Sinners & Sorcerers: Four Urban Fantasy Thrillers (48 page)

“Ygrusibas was called forth, wasn’t he?” Her voice was light, melodic. It didn’t match her look, not at all, but he was almost relieved he didn’t have to see her, not now. The shades were still pulled in the motel room and as he sat there on the edge of the bed, in the dark, he found he couldn’t picture her. Which was probably just as well.

“He was,” Hendricks said. They didn’t need to exchange names. Never had. She knew who he was, and he knew her. Had since the day they’d met five years ago. “We put a halt to it.”

There was a quiet, a pause. “You and Archibald Stan.” There was something ominous about the way she said it.

“Yes. But he goes by Arch.” He felt a bead of sweat roll down his face, and he knew it wasn’t just the heat.

There was another pause, this one longer. “You need to stay there.”

“The hotspot’s still going, then?” Hendricks asked. Not that he expected a full and complete response, but sometimes he’d pan out a nugget or two in the search, things he wasn’t expecting. Half the fun of a conversation with her was trying to get one of those, anyway. He had a suspicion that this time that the luck probably wasn’t going to go his way. She’d already used Arch’s name, after all. That was pretty abnormal since she never talked about anyone else but him and whatever demon he might be hunting.

“It will continue from here on out,” she said. “All the way until the end.”

Hendricks listened, waiting for more. When nothing else came, he asked. “The end of the world?” He felt a heavy sort of dread in his voice, which was surprising for a man who’d been living on borrowed time for so long.

“Yes.” The answer was simple, understated. Just like everything she said.

Hendricks tried to figure out the best way to approach it, to say what he meant, and he finally just came out with it. “When’s it going to start?”

The soft, melodic tone drifted from note to note in her answer. “It has already begun. It began with the rise of Ygrusibas and will march ever on from here until it reaches the hellish conclusion.”

He blanched, even though she was handing out nuggets left and right at the moment. It was almost like he didn’t want to hear any more. Didn’t stop him from listening on anyway, though.

“Is there any way to stop it?” Hendricks asked. He thought about Erin. About Arch. “Any way at all?”

“There are possibilities,” the voice returned. “But they remain only that, so long as Archibald Stan remains alive.”

Hendricks sat up on the bed, ramrod, like something had been jabbed into his back. “What? So long as Arch remains alive? What the fuck does that mean?” There was silence, no answer at all. “I’m sorry,” Hendricks said after a moment, composing himself. “What does Arch have to do with the end of the world?”

It took a while of listening to the line crackle before she finally spoke again. “Everything. He has everything to do with it.” She sounded almost tender now, like she was delivering mortally bad news. Which, Hendricks supposed, she was.

“Archibald Stan is the man who will bring about the end of the world.”

A Note to the Reader

If you enjoyed this book and want to know about future releases by Robert J. Crane, you can
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I also wanted to take a moment to thank you for reading this story. As an independent author, getting my name out to build an audience is one of the biggest priorities on any given day. If you enjoyed this story and are looking forward to reading more, let someone know
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post it on Amazon, on your blog, if you have one, on Goodreads.com, place it in a quick Facebook status or Tweet with a link to the page of whatever outlet you purchased it from. Good reviews inspire people to take a chance on a new author
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like me. And we new authors can use all the help we can get.

Thanks for reading.

Robert J. Crane

These were the people who helped me launch this new series:

Shannon Garza, who signed on with enthusiasm to assist in the beginning, when all I had was a mission statement. Thanks for believing in me, Red.

Carien Keevey, who watched
Justified
before reading this and didn't draw but maybe one comparison between my boy Hendricks and Raylan Givens. I'm sure reading this
S
outhern-ish dialect stuff wasn't easy for her, but she made it through somehow.

Heather Rodefer was buried under mountains of things to edit and real-life emergencies, yet still found time to get through this for me, and for that I am grateful. She's always my beta editor-in-chief.

Jerod Heck gave me a read-through that included everything I needed to make sure Hendricks sounded like a real Marine, not a lazy writer behind a desk. Much thanks, dude. I'll have a Leinie's in your honor later. (Bwahahaha!)

David Leach took an early look at the manuscript and made sure I didn't eff things up too bad. David's been a great sounding board on this and the Sanctuary Series, and to him I owe great thanks.

My Uncle Larry and Aunt Rita let me bring one of my kids down to spend time on their farm while I started the first draft of this manuscript. Thanks to them I got a ridiculous amount of writing done while still having a lot of fun.

My Grandparents also let me come to visit them to write part of this, while bringing my same pre-schooler destruction crew with me, and I similarly got a lot done. Thanks to them for the help.

Sarah Barbour has got to be one of the longest-suffering souls in this business. She gets to see the mess of my manuscripts after I've already rejected an abundant number of changes from my beta readers. She gets through them with a steely eye toward the details, though, and I'm always amazed at the things she catches. Also, she recommended I describe Hendricks's coat as a "duster," figuring you'd all know what that means, but I totally rejected that change. Google "drover coat," you'll be fine.

My thanks as always to Karri Klawiter for her efforts on the cover, as always. She's such a joy to work with.

To my parents, especially, who accompanied me during much of my travels while writing this book so they could provide babysitting, and to my wife who remained at home to manage the fort, I owe my thanks. Also, to my kids, for making sure I have a little fun every day.

Robert J. Crane was born and raised on Florida’s Space Coast before moving to the upper midwest in search of cooler climates and more palatable beer. He graduated from the University of Central Florida with a degree in English Creative Writing. He worked for a year as a substitute teacher and worked in the financial services field for seven years while writing in his spare time. He makes his home in the Twin Cities area of Minnesota.

He can be contacted in several ways:

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Other Works by Robert J. Crane

Find available titles 
on Amazon
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The Sanctuary Series
Epic Fantasy

Defender: The Sanctuary Series, Volume One
Avenger: The Sanctuary Series, Volume Two
Champion: The Sanctuary Series, Volume Three
Crusader: The Sanctuary Series, Volume Four
Sanctuary Tales, Volume One - A Short Story Collection
Thy Father's Shadow: A Sanctuary Novel*
Master: The Sanctuary Series, Volume Five*

__________________

The Girl in the Box
Contemporary Urban Fantasy

Alone: The Girl in the Box, Book 1
Untouched: The Girl in the Box, Book 2
Soulless: The Girl in the Box, Book 3
Family: The Girl in the Box, Book 4
Omega: The Girl in the Box, Book 5
Broken: The Girl in the Box, Book 6
Enemies: The Girl in the Box, Book 7
Legacy: The Girl in the Box, Book 8
Destiny: The Girl in the Box, Book 9*
Power: The Girl in the Box, Book 10*

__________________

Southern Watch
Contemporary Urban Fantasy

Called: Southern Watch, Book 1
Depths: Southern Watch, Book 2* - Coming February 2014!
Corrupted: Southern Watch, Book 3*

*Forthcoming

FLAMING DOVE
DANIEL ARENSON

Copyright © 2010 by Daniel Arenson

All rights reserved.

This novel is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination, or, if real, used fictitiously.

No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by an electronic or mechanical means, including photocopying, recording or by any information storage and retrieval system, without the express written permission of the author.

I am Laila, of the night. I have walked through godlight and through darkness. I have fought demons and I have slain angels. I am Laila, of the shadows. I have hidden and run, and I have stood up and striven. I am Laila, of tears and blood, of sins and of piety. I am Laila, outcast from Hell, banished from Heaven. I am alone, in darkness. I am Laila, of light and of fire. I am fallen. I rise again.