Especially these days, when dragons owned the banks, vampires were peddling health insurance, and demons ran the strip clubs. Still, I’m not exactly hurting for work. Because no sooner do I finish putting down a wannabe necromancer than I get home to find a woman on my porch with her body tattooed in mystic runes, clutching an eldritch cube, and with a hell of a tale to tell. To make matters worse, there’s a cult after her, a wolf-girl biker wants a piece of me (in more ways than one), and the n