Behind the excitement and technological progress of Industrial-Revolution-era London, strange things have begun to happen. Members of the blue-blooded nobility have started going missing, important artifacts have been disappearing, and an ancient cult has stepped out of the shadows to make itself known to the rest of the world. When an elite religious order known only as "The Ravens" gets its hands on an ancient and powerful talisman, no one but the cult itself knows about its disappearance or the power it wields. Or so they think. Little do they know, a secret organization tasked with protecting the unsuspecting citizens of London has found out about the missing talisman and knows only too well the potential devastation of such an object. Because of this knowledge, they will stop at nothing to get the mystical artifact back into safe hands. That's where thief Jac Dupont comes in. A street-savvy orphan, Jac is the seventeen-year-old leader of a renowned band of thieves. Each member possesses a unique set of skills that allows them to collectively take on some of the most difficult heists of the century. There's not a single person involved in the black market who hasn't heard of the highly-skilled gang and its enigmatic leader. But there's one thing no one outside of the tight-knit group has ever figured out. "Jac" is short for Jacqueline.

Considering just how many people were in that crowded station, Bex couldn't say what it was that compelled her to look around at the precise moment she did. Instinct, perhaps, or the innate sense of being watched. In any case, as she slowly turned her head, she felt...strange. Almost as if she'd drunken too much of the special "punch" Alex liked to make for celebrations. She felt the same heaviness she often experienced after the potent drink had made its way through her system .... When Bex finally looked into the piercing blue eyes that were watching her from across the room, however, all lethargy seemed to cease. She was suddenly aware as she'd never been aware before, as though some previously dormant part of her was waking up for the first time. All at once she was conscious of the fact that it had been years since she'd had a proper haircut, that the clothes she was wearing weren't even hers, that she wasn't nearly as confident as she should've been in her ability to carry out the mission. But then, as the bright blue eyes narrowed slightly and the tanned male brow puckered infinitesimally, those thoughts dissipated and all that was left was the realization of OH, MY GOSH, HE'S WALKING RIGHT TOWARDS ME... [NOT A WEREWOLF STORY]