Demons had lurked among humanity since the dawn of creation, the ragged remains of Fallen angels who’d been cursed by God for their sins. Most of them, however, were smart enough to stay hidden. If they kept to the shadows, they could survive—some even thrive—cheek to jowl with the sort of despicable humans who could give them a run for their money in a race to the bottom. Those demons spent their twisted existence on the fringes of society, victims of their own insatiable habits.
There was a catch, however. Demons couldn’t kill a human, couldn’t even harm one of God’s children, and expect to avoid His divine wrath. That was where Warrick and the Syx came in.
Though they were themselves demons who’d been damned beyond the veil for their own sins, trapped in a bolt-hole created at the fall of Atlantis, Warrick’s crew of enforcers had earned some measure of reprieve from their condemnation through their ability to rout out the worst of their kind. They’d spent millennia at the beck and call of humans who cried out for their aid. Now, that aid was in epically high demand, for two very good reasons:
One, it took a demon to banish a demon, and nobody was better at it than Warrick and the Syx.
And two, a shit ton of the bastards had just been set free to roam the earth. Again.
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