Walking The Razor: A Montague & Strong Detective Novel

by Orlando A. Sanchez

“This one,” Olga said, looking at Jessikah, “is police?”

  “Not really,” I said. “She’s more like…”

  “Chernaya Orkhideya,” Olga finished. “Black Orchid…yes?”

  Jessikah looked at Olga with an expression of mild surprise.

  “Da,” Jessikah answered with a slight nod. “Ochen priyatno. A pleasure.”

  “You are the KGB of mages,” Olga said, her words laced with venom. “You are here as his guest.” She pointed at me with her chin. “Do not bring trouble to my home. If you do, I will blame him, but punish you. Ponimayesh?”

  “I understand,” Jessikah replied. “Thank you.”

  Jessikah opened the passenger side and sat quickly in the Dark Goat, closing the door and ending any further conversation.

  Olga looked at me for a few, long seconds.

  “Black Orchid is dangerous, Stronk. Not good…ever,” she said, shaking her head and looking off to the side. “They only destroy and kill. This one,”—she glanced down at where Jessikah was sitting—“will bring you problems. Rezh—cut from her, before too late.”

  “Working on it,” I said, opening the suicide door for my hellhound, Sprawly McSprawl. “Inside.”

  Peaches bounded in and took up the entire backseat with a masterful extension of fore and back legs. Then the ham gave Olga the biggest of puppy-dog eyes, complete with a hellhound grin of terror. Olga’s expression softened and she rubbed his head behind the ears.

  “Persiki is growing,” she said, as she kept rubbing his head. “If Black Orchid misbehaves, you bite hard, Persiki.”

  Peaches chuffed and pushed his head farther into her hand, milking the rubs for all he was worth.

  “Good boy,” she said, turning to look at me as she hardened her expression again. It hovered somewhere between frozen tundra and glacial frost. “Stronk”—I was beginning to think she enjoyed mangling my name—“find teacher, bring home to teach. Soon.”

  “I will,” I said, getting behind the wheel. “Tell Cece not to use any of her ability until Monty gets back.”

  Olga nodded as I backed out of the parking space and drove out of the garage.

 

 

 

 

 

  Peaches sniffed the air and gave off a low rumble.

 

 

 

 

  “She’s intense,” Jessikah said once we left the Moscow. “Who is she?”

  “She owns the building,” I said. “She seemed to know you, or at least she knew about your sect.”

  “The KGB of mages,” Jessikah said, repeating Olga’s words. “Not exactly the most popular sect, no.”

  “No one likes IA or MPs, but someone has to police those with power and responsibility,” I said. “Means you won’t be popular or liked, but you knew this.”

  “She does know it’s the FSB now, right?” Jessikah asked. “The KGB has been gone for years.”

  “Would you like to explain that to her?”

  “No, thanks,” Jessikah replied quickly. “She wants to call the Black Orchid the KGB of mages, she’s entitled to her opinion.”

  “Good call,” I said. “Olga is…”

  “Dangerous,” Jessikah finished.

  “Complicated,” I said. “Let’s just say I’d rather not have to face her in combat…ever.”

  “That’s a good call,” Jessikah added, before looking down at the purring Ink. “I’ll tell him, but I’m sure he knows.”

  “I know what?”

  “Ink says your energy signature is depraved.”

  “Excuse me?” I asked. “My energy signature is what?”

  “Oh, sorry,” Jessikah said, holding up a hand. “Sometimes things get lost in translation. I’m still new to this communication. He says your energy signature is on a degrade. It’s…compost?”

  “My energy signature is compost?” I asked, confused. “What kind of medication is Ink on? And maybe you should consider lowering the dose.”

  Ink growled at Jessikah.

  “Oh, I apologize. He means it’s decomposing,” she said, then looked shocked. “Decomposing? Your energy signature is decomposing?”

  “Something like that,” I said. “Decomposing sounds a little extreme. Better than depraved compost, but not by much.”

  “I’ve never heard of an energy signature decomposing,” Jessikah said. “For that to happen, you should be…”

  “Dead,” I said. “I know. I’m a mystery.”

  “What are you?” she asked, staring at me. “You’re not a mage, but you’re bonded to a hellhound. You clearly move in our world, but you don’t possess any abilities?”

  “I’m complicated, too,” I said. “What is a farsight?”

  “Do you usually answer a question with a question?”

  “Only when I want to avoid giving an answer,” I said, swerving to avoid traffic. “Does farsight mean you can see into the distance…like you have eagle vision or something? Is that what your sect trains?”

  Jessikah laughed and placed a hand on Inkling as she looked out of the window.

  “Not really, no,” she answered with a short laugh. “Farsight means I can see probabilities.”

  “Probabilities?” I asked. “You can see the future?”

  “No,” she said. “Seeing probabilities means I can see possible outcomes of any situation. I can see three seconds forward from any fixed point in time.”

  “Basically, you can see three seconds into the future,” I said.

  “The key is from a fixed point,” Jessikah answered, still rubbing Ink. “It’s more of a curse than a gift right now.”

  “That must come in handy in a fight,” I said. “No one can sneak up on you.”

  “Not really,” Jessikah answered, still looking out of the window. “A fight is not a fixed point. It’s fluid, in flux, constantly changing and shifting, moment to moment. Three seconds of farsight isn’t much help in a fight—everything is moving too quickly.”

  “So, not seeing into the future?”

  “Farsight allows me to see probabilities,” Jessikah explained. “Not certainties. When I use it, I can see what could happen, not what will happen.”

  “Like a chess master anticipating moves?”

  “Except I can only see three moves ahead.”

  “Still pretty good,” I said. “Seeing three moves ahead is excellent.”

  “Some of the great chess masters can see fifteen moves ahead on several branches of plays. A farsight master can see up to twenty seconds ahead on multiple branches. I’m still a novice, and a poor one at that.”

  “Is that what happened on your first case?” I asked. “You looked at the wrong branch?”

  “Do you always ask such personal questions?”

  “Yes,” I said with a nod. “Especially if we are going to be facing angry Black Orchids who want to kill you—and by default, me—along with some heavy-hitting, dark mages that want Monty to go full dark.”

  “Or dead,” she added. “They may just want him gone.”

  “Evers isn’t exactly what I would call stable,” I said, “and this Talin sounds like he’s up there on the batshit scale with wanting to get rid of magic.”

  “You have an interesting circle of acquaintances,” she answered, glancing in my direction. “Why are we going to see this Ezra? Who is he?”

  “Ezra is short for Azrael,” I said. “Azrael, as in the…”

  “The Angel of Death?” she scoffed. “That Azrael?”

  “These days he just goes by Death…capital D.”

  “You’re serious?�
� she asked in disbelief. “We’re going to go meet Death?”

  “I think you’ll like him,” I said. “He makes a mean pastrami sandwich.”

  “A pastrami sandwich?”

  “The best in the city,” I said. “Hold on.”

  I jumped onto the Westside Highway and headed downtown to loop around the lower half of the city. It was the fastest way to Ezra’s.

  FOUR

  We arrived near Ezra’s twenty minutes later.

  I parked the Dark Goat about a block away from Ezra’s. Peaches bounded out as I opened his door. The Dark Goat rocked on its suspension, swaying side to side slowly.

  I was seriously going to have to put him on a diet or get a Dark Goat truck. Hades never told me how large hellhounds grew, but if Cerberus was any indicator, Peaches would outgrow the Dark Goat at some point. Hopefully not too soon.

 

 

 

 

 

 

  He tried to sit still, practically vibrating off the ground in excitement.

  “Your hellhound seems happy,” Jessikah said, giving Peaches a wide berth as she exited the Dark Goat. “He knows this place?”

  “It’s one of his favorite places,” I said. “Give me a sec, I need to secure the Dark Goat.”

  “Won’t it get towed?” she asked, looking around. “This is a busy street. I can’t believe you’re going to—”A loud anvil clang, followed by an orange wave of energy racing across its surface, indicated the Dark Goat was locked. A few seconds later, the full effect of Cecil’s runes could be felt. “Oh, I see. Who runed this car? What did you do to anger them so?”

  “This is a SuNaTran vehicle,” I said. “I’m pretty sure it’s tow-proof. It’s been runed to prevent theft, among other things.”

  “Or proximity for that matter,” Jessikah said, stepping away from the locked Dark Goat. “It feels…”

  “Menacing?”

  “I was going to say…evil,” she said, taking another step back. “But we could go with menacing, sure.”

  “I think Cecil is punishing us, but Monty disagrees. He says…” The words gave me pause. “Monty says, Cecil just wants to figure out how to destroy the Beast.”

  “This is not the Beast?” Jessikah asked, pointing to the Dark Goat. “It feels like an angry beast.”

  “No, this is the Dark Goat,” I said, rubbing a hand gently over the hood. “She’s mean, and impossible to kill, but she’s not evil. The Beast…well, that one may be evil. I don’t think we need to worry about it, though. That’s Grey Sneaker’s problem.”

  “Do you mean Grey Stryder?”

  “You’ve heard of him?” I asked. “Owns a place downtown…a real dive.”

  “Yes, he is known to the Black Orchid, as is his sword,” Jessikah answered. “He is a mage of considerable power. Several years ago, he unleashed a cast that killed a fellow mage. The Black Orchid has had him under observation ever since.”

  “What kind of cast?”

  “An entropic dissolution,” Jessikah answered, her voice grim. “A few levels above the void vortices Tristan unleashed on the city not long ago. Frankly, I don’t know how he’s still alive…that cast should have killed him, along with his partner.”

  “He’s worse than a roach and harder to kill,” I answered, not sharing that Grey was only alive because of his sword—or at least that’s what Monty had shared with me. “Is it possible he’s stronger than the Black Orchid knows?”

  “Not likely,” Jessikah said. “We keep track of all mages of interest. While there are many variables, it’s unlikely our data is incorrect. He is powerful and dangerous. The sword he wields possesses an unknown source of power. Once a mage lands on our watch list, he or she is under observation indefinitely.”

  “You realize how creepy that sounds?” I asked. “Can you blame Olga for calling your sect the KGB of mages?”

  “I know it sounds bad,” Jessikah replied. “But we do plenty of good. We’ve prevented many dark mages from attacking places of power, including your city.”

  “Really,” I said, raising an eyebrow as I thought about the nastiness Monty and I had dealt with in the past, without ever running into a bad case of BO. “I only have one issue with self-appointed keepers of justice.”

  “We weren’t self-appointed. All of the sects agreed to create the Black Orchid as a check and balance against the other sects.”

  “Who watches the watchers?” I asked. “Who checks the Black Orchid when they step out of line?”

  “The Black Orchid would never step out…”

  She became silent as the realization of her suicide mission dawned on her.

  “Exactly,” I said. “All of the sects are dangerous. Even the ones tasked with watching the others. Especially those, because they can easily believe their own press.”

  “I don’t understand. What do you mean believe their own press?”

  “The Black Orchid may have started out honorable and with good intentions,” I started. “Somewhere along the millennia, something got twisted, something broke.”

  “What are you saying?”

  “How can you not see it?” I said. “They sent you out here to die. Either Monty was supposed to blast you to little orchid bits, or one of your own sect will take you out. One of the mages who has more than two cases under their belt.”

  “I’m not denying it,” she said, her voice full of denial…and anger. “It’s just that…”

  “It’s hard to process,” I said. “I know. You better speed up the processing phase if you want to keep breathing” Before she could say anything, I looked up at the deli entrance. “This is it.”

  “Death lives in a deli?” Jessikah said, looking at the storefront of Ezra’s place. “You’re kidding, right?”

  “I don’t think you can use the term ‘lives’ with Ezra,” I said. “He resides here, but the real question is: Where is here?”

  “What?” Jessikah said, confused. “What does that even mean?”

  “Sorry,” I said, holding up a hand in surrender. “I spend so much time around mages, I’m beginning to sound like one.”

  “I’m a mage and I still didn’t understand what you said.”

  “Right,” I said, looking at Ezra’s. “This place is a place Ezra chooses to inhabit. It looks like a regular deli until you cross the threshold, and then we shift planes to wherever Ezra wants it to be. That clearer?”

  “Not by much, but I think I get it,” Jessikah answered. “This is an interstitial pocket dimension existing outside of time and space, but controlled by an entity named Ezra. Created to look like a…deli? Of all things?”

  “There you go,” I said. “You sound like you just left one of Ziller’s classes.”

  “You know who Ziller is?” Jessikah asked, surprised. “His work is required reading.”

  “He sounds worse in person, trust me.”

  “You’ve met him?”

  “I still have the headaches to prove it,” I said. “It wasn’t all fun.”

  “Amazing,” she said. “There are mages who go their entire lives without meeting him.”

  “I’m sure the ones who do wish they hadn’t,” I said, heading toward Ezra’s, and noticed something was missing. “Where’s your cat?”

  Jessikah shrugged.

  “He does that sometimes,” she said. “He’ll be back. Doesn’t your familiar go off on his own?”

  “He’s my bondmate, not a familiar, and no…he doesn’t.”

  “Bondmate? Really?” Jessikah said, glancing from Peaches to me. “He doesn’t go off on his own at times?”

  “He goes where I go,” I said, looking at my still-vibrating hellhound. “Sometimes even when I go. He n
ever leaves my side.”

  “Ink isn’t my bondmate,” Jessikah said, “but he’s there when I need him…always.”

  “You don’t know where he is?”

  “No, but he’ll be back. He always comes back.”

  “Must be a cat thing,” I said, remembering TK’s cat-being, Dinger. “Once we cross the threshold, we’ll be in Ezra’s. It’s a little different in terms of customers. I can’t believe I’m saying this: try not to cause trouble or destroy anything.”

  “Why would I cause trouble?”

  “Olga knew you were Black Orchid,” I said. “Stands to reason some of the customers in here will sniff you out as well.”

  “Sniff me out?” she asked, smelling the air around her. “I smell?”

  “Wow, you really are new, aren’t you?” I asked. “They will tell you’re Black Orchid.”

  “It shouldn’t be an issue if they aren’t up to anything nefarious.”

  “You can’t possibly be that naive,” I said. “Did you really just use ‘nefarious’?”

  “Now my vocabulary is under scrutiny?”

  “Just dial it back a bit,” I said. “You can’t be a mage cop in here. Unless you want to end up smushed by Ezra.”

  “Are you saying this place is a den of criminals?”

  Jessikah stepped back to examine the deli entrance with narrowed eyes.

  “It’s a neutral location,” I said. “Ezra will not tolerate you to apprehending or detaining anyone in there, so don’t try it.”

  “I sincerely doubt this supposed angel of death or his deli customers can hinder me in the execution of my duties as a member of the Black Orchid.”

  “Do you even have jurisdiction here?”

  “The Black Orchid has jurisdiction everywhere.”

  “I get the impression that some of the customers in Ezra’s aren’t exactly fans of your sect,” I said. “Probably all of them. Keep your jurisdiction in your pocket. If you attract attention, you’ll alert the other Black Orchid—remember those? The ones who probably want to reduce you to little orchid petals?”

  “Good point,” she said with a nod. “I’ll make sure to keep a low profile.”

  “Sure,” I said, giving her the once-over. Her energy signature stood out like beacon in the dark. “Can you dial down the energy? You’re blazing all over the place.”