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

by Orlando A. Sanchez

  Monty walked across the street.

  The Golden Circle mages is one of the oldest mage groups in existence. Monty didn’t like to talk about them much and I hadn’t been able to get a lot of information on them. Even The Hack came up with close to nothing. What he had found boiled down to a few things, They’re old, secretive, powerful, and erased anyone who tried to find out more.

  It was a lifetime membership and their idea of retirement involved your death. The fact that Monty had managed to leave alive made a few things clear: it was best not to piss him off, and he was probably one of the more powerful mages in the sect. Right now, the sorcerer across the street faced an angry Monty, and I backed up.

  Black energy raced across the street and slammed into Monty. He extended one arm and absorbed the energy into him like a lightning rod.

  “Fool, your death approaches,” the sorcerer said in an unnatural voice that reverberated across the street and unleashed another barrage of dark lightning.

  Monty stepped to the side and avoided the attack. The lightning destroyed the concrete where it struck.

  “Coward,” Monty said. “Stop using surrogates and face me. If you dare.”

  I moved in closer to where Monty stood.

  “Is that really a good idea?” I asked. “I mean, if this being can kidnap Charon and control dead sorcerers, maybe calling him out is not the best strategy?”

  “It’s the only way we’ll know who we’re facing,” he said, “Besides it’s not like you can die, and I’m an accomplished mage. How bad can it be?”

  A red cloud surrounded the sorcerer, and I pulled Monty back.

  “That doesn’t look good,” I said, taking more steps back.

  “Agreed. That cloud reminds me of— shite, we need to run. Now!” he yelled and ran down the street in the direction of MoMA. I was right behind him, when I heard the thump. He turned and grabbed my wrist. The mala glowed white and threw up a shield. It launched us both down the street as the red cloud collided with it.

  We landed unceremoniously in front of the museum and Ramirez’s squad car. I looked around and saw the devastation. Everything the red cloud had touched was reduced to ash. I gave a silent thanks to Karma for the shield and dusted myself off as I stood. The sorcerer from the corner was gone. Monty stood up next to me and pointed. Down the street, two more sorcerers approached.

  “I think I know who’s controlling them,” Monty said. “You aren’t going to like it.”

  “There hasn’t been anything about this day that would go in the ‘like’ column. Tell me.”

  “That red cloud that disintegrates everything is the calling card of one being. If it’s who I think it is, we may as well pack it in.”

  “What do you mean—pack it in?”

  “As in drop this bloody mess and find a nice island to retire to for our last days,” he said. “I’m a mage, not a god.”

  I heard real fear in his voice, which meant my fight-or-flight response kicked into flight on steroids.

  I didn’t want to ask, but I needed to know.

  “Who is it?”

  “It makes perfect sense now that I think of it. How did I not see it before?” Monty said as Ramirez approached our location.

  Ramirez gave me a look. I shook my head, telling him to leave it alone.

  “Monty,” I said, “who’s the bad guy trying to kill us?”

  He snapped back and focused on me.

  “Not just us. He wants to end everything. Always has.”

  “Oh, now I don’t feel so bad—who, Monty?”

  “Chaos.”

  FOURTEEN

  “CHAOS, AS IN the force of chaos?” I asked. “You mean, like the opposite of order?”

  “No. Chaos, as in the god. That red cloud is called a chaotic mist. No one else does that. It requires a living sacrifice.”

  “I don’t like him already,” I said. “So we’re talking what—major leagues here?”

  “If he’s involved, he somehow stopped Charon and is enthralling recently dead sorcerers to do…well, whatever it is he’s doing,” Monty answered. “Yes, I would say several leagues above whatever you or I can deal with.”

  “So just to be clear, when you say living sacrifice, you mean the sorcerer…?”

  “Is the catalyst for the mist—yes.”

  “Maybe it’s a copycat god, someone trying to make a name for him or herself?” I said, hoping against hope.

  “No,” he said. “No one would dare mimic Chaos. Not if they wanted to remain breathing.”

  His words hit me with a sense of finality that rocked me to my core. I felt my stomach do a somersault.

  “I’m calling her,” I said. “This is beyond the both of us.”

  “Chaos who?” Ramirez asked, looking at us. “What is he talking about? Oh and maybe we want to stop them?”

  He pointed at the advancing sorcerers.

  “What about the rune of negation?” I asked. “Can we use it here?”

  Ramirez shook his head.

  “Too dangerous in an open area like this,” he said. “If we unleash it, it could negate everything in a five-hundred yard radius. At least that’s what they told me. That’s why I called you two.”

  “That’s technically correct,” Monty answered. “Do you have it here?”

  Ramirez nodded. “It’s in the case in my car.”

  “What was the Golden Circle thinking when they made that thing?” I said, looking at Monty. “It sounds like a magical nuke.”

  “We were thinking of ending the war,” he said. “It wasn’t supposed to be used after the war.”

  He pulled me back, away from Ramirez, who remained where he stood, his gaze fixed on the approaching sorcerers.

  “Make sure there are no civilians within the cordon,” Ramirez said into his shoulder radio. “Tell me the museum has been evacuated.”

  “Affirmative, sir,” a voice said. “No civilians are inside the cordon. Some of the men would prefer to be outside with them.”

  “And I would like to be sitting by the beach in Miami,” Ramirez barked. “But I’m here stuck with all of you. Suck it up and put on your big-boy pants.”

  “You have ten seconds, right?” Monty asked, grabbing my attention when we were some distance from Ramirez.

  “On the outside,” I said. “I haven’t actually timed it. Plus time itself gets twisted when I use it so I don’t really know how long it is.”

  “In five years you haven’t measured how long it lasts?” he asked and rolled his eyes. “Why do I punish myself this way?”

  “In five years—this will be the fourth time I use it,” I shot back quickly. “You remember that last time I had to use it?”

  He held up his hand. “Forget I asked,” he said. “I will time it this time and if you survive we will know how long.”

  “What do you mean if I survive?”

  “I’m going to release the negation rune and you’re going to take it to them,” he said, looking at the sorcerers. “You will have ten seconds before we are all reduced to... well, there won’t be anything to reduce if you fail.”

  “Why can’t you just cast it at them?”

  “It’s not a spell you can cast,” he said. “It has to be placed. It was one of the constraints placed on its creation. It must remain in a fixed location and then activated.”

  “So throw it at them,” I said. “This is probably one of your worst ideas.”

  “Worse than throwing a rune capable of nullifying everything around it and hoping they will remain in place while it destroys them?”

  “When you put it like that—”

  “It doesn’t matter,” he said, heading to the car and pulling out the case holding the rune. “The rune needs to be placed on a target to be effective.”

  “Guys…”Ramirez said. “If you’re going to do something, now would be a good time.”

  The sorcerers approached the museum entrance. One remained at the door and the other was about to enter.

&
nbsp; “Why are they even here?” I asked. “Is Chaos a big art-lover?”

  “I’m giving you twenty seconds. Put the rune around that sorcerer’s neck” —he pointed at the one guarding the entrance—“and get back to me in that time.”

  “Worst-case scenario?” I asked, not really wanting the answer.

  “You take too long—we all die.”

  “But this rune is magic, so I should be immune.”

  “The catalyst is magic, but the effect is real. Everything is in a state of entropy and—you know what? Here’s the condensed version. You take too long, you’ll be erased along with everything around you. That bloody clear enough?”

  “Crystal,” I said, looking at the rune. “Just tell me when.”

  He took the rune and held the golden disc. A thin chain was looped on either side of it, which allowed it to be hung or attached to a target. Monty closed his eyes and focused. Nothing happened for a few seconds and then it exploded in light, blinding me for a split second. I blinked but had to look away, the light was so intense. It reminded me of a miniature sun sitting there.

  “Now, Simon!” he yelled.

  I placed my right hand on my left, making sure to touch the two points of the endless knot with my thumb and index fingers, and focused. White light raced from each end and connected at the center and then time stopped. I took the disc from Monty and sprinted the half-block to the sorcerers.

  Everything around me was slightly out of focus. Panting with my heart hammering against my chest, I made it to the sorcerer guarding the door and placed the rune around his neck. I noticed movement in my peripheral vision and used a second to look in the museum but saw nothing. I turned and dashed back, realizing I was already running out of time.

  I was about halfway back to Monty when the world erupted behind me.

  FIFTEEN

  THERE WAS A loud crack followed by a deep bass thump that punched my lower abdomen and I knew the negation rune had started. I looked at the mark and the white light that filled it had dimmed and was disappearing.

  I pressed the center orb of the mala and felt the shield come up around me as everything snapped back into focus and a wave of energy launched me past a surprised Monty. I bounced on the street and rolled for several feet before I was able to look back. Monty caught up with me as I was getting to my feet. He was frozen midstride. His hands gave off a golden glow and he was shouting something at me. Ramirez was midair as he dived behind his car. The sorcerer at the door was being annihilated by the negation rune as the chaotic mist surrounded him.

  The world had gone out of focus again. I looked down at my mark but it was dim, which only meant one thing. She was coming.

  “Goddammit, I told him she would show up,” I said to no one in particular.

  A burning sensation tore through my left hand and made me gasp in pain. I looked down at the mark and saw it had turned a deep red. The usual citrusy aroma of lotus flowers and wet earth was replaced with a rancid smell. That same odor filled the nightmare emergency scenario every New Yorker dreads—stepping inside a public bathroom. They look promising from the outside, but once you take one step in, your sense of smell is strangled, thrown to the ground, and stomped on until your eyes water and your nose begs for mercy. If you manage to last more than ten seconds, permanent olfactory damage results in you never smelling the world the same way again.

  “This looks promising,” a voice said behind me—a male voice. “Hello, Detective.”

  I reached for the Ebonsoul before turning and found myself airborne. I landed about ten feet away with no sword and a broken arm. My vision began tunneling in when the pain cascaded over me and yanked me back. Someone was grinding a boot into the break.

  He wore a black trench coat and looked like he shopped in the same places Ken frequented. It was black with an undertone of black and black accents. His hair was cut in a screaming eagle and his posture reminded me of ex-military. Around his neck hung an ornate amulet made of gold. It was covered in runes. The center was blank and it looked like a piece was missing.

  The eyes gave it away. They glowed a deep blue and pulsed as he took in the scene. It was a good clue I wasn’t dealing with a human. I know, my powers of perception astounded even me.

  “Who—what—the hell are you?” I grunted through the pain. “Where’s Karma and what’s with all the black?”

  “Simon Strong,” he said, looking at me, “I heard you can’t die and some are calling you the chosen of Kali, but we both know that’s not true.”

  “She cursed me,” I said. “There was no ‘choosing.’ She wants me to suffer.”

  He twirled the Ebonsoul on one finger as he spoke. “Here in this place” —he spread his arms wide—“you are very, very mortal.”

  He buried the Ebonsoul in my leg. I screamed. He laughed.

  “You’re interfering in things way beyond your comprehension,” he said calmly once my screams subsided.

  “Enlighten me,” I said through the throbbing in my leg. I was losing a lot of blood and felt lightheaded.

  “No, it doesn’t concern you—not your circus, not your monkeys,” he said with a smile. “Besides, you’re being used. Wake up before you end up dead.”

  “Some people disagree,” I said. “Some people feel you need to be stopped. Where’s Charon?”

  He chuckled. “Now that would be cheating, Detective,” he said. “Time to go.” He touched the amulet. “I have what I need, and you have—well, you have a life-threatening wound in your leg. If I were you, I’d get that looked at.”

  He placed a foot on the hilt of the Ebonsoul and stepped down. I screamed again.

  “You bastard,” I gasped when the pain subsided. “I’ll stop you.”

  He removed his foot and crouched down next to me.

  “Pathetic. It’s not surprising you never amounted to much,” he said and laughed again. “There’s just so little potential. That ring a bell?”

  The words hurt more than the sword buried in my leg. They were the words burned into my memory when they discharged me. Those same words were used when they had judged me and deemed me unfit for service.

  “Furgk…you,” I slurred and pulled the Ebonsoul out of my leg. “You…you don’t know me.”

  He shook his head. “That may have been a mistake. Looks like you’ve lost a bit of blood,” he said and grabbed my hand. My mark had gone dark. “Time for you to go, too. By the way, that was an impressive move with the negation rune. You managed to take out both of my sorcerers and most of the atrium. If it had been a battle rune, it would’ve done some serious damage.”

  “Sorry I missed you…Chaos.”

  Blackness was creeping in from the edges of my vision.

  He stood and gave me a sweeping bow. “I’m your huckleberry,” he said and grew serious. “Stay out of my affairs, Strong. Or next time I bury your butter knife in your chest.”

  I pulled out Grim Whisper and fired, but he was already gone. Everything snapped back into focus and I passed out.

  SIXTEEN

  WHEN I OPENED my eyes, the first thing I saw was Monty’s face. His expression told me all I needed to know. I looked as bad as I felt. Never big on emotion, he had two settings—mildly annoyed and white-hot rage. This was one of those rare moments I saw genuine concern. That expression scared me more than Chaos.

  “Still alive,” I whispered and regretted speaking immediately. Everything hurt, even my hair. “Although I think death would feel better right about now.”

  “You look like shite,” he said. “What bloody happened?”

  “Used the rune like you said,” I said, narrowing my eyes at him, “It didn’t have twenty seconds on it—closer to ten, Tristan.”

  “You’re upset. I’m sorry, Simon, I thought I gave you enough time—evidently not.”

  “It was Chaos,” I said and groaned. “He somehow pulled a Karma and stepped in while I was in the stasis.”

  “He attacked you during?”

  “Attack is
a strong word, more like toyed with,” I replied, and groaned as I shifted off my leg. “We can’t face him. He is off-the-charts powerful.”

  I tried to move again and my body screamed at me. I looked across the street and saw the wreckage from the negation rune. The two sorcerers were nowhere to be found.

  “Shit, the rune did that?” And the sorcerers?”

  Monty nodded, his face grim. “They’re gone,” he said. “The mist consumed them.”

  The front of the museum was obliterated. It looked like someone had used an enormous knife and sliced off a large chunk. Most of the sidewalk and street in front of MoMA was missing. Some of the NYTF squad cars that formed the cordon near the entrance were sheared cleanly in half. The others inside the cordon were gone.

  “That rune should never have been created,” he whispered. “It made the Golden Circle a destroyer of worlds. We became death.”

  “Monty, Oppenheimer is a little dark, even for you,” I said with a tight smile as he looked me over. “How bad?”

  He examined the extent of the damage as Ramirez approached us from across the street.

  “The arm will need to be reset before it heals completely,” he said as he prodded. “The wound in your leg looks like it’s healing, but judging from your symptoms you’re going through a class-two hemorrhage. We need a hospital.”

  “Ambulances are on the way,” Ramirez said over the squawk of his shoulder radio. “What just happened? One second I’m standing next to you two, the next you’re over here looking like you’ve been chewed up and spit out.”

  “Chaos happened.” I groaned and sat up. I was feeling slightly better.

  “Goddamn right it’s chaos. Do you see the museum?” Ramirez asked. “And how am I supposed to explain my missing squad cars? You need to get out of here before the brass shows up. I have enough to deal with.”

  “Something is missing from the museum,” I said.

  “Oh, funny, you’re a comedian all of a sudden,” Ramirez answered.

  “I’m serious, something is gone,” I said.

  I didn’t want to explain that a god with some insane agenda just stole something from the museum. He would probably think I was delirious.