Read My Heart be Damned for Free Online

made me learn the history and mythology of the monsters I was born to Hunt. Their strengths. Their weaknesses.
    I did know the Damned’s main weakness was that they couldn’t lie. They couldn’t deny what they were. It had something to do with the way the Damned soul meshed with the host; I never actually paid much attention to that part.
    When a soul from Hell had escaped into a cemetery somewhere – could be this one – it waited, buzzing around until it sensed a host with a soul already doomed for Hell. Moreover, the host had to be a genetic match for them too. Same gender, same blood type. That kind of thing. The most important quality in a host? They had to already been destined to go to Hell.
    Once a Damned possessed someone that meant that person’s own soul was trapped within his or her body, yet controlled by something else. In addition, the Damned had abilities to match my own: super strength, accelerated hearing, good reflexes, enhanced hearing, and sight. And the intent to use all of that for selfish gain.
    In a way, I couldn’t blame these souls from wanting out of Hell. The way Mum had always told it, those who sinned with selfish intent were sent to the darkest parts of Hell, tortured over and over…
    Something moved in the corner of my eye, and I startled out of my thoughts, nearly slipping from the branch. I squinted through the darkness at a large man shoveling dirt from a huge hole he was digging in front of an old gravestone.
    I was torn.
    Instinct and duty demanded I go down and stop whatever he was doing. The man was clearly Damned, and I should send his soul back to Hell.
    Stubbornness and grief told me to stay put. It was none of my business anymore. Other Hunters could deal with this.
    My fingers twitched. Digging up bones never meant anything good. I buried my head in my arms and bit down on my knee. My leg shook, and just when I thought I couldn’t possibly contain my urge to intervene another second, a commotion erupted below me.
    My lovely, old caretaker had brought two community support officers along, in bright yellow coats. Probably in case I showed up again. I almost laughed when I imagined the shock the caretaker must have felt to find a creepy man digging a grave, instead of a teenage girl breaking into a crypt. After some back and forth shouting, the gravedigger grabbed a tattered bag and took off towards the fence, which he jumped easily.
    I waited five minutes for the caretaker and officers to walk away before dropping to the ground in a crouch. My whole body was wired , still hyped up for a fight that never happened. Instead of hunting down the grave robber, I slipped my earphones in and burned the energy running home. I wasn’t a Hunter anymore.
     

Chapter Five

    Wrong Impressions
     
     
     
     
    “Sweetie, wake up.”
    My mother loomed over me; her green eyes a stark contrast to the dark room. I stretched and blinked, until my eyes didn’t want to remain closed anymore.
    “I need to show you something,” she said.
    She helped me dress into warm clothes and told me to keep quiet as we snuck out of the house into the deep, dark, night. She strapped me in our car, kissing my forehead, my nose, and my cheeks. She didn’t stop driving until we got to a graveyard. I’d never been to a graveyard before.
    My eyes widened as Mum helped me from the car.
    “Mummy? Why are we here?” I asked, yawning loudly.
    She slapped a hand over my mouth. “We have to be quiet, baby. I have to show you something. I have to show you what you were born to do.”
    There was a gap in the fence, and we climbed through it easily. I watched my mother as we crept through the eerie graveyard. I thought that she was so much more graceful than I was. Her shoulders were tense, and her feet made no noise as we walked. Finally, we stopped.
    “Do you remember the story I would tell you at night?” Her voice was frantic and low. Her eyes darted from side to side.
    “About the Hunters who send bad guys