Crowed (Team Zero #2) - Rina Kent Page 0,62

flakes of snow cling to the side of my neck, face, and all fibres of clothing as I walk down a dark, filthy street. I chose the city’s most abandoned alleys on purpose. This time of the year suits me the best. Long cold nights, fewer people roam the back alleys, and more idiots screw up.

Changing the suit with my hood liberates me. Blood isn’t my aim tonight – not that I’m allowed to kill after a recent target. However, I still hope to spot someone messing up so I can play their Grim Reaper.

A muffled scream shatters the calmness. I stop in my tracks.

Thank you, gates of hell, for answering my prayers.

I sprint through the shadows, edging nearer to the source of the scream. The closer I’m, the louder the moans and grunts. My hand itches for the knife in my waistband. My thoughts cloud with options to extract life.

I halt by an abandoned building. A few metres away, a bulky short male is forcing a brunette onto the ground, head first, and manoeuvres himself over her arse. His gaze dips to her naked behind. One hand covers her mouth, the other fumbles with his belt.

The woman’s muted cry slips between his fingers. When he thrusts into her, I grin. That, an idiot screwing up, is what’s been missing from my day. I can’t deny myself the pleasure when the opportunity arises.

The brunette has to be knocked out. Her meddling and crying would hinder me.

Subduing him would be...well, boring. While this may not appear like an alluring kill, it’s still blood to spill.

My hand curls around the knife as I glance around, looking for witnesses. The alley is as clear as the desert.

I stalk towards them. Neither of them notices me.

When I lift my hand to strike, the woman bites the man’s hand. “I told you to wait until we got home!” Her finger guides his to her front. “Oh, yes! Yes! Right there, Mark.”

Dammit.

He wasn’t raping her. Or at least, not in the way that gives me a reason to finish his life.

I pivot on my heels and retreat to the shadows.

My fingers press tighter against the knife. I can lie to my cousin and claim I acted upon a misunderstanding. Anyone would’ve mistaken it as rape. Only I had far too many misunderstandings in the past for Tristan to let this pass unnoticed.

Which leaves me with the alternative of hiding this. Finish the couple and clean the scene solo. No report. No explanations.

The downside is that cleaning irks me. So much work and little to no thrill. That’s why I have Kane and his team for such tasks.

These two aren’t worth inducing Tristan’s wrath.

I back away, put the knife back in its sheath, and take the opposite direction.

‘No, go back there! Kill them both.’

The volume of the maddening voices echo louder in my head, demanding the blood they were promised.

Fuck you, gates of hell, for screwing me further into the abyss of chaos.

A small dog with pink ribbons around its neck rushes towards me. I stop at an intersection of two tight, uninhabited alleyways. The little thing erupts in crazed barks.

Could the animal sense my demons?

Doesn’t matter. Killing a dog isn’t a priority.

‘Neither is cleaning and yet you ruined it.’ There was a tinge of rage in Father’s voice.

Shut up.

“Melanie!”

The feminine voice reaches me before its owner collides into my chest. I hold my position as a girl, wearing a long coat the same colour as the dog’s ribbons, stumbles and falls on her arse.

“Ouch!”

With the grace of an athlete, she rises to her feet. “What were you—” The girl cuts off when she meets my stare.

Under the dim street lights, her skin appears too pale to be real. Or is it because of the light? With a round petite face, an odd shade of grey-blonde hair, held in a long ponytail, and wide blue eyes, she can pass for a porcelain doll.

A loud beauty. The kind you’d spot right away amongst a crowd. It’s like the redness of blood against white surfaces.

The unrelenting gaze of her intense, blue eyes is like a bottomless ocean. Diving, drowning, I stare back — fascination gripping me by the gut.

From her stiffening posture, I can tell she doesn’t like me. Yet, her gaze sparkles with determination, as if she’s trying to figure me out.

Foolish.

If she only knew what resides in my head. I can spend days watching blood flow from her every pore, with those enthralling eyes staring at me.

No. She’s way off the charts, and my one-way ticket to the asylum if I attempt to squeeze the life out of her compelling body.

The girl lowers her head and takes a deep breath. “You bumped into me. You’re supposed to apologise.”

Her wide eyes and shaky whisper sends a jolt down my spine. Throbbing veins under her translucent skin desperately call for my knife.

‘Her blood will be a great addition to our collection,’ Aunt hums. ‘We can use more female targets.’

‘Stop.’ Mother makes her first appearance in three days, her voice detached but soft. ‘She’s an innocent girl.’

“You better disappear from my sight,” I say, tone steady and low.

The girl’s mouth opens, as if to speak, then quickly closes. Her fingers are unsteady as she hunches down to scoop the dog off the ground. With a sharp breath, she backs away, never taking her attention off me.

She shouldn’t do that.

Showing fear entices me. Morbidly so. It gives my monsters reasons to stir and plan an ugly end.

Still walking backwards, the girl picks up her pace, turns, and dashes in the opposite direction.

‘Follow her.’

‘You already denied us a kill.’

‘Can you afford to disobey us twice in one night?’

‘Madness will be waiting.’

Father and Aunt speak at the same time, their voices intertwining, rising, rambling. I hate it when they do that. If I don’t give them what they want, I’ll be denied of sleep tonight.

Fuck it.

I inspect my surroundings before scurrying to the path the girl took. With composed steps, I sneak through shadows and catch up with her in a few minutes.

Her heels slow her escape. Their clanks interrupt the calm night and mask my already hushed footsteps.

The girl stumbles a few times, but not once does she look sideways or behind her.

A few streets later, she stops in front of a two-storey house in an elegant street lit by two yellow lamps.

Chest heaving, one of her hands clutches the dog and the other fumbles in her pocket. A key falls from her trembling hand, twice, before she jiggles it into the lock.

So, this is where she lives. It’s like a house out of ‘Cosy Family Homes’ program.

Interesting.

No. Not interesting. None of this is supposed to be bloody interesting. She’s by no means a target, nor someone I can use in my plans. Therefore, she’s of no value. Full stop.

And yet, my feet are glued to the ground behind the corner, opposing her house. Close enough to see the tremor in her fingers, but too dark for her to perceive me.

A middle-aged woman emerges at the doorway. The girl jumps.

“Mae! Where have you been?”

A faint smiled appears on the girl’s plump lips. She leans to press a kiss on the woman’s cheek. “I’m sorry, Mum. I got caught with Sydney. You know how she gets.”

“Your father and I were worried about you. We called you several times but...” I stop paying attention to the woman’s words and follow the girl’s field of vision. Her squinted gaze falls on the spot where I lurk. She stares at my hideout as if she could see me. Or right through me for that matter.

After several long seconds, the girl frowns and follows her mother inside.

I stand rooted for a minute, picturing blood flowing out of that pale skin of hers. So red. So metallic. I can almost smell it.

“Mae...” I whisper to the dark walls surrounding me.

A girl who would never fit as a target, which makes her even more tempting.

The poor, poor girl. She should never have stirred my attention.

Tonight, Mae has invited monsters to play.