or drinking at the bar. The fairy queen, Titania, was there, and she didn’t look old enough to be in the club.
“Domino, welcome,” Oberon said. “Tequila? I’ll join you.”
“Too early for me, King. How about some of that apple cider you make?”
Oberon reached below the bar and brought out a carafe of the amber liquid. The cider wasn’t too sweet, a little spicy, and I was pretty sure it had some narcotic qualities. I didn’t care—it was one of the best things I’d ever tasted and it reminded me of better times.
“With ice,” I said as he filled a glass.
“You’re a barbarian, Domino,” the king said, but he dropped a few cubes in my glass. He pushed it across the bar to me as I sat down. “What brings you in?”
“The Unseelie Court.”
Oberon frowned. “What about it?”
“I maybe got a problem with zombies. Adan thought the Unseelie fey might be involved. He said they were more closely aligned with the realms of the dead, and all that.”
“Queen Mab has, at times, made the mortal dead a part of her court. Mostly to torment them, from what I’ve seen.”
“Queen Mab? Is she your sister or something?”
“They were lovers,” said Titania.
Oberon glanced over at her. He looked worried. “That was a long time ago, my dear. We’ve been enemies far longer than we were lovers.”
“She doesn’t do zombies, though,” Titania continued. “Very few mortals can cross physically into Avalon, so you’re not likely to find any animated corpses there.”
“Many of the Unseelie sidhe can raise the dead, though,” Oberon said. “When they cross into Arcadia.”
“She hasn’t crossed, husband. None of them have. I’d know.”
“She will.”
“But not yet. And Domino doesn’t care about that. She’s asking about zombies.”
“Yeah,” I said. “One thing at a time.” Arcadia was the sidhe name for the mortal world. The idea that a grouchier sidhe nation would eventually cross over—that was a problem for another day.
“Tell me about your zombies,” Oberon said. I gave him the whole story, and I have to say, neither he nor his queen seemed all that interested.
Oberon kept polishing his glasses. “I know of the kephn. Human souls are its food of choice, but it’s been known to hunt the fey and other spirits in lean times. It feeds on juice and so it can be quite dangerous to the lesser fey. Graveyards, as you might guess, are its primary hunting ground.”
“Well, I don’t think it’s my problem. It’s dead, and any way, it seemed to have a hankering for ghosts, not zombies.”
“Yes, the kephn is incapable of manifesting in the mortal world. It would have no use for zombies so I doubt it was responsible for their creation.”
“So what’s creating them?”
“What makes you think there will be others? Perhaps it was just something that happened to those two and you’ll never know what caused it.”
“Yeah, I’m not going to waste time hoping there won’t be more. I’m not that lucky.”
“Maybe it’s a plague—a viral outbreak or something.”
“Everyone watches way too many movies.”
Oberon shrugged. “This is Hollywood.”
“So you’ve got nothing for me?”
“I’m no expert on zombies, Domino.”
I sighed. “All right, thanks anyway. How’s everything else going? You settling in okay?”
Oberon grinned. “It’s perfect. Hollywood may not be much to look at, but there’s so much juice here. We’re all quite content, I assure you.”
“That’s good.”
“Are you coming to the Bacchanal Ball?”
“What’s that?”
“I’m throwing a party. Here at the club. You should have received an invitation.”
“Sometimes I forget to check my mail. When is it?”
“Tomorrow night. You must attend, Domino. It will be a celebration quite unlike anything you’ve ever experienced.”
“What are we celebrating?”
“Him,” said Titania. “What else?”
Oberon frowned at her. “Our return to Arcadia. The ceremony with which you celebrated our arrival was simple and elegant, but a little understated. That’s not really how we roll.”
“Yeah, okay, I’ll be here. Thanks for the invite. Is it formal?”
“It’s a masquerade, of course.”
“So I need a costume?”
Oberon laughed. “You stole my shapeshifter’s glam our, Domino. I’m certain you’ll come up with something wonderful.”
“All right, but I’m bringing Honey.”
Oberon shrugged. “That’s fine. I don’t hold grudges.” That was a lie—he held them better than just about anyone. “There’s one more thing, Domino, a somewhat more serious matter.”
“What’s that?”
“It’s Terrence Cole’s outfit. We’re concerned. We feel as though we’ve left the back door open while our family sleeps.”
“I’m handling it, King.”
“I’ve no doubt you’ll do what you can, within the limitations of the political situation. I understand you’ve given him Simeon Wale’s crew.”
That didn’t take long, but then Oberon’s spies were better than most. “Wale crossed on his own. Wasn’t my idea. I can live without the bastard, though—if it helps Terrence, that’s just a happy coincidence.”
Oberon nodded and smiled. “I don’t know this man Wale as well as you do, of course, but I’m concerned that it won’t be enough. I’m concerned that I was…too diplomatic…when I agreed to surrender Cole’s territory.”
I let the feeling drain from my face and looked at him. “Your diplomacy meant we didn’t have to kill each other. That’s still what it means.”
Oberon held up his hands in mock surrender. “Easy, Domino. I’m not proposing a breach of our treaty. I’m merely pointing out that I could hold Cole’s ground better than he can,
