managed to fully penetrate. Thank God. “You'll be all right now,” I said. She opened her eyes and looked at me.

“Who the hell are you?” she demanded, speech a little slurred.

See, here's the thing. When a vamp glazes you with his gaze, he can have you thinking any number of things. Hell, he could make you jump off the Harbour Bridge if he wanted to, but most of the time, they're not that inventive. It's usually a vision of utter happiness, if they're kind, or in Sweetie Pie's case, a feeling that you're drunk and just having a quiet moment in the alley to yourself. Waking up and finding a dishevelled female leaning over you is not the most pleasant of visions, even if you think you're smashed.

I pulled back. “There's a taxi stand down the street by McDonald's,” I said, indicating the direction with a nod of my head. “You fell over, must have been a good night, huh?”

She struggled to her feet, still glaring at me, but started to take a shaky step away. I wanted to reach out and help, but vampire induced psychosis is not something you can easily get involved with. The glazing just doesn't allow it. She'd be all right though, no real harm done.

Me, on the other hand, I ached. From head to toe. I haven't been that badly beaten up for months. This was going to take some getting over.

I dusted down my skirt and straightened my blouse. No rips, cool. And was just reaching for my stake and knife when I heard the humming and felt the low level power of a baby vamp nearby. Only young, less than 50 I'd say. Easy on any ordinary night, but tonight was shaping up to be unusual. You never knew.

I spun around to face it, stake out and knife ready to go. Shane Smith walked round the corner of the alley and stood ten metres away. He smiled his shy smile and thrust his hands deep into his pockets. His shock of white curly hair caught the glint of a street light, his pale features in contrast to his black attire, regular wear for members of Michel's inner circle.

“
Hey Shane,” I said as I sheathed my knife and pocketed my stake. “What's up?”

Shane had been turned no less than thirty years ago, by none other than Michel Durand, the Master Vampire of Auckland City. He was now serving his time as Michel's gopher, the vamp who took messages and parcels where they needed to go. He was a weakling, as far as vamps go and always would be. But I liked him, I couldn't help it. I felt sorry for the guy. Who knew you had to give up your soul
and
live for ever like a doormat when offered life for eternity. He was a sorry excuse for a vampire, but he meant no one any harm.

“
The Master wishes to see you,” he said with a small tentative smile.

I sighed. “Now Michel knows I'm not one of his puppets to order around, so why don't you just go and tell your
Master
that I'm kind of busy tonight.”

“
Aww, come on, Luce! Ya know I can't return to him without ya, he'd have me for dinner, he would.”

Unfortunately, as melodramatic as that sounded, he would. Michel might be one of the nice guys, but he was a Master Vampire in charge of a city, albeit a city in the antipodes, he had to be strong and ruthless when it counted. I had no doubt Shane would clob it for my refusal to
attend
.

Another sigh and another subconscious flattening of my skirt and shirt. “OK, let's go see the Master,” I said as I strode past him into the night.

Michel owns a number of night clubs and bars throughout the city. All the Masters of Cities throughout the world seem to be into the same business. I guess it's easy to conduct your affairs from an establishment that only gets going after it's dark. The one Shane led me to this evening was called
Sensations.
If I didn't know it was vampire owned, I'd have liked it. It had a certain charm and was very subtle in its overtures towards the night life. And I'm not talking your average club scene either. Some of the bars around, even ones Michel owns, are a bit camp, to say the least. It's a surprise vampires aren't out of the coffin yet, everyone seems to be into fang right now.

Fantasy at it's best. Unfortunately, I know better.

Sensations
was just off K Road; Karangahape Road to those from out of town. But not down the red light end of the street, up near Queen Street and the more reputable establishments. It had an ornate plastered concrete façade painted in black, with large double sided dark wooden doors. The windows were all blacked out and the overall effect, far from being too dark and foreboding, actually gave off the appearance of sophisticated chic.

There was always a bouncer on the front door, tonight it was Bruno. Yeah, clichéd I know, but that's his name, has been since well before the Napoleonic Wars. He wasn't one of our allies, that was for sure, I somehow doubted that he was even one now. All muscles and broad shoulders, he was an impressive sight. Of course, that's the point of a bouncer, isn't it? To intimidate, but to also look damn fine in their tight fitting black jeans and tee. Bruno wore it well.

He nodded to us both as we passed the queue to get in and turned to open the door. “Lucinda Monk, long time no see.” His sharp eyes made a slow graceful trip from my head to my toes, then back up again. “Good to see you.”

His smile didn't fool me though, Bruno wasn't one I'd like to meet alone in an alley. Not exactly a bad guy, but not OK either. I never put my back to Bruno if I could help it.

“Yeah right, Bruno. Wish I could say the same.”