Dragons & Demigods: A Montague & Strong Detective Novel (Montague & Strong Case Files Book 6) Read online

  Contents

  Dragons

  FOREWORD

  Dedication

  Dedication

  All fathers are invisible in daytime; daytime is r...

  ONE

  TWO

  THREE

  FOUR

  FIVE

  SIX

  SEVEN

  EIGHT

  NINE

  TEN

  ELEVEN

  TWELVE

  THIRTEEN

  FOURTEEN

  FIFTEEN

  SIXTEEN

  SEVENTEEN

  EIGHTEEN

  NINETEEN

  TWENTY

  TWENTY-ONE

  TWENTY-TWO

  TWENTY-THREE

  TWENTY-FOUR

  TWENTY-FIVE

  TWENTY-SIX

  TWENTY-SEVEN

  TWENTY-EIGHT

  TWENTY-NINE

  THIRTY

  THIRTY-ONE

  THIRTY-TWO

  Cast

  ORGANIZATIONS

  AUTHOR NOTES

  Contact me:

  Still here? Amazing! Well, if you’ve made it this ...

  Bullets & Blades

  ONE

  Thank you for reading

  Acknowledgments

  ART Shredders

  About the Author

  Copyright

  Dragons

  &

  Demigods

  A Montague and Strong Detective Agency Novel

  By

  Orlando A. Sanchez

  FOREWORD

  In the course of writing a book, which for me, is usually a few months, life happens. Events unfold, some good, and some bad. I started writing dedications to honor those moments and people, to find some way to express my respect and heartfelt feelings for the pain and joy we all share, because we are all connected. We are all one.

  Life and Death are inextricably intertwined. Sometimes as a writer, I think a book or story is about one thing when it’s really about something else that blindsides you after the book is done. That happened to me with this book. I write primarily to entertain and to provide my amazing readers with a few moments of escape. I want to provide a few moments of light in what can be a very dark world.

  Simon is an immortal and rather than having a casual or flippant attitude towards life, he is very aware that he can lose those closest to him, his family. That’s not to say that he always approaches the subject seriously. Part of what makes him who he is, is that even in the face of danger and certain death, he can find a moment of lightness, much to Monty’s aggravation.

  That’s what I want you to take away. When it seems like it’s the end and there is no hope, find the light in the darkness. Even the faintest light can blaze like the sun in darkness. Be the light, we have enough darkness in this world.

  Dedication

  For every parent who has had to do the unthinkable

  I wrote and deleted this dedication several times. Part of me felt it would make the book too dark. In the end, I felt I needed to say this because these parents need to be honored. Death is a part of life we can’t avoid. I learned this fact very young.

  I’m not going to mention any names because this wound never heals. Time doesn’t make it easier and no words could ever convey the loss and constant pain of losing a child. I had to go into some very dark places to write the character of George Rott for this book. As a father, I felt his pain and understood his motivation. I know what it is to carry a casket for a child, and I wish it upon no one.

  This dedication is to let all who have gone through this know that I understand your pain and loss. That you are not alone. Your daily battle with grief and anger has not gone unnoticed. There are no words that can aptly describe this experience and I won’t try here.

  On those days when it gets too heavy and life feels a little darker, remember: there are shoulders to rest on. We got you.

  Dedication

  For Chaos & Dizzy

  My first dog, Juno, passed away when I was in my late teens. He woke up one day at the ripe old age of 16 and his hind legs decided they were done. No more walking. He looked at me, gave me a wag as if to say “I have to go, but it’s going to be okay. You’re going to be okay. We’ve had a massively great run, but it’s time for me to leave.”

  He had been with me since he was eight weeks old and had been there for most of my life. I picked him up with tears in my eyes. We made a last trip to the vet. I held him as they put him to sleep and vowed to never feel that pain again. Fast forward twenty years and I have my awesome boxer, named Winter, and I’m looking at getting an actual Peaches to join the family.

  I will always remember Juno fondly. He was a terrier-Tasmanian devil mutt that terrorized our neighborhood and I loved him fiercely. We still tell stories about him in our family. In that way he still lives on and is with us.

  This dedication is for all those who have lost furry family members. They love us unconditionally, fill our days with laughter and sometimes groans, but we love them just the same and can’t imagine our lives without them.

  All fathers are invisible in daytime; daytime is ruled by mothers and fathers come out at night. Darkness brings home fathers, with their real, unspeakable power. There is more to fathers than meets the eye. -Margaret Atwood

  So comes the snow after the fire and even dragons have their endings.-J.R.R. Tolkien

  ONE

  “MONTY, ARE YOU certain this is necessary?” I looked up from the pile of reports on my desk.

  He finished polishing his swords, the Sorrows, and resheathed them. A soft cry escaped the blades as they disappeared into the back cross-sheaths and vanished from sight.

  “It’s either this, or we risk angering the entire family. This is the best solution, Simon.”

  “You know we need to address this Rott situation before he does something that gets him killed and takes us along for the ride.”

  I remembered the last time I’d spoken to George Rott, Cassandra’s father:

  “You owe me, and you owe her.”

  “Listen, George, I don’t know what you found, but why don’t we meet to discuss this?”

  “I found them,” he whispered. “I found the dragons.”

  “We need to address this first.” Monty pulled on one of his sleeves, reached for a cup of tea sitting on the desk, and headed to the back room. “They should be here shortly.”

  “Is Dex coming?”

  “He’ll meet us there. We have guests to escort.”

  Between London and the Sanctuary, we hadn’t been in the city for a week or so. Ramirez had been leaving me messages about strange activity downtown near the South Street Seaport. These events seemed to coincide with the increase in runic activity occurring near the Hellfire Club. I didn’t like the timing, especially with George out hunting dragons.

  If it had been just a grieving father, that would be one thing, but George ‘Rottweiler’ Rott had also led NYTF’s Shadow Company—the company I served in a lifetime ago.

  His skills made him dangerous and resourceful. He wasn’t a man to be taken lightly in the best of circumstances. Now, he was blinded by revenge for his daughter. This was going to get ugly fast. I was about to pick up the phone to call Ramirez, when a knock interrupted me.

  “That them?” I holstered Grim Whisper and sheathed Ebonsoul. Peaches rolled over, nearly crushing my legs. I tried shoving him over, but he didn’t budge.

  e down anywhere else in the office, you know.>

 

  The knock sounded again.

  “Unless you’re expecting your vampire, I would imagine so,” Monty called out. “I have one more item to secure before we leave. Can you let them in?”

  I stood up and approached the door, when I saw the ice creep along the floor and enter the office.

  “Monty? I think you need to get this one…unless we have a blowtorch handy?”

  The temperature in the office dropped by about twenty degrees, and we entered a mini ice age as frost started to form on the door and creep around the frame.

  “Are you ready?” he asked, walking up to the door.

  “For what, frostbite?”

  He glared at me, reminding me that our guests weren’t exactly friendly. He gestured and formed an orb of flame around his hand as he opened the door.

  Three of the most beautiful women I’d seen in my entire life stood at our door. Three sets of sky-blue eyes blazed at us with thinly-veiled violence behind them.

  Each of their faces was framed by white-blond hair. The fact that I could see combat armor under their long white leather coats did little to put me at ease.

  Their energy signatures were strong enough to give me pause. Ice mages made me nervous after our brief but homicidal encounter with the not-so-stable Steigh Cea.

  I hoped her sisters weren’t as prone to spontaneous violence. The center woman, who was the tallest of the three, stepped into our office. The remaining two turned their backs on us and stayed outside the door.

  “Well met, Hekla,” Monty said with a nod. “Are you ready?”

  Hekla nodded and took in our office remaining silent for a few seconds. Her eyes lingered on Peaches and she sniffed with a hint of disgust. Maybe it was an ice-mage thing, but she had the condescending look down to an artform. I almost wanted to run to my room and straighten it up.

  “I’m here to secure the runic neutralizer, mage,” she said, her husky voice filling the office. “If I deem your location of choice to be inadequate, I will relocate it to our home, as per our agreement. My sisters will remain here until I return.”

  “Understood.” Monty gestured and formed a large circle on the floor. “We will be traveling to Fordey Boutique. I have chosen them to keep the neutralizer safe, and I have some matters to attend to there.”

  “Proceed.” She waved her hand as if we were boring her just by existing. “Do you need assistance with your circle?”

  “Thank you for the offer, but I believe I can manage.”

  She looked down when Peaches stepped into the circle with us. “This infernal thing will be traveling with us?”

  “He has a habit of following me around,” I said, barely containing my anger. I rubbed Peaches’ head, and he rumbled extra loudly. “It’s better if Peaches joins us.”

  She stepped to the other side of the circle and nodded to Monty. “Carry on, mage.”

  Monty gestured as white runes floated around us. With a last sweep of his arm, the office disappeared.

  TWO

  WE STEPPED OUT of the circle and into what I assumed was Fordey Boutique. The last time I’d been here, all of the available floor space had been covered in boxes and crates. The walls had held warped shelves appearing to be on the verge of collapse. This time, all that was gone.

  We stood in an open reception area the size of an enormous hotel lobby. A large, gleaming, golden X, outlined in red, dominated the center of the black marble floor. It reflected the light pouring in from a domed window set in the ceiling. I looked around, and wondered if we had taken a detour to a museum.

  The only pieces furniture I saw were the white marble benches situated along the wall at even intervals. Small recessed alcoves were above each bench.

  An intricately carved, white marble statue stood inside each alcove. All of the statues were in action poses except for one. I walked over to that one and realized it was a statue of TK.

  This statue stood with her hands resting on a sword, point down. Her legs were slightly apart and the lifelike expression on her face was a cross between a scowl and a smile, as if to say, ‘step closer so I can shred you’.

  I shuddered. The statue only captured a fraction of the intensity TK possessed. I moved around the room and examined some of the others. I found one for LD, Rene, and Jonno. I didn’t recognize the rest of them, but I assumed this was a space dedicated to the Ten.

  “This is Fordey?”

  “Yes and no.” Monty gestured and the circle beneath us vanished. “This is the Hall of the Ten. It’s connected to Fordey through that corridor.”

  “What corridor?” I turned in the direction he pointed, and an archway materialized. “Oh, that corridor.”

  A figure stepped through the archway. She was dressed in a flowing white robe, which was covered in silver runic brocade. Her long, black hair cascaded behind her as she stood in the corridor without entering the Hall of the Ten.

  “She’s waiting for us to follow.” Monty stepped forward and approached the woman.

  “Is that a Wordweaver?”

  “Yes.” Monty, who was usually scowly, was going for extra grim today. Even Hekla, who previously had appeared arrogant seemed humbled by the presence of the Wordweaver.

  Peaches nudged my leg, nearly tearing my ACL, and rumbled.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

  He chuffed in response and padded off.

  “What are Wordweavers doing in Fordey? Do you owe them a book?”

  “No,” he said with a sigh, “they are here to witness the Reckoning.”

  The Wordweaver turned and led the way once we entered the corridor.

  “And the Reckoning needs witnesses because…?”

  “In addition to the Triad, Wordweavers officiate, observe and, more importantly, enforce the rules established by the parties of a Reckoning. In this case, TK and myself.”

  TK’s words came back to me: Because of the regard in which I hold your uncle…blood and power.

  “Blood and power?”

  “Yes, those are the conditions.”

  “That sounds painful. Can’t you just do some community service here at the boutique? Stock some shelves or clean out the inventory? Maybe do a few delivery runs with LD?”

  “No. This needs to happen. At least it’s not to the death. That would put Uncle Dex in an awkward position. I’ll need to remember to thank TK for that.”

  “That’s your concern? Dex being put in an awkward position?”

  “Yes. As a direct blood relative, he must stand by me during a Reckoning, but TK, LD, and the others are also his family, even if they’re not blood. TK allowed him to fulfill his duty as my uncle without sacrificing his relationship with them. She allowed him to save face.”

  “As she rips off yours. TK is powerful, Monty.” I looked ahead at the Wordweaver. “Does she know where she’s going? I don’t remember the boutique being this large.”

  “Time and relative dimension in space aren’t fixed constructs in Fordey Boutique. This design is based on the Corridors of Chaos. I doubt she’ll get lost here.”

  The Wordweaver led us down several corridors in silence. Hekla must have sensed we were in a magical construct. She kept her distance but didn’t let us get too far away
from her. It was either that or she didn’t like being near Peaches, who rumbled at her every time she got too close.

  “Can you forfeit?”

  “No. This isn’t a game. To forfeit would be an affront to TK and a loss of face for my uncle. He’d kill me if I forfeited. He’s quite touchy about the family name.”

  “Yes, he’s a bit of a traditionalist, even though the family doesn’t really like him. How many Montagues are there?”

  “Our family is not very large, but we are influential in the mage community. With the death of my father, Uncle Dex will have to assume some responsibility at the Sanctuary.”

  “I bet he’s going to love that.”

  “It can’t be helped. A Montague has been an Elder in the Sanctuary since its inception.” He brushed some hair out of his face. “In any case, I tried to tether a Smith Bridge to TK and must face the consequences of my actions.”

  “You did what you thought was best, considering the circumstances. It was a horrible idea, but I get it. The no-forfeit clause sucks, though.”

  “There’s another reason I can’t forfeit,” he added. “A forfeit could shift the conditions from blood and power to death.”

  “But TK wouldn’t take it that far, right? Would she?”

  “It would be out of her hands at that point. The Triads hold the right to determine the new condition in the event of a forfeit.”

  “Who makes up these Triads?” I looked around. “Is it Dex, Peaches, and me?”

  “A mage, an immortal, and a shifter have to form the Triad. You can’t be part of the Triad.”

  “But I’m an—?”

  “As my shieldbearer,” he said with a look that meant ‘shut up before you divulge something important,’ “you can’t be part of the Triad. I’ve found a substitute.”

  “What about TK? Does she need this ‘Triad’ group too?”

  He nodded. “Yes, that’s the tradition, to ensure the rules of the Reckoning are observed.”

  “Six powerful individuals in a room watching a fight. That doesn’t sound like a recipe for disaster at all.”

  The Wordweaver made a few more turns and led us down several dimly lit corridors. Most of them had shelving of some kind holding all sorts of items. At the end of one of these corridors, we came to another thick steel door.