Mitry and Weni Read Free Page A

and fell to her knees. What happened then made her curious. She watched the injured woman’s teeth elongate and then she sunk her fangs into the neck of the bald, handsome man who lifted her up into his arms.
    The most amazing thing had been when the woman’s injury healed and then both she and her male partner dove back into the melee to fight until all those shadows were particles of ash floating on the gentle breeze, which thankfully had been blowing toward her instead of away from her. She had a feeling if the wind had been blowing the other way she would have been discovered.
    As fast as they appeared, they disappeared again and though she wished they had hung around so she could speak to them and maybe join their little group, Krysta knew she was better off working alone.
    She’d never been a people person and often got annoyed easily by the stupidity of some people. Krysta had learned to love her own company and became decidedly agitated when surrounded by others, except for a select few. Maybe that was because her mother had been an alcoholic and a drug addict. Her mother had died when she was young and she'd taken to the streets. She had no idea who her father was since her mom had never mentioned him. She'd often wondered if he knew she existed, but doubted it. Her mom had spent most of her time in drug and alcoholic stupors, and though Krysta had tried to find out who the man was that had donated sperm to create her, there had been no name on her birth certificate.
    She’d been at a loss when her friend had disappeared, and that was when Giovanni had found her. At the time, she hadn’t realized how standoffish she was, but it hadn’t seemed to faze the older Italian man. She’d become the person she was today because of her childhood, or lack thereof, and she wasn’t about to lament about it. She didn’t need to rely on anyone. She only answered to herself.
    Krysta was strong and independent, and didn’t need or want to rely on another human being, not ever, because she always ended up all alone again. She had her books to keep her mind occupied as well as her little hobby when she had any spare cash and time to help out.
    None of the homeless people she fed ever saw the real person she kept hidden under her silent reticent persona. Plus, she always snuck into the abandoned warehouses with the food and blankets, making sure to stay quiet until she was on her way out. The people squatting in the abandoned buildings had learned that the three bangs on the walls as she was leaving meant that they could fill their bellies with a good meal and cover their cold bodies with a clean blanket.
    She’d been where they were once and knew what it was like to go without. To be so hungry and cold and wonder if it wouldn’t be better to just die, but she’d never given in. For that she was thankful, because now her life had a purpose. To rid the world of the evil that roamed the night seeking to destroy the innocent.
    Krysta pushed her introspection aside and glanced at the clock on the wall of her tiny kitchen. It was just after midnight and time for her to get her ass into gear. She hurried to her bedroom, stripping the robe and sleep shirt from her body before donning comfortable worn black jeans and a soft cotton T-shirt. After pulling her black boots on she entered the bathroom, brushed her red hair, braided it, and walked back into her bedroom. She grabbed the black beanie from the side table and pulled it over her head, tucking any stray strands of hair up into the stretchy hat.
    Once she checked herself in the mirror to make sure none of her hair was showing, she moved to the kitchen, grabbed her cell phone, made sure it was on silent mode, and shoved it into her pocket. She swiped her keys from the counter, grasped hold of the sword handle, and headed out.
    She was going hunting and hoped that she didn’t encounter too many of the evil shadows in one group, but she had a feeling that she would. Those evil