Even though this team was smaller than the lobby and reception squad, these were heavy-hitters, and I wasn’t Monty. One of the energy signatures was off the charts and I actually paused in my approach. The one who had focused my attention was the tall, burly man standing closest to me and effectively barring my path.
Actually, he was wide enough to bar anyone’s path and comfortably take up all the remaining space in the corridor. It never crossed my mind that some sorcerers trained their bodies as well as their minds.
My image of them was always of the stereotypical bookworm studying in a dusty library, practicing how to cast, and learning arcane finger wiggles. Clearly, I was mistaken here. This sorcerer looked like he bench-pressed the library after studying in it.
They all wore rune-inscribed combat armor, but I could tell from the way he stood and the look in his eyes that the first sorcerer had seen action. Deadly action.
Time to break out the diplomacy.
“Good morning, Mr. Strong,” the sorcerer closest to me said. His voice was a deep baritone that reverberated in the corridor. “Visiting Mr. Montague?”
“I’d like to,” I said, looking up into his face. He stood at least six inches taller than me. The full beard gave him a rogue lumberjack look. “You are?”
“Elias Pirn,” he said, holding out a massive hand about the size of my head. “I’m lead security here. If you need anything, don’t hesitate to ask.”
I gave his hand a firm shake and nodded to the rest of the group. They all returned the nod and then went back to standing relaxed, but alert. Elias and his team were dangerous. They made Tank and the group downstairs look like the novice B-team. Up here, I was dealing with the professional A-team.
The lethal A-team.
“Thank you for keeping him safe,” I said. “I’m sure he’s been a royal pain in the ass.”
Two of the sorcerers exchanged glances and smiles.
“Nothing we can’t handle,” Elias said quickly, shutting down the smiles with a look. “We’ve guarded…challenging clients in the past. Mr. Montague is not much of a problem, once you get to know him.”
“You must have a different Montague in there then,” I said with a small laugh. “I need to bring my hell—er, my very large canine-like partner with. That okay?”
“If he’s on this floor, Director DeMarco approved it,” Elias answered. “Not an issue with us, unless he starts destroying property. Hellhounds aren’t known for their delicate natures. Has he been fed in the last hour?”
“A few minutes ago,” I said, impressed. “You know about hellhounds?”
“I’ve never met a puppy, but yes,” Elias answered, glancing down at Peaches with a raised eyebrow. “Forces of nature and damn near impossible to stop.”
“That sounds about right,” I said, rubbing my hellhound’s head. “But Peaches is an above-average hellhound.”
“You’ve come across many hellhounds, then?” Elias asked, still looking down at my own superbly behaved hellhound. “Did you say Peaches?”
“Just one other, his dad,” I said. “Yes, his name is Peaches.”
“He seems okay at this size; it’s when they get super-sized that they become truly dangerous,” Elias replied, looking at me. “Not a situation I want to revisit in my life ever again. At least not without an ample amount of RPGs. Know what I mean?”
It was a subtle, not-so-subtle message: Keep your hellhound under control or we will.
“They can be a handful,” I said with a chuckle that never reached my eyes. “Peaches is an awesome hellhound. He’ll behave, and I’d never let any harm come to him. Not while I’m breathing. Know what I mean?”
“I’m glad we see eye to eye on things,” Elias said, stepping to one side. “We aren’t equipped to deal with a hellhound level of property damage.”
“Property destruction is so not his thing. Now, sausages—well, he loses his mind for those.”
<I don’t lose my mind. I just think meat is the most important thing.>
<More important than your bondmate?>
Silence.
<Really?>
<I’m thinking. I would say it’s close. Does my bondmate have meat?>
<Good to see my importance is conditional on how much meat I can carry.>
<How much meat can you carry?>
<Whatever I can carry is never enough for a certain black-hole hellhound I know.>
<Too much is never enough, when it comes to meat.>
Elias gave me a nod and a tight smile, motioning to the door at the far end of the corridor.
“Right that way, Mr. Strong,” Elias said. “I’m sure Mr. Montague will be glad to see you.”
I walked past the four sorcerers and into the null zone. The shift in energy prickled against my skin, as I pushed on the door.
Nothing happened.
“Apologies,” Elias said, walking into the null zone. With a gesture, he placed an orange-glowing hand on the door, unlocking it. “The locks are runically enhanced for safety. They default to being locked.”
“Are you saying Monty is locked in?” I felt the anger rise within. “Why is he locked in?”
“Monty?” Elias asked, giving me a look. “Mr. Montague?”
“Yes, Mr. Montague. You have him locked in for his safety?”
“For his safety?” Elias asked. “You misunderstand. The locks on the door are for our safety, not his.”
“Oh,” I said, chagrined. “I thought you were keeping him here against—”
“Have a good visit,” Elias said, cutting me off and moving out of the null zone. “Please don’t agitate him. That would be…unpleasant for everyone involved.”
It wasn’t lost on me that Elias could cast while standing next to me…in the null zone.
It was a subtle show of force that said: We can control your access, and we aren’t scared of your hellhound. Keep it frosty, and you can leave here in one piece. Bring the heat, and we will burn you down.
Roxanne wasn’t kidding with these four.
I gave Elias a brief nod and pushed the door open, stepping into Monty’s room.
I paused to catch my breath at the sheer scope of the room. Roxanne had spared no expense renovating the space into…I wanted to say a patient
