Mob Rules (23 page)

Adan's form was again as I had known him. He threw out his arms and his chant rose until it thundered in my ears. He smiled. I felt the life and heat leached from my body as the
dark magic inundated me. My sight blurred and narrowed, and I thought I would sink into that cold river forever.

“You really are an asshole, Adan.”

I opened myself wholly to the flood of magic, and I fed it with hurt, and betrayal, and loneliness and rage. I spiked it with everything in me that was still human. My body warmed and my vision sharpened. The swarm pressed against Adan's halo of moonlight, and the light dimmed. Then it darkened. Then it was gone.

The swarm moved to Adan and settled around his head. Then it began moving down the length of his body. He fought and screamed as the swarm devoured his flesh. His struggling didn't move me, and my dampening spell swallowed the sound of his death. Whatever he had been, in the end Adan died just like anything else.

When its work was done, the black cloud floated back to the jar and disappeared inside. I replaced the lid and the hellish droning subsided. I collapsed onto the floor and gasped for air as the juice burned through me. Finally, I raised my head and looked at what I had done.

What was left of the thing that had been Adan looked more like petrified wood than human remains. I struggled to my feet and walked slowly over to the body. Adan didn't smell like apples and cinnamon anymore. That wonderful smell hadn't been real, anyway. It had just been the changeling's glamour. Just another lie.

“I'm sorry, Domino,” Honey said.

“I told you, we're good. Don't worry about it.”

“That's not what I mean.”

“I know.” I stood there and looked at her. I didn't say anything else and I didn't turn away. Finally, Honey flew to
me, perched on my shoulder and wrapped her arms around my neck.

“I can't cry,” I whispered.

“I'll do it for you,” she said, and I felt her tears on my skin.

After a few moments, Honey disengaged, wiped her face and hovered in the air beside me. “What will you do with it, Domino?”

I didn't have the energy to haul the corpse into the desert and bury it, and I didn't really want to make Anton do it, either. This was my mess. I lifted the body and was astonished at how light it was, despite my exhaustion, as if the remains were little more than a husk or shell. From what Honey had told me, I knew that fairies were really just corporeal spirits. The changeling had been more juice than mass, and now all the juice was in the soul jar.

I carried the corpse across the room and set it down in front of Honey's gate. I went back into the living room, sprawled onto the couch and crossed over into the Between.

Mrs. Dawson was standing in the middle of the room with her hands covering her mouth. She was sobbing quietly.

“It's okay, Mrs. Dawson. Everything is going to be all right. I'm sorry you had to see that. Really, I am.”

“You murdered him. Right there, in the middle of my living room. You're a monster.”

“Maybe you're right, Mrs. Dawson. But he wasn't human. He killed three of my men and he came here tonight to kill me. I did what I had to do. I'm just sorry it had to happen here.”

“It was so horrible.”

“You're really not going to like this next part. Maybe you should go into the bedroom for a while.” The ghost left the
room and closed the door behind her. I could still hear her crying.

I went to the gate, reached through, and pulled the changeling's corpse into the Between. I went to the closet and took a hammer, nails and a box cutter from the toolbox. I dragged Adan's body out into the hallway, stood it up and nailed it to the front door.

This was probably enough of a message for any fairy assholes who stopped by, but I wanted to make sure nothing else would be able to use Honey's gate. I sliced the palm of my hand with the box cutter and incandescent blue juice began to spill from the wound. I used the juice to paint warding sigils on the door frame. I couldn't actually spin the wards in the Between, but I could power them up when I crossed back to my world.

I opened and closed the door a few times to make sure the corpse would remain in place, and then went back inside. There was no sign of Mrs. Dawson. I had a feeling I wouldn't see her for a while. I let the spell unwind and crossed back into my world.

Honey was there, waiting for me to finish the cleanup. “What are we going to do with those guys in my nest?”

“I don't know, Honey. It was your idea to put them there.”

“Yeah, but I really didn't think about what to do with them, after.”

I went to the closet and replaced the tools, then drew my forty-five from the shoulder holster hanging there. I didn't say anything as I walked to the kitchen. I was thinking about what a forty-five caliber bullet would do to a body that was eight inches tall and change. I was way too tired to spin a spell, though, so the gun would have to do.

“Wait, Domino,” Honey said. She hovered in front of me, blocking my way. “I don't want you to kill them.”

“Why not? My outfit is at war, and they're enemy soldiers. You don't want them in your nest, and I can't think of anything else to do with them.”

“I'm on your side, Domino, but they're still my people. Not exactly the same, I mean, but they're still fey folk. Anyway, they're not just soldiers, they're sidhe.”

“She who?”

“Not she,
sidhe.
They're like the nobility. And I think they could be useful. The Seelie Court will want them back. You can hold them hostage.”

I had to admit, it wasn't a bad idea. The two fairies didn't seem like a lot of leverage, but they gave me more than I'd have without them. Besides, it wasn't like Honey would have to share her nest with them. Her family—all twenty-seven of them—was busy building a new one in my office. I'd moved the laptop and Mr. Clean into my bedroom.

“Okay, they can live. But they have to stay in your nest. I don't have anywhere else to put them.” I grabbed a beer from the fridge, returned the gun to the closet and retreated to the couch. Honey flew over and landed on the coffee table.

“We need to talk about what's going to happen next. We need to plan our next move.”

“It's over,” I said. “The good guys won. Papa Danwe is going to have a big fucking problem, but that's just a loose end. The changeling is dead and Rashan is safe. Your king's invasion has no chance with Rashan still in play. He knew that—that's why he had to take him out.” I shook my head. “He had to have been planning this for more than twenty years. He planted the changeling on Rashan and then waited all this time to make his move.”

“King Oberon is immortal, Domino. He takes a very, very long view of things. It's been more than five hundred years since fairies were able to dwell in Arcadia. What's another twenty?”

“Okay, but that brings up another question. Why here? I get why the Seelie Court wants back in. I get that they've been thinking about it for a long time. But why L.A.? Why Rashan's territory? Shouldn't they have their hearts set on Ireland or something?”

“We're drawn to the magic, Domino. The magic of that place was strong once, but now it's stronger here. And your boss controls more juice in L.A. than anyone else.”

“It just seems like it would have been easier and safer for this Oberon to start small and work his way up. Why come straight for Rashan?”

“King Oberon can't start small. The Seelie Court needs a lot of juice just to survive in this world. The magic is like oxygen for us.”

I nodded. I'd known that, and it was one of many little hints and clues that eventually came together in my subconscious and led me to the truth. The talk with Rashan had just confirmed my suspicions. Honey had filled in the details.

“Well, that's just it. The fey can't start with just a little magic, any more than you could make do with a little oxygen. They can only survive in a place that's filled with it. You said it yourself—your enemy had to be something that needed a lot more magic than a spirit would.”

“Well, anyway, it's over now,” I said. “Your King Oberon failed. His changeling is dead. Rashan is alive. I guess he'll just have to wait a little longer and try somewhere else.”

“He won't stop, Domino. Killing Rashan would have made it a lot easier, but he's still coming. It takes a while for his plans
to unfold, but once they do, he sees it through to the end. To tell you the truth, despite all his lore and wisdom, he's a lot like a little boy with a one-track mind.”

“Then Rashan will crush him. Not only that, we'll rally all the outfits to our flag. Maybe not Papa Danwe—he probably can't come back to Jesus now, even if he wanted to. But all the others. We'll be unified. There will be no power vacuum for Oberon to move into. He's screwed.”

“Don't underestimate him, Domino. Don't underestimate any of the fey. You've seen what I can do, and I'm among the least of my kind.”

“I doubt that, Honey. Warrior-princess, remember? Anyway, I'm not underestimating anyone. I know it won't be easy. War never is. But it's a war we can win.”

“So what will you do?”

“Right now, I've got to report in and get my marching orders.”

I got on my cell and went into my bedroom, closing the door behind me. I trusted Honey, but I still didn't feel comfortable talking business in front of someone who wasn't part of the outfit.

Rashan had been prepared for what had to happen by the time I left his house, and he listened to my report without emotion. That's pretty much the way he did everything.

“Honey is convinced King Oberon is still coming,” I said when I'd finished.

“She's right. We might be able to defeat him, but he won't stop without a fight. It's not his way.”

“We
might
be able to defeat him? Don't be so modest, boss. We just need to get you down to Crenshaw and you can open up a can of Sumerian whoop-ass on him.”

Silence.

“Boss? You there? You can take this guy, right?”

“I'm here, Dominica. But I'm afraid I cannot participate in the coming battle.”

“You got something more important to do?” Maybe Rashan had agreed not to use his magic against Oberon.

Rashan sighed. “You're aware of the effect juice has on sorcerers.”

“Yeah, I guess. It gives you a buzz, maybe it's a little addictive.”

“It's very addictive, and I've been using it for more than six thousand years. The addiction itself isn't the problem—it's the effect repeated use of magic has on the human mind.”

“What effect is that?”

“It drives us mad. Sooner or later, it breaks whatever part of us is left that is still human. Surely you've seen hints of this in your own practice of the art.”

Again, I recalled how I'd wigged out after trashing Terrence's gangbangers at the junkyard. I'd felt like a monster then, and I was feeling it now. I'd been at the edge of collapse after squeezing the changeling, but now I felt like I could do it all over again. Worse, I felt like I might want to.

“I guess I never thought about it much. You never really mentioned it would get worse.”

“Now you know. It's no coincidence that there are so many legends of mad wizards in human folklore. In the mythology of every culture on Earth, secret and forbidden knowledge always has a price for the mortals who seek it. Dominica, I haven't cast more than one spell at a time in fifty years. I haven't used magic seriously, for an extended period of time, since the sixteenth century. If I start using it now, I will become as great a danger to this world as King Oberon.”

“Well, ain't that a bitch.” It was like finding out your role
model, someone you idolized, was kind of a loser. I hadn't been this disappointed in someone since Michael Jordan tried to hit a curve ball.

“I didn't intend for you to find out like this. Things are moving faster than I anticipated. I'd hoped for more time to prepare you.” He sighed again, and for the first time he sounded old and tired. “There is never enough time. One thing you learn after six thousand years—there's never enough time.”

“What are you saying, boss?”

“You're ready, Dominica. You've proven that. You uncovered this plot. You revealed and defeated King Oberon's agent. You did that. I didn't lift a finger. I've been searching for someone who could lead us through the approaching storm for more than half a century. I finally found that person, in you.”

“Just like that? I'm the new boss?”

“Don't be presumptuous. I'm not dead. As long as I'm alive, I remain the boss of this outfit. Your boss. And should you grow weary of that arrangement and begin to think ambitious thoughts, remember that I've survived for six millennia. I enjoy being alive. If forced to choose, you'll find I choose madness over death.”

“Jesus, boss, I wasn't planning to rub you out. It's just…I'm not sure what to say. I'm not even sure I want this.”

Rashan laughed. “Bullshit, Dominica. You want it bad. Even when I made you my lieutenant, you felt sorry for yourself. You always felt like you were just a serving girl, always running around doing things I could just as easily do for myself. Well, now you know the truth. I need you, Dominica. I always have.”

“So what is my role, exactly?”

“You're my wartime captain. In the old days, I would have called you my champion. As far as the coming war is concerned, you're in charge. You make all the decisions, you give the orders and your word is final. I'm available to advise you, at your discretion.”

“My discretion?”

Rashan sighed again, but this time he sounded more impatient than old. “Yes, your discretion. As I said, your word is final. Even if I'm the one disagreeing with you.”

“What if I want to change the name of the Men's Room?”