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"I'm going where?" I demanded of my father, who'd just informed me that I have a new assignment. Apparently, The Council had specifically asked for me.

"You're going to France," he sighed. Having to repeat himself was one of his biggest pet peeves. "Don't gripe. France is beautiful this time of year."

I growled a little as I flung myself into the overly large and overplush leather chair in Dad's office, sinking into it. I let myself be sucked into the super comfortable piece of furniture. "I had plans. I was going to relax here for a while, maybe do some shopping, definitely do a lot of sleeping. I just finished a job. Why do I have to go on another one so soon?" I sounded petulant. I didn't care.

"Oh, stop whining," Dad snapped. "They specifically asked for you. Maybe once you get this job done, you'll be able to take in some sights and do a little shopping." He steepled the fingers of both hands in front of his face. "They know you're the best in your age group. If I were you, I'd feel flattered, honored even, that they did ask for you. Instead, you're behaving as a petulant child."

"Age group? Is this guy going after young women or something?" I narrowed my eyes at my father. There was nothing I disliked more than someone speaking down to me. At his nod, I continued, "Fine, I'll go. I'm taking the black card, though."

He scowled. "I knew you were going to say that. Fine. It's yours for the duration of your trip. You'll leave here tomorrow morning, five sharp. The jet is leaving at five thirty." He handed me a manila envelope as I rose to my feet.

Snagging the proffered paperwork from my father's hand, I scampered out of his office and headed to my room on the second floor of the house, passing the many various statues my father collected. They gave me nightmares as a child and I still thought they were grotesque and disfigured. My father's house is huge, and I mean ginormous. People often call it a castle, no joke. It has three wings; a living wing - where the living rooms, kitchen, dining and other rooms like the offices are, the housing wing - that one has all the bedrooms with en suite bathrooms, a laundry room and a media room and the fun wing - which has a couple game rooms, several training rooms and the weapons rooms. It even has turrets on the corners of the roof. The house sits on roughly one hundred and fifty acres of private island property in the Atlantic Ocean. We call it simply Kinkaid Island. My great-great-grandfather bought the island so the family could train and have the utmost privacy one could get. My grandfather built the airport, thankfully - I'd hate to take a boat to France. The whole of Europe would be lost, squandered by whichever vile creature I would be hunting down before I even arrived to port. Nobody wanted that.

The people on the mainland often stare at me when I go shopping, which is why I like to do most of my shopping online. It's almost ridiculous at times how people are intimidated by my family. My name is Camille Kinkaid and I come from a long line of monster hunters. Yes, I'm serious. I'm not sure when exactly my family became hunters, but we can trace it as far back as the 1500s - and it probably goes back even further, but that's where written records begin. We begin our training when we turn thirteen. I decided to get a jump start on things and began martial arts training when I was seven. And, yes, the legends are all true. Witches, werewolves, the fae, vampires, wendigos, skinwalkers, demons, all of it. They all exist. No, we aren't delusional. At least, not all the time.

When I got into my bedroom, I pulled out the assignment information my father gave me. As I perused it, I discovered that I was being summoned to hunt a vampire. This particular vampire was making Paris his own personal hunting ground. At least it was somewhere civilized with lots of people. My last assignment took me to a tiny village, literally in the middle of nowhere. I'd been hunting a Pishtaco - that's a South American vampire, not some kind of weird South American food. So I was ecstatic about Paris, but I'd never let my father know. He wouldn't give me his card if he thought I wasn't going to pout the whole trip. Oh, who am I kidding? Being the only girl in a sea of strong men, I'm spoiled rotten out of the four of us kids. I'll always get what I want with my father, and my brothers, too. I'm the baby of the family. I briefly wondered where my three brothers had been sent and what they were hunting before quickly refocusing in my reading material.

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