Superheroes and Sorcerers

So, today, we have a preview scene from the latest Jake Sinclair story. It is currently unnamed, but I’m having a blast writing it. Just click the “More” button down there to take a look.

The door was opened, a minute later, by a man sticking a gun in my face. Samurai shit, can’t I go twenty mintues without someone shoving a weapon at me?

The man holding the gun had an intense face, all harsh lines and leering eyes. He had tattoos, an intricate pattern on his neck, and sleeves that matched the patterns. He was a were, I would be my life on it.

“Boss was expecting you.” The were grunted. “It’s why he send Vincent.” He had a gruff, Old Country accent. “You not get shot, right?”

I rolled my eyes. “If I were shot, and I knew you were behind it, you wouldn’t have a building standing around you right now.” I shot back. The were bristled with tension.

A laugh came from inside, a belly laugh from a man who knew how to use it. “Step back, Kirill. We would not want to upset the witch, da?”

Kirill backed off, gesturing for us to enter. We did. I let Kenzie first. I’d like to say it was because of chivalry, but Kenzie was packing the hardware, and she would know what to do if things went south.

The warehouse itself had been converted into office space. Desks and cubicles were scattered around the concrete floor, each with a were at it. At the back there was a staircase leading up to an office, but the lights were down in the office.

A man, a large bear of a man with blond hair, approached us. He wore a white undershirt and tan pants, and the only part of him that wasn’t covered in tattoos were his genial features.

“You are, undoubtedly, McKenzie O’Donahue and Jacob Sinclair.” He gave a curt bow. “You may call me Pavel.”

I closed my eyes for a moment. Must. Not. Make. Joke. “I’m here to talk with your boss. I’ve been hired to-” I got cut off again. What was it with people today and interrupting me and shoving weapons at me?

“You have been hired to look into the murder of Alisa Novika.” I looked for the source of the voice, a man at the top of the stairs. He was tall, his body lean and incredibly powerful. He descended the stairs with power, his every moment graceful and animalistic at the same time. He had dark hair, hanging around his eyes wildly.

And I knew who this was. I’d never met him before, but the simple fact of the matter was that I could practically taste it in the air. This was the Alpha of the pack.

This was Anton Craz.

Some of you may get the name reference, I hope?