“We can’t give the Blood Hunters the blades,” Monty whispered as my phone vibrated. “They would bond to them and eliminate all the vampires in the city.”
“The streets would flow with Redrum,” I said, putting the pouch containing the battle armor in my coat’s inner pocket.
“Someone is using Blood Hunters to harvest vampire blood,” Ken said as he headed for the door. I followed him and admired the Ecosse as he pushed it off the sidewalk. “Setup a meeting. You have both blades now. Just make sure they don’t get them. Find the person using the Blood Hunters—you find my sister.”
“What are you going to do?” I asked. My phone vibrated again and I saw it was Ramirez.
“I have to take my sister’s place in the Council until she returns,” Ken said. “If I take direct action they can invoke a challenge for her seat.”
“Which means?” I asked, silencing my phone.
“They will attempt to remove him forcibly if he’s seen to interfere,” Monty replied. “You know they will issue the challenge regardless.”
“If her seat were vacant, a challenge can be issued immediately,” Ken said, jumping on the Ecosse and looking in my direction. “If I take her place they have to wait five days. That’s how long you have to find her and bring her back to me. If you fail, I’ll remember.”
Ken started the motorcycle and sped off as my phone vibrated again. I picked it up on the third ring.
“Simon, hello,” Ramirez said calmly. His tone threw me for a second because Ramirez only had three voice settings: yelling, screaming, and make your ears bleed. “I’m sitting here in my office across from one Julien Durant, the sovereign of the Foundry, who is filing a formal complaint against the Montague & Strong Detective Agency for damages to his home. Would you happen to know anything about that?”
“It wasn’t us,” I said, heading back to the table and picking up the sword case. I gave Jimmy a quick nod, which he returned as I passed the counter and walked out of the shop. Monty unlocked the Goat and jumped in the passenger side. “At least not entirely.”
“Of course it wasn’t,” Ramirez answered and I could hear him tapping a keyboard in the background. “You’ll have to come into my office for a formal statement. Please use our new offices. Will you be able to comply or do I need to have Officer Allen issue a warrant?”
“A warrant?” I said, starting the car. “What the hell, Ramirez?”
“Yes or no?” Ramirez said with an edge. “It would be a good idea if you brought in your associate as well. I would hate to have another body turn up. Can I expect you within the hour?”
Then it made sense. The tone. The mention of Allen and a body turning up. He wanted us to meet him at the Medical Examiner’s office in an hour. What I didn’t understand was why he was being cryptic.
“Yes, we’ll be there,” I said and hung up. “We need to go see Allen. Something major is going down and I think Julien is part of it.”
TWENTY-FIVE
I DROVE UPTOWN to 520 1st Avenue, which was also the OCME, or Office of the Chief Medical Examiner. I just called it the morgue.
We entered the elevator and headed down to the third sub-basement reserved for supernatural deaths. When the doors opened, five NYTF officers standing guard by the elevator greeted us. We flashed our credentials, courtesy of Ramirez, and walked down to the autopsy room.
The smell of chemicals permeated the space and I had to hold my breath for a few seconds as I adjusted. Fluorescent lights kept the room brightly illuminated. Three stainless steel tables dominated the center of the room. Scales hung at the head of each, reminding me of the old hanging meat scales used in butcher shops. Next to each of the autopsy tables sat trays with silver instruments. On the far wall, a sink ran the length of the room.
A body lay on the center table. At least I thought it was a body. It had been burned beyond recognition. Ramirez stood next to the table with his arms crossed and a scowl on his face. Two more NYTF officers were on the other side of the room. I looked around, but I didn’t see Allen.
“I told you not to go in there,” Ramirez whispered as he swiped his face in one motion. He pointed to Monty. “Do you know who this was?”
Monty started to shake his head and then I saw the recognition surface in his eyes. “Bloody hell, Ian,” Monty whispered as he stepped close to the table. “What happened to you?”
Ramirez pulled out his small pad. “Ian Macintyre, Arbiter Mage of the Golden Circle,” Ramirez read off. “According to the eyewitness, Ian here was executed while performing his duties of apprehending one Tristan Montague, rogue mage of the same sect.”
“Eyewitness?” I said a little louder than I intended. “We were on the street alone when—he—Ian attacked us.”
“Not according to the eyewitness, a Julien Durant, sovereign of the Foundry,” Ramirez said and looked at the two NYTF officers in the room. “Let me have a moment.”
The officers each gave a short nod and stepped out of the room, keeping their hands close to their holsters. The door closed behind them with a soft click.
“What the hell is going on, Ramirez?” I asked, suddenly angry. “You know this wasn’t us.”
Ramirez held up a finger and pressed a small cube he held in his other hand. We were suddenly in a sphere of silence. Monty raised an eyebrow and looked around. He gestured as orange runes trailed from his fingers.
“This is a workable silence spell,” Monty said and held out his hand to Ramirez. “May I?”
“That’s our latest from Jhon our Q-master,” Ramirez said, handing Monty the cube. “He calls it silence, cubed. Knock yourself out, just don’t touch the red surface or it collapses the area of silence.”
Ramirez turned to face me with clenched fists. For a second, I thought he was going to unleash one at my face.
“Angel?” I said, backing up a step. “We should calm down. And by we, I mean you.”
“What the royal fuck, Simon!” Ramirez screamed, followed by a string of curses in Spanish. “Do you know how deep in the shit you are—the both of you?”
Monty looked up from the cube. “Julien assassinated Ian and is currently claiming us—specifically me—as the guilty party,” Monty replied matter-of-factly. “Due to his status as sovereign of the Foundry and his many connections in the city, this will force the NYTF to view us as criminals and attempt to apprehend and detain us.”
Ramirez looked at Monty for a second before turning back to me. “That! Exactly that!” Ramirez yelled, poking me in the chest. “I told you not to go in there without an army of backup. Why was this guy after you anyway?”
“Doesn’t matter now.” I looked at the very crispy Ian. “Julien is this powerful, Monty?”
Monty nodded, handing the cube back to Ramirez. “Julien expects us to escape, which will allow him to unleash Claude under the pretense of assisting the incompetent NYTF,” Monty said, narrowing his eyes at Ian. “With Ian’s death, the Sanctuary will move to the next phase of apprehending me.”
“Which is?” I asked, not wanting to hear the answer. “I think we’ve moved past a strongly worded email.”
“They’ll send a magistrate,” Monty said, his voice grim. “Someone stronger than Ian.”
“That sounds bad,” I said. “How bad is it?”
“Within the Golden Circle, magistrates are only second to the elders in power,” Monty replied. “He won’t be here to escort me back. Not after what happened to Ian—and he won’t be alone.”
“So magistrates are basically Golden Circle assassins,” I said, looking at the charred remains of Ian. “Are they stronger than you?”
Monty gave me a short nod. “Considerably older and stronger,” Monty answered, stepping away from what used to be Ian. “Julien will accomplish his goal of eliminating us without having to leave the Foundry. If that fails, he has considerable resources at his disposal. I’m sure this moved quickly through the NYTF brass.”
Ramirez nodded. “I can give you two hours before t
he order goes out and NYTF mobilizes to bring you in,” Ramirez replied. “I brought you here because I don’t know who I can trust right now and we needed to meet face-to-face. You need to make it look real.”
“Make what look real?” I said, confused. “What are you talking about?”
“Our escape,” Monty said and formed an orb of air in his hand. “Are you ready, Director?”
“Those guys outside are good guys,” Ramirez said, bracing himself. “Rough them up, but nothing permanent? Deal?”
Monty nodded. “You have my word.” Monty gestured and the orb in his hand picked up speed. “Please stand by the wall; it will lessen the impact.”
Ramirez held up a hand signaling Monty to wait.
“One more thing and the real reason I needed you on this,” Ramirez said as he stood by the wall. “The Redrum flooding the streets is being controlled by someone who calls himself the Wraith. One of my sources says he’s a mage working with someone inside the Dark Council. If this information is solid, this is about more than just Redrum.”
“Are you kidding me?” I said, slamming a table with my fist and looking at Monty. “Fucking Nick? I told you we should have erased him.”
“We may well get the chance,” Monty said, and let go of the orb in his hand. “Brace yourself, Director.”
“Find this Wraith and stop him before every street in the city runs red with vampire blood,” Ramirez said right before the orb bounced him off the wall. I caught him and laid his unconscious form on the floor.
“I think he’s on Peaches’ pastrami diet,” I said with a grunt as I moved him, taking care not to bump his head against the floor. “Seven officers outside. My methods are lethal. I hope you have something gentler than Ebonsoul or entropy rounds.”
“I do, but I’m going to need your shield,” Monty said with a gesture.
I opened the door and pressed the main bead on my mala bracelet. A shield materialized in front of me. Monty placed a hand on the shield and muttered some words under his breath. It contorted and changed shape. A cylinder of white energy blasted down the hallway, slamming the officers against the walls.
“You call that gentle?” I said as we walked to the elevator. A few of the officers groaned in pain. Some of them were out cold as we stepped by them.
“They’re still alive and our escape needed to appear authentic,” Monty answered, entering the elevator. “I’ve achieved both and left them mostly intact.”
I just stared at him as the elevator doors closed. We exited the building and jumped into the Goat. Monty grabbed a mage powerbar, closed his eyes, and rested his head back against the seat.
“You good?” I asked, concerned. He was looking a little pale. “Is it tea time?”
He nodded but kept his eyes closed as I started the car. “I need to go to the office,” he said, opening his eyes and taking another bite of the bar. “These bars, aside from tasting like dirt, are not helping much. I need something stronger.”
TWENTY-SIX
I PULLED UP in front of the Moscow. I grabbed the sword case, locked the car, and left the Goat in front of the building. I didn’t expect us to stay long and explained as much to the valet, who headed back to the garage.
Andrei opened the door and looked around me nervously. “Where is ad soba—your big dog?”
I gave him points for the quick recovery.
“Peaches, his name is Peaches, and he’s at the doctor, not feeling well,” I said, entering the lobby. “We’ll be down in ten minutes.”
Andrei let out an audible sigh of relief and smiled. “What happened?” Andrei asked, chuckling. “Dog eat car?”
“Hilarious, Andrei, I’ll make sure to let him play with you when he gets out,” I said, heading for the stairs. “I’m sure he’d love a new chew toy.”
Andrei shook his head and held his hands up in mock surrender, before crossing himself, suddenly serious. “Nyet, net spasibo. No thank you.”
Monty shook his head as we headed for the stairwell. “You need to stop torturing the man,” he said, opening the door.
“I live for the small pleasures.” I climbed the stairs with Monty behind me. “Besides, he started it.”
I needed to call Roxanne and see how Peaches was doing. With everything that was going on, I hadn’t had a chance to check up on him. Peaches technically was a helldog, but he was my helldog. Which meant no one else got to call him that.
I was about to pull out my phone as we reached our floor, when I noticed the door to the office was wide open. Monty stepped up behind me and cursed under his breath.
Thanks to Olga, the prestigious law firm of Christye, Blahq, & Doil were graciously relinquishing another small corner of the floor space we shared. It allowed us to add another three rooms to our office. The new space was being converted into more living quarters, an expansion to the office space, a larger reception area, and a meditation room for Monty. I think they had been using the space as a storage closet.
A few days back I had stopped and knocked on their door to express my thanks at their generosity and, of course, the office was closed. The agreement meant we were going to be renovating soon, but there was no scheduled work today. I drew Grim Whisper as Monty gestured next to me.
“They bypassed the runic defenses but left them intact,” Monty whispered, forming an orb of blue energy in his hand. “Whoever did this is an accomplished mage, beyond my ability.”
“Julien?” I whispered, standing next to the door with my gun in a high ready position. “Can he do this?”
“Julien prefers to act from the shadows.” Monty shook his head slowly. “Much less come here and infiltrate our home, which would be beneath him. He has Claude for that, but Claude is incapable of wielding magic at this level.”
That’s when the smell hit me. The aroma of sausage, eggs, and coffee wafted out of the office, filled my lungs and nestled, reminding me I had skipped breakfast.
“Whoever it is decided to make us breakfast before attacking,” I whispered, trying to keep from drooling. “I say we sit down, have a meal, before we engage in the violence.”
“This is serious, Simon,” Monty said, increasing the size of the orb from a grapefruit to a basketball of destruction. “Weaving magic at this level requires an immense amount of skill and energy. If the runic defenses have been circumvented without detonation it means we are facing a major threat.”
“Well, that major threat is killing me with this smell and I skipped breakfast, so throw your basketball of pain and let’s get this over with,” I said over the rumbling in my stomach.
“It’s not a basketball of pain, it’s called a runic magical disruptor and should allow us to—never mind,” Monty said when he saw my expression.
“I don’t need the magicscience.” I pointed at the door. “I need breakfast.”
Monty released the orb of energy and it raced inside the office. A few seconds later, a blue flash nearly blinded me as the orb bounced back into the hallway where we stood, and detonated. Monty threw up a shield and deflected the wave of energy away from us.
“If you’re done playing with your magical balls, Tristan, I’d suggest coming in and having breakfast,” a voice with Monty’s accent called out from inside. “Nice rune work, by the way.”
“Someone you know?” I said, looking at Monty’s surprised expression. I was still blinking the spots out of my eyes.
“Impossible,” whispered Monty as he entered the office.
I stepped in slowly, cutting the corner and saw a naked man sitting in our dining area, having breakfast. His upper body was a mosaic of scars. As I looked closer, I realized that the scars were really runes etched into his skin. Two lines of text surrounded by more runes were tattooed on each of his forearms. My Latin was rusty but I still remembered enough to decipher his ink. One read dum spiro spero, while I breathe, I hope. On the other it read deponite omnes spes, abandon all hope.
Perched behind him had to be the largest raven in existence. It sat on
a long thick gnarled branch that leaned against a wall, with its eyes closed. I had seen that branch somewhere but couldn’t place it. I holstered Grim Whisper and placed the sword case on the table.
“Who are you?” I racked my brain, trying to place his face. “I’ve seen you before. How long did it take to get the rune work done?”
He narrowed his eyes at me.
“You have, have you?” Naked Man answered around a forkful of food. “That’s quite impressive, since my veil is one of the best.” He waved a hand and I recognized him instantly. It was the homeless man from the street. The one who was sleeping on the sidewalk when we fought Ian. “And you can see my runes?”
“You?” I nodded in recognition. “What are you doing here? Who are you?”
“Tristan hasn’t mentioned me?” the man said and looked at Monty with a huge grin on his face. “I’m offended, nephew. Cut to the quick, even.”
“You’re sitting in our home, bloody naked, and you’re wondering why I haven’t mentioned you?” Monty said and stormed off. “Wait right there.”
“Nephew?” I asked, confused. “You’re his uncle?”
The old man nodded at me with a wicked smile. He motioned for me to sit down and eat. The table was covered with a wonderful spread of food. Some of the food I recognized, other plates were a mystery. I grabbed a plate and filled it with everything. My phone vibrated a few seconds later. It was Roxanne.
“Simon, I’m so sorry,” she said, crying as she spoke. “He’s gone. Peaches is gone.”
My heart stopped and my stomach clenched at her words. I took a deep breath and then another. “Explain it to me slowly, Roxanne,” I said calmly. “What happened exactly?”
“He was recovering and had regained consciousness,” she started as the words tumbled out. “We had him strapped down to administer another dose of antitoxin when he just—he just vanished.”
I smiled and my heart started beating again. I let out the breath I had been holding. “I’m the one that should be sorry, Roxanne,” I said. “He has a tendency to do that.”
Montague & Strong Detective Novels Box Set: Montague & Strong Detective Novels Books, 1 through 3 (Montague & Strong Case Files) Page 48
