He was supposed to be a name on a financial filing.
Eight months of work. Seventeen shell companies. A case that was three
weeks from being usable. And then the lamp turned on — and Silas Vane
was already in the room.
Julian Thorne has spent his career finding things people don’t want
found. Former FBI. Three years as a private investigator for families
who’ve lost someone to organized crime. He’s careful, methodical, and
very good at keeping the personal and the professional in their
separate lanes.
He’s never investigated anything like the Syndicate.
Silas Vane is six hundred and twelve years old. He runs one of five
vampire bloodlines operating beneath New York City, and he has a
problem: someone inside his organization is feeding intelligence to a
task force that wants to dismantle everything he’s built. He needs
someone who can work in the human world. Someone exceptional.
He’s been watching Julian Thorne for eleven months.
The arrangement is simple: Julian finds the traitor. Silas provides
access. When the work is done, Julian walks away with everything he
came in with.
Simple. Bounded. Professional.
Except the building knows Julian’s coffee brand. Except the thread
between them grows warmer every week. Except there’s a sealed record
from 2015 with a dead man’s name in it, and a petition that will cost
the bloodline everything, and a man who has not allowed himself
aftermath in three centuries slowly, methodically, catastrophically
making an exception.
The Night Syndicate is a slow-burn dark MM paranormal romance featuring
a morally grey vampire who processes emotion as a data point, a human
investigator who is inconveniently excellent at his job, a governance
structure two hundred feet below Central Park, and a relationship that
develops with the same precision and inevitability as a very good case.
HEA guaranteed. The road there is not gentle.
