Mia had just arrived home after killing her 3rd demon, and had gotten herself a broken hand in the process. The little bitch had possessed the wife of a business associate of hers; unfortunately she wasn’t able to save either her associate or his wife in time. She was sure this would do wonders for her already less than spotless reputation.  As soon as she got in the door she slid back against the adjacent wall and began to cry. Though she never showed her emotions in public, Mia definitely had a soft side. The past few months had really begun to wear on her. She wiped her face after a few minutes and was determined to get back at these bastards and learn as much as she possibly could about exterminating them before they literally unleashed hell on this planet. She grabbed her mail from the table, walked over to her white leather couch and sighed loudly.

At least she had managed to steal a Hand of Glory and a few other things from the house in the process, she could only assume her associate’s extensive collection was part of the reason his family was targeted. That should fetch a pretty penny, or at least come in handy sometime in the future. She figured with an impending apocalypse at their heels she could use all the protection she could get.

“Fucking demons,” she said as she casually flipped through the envelopes until she came across one that was sealed with wax and had only her first name written on it. “Curiouser and curiouser,” she mumbled to herself. She read the message quickly and then jumped to her feet. The message had referred to some information she desperately wanted to know for much of her life; the story behind her adoption and the name of her birth parents. She was very suspicious of the whole situation and the fact that someone even knew enough about her to send her this letter. She grabbed her pistol and looked around apprehensively, heart pounding and breath coming much faster now. She quickly decided she would carefully investigate this location offered, and see if there was any merit to this claim or if she could find some way to get a one up on the sender before going in blind. 

She grabbed one of her many pre-packed cases and quickly put on a short blonde wig and a casual outfit before she tossed on her black leather jacket and hid knives around her waistband then reloaded her pistols. She also refilled her water bottle from the stash of holy water in her ammunitions room, supposing that most likely she was going to be trying to skirt a trap. She had no choice but to follow this lead, however, if there was even a small chance she could find out the truth about herself. 

Taking less than half an hour to prepare, she left her house again, a feeling of sadness as she locked the door. She rarely had any down time in the past few months. With a glance back at the archway of her beautiful home she let out another sigh as she hopped in the favorite of her small fleet of vehicles, a 1964 ½ powder blue Mustang. “Fuck it,” she said as she cranked up Joan Jett and took off toward a possible discovery, or a perhaps a cluster-fuck.