“Ay up, Mogs. Bringer of mad tidings. What is it this time?”
“End of the world,” I said.
“Can’t get much madder than that.”

We hadn’t planned on returning to Leeds — not with half the Folk still wanting us dead.

But our friend Gerry is missing, and whoever took out a troll is way above our pay grade.

Not that anyone pays us anyway.

Turns out, a missing troll is the least of our problems. Leeds has skipped past dicey and straight into apocalypse. The necromancers are back, and this time they don’t just want a few cats dead. They want everyone.

To stop them and save Gerry, we’ll have to get past Callum’s dodgy family, my dodgy past, feral weres, shady magicians, and the ever-annoying Watch.

Oh, and the sorcerer’s still yanking me out of my body.

At least it can’t get worse.

…Can it?