Prologue
A chilling wind swept through the empty streets of New York as a cleaning crew stumbled upon a gruesome scene in an abandoned warehouse: a headless body drained of every drop of blood. Medical tubing and IV bags were strewn about, evidence of a macabre procedure that defied the usual vampiric savagery. This was not the work of a rogue vampire acting on primal instincts—this was calculated, clinical, and diabolical. It was the third such scene in as many months.
High atop the Syndicate’s hidden headquarters, Chief Inspector Marcus Cain summoned the Iron Claws to his office. The grim-faced wolves filed in, their Alpha, Gideon Kane, leading the pack. They had tackled countless cases together, their brotherhood forged in the fires of their youth in the Shadowfang Pack. But this time, there was a twist: they weren’t going alone.
“You’ll be taking a seventh investigator with you,” Cain announced. The air in the room turned heavy as the werewolves exchanged dark glances. “Lysandra Voss, a vampire from the Noble Coven, will be joining you. It’s non-negotiable.”
Gideon growled low in his throat, his golden eyes narrowing. “A leech? Are you serious? We’re tracking a vampire who’s butchering people, and you want us to babysit one of them?”
“Lysandra’s expertise in vampire hierarchies and rituals is invaluable,” Cain said firmly. “This isn’t a request, Kane. Dismissed.”
