Skeleton Crew (28 page)

I raced to the back of the building to where a second story extended above the lower roofline. I spun my jump spell and leaped up, and immediately spotted another air-conditioning unit identical to the first. “All movements go too far!” I shouted, and wrenched the machinery from its moorings. I lifted it high and sent it tumbling through the air until it was poised over the demon, and then I hammered it down on the thing's head. There was a tremendous crash and black fluid squirted from beneath the crumpled metal.

The demon's loathsome body wriggled and twitched, and I was all out of air conditioners. I jumped down to the lower roof and ran to the edge of the building. I spun the telekinesis spell again and picked up a VW Beetle parallel parked in front of the post. I lifted it into the air, flipped it around so the car roof was facing down, and then slammed it onto the demon's writhing body. Then I lifted the car and did it again and again, until the VW was little more than a crumpled ball of metal and the demon had been reduced to black paste on the rooftop.

I ran over to Oberon and knelt beside him. Acid burns marred his beautiful, porcelain skin and one eye was a puckered ruin of angry, red flesh. “Oh, Jesus,” I whispered.

“King, I can't heal this. I can give you some juice to numb the pain.”

“Help me up,” he rasped. “I am not dead, and thus I am not beaten.” He extended his hand and I took it, pulling him to his feet. He touched his face gingerly. “How does it look?”

“How does it feel?”

“Like someone dunked my head in Hell's toilet, and flushed.”

“Looks about like it feels, then. Don't worry, you're still prettier than any man needs to be.” It was a lie—even the fairy king couldn't make acid burns look good.

“Let's finish this, Domino,” Oberon said.

I nodded. We turned and walked together to the edge of the building and looked out across the field. The better part of the battle was already finished. Mr. Clean had held the charm on my giant friend long enough for him to be attacked and slain by lesser demons, but he'd taken a lot of them with him. The bodies of fallen sidhe were scattered across our end of the battlefield, but the survivors had pressed forward with Adan, Terrence, Ismail Akeem and Amy Chen, and they'd joined forces with the piskies to slaughter the remaining demons.

Oberon and I jumped down and crossed the street, and then walked together side by side toward the fading battle. “It's hard to imagine,” I said as I surveyed the carnage.

“Let me guess,” said Oberon. “This was just, what—perhaps fifty of the Fomoire? You're trying to imagine what the next battle will look like, and the one after that.”

“Yeah, I guess so,” I said. “And I'm trying to imagine how we'll stop them.”

“We will find new allies to fight beside us, Domino, and new weapons to wield against our enemies. In the end, we will fight and we will win, or we shall perish from this earth and all the worlds beyond. It has always been thus. Do not try to fight a battle before your enemy has taken the field.”

We joined our friends and fought with them until long after the sun had fallen into the sea. When it was over, twenty-five sidhe were dead and more piskies than I could
count. All of my people were wounded, but miraculously, all of them were alive. Ismail Akeem had lost his left arm in the battle, but he'd replaced it with the ghostly apparition of a healthy arm. He said the new arm would be good for wrestling with spirits before he ate them.

Adan's right leg had been shattered when a giant fell on him. Honey had used her healing glamour on him and he was able to walk. He insisted on staying with me, so I loaned him Papa Danwe's walking stick.

“What's next, Domino?” said Oberon.

“Round up your sidhe and sweep the area,” I said. “Make sure there are no more demons skulking about, and if there are, take care of them. Amy, Akeem—go with Oberon and lend whatever assistance you can.”

“What of the rest of you?” the king asked.

I looked over to where Jack hovered beside Honey. He nodded once. “We're going for Francis Mobley,” I said. Adan, Terrence, the piskies and I left the park and walked south to Compton Boulevard. There was one more demon to face before we could rest.

We found Mobley in the Salvation Army building's soup kitchen. It was pretty sorry as inner sanctums went, and overall just a less than dramatic spot to make your last stand. We'd run into some of the Jamaican's gangsters in front of the building and a few more guarding the doors of the soup kitchen. None of them had put up much of a fight.

Francis Mobley's dreads flowed from beneath a red, green, gold and black Rasta hat down his back and past his hips. A full, bushy beard concealed most of his face, and he wore a white silk suit with no shirt. He stood in the center of a pentacle that had been drawn on the tile floor with chalk, and black candles burned at the five points of the star. His body was rigid and shaking, as if he were in the grips of a seizure, and his eyes were rolled back in his head. His lips moved as he silently mouthed the words of an incantation.

As we approached, his eyes began to burn. White froth formed on his lips and soaked into his beard. One eye popped and was followed closely by the other, and flames licked out of the sockets. Mobley's body relaxed. One hand reached up and wiped the white foam from his lips.

Valafar grinned at us. “I wasn't sure he would do it,” he
said. “I've been whispering in his ear, always whispering, warning him that he would not survive this meeting unless he opened himself to me. Oh, the others, sure, he agreed to let them use this wretched body long enough to crawl forth into this world, but me? I think some part of him always knew if I ever got inside and sank my teeth into his soul, I wouldn't leave until there was nothing left of it to sustain me.”

“We knew you'd come,” I said. “No way you'd give up your gate without a fight.”

“Is that what this is, then? A fight? You would test your selves in battle against a Lord of Hell?” He turned up his hands and flames erupted from the palms.

“I heard you were more of a low-ranking general,” I said.

“But no, since you asked, we don't think it's going to be much of a fight.”

“No doubt you're right about that,” the demon said, looking around, “unless you've brought your little army with you. In that case, we might have a bit of sport.”

“The truth is, we're a lot alike,” I said. “Your people and mine, I mean.”

Valafar laughed. “You are no more than a pathetic parody of my race. You were given all the tools, sure, but that little seed of weakness was planted deep in your souls. Empathy, I think you call it, or conscience. Humanity,” he said, spitting the word like a curse. The forked tongue darted out and licked his lips. “Whatever you call it, I can tell you this much—it tastes delightful.”

“Yeah, just like us,” I continued. “Someone I know referred to us as a small measure of spirit imprisoned in flesh.

That was made really clear when the Xolos were taken and human souls were unable to escape their corpses. People
like us, we need help dying. We can't escape the prison on our own.”

“Fascinating,” Valafar said. “Would you care to die now?”

“You know the most horrible thing about the zombies? You'd think it would have been the cannibalism, but it wasn't. The worst thing was they were just people. A lot of them didn't even know they were dead.”

“Yes, well, humans are imbeciles.”

“It's not that easy to tell, though, is it? The flesh is still animated and the soul endures. It's an easy mistake to make.”

“For a human, I suppose.”

“Or the Firstborn,” I said. “We really are so much alike. That's why I was so sure you'd crawl up inside Francis Mobley without ever realizing he was already dead.”

The fire in the demon's eyes dimmed and the flames dancing on his upturned hands winked out. He looked down at Mobley's body. “What…” he stammered. “How?”

Jack raised his hand and smiled.

I laughed. “The big fight at Wilson Park? That was just to get your attention and draw your demons away from Mobley. Just long enough for one of the King's Knives to slip in here and do his work. It was quick and painless— Mobley didn't even notice. I figured you'd be trapped, just like a human soul. I noticed you bailed pretty quick when I shot that preacher you possessed.”

“Clever, but so what?” Valafar spat. “Even trapped within this rotting meat, I will destroy you.”

“You probably could,” I said, “but we're not going to have a fight.” I brought my fingers to my lips and whistled, and my Xolo padded into the room. He sat on his haunches beside me and looked up, his tongue lolling from the side of
his mouth. In the mortal world, he had a family and a good home. He wore a collar and a dog tag. His name was Noe.

Valafar laughed. “That pathetic cur is no threat to me.”

I reached down and scratched Noe's ears, and then I looked up at the demon. “He's not here for you, Valafar,” I said. “He's here for Mobley.” The Xolo barked once and leaped to his feet, and then he faded from view as he crossed over to the Between.

“No,” the demon said. His eyes flared and he backed away toward the far side of the circle. “It's not…you can't…”

“You said yourself, you're just a parasite. I'm guessing you won't last very long in there without a human soul to chew on.”

The demon threw back his head and howled, and then the burning orbs flickered out. Mobley's human eyes stared sightlessly at us for a moment before he toppled over and fell facedown on the tile.

Honey flew to Jack and tackle-hugged him in midair. She tangled her fingers in his hair and kissed him long and hard. “My hero,” she whispered when she finally came up for air.

“Save it for the honeymoon,” I said. “We haven't even had the wedding yet.”

 

On Honey's insistence and with Stag's grudging authorization, we held the ceremony at the Ashram. I argued we could find a good spot in L.A., and failing that we could always go to Vegas, but Honey wouldn't hear of it. She said the Ashram was a sacred place; I wasn't sure if that was because Hecate was there, whatever she was, or because Honey had a thing for New Age eastern mysticism. I guessed it was probably Hecate.

The location proved to be a logistical nightmare. The
convergence of two major ley lines meant there was more than enough juice for the Seelie Court, but there were enough dry spots in San Bernardino County they couldn't just take the freeway. We had to build gates for them in the compound, and they had to make the trip through the Between.

Just about everyone I knew was at the wedding. The outfit represented, with Terrence, Chavez, Adan, Ismail Akeem and Amy Chen all attending. Shanar Rashan even returned from sabbatical in time to make the event, though I wasn't sure how he'd heard about it. Oberon, Titania and representatives of the sidhe nobility attended. The king's face was healed but he was wearing an eye patch. If anything, it made him look more charming and roguish than ever. Lowell and Granato were there. They were too busy worrying about what a fairy wedding celebration might do to government property to really have a good time. My mother attended, radiant in her simple yellow dress and white hat. Other than me, she was Honey's closest friend in the mortal world and she wouldn't have missed the wedding even if the zombie apocalypse had still been in full swing. Detective Meadows even showed up for the affair. She'd seen enough of the dark side of the underworld, and she deserved to see the wondrous and beautiful side for a change.

The wedding was strange in some ways and familiar in others. We all gathered in a large circle with the bride and groom at the center. Titania presided over the ceremony; she spoke in the language of the sidhe, so I didn't know what words were said. I understood it, just the same. When it was over, Titania bound the piskies' clasped hands together with a white and gold ribbon, and Jack and Honey kissed for the first time as husband and wife. Honey was so happy and Jack looked so proud, it made my heart swell, and I had
to flow a little juice to keep the tears out of my eyes. That's me—a hard case to the bitter end.

After the ceremony, there was food and drink and dancing. I danced with Adan for what seemed like hours, and we clung to each other without speaking. Later, I took a glass of champagne and walked alone through the grounds. I found Honey sitting on the branch of a tree with her back pressed against the trunk. She was crying.

I dropped the glass and rushed over to her. “Honey, what's wrong? Did you and Jack have a fight?”

The piskie laughed and wiped at her eyes. She shook her head and smiled. “No, everything is wonderful. I'm just sad because Jack will leave tomorrow.”

“What do you mean he'll leave? You just got married.”

“We'll make love tonight, Domino, and we'll make a baby. And Jack will leave when the sun rises.”

“He's going to knock you up and then split?” It really
was
like the barrio.

“Well, yeah,” Honey said, frowning at me. “After he gives me a baby, what else is he supposed to do?”

“He's supposed to stick around and be a husband and father!”

“That's what human women want. I'm a piskie,” she said, as if I might have forgotten.

“You don't want your husband to stay with you?”

“I do, more than anything, but that's why he has to go.”

“You're not making any sense, Honey.”

“What I feel right now, today, that's what I want to hold on to. And I couldn't very well do that with Jack around all the time.”

“Why not? You just have to keep love alive, keep the home fires burning, all that shit.”

Honey laughed and shook her head. “Men are better in
the wild, Domino. You can tame them if you work at it hard enough, but it takes away everything that made them interesting in the first place. Then you're stuck with a best friend and roommate who won't clean house and hates to go shopping. What's the point?”

“He could help you raise your child.”

“What the hell does a man know about raising a child? And why would a mother want to let him try? My family will help me raise the baby, Domino. If it's a boy, Jack will return for him when he's old enough. The boy will go a-wandering with his father and learn to become a man. If the child is a girl, Jack will visit and spoil her with gifts and affection, but he won't stay long enough to do any permanent damage. That's the way it's supposed to be.”

“So you only get one night with your husband, and then he leaves.”

Honey smiled a wicked smile. “Yeah, for now, but Jack and I both know what the morrow brings. And oh, gods, Domino, what a night it will be! It'll be enough to keep my home fires burning until the next time Jack comes home.”

 

Adan rode back to the city with me after the wedding festivities wound down. I drove straight to my condo and parked the Lincoln. He followed me up without asking why I wasn't taking him home. When we got inside the house, I threw my jacket on the couch, grabbed his hand and pulled him into my bedroom.

“Mrs. Dawson is in there,” he said.

“She can watch or she can leave.”

“But Domino, tomorrow…”

“Shut up, Adan,” I said. “I don't care about tomorrow.” I turned him around, pushed him down on the bed and pounced before his protests could escalate. Maybe it was
a week of fighting zombies and demons, or maybe it was the fairy wedding. Maybe I'd been working up to it for a while. Whatever it was, I didn't care. I wanted it. I needed it. Sometimes it really is as simple as that.

L.A. had survived the zombie apocalypse, but Adan and I made love like it was the end of the world.

 

Later that night, I awoke to find my bed empty. I got dressed and drove out to Venice Beach, and I found Anton on the boardwalk. He sat on the grass under a palm tree, wearing sunglasses with a cap pulled down low on his face.

He leaned against the tree and stared across the sand at the moonlit surf rolling in. I sat down beside him and we watched the sea for a while.

“When I came to this country, this was first place for me,” he said finally. His voice was so dry and harsh it was hard to understand the words. “I got the taxi at LAX and I told him to bring me here. He dropped me off and I paid him and then I stood in this spot with my suitcase and looked at ocean. It was old, pink suitcase from Soviet times. Babushka gave it to me when I left. I could afford to buy the new one, but I took it so I would remember her. I bet I looked funny standing here with pink suitcase.”

“There are stranger sights in Venice than a Russian gangster with a pink suitcase.”

Anton tried to laugh and it sounded like a smoker's hacking cough. “I remember I'm thinking, this is the place where any man can be a chief. Any man can be a boss.”

“I'm sorry, Anton. I guess it never worked out that way.”

He looked at me and smiled, the leathery lips stretching away from yellow teeth. “You make joke with me, Domino,”
he said. “It was everything I dream about that day. I had good life here. Babushka would be proud of me.”

“I'm sure she is,” I said, my throat tightening on the words. “Maybe it's time to go see her, now.”

“Da,” he said, nodding. “Now it is time.” He struggled to his feet and turned to face me. He took off the sunglasses and dropped them in the grass, and he looked at me with those dead, gray eyes. “Will it hurt, Domino?”

“No, Anton,” I said, and my voice broke. “It won't hurt at all.”

Noe stepped up beside me and sniffed at the leg of Anton's track suit. The dog turned its head up to look at me, and whined.

“Goodbye, my friend,” I said, and I nodded to the Xolo. Then I turned and walked away. I'd have some guys claim his body from the morgue. I owed Anton a nice funeral, with pretty flowers and a good coffin with small pillows inside.

 

The next morning, I awoke to a deep rumble from the street that rattled the windows. I went to the French doors and drew the sheer curtains aside. Adan was parking a canary yellow Harley-Davidson Panhead at the curb on the other side of the street. The saddlebags bulged and there was a large pack tethered behind the seat. Jack stood on the oversize chrome headlight casing looking up in my direction. His eyes found mine and he touched his hand to his heart. I flipped him off and dropped the curtain over the window. I went back and sat down on the sofa and waited.