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

by Orlando A. Sanchez

  “They have been banned from use for over a century,” she said. “Energy like that doesn’t go unnoticed.”

  “What’re you trying to say?”

  “You’re growing in power and even used magic.”

  “That was unintentional,” I said, “and Monty’s fault.”

  She laughed and the room grew a few degrees cooler.

  “Ah, my guest is here. Please lay still.”

  She gestured with her hands. It reminded me of something Monty had done a few days earlier. I felt warmth in my abdomen and ten small orbs floated up from my chest. A figure appeared behind her.

  “Hello, Simon,” he said. “It is good to see you whole.”

  “Charon. I heard you were back on duty.”

  The orbs floated away from me and vanished into his hand.

  “Thank you,” he said and bowed. “The balance must always be restored.”

  “No offense, but I don’t plan on seeing you anytime soon,” I said.

  “None taken. I suspect it will be quite some time before I have to escort you, Simon.”

  He gave me a short nod and disappeared. The temperature in the room increased instantly.

  “You and Tristan have made some powerful allies and even more powerful enemies,” she said once Charon had disappeared.

  “That sounds like I should retire. As far as enemies, Chaos was pretty bad,” I said. “If we didn’t kill him, what did we do—send him on vacation?”

  “You did what some considered impossible. You destroyed his corporeal form. Granted you had help, but it is an impressive feat.”

  “How soon before he comes back?”

  I had this image of a pissed-off Chaos showing up at my front door and shredding it and me while I stood there in my underwear.

  “About a century, give or take a decade. Plenty of time to prepare.”

  “Prepare? Prepare for what?”

  “There are others you need to focus on. Some bent on starting another war, and some just hungry for power. You will need to confront both.”

  “Me? Isn’t that what the Dark Council is for?”

  She smiled and patted me on the cheek without rattling teeth from my head. “Some of them are part of the Dark Council. Chaos spoke truth—war is inevitable. We can deny it or prepare for it.”

  “That is an outcome I would prefer avoiding, if possible.”

  “It’s not. It will be increasingly difficult for you and Tristan to remain obscure. Once Hades returns, he’ll want to see you.”

  “Can’t say I’m looking forward to that,” I said. “I can’t help feeling he has some kind of agenda.”

  “There is a saying: ‘You can always judge a man by the loyalty of his friends and the quality of his enemies.’ You and Tristan have made a great deal of both.”

  “That’s good. Who said it?”

  She stood, returned the clipboard to its holder, and smiled at me.

  “I did—just now.”

  “I thought that was Oscar Wilde.”

  “And where do you think he heard it? I will see you soon, Simon.”

  She vanished, leaving me in the room alone with my thoughts. The sun was hinting at rising as the clouds turned pink on the horizon. It was going to be a good day.

  THE END

  Full Moon Howl

  A Montague and Strong Book 2

  “There are nights when the wolves are silent and only the moon howls.” ―G. Carlin

  ONE

  “SHE TOLD ME you could help me. I need to stop this tonight—before the change,” he pleaded as he gripped the edge of the conference table. “Before I hurt someone else.”

  I opened my mouth to speak and immediately regretted it. The stench wafting across the table sucker-punched me, forcing me to grimace as I held my breath. The smell hung on him—a shroud of illness that filled the room. Part of me wished Charon would stroll through the door or wall at any second and claim him, just to clear the air.

  The other part of me realized we were dealing with a real threat. A sick Were was a dangerous Were. The snuffling and rumbling from under the table told me Peaches was having a hard time breathing too. Only Monty seemed immune to the putrid miasma crawling across the room. If he smelled anything, his sense of propriety would never let him outwardly display it. He was English, after all.

  Douglas Bishop, our Were client, was a nervous, thin man of medium height. His pale skin glistened in the waning rays of sunlight that crept through the window. A worn gray suit, a few sizes too large, draped loosely over his body. He completed the ensemble with a sweat-stained off-white shirt and dark tie.

  He’d let go of the conference table and his hands were clasped tightly before him. He would clench them into fists after every sentence, followed by pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose. Yes, it was driving me crazy. A pair of silver restraints sat next to him on the table. I had silver ammo in Grim Whisper, and Monty as backup. Better to have it and not need it than the alternative.

  “You have to do this—before the change,” he pleaded again. “You have to reverse this.”

  “Lycanthropy is irreversible. It can’t be undone,” Monty said, flexing his fingers. “Weren’t you informed of this?”

  “Then kill me, before I hurt someone else,” Douglas pleaded. “Please.” His body seized and he coughed uncontrollably. It was a wet sound that went on for nearly half a minute.

  “Do you want some water?” I asked, but he waved me away and managed to get himself under control.

  “We have plenty of pests in this office, but we are not an extermination service,” Monty said, his voice hard, as he turned to look at me.

  “You have to help me,” Douglas said as a shiver passed over his body. “I can’t go out. I’m not safe—no one is safe.”

  “When did you first realize you were ill?” I asked through shallow breaths. “How long have you been like this?”

  “Since last week,” he said, and coughed again, hacking a glob of phlegm onto the conference table.

  My stomach clenched and I resisted the urge to revisit my lunch.

  “I’m sorry,” Douglas said while wiping the phlegm with his sleeve, which only smeared it across the table. “I can’t control it.”

  “This is what we get for listening to that vampire of yours, Simon,” Monty muttered. I watched as he stood up and retrieved the disinfectant and a cloth.

  “If Chi sent him, it’s important,” I said, taking my hands off the table. “By the way, what do you mean ‘before the change’? It’s not a full moon tonight.”

  “Doesn’t matter. I’ve been changing every night since I felt like this. Don’t need a full moon.”

  “You’re changing without a full moon? Only a very old and powerful Were can do that,” Monty answered, cleaning the table. “And you’re neither. This may have a deeper source. I don’t think it’s just some Were illness.”

  “Douglas, have you tried going to the Dark Council?” I asked. “They really are equipped to deal with this sort of thing.”

  “The Dark Council told me they couldn’t help me!” he yelled, pounding the table. “I saw them yesterday and they said it was hopeless, that I should just end it or have someone do it for me.”

  A low rumble crept along the floor from under the table.

  “Douglas, I need you to calm down,” I said, glancing at Peaches, “and I mean now.”

  He took a deep breath and sat back in his chair. I looked under the table again. Peaches was no longer sprawled, but rested on his stomach and focused on Douglas. He gave me a quick look as if to say “Can I have him for lunch?” I shook my head and he dropped his, clearly disappointed.

  “Sometimes the body can’t resist the turning and it has an adverse reaction,” Monty said, moving to the other side of the table. “Although I haven’t seen anything this severe. Have you been exposed to any strange magic?”

  “You don’t understand,” Douglas said, and I saw him convulse. “I can’t control it. Once I turn
, I’m a threat—a menace to anyone around me.”

  “I get it, and right now turning is not a good idea,” I said, pushing my chair back. “Let’s think some calm thoughts and see if we can solve this.”

  “It’s too late, it’s happening.” He clenched his teeth as he gripped the table. “You need to run. Get away while you can.”

  I reached for the silver restraints that were still on the table and attempted to put them on his wrists. I managed to get one on him and I received a hairy back-fist in return. I slid down the conference table and over the end.

  I got to my feet and saw Douglas convulse again as his body shifted and began the transformation. The restraint had no effect. He shredded his oversized suit and went full-Werewolf.

  “Monty, the restraint isn’t stopping the turn. Are you sure it isn’t a full moon? You didn’t schedule to meet a sick Were during a full moon, did you?”

  “No,” Monty answered as he stepped back. “I wouldn’t have scheduled this meeting on a full moon, Simon. This is a forced change and looks like dark magic.”

  “Well, he didn’t get the memo,” I pointed at Douglas as he turned. “And what do you mean ‘dark magic’? He’s a Were, not a sorcerer.”

  I didn’t want to shoot Douglas. He seemed like a nice person and had come to us for help. The Werewolf he transformed into, however—not so nice.

  The smell intensified with the transformation, which I didn’t think was possible. It was now an essence of wet dog with a side of vomit. His bloodshot eyes fixed on me and he snarled. Peaches answered with a growl of his own.

  “Hello, Tristan,” Werewolf Douglas rasped. “It really has been too long.”

  “It’s for you,” I said as I moved back. “You know him?”

  “I’ve never met him before today. Who sent you?”

  “Looks like he knows you.” I shrugged.

  “Oh, I do,” Douglas said with a snarl. “I’m coming and I’m bringing hell with me, Tristan.”

  “Much better in Tombstone when Kurt Russell said it,” I answered. “Why don’t you de-wolf and we can speak like civilized creatures?”

  “I have a message for you, mage,” Douglas said and raked a claw across the conference table—the very expensive mahogany conference table. Monty clenched his jaw, flexed his hands, and narrowed his eyes as he looked down at the marks.

  I looked too and saw that the claw marks were a design. It reminded me of crude Nazca lines. This one looked like a bird with wings outstretched.

  “Whom shall I say is delivering this message?” Monty asked, his voice grim. “Do you have a name?”

  “I’m going to start with the Weres first and then I’m going to erase all of the abominations,” Douglas rasped and coughed up more phlegm. “I’ll leave you and the golden mages for last, old friend.”

  I tried to breathe through my mouth and not gag. “I have a message for you, Doug—bath…posthaste. Seriously, the reekage is strong with this one, Monty.”

  “Do I know you?” Monty asked again as Peaches bounded out from under the table and lunged at Douglas. Douglas backhanded the dog across the room, which only made him angrier as he stalked back. Peaches, an offspring of Cerberus, was not your average hound.

  Douglas jumped over the table and landed next to me. He raked his claws across my chest and got my attention in a hurry. Monty hit him with an orb of air, which punched into his chest and turned him around. He recovered fast enough to impale my arm with his other hand. He pulled me close and nearly knocked me unconscious with his breath.

  “Douglas, would a mint be asking too much—ahh—?” I said as he squeezed his claws into my arm and pulled my face close to his. His bloodshot eyes gazed into mine as drool escaped the side of his mouth.

  “Behold, I am coming quickly and my reward is with me, to give to each according to what he has done. I am the Alpha and the Omega, the First and the Last, the Beginning and the End.” He then tossed me across the room.

  I managed to twist my body midair and caught a glimpse of him closing on me. I pulled out Grim Whisper and fired twice as I landed on my back. The rounds hit him square in the chest. The effect was immediate. He transformed back into human form and died several seconds later.

  “Shit, Monty,” I said, angry. “I didn’t want to kill him. The restraint didn’t work. Why didn’t it work?”

  “I don’t know.” Monty removed the restraint to inspect it. “These restraints are designed to negate a Were turning. I’ve never seen them fail.”

  “I hate that I had to shoot him, but he didn’t look like he was getting closer to chatting.”

  The claw marks on my chest and arm burned and itched as they started to heal. My immunity to magic extended to vampires trying to drain me and Werewolves intent on removing parts of my body. Still hurt like hell, though. I looked down at my ruined shirt and cursed.

  “This was a Balmain, Monty,” I said, pointing at my shirt. “I’m out a shirt thanks to a psycho Werewolf.”

  “He was unwell,” Monty answered, sounding pensive.

  “Is that what you’re calling unwell? He was infected. Like the other Were we chased down in the Village.”

  “I’m more concerned about the messages. That pattern of speech sounded familiar.”

  “If the restraint had worked, we could’ve asked him,” I said, looking at Douglas’s lifeless body. “I’d better call Allen. A dead Were is bad news.”

  “You had no choice, but you will have to explain this to the Dark Council, and your vampire.”

  “I know. I don’t think she’ll be pleased. The last part, that quote—the one he recited, I’ve heard it before. Sounded biblical.”

  “Revelation 22:12, 13,” Monty said, rubbing his chin. “Speaks of the second coming of Christ, according to the Bible.”

  “Douglas was being controlled by the Messiah?” I shook my head. “Somehow I doubt that.”

  “I don’t recall ever reading where he was a Werewolf,” Monty replied. “At least not in my studies.”

  “Then that means someone who can turn a Werewolf without a full moon is coming to pay us a visit.”

  “Sounds like an impending catastrophe,” Monty answered and made his way to the kitchen.

  “Is there another kind?” I asked, holstering Grim Whisper and pulling out my phone.

  “No,” he said. “I’d better make some tea.”

  TWO

  THE KNOCK AT the door was strong enough to convince me that someone was barely holding back from ripping it from its hinges. I heard some rapid cursing in Japanese and then another earth-shattering knock.

  “Simon, open the door. This is urgent.”

  It was Michiko.

  Yama, recognizing the voice, moved to get to the door and was stopped in his tracks by Peaches. The growl rumbling from his chest sounded like the subway had diverted to run underneath the apartment. Peaches had materialized in the center of the reception area, hackles raised and eyes fixed on the door.

  Monty had casually entered the room with a faint smile on his face.

  “This should be interesting,” he said as he leaned against the doorframe, holding a cup of tea. “Don’t you want to let her in?”

  “Seriously reconsidering at the moment,” I replied, giving him a look. “She doesn’t sound like she’s in a good mood.”

  Another wrecking-ball knock caused some of the dust to float down from the ceiling. Yama stood frozen, looking at Peaches. Georgianna opened the darkroom door and took it all in.

  “Come here, boy,” she said groggily.

  Peaches ignored her.

  “Sounds like your vampire wants to come in,” Monty said after a sip. “Rude to keep her waiting.”

  “Why isn’t she inside already? She never knocks.”

  “Simon, I see you finally took my advice and heightened your security,” Michiko said, followed by another rapid string of Japanese cursing. “Open the door now, before I destroy it.”

  “Shit. Monty, can you move Peaches
?”

  He shook his head and smiled again.

  “I need some biscuits,” he said, casually making his way to the kitchen.

  “Biscuits. Really? Did you hear what I just said? Are you not seeing the potential disaster here?”

  “He’s your dog, remember?” he said from the kitchen. “I didn’t bond with him—you did. Besides, how exactly do you suggest I move him? Fireball?”

  I looked at the concentrated fury of fur in the middle of the floor.

  “Stay,” I said in my most commanding Darth voice and pointed at him. Peaches didn’t react or even acknowledge me. He just kept his eyes fixed forward on the door. “A fireball may not be such a bad idea.”

  I walked over, unlocked the door, and opened it a crack.

  “Hello, Chi,” I said with a smile. “Good to see you.”

  “What are you doing? Open it,” she said and placed a hand on the door.

  “Not such a good idea. How can I help you?”

  “You can help me by opening the door.”

  I noticed movement out of the corner of my eye. I turned my head to see Monty move Yama and Georgianna to one side of the room. He waved me on to continue dealing with Chi.

  “We have a bit of a situation. Maybe I can meet you later?”

  “You did not just say that,” she whispered, slowly retracting her hand from the door. “‘Meet you later’? I don’t have time for this.”

  “Shite, duck!” I heard Monty yell as the door flew off the hinges and sailed across the room, taking me with it.

  A cushion of air caught me as I landed, sprawled out, on the floor next to the door. Thanks to Monty, I hadn’t ended up crushed to a pulp under it.

  “You knew she was going to overreact,” I said as I stood up. “So glad this is humorous to you.”

  “You have no idea,” he said around a smile. “Better warn her.”

  He pointed to the entrance with his chin.

  “Chi, wait,” I said, holding up a hand. “Don’t move.”

  She stood transfixed at the threshold. Her eyes were locked with Peaches.

  “We need to talk,” she said, never taking her eyes off the larger-than-natural dog-like creature standing statuesque and growling at her from the middle of the floor. “What the hell is that?”