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The Golem: A Montague & Strong Detective Novel (Montague & Strong Case Files Book 10)

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by Orlando A. Sanchez




  The Golem

  A Montague & Strong Detective Agency Novel

  Orlando A. Sanchez

  Description

  It’s uncomfortable between a rock and a hard place.

  When the NYTF reports that a golem, a large rock creature, is terrorizing parts of the city and destroying hubs of power, Ezra calls on Montague & Strong to investigate and stop the creature.

  Their first reaction is to refuse.

  Except there’s one problem.

  No one refuses Ezra, a personification of Death, without grave consequences.

  Now, Monty and Simon, together with Ursula of the DAMNED, must uncover how the golem was created and who would use it to destroy hubs of power, without being crushed in the process.

  What they uncover, will have them face a power beyond their abilities and make choices with dire consequences.

  Consequences they may not be ready for...yet.

  “When you’re stuck between a rock and a hard place, blow up the rock.”—Uncle Dex

  “What is misunderstood is feared, what is feared is eradicated. The supernatural and normal world can never co-exist without a veil between them. To think differently is foolish and naive; to work toward this end, self-destructive and fatal.”—Connor Montague

  ONE

  Monty’s phone rang as we drove downtown to meet Ezra. He handed me the keepsaker box as he reached for his phone. With the press of a button, he connected the call, sending it to the Dark Goat’s Bluetooth system.

  “Prepodavatel—teacher. You need to come to building. Now.”

  It was Olga. An agitated, angry-sounding Olga.

  “What did she call you…preposition?” I asked under my breath. “She sounds heated for an ice-queen.”

  “Stronk,” she said with her usual name-mangling. “Good, you are there. Bring Cece teacher to building—now. You have problem.”

  She ended the call abruptly.

  “When she says, ‘You have problem’, she means the royal you, right?”

  “I think she means any ‘you’ that doesn’t include her. Turn us around. She sounded quite upset.”

  “You’re concerned because she sounded upset?”

  “Do you recall how you referred to Olga when she convinced me to take on Cecelia as an apprentice?”

  “You mean when she threatened to deep-freeze The Moscow?”

  “Yes. It was a subtle demonstration of her power.”

  “Subtle?” I asked with a shudder. “I remember her freezing most of the table without so much as an eyebrow wiggle.”

  “She doesn’t seem the type to fluster easily,” Monty said. “Anything that gets her disturbed warrants paying attention to.”

  “Disturbed sounds about right,” I said with a nod. “I remember that convincing session. She turned her office into a fairly passable meat locker.”

  At the mention of the word meat, Peaches, who was snoring in the backseat in a mega-sprawl, opened an eye and perked an ear.

 

 

 

 

  Peaches went from semi-alert to full-devour mode, including the drool.

 

 

 

  I didn’t bother answering because I knew where the conversation was headed. Monty cleared his throat to get my attention. He somehow always knew when I was “speaking” to Peaches. Must be a mage thing.

  “You referred to her as the ‘ice-queen building owner’, which, in retrospect, seems to be quite accurate.”

  “You’re saying she is the ice-queen?”

  “Not the ice-queen, rather an ice-queen or dignitary,” Monty answered. “I’m still waiting to hear back from my contacts at the Golden Circle. It does make sense, though, considering her level of power and the fact that she owns a substantial amount of prime real estate in this city.”

  “Which would require serious wealth.”

  “More importantly, considerable influence. No one who has approached her to sell has been successful. She must be connected to the Jotnar in some way, or they never would have entrusted Cecelia to her care.”

  “Olga doesn’t seem like the type to fold under strong-arm tactics,” I said, making a U-turn on the Westside Highway at 23rd Street. “To own The Moscow, and keep it—she’s either a very effective business—woman, or dangerous. Or, more likely, both.”

  “Indeed. Which means we have a problem.”

  “You realize we’re putting Ezra on the back—burner to address this problem with Olga,” I said, stepping down on the accelerator.

  “I’m afraid we don’t have a choice,” Monty said, glancing at me. “Ezra will have to wait. Hurry.”

  TWO

  We were two blocks away from The Moscow when I felt the chill in the air.

  “What the hell is that?” I asked with a shudder. “Feels like we just drove into the Arctic.”

  “I believe that is our problem,” Monty answered, pointing ahead. “Not quite the Arctic, but close.”

 

 

 

 

 

  I almost turned in surprise at this statement.

 

 

 

  “Stop the car,” Monty said. “Bloody hell.”

  I stopped the Dark Goat about half a block away. My eyes were registering the image, but my brain was having a hard time processing it. There was ice everywhere.

  “Is that our building?”

  “Yes. It would seem it has undergone some alterations.”

  “Alterations? We now live in the Fortress of Solitude. Are you telling me little Cece—?”

  “Cecelia, apparently, is only little in stature, not power,” Monty said. “This is a significant shift.”

  “Significant, how?”

  “She is an ice mage from a Jotnar bloodline,” Monty said, peering at The Moscow. “I didn’t expect a shift of this magnitude for at least two or three decades.”

  “Decades? Are you saying she’s going to get even stronger?”

  “Quite,” Monty said with a nod. “Jotnar ice mages can achieve Archmage levels early. I just didn’t expect it this soon.”

  “Are you telling me Cece is an Archmage?”

  “No, don’t be daft. If she were at that level of power and lost control, the building and most of the surrounding area, would have been reduced to rubble, and Olga would be hunting us down.”

  “Not a scenario I want to visit, thanks,” I said, admiring the Arctic wasteland forming around us. “She’s doing this from inside the building?”

  “Yes,” Monty answered. “It seems her ability has targeted the moisture in the air. We need to get to her. If she’s shifting, this will get worse before it gets better.”

  “Worse, really? I think
we’ve skated past worse long ago. See what I did there?”

  “Ice metaphors—droll,” Monty said, exiting the Dark Goat and forming a flame orb. “Your wit never ceases to disappoint.”

  “Thank you—I think?”

  “This has escalated considerably,” Monty said, looking around. “How are you with extreme cold?”

  “How extreme?”

  “Think Arctic in the winter.”

  “I don’t make a habit of visiting the Arctic, winter or otherwise, and I left my parka in the icicle we call our home. I’m going to go with: I freeze my ass off in extreme cold?”

  Monty nodded. “I assumed your curse would offer some measure of protection,” he said, gesturing. Small orbs of flame floated in my direction, enveloping me in a cocoon of warmth. “That should keep you homeostatic.”

  “Homo what?”

  “Homeo—never mind. It will keep you warm and comfortable.”

  “Why would you assume my curse would keep me warm? It deals with damage, not temperature.”

  “What do you think happens to unprotected skin in sub-zero temperatures?”

  “Oh,” I said with the dawning realization of imminent death. “Hell.”

  “Not unless it’s frozen over. Let’s go.”

  I stepped out of the Dark Goat and peered down the street. The lower floors of The Moscow, including the lobby, were encased in thick, softly glowing blue ice. The sidewalk and street surrounding the entrance had been converted into one large sheet of that same ice.

  “How did she—?”

  “We have a more immediate concern,” Monty said, pulling on a sleeve. I could sense him gathering energy as we walked down the street. “Make sure your creature remains calm.”

  “Why would he need to remain calm?” I asked, then saw who was standing in front of the building. “Oh.”

  “Yes,” Monty answered. “Let’s not escalate this situation.”

  Standing in front of the building with arms crossed, glaring at us as we approached, was a very displeased Olga.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

  I couldn’t disagree with the logic.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

  I shook my head with a sigh and focused on Monty, ignoring my single-minded hellhound.

  “So, we’re trying diplomacy again?” I asked.

  “Olga is formidable. I’d rather not have to face her in battle. Tact and diplomacy are always our first options.”

  “If that fails?” I asked. “Not that it will, I’m just thinking about all the other times we tried to be diplomatic. Our success rate sucks.”

  “Let me do the talking. It may be safer if you and your creature stay back a safe distance.”

  “Safe distance? Like Queens?”

  “This is why you should stay back. She doesn’t seem to be in the mood for your acerbic wit.”

  “Her loss,” I said, letting Monty continue ahead, but keeping somewhat close. “This isn’t your fault, by the way. How could you have known Cece was a super ice mage?”

  “She’s my apprentice,” Monty said under his breath. “Everything she does is my responsibility.”

  “Can you take Olga?” I asked, making sure my mala bracelet and Grim Whisper were accessible. “Is she that much of a threat?”

  “Let’s not find out.”

  “She’s that strong?”

  “Stronger.”

  THREE

  “Do you see building?” Olga asked, glaring ice daggers at Monty and waving an arm in the direction of The Moscow. “Ice everywhere. I said no damage to building. This. Is. Big. Damage.”

  I felt that was something of an obvious statement, but kept my opinion to myself. I noticed Andrei, our doorman, and the valet who used to park our cars, were nowhere to be seen. I hoped they weren’t trapped in the ice.

  “Are you certain this was caused by Cecelia?” Monty asked. “This level of power is quite extraordinary for a child.”

  “She is only ice mage inside building. Now building and street full of ice. This”—Olga pointed at The Moscow—“is your student. You fix, now.”

  Olga stepped back from the entrance, giving Monty access. I stepped close to him, allowing Olga some space in case she felt the need to unleash some icicles of death at us. She gave me the same glacial look of potential pain she’d shared with Monty.

  “She is not a happy camper,” I said under my breath, glancing her way. “I’ve never seen her this pissed.”

  “Judging from the extent of the encasing,” Monty said, narrowing his eyes and examining the ice, “I can only assume the garage is completely filled with ice. It appears to have traveled downward before ascending.”

  “Can you undo this?” I asked Monty when we had stepped away from Olga. “She’s an ice dignitary, so why can’t she remove the ice?”

  Monty stepped up to the ice encasing the building. The soft blue glow pulsed with energy.

  “This isn’t normal ice,” he said, placing a hand on its surface. “It’s imbued with substantial energy.”

  “Really, what gave it away? The fact that it’s surrounding our building, or that it’s glowing?”

  “Actually, it’s the energy signature,” Monty answered. “I don’t think Olga wants to tangle with this kind of power.”

  “Is that because she can’t, or won’t?”

  “The latter. The energy structure beneath the ice is unstable. If undone incorrectly, it could destroy the structural integrity of the building, causing a catastrophic chain reaction within the interior of the edifice.”

  “That definitely falls into the damage category. Which means an angrier Olga. Any way could we prevent that? I like living here.”

  “As do I. I’m trying to ascertain the extent of the current damage without causing a collapse—not as easy as it appears.”

  “Can’t you throw up some ‘runes of building support or structural reinforcement’ to prevent the collapse?”

  “Battlemagic has a tendency to lean more toward the destructive, not constructive, side of the spectrum. This is similar to unraveling a tangled web. The wrong cast from the outside can set off the ice and topple—”

  “The building, which is currently full of people,” I finished, looking at the ice.

  “A building which cannot be presently evacuated.”

  “Why can’t we get them out? I’ll call Ramirez, and we can evac—”

  The sound of ice cracking shot through the night. I saw more blue ice had formed and crept up the side of the building.

  “Bringing the NYTF here will only put them in danger,” Monty answered, gesturing. A group of white runes floated into the ice and disappeared. “We don’t have that kind of time.”

  “Well, unless you have some kind of industrial blowtorch or an instant melt rune, this is going to get worse.”

  I looked at the ice slowly rising up the side of the building.

  “We need
to get inside and address this at the source,” Monty said, following my gaze upward. “The sooner, the better.”

  “We can just teleport—”

  Monty shook his head.

  “Too dangerous. My teleportation circle could create runic backlash. We need to be subtle about how we enter the space.”

  “What about Peaches?” I asked, pointing at my hellhound.

  “I said subtle,” Monty said, glancing at Peaches. “Your creature is about as subtle as a battering ram.”

  “True, but he can step in-between without a circle. Is that subtle enough to not set off the ice?”

  Monty looked at Peaches, who gave him a low rumble in response.

  “It could work,” Monty said after a pause. “Planewalking is similar to teleportation. He’d have to be able to bring me with him; that way, I can assess the extent of the damage and cast a reversal before the entire structure is buried under ice.”

  “Will you be able to stop her?” I asked, looking at all the ice around us. “Cece is just a little girl, but she’s pretty strong.”

  “We don’t have much of a choice,” Monty said, stepping back from the ice. “If we don’t stop her, the building is in danger, and so are we.”

  “From the falling debris?”

  “From an angry Olga.”

  “Good point,” I said, glancing back at the still-glaring Olga. “I think I’d prefer the falling building than dealing with her.”

  “Wise choice. See if your creature can pinpoint Cecelia’s location. If he can, he needs to take me—”

  “Us,” I interrupted. “Take us.”

  Monty raised an eyebrow.

  “Is he able to take both of us?” Monty asked. “That may strain his abilities.”

  “We’ll find out, but I’m not staying out here with the angry ice queen.”

  “Ask him now. We’re running out of time.”

  FOUR

 

 

 

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