Tombyards & Butterflies: A Montague and Strong Detective Novel (Montague & Strong Case Files Book 1)

by Orlando A. Sanchez

  “Did you secure the rune?” Monty asked. “You need to get that in a vault.”

  “Of course I secured it. Are you saying it was responsible for all this damage? Not him?” Ramirez said, pointing at me.

  “Well, a combination of both actually,” Monty replied.

  “We live to slerve,” I said, my tongue thick. “Do we send you an invoice for this or should we discuss that later?”

  “Get me an inventory of everything that was on the affected floors,” Ramirez said into his radio as he looked daggers at me and gave me the finger. “That’s my answer to your invoice.”

  “I’m guessing that’s a no,” I answered, looking at Monty. “Is that a no?”

  “He looks like shit,” Ramirez said to Monty. “Get him out of my face and out of my scene as soon as the first bus shows up.” He walked off, giving more orders as first responders started arriving.

  “Ambulances will take an eternity to get here. I’m calling Cecil,” Monty said and pulled out his phone. “Hold still, Simon.”

  “I am still, it’s the world that’s moving sideways. Is Robert going to get here faster than the carrots in the field?”

  “What? Stop talking. You’ve lost too much blood,” he said as my vision tunneled in and I laid my head on the cool pavement and closed my eyes. The sirens echoed through the early evening as the ambulances approached.

  “We can’t fight him, Monty,” I said as the fog in my brain started to clear. “Time to go on vacay. Far, far away.”

  “Cecil, send Robert,” Monty said, ignoring me. “Bloody now… Track my location… Good.”

  “He has Charon,” I said. “Has him hidden.”

  “Did he tell you where? What did he say exactly? Did he give you any idea what he took from the museum?”

  “He said it would be cheating if he told me. Bastard broke my arm and disarmed me in one move. I didn’t even see it coming.”

  “Did he give you any idea what he took?”

  “No. He just said he had what he came for. It didn’t sound good for us, Monty.”

  “I’m taking you to Haven,” he said. “The hospitals wouldn’t know what to do with you. Roxanne is expecting us.”

  “Heaven? You think the big guy would let me in?”

  “Don’t be daft, I said Haven not Heaven, and no, you are most likely on the ‘Do Not Admit’ list.”

  The black Phantom approached seconds later, gliding to our position and rolling to a stop. Robert stepped out as the passenger doors opened. He picked me up gently from the ground with Monty instructing him about my mangled arm and the wound in my leg. He nodded as he placed me in the rear and strapped me in.

  “Bobby, you’re good people,” I said as he tightened the seatbelt. “Monty, make sure he gets a raise.”

  “I’m quite adequately compensated, Mr. Strong,” Robert answered, “but thank you for the sentiment.”

  “Simon, Bobby— it’s Simon.”

  “Yes, Mr. Strong, sir,” he replied and got behind the wheel.

  Monty sat next to me with a concerned look on his face.

  “Haven, Robert, with haste,” he said.

  Robert pulled away and sped down Fifth Avenue for several blocks, clearing the cordon before turning east.

  “Monty, I’ll be fine, I’m feeling better already,” I said. “My body will handle this just fine.”

  It was true, the fog had lifted, and my thoughts were getting clearer by the second.

  “What? Oh, I’m not thinking about you,” he said, distracted. “I’m wondering why he didn’t just kill you.”

  “Excuse me?”

  “If he perceived you as a threat, why not just remove you from the board? He had ample opportunity.”

  “Your concern for my well-being is overwhelming. Stop now before I tear up.”

  “I’m not saying he should have killed you,” he replied. “I’m wondering why he didn’t. You were vulnerable and he had the means to do so. He chose to stab your leg and break your arm. It doesn’t fit…unless...”

  “Unless?”

  “We’re here,” he said. “Roxanne will have to break that arm again. I trust you’re ready?”

  “Unless what?” I asked, trying to press him.

  He always deflected when he didn’t want to share something unpleasant. We pulled into an ambulance bay and several medical orderlies waited outside with a gurney. Two of them hoisted me up, placed me in it, and began strapping me down.

  “Robert, thank you for your service,” Monty said. “Please inform Cecil we will be looking for a personal vehicle. Can you have him give me a call when you return?”

  Robert tipped his hat and pressed the button to close the Phantom’s doors. “Will do, sir,” he said and pulled off.

  “I won’t be getting into any vehicle if you’re driving, Monty,” I said as they pushed me inside. “Unless it’s a M1 Abrams.”

  “Duly noted,” he said. “By the way, the stasis lasted ten seconds, exactly.”

  “It felt a lot longer, especially when Chaos was ‘visiting’ me.”

  “That poses several questions. He was in the vicinity. Your use of the mark could’ve alerted him to your presence.”

  “Karma said something like that,” I answered in between the bounces as they wheeled me in. “That I should be careful because the mark would attract those outside of time.”

  “That doesn’t explain how he managed to enter the stasis and why didn’t Karma show?”

  “Still wondering that myself.”

  “It could be Kali created the mark as a beacon to alert other beings powerful enough to destroy you every time you used it,” he said. “It’s one theory.”

  “Sounds like her. She gets rid of me and keeps her hands clean.”

  “Hello, Tristan,” a husky female voice said, the sound filling the hall. “What happened?”

  “Roxanne,” he said, giving her a short nod and then gesturing at me and almost gushing. “The usual—Simon.”

  I broke out in my best rendition of The Police’s famous song and threatened to shatter all of the glass in proximity with my melodious voice.

  “That never gets old, Simon,” she said with a wince. “If the band could hear your horrific rendition, I’m sure they would ask you to stop. Or beg me to rip out your vocal chords. Most likely the latter.”

  “Hello, Roxy, how are you?” I said with a forced smile.

  “I’ve been better,” she said. She looked me over and gave Monty a sidelong glance. “As have you. Are you going around pissing off werewolves again?”

  “Monty missed you. I had to get hurt just so he could come see you.”

  “How kind of you,” she said and smiled. “How have you been, Tristan?”

  She was a tall, slim brunette with deep green eyes you could get lost in. Tristan never admitted his feelings for her, but I knew him well enough to see the signs. I never brought it up because the idea of being barbequed wasn’t appealing and he had a tendency to get all fire-magey when I brought her up.

  “I’ve been meaning to come by… I—we’ve— just been swamped with cases,” he said, nonplussed. His calm demeanor suddenly on shaky ground, I shook my head and suppressed a laugh.

  She placed a hand on his wrist and smiled at him. I swear he blushed.

  “Can you tell me what happened?” she asked. “I can see the break, which will need to be broken and reset, and the wound, which is almost healed. How did this occur?”

  Monty explained everything as he wheeled me into an operating room. The runes on the threshold flared as we walked by and sterilized us.

  Haven was the primary supernatural medical facility in the city, if not the entire East Coast. Located on 1st Avenue between 37th and 38th Streets, the massive facility was part hospital and part detention center. Some of the most dangerous supernaturals were held there.

  Roxanne DeMarco was one of the directors of the facility. She oversaw both the medical and detention centers and led the general pathology depa
rtment. She did her job with a ruthless efficiency. I’d seen her take down creatures twice her size without breaking a sweat. She was also the only sorceress Monty respected as a peer. Actually, she was the only sorceress he respected—period.

  After Kali cursed me, he brought me to her when he couldn’t find an answer. Between the both of them, they figured out what the mark did.

  “So you’ve upgraded to pissing off gods now?” she said.

  “It wasn’t intentional; besides, he seemed cranky when we met,” I said.

  “You have that effect on people,” Monty answered and then paused. He looked sharply at Roxanne, who nodded. “Did you feel that?”

  “Is it a disturbance in the energy that connects us all?” I asked. “You know a disturbance in the—”

  “Don’t,” he said, “or I swear I will hit you hard enough to cause catastrophic damage.”

  “It came from the detention center,” Roxanne said.

  “Are the security measures in place?” Monty asked.

  “Always. I’ll take care of Simon. Can you go take a look?” This won’t take long and I’ll be there shortly.”

  Monty gave us a curt nod and walked off.

  “You didn’t have to get rid of him,” I said. “You know how he feels about you, right?”

  “I’m concerned about him. He won’t listen to me, but he will listen to you.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Every mage has an energy signature. It’s as unique as our fingerprints.”

  “Are you saying there’s something wrong with his? Are you seeing something?”

  “That’s exactly it. I’m not seeing it.”

  “Maybe he’s in stealth mode—you know, masking it so he can’t be traced.”

  “He can’t mask it from me,” she said with a small smile and then grew serious. “Every part of him is open to me.”

  “Yeah, okay, thanks—TMI,” I said. “So his signature is fuzzy? You have to explain this masking to me.”

  “That’s just it. Even masked I should still be able to see some trace of it.”

  “What are you saying?”

  “I don’t sense an energy signature from him—nothing. It’s like he doesn’t exist.”

  “Are you telling me that’s not Monty?”

  “No, what I’m saying is that something’s off—” she started and then stopped.

  That’s when I felt the rumbling.

  “Those security measures you were talking about—?” I started.

  “Just fell,” she said, her face grim. “Hold on while I set this. On three. Ready?”

  I nodded and braced for the pain.

  “One,” she said, and broke my arm—again.

  “Goddammit!” I screamed as the pain shot up my arm and lodged itself in my brain like an ice pick. “What happened to ‘on three’?”

  “I heard the pain is less if it’s a surprise,” she said with a smile. “Plus we’re a little short on time.”

  “That’s a bullshit rumor and you know it,” I snapped.

  “I know,” she said, looking down at her watch. “You should be healed soon.”

  It was a good thing I was strapped down in the gurney, because in that moment I really wanted to punch her in the head. Then I remembered that she was probably as powerful as Monty so I rethought the strategy. After a few seconds, she undid the straps.

  “What are you doing?” I asked.

  “How do you feel? Are you armed?”

  I flexed the fingers of my recently mangled arm. The pain was minimal. I had full mobility and some stiffness.

  “Feels almost normal, just a little stiff,” I said.

  “Good, do you have your weapons?” Her voice sounded calm but there was an urgency in the tone.

  Yes, but why would I need—?”

  “Because the detention center was just breached and the creature coming this way is currently impervious to my ability.”

  “Excuse me? What creature?”

  The crashing that filled the room kicked my body into fight-or-flight mode, heavy on the flight. It sounded like the medical facility was being shredded in half. I ran out to the hallway and saw Monty in the distance come running around the corner. His shirt was torn off in places and it looked like he was bleeding from several cuts on his face.

  Behind him, moving almost as fast but twice as large, was something my brain couldn’t or didn’t accept. It was a large man in what looked like a hospital gown. He was covered in scars and muscle and looked enraged.

  “Strong!” the creature yelled. “Time to die!”

  It ripped off the doors and tossed them to one side as it pounded its huge fists into the walls, leaving large craters.

  “What the hell is that?” I asked in disbelief. “Why is he calling my name?”

  “That would be the creature I was talking about,” she said as calmly as if she were giving me the time of day. “It would seem he’s enthralled.”

  “Simon!” Monty yelled. “Run!”

  SEVENTEEN

  FOR THE BRIEFEST of moments, I considered pulling out the Ebonsoul, then realized that Monty was running away from the thing.

  I ran down the hallway and burst through a set of double doors with Monty behind me and the escapee from every nightmare I’ve ever had not far behind him.

  “We need to get outside, Simon!” he yelled as we rushed into the stairwell and ran down the stairs.

  I slammed open the door leading to the garage, when a tremendous crash filled the stairs. Judging from the rubble, it looked like it decided to leap from the top floor. The stairwell was full of debris, completely burying the creature.

  “What the hell was that thing?” I said as I caught my breath and approached the stairwell. “And why was it calling my name when it was chasing you?”

  “Stay away from the doorway,” Monty said as he began inscribing runes into the doorframe. “That is an ogre, and I don’t think that little fall is going to stop it.”

  “Little fall? It just destroyed an entire ten floors of stairwell.”

  “Ogres aren’t known for stopping. They’re single-minded creatures of destruction. Almost impossible to control, hard to defeat, and resistant to most forms of magic.”

  “Sounds like a perfect weapon,” I said, stepping back from the glowing designs he inscribed.

  “That’s what they were during the war, but I haven’t seen one since then,” he said. “Most of them went into hiding or real estate.”

  “Real estate?” “I said. “Ogres owning property?”

  Monty nodded as he added runes to the ground in front of the door and then backed up.

  “Ogres are shrewd when it comes to lairs and caves. They just upgraded to buildings. They are highly intelligent, contrary to their depiction in fiction,” he said.

  “Roxanne said it was enthralled. Did she mean like the sorcerers?” I said. “She said her ability wouldn’t work on it.”

  Monty nodded. “Seems this is Chaos again—where did he get an ogre? Why was it screaming your name? We’re obviously missing something.”

  “We need to find Charon. This situation is getting out of control,” I said. “I hope those are ogre-stopping runes?”

  “I don’t know any ‘ogre stopping’ runes. Those are designed to keep it in place in case it tries to escape the stairwell. I’ll call Roxanne and they can get a containment unit down here to retrieve it.”

  I exhaled, letting out the breath I didn’t know I had been holding as we walked up the ramp to the exit. I looked back over my shoulder a few times to make sure it remained trapped.

  “So it’s stuck there?” I asked. “The runes will hold it?”

  The ogre roared and broke the wall next to the stairwell entrance. It peered through the gaping hole and focused on me. It knocked down more of the wall and stepped through, shaking off dust and debris.

  “Unless of course it decides to just go through the wall adjacent to the runes I just placed,” he said. “Seems this o
ne is quite intelligent, or being guided.”

  We backpedaled up the ramp. I pulled out the Ebonsoul.

  “Monty, we can’t take that thing outside,” I said. “It’s too dangerous. What if it decides to attack others?”

  He rubbed his chin. “There is that possibility. What do you propose?”

  “We stop it here,” I said, “before it gets outside.”

  “Just the two of us?”

  “Sure, we can do it.”

  “Simon, I applaud your confidence, misguided as it may be, but that is an ogre. I can’t use all of my magic.”

  “Can it die?” I asked.

  “Well, of course it can die—”

  “Then we need to stop it. What, are you scared?”

  He nodded. “Shitless, because my brain operates with common sense, unlike yours.”

  The ogre began climbing up the ramp.

  “Common sense isn’t going to stop that thing. Can you use your black-hole spell again?”

  “An entropy spell—any spell—would be too dangerous. It might get deflected and hit you,” he said. “This one is going to require a hands-on approach.”

  “Wonderful,” I said as I began walking down the ramp.

  With each step, the voice in my head, which sounded eerily like Monty, screamed at me to run in the opposite direction. It’s a good thing I had practice rarely listening to that voice.

  “Strong, I’m going to kill you and then chew on your bones,” the ogre said with a snarl. “Then I’m going to kill your little magic fairy friend.”

  A chuckle escaped me. The alternative was I wet my pants.

  “Are you calling Monty a fairy?” I asked. “He prefers magical fairy being. He’s very proper, being English and all.”

  “Bloody hells, Simon, are you trying to anger it further?” Monty hissed at me. “I truly hope you were paying attention during your last lesson with Master Yat.”

  “Yes,” I said and started laughing. The ogre’s face twisted into a grimace and it screamed, charging at me.

  Master Yat was our martial arts teacher and one of the few people who knew about my ‘affliction,’ as he called it. He was a slight man of Asian ancestry and indeterminate age. His unassuming stature hid a ferocious fighter. According to Monty, Master Yat was a dangerous ally during the war. He was known for devastating attacks with his bamboo staff.