Walking The Razor: A Montague & Strong Detective Novel

by Orlando A. Sanchez

  “She said Monty was one of the original Black Orchid.”

  TWELVE

  “Bloody hell,” Jessikah said. “I think I’m going to need something a little stronger than tea.”

  “That’s going to have to wait. You were followed,” Grey said, putting his mug down and grabbing his duster in one smooth, practiced motion. “Too damned early for this, Strong. You realize I haven’t finished my coffee?”

  “Followed?” Jessikah asked. “By whom?”

  “Not you,” Grey snarled. “Him.” He pointed at me. “This doesn’t feel like your Orchid agents. This is someone a little higher on the food chain.”

  Behind us, a figure emerged. The young man was dressed in a black suit with silver accents. His eyes threw me off. The distinct pupils, elongated and vertical, shone with a subtle yellow energy.

  Grey and I both drew our guns. He was faster by a full second. Shit.

  “Who are you? You have two seconds,” Grey said, then paused. “Strong? Is cat-eyes with you?”

  “He’s with me,” Jessikah said. “Please put your weapons away.”

  “Strong?” Grey asked, still looking at the young man. “Friend of yours?”

  “I’m thinking I should shoot first, and ask questions later.”

  “Simon,” Jessikah said, exasperated, “this…is Ink.”

  The young man gave me a slight nod. His energy signature was substantial.

  “This is your…cat?”

  “Her what?” Grey asked. “Come again?”

  I noticed neither of us had holstered our weapons.

  “I am her companion and her weapon,” Ink said in proper English, sounding very much like Jessikah and Monty, “much like your hound and your blades. I’m always there when she needs me.”

  How did he know about my blade? I never mentioned having another weapon. How could Ink sense Ebonsoul?

  “Strong?”

  “He’s friendly…I think,” I said. “How do you know about my blade?”

  “Both of your blades are tethered to your energy signatures,” Ink replied. “You both hold blades of power. Although,”—he glanced at Grey—“his appears to be the more dangerous of the two.”

  “She’s a bit on the bloodthirsty, psychotic side,” Grey answered, “but she serves a purpose.”

  Grey holstered his gun and I followed his example, bringing the tension down to a nine from fifteen. Grey moved from behind the bar and stepped to the front door.

  I turned to face Ink.

  “Where were you when Richard wanted to blast her to ashes?”

  “She was not in danger from such a low-level mage.”

  “And now?”

  “Now…you are all in danger,” Ink answered. “The mage approaching this.”—he raised an eyebrow as he looked around—“establishment…is formidable. Retreat would be the wisest course of action.”

  “I think I liked him more as a cat, and I’m not a fan.”

  “He’s still as cheerful in cat form,” Jessikah said. “You just can’t hear him.”

  “I have enough voices in my head,” I said. “I don’t need another, especially not Mr. Cheerful over here.”

  “We should leave now,” Ink said. “Is there another exit?”

  “You want me to run from my home?” Grey asked. “You think I’m going to let some mage come into my house?”

  “Are those rhetorical questions?” Ink asked, moving closer to Jessikah. “If not, the answer is yes, to both.”

  “He’s not going to,” I said. “Grey, do you still have the sanctuary room?”

  “Upstairs, first door to the right of the stairs,” Grey said, while focusing on the door. “Do not make the mistake of trying the other doors. I don’t want to have to wipe up what’s left of you.”

  “Your job is to keep her safe, right?” I asked Ink. “You’re her guardian?”

  “Well, that’s an oversimplification of the myriad facets regarding my duties,” Ink said. “My tasks are clear. Her safety is paramount, and she is a Daughter—”

  “Take her upstairs to the sanctuary room and keep her safe, now,” I said, cutting him off. “You can explain your duties later.”

  “Absolutely not,” Jessikah protested. “I’m a mage and you aren’t.” She pointed to me. “If anyone should be taking shelter in some sanctuary room, it should be you.”

  “Not everything is as it seems, Miss,” Ink said, pulling Jessikah away by the arm. “I’m certain these gentlemen”—he glanced down—“and their hellhound are more than capable of dealing with the impending threat.”

  “Are you saying I’m not?” Jessikah answered, wrenching her arm away from Ink’s grasp. “Is that what you’re insinuating?”

  “I just think that it would be best…”

  “Shut it,” Grey said from the door. “She wants to stay and fight, let her. If she falls, we’ll honor her death. What we will not do, is waste time yapping when someone is on their way to dust us.”

  Jessikah gave us a self-satisfied nod. Ink sighed and shook his head. I turned to face Grey and drew Grim Whisper.

  “How bad is it?” I asked. “Can you tell what we’re up against?”

  “I’ve ascertained…” Ink started and promptly stopped as both Grey and I gave him a look. “Please, do carry on.”

  “Bad,” Grey said, glancing at Ink. “The cat boy is right. Whatever is headed this way is nasty and powerful.”

  “How do you figure we were followed?” I asked. “I mean…?”

  “Simple,” Grey said, “None of the Orchid that were here last night read this strong. You just told me Ezra sent you to me. Ezra’s isn’t exactly what I would call a secure location. The conversation could have been overheard. Did he mention me by name?”

  I thought back to Ezra’s and nodded.

  “Yes, he mentioned you by name.”

  “There’s that, plus the fact that your signature is one screaming ‘come find me’ beacon, if someone knows how to look,” Grey said. “Are you sure you don’t know the cause?”

  “Don’t know,” I said. “But if it’s going to attract this kind of attention, I better deal with it before I look for Monty.”

  “Sounds like a good idea,” Grey said, drawing his gun. “We may not get to speak later. When I went dark, or close to it, I needed to find a place that was familiar, a place that felt like home. Does Tristan have a place like that?”

  “The closest place besides the Moscow would be the Golden Circle,” I said. “Why would he need a place that felt like home?”

  “It’s the change,” Grey answered. “It will take him back to the deepest memory of the familiar before forcing him in one direction or the other. If he’s anywhere, it’s the Golden Circle. Now, move back.”

  We stepped away from the door and headed to the other side of the floor, near the staircase.

  “I still think discretion is the better part of valor in this instance,” Ink said, drawing two guns about the size of Grim Whisper. “But if we must fight, we fight to the last breath.”

  I gave him a short nod and looked down at my hellhound.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

  “How about we fight until their last breath?” Grey asked. “I’m attached to breathing.”

  “Fair enough,” Ink answered. “We fight until their last…”

>   An explosion rocked the front of The Dive. I turned as the door was ripped off its hinges. It hung, suspended in mid-air for a split second, before being launched inward. The runes were bright on its surface, as the large wooden slab of pain and destruction was cast forth.

  Heading directly for me.

  THIRTEEN

  Before I could press the main bead on my mala bracelet, and materialize my shield, Peaches blinked out.

  He intercepted the door, but it was a matter of physics. The heavy door outweighed him by several hundred pounds. He crashed into it head-first. His maneuver managed to deflect it, knocking it off its trajectory, but the impact with the door bounced him across the room.

  It tossed him into the area behind the bar, slamming him against the wall, before he fell behind the bar with a crash. The door caromed off my hellhound and punched into the wall, shattering into small, lethal pieces of runic shrapnel.

  Grey waved a hand, creating a shield in front of us and stopping the pieces from converting us into pin-cushions. I made to run to the bar, but Grey grabbed me by the shoulder with a vise-like grip, pulling me back.

  “I need to go get him,” I said, straining against his hand. “He’s hurt.”

  “He’s a hellhound,” Grey said, his voice grim as he held me in place. “The wood of the door just knocked him for a loop. He’ll be good, but right now he’s safer behind the bar.”

  “What the hell kind of wood was that?”

  I had never seen anything knock the wind out of Peaches like that. The pieces of the door, scattered all over the floor of The Dive, vibrated with a low hum of power.

  “Same as the bar,” Grey answered, holstering his gun, drawing a black sword, and heading to the now empty doorway. “That thing would have done serious damage if it had hit you. You must have someone very pissed off looking for you.”

 

 

 

 

 

  “That list is going to be hard to narrow down,” I said. “Can we block the doorway somehow?”

  “On it,” Grey answered. “Stay back.”

  Grey gestured again with a grunt of pain. Black tendrils shot out from the sword, filling the doorway and closing the gap, creating a door of dark, living energy.

  “What the hell is that?” I said, pointing at the doorway. “That looks dangerous and deadly.”

  “Dark magic,” Jessikah hissed. “Is that a dark gateway?”

  “You don’t want to know,” Grey said. “More importantly, someone just blew through my door like it was tissue paper. I have serious runes, Strong. Powerful, heart-stopping runes.”

  “Not powerful enough,” I said, looking at the new undulating doorway of darkness. “What could blast your door like that?”

  “Can’t think of much, short of a negomancer…or a god,” Grey said.

  I glanced over at Jessikah, who had visibly paled as she looked from the door to Grey with an expression of fear and respect. On-the-job training sucked when you were a mage.

  “Negomancer…like Beck?”

  “Beck couldn’t even scratch my door,” Grey scoffed. “Whoever is out there makes Beck look like a novice.”

  “So, it’s not Beck?”

  “Not even close,” Grey said. “You piss off any gods lately?”

  “That a serious question?” I asked, staring at Grey. “Are we talking about today, or in general?”

  “Do I sound like I’m joking?” Grey answered. “Today, as in the last twenty-four hours.”

  “Perhaps now would be a good time for that sanctuary area?” Ink asked. “The integrity of this level seems to have been compromised.”

  “Anything that can get through that door that fast will make short work of the runes upstairs,” Grey snapped. “This is the safest place in the building.”

  Ink glanced at the doorway.

  “It doesn’t feel very safe at the moment.”

  Grey shot him a glare and then looked at me.

  “Strong, is this a god?” Grey asked, calmly. “Is Kali coming to pay you a house call? Did you do something to piss her off?”

  “It’s not like we hang out,” I snapped. “Why is it me, all of a sudden?”

  “Destruction follows you like odor on a skunk,” Grey answered. “Black Orchid don’t usually possess this kind of firepower. So I’m leaning to those who would want you eliminated.”

  “What about you?” I asked. “You said it yourself, you have plenty of enemies.”

  “My enemies are more the intimate type,” Grey said. “They would prefer to carve out my heart, not blow up my door.”

  “Wow,” I said, “I think I’ll keep my enemies.”

  “I’m fairly certain this wasn’t Black Orchid,” Grey answered, pensively. “At least not the three who were here last night.”

  “I don’t think it was a god,” I said. “The deities I know, and have the pleasure of pissing off, aren’t the dramatic type. They wouldn’t blow off your door, either.” I recalled my last interaction with Kali. “They just hit you with massive power and death. We’d be in the middle of a very large, very deep crater right now, especially if it was Kali.”

  “Hmm, then maybe it’s not just you,” Grey said, turning to Jessikah. “I bought us some time; not much, but some. What exactly did you do to the Black Orchid?”

  Jessikah turned her head away.

  “I’m Farsight,” she said after a moment.

  “Good for you,” Grey said. “Get some glasses? How does that help us?”

  “She can see three seconds into the future,” I clarified. “Farsight, not farsighted.”

  “You’re a precog?” Grey asked. “Rare, sure, especially among mages, but why would that get you killed?”

  Jessikah glanced over at Ink. The realization slowly dawned on Grey’s face.

  “You’re a Daughter of Bast?”

  She nodded.

  “Well…that explains some of this. No wonder they want you dead.” He cursed under his breath. “Someone is out there with your friends. They weren’t here last night just looking for Tristan.”

  “They probably were,” she answered quickly, “but it would seem they were testing your defenses, looking for weaknesses.”

  “It would seem?” Grey asked, getting angry. “I’d say it would seem…damn. Black Orchid and a Daughter of Bast? I should’ve stayed in bed today.”

  He took a deep breath and let it out slow, calming himself down.

  “They knew I would come here,” she said, “eventually.”

  “Right, and you’re supposed to die in the line of duty.”

  Jessikah nodded.

  “I believe that’s the plan,” Jessikah said, looking around. “What better place than in the lair of a dark mage while searching for another?”

  “This is not a lair. This is my home, and that door was expensive, not to mention the rune work. Still, I didn’t think the Orchid had that kind of…”

  Something flew through the dark tendrils covering the doorway with a scream, and impacted forcefully against the far wall with a wet, sick sound. The mangled mess that made it through the tendrils vaguely resembled a human. I walked over to the remains to get a better look, but there wasn’t much to see.

  “Whoever that was, they went quick,” I said, stepping around the blood and bits of bone, looking at Jessikah. “You recognize him?”

  “That…that was one of…”Jessikah started but couldn’t finish. “That was Henry. He was a Black Orchid agent.”

  “Not anymore,” I said, crouching down to get a better look. “Was Henry powerful enough to disintegrate the door?”

  “No,” Jessikah said. “I don’t know. He was strong.”

  I stood and turned to Grey.

  “What the hell ki
nd of dark magic is that?” I asked, pointing at the tendrils.

  “The kind that’s keeping me alive,” Grey said, narrowing his eyes at me. “That door is now a dark siphon. I’m sure you’re familiar with the concept.”

  “Not like that, I’m not.”

  “Nothing is coming through that door and staying alive…for long.”

  “Tell me you have another exit, some sort of emergency exit or back door to this place.”

  “Can’t use the back door. It’s sealed,” Grey said. “There’s another way.”

  “They killed him…Henry,” Jessikah said. “He was one of the—”

  “Henry is among the dead now,” Grey said, turning to the door. “I think you need to listen to your cat.”

  “Grey, I’m going to guess that the Black Orchid didn’t disintegrate your door,” I said. “That means—”

  “Whoever or whatever is out there, is looking for you,” Grey finished, his voice low.

  “Strong,” called a voice from outside. “I know you’re in there, Simon Strong.”

  Everyone turned to look at me.

  “Friend of yours?” Grey asked. “Something you need to share, before the dying starts?”

  I looked over at the dead Orchid agent.

  “I’d say we passed that part,” I said. “I don’t know who’s out there.”

  “You don’t know me, but I know of you,” the voice said. “My name is Talin. I’m here to deliver a message from Evers.”

  “I got your message loud and clear,” I said, glancing over at the dead body. “Did you have to kill him?”

  “Oh, that? That’s not the message for you,” Talin answered after a short laugh. “That was a message to the Black Orchid agent inside there with you. Her insult of a sect is going to be destroyed, right after we deal with the Montagues.”

  “Henry must have been tasked with surveillance after last night,” Grey said. “This Talin must have found him scoping out The Dive.”

  “Why do you say that?” Jessikah asked.

  “If it had been the whole team,”—Grey glanced at Henry’s body—“three bodies would be stacked over there right now.”

  I nodded.

  “You need to come out now, Strong,” Talin said. “We can make this quick and easy, or just hard and painful. Your death will bring us Tristan.”