Let's go back to the night I turned 13, the night Grandpa filleted my finger with his cane sword. I can't say what terrified me more, the cold anger in his eyes or the crazy things in his locked study. A talking trunk. Squirming coats. A bookshelf whose titles shifted before my eyes. And one chilling title in particular: Book of Souls. Ten years later I'm on my way to a Romanian monastery, in search of that lost book. But I'm not the only one. Three others have beaten me to the local village: two researchers and...
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Show me an amateur conjurer, and I'll stop him before he gets himself killed. That's the idea, anyway. But New York City isn't what it used to be, and I don't mean the recent crash. Amateur casters are calling up creatures they shouldn't be able to. And there's been a murder at the city's most hallowed cathedral, a message in blood on the victim's back the NYPD wants me to interpret, like yesterday.
Everson Croft here, professor of mythology and nervous as sin. Tonight's the night I tell Caroline the truth: about my feelings, my magic, everything. So why am I surprised when Detective Vega calls me to a new case? An elusive creature is chewing up residents in a housing project run by rival gangs. One more mangled body and the place will explode into warfare. Problem is, someone's protecting the killer.