“You have no way of keeping that promise,” Monty said. “Bloody hell, what about next time? The next time someone like Evers surfaces or some creature decides I need to pay and targets her? Then what?”
“Then we stop them, too,” I said, gently, noticing that the water in the kettle was beginning to boil. “Monty? Maybe not melt your favorite kettle?”
He looked down suddenly.
“Bollocks,” he said, placing the kettle on the stove and leaving the kitchen. “I’ll be in my room. I still have much to prepare.”
“I got the tea,” I said. “Try not to blast a hole in your room.”
<Go with him, boy. Make sure he stays close.>
<He is close. Will you fill my bowl?>
<Later, yes. Make sure he calms down and doesn’t break anything.>
<Should I lick him? My saliva will calm him down.>
<I’m sure your multi-purpose saliva is awesome, but don’t lick him right now. He needs some quiet time.>
<I’m very good with quiet time. The angry man should take a nap. Naps always make me feel better.>
<I agree. Naps are excellent, but he’s not a hellhound. Go and watch him.>
Peaches padded off after Monty. The fact that I didn’t hear my name yelled out in anger a few seconds after Peaches invaded Monty’s space let me know how serious this was. My hellhound was rarely, if ever, allowed into the Montague inner sanctum.
Monty had declared his space a drool-free zone, and if there was one thing Peaches was exceptional at, it was the creation of his healing saliva. When the kettle had gone from dull orange to normal gray, I grabbed an oven mitt and started the Earl Grey process.
I had learned how to do this some time ago. It was different from the creation of my magnificent Deathwish javambrosia, but I had realized after some time that Monty without tea was a danger to us all. It was a risk I wasn’t willing to take. For the sake of the tri-state area, I learned the “proper” way to make boiled leaves in case we ever faced the emergency an out-of-control Montague would be.
I didn’t think we were quite there yet, but I knew if Monty could reduce the Shadow Company trailer to dust without risking Roxanne, he would have. They had raised the stakes by threatening her. What they didn’t know is that they had signed their own death warrants.
I sat on the Eames to rest my eyes for a few minutes.
TWENTY-FOUR
It was early afternoon when I opened my eyes.
I had managed to catch a few hours of sleep and woke with a start. I dreamed I was drowning, my head being held underwater. I realized the reality wasn’t too far off as I pushed Peaches, the saliva monster, away from my face.
<You were napping. That’s good. Can you fill my bowl now?>
<Where’s Monty?>
<The angry man is sitting on the floor with his eyes closed. Is he napping? I always like to be comfortable when I’m napping. He doesn’t look comfortable, he looks angry.>
<That’s his default face. He’s fine. Let’s give him some time. We have a rough day ahead.>
<Will you fight the dragon man?>
<You know about dragons?>
<Yes. Dragons are big fire lizards. They are bad.>
<So do you understand that Frank is not a dragon?>
<He is a special dragon. He is a dragon inside his mind.>
<Inside his mind? What he is is out of his mind.>
<The man in the truck smells bad, like a dragon. Are you going to fight him?>
<He wants to do some bad things. I need to stop him.>
<Can I bite him?>
<Yes, but not until I tell you to. Can you wait?>
Peaches gave me a low rumble and his eyes flickered with red light.
<I can wait.>
Monty came in wearing a new Zegna mageiform. This one was a deeper black than usual with dark gray accents. The menace that radiated from his side of the room was palpable, but I didn’t say anything except point to the cup of tea on the counter.
“Thank you,” Monty said, causing the cup to glow a soft orange, and bringing the water to a slow boil before taking a sip. “You’ve improved. I can almost drink this now.”
I took a sip from my cold Deathwish and raised my cup in acknowledgement.
“If you drank a real drink, and not boiled grass, you’d know what real power was,” I said. “You ready?”
“Yes; one stop before we go.”
“Where?”
“We need to rectify our insurance plan.”
“Rectify our…? Wait, we’re going to see the—”
“No, but I have a solution to our Haven problem.”
“What? You’re going to ask her to shift the entire place?”
“Don’t be daft,” Monty said, heading to the door. “That would be impossible. Or at the very least improbable.”
“Oh,” I said, slightly relieved. “I mean of course, that would be impossible. Haven is enormous, above and underground.”
“Exactly. I’m going to have her shift everyone inside.”
The words registered as sound, but my brain failed to process the meaning behind the sounds.
“I’m sorry,” I said as we stepped into the garage elevator. “I thought I heard you say you were going to ask her to shift everyone inside Haven. Is this more of that non-funny mage humor?”
“No, the Transporter was one of my calls earlier,” Monty said calmly. “The next stop is to secure payment and to preserve history.”
“I know you’re speaking English, but most of the time it sounds like a foreign language,” I said confused. “Can you clarify in non-mage American?”
“Not here,” Monty said. “I’ll explain everything at James’ establishment.”
We arrived at the empty Randy Rump a few minutes later. It was still too early for the evening rush. I parked outside and locked the Dark Goat. Monty and Peaches went ahead as I gave the exterior a scan. If Rell was out there, he was making sure I didn’t see him. Jimmy was behind the counter, sharpening some blades as I crossed the threshold into the restaurant. He motioned over to the corner with his chin. Peaches padded over behind the counter and
