"That gamble paid off," Transomnia said. "But Mirabilus would have dismissed the rent-a-thugs from the ceremonial chamber anyway-it's better to have no witnesses to the deed, since even Wulf and I couldn't always tie up every loose end. It was always going to be just you, me, and Mirabilus-but the history of our little tussles made it appropriate to express hostility in his presence." He smiled grimly. "For that… I thank you, Dakota."
"Why did you let him tattoo you in the first place? Did you think he could protect you from Saffron?" I asked-and then I stopped, working out the timing in my head. "No… not even vampires heal that fast. That had to be an old tattoo-"
"So old," Transomnia said, "I barely remember why the deal made sense at the time."
"You're his advance man," I said. "You roll into town, sniff out the lay of the land-"
"And then help him take out his rivals," Transomnia said. His eyes were burning on me, not hate exactly, but… rage? "But this time, it was supposed to be different. This time, I was going to find someone to protect me, a vampire whose aura was strong enough to bind myself to, someone whose power could shield me from Mirabilus' control. I found Calaphase of the Oakdale Clan-and then you went and fucked it up. They kicked me out because of you-"
"-and drove you right back into his arms," I said. "I'm sorry. I didn't know-"
"You couldn't have," Transomnia said, still glaring at me. "How could you know all this would happen, just from one little punch? But remember: you picked that fight. I was doing my duty, trying to scare you off-but I never touchedyou that first night.."
My eyes widened. His stayed on me, burning with anger and expectation. Surely the vampire who nearly took two of my fingers wasn't waiting for… an apology?
"I'm sorry," I said at last. "Sorry… that I hit you."
"Finally," Transomnia said, leaning back. "And I'm sorry that led to all this-but it is over, and as far as I am concerned, we are evenand done. I'm not going to come after you, you're not going to come after me-we leave each other the hell alone."
I nodded, blinked, and when my eyes opened, he had disappeared.
I stood there, swaying, drinking it all in. Then I stepped up Valentine's corpse. It was still steaming with wisps of color and fire, but fading fast. I stood there, watching him go, my skin tingling with magic as the last streamers from his tattoos faded into darkness.
"Guess what," I said. "It turns out I can do a trick you can't do, after all."
Grimacing in pain, I used the clippers to cut Jinx and Cinnamon down and then tried to free them from the silver barbed wire. Jinx was easy, but Cinnamon was damn near hopeless-and the wires on her wrists cut so deep into the flesh I couldn't get the clippers in there without hurting her more, so I just cut the wires between them, leaving her with two bloody silver bracelets. My hands were tingling with pain, but I tried to carefully clip the wires out of her mouth; when I was done her mouth hung slack and I could barely hear her breathing.
I stared at the others. Wulf looked dead, but Jinx was still whole; Alex and Lord Buckhead were pretty trashed, but they were all breathing, if not stirring; they'd hold. I untied them, prayed to God that they'd hold, and carried Cinnamon up out of Hell. At first I was relieved when I saw that the guards I'd incapacitated were gone, but then I realized that meant they were alive and conscious. I didn't wait to find out whether they were running or plotting: I just ran straight out into the street.
Knee and hands throbbing with pain, I hobbled out across North Avenue, leaving the Masquerade behind, alternately heedless of and wincing at the gravel and glass scattered across the pavement. I headed straight for City Hall East, for the police entrance, where cop cars left after refueling in the night. One black-and-white was pulling out of the gate just as I stumbled up, and I ran straight for it. They came to a screeching halt just as I ran out of gas, gasping, depositing Cinnamon on their hood.
"Holy Mary," the driving officer said, only half stepping out of his car, holding a flashlight with one hand and with his other reaching for… his sidearm?
"Help, help, we've been attacked," I said, bending involuntarily as my knee began throbbing like mad. "I and my friends have just been attacked in the Masquerade. I need you to call for backup and ambulances-"
"What the hell you think this one's been on?" the second officer said, crawling out of the car. "And look at the state of the other one-"
I realized how I must look-bruised, naked, with a flapping black coat, carrying a bloody young girl outfitted in the most realistic tiger costume they'd ever seen. They thought we were drugged-out prostitutes, and were tuning out everything I was saying, assuming I was babbling. Fuck them.
"My name is Dakota Frost," I barked. "I'm an expert witness working with Special Agent Philip Davidson of the DEI and Detective Andre Rand of Atlanta Homicide-"
The first officer was frozen, but the second was holding up her hands and saying, "Now, far out, little lady-"
"I have just been attacked," I said. "I and my friends have been attacked. This girl is dying, and at least four other people are injured in the Masquerade. We need ambulances and backup in case Mirabilus had any other help-"
"Mirabilus?" the female officer said. "Like the Mysterious Mirabilus-"
"What the fuck is wrong with you?" I said, glaring at her.
"Settle down, now," the female officer said. "I now you've been through a lot-"
Damnit, they were thinking that whatever I'd been through was over, but for all I knew the guards were coming back with shotguns to clean up the evidence. I needed help. We needed help. For a moment I thought of lunging for the car's radio and calling for help myself, but my dad was on the force: I knew I'd never make it. Something more subtle was required.
So I did the first thing that came to mind. It's lame, I know, but it works: I swayed.
"Oh God," I said, tottering. Then I leaned heavily on the hood. "Can-can I sit down for a minute?"
"Sure thing, little lady," the female officer said. She stepped to the back passenger door and opened it, and I smiled weakly, leaning on the car with one hand as I walked around it-but as I passed the front passenger door I dove in and shot one long arm in to grab the car's mike.
"Black Mayday, Black Mayday, D-E-I assets down, Black Mayday, Black Mayday-"
"God damn you, you tricky bitch," the female officer said, hauling me out, twisting my arm round and slamming my cheek to the hood of the car. I screamed and bucked at the pain in my hand, but she twisted harder and pushed me down. "Jeez, she's strong," she said, and I winced as a cuff went on one wrist. "Help me-"
I bucked up and clocked the woman in the jaw with the back of my head, and then the other officer surged around the car and pinned me down in. "You shouldn't have done that," he said, grasping my other squirming wrist and cuffing it too. "She's my partner-"
"Go easy," I heard the female officer say. "Look at what they've been through. Between the drugs and whatever their pimp did to them she's probably out of her mind-"
And then the most beautiful sound I'd ever heard swept over us, a rising, high-pitched purring like a mechanical cat-or a muffled leafblower, sweeping out of City Hall East and swooping over us in a sudden gust of wind. A bright light pinned us all, followed by an eruption of red and blue flashing lights as a DEI Shadowhawk decloaked above us.
"This is the Department of Extraordinary Investigations!" Philip's voice roared over the PA. "Officers stand down! APD officers stand down!"
"Boy, that was quick," I muttered under my breath.
The Shadowhawk set down in the middle of North Avenue, its whirling blades whipping over our heads as Philip leapt out, brandishing his badge and shouting, "D-E-I agent! Officers stand down, stand down! DEI agent! Stand down, stand down!"