Being a Caucasian Mountain dog meant that Cece had to stretch to wrap her arms around Rags’ neck. She managed, but just barely. Rags gently shook herself out of Cece’s grip and stepped closer to me.
<Thank you for keeping the Miss safe. It appears the entity that attempted to control her has been dispatched.>
<You’re welcome. Yes, Monty did the dispatching.>
<Without harming my charge—impressive. I owe you both a debt of gratitude. This does not include your hellhound.>
<He did remove you from harm’s way.>
Peaches gave off a low rumble. Rags was not impressed.
<Was I in imminent danger?>
<I couldn’t really tell. It looked like...>
<Then he did no such thing. What he did was remove me from the side of my charge when she needed me the most.>
<That’s not exactly what happened. I told him to…>
<Thank you for keeping her safe. In the future, if there is another incident, please take the necessary steps to make sure I am conscious before trying to relocate me. Understood?>
<Yes. I still don’t understand how I can hear you.>
<You are getting stronger. I’m sure the mage can explain it to you.>
<I’ll ask him. I’m sure Monty has some questions for Cece as well. She found a shortcut to the sequence Monty gave her.>
<I told the Miss not to alter the sequence. Perhaps next time she will listen.>
<Unlikely, but good luck.>
I had the feeling that Peaches was going to have to be ultra-impressive to get Rags’ admiration and attention. Something close to stopping a world-ending asteroid or facing a group of dragons—alone—might do the trick. Anything short of that would probably be dismissed by the super guardian.
“I’ll escort them upstairs,” Monty said, glancing at Cece. “I have a few questions about this ‘shortcut,’ and I need to install some stronger deterrents to runic manipulation by a certain Jotnar ice mage.”
“I can show you my shortcut, Mr. Montague,” Cece said, eagerly. “It really works!”
“Better let Olga know she needs to install a new door on Cece’s place too.”
“We need to discuss why shortcuts can be a dangerous thing,” Monty said, leading her away to the stairs. “After I bolster the defenses in your home, and get you a new door.”
“I’ll get the Dark Goat,” I called out before the door to the stairwell closed behind them. “Don’t forget we have a meeting downtown.”
Peaches nudged me, nearly launching me across the lobby.
<What?>
<I did rescue her.>
<Did you tell her that?>
<I started with meat, but she only kept asking about the cold girl.>
<Did you tell her Cece was with Monty and me?>
<I tried, but she didn’t listen.>
<So, you explained that you rescued her, didn’t you?>
<I started with meat. She didn’t care. How can she not care about meat?>
<She’s a guardian. Cece is more important to her than any amount of meat. Just like I’m sure I’m more important to you than any meat—right?>
<What kind of meat?>
<Really? ‘What kind of meat’ is your answer?>
<You’re my bondmate. You are important. Meat is important too.>
<I’m not even going to dignify that with an…>
The energy signature that filled the lobby stopped me mid-sentence.
“It’s rude to keep Death waiting, Simon.”
I recognized the voice—Mori.
ELEVEN
“Hello, Peaches,” Mori said, patting my hellhound on the head and managing not to have said arm removed. She reached into her bag and produced two large sausages. “Here you go.”
Peaches gently removed them from Mori’s outstretched hand and then proceeded to vacuum them into his bottomless pit of a stomach.
<Would you at least say thank you before stuffing your face?>
<Isn’t it better to say thank you after stuffing my face? I won’t know how the meat tastes until I eat it. What if it’s like your healthy meat, and breaks my stomach? I don’t want to say thank you if it’s bad.>
It was hard to argue with hellhound logic.
<You say thank you before you stuff your face, to acknowledge the gesture. She thought about you enough to bring sausage.>
<That was very thoughtful. Should I lick her?>
<A small bark should be enough. Small—do not blast her across the lobby nor destroy the building. Olga would really kick us out if you did that today.>
Peaches hunched down and let out a small bark of thanks. The sound traveled across the lobby with a rumble, forcing Andrei to step outside in fear for his life.
<I said small.>
<That was small. I even made myself small.>
“Sorry about that,” I said. “We’re still working on communication.”
“No need to apologize for him,” Mori said, rubbing Peaches across the head and flank. “You and the mage, however, are making Ezra wait…not exactly the best idea. Did you not get my messages?”
“Messages?” I asked. “What messages?”
Mori was tall, and she was dressed in what I imagined was the combat version of Ezra’s outfit. Under her jacket, dual shoulder holsters held two hand cannons and rested over a black Kevlar vest bristling with extra magazines.
Under the vest, she wore a dragonscale ensemble of black pants, a white dress shirt, and finished off with a pair of black Dr. Martens steel-toed Hynines. Mori stared at me as she pushed up the pair of glasses on the bridge of her nose. Her tight bun and icy glare reminded me of Karma. I shuddered involuntarily.
“Are you kidding me?” Mori said with a sigh. “Ezra sent you a message the moment you got back from your little trip overseas.”
“We were headed to him when we were sidetracked.”
“Sidetracked? It’s like disasters follow the three of you. What happened?”
I explained about The Moscow and how it almost became The Rubble.
“Well, that’s one way to miss my messages.”
I nodded. “I couldn’t even speak with Peaches,” I said. “I didn’t know she was that strong.”
“This was the Jotnar child’s doing?” Mori said, narrowing her eyes and examining the building. “Alone?”
“Monty says she hit a shift.”
“No kidding, she hit a shift,” Mori said, and let out a low whistle. “This complicates things. She almost took out the whole structure?”
“Complicates things?” I asked. “What do you mean, it complicates things? What does it complicate?”
“We will deal with that later. Right now—as in this
