Walking The Razor: A Montague & Strong Detective Novel by Orlando A. Sanchez

Author:Orlando A. Sanchez [Sanchez, Orlando A.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Bitten Peaches Publishing
Published: 2020-12-04T22:00:00+00:00

TWENTY-ONE

The first thing I felt and heard was Peaches’ wet muzzle push my face with a worried whine. Then he growled. I felt the tremor race across the floor, originating in his chest, and radiating outward from him in sonic ripples. He spread his forelegs and blocked my view.

“Strong,” Erik said slowly. “Inform your hellhound we’re trying to help you.”

“It’s okay, boy,” I said, patting my hellhound’s flanks weakly. “Let them pass.”

<He hurt you. Can I bite him now?>

“Later,” I said softly. “Not now.”

“Strong, we can’t do this later,” Erik said. “You need attention now.”

“Sorry, not you,” I said weakly. “Was talking to my hellhound.”

I didn’t chance communicating with Peaches in our normal way…my brain still felt tender, and I ached all over.

<You’re hurt. I will lick you and that will help.>

I winced as his voice slammed into my head.

<Let’s talk later, boy. My everything hurts right now, especially my head.>

<If I lick you, you will get better.>

<Not so loud. Save the licking for later. I’ll get better, I just need time.>

<You don’t smell bad anymore. You smell like you.>

<Thanks, I think. Let Erik pass. He wants to help me.>

Peaches moved over to the side with a low rumble, allowing Erik and several of the Harlequin access to my mangled body. They gently scooped me up from the floor and suspended me in mid-air, before placing me on the table. I hadn’t realized how strong the Harlequin were, but it made sense. They weren’t window dressing; they were the security for the Hellfire Club.

Erik wouldn’t pick a group of weak women to protect his mage club—he’d get the best, which also meant the strongest. I was pretty certain they were all like Master Yat, wielding their tonfa the way he wielded his staff, skillfully and painfully when the situation required it.

“Secure him,” Erik said, his voice distant. “Make sure the table is horizontal. I don’t want him falling off. How did you break free?”

“I didn’t,” I said, looking at the ruined straps. “They just fell apart. Maybe get better quality next time?”

“Strong, that was the highest quality leather,” Erik answered. “I runed and reinforced those straps myself. There was no way you should have been able to destroy them.”

“Probably wasn’t me then,” I said, my voice raspy. “Could they have just been worn out from too much use?”

“What happened to him?” Jessikah asked. “He looks awful, like he’s been beaten…severely and repeatedly.”

“Thanks,” I said, barely able to form the word. “I feel that way, too. Some water would be good.”

Erik glanced at one of the Harlequin, and motioned with a hand. She left the room only to return a few seconds later, with a silver pitcher and a large glass, setting it to one side.

“What happened, Strong?” Erik asked as he poured me half a glass of water, holding it out to me. “Here, drink this, slowly. Do not guzzle it.”

“I don’t think you’d believe me if I told you,” I said, after taking a few sips of the water. It was delicious.

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