Dragons & Demigods: A Montague & Strong Detective Novel (Montague & Strong Case Files Book 6)

by Orlando A. Sanchez

  He gestured and white runes floated from his fingers. A few moments later, they faded and disappeared. He gestured again, and a teleportation circle formed and vanished before it was complete.

  “Well, he wasn’t lying about the dampening runes.”

  “No, he wasn’t.” Monty looked down at the piles around the office. “I’d say we have about ten minutes before we’re facing reintegrated Einherjar.”

  I narrowed my eyes and noticed that the metal shutters that blocked the windows and door were covered in runes.

  “I’m open to ideas. If you can’t cast, there’s no way my orb is making an appearance. May as well stick a fork in us…we’re done.”

  “That,”—Monty tapped his chin—“is an excellent idea.”

  He stepped quickly to the east wall and stood in between two of the shutters, blocking the windows. He drew the Sorrows and let energy flow into them. They began giving off a bright blue light.

  “What is an excellent idea?” I shielded my eyes from the arc-welding brightness of the Sorrows. The wails from the swords were getting louder.

  “I’m going to insert the Sorrows into this section of the wall and set off a sonic resonance wave.”

  “That wall is marble.” I looked around the office. “All the walls are marble.”

  “Everything has a frequency, even marble. The Sorrows will act like a fork—a tuning fork. The wave will weaken the marble and then perhaps”—he looked back at Massive Peaches—“your creature can lend us his bark.”

  “You want Peaches to run into a marble wall?”

  “Not into—through.” Monty looked at the reforming Einherjar. “Unless you have an alternative, I’m open to ideas.”

 

 

 

  “This bark he’s planning to use is louder than what he did at the Tate. I’m not sure that’s such a good—”

  “Simon, we’re running out of time.”

  “Fine. If he demolishes the building, it’s your fault.”

  “He’s your hellhound.” Monty looked at Peaches. “Can he do it?”

  I crouched down and rubbed Peaches’ flanks.

 

 

  “Peaches agrees. As long as the stone is weak, he thinks he can break through.” I looked down at my hellhound and rubbed his head. “Monty, make sure that wave works.”

  Monty nodded and stepped to the wall. “On my signal, make sure he runs in between the swords.” Monty lunged forward and buried the Sorrows in the marble easily. Still holding them, he whispered something under his breath and took several steps back.

 

 

  The piles of Einherjar dust were almost reformed. The wails of the Sorrows increased in pitch and volume. I saw Peaches’ eyes glow red as cracks formed in the marble. He fired his omega beams, knocking off a chunk of the marble wall. He pushed off with his hind legs, cracking the floor, and bounded at the wall head-first.

  SEVENTEEN

  OUT OF THE corner of my eye, I saw the first Einherjar stand. He extended an arm and caught a battle-axe. Peaches ran at the wall, unleashing a bark that brought me to my knees. The shockwave from the bark smashed the Einherjar into a wall, reverting it to dust again.

  I pressed the main bead on my mala bracelet, formed my shield, and crouched down. Monty slid in next to me while jagged marble shrapnel pounded my arm and flew past us. Peaches smashed into and through the wall, landing outside with a crash.

  I felt the tremors run through the floor as some of the other Einherjar began to stand. The sound of shattering glass filled the office.

  “There’s a good chance your creature just compromised the integrity of a load-bearing wall.” Monty removed the Sorrows from the wall and sheathed them.

  “How do you know it’s load-bearing?” I said, stepping up to our new exit and looking down at 5th Avenue below. “Could just be aftershocks from the initial impact.”

  Monty pointed to the other side of the office, and I saw the floor sway. “It may be time to bail?”

  I nodded and stepped through the gaping hole in the wall. It could easily fit a small SUV into the space and still have room on either side.

  “This building is old.” I looked at the outside of the Hybrid. “Maybe it was due a renovation?”

  “Not like your creature has given them a choice.”

  Monty leaped off the parapet wall that encircled the second floor. He landed silently and looked up at me before walking to the Dark Goat. Peaches, back to normal size, sat on his haunches and waited for me to come down.

  All around the Hybrid, I heard alarms going off. The metal shutters tried to rise, but the frames were skewed and no longer square, causing them to get stuck in their tracks. Red strobe lights shone into the night all around the property. I peeked back into Castor’s office and saw two more of the Einherjar had reformed.

  “Time to bail,” I said and jumped off the ledge of the second story. I landed next to Peaches, who padded next to me as we walked rapidly to the Dark Goat.

 

 

 

  Peaches stopped and howled into the night.

 

  I opened the back door, and Peaches bounded in, rocking the Dark Goat. I turned back to see Castor stepping quickly out of the Hybrid with a group of men in combat armor. None of them were Einherjar. He had a phone to his ear and stared sharp poison-tipped daggers at me. I waved as I jumped into the Dark Goat and pulled away.

  I heard a deep rumble and looked into the rear-view mirror to see more of the Hybrid collapse and fall into the street. I headed downtown on 5th Avenue to get my amazing hellhound his pastrami special.

  “Can you call him?” Monty adjusted his seatbelt.

  “Why aren’t we being chased by Einherjar right now?”

  “Whoever summoned them interlaced a containment component to the spell. They must stay within the walls of the Hybrid. If they were to step outside of the property they would most likely return to Valhalla.”

  “That sounds like it takes some serious power.” I swerved around some yellow moving deathtraps otherwise known as NYC taxicabs. “Who could do that? Wait, call who?”

  “George Rott. Call him.”

  “I don’t have a number for him.” Then I remembered his last call. Even though the number was unknown and blocked, I had a way. “I know someone who might, though.”

  I dialed the only one who could help. The Hack.

  The call took a few moments as it bounced across several sites and then piggybacked on another line in a backhaul. From there, it jumped to a T3 line and rerouted the call, repeating the process several times. Hack had tried to explain it to me one time. All I got was that it made it impossible to trace the call.

  He picked up after a long silence.

  “Simon, Simon, you’re back. You were dark, and now you’re not. You were cold, and now you’re hot. So hot…too hot. They’re looking for you, the hot ones.”

  “Hello, Hack.” I knew better than to try to understand any of what he said. Some days his hackspeech was clear and almost lucid, other days it just sounded like random words strung together. I needed to get right to the point. The Hack never stayed on the phone long. “I need a number and an address, if you can back-trace it from a call.”

  “Date and time? We’re all running out of time, Simon. It’s getting so hot…so hot.”

  I gave him the date and time of George’s call.


  “Let me digest this. I’ll send you the information. Hack out!”

  I hung up and pocketed the phone.

  “How is your friend doing these days? He still sounds quite deranged. Is he getting enough oxygen on the planet he inhabits?”

  “Hack is one of the most dangerous cybercriminals I’ve ever encountered. Every three-letter agency on the planet fears, admires, and wants to capture him. He may be a little off, but his info is always solid.”

  “A little off? Your Hack is beyond a little off.”

  “He kept mentioning being hot. Do you think it has something to do with dragons?”

  Monty rubbed his chin. “I would imagine even someone who exists in a dimension of his own making could be aware of the shifts in power, even if he’s off—or perhaps because he’s off.”

  “We’re all a little off. Hack just doesn’t like going outside, or people, or conversations lasting longer than twenty seconds. Okay, he may be more than a little off.”

  Monty nodded and looked out the window.

  “How much heat are we looking at for the redecoration of the Hybrid?”

  “Pollux will be livid. The Hybrid is sacred to him, and we just destroyed a large section of it. I’m sure that whatever he’s planning with this Sal individual has just become personal for us.”

  “Wonderful, I’ve always wanted pissed-off demigods after me.”

  “I’d say you’ve acquired quite an assortment of angry beings who would like to see you eliminated. Well done.”

  “Was that supposed to be encouragement? Maybe you should take up demotivational speaking?”

  “Are we headed to Ezra’s?”

  I nodded and pointed behind me with a thumb. “Figured he earned his meal this time. We have some time before Hack calls back.”

  I looked in the rear-view mirror at the semi-dozing monstrosity taking up all of the backseat.

  “He did earn this meal.” Monty glanced back. “I’m curious why his runes weren’t dampened in Castor’s office. He was still able to go interstitial and increase his mass.”

  “Well, he’s not a mage. It’s possible his abilities have a different source.”

  Monty stared at me as I parked in front of Ezra’s Deli. “That’s not entirely a bad theory. It could be the runes on his body derive their power from an older, more obscure pool of power.”

  “Or, and this is just my theory, it could be that all that magic meat he eats imbues him with latent sausage magic that refuses to be dampened.”

  “Sausage magic?” Monty shook his head and got out. “I should’ve known it was too coherent to be true.”

  “Are you going to eat? You know Ezra is going to say you’ve lost weight.”

  “He’s worse than Nana. I could use a cuppa. Whatever they were trying to pass off as tea at the Hybrid was a monumental failure.”

  Peaches unsprawled as I opened the back door and headed for the deli before either of us. He sat in front of the door, patiently vibrating with delight and anticipation.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

  I shook my head and closed the door.

  I put my thumb on the door handle and heard the doors lock. The familiar sound of a hammer striking an anvil came from under the hood. An orange and violet glow flashed over the Goat and faded slowly.

  “Could be you don’t have refined demigod taste buds.” I pushed opened the door to the deli. “It’s possible you can’t physically experience the sublime greyness of the Earl Grey at the Hybrid.”

  “It wasn’t tea. It was swill.”

  I stepped inside and took a moment to absorb the place. Peaches strode in and made a beeline for the table in the corner where an old man sat alone. At first glance, he appeared to be an old Jewish scholar. The yarmulke he wore was covered in runes that gave off a faint glow.

  Ezra was dressed in his usual white shirt with black pants and black vest. He was poring over a thick book and sipping tea. Monty approached the table and pulled out a chair. I hung back to enjoy the bustling energy of the place.

  Photos of celebrities covered the walls. Small tables, which sat four, filled most of the floor space. Some of the tables were occupied with patrons either eating or having lively conversations, even at this hour.

  Ezra kept the place open twenty-four hours a day. A large wooden counter ran across one wall with men behind it who were serving drinks and food. He looked up from his book and signaled to a waiter, who came over immediately.

  “Pastrami and eggs for him”—he pointed at me—“and twenty pounds of pastrami for the puppy, in his special bowl. Also, a cup of our best Earl Grey for his partner. Steeped for four minutes, not a second more.”

  “Ezra, it’s the middle of the night. Pastrami, and eggs?”

  “You’re looking thin. How was London?”

  “Memorable and enlightening.”

  “So I heard, shieldbearer.” Ezra placed his hands on the table and looked at Monty. “It pained me to escort your father so early. I’m sorry for your loss, he loved you very much, but it was his time. Are you sure you won’t have something to eat?”

  “Thank you for your sentiment. It’s profound coming from you.”

  Ezra waved Monty’s words away.

  “No food, then?”

  “That cup of your best Earl Grey sounds spot on, thank you.”

  “Suit yourself, but you could stand to eat some more. We have a vegetarian and vegan menu here.” Ezra shrugged. “Mostly leaves, beans, and that white square stuff that isn’t meat. What’s it called…toe food?”

  “Tofu?”

  “That’s what I said, toe food.”

  I was about to answer, when a waiter came out with a large titanium bowl full of steaming pastrami and put it on the floor in front of Peaches. He smelled the bowl and proceeded to devour the meat. A few minutes later, my plate arrived, and I followed Peaches’ example with a little less abandon. I actually managed to chew my food before inhaling it.

  Another waiter came out with a small tray and a cup of tea with lemons on the side. He placed the tray in front of Monty, who proceeded to inhale the aroma before taking a sip and closing his eyes in gratitude.

  “Now, this…this is tea,” Monty said with a groan. “How do you do this?”

  “Like anything else, practice.”

  “Really?” I shook my head at Monty. “Do you need some privacy with your tea?”

  Ezra glanced over at the black-hole pastrami-vacuum known as Peaches and petted him on the head. No one else ever touched Peaches while he ate. It was a good way to lose an arm or two. Pastrami went a long way with my hellhound.

  “Your bond has grown since I last saw you two.” Ezra narrowed his eyes at me. “Not the only bond you’ve been working on I see, good.”

  “He’s done some serious growing, that’s for sure. In London he grew to the size of a small bus.”

  “He’ll do that and more. Who did you find to make him a collar of entropy stones?”

  “TK Tush from Fordey Boutique.”

  “Is there another TK out there I don’t know about?” Ezra said with a smile and ran his finger along Peaches’ collar. “A regulator and temporal enhancer. This is good work. Is it working?”

  “We were just wondering about how it’s not affected by some spells or dampeners.”

  Ezra shook his
head and patted the top of Peaches’ head again. “This collar is a temporary measure.” He pointed at me. “Your bond is the real collar. You should get him some training and obedience classes.”

  “Obedience classes for a hellhound?” I said and chuckled. “Who would offer that? You?”

  Ezra nodded. “Actually, yes. My classes are not for beginners, but yes I have trained hellhounds, among other creatures in the past. Cerberus is one of mine.”

  “You’re serious?” I said in disbelief. “You trained Cerberus. To do what?”

  “Whatever Hades needed him to do. Specifically, guard the gates of the Underworld. Dead souls allowed in, live souls kept out. We never did work past that whole ‘honey-cake’ weakness.”

  “Death trained Cerberus.” I shook my head. “That would almost be funny if it weren’t true.”

  “As humorous as I find life and, well, death, I’m not the joking sort. Yes, I’m serious.”

  “You should consider it,” Monty said between sips. “Your creature could use some help. I know for a fact his bondmate could.”

  “We can discuss that another time.” Ezra patted Peaches again. “Why are you here?”

  “An angry father plans on making dragons pay for the death of his daughter. In the most violent way possible.”

  I filled him in on George, Cassandra’s death, and George’s vendetta on all dragons.

  “If he attacks dragons, he could trigger some nasty consequences and his premature death,” Ezra said. “Can you speak to him? Reason with him?”

  “Reason with him? Not likely,” I said quietly. “George isn’t really the reasoning type. He’s more the wrecking ball in the china shop kind of person.”

  “You may have a larger issue than your friend.” Ezra opened the book he was studying and turned it to face me. “This is hearsay, but there’s a rumor this creature has been spotted downtown.”

  I looked at the image of a handsome man wearing a sharp black suit with a pale blue shirt and a subdued patterned tie. Behind the man stood the silhouette of something larger and menacing.

  The man had pupiless gray eyes to match those in the large shadow behind him. His black hair was parted on one side and kept short on the sides.

  “Who or what is that?”