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Jack Connors was a demi-demon—in other words he was half human, half demon—and had been helping demons, shifters, and others in Roxburgh for a long time.

He started off working in a human hospital, intercepting cases that involved demi like him, then shifters and witches and anything not human.

There’d been a desperate need for a hospital of our own.

So Jack had opened a clinic and got the ambulance service up and running, and he’d been the one to hire me.

Jack was awesome; no, I hadn’t felt that way when we first started working together.

I may have referred to him a time or two as a giant douche-canoe.

But I realized after getting to know him, he hadn’t had it out for me, he just really freaking wanted the clinic and ambulance service to work.

Jack’s phone lit up. “Another OD.” He cursed. “Dogwood Park.”

Crap . I eased our patient back, rushed to the front of the ambulance, and jumped in the driver’s seat. We’d have to drop him off afterward.

“He’s secured,” Jack called. “Go go go.”

I tore off at breakneck speed. Dogwood Park was an old industrial area that’d been purchased by a bunch of wolf shifters.

They’d subdivided it into large plots, like several acres each, and had been demoing the old buildings.

The plan was to turn it back into forestland and build luxury cabins for local shifters with ready cash to buy and enjoy their own piece of paradise.

And right in the middle of it all was the arena. Another new venture that had taken off. It was in an old converted warehouse and now held fights every Wednesday night. Those attending could fight or bet on their favorites and, hopefully, make a nice chunk of change at the end of the evening.

The ambulance was called there almost every Wednesday, where we patched up the idiots who went to get their asses kicked.

Usually, those fighting were fast healers, but we’d had a few touch-and-go moments.

There were also a lot of broken bones and dislocated joints, and those had to be set quickly or there was a risk of them healing out of alignment.

As soon as I sped into the parking lot, someone waved us over. A crowd had gathered outside the main entrance. I jumped out and rushed over to assess the situation.

The female was foaming at the mouth and convulsing. This was no fighting injury. “We’ll need to pump her stomach,” I called to Jack.

He grabbed what we needed and ran to join me, and we got to work.

Thankfully, once we got the drugs out of her, she seemed okay, but we needed to get her to the clinic ASAP.

Jack secured our new patient on the gurney. “I need to get these two transferred.”

“I’ll wait here, there could be more,” I said. Both stretchers in the ambulance were full, and if someone else got hurt, we’d have no room to transport them.

“Yeah, probably a good idea the way tonight’s going. You’ll be okay?” he asked.

“Yeah, fine.”

Jack took the Taser from the glove compartment and handed it to me anyway. “Don’t hesitate if someone tries to mess with you.”

“You know I won’t.” Though that had never happened. Everyone who came here seemed to recognize the uniform now, appreciated what we did, and stayed out of our way, which was the only reason Jack was cool leaving me.

“As soon as I drop them off, I’ll head back.”

“I’ll be fine,” I said again, grabbed the pack we kept stocked with supplies out of the back of the rig, added a few extras from my own bag, and slid it on.

I jumped down, shut the doors, and headed into the warehouse as he drove away.

The place was packed as always, and loud. Cheers mixed with music blared through the room. Mainly wolves, crows, bats, and a few other breeds of shifters came for the fights, but there were always demons as well, and a handful of vampires came most weeks.

Scanning the room, I spotted Rome and Lothar, beers in hand, watching the action going on in the cage; several other hellhounds were there as well.

A demon of mixed breed, by the looks of him, and a crow shifter were currently fighting, and going by the number of lines tattooed on the side of the crow’s head, and the grin on his face, he was toying with his opponent.

No one was usually stupid enough to take on the crows, besides the hounds that is. The demon must be new here.

I scanned the room, looking for anyone who might need my help as I made my way over to Lothar. We spent a lot of time at the hellhounds’ clubhouse now that Fern was mated to Relic, and when Jagger came back, I’d be there even more.

My heart did a stupid flutter, and I couldn’t contain my grin when I stopped beside Loth. “Hey,” I called.

He looked down at me, then behind me. “Where’s your backup?”

I smiled wider. Hounds were emotionally stunted, yes, but they really were protective of females.

Probably because they didn’t have any. Female hounds weren’t a thing, only their male offspring were hounds.

Females took after their mothers. “He’s taking some patients back to the clinic,” I yelled over the music. “He’ll be back soon.”

Roman patted me on the head. “What up, shorty?”

By the looks of him, he’d already fought, not because he was bruised or anything, but because there was blood that I doubted very much was his smeared on his knuckles. The groupie beside him pressed her boobs against his arm and narrowed her eyes at me.

I ignored her. “Thought I’d stop by to say hey. I’m just doing the rounds?—”

“Medic!” someone yelled from the cage.

I spun around. “Crap.”

The crow stood back, splattered with blood and utterly calm, while the demon lay on the floor, sliced in several places, his leg at an odd angle and an arm that was obviously dislocated. The crow had gone easy on him—the demon was still breathing.

“Medic!” I yelled, trying to push through the crowd. “Let me through.”

Suddenly, I was airborne, big arms lifting me and shoving the crowd aside. “I got you,” Rome said, getting me where I needed to go with ease and planting me on my feet.

The cage door was open, and I rushed in and quickly got to work setting his break and getting Rome to help me pop his shoulder back in, while I stopped the demon’s bleeding and used my magic and healing oil to jumpstart his own healing abilities.

When I was done, his friends came and carried him away, and I got out of the cage so they could hose away the blood for the next two fighters.

Idiots . Seriously, absolute imbeciles, all of them. I didn’t get the appeal of any of this.

Over the next half hour, I patched and set bones as needed. Jack had obviously been held up, but so far there’d been nothing I couldn’t handle.

I made my way through the crowd and spotted Luke.

Relief washed through me. He was our youngest coven member, sweet, impressionable, and a little gullible.

He hadn’t been answering my calls the last week, and I’d been getting worried.

I assumed he’d been staying at his girlfriend’s place.

What the hell was he doing here? He better not try to get in that cage; he’d get his fool self killed.

I waved at him, and I was positive he’d seen me, but instead of coming over, he took off.

What the hell?

I started after him, when someone grabbed my arm. “Please, can you help my friend?” A male was slumped against his side, pink foam gathering around his mouth.

Shit . Another one. “Put him on the ground. Get back!” I yelled at everyone closing in around us. I was checking his airway when Jack arrived. Thank the goddess.

“We need to pump his stomach.” I grabbed what we needed from my bag.

Jack inserted the tube, and I dipped my head low, letting my hair fall forward to cover my face—and my transformation—as I attempted to draw the residual poison from him with my magic.

Something hit my shoulder, and I was shoved back.

My cousin Bonny stood over me, a look of disgust on her face. “Get your filthy fucking hands off my boyfriend.” She pointed at Jack. “You save him, but that gross demon freak doesn’t touch him.”

Jack looked up at her, and I could tell he was about to tell her to fuck off. I know my cousin, though, and that would only set her off more. No matter what she thought of me or me of her, we needed to save this guy.

I lifted my hands. “It’s okay,” I said to him.

By the look on his face, Jack didn’t agree. I stood, stepping back while the guy’s friends held him down when his convulsions got really bad.

“We need to get him to the clinic,” Jack yelled.

They lifted him, and I followed, rushing for the ambulance. They got him on a stretcher, but even from a distance I could feel his life force weakening. “We’re losing him,” I called to Jack.

“Do your thing, Sutton,” he said and headed for the driver’s door.

My cousin grabbed my arm. “I said you can’t fucking touch him,” she all but shrieked.

“Then he dies,” Jack bit out. “You either let Sutton work on him, or you should say your goodbyes now.”

Hatred burned from her eyes, but she finally nodded and followed me into the back of the ambulance. Jack shut the doors after us and jumped into the driver’s seat.

I held my hands over him, using every bit of healing magic I could to keep him alive while we sped from the parking lot and along the main road, leading us out of Dogwood Park.

The whole way, I felt Bonny’s magic crackling around us, ready to attack if anything went wrong.

Ready to hurt me because of what I was, as if we’d never played together as children or spent holidays and birthdays together.

“He better not fucking die, Sutton,” she said.

I ignored her and kept working as Jack slowed, turning on the lights and siren, cursing as he tried to ease out of an intersection and into traffic, but no one was letting him through.

That’s when I heard the rumbling sound of an engine so familiar, so comforting, as unique to me as the male who rode that particular bike.

I looked up in time to see it round the corner into Dogwood.

The rider looked up, and I was positive he saw me before he opened up and tore down the road, heading toward the warehouse.

Jagger.

Jack pulled out, stopping traffic, and gunned it.

That was Jagger. I was positive.

Excitement filled me. He was home.

He was finally home.