They say the dead don’t speak. That’s a lie. They speak to Kat Justice, but most of the time, she chooses not to hear them.
I’m a Nightwatch agent, a nightblood charged with enforcing the supernatural laws. Humans can’t know the shit that goes bump in the night is real. It’s sweaty, tough work, with crappy pay, but I love it.
Things would be perfect if not for my secret.
Pureblood Nightbloods can’t see or hear the dead. The fact that I can exposes my mixed breeding. I’m not meant to exist, and if the council find out about my secret it’s the executioners block for me.
Keeping a lid on my ghost whisperer ability is a must.
So, when my gramps orders me to head to the arse end of nowhere, a nowhere that just happens to be the most haunted place on the bloody map, I’m a little confused.
This transfer doesn’t jive with trying to keep the ghost chat to a minimum.
But with my golem partner and gargoyle companion in tow, I’m sure I can figure out why I’ve been sent to this weird coastal town. I mean, they even have a ghost bar.
You’d think the local souls would be eager to chew my ear off, right? Wrong.
For the first time in forever, the dead aren’t talking.
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