“That’s why I have it. So I don’t have to drag our boss into Fort Knox every time a pixie farts.”
“Holster your dicks, boys,” says Lucifer. “Everything went smoothly. Everyone did their jobs, and no one had to get shot. Unless you need to wing someone to feel useful.”
He looks at me. I look at Ritchie.
“I wonder how your room would hold up if a few Drifters came knocking. Is it soundproof?”
Ritchie’s eyes widen.
“Zombies? Not the ones at the party. You’ve seen zombies in the streets?”
“Less than a block off Hollywood Boulevard. It was just some shamblers, so don’t pop a cork. Mr. Macheath is hiring me to do a search-and-destroy on the whole glee club, right?”
“We’ll see.”
Ritchie is staring at the monitors. Things are pretty much back to normal outside. The old ladies are laying down a new layer of oil and animal punch where the Lurker smudged their circle. The sweaty guys are back unloading the trucks and the office types who were standing around before snap right back to standing around. Ritchie shakes his head. I didn’t think the news would hit him so hard, but he’s not like my friends and used to this kind of shit.
“We haven’t had any walking dead since I was a kid. Not wandering the streets. It only lasted a few days. They were supposed to have crawled out of an old Pasadena gold mine after a quake.”
“What does ‘not wandering the streets’ mean?”
He shrugs.
“They pop up every now and then, like any dark magic. But they’re always contained, not strolling to Whisky A Go-Go.”
“When was the last time someone used Drifters to settle an argument?”
“The last I heard about was when Regina Maab and Cabal Ash were going at each other. I don’t know about what. It sounded like it was old-world stuff. That’s maybe why it escalated so far. You know how those Europeans get. Some Cossacks stole Grandma’s beets five hundred years ago and they’re still bitching about it.”
“Where’s Regina Maab now?”
Ritchie shrugs.
“Gone. No one’s seen her in years. Whatever the argument was about, I think Cabal won.”
“Ash is into Black Sun hoodoo. You think he’s hooked up with Drifters?”
“Not directly, but chaos magic attracts a lot of freaks. He wouldn’t be above hiring an alcoholic Deadhead who can’t pay his rent. God knows there are enough of them around.”
Lucifer is examining the drugs in Ritchie’s cabinet, pretending he’s not listening to us.
“You ready to hire me to get on this?”
He doesn’t say anything for a minute.
“I’m more interested in who shot at us when we were leaving the Geistwalds’ party. Find me something on that.”
“You’re the ones with cop connections. They do hit men. I do monsters.”
“Who says they’re not connected?”
“Hire me and we’ll find out.”
He slips a bottle of pills into his pocket and puts the rest back.
“Go talk to Cabal and then call me. I’ll decide then.”
“Fine. You want to hang here or do you want me to ride back to the hotel with you?”