Now for something (almost) completely different

I thought y'all (you guys? all a' youz?) would like a short snippet from book two? Maybe? A little?

OKAY!

This is from just slightly half-way through book two in The Stewards of the Plane, tentatively titled "A Calling Of Quarrels".

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LILY

Sam had no idea what we were up against, but I did and it wasn’t good. I really needed to tell him, tell all of them, about what I knew but I just didn’t think I could do that. Maybe ever – it would jeopardize my relationship with Sam, maybe even end it, and he was the first real thing that had happened to me since I left home. I sat down on his couch and waited while he came back from the kitchen with a glass of water and handful of paper towels so that I could wipe the mascara tracks off my face.

I regained a semblance of my normal self. “I went downtown today, walked over that spot on 8th where the reporter said they found G.’s body.”

“And?” he said, reaching across to put his hand on my knee.

“And it’s not the spot they found his body that’s so interesting as it is the spot it’s next to.” I looked at him, willing him to understand the gravity of what I was going to tell him from the strength of my gaze alone.

“What’s it next to?”

I sighed. “I found their lair.”

“Lair? What do you mean? It’s downtown Fort Worth for Pete’s Sake, not Bohemian Grove.”

I looked at him sharply, but he was almost laughing as he said it. He had no idea what I was talking about or what I was about to say. “Yes, it’s downtown Fort Worth. What do you think, bad things only happen in Dallas?”

“Nah, Houston.” He must have seen my irritation flare up because he quickly grabbed my hands to keep me from getting up from the couch. “Relax! I was just trying to lighten the mood. You came in here upset and I just wanted to see you let go of some of that.”

I stayed where I was, but I didn’t grab his hands back, exactly. I was feeling pretty bitchy, I have to admit. “Look, I’m not making this up. Either you want to hear about it or you don’t but either way, I have to tell someone. And if you aren’t going to listen then… then I’m going to Melody’s to tell her.”

“What?” That got his attention. “Okay, seriously. Tell me what freaked you out so bad.”

So I told him. “At 8th and Houston, where G. was found is a martini bar.” I watched his face carefully. He shrugged, I continued. “The bar is named Thompson’s.”

He frowned. “Weird coincidence.”

I nodded. “That’s what I thought, too, until I noticed the symbol painted on the wall above a blue-lit staircase that leads into the basement.”

“What like a secret underground club? Like in Constantine?”

“Yeah, just like that.”

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