Green Flame Assassin (Demon Lord series, book 2) by Morgan Blayde

glared at me, hating what I’d said.  “Surely, you have a healing spell, some kind of demon magic?”
Old Man loomed over her and Haziar, all his power useless.  ” Taxrasque venom has its own magical elements.  Healing spells don’t work on this.  I’m terribly sorry.”
Haziar lifted his face, a brave smile tugging at his lips as he turned Kimberley’s face to his.  “It’s all right.  I’d die for you a thousand times if such joy were possible.”
William was back, staring down at the fey warrior.  “You have my word; I will protect the woman until all this is over.”
I didn’t see what all the fuss was about.  Everyone dies, eventually.  I headed for the door to the living room.  “I’m going to change.”
I walked through a silent house and went into my bedroom.  Stripping off my clothes, I dropped them in my closet hamper, pulling out a new outfit to change into.  Oddly, I picked up the scent of sex with Angie from my bedding.  It was as if she were pressed right up against me. Weird.  
In the bathroom, I studied myself in the mirror.  My chest looked normal.  No golden glow lingered.  I touched the area over my heart.  My skin felt harder, thicker.  Not just my chest.  Everywhere I touched, my skin had grown dense.  Luckily, my fingertips retained their usual sensitivity. 
I heard the alarm clock ticking in the next room and frowned.  Another change; my hearing was sharper, matching my new heightened sense of smell.  I closed my eyes and drew a deep breath.  I identified cleaning chemicals in the cabinet under the sink.  Opening my eyes, I stared at my face in the mirror, trying to work out why these sudden changes had kicked in.
“What the fuck.”
My right eye had a slit pupil.  The iris was its normal light brown but the pupil was a deep red slit.  As I watched, my eye went back to normal, but not the rest of my senses.  I’d need to adjust to that so they wouldn’t distract me in the next battle down the line.
I returned to the bedroom, and sat on the bed, opening up a gun cleaning kit.  After the soaking I’d received, the weapons could use some attention.  I was just finishing up when my phone played a tune for my attention.  I found the phone on the end table, and checked it, finding a text message from Gloria: The werecats are here.  What do you want me to do?
I texted her back: Give them my address and send them here.
I could have gone down to the bar to collect the girls, but this was better.  I had booze here, and after the stress of the fight with the taxrasque, a sleepy lethargy had begun to creep over me.  I put the PPKs in their harness, stowed the kit, and—still naked—flopped back on the bed letting my eyes close.  It would take the werekitties about an hour to arrive, perfect for a catnap.
 
*     *     *
 
Osamu shook me awake.  I shot a glance at the window.  It was getting dark.  I’d been asleep a lot longer than I’d intended. The alarm clock on the nightstand read six-fifteen. Osamu handed me a cup of coffee. “Something to revive the spirit, Caine-sama. And you have guests waiting.”
“The werekitties are here?”
“And making serious inroads on your liquor supply.  Miss Cleo and Dani seem fond of Long Island Ice Teas.  Miss Terri prefers something called Sex on the Beach.  Oh, I’m supposed to inform you that pretzel sticks would be appreciated.”
I took a restorative gulp of steaming coffee.  The flavor seemed richer than ever before.  The aroma intoxicated.  The heat should have burned my tongue, but didn’t.  I chalked it up to the recent changes in my physiology since getting back in town.  I drained the cup in seconds and handed it back.
“Tell them I’ll be along soon.  And since we have no pretzels, maybe you could throw together some tempura shrimp or something.”
Osamu gave a slight bow.  “I live to serve.” 
As he strolled away, a black mist condensed from nowhere, settling onto the foot