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

by Orlando A. Sanchez

  “That—I heard. I meant the way you answered the phone: ‘impossible is nothing?’”

  “I’m trying out new taglines. I have a few new ones. Did you like that one?”

  “No. It was horrendous,” he said with an eye-roll and headshake.

  We left the living quarters and entered the reception area. Monty made a gesture and secured the door in place.

  “Maybe we could start a moving company,” I said. “With your ability and my connections—”

  “Do you have everything you need?” he said, cutting me off with a glare. “We won’t be back for some time.”

  “Got it,” I hoisted the pack on my shoulders, used to traveling light. “What about Peaches?”

  As if on cue, he materialized next to me and gave me a low rumble as I scratched his head. Monty looked down at him with a brief nod.

  “Somehow I don’t think he’ll let you out of his sight for any prolonged length of time.”

  “I have an idea about what we can do with him. Let’s go see Jimmy.”

  Peaches and I stepped out into the hallway and Monty closed the door behind us. We still had a few hours to go before midnight. Neither of us wanted to be here when the time came and the Council decided to bring Monty in by force.

  He pressed his hands against the door and then both walls adjacent to the entrance. The door flared white for a split second and returned to normal.

  “What was that?”

  “That was a temporal fail-safe designed to mark and stop anyone who tries to enter.”

  “You don’t have something that can explode and take them out?”

  “Only if you want to have a conversation with Olga about how the second floor of her building is missing.”

  “On second thought, stopping and marking is good,” I said, stepping away from our front door.

  We took the stairwell and entered the lobby. Andrei stood by the door and stepped back as Peaches got closer. Outside, I could see the valet had parked the Goat in front of the building entrance.

  “Dosvidaniya,” he said as he opened the door and gave Peaches a wide berth. “Have a good evening.”

  Monty nodded and stepped outside. I stopped. Part of me wanted to warn Andrei about our impending visitor, but another part of me wanted to torture him with Peaches.

  “Andrei,” I said, calling him over. He walked over reluctantly. “Someone may come looking for us. Don’t get in his way.”

  He nodded, the look of relief growing with each step back he took away from Peaches. I gave him a reassuring grin as he re-entered the building.

  “Why do you torment him?” Monty said as I opened the back door. Peaches jumped in with a bound that strained the Goat’s suspension, rocking the car as he settled in the back seat.

  Monty walked over to the passenger side and slid in.

  “Because it’s the little pleasures in life that make it worth living.” I jumped into the Goat and started it sitting for a moment and basking in the rumble and purr of the engine.

  Monty shook his head, rolling his eyes at my immaturity. “Shall we go?”

  Nodding I agreed. “Let’s go and see the Cleaver.”

  FIVE

  THE RANDY RUMP had undergone some significant renovations since my last visit. I parked the Goat across the street and got out, Monty and Peaches joining me a second later. I placed my hand on the handle. The engine clanged and the Goat flashed orange, letting me know it was secure. Monty and Peaches joined me a second later.

  The Rump stayed open all night, only closing for a few hours in the early morning. It catered to the early evening and nighttime clientele—which was most of the supernatural community. The Rump was also becoming a popular meeting place since the Dark Council declared its neutral status. It had gone from “butcher shop” to “butcher shop, restaurant, and meeting hall” in a few short weeks.

  Jimmy had moved the display case and counter to the other side of the room. Tables and chairs filled the remaining floor space. I looked around and saw some of them were filled with patrons who were eating and drinking. Jimmy was behind the counter preparing some sandwiches, and nodded when he saw us come in. He wiped his hands on his apron and came out from behind the counter, motioning for us to follow him.

  I counted five vampires stationed around the shop, two by the entrance and the rest spread out among the patrons. The Dark Council always kept members stationed in the neutral locations to ensure they remained neutral.

  “The room,” Jimmy mouthed and pointed with his head.

  “Do you sense an infected Werewolf around here?” I asked Monty as we moved to the back room.

  “No,” Monty looked around. “But the rune-work makes it difficult to use any magic in here. It’s impressive.”

  “What, dampening runes?”

  “Beyond that. Anyone who tries to use any magic or turn in here will be in for a rude surprise.”

  A few of the patrons gave us looks as we followed Jimmy to the back. Most of them were focused on Monty and Peaches. They could tell he was a powerful magic-user, and Peaches, from what Monty told me, was covered in runes, even though I couldn’t see them.

  The door and frame to the back room was made of Australian Buloke ironwood and according to Monty, magically inscribed with runes on every inch of its surface. It stood ten feet tall and half as wide. Over a foot thick, opening it was surprisingly easy if you knew the rune sequence. If you didn’t, you’d need the equivalent of a magical nuke, and that would probably just scratch the surface. Once closed, it remained closed. Period.

  The backroom of the Rump was considerably smaller than the front area. It consisted of one large room with three tables. Two of them, placed along the north and south walls were long and rectangular. Third table, in the center was round. Each of them had seating for seven. Each table was heavy dark oak inscribed with runes along their surface.

  One of the chairs, at the round table, was occupied by a young woman. She was wearing golden restraints similar to the silver ones we used against Werewolves. Her short black hair was peppered with streaks of silver. Her dark brown leather jacket, jeans were paired with rugged climbing boots reminding me of a forest tour guide, about to take us for a hike in the woods. Her eyes threw me. They were a dark gray with a highlight of silver that reflected the ambient light—unlike mine, which were just gray.

  “Jimmy,” I said, looking around the room, “what’s so urgent? Do you have an infected Werewolf around here I can’t see?”

  “Infected Werewolf? Who said anything about infected? I said she set off every rune in the place,” he pointed at the woman. “She asked for the mage.”

  Peaches rumbled next to me and fixed his gaze on the woman at the table.

  “Easy, boy,” I soothed, scratching him behind the ears.

  “Are you Tristan?” she asked, looking at me. “I need to speak to Tristan.”

  “You’re looking for him,” I answered, hooking a thumb at Monty next to me.

  She narrowed her eyes and nodded. “Yes, I see the resemblance.”

  Monty walked up to the table and sat opposite the girl. I stayed where I was because Peaches was in ‘pounce and destroy’ mode. He gave off the same vibes when we were talking to Douglas, right before his attack. I unbuttoned my coat and made sure Ebonsoul and Grim Whisper were accessible.

  “I need to get back outside,” Jimmy said with an apologetic thin-lipped smile. “Will you be okay in here? You should be safe.”

  I nodded. “I have a favor to ask—later, after we’re done in here.”

  “Whatever you need, let me know. I’m locking the door.”

  This meant we were on our own. No one was getting through that door, and if things went south, we would have to resolve it on our own. That’s what it meant to enter a room of reckoning. No magic, no powers, no special abilities. You go in, settle your differences any way you see fit, and walk out. No judgment. Every neutral location had one.

  “I’m Tristan,” Monty said, and o
utstretched a hand. “Pleased to meet you.”

  She took it and gave it a brief shake, a curious look on her face. His propriety had that effect on people, supernatural or not. I looked at the clock and saw we had an hour and a half before Monty was due at the Council.

  “My name is Slif.” She removed the restraints from her wrists, absentmindedly massaging her skin where they had been touching. “I have a message for you, from William.” She paused for a second. “Please tell your partner over there not to interfere.” She glanced briefly at me.

  I noticed Monty’s hands clench into fists on the table.

  “Tell me what?” I asked, stepping closer to Monty concerned by his obvious tension. He held up a hand, stopping me. “Who is William?”

  “William is dead,” Monty whispered. “I saw him die.”

  “No, you saw what he needed you to see, what was necessary at the time.”

  She stood and placed the restraints in front of her on the table. Her clothes fell away from her body and vanished as she transformed. A few seconds later I stood looking at a something I was told didn’t exist.

  I was looking at a dragon.

  SIX

  I MOVED FORWARD, pulled out Grim Whisper, and took aim. Slif was roughly the size of a small bus, including the tail. Blood-red scales covered her entire body and her gray eyes were now a deep orange. I was looking at a mini-Smaug, minus the wings, and my brain was having a hard time processing it.

  “You told me dragons didn’t exist, Monty,” I said through clenched teeth, trying hard to keep my hand from shaking as I aimed.

  “No, I never said that.” He was completely calm as he walked to my side, never taking his eyes off Slif. “That was Hades and, technically she’s not a dragon.”

  “That” —I pointed at the large scaled creature in front of us—“isn’t a dragon?”

  “It’s a drake,” he said, putting his hand on my wrist and lowering my gun. “And she clearly doesn’t want to attack or we would already be fighting for our lives by now.”

  “What does it want? Why is it here?”

  Peaches had upgraded from ‘pounce and destroy’ to ‘stalk and destroy’ and was closing in on the drake.

  “It wants you to settle down before someone gets hurt or dead,” Slif said and transformed back to human form. Her clothes reappeared and she sat down. “Can you call off your puppy?”

  “Peaches, stay,” I commanded, and he stopped moving forward.

  “Do you have enough to verify authenticity?” she asked, and Monty nodded.

  “What does this have to do with William?” Monty’s voice was tight.

  “Do you know what happens when drake blood is ingested by another species?” she asked, sitting down again and replacing the restraints on her wrists.

  Monty sat down and stared hard at Slif. “He didn’t.”

  “No, he didn’t, but someone else did. Someone close to him.”

  “Where is he? Where’s William?”

  “He’s gone. Where, I can’t say. He tasked me with finding you and then he disappeared. He’s very good at not being found.”

  “Can’t or won’t?” I said, holstering Grim Whisper and scratching Peaches out of pounce mode.

  “She can’t,” Monty whispered from the table. “Once she takes on her real form, she must speak truth afterwards for a predetermined time.”

  “For a quarter day, no lie may be uttered by my kind after the transformation. Six of your hours.”

  “Why did he send you? This is an enormous risk.”

  “There was no one else to send,” she answered. “No one else he could trust.”

  “An enormous risk to whom?” I asked, looking around. “She’s the dragon.”

  “Drake,” corrected Monty, absently. Then, turning back to Slif, his voice hardened. “The message, surely it isn’t to mend bridges for the lost decades of absence.”

  “He wanted to apologize for the deception. He knew it would anger and hurt you. He’s sorry he had to do it this way.”

  “Is that it? An apology for abandoning his family? Tell him not to bother, I’m not interested.”

  “There’s more,” she said slowly, spreading out her hands and looking down at the table. “Davros is free.”

  “Davros…” Monty’s face paled. “Impossible.”

  I was about to ask who Davros was when the earth shook and Peaches disappeared.

  SEVEN

  “THAT SOUNDS CATASTROPHIC out there,” I said, placing my ear to the door. “Who would be insane enough to attack a neutral location?”

  Monty backed up and began examining the runes on the door. “Insanity isn’t the issue. With the runes out there, who would be powerful enough?”

  I gave him a sidelong glance. I checked Grim Whisper and made sure I had a round in the chamber.

  “What’re you doing?” I asked as I adjusted my thigh sheath. “Tell me you aren’t doing what I think you’re doing.”

  “I’m figuring out the sequence to open the door. What did you think I was doing? Admiring the décor?”

  “Someone, or more likely something, just shook the entire building and you want to go out and do what—say hello?”

  He pointed at the runes as he spoke. “There are innocent people out there. I don’t relish the thought of being trapped in here while whatever is attacking them figures out a way in here.”

  “But you won’t be able to use your magic out there.”

  “He will,” Slif said and removed the restraints. “He is Ordaurum. He is strong enough.”

  I gave Monty a look as I shifted closer to Slif, against my better sense.

  “I don’t think so. He’s never heard of Ordaurum,” I said, looking at him.

  Monty continued to decipher the door runes. I could see him stiffen at my words, but he didn’t turn around.

  “Nonsense,” Slif answered and cracked her neck. “He is the ranking Magus Bellum Ordaurum. It is the only way I could find him.”

  “Magus Bellum Ordaurum?” I stepped closer to Monty. “My Latin is rusty, but not that rusty. “Battle Mage of odor”? Is that what that last part means?”

  “We have more important things to focus on at the moment. Step back.”

  I moved back and he placed his hand on random locations on the door. We waited for a few seconds. Nothing happened.

  “Maybe you got the order wrong? Could be you need more bellum and less magus?”

  “Bloody hell,” he whispered under his breath. “If you persist, I swear I’ll scorch you where you stand.”

  Slif looked at us with a puzzled expression. “Are you two friends?”

  “You know, that’s a great question. Last time I checked, friends don’t lie to each other.”

  “I didn’t want to get into it in front of your vampire,” he replied, still focused on the door. “If she knew I held the honorific she would be forced to try and take me in herself.”

  “Well, she isn’t here. So what does it mean? I’m guessing it’s not describing your wonderful scent of magus bellum.”

  He gave me a quick look and pushed the hair out of his face. “It means battle mage of the Golden Order. I’m the highest ranking battle mage in the Golden Circle.”

  “So it means you are totally badass? Like, next-level super-mage badass?”

  Slif opened her eyes in surprise. She stifled a giggle behind a series of coughs and looked away.

  “That is why I didn’t want to explain it to you. It means if there is another war, I have to lead the Golden Circle mages to fight and kill—using magic.”

  “Oh,” I said, instantly serious. “That’s one hell of a burden. I didn’t know, sorry.”

  “It wasn’t cakes and ale last time. I don’t plan on going through that again, if I have a say.”

  “Why would Chi be forced to take you in?”

  “Ordaurum mages aren’t allowed to leave their sects—ever. It’s a matter of being battle-ready. If she knew my title she would be forced to attempt to a
pprehend me and inform the Golden Circle.”

  “How many of these Ordaurum mages does your sect usually have?”

  “Five, normally. Only three go into battle at any one time. The remaining two stay back to protect our home—the Sanctuary.”

  “So what’s the issue? They still have four at this Sanctuary place. They don’t need you. What about this William? Is he an Ordaurum Magus too?”

  “Yes. William was” —he looked at Slif—“is a battle mage. Together with Davros, a weather mage, we formed the Golden Circle’s tribus a TB.”

  “A what?”

  “Three battle mages is a tribus. A TB is a tribus-bellum,” he said and waved his hand. “It just means three battle mages.”

  “What is it with your sect and the Latin? TB sounds like you have a disease.”

  “Latin was en vogue when the Circle was formed.”

  “Latin? En vogue? You realize Latin is an old, dead language?”

  “The Golden Circle is older. Anyway, the three of us fought in the last war. William was killed, or so I thought. Davros went mad. He had to be negated, restrained, and incarcerated.”

  He stepped back and placed his hands together. He closed his eyes and whispered something under his breath. I moved farther away from the door as his hands began to glow white. Slif stepped to one side as Monty pressed his hands to the random locations on the door again. My ability to see runes was improving, especially when magic coursed through them. Seeing them in their latent state was still difficult.

  This time the runes flared a bright red before going back to normal. The door was open. Monty approached and grabbed the handle. I unsheathed Ebonsoul and held Grim Whisper in my other hand, sensing Slif just behind me.

  “Are you sure you want to go out there?”

  “I don’t see how we have much of a choice.”

  “What about this William? The one you thought was dead. Why would he send a drag—drake?”

  “William…is my older brother,” Monty said without turning, and pulled.

  EIGHT

  AN EERIE SILENCE filled the room as Monty opened the large door.