Persephone Jones is part of a paranormal investigation team out of Detroit. She manages all the information the team gathers on cases, but everyone suspects there’s more to Seph than she’s letting on—she’s a medium, a powerful one. When the team is called by Jack Henessy, a member of the Werewolves of Rebellion MC, to investigate disturbances in his new home, Seph and Jack are possessed by the entities and inadvertently participate in a kiss that rocks them both with its intensity and sets them on an intertwined path. Jack finds that he will do anything to protect Seph, anything to claim her. However, he’s uncertain if she feels the same way about him. Seph’s past is shrouded, even from her, and she’s hiding something buried so deeply that it takes an explosive night of sex to unlock the secret. However, someone has a bone to pick with Jack. A stalker targets him, then goes after Seph. Between bags of weed planted in his home and a shooter taking pot shots at him, Jack must learn who has a vendetta against him and why. When Seph is nearly killed by a few Wraithkillers, it plunges the Werewolves of Rebellion into the path of the most unexpected culprit of all. It will take Seph’s mysterious past and the kindness of an abused spirit to save Jack and his MC family. Once Seph’s true identity is revealed, there’s no turning back.
He cleared his throat. She jumped.
“Oh!” Turning sideways in the threshold, she gaped at him, surprise all over her face. “You scared the hell out of me.”
At the color infusing her cheeks, he smirked. “What are you doing back here?”
“I’m sorry.” The red blooming over her skin spread down her neck. “I was drawn back here for some reason.”
Now her disappearance made sense. He nodded. “Ah, I didn’t know that the team employed a medium.”
“They don’t.”
“Excuse me?”
“Well,” she said, “they don’t know that they do, and I don’t call myself a”—she moved over to the end of the short hall and glanced down the main one toward the kitchen—“medium, or a psychic or even a sensitive. I just…know things.” She lowered her voice. “I see things other people can’t, things no one else can even sense.”
“So why doesn’t the team know that you’re a…?” He waved one hand in her direction. “Whatever.”
“It’s a long story,” she replied quietly. “I just don’t want them to know.” She frowned and gazed up at him. “I’m not even sure why I told you this. I’ve never said anything to anyone about what I’m capable of, so please don’t say anything to them.”
At her direct eye contact, Jack froze. Her eyes weren’t brown, nor were they gold or even a sandy hue. Amber, hers were amber. Deep, rich, startling orange-gold eyes. He let his gaze wander up to her hair swept back into a tie. Raven-wing hair, hair that set off her striking eyes.
The air grew cool around them, the temperature dropping sharply. She gasped and something odd settled over her face, something he couldn’t quite label, but it seemed part shock and part fear. He opened his mouth to say something to her, but the temperature had fallen so rapidly that only fog puffed from his lips.
“What the hell? What’s going—”
The cold speared him straight through the center of his chest. He stiffened, uttered a low “oomph,” then, without any way to stop himself, he pushed the medium backward until he had her wedged in the tiny corner between the doorframe and the wall. She blinked several times, her gaze locking with his, then a huge smile brightened her face, and Jack found himself kissing the hell out of her.
