My name is Lydia Chloe Cross and my story technically starts out with my mom holding a small baby in her arms while my father was nowhere to be found. The only male "father" figure I ever had in my life was my "uncle" Gabriel, who I later found out was the actual archangel Gabriel himself. Anyway, my real story starts when I found out that I was some messed up angel/demon/human hybrid and my mother was brutally killed in our house on my 18th birthday.

After my mother was killed I did what any sane person would do, hunt down whatever killed her because I knew for a fact that it wasn't a normal human being. For years I spent my time training myself and preparing myself to fight whatever killed her by hunting other supernatural beings such as vampires, werewolves and spirits. I always kept in my mind that whatever killed my mother would pay.

~Present day~

I gripped my side tightly as I ran down a dimly lit alleyway towards my black 1967 Chevy Camaro SS. Blood dripped faster the faster I ran through my fingers from a huge gash in my side. The werewolf hunt I had been on had gone all kinds of bad. As I approached my car I fumbled with my keys.

I popped the door open with a slight groan and slide in. Pain shot throughout my side as I started the car. I tightly shut my eyes and put both hands on my wound. There was a bright light and when I opened my eyes once again there wasn't even a scratch where the wound had been seconds later. A small smile spread across my mouth as the car roared. Next stop, Wichita, Kansas.