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When I found out vampires were real, everything changed.
And yet, strangely, it has all stayed the same, too.
I still work for a secret metaphysical branch of the FBI. Although, thanks to being thrown around like a rag doll on my last case, I'm currently on medical leave. A small mercy given how much personal baggage I have to unload at the moment.
The fallout from the last case didn’t stop at bodily injury. It went much further than that, cracking the foundation of my life and my career in one fell swoop.
Supernatural serial killers are a pain in the ass like that.
I just want to rest and pretend: Pretend I'm not psychic, pretend my bloodline has nothing at all to do with vampires, pretend I'm going to get a happily ever after life. But when a team of serial killers (yeah, apparently killing is a team sport now) hits my hometown, I have to step in.
No, really. It has to be me. No one else knows about the vampires and werefey fighting a shadow war right under everyone's noses, and it turns out these serial killers might be involved in the latest supernatural scuffle.
On top of that, I've got boyfriend troubles like you would not believe, I'm bonded to the world's most annoying vampire, and my DNA is suddenly a hot commodity among vampires—as in, everyone wants a piece of me, the Eternal Child.
So much for pretending. I have all the wrong karma sometimes.