I'm Cisco Suarez: necromancer, shadow charmer, black magic outlaw. Sounds kinda cool, doesn't it? It was, right until I woke up half dead in a dumpster.
Did I say half dead? Because I meant 100% dead. Full on. I don't do things halfway.
So here I am, alive for some reason, just another sunny day in Miami. It's a perfect paradise, except I'm into something bad. Wanted by police, drenched in the stink of dark magic, nether creatures coming out of the woodwork, and don't get me started on the Haitian voodoo gang. Trust me, it's all fun and games until there's a zombie pit bull on your tail.
I'm Cisco Suarez: necromancer, shadow charmer, black magic outlaw, and totally screwed.
I'm Cisco Suarez, and a week ago I was dead.
Cursed into serving a clandestine shadow group, I have a lot of blood on my hands. Good thing I also have a juvenile problem with authority. I'm not taking orders anymore, and the first thing on my bucket list is bringing them down.
If I'm good at anything, it's looking in dark places. But I've got shadows of my own. Horrific deeds coming back to haunt me, and not the metaphorical kind of haunting, either. I'm talking ghosts, mages, and that thing with the glowing red eyes.
Just goes to show you, it really is true what they say. What goes around comes around. I only hope to give more than I get.
Is resurrection overrated or what?
Black Magic gets a bad rap. Trust me. When people see me, they don't see Cisco Suarez, they see a rogue. A shadow charmer. A black magic outlaw.
Maybe they're right. Maybe everything I touch withers and dies. But that doesn't give the SWAT team a right to come in guns blazing.
I tell you. A little collateral damage to city hall and all of a sudden you're Public Enemy Number One.
But I'm doing some policing myself. Got my own Cisco's Most Wanted. Pop quiz: Who's more dangerous? A conspiratorial mage, a volcanic elemental, or a dirty Miami politician?
The answer might surprise you because I never saw it coming.
Cisco Suarez versus an entire Caribbean drug cartel. Round one. Fight.
Okay, not exactly the most even championship match, but it's the one I drew. If you told me months ago I'd be robbing drug dealers, I would've committed you myself. Who needs that kind of trouble, right?
The good news is I'm only after one man: Connor Hatch. The bad news is he's the new Pablo Escobar, a primal being, and all but untouchable.
It gets worse. He's rounding up the Russian mob for something big, and I'm not the only spellslinger in the picture. They say follow the money or follow the drugs. Maybe I should keep an eye on who's following me.
Some problems call for a delicate hand. I don't have those kinds of problems.
I'm Cisco Suarez and this is the end of the line.
I've been beaten, shackled, killed once or twice, but hey, who's counting? I put my foot down at being lit up like a candle at my daughter's tenth birthday party. Some things you take personal.
Revenge won't be easy. The Miami voodoo underground turned on me. An uppity wizard cartel is creeping into my business. If that's not enough, I keep seeing the same damn black cat everywhere I go. Talk about crummy luck.
None of it matters. I've got laser focus on my archenemy, a jinn with a knack for fire. News flash: I'm done being burned. Connor Hatch is going down for good, even if I have to drag him to hell myself.
When you live in a city notorious for going too far, trouble’s what you make of it. Believe me, I’ve seen my share. Now I’m taking my ill-gotten gains and laying down roots. Imagine that. Cisco Suarez living the Miami high life.
In a perfect world, all I’d worry about were mounting HOA violations and a girlfriend playing hard to get. Not my world.
One innocent investigation turns into a meet and greet with human-trafficking vampires and, surprise, surprise, the cops frown on my brand of outlaw justice. The FBI’s next, asking questions about a set of murders I didn’t commit. Oh, and said serial killer might just want a word with yours truly.
Yup, trouble’s what you make of it alright, and I just can’t help myself.