My grandfather and Catcher talked to the cops, probably sharing notes and theories. Jeff eventually carried the laptop into the bar, probably to find out what he could about the security tapes.
When the police removed their tape and the cruisers began to depart, I headed to the spot where Lindsey and the unaffected vamps were waiting.
She stood up as I approached. "Do you know anything?"
"Not yet. Crime scenes apparently involve a lot of waiting and standing around. You?"
Lindsey glanced back at the vamps, who looked shell-shocked by the combined drama of cops, detectives, rainbow alcohol, and paparazzi.
"Nothing yet. I heard from one of the EMTs that your grandfather brought in a counselor to talk to the humans."
"It was a bar fight," I grumbled. The humans were certainly entitled to their feelings, but none of them had actually been injured - they hadn't even really been involved.
"But it was a bar fight with crazy, scary vampires," she exaggeratedly said, wiggling her fingers like a menacing monster.
I humphed, but recognized it wasn't an argument I was going to win, not when the humans were surrounded by reporters and cameras. I glanced back at the bar. "Maybe we should head back inside. Clean up a little. Do you want to round up the troops?"
"God, yes, please. Luc wanted us to stay put until the cops gave us the all clear, so I've been here and bored. I'm going to consider your request the all clear."
That rationalization worked for me. "Give me a minute head start. I want to take a look around." She nodded, so I headed back inside.
The floor of the bar was in shambles, not unlike Cadogan after the shifter attack, albeit with more casual decor. The Cubs memorabilia, thankfully, made it through the onslaught, although the tables and chairs were mostly upended. I scanned the room for anything that might give me a clue as to why our vamps were losing it, but assumed anything that would have helped had long since been picked up by the cops. And there was no short man with rave invites to be found.
If Celina was involved and she was somehow leading the vampire mass hysteria, she'd managed to get us kicked out of our own bar. It was just the kind of thing she'd have enjoyed. As I stood there alone, I imagined Celina popping up from behind the bar, awash in balloons, arms raised in victory.
"Ah, the power of fantasy," I murmured, and began picking up overturned bar tables. Lindsey came through the door, her flock of vampires behind her.
"All right, boys and girls," she said. "Let's get this place back into fighting shape. So to speak."
The vampires grumbled but obeyed, righting chairs and tables. Colin groaned as he walked back through the door as he surveyed his place.
He glanced over at me. "You gonna figure this out?"
"I'm working on it," I assured him. "And speaking of, I need one more favor. I don't suppose you can whistle?"
He put two fingers in his mouth and let out a high-pitched trill. It took only a moment before I had the attention of all the vampires in the bar.
"Discretion is the better part of valor," I said, "so I'm going into the back office. If anybody's got information, this would be a good time to come talk to me."
Like an irritated elementary school teacher, I stared them down until I began to see a few sheepish expressions crossing their faces. This probably wasn't going to do anything for my popularity, but it needed to be done. Playing social chair was secondary to playing Sentinel and actually keeping the House intact.
I glanced over at Colin and held out a hand until he offered up the office keys. When I had them in hand, I headed back for the office. I unlocked it and moved immediately to the file cabinet. I could use a drink, and I didn't think he'd mind if I sampled his flask. I popped open the top drawer, pulled out the flask, and gave the contents a warning sniff.
My nose wrinkled. Whatever was in his secret mix, it smelled pickled. I squeezed my eyes shut and took a sip.
It was . . . not that bad, actually. It wasn't a taste I could easily describe - "pickled" came closest, but there were also the tang of blood and a sweet edge that balanced out the taste, not unlike raspberry vinaigrette. Of course, I didn't want to drink down raspberry vinaigrette, so I put the cap back on and promised myself an extra Mallocake when I finally made it home.
I noticed her in the doorway just as I closed the file cabinet again. She was a vamp I'd seen around the House but didn't really know, a cute brunette with long, wavy hair and a curvy figure.
She looked right and left down the hallway as if afraid she might be seen darkening the teacher's door.
"You can shut the door if you want," I told her. She stepped inside and closed the door behind her. "I'm Adriana," she said. "I'm on the third floor of the House."
"Nice to meet you."
She got right to the point. "I don't like playing tattletale, but I'm loyal to my House, and I'm loyal to Ethan." There was no doubting the ferociousness of that affection in her gaze. "And someone threatens that, or the House, it's time to speak up."
I nodded solemnly. "I'm listening."
"I saw it the first time a few weeks ago. I was at a party - no humans - and a Grey House vamp was using it. He tried it, and twenty minutes later he was pounding someone he said had made a pass at his girl."
Adriana paused, seemed to gather her courage, and then looked up at me again. "And then, tonight, I found this in the bathroom." She held out a clenched fist, and then opened her fingers.
In her palm sat a small white envelope with a V inscribed on the front. I didn't need to look inside to know what it would hold.
I squeezed my eyes shut, irritated with my own stupidity. The drugs hadn't been for the humans.
They hadn't been used to make humans more biddable; that was just good old-fashioned glamour.
They were for vampires. It wasn't the spill of magic or a virus or some sort of mass hysteria that was making them aggressive - it was a drug they'd apparently been stupid enough to take.
Maybe it weakened their inhibitions toward violence; maybe it increased their testosterone.
Whatever the chemistry, this was the reason the vamps at the rave had been willing to fight over my stumbling, the reason the vamps at the bar were fighting over rainbow booze . . . and probably the reason why Mayor Tate thought three humans had been killed in West Town.
"Thanks," I said, opening my eyes again and holding out my hand. She handed over the drugs.
"If it's any consolation, immortality makes some of them bored," Adriana said, "so they do things - they try things - that they wouldn't ordinarily try. But now it's making the rounds through Temple Bar, and I don't want to see it infiltrate the House."