Ex-cop. Graduate of the Magic Academy. Mage.

I used to carry a badge for the NYPD. Now I carry wards stitched into my coat and a pistol loaded with rounds nobody admits exist.

My old partner calls me to the High Line for a triple homicide. Three bodies. Chests crushed. Claw marks cut too deep to blame on a pit bull. Magic residue clings to the concrete. Somebody wanted the city to notice.

The moment I say yes, Manhattan’s hidden world starts circling.

European vampires who ignore local blood laws. Hunters with military toys and murder on their checklist. A corporate faction called Zilra writing paychecks in the dark. SENSE, federal occult enforcement, watching me like they’re taking notes for my obituary.

And then the women show up, because of course they do.

Nari Song lives next door and runs a K-Pop dance studio. She looks cute enough to sell you a smoothie and steal your wallet. She also happens to be a five-hundred-year-old gumiho with nine tails, fox-fire, fast enough you’d think she can teleport, and a possessive streak she calls “protective.” She calls me jagiya like it’s already settled.

Lieutenant Sarah Kim is my SENSE handler and former partner. She does not flirt. She does not play nice. She does keep my license alive by bending rules until they squeal.

So, yeah. Monsters, gunfights, magic, banter, and the kind of women who make a sane man rethink the value of peace and quiet.

Turn the page. I promise it gets worse.