You would think when you bag a werewolf, or lycanthrope or shape-shifter or whatever the PC term is, on a Sunday morning that would be the high point of your week.
You’d think. But you’d be wrong. I was.
I was also ignorant of Demonic Ex-pats, those creatures that come from Hell but want to leave all its horror and glory behind to live a ‘normal’ life on the Earth Plane. I was didn’t know it was even allowed, and that there was a kind of supernatural INS to deal with them.
But one thing I did know is that any time there are rules, there’s someone willing to break them for profit.
Coyotes have been smuggling Ex-pats back and forth almost since Hell and Earth came into being. No one in the occult world liked it, but they, like everyone else in contemporary society, have to choose their battles. Sometimes it’s just better to look the other way and get on with your life.
That is until one of them starts causing too many deaths and making to many ugly tears in the fabric between Earth and Hades.
That’s when the guy I work for gets involved.