Blood Rock (61 page)

“Agreed, then,” I said. “And if we do decide that the cave is still a threat
and
that dynamiting it will help, we find out where the fuck it is before we blow it up—I have no desire to topple the IBM tower and kill fifty thousand people in Midtown.”

“I do not care how many humans have to die to protect vampires,” Scara said.

“You
do
care, because this is the twenty-first fucking century and the DEI will
find
you,” I said. “And when they do, they’ll find that I’ve found you first and pulled your fucking heart out. I did
not
save your life just so you could go on a killing spree.”

Scara’s lips parted in a vicious snarl. “You did
not
save
my
life—”

“Be silent,” Iadimus said. He looked over at the lich. “We were more stable at five—”

“Now now, not in front of our guests,” the lich said, staring at me, wrinkled dead face smiling and amused. “You make a good point, Lady Frost,” he said, voice velvety smooth, “but why, if you have destroyed the tag and the tagger, do you not think this is over?”

“Because only tags connected to the network will have been destroyed,” I said, pointing at Demophage’s body, which had spilled out of its coffin and yet still smoldered with glowing rainbow wisps. “Any other tags may still be active, and some of them have components of the spell. Worse, the tagger’s designs are self-replicating, and self-elaborating.”

“No,” the lich hissed, recoiling from the magic flowing off Demophage’s corpse. “No, we cannot have this again. We
must
destroy them—”

“
If
you can,” I said. “But each and every one of them is like a Venus’ Flytrap for vampires. You’re going to need help: knowledge of the tagger’s designs, and even photocopies of the tagger’s blackbook, are now spreading through Atlanta’s graffiti community.”

Scara snarled. “We will not permit it! We’ll track them down and destroy them.”

“What? What did I just say about killing sprees, and now you’re talking about sending vampires out against magicians who can use them as a
power source?
No,” I said … and my idea took full shape. Very firmly, I said, “
I
forbid it.”

“You …
forbid?
” the lich said incredulously.

“I forbid it,” I snapped, flapping the Dragon’s wings. “If you could have dealt with this you would have done so.
You
had to call
me
. You may rule the vamps, the Bear King the weres, and Buckhead the forest, but where the use of magic is concerned
I’m
in charge of Atlanta.”

The lich just smiled and nodded. “A bold claim,” he said. “I am prepared to accept it. But you do not know what a mess you are stepping into.”

One of Iadimus’ magicians cleared his throat. “My Lord … the Wizarding Guild will have something to say about that.”

“Then let them step up and deal with the problem,” I said, glaring at him. I’d never even
heard
of the Wizarding Guild before this. “Dozens of people died. My
friends
died. Thousands of people were put at risk by this, including any of the members of the Guild who live inside the Perimeter. If they don’t like how I’m handling it, let them come to me.”

The lich laughed, a delicious, vicious sound.

“And how
will
you handle it?” Iadimus said. “Kill all the taggers?”

“Sounds like a great idea,” I said. “We should also stake all the vamps, and put a silver bullet in all the weres. And why don’t we burn all the witches while we’re at it?”

Iadimus sighed. “A puerile analogy,” he said, “but you’ve made your point.”

“Not yet,” I said. “The police have been trying to stamp out graffiti for years, and short of putting cameras on every street corner like in London, they’ve not been able to do it, even though they weren’t fighting people who can turn into animals and disappear.”

“The police failed only because nothing was at stake when it was mere spray painting,” Scara said dismissively. “We will succeed if we have the will to do what needs to be done.”

“Aren’t you listening? Half the taggers are weres. Their werekin friends will turn on you, just because you’re vamps. You’ll start a war—and I won’t have that.”

“
You
won’t have—” Scara began, then froze when Vladimir stepped up to my side, turned around and growled at her, oh so softly. Saffron abruptly left Darkrose’s side and stepped to the other side of me, folding her arms.

“Lords and Ladies of the Gentry, let me be clear,” I said. “A lot of good people died recently—vamps, weres, your human servants, my good friends. But not all of them died at the hands of the tagger—many died as a direct result of
your
actions, Lady Scara.”

She tensed. “I will not be held to account for defending my people.”

“Nor do I intend to,” I said. “That’s over now. This was a terrible, dangerous situation in which many people acted out of fear—including you,
Lady
Scara. You murdered many good men and women at the Consulate, but I am prepared to forgive and forget—this one time.”

“What are you
doing,
Dakota?” Saffron muttered.

“This is not the Wild West,” I said. “This is not the Stone Age. This is the twenty-first fucking century, and tribal warfare stops, now. From now on, if you have a grievance, you bring it to the Consulate—open warfare between factions in the Edgeworld of Atlanta is forbidden.”

Scara snorted. “And if I do not play along?”

“If anyone breaks the truce,” I said, “then I will take them down.”

“And I’ll help,” Saffron said.

“As will I,” Vladimir said.

“As will
I,
” the lich said, smiling.

Scara and Iadimus both turned on him, stunned. Then Iadimus snarled.

“Oh, you’ve been waiting for this, haven’t you?” he said. “Damn you.”

“If you have a grievance, take it up with the Consulate,” the lich cackled. “If the Lady Frost agrees, of course. Unless … she
wants
to be judge and jury, in addition to executioner?”

“What? No, of course we should have a, a grievance procedure,” I said, thinking fast. The vampires already had courts, didn’t they? “We, ah, could begin with the Consulates—”

“No!” Scara said, her voice tinged with despair.

“Finally,” Lord Delancaster said, relaxing into his throne, looking, for the first time, as if he truly belonged there. “Play acting no longer.”

I stared at him blankly, then looked at Saffron. “What … what did I just do?”

“The Consulates,” the lich said turning back to his throne, “are
my
project, Dakota Frost. An independent power structure to which even members of the Gentry may be held accountable. But there has not been enough … independent power to enforce this idea … until now.”

“But … aren’t you the big man on campus?” I said, confused and alarmed. “Didn’t you always have the power to make him your lieutenant?”

“No!” Scara said. “No! You can’t! I forbid it—”

“You cannot forbid anything any longer,” Iadimus said. “Your allies on the Gentry are dead, Delancaster’s protégé has replaced them—and your behavior has become embarrassingly erratic.” He turned to Delancaster with an ironic smile. “I will support this plan, my Lord.”

“You-you can’t do this,” Scara snarled. “To put
him
in charge—
you can’t trust him!
”

“He remains a puppet, but it has been a century and a half, my dear,” the lich said, sitting on the throne next to Delancaster. “And his protégé is one of us now. The Lady Saffron leads the Consulates, I will support her, and together …
we will support the Lady Frost.
”

Never waste a good crisis, indeed.
“Uh … thank you for your support, Sir Leopold.”

“Don’t thank me yet,” he said, staring at me. “How
will
you deal with the taggers?”

“Well, we have Tully, trained by the tagger,” I said, thinking as quickly as I could, “and my contacts in Atlanta’s human graffiti community are already working to defuse the tagger’s tags. My team will teach other taggers these methods, and spread the word: eliminate the bad tags when you find them, and make no new tags designed to prey on the life of another.”

“And if they do—”

“Then you catch them, you give them to me, and I give them to Philip,” I said. “And let the men-in-black deal with getting enough evidence to make it stick.”

“That’s nonsense,” Scara said. “We are vampires. The taggers are werekin. Neither of us can go to the police. We can only enforce your rules through violence, which you forbid.”

“If only you had someone with recognized authority,” I said. The lich’s piranha grin was growing. “Someone to give me an appointment, and the power to make it stick.”

“But … but I can’t do that,” Saffron said. “I can’t make appointments.”

“No you can’t,” I said. “Not at the city level.”

Saffron glanced at me. Then she followed my gaze to the throne … to Lord Delancaster, Vampire Master of Georgia, in his mind, on TV—and in the eyes of the State.

“If only,” I said, “Lord Delancaster really had the power you’ve pretended to give him.”

“No! You can’t!” Scara said to the lich—like a scared little child. “You, you
promised
—”

“Lady Frost,” Iadimus said quietly, and now
I
flinched back from the sudden icy cold and the unexpected hate in his pale eyes. “You have
no idea
what you have just done.”

“But I—” I began, then stopped. He had sounded like he supported my quickly hatching plan, but now he was
angry
—-and Scara was
terrified
. I really
didn’t
have any idea.

“Things are not as simple as they seem,” Iadimus said, glaring at me. But his eyes didn’t blaze at me for long; he quickly turned to the lich, and the wave of frost intensified. “You
know
that, Sir Leopold. Do you really think you can maneuver us like little children?”

“I think I have,” the lich said.

“Wait, wait, wait,” I said. “Think about what I’m asking. This is in your best interests. I’m offering you a chance to get my help on tap. I’m trying to get us to work together.”

“But—but—” Scara began, eyes fixed on Delancaster like a fearful cat on a challenger, afraid to look away lest the newcomer pounce. But she broke the glance, shook off her fear, and glared at me, eyes glowing cold red. “But what if we do not want to work with you?”

I stared at her, eyes tightening into slits. I felt her aura expand, felt her anger burning against my face, flooding past my skin. Then my vision began to double, as the head of the Dragon—which had never fully retracted—began to rise over my head again. I snarled as the feedback loop begin again—the pain was excruciating—and Scara backed up.

“Then I kill you where you stand,” I said through clenched teeth, and Scara nodded.

“Enough, enough,” the lich said, raising his hand for silence. “You have made your point, Dakota Frost—and even so, you will never know how close to death you came. Your designs have played into mine … quite nicely, I must admit. Still, I rarely tolerate such insolence in my presence. A thousand years ago I would have had your tongue cut from your mouth at the first insult. Five hundred years ago, we would have all fallen on you at the first sign of such magic in the hands of someone we do not control.

“But the world has changed, and while your diplomacy leaves much to be desired, your conduct is honorable, your power considerable—and your logic … plausible. Magic has been practiced in secret since recorded memory for good reason, but now that Pandora’s box has been opened, we will need more than just hope to fight all the things fools like you have loosed upon the world. And since sometimes the best way to fight fire is with fire … ”

And then he looked over at Lord Delancaster. The two eyed each other warily, and then Delancaster nodded heavily in agreement. He closed his eyes and raised one finger to his forehead, lips moving. Then he put his hand down and spoke clearly, like he was on TV.

“With the unprecedented spate of accidents involving magical graffiti in the recent weeks, it has become clear to me that greater regulation of
and
education in the use of magic is needed. Therefore, I am convening a Magical Security Council, including representatives of vampire, werekin and other Edgeworld communities, and I plan to petition the State of Georgia for official recognition of and empowerment of this body.

“Based on her work resolving this crisis, I appoint Dakota Frost the Council’s chair.”