then I looked out at the survivors again. “Eat up. It might keep your bodies intact, keep you more or less human. But there’s only one place you can feed. If I find you anywhere else, I put you down.”
“Where should we go, Domino?” Anton asked. “I’m hungry already.”
“You go find Mobley and his boys, Anton.”
Adan came up behind me and whispered in my ear. “Domino, no, you can’t do this. You don’t even know Mobley was responsible for that thing.”
I turned and looked at him, and whatever he saw in my eyes made him step back. “I know,” I said. “I tasted his fucking juice on it.”
I turned back to Anton and nodded. “Go on,” I said, and smiled. “Pig out.”
four
The dream had become a nightmare, and now the party turned into a war council. Oberon had converted an unused storage space in the back of the club into a conference room. Terrence, Adan and I followed him in and joined the fairy king and his queen at the long, rectangular table.
“Who’s Fomoiri?” I asked when we were seated. “It’s a demon, isn’t it?”
Oberon nodded. “Not who, what. A Fomorian. It is what some of your kind call the Firstborn.”
I’d always thought demons were fallen angels, but Mr. Clean claimed they were actually Preadamites—the first race given souls and granted dominion over the earth. According to the jinn, they lacked empathy, conscience, the knowledge of good and evil, and so they had become corrupted and were cast out of the mortal world.
It seemed they were back.
“They are an ancient race,” the king said. “An ancient enemy.”
“Francis Mobley brought it here,” I said. “A summoning of some kind.”
Oberon looked at me and his face went hard. “No, Domino. You brought it here. Your actions on behalf of this man,” he said, gesturing at Terrence, “brought this thing into my house. Your efforts in defense of my queen do not absolve you of that crime.”
“Ain’t got nothing to do with Domino,” Terrence said. “Mobley sent that thing after me.” Terrence’s Egyptian costume was gone, and he reached a hand inside his jacket. He pulled out a fancy parchment envelope and threw it on the table. “I guess I didn’t invite myself here tonight.”
Oberon stared at the invitation and then at Terrence. The muscles under the skin of his face shifted and rippled, like something hidden was trying to get out. “Nevertheless,” the king said, “it was not prudent for Domino to throw in with you, Mr. Cole. Even the acting boss of her own outfit opposed her decision.”
“I’m not Domino’s boss, Sire,” said Adan. “And I supported her decision. I still do. Terrence is our ally, just as you are. Mobley is our enemy. It isn’t complicated.” I looked at him and tried to keep the surprise from my face. He didn’t return the look and his expression remained impassive. He was a good liar.
Oberon’s cold stare locked on Adan for a few moments, and then his face relaxed. “Very well,” he said, and looked at me. “It appears I misjudged the situation. Domino, I beg forgiveness for my ill-considered accusations. It has been a difficult night.”
“Unnecessary but accepted, King. Adan has it right— Mobley is the bad guy. There’s no profit in turning against each other. I figure that’s why he sent the demon here and not to Terrence’s bedroom some night.”
Oberon inclined his head, deeply enough that it was almost a bow. “The question is, then, what do we do about it?”
“The bad news is the conflict between Terrence and Mobley has escalated,” I said. “The good news is, the political niceties just got flushed and the gloves are off. Mobley is an easy problem to solve.”
“You sure, D?” Terrence asked. “Motherfucker summoned a demon. I don’t know where he got the juice. Don’t know where he got the chops. It ain’t nothing I could do.”
“And if he summoned one,” Adan said, “we have to assume he can do it again.”
“Okay,” I said, “let’s work that angle. How the fuck did he do it?”
“There are rituals, of course,” said Oberon. “But I hadn’t thought there was yet enough magic in the world to sustain the Fomoire—nor for a man like Mobley to call one.”
“I got a taste of the juice. I can try to reconstruct the ritual.” That still wouldn’t explain where Mobley got the craft or the juice to pull it off, but it was a start.
“That sounds real good, D,” said Terrence, “but Mobley ain’t even our only problem. Zombie motherfuckers is getting out of control.”
Oberon shrugged. “Our concern is the Fomoire, not the zombies.”
“How do you figure?” I asked. “Looks to me like the zombies are everybody’s problem.”
“You may have noticed,” the king said, “that my people are immune to this plague.”
“I have a theory about that,” Adan said. “The zombies are created when souls are unable to leave the body after death.”
“So why are the sidhe immune?” I asked.
“We don’t have souls,” Titania said.
Awkward. I felt like I’d just told an off-color joke in mixed company.
Oberon chuckled. “There’s no reason for discomfort, Domino. It’s not a matter of lack or misfortune. We are creatures of spirit wrapped in a thin veil of flesh. You are flesh that imprisons a small measure of spirit. Neither better nor worse, only different.”
“Okay, so the Seelie Court won’t go zombie,” I said. “That’s good. But it’s still bad news for you if the rest of the city does.”
Oberon didn’t say anything and the expression on his face made it clear he didn’t entirely agree. Was it possible he viewed a Los Angeles without humans—living ones, anyway—as an opportunity?
“She’s right, husband,” Titania said. “We need them.” The “for now” at the end of the sentence was no less obvious for being unspoken.
“Yeah,” I said, “you need us. Oh, and let’s not forget the moral tragedy of the whole fucking human race being wiped out by fucking zombies. Maybe we should consider that, too.”
Oberon and Titania looked at each other and then back to me. They smiled in unison. “Of course,” they said.
“We are your friends, Domino,” the king said. “We wish you no harm. But our first obligation is to our own people. We would expect no less of you.”
“I’m overwhelmed, King. Thing is, I need your help with the zombies. Someone has to contain this thing and your people are obviously better suited to it than mine. I send my soldiers out to herd zombies, some of them are going to end up swelling their ranks. I don’t like the math. Eventually, I’m out of
