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

by Orlando A. Sanchez

  “Hello, Aria.” Monty pulled out the keepsaker from a pocket. “I believe this belongs to you.”

  Aria extended an arm and Monty placed the box in her open hand. It flared blue for a second and then reverted to normal.

  “This was created by a wordweaver, but not an adept.” She returned the box to Monty. “This is a crude copy of our boxes. Serviceable, but inferior.”

  “What happened to your eyes?” I said as Monty sighed next to me. Sometimes the words just escaped my lips. “Who are the wordweavers?”

  “You must be Simon.” Aria turned to me with the hint of a smile. “Since your time is limited, I’ll leave that explanation to Tristan. As for my eyes”—she cocked her head to one side as she examined me—“some things are best left unseen.”

  “Can you tell me who made this?” Monty held up the box.

  Aria shook her head slowly. “No, I can only tell you it was an Exiled.” She stepped back and placed a hand into the pool as she murmured words under her breath. “No Smith would make that kind of box without the appropriate defenses. That one”—she pointed at the box—“is incomplete.”

  Monty nodded his head and put the box away. “Thank you, Aria.”

  “Are you ready?” She moved her hand through the water as an image began to form in the pool. “The bridge is prepared.”

  Monty nodded and stepped to the edge of the pool. “This will be keyed to my father under the usual rules?” Monty stepped into the pool as the water parted around his feet.

  Aria nodded. “Your ability to cast will be greatly reduced while anchored,” Aria said and made another gesture as the image became clearer. “Any large expenditure of energy can sever the bridge, with unpleasant results.”

  “Understood,” Monty said and dived in, disappearing from sight.

 

  “You don’t have much of a choice,” I said and stepped to the edge of the pool with Peaches next to me. “Is this like a teleportation circle?”

  “Are you referring to the discomfort after teleporting?” Aria gave a short laugh. “Nausea and the like?”

  I nodded. “Exactly. This seems like a long trip and I don’t think my body can take it.”

  “I can assure you, this is nothing like a teleportation circle,” she said as the water parted around my feet.

  I sighed in relief as the water raced up my legs. I saw Peaches disappear. The water came up to my neck before it stopped. I looked around and saw her focused on me.

  “Make sure Tristan doesn’t lose control,” she said, gesturing to keep the water from moving. “If he severs the bridge, it could kill him.”

  “Have you met Monty?” I tried to move, but the water felt thick, holding me in place. “Control is his thing. I don’t think he has any emotions.”

  “Be that as it may, he’s a mage and he’s going to see his Elders.” She moved her hand and the water began to slowly rise again. “They have a way of eroding that control. Oh, one more thing, a Smith bridge isn’t like a teleportation circle—it’s much worse.”

  The last thing I saw before the water covered me entirely was her smile. Mage humor needed serious work. I felt a pulling on my body as the world went black.

  THIRTY

  THERE WAS NO way to tell how long I was in the darkness. I opened my eyes and felt the cool stone underneath. I was about to get up when a hand kept me down.

  “Wait,” Monty said as my stomach and intestines seized. “This is going to be painful.”

  “Fu—” I started, when my breath left me. My intestines felt like they were being ripped out of my body an inch at a time. I looked down to make sure I didn’t have a gaping hole in my abdomen. I closed my eyes and clenched my teeth against the agony. After about a minute, the pain subsided and I was able to breathe regularly. Peaches licked my face once he saw I wasn’t groaning in pain.

 

  “Your drool therapy isn’t helping.” I pushed him away and sat up. The world still felt wobbly but my insides felt like they were going to remain inside. “Stop licking me.”

 

  “What I am is a slobbered mess, thanks to you.”

 

  He padded away as Monty helped me up. “We need to go see my father and then exit as soon as possible,” Monty said as I steadied myself against the wall. “He should be in his chambers.”

  “Is the trip back going to be like this?” I clutched my stomach and took a few deep breaths. “Because if it is, I’ll catch a plane from wherever it is we are.”

  “There are no airports near here.” Monty looked down the corridor we stood in. “We need to move—now.”

  We walked down the narrow hallway until we came to a large door off to the right. I could see the runes glowing faintly around the doorframe. Monty took a deep breath and pushed the door open. I felt the energy wash over me as we crossed the threshold. The dimly lit room was spacious judging from the echoes of our footsteps.

  “You never could take a hint,” a voice whispered from the darkness. “Stubborn as your mother.”

  A trail of runes floated in the air and the room was bathed in a soft golden light. A figure dressed in black robes sat cross-legged on a large cushion in the center of the room. A large hood covered his face.

  The room resembled an open-plan loft. A large bed dominated one corner. In the opposite corner, I could see a desk covered with papers and documents. Along one wall, I saw a tall table similar to the one where Monty transformed the fake katana into kokutan no ken. In the rear, a doorway seemed to lead off to another room.

  “Hello, Father.” Monty approached the older man, who stood and pushed back the hood. “You’re looking well.”

  “Tristan…” The old man looked Monty up and down. “What the bloody hell are you doing here? Have you learned nothing? Who’s this?” the old man said, looking at me and then pointing at Peaches. “And what’s that?”

  “Father, this is Simon, my friend.” Monty extended a hand in my direction. “Simon, this is my father, Connor Montague, Elder of the Golden Circle,” Monty said. “That is Peaches, Simon’s companion.”

  Monty had his father’s features down to the scowl. The resemblance was unmistakable.

  “It’s an honor to meet you.” I held out my hand. “These are some impressive quarters.”

  Connor just stared at my hand before turning to Monty. “Are you daft?” Connor said and gestured quickly, his fingers leaving trails of golden light. “He’s not even a mage. What were you thinking?”

  “Who gave the kill order?” Monty said quietly. “How long have you been held here?”

  “Held here?” I said, with a look. “These aren’t his quarters?”

  “An Elder has quarters five times this size, with several apprentices to assist his work.” Monty looked at the space we stood in. “This is a cell.”

  “All the more reason you need to leave—now.” Connor gestured again. “Once you came in here you set off the defenses. They will be here shortly. You used a Smith bridge?”

  “Yes, but—” Monty started.

  “You need to leave.” Connor placed his hand on the floor and a teleportation circle materialized around us. “I sent Dex for a reason, Tristan. Listen to him.”

  “I’ll be back.” I could hear the edge in Monty’s voice. “I’ll come back and release you.”

  “Don’t you dare.” Connor grabbed Monty by the arm. “Oliver has taken over the Elders. If you return, really return, they’ll cut you down the moment you set foot on the mountain. He’s the one who gave the order—he’s the one sending the Ghosts.”

  Monty clenched a fist, and I could feel the air around us charge with energy.

  “Monty?” I heard the approaching footsteps. “Maybe we should listen to your dad? Those footsteps sound angry.”

  Black energy formed around Monty’s fists. “Let them come,” Monty whispered as the energy
raced up his arms.

  “We can’t find Chi if we get shredded here.” I unholstered Grim Whisper, and Peaches entered ‘pounce and destroy’ mode. “We can come back for your dad once we get her safe. I think this calls for a strategic retreat while we still can.”

  Monty glanced at me. “Your word.”

  “We will come back and free him.” I looked at Monty and he nodded. “You have my word.”

  “You’re both fools.” Connor grabbed Monty’s shoulder. “You stay away, son. They can’t hurt me, but they will kill you.”

  “They’ll try,” Monty whispered as Connor stepped back, gestured, and activated the teleportation circle. “I’ll come back for you.”

  The circle flared bright, blinding us as the room disappeared.

  THIRTY-ONE

  WE ARRIVED IN Erik’s office and this time I ejected the contents of my stomach all over his polished wooden floor. When I looked up, I noticed the office was Harlequin-heavy. I counted no less than six of them standing around the room. I dry-heaved a few more times and made my way to one of the wingback chairs. Peaches came over next to me and sat on his haunches.

 

  I shook my head and rubbed his. “Not this time, boy.”

  “That wasn’t the anchor.” Erik sidestepped my gastric contributions to his office and signaled to a Harlequin, who left the office and returned a few moments later with a large transparent towel. She placed it on the floor, and in seconds, the towel evaporated, removing all traces of my digestive destruction. “How did you return?”

  “My father,” Monty said, his voice tight, “who is currently being held against his will. An Elder, my father, treated like a criminal.”

  “You can’t even think what you’re thinking, Tristan.” Erik raised a hand and the remaining Harlequins left the office. “The Sanctuary has an army of mages, many of them several orders of power stronger than you. Not to mention the other Elders, who can and will erase you before you move a finger.”

  “What time is the meet with Anastasia?” Monty fished out another one of his wafers and bit off half. Erik raised an eyebrow.

  “Dawn tomorrow.” Erik walked over to his desk, retrieved the sword case, and handed Monty a piece of paper. “I don’t know how you did it, but it passed her test. She’ll meet with you there, but you know this is a trap. Once she gets the sword, you’re both dead.”

  Monty nodded, read the paper and handed me the case before finishing the other half of the wafer. “I need to find an Exiled—one of the Smiths. Where are they staying these days?”

  “The same place Anastasia wants to meet.” Erik sat behind his desk and leaned back. “She’s on Ellis Island,” he said, looking at me. “That’s where she has Michiko, if she’s still alive.”

  “Ellis Island?” Monty rubbed his chin and sat in the other wingback. “That complicates matters.”

  “Complicates matters?” Erik said, raising his voice. “The island is a death trap. The runic defenses are so thick you’ll be lucky if you could create a spark. Do you understand now what you’re facing?”

  “We need to get her back.” I looked at Monty, and he nodded. “Any way around these defenses?”

  “Around—around the defenses?” Erik stared at me and shook his head. “The island—the entire island—is configured with runes. Anastasia didn’t pick it by accident. It served as a mage detention site during the war. When it was decommissioned, the Council just shuttered the entire island. No mage is crazy enough to set foot on that island.”

  “This place is a mage prison?” I glanced at Monty. “You won’t be able to cast there.”

  “Your curse probably won’t work there either.” Monty looked at the case holding the fake sword. “The illusion I cast on the blade will dissolve faster there as well.”

  “You’re both certifiable.” Erik threw his hands in the air. “I don’t even know why I bother.”

  I reached into my jacket and pulled out the pouch holding the battle armor Ken gave me for Michiko. “Do you have anything like this?” I slid the pouch across the desk.

  “This is Daystrider Armor.” Erik held the fabric between his fingers before sliding the pouch back. “Where did you get this?”

  “Ken gave it to me—for Michiko,” I said, putting the armor away. “Do you have a mage equivalent or a tank we could use?”

  “I’m fresh out of tanks, but I have something close.” Erik made a gesture. “Daystrider is the only armor I know that can stop blood arrows.” A Harlequin silently stepped into the office a moment later. “Two sets of battle armor. Tristan, do you still remember how to use the blades?”

  Monty nodded. “It’s been a few years, but it should come back to me.”

  “And a pair of Sorrows,” Erik said, looking at the Harlequin. The Harlequin bowed and left the room.

  “Speaking of blades,”—I tapped Ebonsoul’s sheath—“will this work on the island?”

  “That weapon predates the island defenses by a few centuries. If any weapon will work there, it should be that one—considering its purpose.” Monty stood and pulled on his sleeves. “We need to get back to the office. If we’re going to Ellis Island I’m going to need a few things.”

  I stood up. My stomach felt much calmer. “Thank you, Erik,” I said, picking up the sword case and then bowing. “Your help means—”

  “I never helped you.” Erik stood as the Harlequin entered the office again, holding a narrow bag. “You were never here and we never spoke.”

  Monty took the narrow bag from the Harlequin and left the office. I followed and stopped at the door for a second. “I’ll make sure Michiko knows.” I nudged Peaches and continued walking, when Erik spoke.

  “Simon, bring her back—alive,” Erik whispered as I closed the door behind me.

  THIRTY-TWO

  I FELT MY phone vibrate as we sped up the West Side Highway. I glanced down and saw Ramirez’s number, connected the call and put it on speakerphone.

  “Strong, tell me you have answers, something, anything,” Ramirez said in his usual ‘make my ears bleed’ tone. “This Redrum is making the night and days a mess.”

  “Days?” I swerved around a few cars, and Monty gave me a look. “I thought the blood made them photosensitive?”

  “It does,” Ramirez said with a sigh. “That’s the problem. They feel superhuman until they step into the sun, then it’s itching, burning, and boom—Redrum user all over the sidewalk.”

  “That actually makes sense,” Monty said, rubbing his chin. “It’s what they want.”

  “Come again?” Ramirez asked, confused. “What makes sense? Explain it to me. I would love for something to make sense.”

  It came to me suddenly. “If you wanted to eliminate vampires from the city,” I said, braking short and causing a few drivers to give me some New York City blessings, “how would you do it?”

  “Fuck me sideways,” Ramirez said after a brief pause. “The Blood Hunters are behind this. The brass met with their leader—an Anastasia—a few days ago to discuss the imminent supernatural threat. She said the NYTF was ill-equipped to deal with it.”

  “They agreed?” I cut off a yellow taxi that proceeded to try to race with me, until I pressed down on the gas. “What did they say?”

  “They took it under advisement,” Ramirez said. “They don’t like anyone pissing in their pool. But some of them are seriously considering working with them.”

  The NYTF was territorial. If the Blood Hunters came in trying to tell them how to do their jobs, the rank and file would reject them outright. The brass, on the other hand, would ‘take it under advisement,’ which meant they were looking for a way to turn the situation to their advantage.

  “Working with them will end badly.” I swerved off the Westside Highway. “We have a meet. Stall the brass until we’re done.”

  “Where’s the meet?” Ramirez asked. “Location.”

  When I didn’t answer, he cursed. “Strong, either you te
ll me where it is or I send out several squads to hunt you down.” I heard the punching of keys in the background. “I only need to follow the trail of destruction—your call.”

  “Ellis Island.” I pulled up to the front of the Moscow, took the phone off speaker, and let Peaches out. I walked through the door and noticed Andrei jumped back out of the corner of my eye. I refrained from his regular torture as I headed to the stairs behind Monty with Peaches in tow. “Ramirez?”

  “Do you remember when I told you not to go into the Foundry without an army of backup?”

  “Vaguely.” I climbed the stairs slowly. I knew where this was going. “Chi is on that island, Angel. There is nothing you can say that’s—”

  “Use the Phoenix Protocol,” Ramirez whispered. “I’ve been doing some digging of my own. Everything about you is scrubbed clean—too clean.”

  “I can’t—shit, Angel,” I said with a sigh. “I can’t use that without setting off a shitstorm in the NYTF. People would die.”

  “I know.” I could hear the satisfied smirk on his face. “I was just verifying my info. Phoenix Protocols are reserved for higher echelon operatives and Shadow Company. I wonder which you belonged to, Strong?”

  “You bastard.” I couldn’t help the smile on my face. “Stop digging into my past. You won’t like what you find.”

  “I don’t like you now,” Ramirez answered with a grunt. “Nothing I find is going to make me like you less.”

  “Don’t be so sure.” I opened the second-floor door and headed to the office. “What can you tell me about Ellis Island?”

  “Officially? Nothing.” I heard the keys again. “Unofficially, I’d tell you to stay away even though I know you won’t. It’s a Dark Council black site. It has been shut down for decades. No one goes there. The place is so jammed up with old energy it fries anyone who tries to use magic while standing on it.”