Montague & Strong Detective Novels Box Set: Montague & Strong Detective Novels Books, 1 through 3 (Montague & Strong Case Files)

by Orlando A. Sanchez

  His words impaled me where I stood. My eyes pleaded with Monty. “The Tiramisu Thirteen?” I asked, stunned.

  “No time,” Monty said, shaking his head. “Sorry, we can get some afterwards.”

  “You understand this is tiramisu with Remy Martin Louis XIII Black Pearl used as the cognac ingredient?”

  “We…have…no…time,” Monty stressed, pointing at his watch. “Let’s go.”

  “Piero, please express my extreme disappointment to Giuseppe at not being able to enjoy dessert,” I said, trying to sound contrite as I shot Monty a glare. “I’ll come back to enjoy the magnificence of his craftsmanship.”

  Piero apparently sufficiently mollified with my grief gave us a short nod as we approached the stairs.

  “Seems your vampire needed an alibi as well,” Monty said as we headed downstairs. He looked past me into the back of the room.

  I scanned the back tables, and there, sitting next to several members of the governing body, was Michiko. She wore a form-fitting black silk dress with red accents. She didn’t look my way, but I knew she saw me.

  “Let’s go,” I said. My foul mood at missing dessert only became worse after seeing her seated at a table full of bloodthirsty killers. “I don’t have time for her shit.”

  Her eyes narrowed slightly and I knew she heard me. I walked out, stood in front of Roselli’s, and took in the cool night air. Monty stood next to me and exhaled.

  200 Park Avenue was two blocks away. I checked the time. We would be fifteen minutes early. I turned down the block and started walking to the MetLife building.

  “Angering her isn’t very wise,” he said as he kept pace next to me. “Despite your feelings.”

  “Do you realize Giuseppe makes that tiramisu, only two or maybe three times a year?” I asked. “What we just did, leaving without tasting it, should be considered a crime.”

  “Let me get this straight; the tiramisu, not your vampire, is the source of your irritation right now?” he asked in disbelief. “Did you pack the ammo?”

  I nodded and handed him one of the Britenite B3a UV lights. About two feet long, B3’s were long black cylinders of titanium and heavy enough to double as truncheons. They were powerful enough to stun most vampires without killing them.

  “Not much time for recon. How do you want to play this?”

  “We’ll have to go up through the hotel and into the building proper,” he said, putting the UV light in a pocket. “The delivery will be by armored truck in the rear. We should be there when it arrives.”

  “How do you know all of this?” I asked, surprised. “It’s not like you’re keeping tabs on the blood banks in the city.”

  “The Dark Council is comprised of roughly twenty-five percent vampires. Keeping track of blood sources in the city is a prudent strategy.”

  “You’re keeping tabs on blood banks?” I said while strapping on my thigh sheath.

  “Only the deliveries. It’s good information to have, and knowledge is power.”

  “I need to get you a hobby,” I said, shaking my head. “Let’s go save a vampire.”

  FIVE

  NOTHING SCREAMED DARK Council hit squad louder than a bunch of people trying to act casually invisible. 200 Park Avenue had several entrances. We entered through the hotel lobby to blend in and make our way to the service entrance without being seen. Monty and I stopped in the crowded lobby and looked around. It bustled with activity except for the pockets of men in corners wearing dark suits. I counted ten broken up in pairs around the room.

  “They may as well be holding signs that say ‘proud member of the Dark Council hit squad,’” I whispered to Monty as we made our way to the elevators.

  “This group isn’t the Resolution Team; they’re here to prevent escape,” Monty said as the door opened and we stepped in. “Every entrance will have a similar group.”

  “Isn’t that overkill?” I asked.

  He shot me a look. “Are you serious? They’re vampires.”

  “But isn’t that a bit much for one five-year-old vampire? How dangerous can she be?”

  He pressed the button that would take us to the basement level. As the doors began to shut, two of the hit squad slid into the elevator and stood in front of us. The doors slid closed. As the car descended, I noticed they didn’t press a button.

  “What floor can I get you?” I asked as I held my hand over the panel.

  The guy on the left moved, but I was ready. He shifted to the side and I hit him with a blast of UV light. Vampires are fast—faster than I can track—but in a small elevator, there are only so many choices. The light stunned him for a few seconds while Monty set his clothes on fire. The vampire on the right opted for a more professional touch and pulled a gun. I swung the light around, forcing him to duck and miss as he fired twice.

  Monty slammed them with air and tried to force them against the sides of the elevator. It didn’t work and the charbroiled vampire took a swing at me. I didn’t dare use my gun—vamps were too fast, and I might shoot Monty. So I did the next best thing and jumped on him.

  The fires had gone out, thanks to Monty using air, but the smell of burned flesh filled the elevator. The recently cooked vampire grabbed me by the throat and shoved me against the elevator wall. I tried to speak but my vision was tunneling in and I saw spots dancing. Michiko’s words floated back to me about being immortal and still dying. I pulled my gun and emptied the magazine into the vampire. He smiled at me and began choking me harder.

  “Monty, do it,” I croaked. “Do it, now.”

  He nodded and made a quick gesture. “Sorry about your suit.”

  White-hot flames engulfed the elevator car, vaporizing the vampires where they stood. Monty had been holding back for fear of hurting me. The flames singed me, burning holes in my suit. My face felt tender, like after spending an afternoon at the beach, but I was unharmed. The itchiness let me know that it started healing immediately.

  “Thank you for not incinerating me,” I said, feeling my throat. “I don’t like wizards or any magic-users, really. They’re usually arrogant egomaniacs handling powers they barely understand. But you, Monty, I like, for some reason.”

  “Probably because I refrain from reducing you to ash where you stand. Like these two.”

  “Probably. Why would they attack?”

  “They must have recognized us from Roselli’s, or were given instructions to remove us once we arrived at the hotel.”

  “By whom?”

  “That’s a good question,” Monty said as he looked through the ash and found the medallions. Each vampire carried a medallion signifying his or her clan. They were about the size of a quarter and made of copper. “I don’t recognize this crest.”

  “That’s not Michiko’s clan,” I said, relieved. “What clan is that? I’ve never seen it.”

  “It’s not one of the European clans either,” Monty said and pocketed the medallions. “And it’s not a real hit squad. Their medallions are blank. That would explain the incompetence in the elevator.”

  “This is personal. Whoever is going after this vampire is settling a personal grudge.”

  “Yes, but with the approval of the Dark Council.”

  “Or at least its permission,” I said.

  “There’s something deeper happening here or your vampire wouldn’t have sent us. We’d better move quickly before it goes bollocks up.”

  Hit squads came in three flavors: the ‘smother them with pain and death’ variety that is a mob of dangerous but not too organized individuals. These were usually followed by the ‘I’m a total badass’ variety where the Council sends one or at most two elite total badasses to fulfill the contract.

  My least favorite was the coordinated badass team, which was usually a three-to-five-member elite unit that worked seamlessly with the height of lethality and efficiency. Thankfully, we were facing the first option. The pros: they were going to be easy to dispatch. The cons: there was going to be a shit-ton of them to deal with. />
  “Silver ammo did jack to that vampire,” I said, holstering my gun as the elevator doors opened. “I might as well be using rubber bullets.”

  We stepped off the elevator and headed to building’s the rear garage.

  “I noticed. Why didn’t you use your mark or activate the runes on the gun?” he said, looking at my hand.

  “Because I hate it, you know that, and it usually calls her.”

  “Stop being so dramatic. I doubt she’ll appear every time you use it. She is busy, you know. Maintaining balance and all that,” he said, waving a hand.

  “The mark is for those moments when you stop and take stock of your situation and the only response is: ‘we’re fucked.’ Besides, I figured you had this one.”

  “Your use of the mark doesn’t encourage her appearing,” he said. “That’s just your superstition.”

  “Three out of three. She showed up the last three times I had to use it.”

  “Could be she’s just interested in you. More likely she’s bored and likes talking to you. She may be the only entity in existence who understands the inner workings of that thing you call a mind.”

  “That’s hilarious. You’ve never had to speak with her.”

  “And I hope I never will.” We rounded a corner and saw the signs that directed us to the loading dock and deliveries. “I don’t intend to end up bloody daft—I have you for that.”

  We made our way to the loading dock, which was situated at the rear of the building. I peeked around one of the pillars. Around the dock, I saw more vampires hovering around the entrance to the building. They were moving into position. Some of them were dressed like office personnel and maintenance workers.

  “You think they’re waiting for the delivery?” I whispered.

  Monty shook his head. “More likely what it will attract,” he answered and pointed. “Delivery arriving.”

  A large truck could be heard some distance off and getting closer. The headlights shone down the ramp as an armored truck came into view.

  “They deliver blood in that?”

  He nodded and unbuttoned his jacket. “Secure transport deters from thefts en route. To vampires, blood is worth more than money. So it makes sense to ship it this way.”

  The truck pulled into the loading bay, opened its rear doors and all hell broke loose.

  SIX

  A BLUR SHOT past us as the doors opened. Then I saw Georgianna. She stood about up to my shoulder and looked like her picture except more on the feral side. Her eyes had gone vamp, which meant her pupils had expanded to cover the irises. It was probably to capture as much light as possible during hunting. I noticed her red hair leaned more to the orange end of the spectrum.

  One of the hit squad closed on her and she ducked under the attack and raked her claws through his midsection, bisecting him. He fell in two parts as she jumped back from two more of the hit squad when they drew their short swords. She snarled as they closed on her.

  “There’s too many. She can’t avoid all of them,” I said, leaning around a column.

  “She’s quite impressive considering she’s unarmed,” Monty said.

  “I wouldn’t consider those claws unarmed. They’re almost Wolverine-worthy.”

  “Don’t start. Maybe we can just wait until she thins the herd?” he answered, as the air around him grew warm.

  “If they hurt her or worse, I’ll let Chi know you wanted to wait,” I said as I checked the Grim Whisper. “I’m sure she’ll think it was a great strategy.”

  “Bloody hell, fine, let’s crash the party.”

  “You ready? Once I say hello, they’ll bump us to the top of the victim list.”

  Two fireballs formed in his hands and he nodded. I stepped around the column and began firing. Silver ammo didn’t kill vampires, but it slowed them down. The upside of using silver was that it took a long time for them to heal from the wounds. The downside—it really pissed them off.

  Fireballs sailed past my head as I ran to another pillar for cover. I looked at Monty and he just grimaced and motioned behind me. I turned in time to see two vampires close on me. I dodged a short sword aimed for my midsection, while the second tried to make me shorter by removing my head. I shot them both and blasted the UV light as they writhed on the floor in pain. Monty reduced them to ash as I closed on the armored truck and the target of the attack.

  “The Grim Whisper is useless, it seems,” Monty said as he joined me. “Use the soul.”

  I reached for the blade attached to my thigh but hesitated.

  “Can’t you just barbecue them all? It would be much easier than using this.”

  “My flames aren’t sentient, Simon. I’ll catch her too and then you can have that conversation with your vampire about why you didn’t want to use the one weapon designed for fighting supernatural beings.”

  “Fuck,” I growled, and pulled out the blade. “This is going to suck.”

  The black blade seemed to absorb all the available light. Some of the hit squad hissed as they saw it, while others cursed under their breath. Michiko had given me the Ebonsoul when she discovered I was immortal. Something about walking outside of time and it being appropriate. Her family had held the blade for thousands of years. She gave it to me for safekeeping and to scare the shit out of the remaining clans.

  Its real name, known only to Chi and myself, was kokutan no tamashi, which literally meant the ebony soul. I preferred the Ebonsoul because it was less of a mouthful. Its black blade was eighteen inches long and covered in ancient runes, of which Monty was only able to decipher half.

  It was created to fight beings ‘not of this world,’ was the best he could tell me after weeks of study. I only knew it was effective against any supernatural being I came across. I hated it. If I used it too often, I could lose myself in a haze of bloodlust, which made me worse than the things I was fighting.

  A hit squad member pounced, and I stabbed, ignoring the searing pain in my arm as he dug his claws into me. The Ebonsoul siphoned its lifeforce and fed it to me.

  I made my way through the hit squad slashing and cutting those Monty left intact. With each kill, I grew stronger, faster, and less human. By the time we reached the truck, I was almost as feral as Georgianna. I rushed into a group of three and slashed through them before they could react. Their lifeforce coursed through my body. I turned to face the remaining hit squad members, but they were gone. We were alone with Georgianna. I stared at the red-haired vampire in front of me for several seconds before the voice registered.

  “Simon, Simon, come back.”

  I heard the voice and a part of my brain recognized it. I kept my focus on the vampire in front of me, making sure she wouldn’t move. Motion from the corner of my eye caught my attention and I whirled on it. A man was talking to me, but I didn’t or couldn’t understand.

  “It’s me—Monty. Put the sword away. It’s done,” he said with his hands up.

  “Monty?” I said as I regained clarity. “What the fu—?”

  Georgianna jumped on me and knocked the Ebonsoul from my hand as we tumbled to the floor. I looked up, dazed, and saw her about to rake my neck with her razor-sharp claws. A sphere of air punched into her and knocked her back into the wall. I scrambled to where the Ebonsoul lay and sheathed it. The effects of its siphon began to wear off.

  “Monty! Don’t kill her,” I yelled as I approached her. “She’s not in her right mind. Georgianna, Georgianna, we aren’t going to hurt you.”

  She snarled at me.

  “She needs to feed,” Monty said and looked at the truck. “Keep her busy for a second.”

  “How do you suggest I do that?” I asked as she shook her head. “She doesn’t seem open to meaningful conversation right now.”

  Monty jumped into the back of the armored truck.

  “I know why she’s here,” his voice echoed from inside the truck. “Bloody hell, this was a trap.”

  “What gave it away?” I asked as I stepped back from the now focused
Georgianna. “The ambush or the elevator welcoming committee?”

  “Almost there,” he said. “Just need to bring this to body temperature.”

  “Great, but you want to come out here before I need to use the blade? I don’t think the UV light will do anything except make her angrier.”

  He leaped out of the truck with a blood transit container. A coppery smell filled the air as he tossed the container to Georgianna, who proceeded to drink the contents, not caring about spilling them over her face and clothing. She moaned with pleasure as she drank.

  “She seems to be enjoying it and calming down. Like a good cup of tea.”

  “Tea?” I said, staring at him. “You clearly need help.”

  He was right, though. She had stopped snarling and her pupils were no longer dilated to the size of nickels. She leaned her head back against the wall, closed her eyes, and sighed.

  “She should be regaining all her senses any moment now,” he said as he picked up some of the blood containers.

  “She sounds like you and your ‘spot of tea’ you go on about,” I answered. “What’s so special about this blood?”

  “Collect as many of those containers as you can and get her out of here before more of that hit squad arrives,” he ordered as he grabbed more containers and tossed them into a sack he found in the back of the truck. “The Dark Council is going to be displeased, which I think was your vampire’s plan all along.”

  I followed his example and placed several of the containers in the hard pack. I slung it over my shoulder and approached Georgianna.

  “How do you propose we get her out of here looking like that?” I asked, examining our blood drenched charge. “I’m sure the drivers of SuNaTran have seen worse, but she’s literally a bloody mess.”

  “I have my car,” she said with a slight accent I couldn’t place. “Who are you?”

  Monty and I both looked at her.

  “I’ll take the lorry and make sure they follow me,” he said, moving quickly. “You take her to the Moscow and keep her safe.”