Weird Heroes, Book 3: The Black Brotherhood

By Josh Reynolds

Featuring a new strange protagonist from one story to the next, Joshua Reynolds’ WEIRD HEROES continues with a tale of horror and dashing daring do featuring one of Reynold’s most popular characters! Ride along with Royal Occultist Charles St. Cyprian and his able bodied companion, Ebe Gallowglass, as they confront the secrets of THE BLACK BROTHERHOOD!

WEIRD HEROES: THE BLACK BROTHERHOOD is the third short story installment of Joshua Reynolds’ Weird Heroes, a Pro Se Single Shot Single Signature series.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Pro Se Press
• Release date: Jan 27, 2017
• ISBN: 9781370041008

Book preview

WEIRD HEROES:

THE BLACK BROTHERHOOD

By

Josh Reynolds

Published by Pro Se Press at Smashwords

WEIRD HEROES: THE BLACK BROTHERHOOD

A Pro Se Productions Publication

Part of the SINGLE SHOTS SIGNATURE line

All rights reserved under U.S. and International copyright law. This book is licensed only for the private use of the purchaser. May not be copied, scanned, digitally reproduced, or printed for re-sale, may not be uploaded on shareware or free sites, or used in any other manner without the express written permission of the author and/or publisher. Thank you for respecting the hard work of the author.

Written by Josh Reynods

Editing by David Farris

Cover by Jeffrey Hayes

Book Design by Marzia Marina

www.prose-press.com

WEIRD HEROES: THE BLACK BROTHERHOOD

Copyright © 2017 Josh Reynolds

The black Crossley 20/25 slid through the rain-swept streets of Hampstead Village like a ghost. The canvas roof wobbled and rustled with the steady downpour, and sheets of water poured down the windscreen. Charles St. Cyprian hunched forward in the driver’s seat, peering ahead at the houses to either side of the street. Almost there, I should think, he said.

A muffled grunt was the only reply his assistant gave. Ebe Gallowglass sat slumped in her seat, arms crossed, head bowed, and feet pressed to the windscreen. St. Cyprian glanced at her. He was fairly certain that she wasn’t asleep, but risked a prodding finger regardless. Up and at them, Ms. Gallowglass. The whistle has been blown, and it’s almost time to go over the top.

It’s two in the morning, she growled, swatting his finger aside. How can you be so blasted cheery?

Clean living and an appreciation for legal stimulants, he said. He poked her again. There’s coffee in the thermos. Drink up.

She slapped ineffectually at his hand and yawned widely, exposing her teeth in a distinctly and disconcertingly feral manner. She stretched, nearly obscuring his already tenuous view of the street. Where are we going again? she asked as she plucked the thermos out of the travel basket below her feet and opened it.

Hampstead. Just a hop, skip, and a jump east of the eponymous Heath, and technically, we’re already here. I’m just trying to find the right house number. St. Cyprian craned his neck, scanning the street ahead. Phillip has atrocious handwriting, and he made a dog’s breakfast of the address in his letter. I’m going on instinct at this point. He glanced at his assistant as she took a swig of coffee. She made an indelicate face, and her cheeks bulged slightly. He feared that she was planning to spit, but the moment passed.

She sealed the thermos and dropped it back into the basket. That’s horrible, she said, smacking her lips unhappily.

Well, to be honest I’m not entirely certain it’s coffee, he said apologetically. It was dark while I was brewing it. It could have been ground up fennel for all I know. He smiled. Either way, it’ll perk you up, what?

She didn’t reply. He glanced at her, examining her in the watery glow cast by the streetlights as they passed beneath them. Gallowglass wouldn’t have looked out of place in a Soho dive or a smoke-filled betting shop. She was small, dark and dressed like a man, in bricklayer’s shoes and a flat cap. In