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

by Orlando A. Sanchez

  “Is this the corsolis effect?” I asked, raising my voice as the energy increased, making it hard to hear. She shook her head and pointed at Monty.

  “This is part of the power shift. We need to get to Tristan before it gets worse.” She headed down the hallway to where Monty lay.

  “It gets worse?” I yelled, following her. This felt like walking in a hurricane, which I had always thought was a bad idea. She fell on one knee. When I reached down to help, I noticed that tendrils of energy had attached themselves to her. It was draining her magic.

  She pulled me close. “We’re running out of time. Your blade...You need to use your blade as a focus. It was the only way he was able to stop Beck even with the corsolis. Your blade weakened the Negomancer enough for Tristan to overwhelm him.”

  “My blade? What do you want me to do?”

  She pointed to a spot above my abdomen. “There. You have to stab him there and hold it in place.”

  “You want me to stab Monty?” I said in disbelief.

  “Only if you want him to live. Hurry,” she said and fell back, unconscious. I placed her gently on the floor and made my way to Monty. He lay on his stomach so I turned him over. He was unconscious. His sweat-slicked hair covered part of his face. I moved it out of the way. His skin was clammy and pale, his mouth fixed in its usual scowl. I didn’t think his facial muscles remembered how to form a smile.

  I unsheathed Ebonsoul and looked down at my friend. The tendrils of violet energy swirled around me and slammed into the blade, making it hard to keep my grip. The force of the energy was building momentum. I was sitting in the eye of a cyclonic vortex and it was getting worse.

  “Fuck, this sucks,” I said under my breath, then plunged Ebonsoul into his body.

  THIRTY-TWO

  I SAW MY hands burn first.

  Ebonsoul was created to deal with supernatural threats. It rendered their abilities null and void evening the playing field. It also siphoned life force and channeled it into me. It wasn’t meant to be a focus. The tendrils jumped from the blade to me and every muscle in my body contracted. The flow had reversed and now I was siphoning whatever Monty was going through.

  Ebonsoul wasn’t the focus; I was. My body couldn’t take it as my arms burst into violet flame.

  I managed to reach over with two fingers and touched my mark. White light shot out from the top of my left hand and everything came to a stop. Everything around me was slightly out of focus, but I couldn’t move. My arms were still burning and the energy had crept up higher.

  “That looks unpleasant,” a voice said from behind me. “Are you testing your immortality?”

  It was Karma. She stepped into my view and shook her head. She was wearing black leather with accents of black leather. Her boots creaked as she bent down to look into my face.

  “Hello, Karma,” I said with some effort. “Dominatrix looks good on you.”

  She gave me one of her predatory smiles and caressed my cheek. I flinched, expecting one of her skull-rocking taps, and she laughed.

  “I was on my way to a mage dungeon not far from here and needed to look the part, when I sensed you. Seems they had some minor disaster and I need to go establish balance. It promises to be painful—for them.”

  “Speaking of balance, you think you can restore some here?” I said, craning my neck to look up at her. Sweat poured into my eyes from the effort. “This energy is too much for me.”

  “I noticed. Your weapon isn’t designed to hold that much power, and frankly, neither are you—immortal or not.” She frowned as she looked closer at Monty. “This isn’t good.”

  “Really? What gave it away? The flames around my body or my blade sticking out of him?”

  “That mouth of yours is going to get you killed one day, splinter,” she said, and this time she did rock my skull with a brief slap. I flexed my jaw and shook my head until the spots cleared. I made a mental note not to let her punch me—ever.

  “Whose bright idea was this?” she asked, looking at me. “Not even you in all your supposed brilliance would think to use your weapon in this manner.”

  “It was hers,” I gestured at Quan with my head. “Made sense at the time.”

  “Stabbing a mage going through a power shift into ascendance with a siphoning weapon created to combat the supernatural made sense to you?” she said and grabbed my face. “This is a special kind of stupid, Simon.”

  “When you put it that way it does sound bad.” I stared back at her. “But he’s in trouble and I had to do something. I’m not just going to let him go dark and die alone.”

  She stood up and shook her head slowly. “No. It looks like you’re going to join him.”

  “Can you stop it?” I asked. “Or at least slow it down until Roxanne gets here with the three woods?”

  “No. I can’t alter this. It has to run its course. If I remove the blade—he goes dark and who knows what happens to you.” She stepped close and placed a hand on my shoulder. “All I can do is help you hold on, but you must not remove the blade. Do you understand?”

  “I’ll take any help I can get,” I whispered, struggling to form the words through the searing pain. Tears streamed uncontrollably down my face as the flames inched up my arms.

  “Not all help is beneficial—remember that.” She vanished as time snapped back, along with the force of the energy hurricane, threatening to rip me away from Monty. I noticed a golden lattice around my hands and Ebonsoul. It was the only thing keeping me in place. Well, that and the fact that Ebonsoul was buried in Monty’s abdomen.

  Through the haze of pain, I noticed movement beside me. It was Quan. I saw her gesture around something but I couldn’t make out what she was doing. There was something about being on fire that tends to distract you from anything happening around you. My body was losing the battle in the healing arena and I didn’t think I could hold on much longer, when Quan stepped into my view.

  “This is going to hurt—a lot,” she said and I could tell she held something in her hand. “Get ready.” She crouched down low, rotated her body, and slammed a palm into my chest. I went airborne and slammed into the wall at the other end of the hallway with bone-breaking force. I knew this because I felt a few ribs crack as I fell to the floor.

  I saw her take a short staff —similar to the one Master Yat used—and thrust it into the floor. The cyclonic energy around Monty streamed into the staff. After what felt like a lifetime, but was probably only a minute, at most, it stopped. As it dissipated, she fell to her knees with a relieved sigh.

  I shifted my weight to stand and my side screamed at me, letting me know it was a bad idea. I let my body begin the healing process, rested my head against the wall, and closing my eyes, slipped away into unconsciousness.

  Sometime later, a large tongue slapped me wetly across my face. I opened an eye to see Peaches staring at me balefully as I felt his drool begin to stiffen on my cheek.

 

  “No, thanks. I must have passed out,” I muttered as I stood slowly. “Weren’t you napping a little while ago?”

 

  “Stay away from him for now,” I said as I shuffled over to where Monty sat with Quan. “He’s dangerous and I don’t want you getting hurt again.”

  He gave me a short grumble as he padded next to me.

 

  “Are you speaking to your dog?” Cassandra said from behind me with a smirk. “Does he talk back?”

  “Actually, he does. When did you get here? How did you get here? The elevator is trashed.” I looked around. I located Roxanne near a stairwell directing staff onto the floor around the wreckage. “I don’t remember there being stairs leading down here.”

  “That’s because it was a black site. We put in the stairs in case
the elevator malfunctioned,” Roxanne said as she came close and examined and prodded me. In addition to being a sorceress, she was also a doctor. “You have multiple contusions, a few cracked ribs, from the feel of things, and second-degree—now first-degree—burns on both your arms. You should be fine in a few minutes.”

  Cassandra stood transfixed. She stared at my arms as they healed. “What the hell are you?” She pointed at my arms as the skin repaired itself and tissue reknit over the wounds.

  “You ever hear of Wolverine?” I said as I borrowed a jacket from one of the Haven staff.

  “Who?” she said, taking a step back. I was used to this reaction from anyone who saw what my body did when I was injured. The list of EMTs I’ve creeped out was a mile long.

  “The patron saint of badassery? He’s a mutant with crazy healing ability. I have that same condition. My body heals abnormally fast. That’s all.” I shrugged.

  “Bullshit, Wolverine is a character from a comic book. How stupid do you think I am? Healing condition, my ass.” She pointed at my chest. “Tell me the truth.”

  “Fine, the truth,” I said, shaking my head. “I pissed off a goddess who is probably the most powerful magic-user on the planet and she cursed me alive in a fit of rage. That is why my body heals the way it does.”

  Cassandra just stared at me. “You just don’t know when to be serious? Look around you. This shit just got real. Your friend almost died—we all almost died, and you’re making jokes? I’ll be upstairs. Ramirez will want to be in the loop.” She stormed off and up the stairs.

  “I—but…ugh,” was all I could manage as she disappeared.

  “Such eloquence,” Monty said with a groan as he stood and leaned on a staff. His midsection was bandaged but, other than a few scrapes, he looked fine. “Let her have some space, Simon. She needs to process all of this and it’s not easy.”

  “She needs to process? I’m still trying to figure out what happened.” I pointed at his bandage. “Sorry about the stabbing—Quan said it was the right thing to do.”

  “It wasn’t the most painless solution” —he gave her a sidelong glance—“but it did help, at least until I got this.” He held up the staff.

  “Wait, no way. Are you like Monty the White now? Kickass mage extraordinaire—Gandalf level?”

  “Is he always this way?” Quan asked as she helped Monty to the stairs. “I could seal him down here for a few millennia?”

  Monty shook his head. “He’d find a way to escape. There is no color attribution to mage ascendancy, Simon,” he said with a sigh. “The outcome is simple. You gain more power or it consumes you. In which case you go mad and dark.”

  “And get eliminated,” Quan added with a whisper. “Don’t forget that part.”

  “What happened, Monty? One moment you were fine and the next, whoosh—violet flames everywhere,” I said, looking at the staff. “Is this the three woods?”

  The dark wood gave off a subdued violet light. Three pieces of wood were wrapped around a fourth to form a whole.

  “I need this for a little while” —he held up the short staff—“at least until the power regulates within my body. My apologies for the barbeque.” He gestured to my arms. “I thought I was dealing with an erasure, not a shift.”

  “What does it do? I mean, besides look badass and make you debonair?”

  “It’s a repository,” he said. “Some magic is too powerful, especially during ascendancy. Objects can be imbued with power and they can take the strain when we can’t.” He hefted the staff in one hand. “This also acts as a force multiplier, amplifying the power of any spell I cast.”

  “That’s like the Chicago wizard. He uses a staff, except his is bigger. I’m sure that’s not an indication of power. Now that you have one, does this make you a wizard?” I asked, gesturing to the staff. “Is there a term for a mage with a staff? Magerd? Wizage?”

  He glanced in my direction and my Armani suit jacket disintegrated. “I’ve been looking for a reason to try this particular spell of unbinding. It works on a molecular level, but it’s highly unstable. I wonder how it would affect someone who is cursed alive?” He gave me a look as he rubbed his chin. “Would the curse keep you whole or would you fly apart like your jacket?”

  “That sounds excruciating,” I said, putting my hands up in mock surrender. “Let’s not. That was an Armani by the way. Can I have it back?”

  He gestured and my jacket reassembled around me. “Call me a wizard again and we can test the limits of your curse,” he said as we reached the main level and my phone went off.

  “Strong, we have a problem—a large one,” Ramirez said, his voice strained. “I have packs of Werewolves roaming the city. I don’t even want to imagine what this turns into in a few days.”

  “Do you have enough restraints?” I checked my inside pocket to make sure I had mine. “You’re going to need to make them stronger.”

  “I have Jhon working on them now and he’s making something else—a runic inhibitor, or something like that, supposed to be better than the restraints,” he said and grew quiet. “Strong, this is looking bad. Tell me you and the mage have a plan, or an army. Because the brass is thinking of razing them all and starting fresh.”

  “Are you insane?” I whispered and turned my back. “That’s genocide. You can’t just eliminate all of them.”

  “We don’t have the manpower to deal with a full-on Werewolf revolt,” he replied. “In case you haven’t noticed, humans don’t possess supernatural abilities. The NYTF doesn’t have enough silver to deal with this.”

  “They’re reacting in fear. You’re the director, goddammit, direct them, Angel,” I hissed. “You can’t let them do this. Every time we face a danger, we’re just going to wipe out everyone? What happened to secure, contain, and protect?”

  “That…was a beautiful speech, Strong. So much passion. I’ll make sure to repeat it to them when they order the destruction of all Werewolves, to protect the humans in the city. I’m sure they’ll see things your way.”

  “Fuck,” I said under my breath. “Give me until the full moon. If we haven’t put a stop to this by then it won’t matter.”

  “I agree. By then those of us left will be fighting for our lives. One other thing—stop scaring the shit out of my lieutenant. She called me, spouting some nonsense about gods and how you can self-heal in seconds while you grow back skin.”

  “It was a harmless prank.” I looked over to where Cassandra stood and I waved. She gave me the stink-eye and turned away. She was on the phone, having an animated conversation of her own. I had a good guess as to whom she was speaking with.

  “You have three days, Strong, or they release their final solution,” he said slowly. “And it won’t matter if I’m the director or not if we’re all dead.”

  He ended the call and I looked up and caught Monty’s eye. He walked over with Quan and Roxanne beside him.

  “How bad?” Monty asked as he leaned on his staff.

  “Does the NYTF possess any artifact that could eliminate all of the Werewolves? Something they would consider a ‘final solution’ if they felt it was the only way to deal with a threat? You know, something the mages may have overlooked after the war?” I gave him a look.

  He rubbed his chin. “Not to my knowledge. We determined the negation rune belonged to a private collector, which is why the MCRU missed it. But something that can specifically target lycanthropes? I don’t think so.”

  “Are you sure? There isn’t a spell, a rune, or something that kills only Werewolves?”

  “Nothing I’ve heard of,” he said, still rubbing his chin. “If there was, it would require a complex spell with a simple delivery system. A mage would need to create a ‘smart spell’ to target a specific species.”

  “There is,” Roxanne said quietly.

  THIRTY-THREE

  “IT’S A SILVER-nitrate-based airborne contagion,” Roxanne said. “The government was working on it a few years back—it’s called AGNO-3.
They wanted a way to deal with the Werewolf population if they ever became a threat.”

  “I thought silver nitrate was harmful to humans too?” I said. “If they release that into the air, they’ll kill humans.”

  “Those will be called ‘acceptable losses’ if it eliminates all of the Werewolves,” Monty said and then looked at Roxanne.

  “No, it was created with magic-users,” Roxanne answered and pulled out her phone. “AGNO-3 will target only lycanthropes. That’s how it’s designed.”

  “Do you have any of this AGNO-3?” Monty asked, his voice grim. His knuckles turned white as he gripped his staff.

  “Every supernatural detention facility carries a small amount of it on site in case of a Werewolf going rogue or attacking the staff,” she said before calling a staff member over. “It’s always a last resort since the effects are lethal. We keep it secure on the medical wing.”

  “I need to see it,” Monty said.

  Roxanne nodded, then spoke to the staff member who approached. “Lydia will direct you to where it’s kept. I need to coordinate with teams downstairs. Sub-level four will be shut down for the duration.”

  “What about Beck?” I said. She gave me a look of confusion. “Professor dark and nasty? Looks like he’s having the worst mascara day in history? Fires black orbs of energy?”

  “The Negomancer,” she said with sudden realization. “He will be returned to the Dark Council. We don’t want him here.”

  “He tried to erase Monty,” I said in disbelief as Roxanne rummaged through her pockets. “He was going—”

  “He was doing his job,” she said placing her hands on her hips. “What do you suggest I do? Place him in a cell and forget he exists? This is not a black site anymore. We don’t ‘disappear’ people, Simon.”

  “I just thought that he should be held for a while,” I said. “Just until we get this all sorted out.”

  “You thought wrong. We have no jurisdiction to hold him. If I do that, I have to deal with the Council—no, thank you. I need to get downstairs and oversee this disaster. Before I go”—she turned to Quan and gave her a hug—“thank you for saving him.”