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I'd like to meet:

THE ELEVEN--an alliance of ultimate predators. Primal, lethal, irresistible.
THE PROPHECY--an ancient Mayan prediction that the world will end on 12-21-12.
THE PREY--where can you hide from pure evil?

Lies. He's been promised a new life as the hunter he once was. But Al soon learns that all the rules have changed. Now he must control his most basic urges--the need to kill, to feed, to mate. And the woman he wants looks at him with both heat and fear in her eyes. Jenna Maloy doesn't buy the story that he's come to Philadelphia to save souls. She seems to see through the layers of deception to the primitive heart of him. With her beside him, Al stalks the dark forces that crouch in the city's night shadows. But the real battle rages in his heart. Love is a formidable opponent. How can he ask her to stay with him after she's seen the savagery of his beast? He only knows that if she turns from him he'll be cursed with an eternal craving.

Eleven Gods of the Night...
The only creatures more deadly are the ones they've been summoned to destroy.

Meet Al Endeka:

Kill. It was a primal scream filling his mind, blocking out things he should understand, remember. Kill. It was heat and rage and a pounding in his head demanding more, more, and still more death. It blazed hot and hungry, devouring him from the inside out. But nothing could burn away what lived in his soul.

His beast was free. No way was he forcing it back into its cave when there was still a demon left to tear apart. Shedding all human thoughts, he mounted his primitive soul for a last wild ride.

The demon was in its true form as it flapped leathery wings and rose above him. All its supernatural powers were useless against his beast, so now the demon was playing its last card. A straight-up physical attack. Dumbass.

The demon plunged toward him, and he roared as he rose to meet it. It screamed, a long cry of shock and pain as he ripped one of those wings away. Its dark, thick blood flowed sluggishly across the churned up grass and dirt.

The smell of demon blood drove him wild. Before the creature could scuttle away from him, he ripped away the other wing. Now all it could do was flop around helplessly.

It had all been too easy. In a killing frenzy he ripped the creature to shreds, refusing to quit even after the demon’s dying screams had ended.

“It’s over, Al. Control your soul. Come back to us.”

The voice in his head should make sense to him. He knew that. But he resisted. Come back? What if he didn’t want to?