My job was to save lives.
I did a pretty damn good job until a woman was rolled into my ER seven months ago. She should have been dead on arrival. Under the bright exam lights, strapped to a gurney, she whispered her final words. I shouldn't have leaned in.
My world was changed forever.
Bars were my hunting ground. Drink after drink. Man after man. I fed the eight-legged monster that lived inside of me. Or hundreds of monsters. They tended to pour out of me when I gave in.
I almost gave myself over to the urges. That was until I met them: a quirky alpha wolf shifter with a pocket-sized monkey, a fallen angel with a mermaid obsession, and the devil that had more baggage than LAX.