Blood Is Thicker A Montague & Strong Detective Novel (Montague & Strong Case Files Book 3)

by Orlando A. Sanchez

Monty glanced at me. “Do you trust Nicholas?” he asked, still examining the surface of the box. “Do you think he’s just going to let us leave without trying to get this back? We need to get this blood to Haven.”

  I nodded. “Good point. Fine, let’s do the timewarp again,” I said and gestured that he should make the circle. “Create it.”

  Monty looked at me, confused. “Timewarp? It’s a simple spatial displacement spell—like taking a jump to the left or a step to the right. There’s no temporal component required for it to function.”

  I just stared at him. Peaches bounded up next to me, while Monty shook his head and created a teleportation circle around us. I took a deep breath as the runes flared and the world slid sideways.

  FOURTEEN

  WE REAPPEARED OUTSIDE of the Hudson Yards Station. I managed to take a step toward the Goat before my intestines knotted up and doubled me over. Whatever food I still had in my body found itself on the sidewalk.

  I dry-heaved and caught my breath. “Teleportation sucks,” I said between gasps. Monty handed me a napkin. “Why aren’t you vomiting up everything?”

  He stepped back and looked at me. “I’ve acclimated. It takes a few years of traveling this way to develop a tolerance to the nausea.”

  I dry heaved, and got myself under control. “I don’t see Peaches suffering, and he hasn’t had years to acclimate,” I said, staring at my dog.

 

  “Your creature,” Monty said, looking down at Peaches, “is not from this world. Besides, the way he eats, I don’t think anything can give him an upset stomach. If it even possesses one. I’m inclined to think he’s bottomless.”

  I felt better and managed to stand up with the assistance of the wall. After a few uneasy steps, I wobbled over to the car and grabbed the door handle. It unlocked with a clang. I opened the door for Peaches, who bounded in. I eased into the driver’s seat, closed my eyes, and rested my head back for a few seconds.

  I started the engine and let the deep purr wash over me. I cracked open an eye, glancing in the rear-view mirror at my sprawled-out monster hound. “I wasn’t wasting it. The circle made me throw up.”

  Monty stepped in and strapped on his seatbelt as I finished answering Peaches. He gave me a look and grabbed one of his mage powerbars. “You’re explaining your nausea to your dog?”

  I nodded, threw the car in gear, and got on 34th Street. I was almost back to normal, except for the bitter aftertaste of bile lingering in my mouth and coating my tongue. “He asked.”

  “Of course he did,” Monty said, giving me another look and sitting back. “Something was off at the Market. Nicholas wasn’t as cagey as usual.”

  “He did try and kill us,” I said. “He did seem a little too cooperative though.”

  “We didn’t learn much, but we may have learned enough.” Monty pulled out the keepsaker, examining it.

  “The Market was a waste of time. You should’ve let me just shoot Nick,” I said, frustrated, as we drove across the city to Haven. “We’re no closer to who created the LIT rounds, and these Blood Hunters are out there targeting Chi. Who the hell are they? And why attack now?”

  Monty tapped his chin in thought. “He gave up the vials too easily. Nicholas wouldn’t part with a street value of one-hundred thousand that easily—unless…”

  “Unless that slimy piece of scum has more,” I added. “We need to close the Market down. Let me call the Council.”

  Monty held up a hand. “Not yet,” he replied while looking out the window. “We still have a use for Nicholas and his Market.”

  “What about the vials we have?”

  “Roxanne should be able to determine where this blood came from.” Monty turned the keepsaker in his hands. “It wasn’t a total waste of time. Very few people can make a box like this. It’s a lost craft.”

  I glanced at him. “Can you track down who made it?”

  He rubbed his chin and nodded. “I will need to make some calls, but I think I can narrow it down.”

  “Now you’re talking,” I said. “You remind me of that awesome literary detective when you get all pensive like that.”

  He put the box down and adjusted his seatbelt. “I’m certain you are referring to Holmes or Poirot, yes? I’ll even take Miss Marple.”

  “I said the awesome literary detective.” I heard a rumble, and glanced into the back seat where Peaches stood with his head out the window. “There’s only one Dark Knight.”

  “Is this the same Dark Knight who runs around in his underwear, with unresolved psychological issues about his parents and only comes out at night?” Monty gave me an eye-roll with a sigh. “One of his missions should be to see a therapist. How you manage to compare Holmes to a cross between Zorro and the Scarlet Pimpernel is beyond me.”

  “Scarlet Pimple sounds like a bad skin condition,” I answered as we pulled up in front of Haven. “But I don’t think your violin playing, cocaine addicted, antisocial psychopath is a healthy role model.”

  “Touché.” The hint of a smile crossed his lips. “Let’s go see your vampire.”

 

  I glanced in the rear-view mirror again. “That’s probably just me, boy. My stomach just did the teleportation tango.”

  “What is it?” Monty asked, alert. “What did he say?”

  “Says he smells bad people.”

  “You certainly have a unique pungency about you,” Monty said, looking at Peaches. “And we are close to Haven. Can you ask him what kind of bad people?”

  I just stared at him.

  “What? That is a perfectly legitimate question,” Monty replied to my look. “It would help to know what kind of smell he associates with bad people.”

  “You want me to ask him what kind of bad people he smells? Really?” We both stepped out of the car. “What is he supposed to answer to that? Maybe I should ask him how every bad thing smells. Would be great to know what a dragon about to roast you smells like.”

  I stepped over to open the door for Peaches, when a white-hot burst of searing pain shot up my leg. I took half a second to admire the arrow buried in my leg, when a gust of air punched me in the back, stealing my breath. The momentary lack of oxygen was the only thing that prevented me from screaming in agony.

  I shot forward, landing unceremoniously near the rear of the car. Two more arrows buried themselves in the asphalt where I’d stood moments earlier. I reached out and slammed the door closed, keeping Peaches inside. I scrambled back and dived to the other side of the Goat as two more arrows bounced off the car.

  I sat on the ground with a grunt and tried not to move my throbbing, shish-kebabed leg.

  I clenched my jaw against the wave of pain, and banged my head against the car. “Shit! Who the hell uses arrows?” I grabbed my thigh when another tsunami of pain slammed into me.

  Monty narrowed his eyes and peeked over the top of the Goat. He ducked back down quickly as an arrow bounced off the top of the car. “Blood Hunters. They must have tracked us from the apartment and the Market. Why didn’t they shoot you with a LIT round?”

  “Your compassion is breathtaking,” I said, trying not to move my skewered leg. “Why did they shoot me at all?”

  “They must have followed your vampire to the Moscow. It doesn’t make sense, though. If they thought you were a vampire—”

  “Why not put me down with a LIT?” I finished. “Can’t you put up a shield or something? They’re just arrows.”

  Monty looked at the arrow and shook his head. “A shield would only activate them. These aren’t ordinary arrows.”

  Peaches gently nudged the door behind me and rocked the car from side to side. Monty reached over, opening the door for Peaches. He bounded out, entering ‘attack and shred’ mode, and stood next to me with a low growl. He looked up and across the street. The growl intensified.

 

  I grabbed Peaches by the scruff of the ne
ck. “Stay here, boy. We don’t know who they are.”

  The arrow in my leg was a nasty piece of work. The fletching was made of red feathers. Along the metal shaft, I could faintly see glowing runes. The head seemed to be some kind of black crystal.

  I let out a long breath and shook my head. “This thing is runed. I take back what I said about ordinary arrows.”

  I grabbed the shaft to pull the arrow out. Monty held my hand, stopping me. “I would advise against that if you want to keep your leg attached to your body. I don’t know if your curse involves restoring missing body parts—would you like to find out?”

  “What?” I let go of the arrow. “These things explode?”

  Monty nodded grimly. “It’s a blood arrow. The runes mix with the blood of the victim,” he said, pointing at the shaft. “Once exposed to the air, it catalyzes a sudden explosive reaction. You go boom along with the arrow.”

  “Fuck,” I whispered. “Can you disable the runes?”

  “I can try,” he said after a pause. He rubbed his chin, and examined the arrow closely. “I’ve never had to remove one of these before. I still don’t understand why they didn’t just shoot you with a LIT round.”

  “Stop trying to cheer me up and get this thing out of my thigh,” I said and slid over to prop my leg up. “Do I have to say I’d rather keep my leg attached to my body?”

  “Duly noted.” Monty narrowed his eyes. He started tracing runes in the air. I felt the shift in air pressure and looked up.

  “Monty, that feels like a—”

  An explosion rocked the top two floors of the medical wing.

  “Chi,” I whispered as my chest became tight.

  “I’m sure Roxanne has things under control.” Monty pulled me to my feet as he cast a shield. No arrows came at us as we headed for the entrance to Haven. “That arrow makes sense now.”

  I shuffled to the front entrance of the medical building. I grunted in pain with each step. “They weren’t trying to stop us, just slow us down,” I said through clenched teeth.

  He nodded as he propped me up. “They must know about your healing ability,” he said, shoving open the door. “A LIT round wouldn’t delay you like this blood arrow.”

  “Which means someone fed them information,” I said, wiping the sweat from my eyes. “Information that’s supposed to be classified.”

  “I’m certain the Dark Council has access to that information,” Monty said, making sure Peaches came in behind us before dropping the shield. “They aren’t fond of you.”

  “Us,” I countered. “They aren’t fond of us. Especially after what you did to Beck. I’m positive you’re on their shitlist.”

  The lobby was a hive of activity as we headed to the elevators. Monty had to show credentials several times before they let us head upstairs. We caught the next elevator up. I closed my eyes, leaning my head against the cool metal, as the soft chime indicated each floor we ascended. The pain in my leg had gone down from ‘deafening roar’ to ‘angry hiss’ but it wasn’t gone completely. I thought about Master Yat.

  “Pain is not weakness leaving the body, Simon,” he said.

  “Especially when you are the one giving the pain…it tends to stay and set up camp,” I answered, rubbing the bruises forming on my legs.

  A few more thwacks made my point.

  “Stop being a smart-ass and listen. You will feel pain. You need to accept this truth.”

  “I work with an angry mage, and train with Torquemada. Pain is kind of part of the package.”

  He nodded. “When it comes, accept it. Embrace it. Realize it’s a sensation like any other. The same as being hot or cold. Put it to one side and do what must be done. Don’t let it overwhelm or control you…ever.”

  The throbbing in my leg reminded me the blood arrow had skewered my thigh. After a few more concentrated breaths, the pain was gone. The elevator came to a stop several levels below the affected floors. When the doors opened, armed personnel approached and asked us for ID a few more times, until Peaches’ growl began to convince them it was a bad idea to get close to us.

  “He hasn’t had his afternoon nap, so he gets cranky,” I said apologetically. “We need to get upstairs.”

  Several of the guards pointed to the stairwell, while staring at the large hellhound taking up most of the hallway. I swear he made himself appear larger.

 

  “Snacks? Do you see the arrow in my leg? No. I don’t have snacks for you.”

 

  “No, thanks,” I said, pushing open the stairwell door. “Monty has to disable it first.”

  Monty shook his head. “You need to either stop talking to your creature in public, or learn to speak to him silently.”

  “He didn’t come with an instruction manual,” I shot back. “So unless you know how to speak mental hellhound, I’m open to suggestions.”

  Monty narrowed his eyes at me. “I’ve noticed you get to call him a hellhound, but you make it a point to stress his name if anyone else calls him that.”

  I waved his words away. “Good to see they’ve increased the security,” I said, looking behind us at the guards. “Makes me wonder how the explosion happened in the first place?”

  “We need to get upstairs,” Monty said, giving me a concerned look. We entered the stairwell, and Peaches gave me a nudge. “Will you be able to take the stairs?”

  “No choice, let’s go.”

  FIFTEEN

  I TOOK THE stairs one at a time, with Peaches bringing up the rear—literally.

  “You don’t need to shove me, dog,” I said after a particularly gentle push that nearly smashed me against a wall. I caught Monty smiling. “Glad this is entertaining you.”

  “Your condition fills me with the utmost concern,” Monty answered but wouldn’t look me in the face. “I have a theory about the explosion, but I don’t think you’re going to like it.”

  “Please expound, oh wise and knowledgeable mage,” I said with a flourish and then wished I hadn’t. I grimaced in pain. A white-hot jolt of agony shot through my leg as Peaches gave me another nudge.

  “Serves you right, you bloody arse,” Monty said. “Do you want to hear the theory or not?”

  The pain had rendered me speechless. I motioned for him to continue as I caught my breath.

  “How do you capture the head of the Dark Council without starting an all-out war?” he asked as we climbed another flight of stairs.

  “You don’t. It’s too risky,” I answered between gasps. Trying to keep the pain at bay was taking most of my concentration. “Trying to kidnap her would be an act of war no matter who did it. Plus, then you have a pissed-off Chi. I wouldn’t wish that on anyone. Besides, there’s no easy way to get to her.”

  He nodded. “True, but if she becomes critically injured she would be moved to a supernatural medical facility.”

  “Which still has top-level security,” I said, shaking my head. “I don’t see where you’re going with this. Why would they want Chi?”

  “I don’t know the answer to that—yet,” he said as he pulled open the door. “What if other vampires were attacked by Blood Hunters tonight? Not with LIT rounds but with blood arrows?”

  I followed his train of thought after a pause. “If we have a bunch of vampire-kebabs in Haven, all it takes is one person to pull out a blood arrow—”

  He nodded as we stepped into the narrow hallway. “Instant distraction,” he said as Roxanne approached us with a black envelope in her hand. “Try not to overreact, Simon.”

  “Why would I overreact—?”

  Roxanne DeMarco, the director of the facility—and a sorceress—was a tall, slim brunette with deep green eyes that you could get lost in if you stared too long. There was a small scar across her forehead and plenty of new scratches and cuts courtesy of the recent explosions.

  “I’m so s
orry, Simon,” Roxanne said, her voice tight with emotion. “The explosion was a diversion. Someone pulled a blood arrow without de-activating it first. Whoever did it detonated part of the infirmary, the other vampires, and themselves. By the time we realized what had happened—she was gone. We found this.”

  She handed me the envelope. My vision tunneled in as I realized they had taken Chi. I clutched the arrow in my leg, but Monty reacted faster than I could, stopping me.

  “Monty, get this arrow out of my leg or I’ll take my chances and pull it out myself,” I said through clenched teeth, trying to keep the rage in check. I opened the envelope. The small card inside was covered with red runes. I handed it to Monty. “What does it say?”

  Monty looked up at me and then at Roxanne. She nodded.

  He cleared his throat. “‘Return the dark blades or we will release the vampire to the sun,’” he said, turning the card over. “These numbers look like coordinates.”

  “What dark blades?” I asked, confused. “Release to the sun—they’re going to kill Chi if we don’t give them these blades?”

  Monty shook his head. “We need to get that arrow out of you—now,” he said as he flexed the muscles of his jaw.

  “Take him to the MRI department. Morphology is the most shielded room on this level,” Roxanne said, placing a hand on my shoulder. “We’ll get her back, Simon. I give you my word.”

  “Thank you,” I said, not trusting my voice to say more. “You may want to clear this floor in case Monty gets this disabling thing wrong.”

  “Isn’t that room locked?” Monty asked, propping me up and heading down the hallway. “What’s the combination?”

  “We had to redo the runic shields after your power-shift,” Roxanne replied while keeping pace with us. She touched his arm and we stopped. “The new combination is 692017153, along with your palm print. You only have one try. Make sure it’s correct.”

  “What happens if he messes it up?” Monty shot me a look. “Hypothetically speaking, of course.”

  “The lockdown failsafe is designed to keep high-level entities secure in the room.” Roxanne looked at Monty. “If you input the wrong code, the entire morphology wing is quarantined. You’ll be trapped in the MRI room on a timed-release protocol.”