Superheroes and Sorcerers

My memory was a little fuzzy over what happened after. But I remember drifting in memory.
I had faced three demons before in my life. The first time was when I was sixteen. I’d been with a little group of high school monster hunters, amateurs. We’d been prepared that time. Magic circle. Holy water.
I don’t really care about that one much really. It was easy. No, I remembered the second one. That ordeal, that is what a good deal of my nightmares consist of. (continue reading…)

San Francisco State University is one of those places I don’t go to voluntarily. Too many bad memories. I go there, unfortunately, because the lead expert in demonology in Frisco works there.
I guess Harvard wasn’t hiring in the field. (continue reading…)

I came around to the sweet smell of vanilla and cinnamon candles. There wasn’t any pain in my head this time. In fact, I felt rather nice.
Opening my eyes, I found myself in a bed. It was easily king-sized, holding my tall frame rather well. The red silk sheets and heavy comforter felt wonderful on me. Upon inspection under the sheets, I found myself naked and smelling of soap.
I covered myself again, then looked around the room. I was in a huge four poster bed, elegant in its appearance. The rest of the room was a mix of old and new styles, clashing in a stylish way. Plush old wooden furniture sat around the room, and a wooden table sat near the ground in front of the bed with lit candles on it. On the nightstand lay an old wind-up clock and a plasma television hung on the far wall. (continue reading…)

Patrick had come to pick up Kenzie. They were in her car now, trying to settle her down. She’d gone into shock, from the simple terror of what she’d experienced. That alone scared me. Kenzie was one of the strongest people I ever knew. For her to get scared like that…yikes.
I sat outside the warehouse on the hood of my car. Patrick had driven it over. The hood still felt a little warm. My old red Mini Cooper had a nice comfort to it. It was an anchor in the aftermath of what had happened.
Ghosts could be powerful things. Stacking chairs from an incorporeal state actually isn’t easy as Hollywood makes it seem. Despite some powerful ghosts, most of them didn’t reach the potential of powerful. Kenzie, however, could give enough energy to sustain that ghost so it could materialize in our plane.
Something was blocking it. Though I couldn’t think of anything that could do something like that. Blocking a spell like that was no easy deal. It took a hell of a lot of mojo. (continue reading…)

Hi, everyone. This is the second story of the American Arcane. Again, please read and review as either comments or emails at justen@justenhunter.com. This was written in the spring of ‘09, and hasn’t seen the light of day too many times. Enjoy.

“Jake Sinclair, Black Knights Investigations.” I said as I picked up the receiver. Pat had just transferred the call to me.
The voice on the other end was thick, gruff, and carried just a hint of a Chinese accent. “Sinclair, it’s Li.”
Lieutenant Li was my meal ticket. I did a lot of consulting with the San Francisco Police Department. Back in the 1970’s, the local governments of America started to notice the oogey-boogey more. The city of San Francisco had responded by creating the Special Crimes Division, the unit responsible for all Arcane investigations. Unofficially. Li had been the head of the department for a long time. He’d worked with my father back when he was a demon hunter. Detective Li was granted a lot of resources and leeway, mostly because the city officials wanted us Arcanes kept under wraps and quiet.
“Hey, Li. How’s the grandkids?” I asked.
“Insane and bringing me constant joy.” His voice was as grumpy as ever. After a pause, he continued. “But it’s not the little monsters I want to talk to you about.” (continue reading…)