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"We were on our best behavior," Ethan advised him. "Merit was filling me in on last night's investigation."
"Do tell," Luc said.
"Long story short, it's the V that's been causing the violence."
Luc frowned, sat up, and put his mug on the tabletop, hands wrapped around it like it was providing necessary warmth. I'd been cold as a newbie vampire, and it had taken some time to ward off that chill. But it was August and probably ninety degrees outside. I didn't understand people who drank coffee in the heat of summer.
"Why would some lowlife sell drugs to vamps and get them together for parties? What's he trying to accomplish?"
"Merit thinks McKetrick might be involved," Ethan said, "that maybe it's a ploy to get vamps out of the city."
I put up a hand. "That was actually Ethan's idea," I said, giving credit where credit was due . . . or distributing the blame accordingly.
Luc tilted his head back and forth while he considered it. "Whoever came up with it, it's not a bad idea, although manufacturing the drug, distributing it, organizing the parties, and everything else in the chain means a lot of work just to get rid of a population. There are easier ways."
"Agreed," Malik said. "And at the risk of jumping on one of our favorite bandwagons, the first witness saw a woman named Marie. Any votes for Celina?"
"But we haven't heard anything about her since then," I pointed out. "So if she is involved, she's staying under the radar. I'm having Jeff Christopher check the bar's security tapes, so if there's any sign of her - or any more details about the seller - we'll find them."
Luc nodded, then picked up a remote that sat beside his mug. "In that case, a little more good news to brighten your evening." He held up the remote and mashed buttons until the clip on the screen began to play.
It was a recorded news program. We caught the end of a story about international warfare before the headline switched to read, "Vamp Violence in Wrigleyville." The female anchor - polished in her jewel-toned suit, her stiff hair a helmet above her head - offered up the rest.
"In this morning's top local news," she said, "an uptick in violence in the city is deemed the result of a drug called 'V' that's circulating among the city's vampire community."
They cut to an image of a white V tablet in someone's hand, and then to a shot of Temple Bar.
"One such event was last night's disturbance at a Wrigleyville bar with ties to Cadogan House.
We were live on scene last night, and here's what one local resident had to say."
They cut to video of the two frat boys from Temple Bar.
"Oh, those traitorous little shits," Lindsey muttered. "Those are the humans Christine talked to."
"It was awful in there," said the taller of the two boys. "All those vamps just wailing on each other. It was like they just went crazy."
"Did you fear for your life?" asked an offscreen reporter.
"Oh, absolutely," he said. "How could you not? I mean, they're vampires. We're just humans."
"The atom bomb was invented by 'just humans,'" Malik muttered. "World War II and the Spanish Inquisition were perpetrated by 'just humans.'"
We were clearly not a receptive crowd for muckraking journalism.
"Aldermen Pat Jones and Clarence Walker issued statements this morning calling for investigation of Chicago's vampire Houses and their role in this new drug. Mayor Tate responded to events this morning after meeting with his economic council."
The newscast cut to a shot of Tate shaking hands with a woman in an unflattering suit.
Beside a plain-looking bureaucrat, he looked that much more like a romance-novel hero: seductive eyes, dark hair, wicked smile. You had to wonder how many votes he'd gotten because voters just wanted to be near him.
When reporters began peppering him with questions about the bar fight, he held up both hands and smiled affectionately. That smile, I thought, walked a thin line between empathy and condescension.
"I have made Chicago's Houses well aware of their responsibilities, and I'm sure they'll take whatever precautions are necessary to put an immediate stop to the spread of V and the violence. If they don't, of course, steps will have to be taken. My administration is not afraid to take those steps. We've done a lot of work to remake this city into one that Illinois can be proud of, and we will continue to ensure that Chicago remains a place of peace and prosperity."
The anchor popped on-screen again. "Mayor Tate's approval rating remains consistently high even in light of the recent violence."
With that, Luc reached up with the remote and stopped the video again.
The room went silent and heavy with concern.
I guessed I now knew why my father had called.
He was probably dying to berate me for being a vampire and sullying the family name - despite the fact that I'd had no say in becoming fanged, and I was trying my best to keep the peace in Chicago.
Unless his tone had changed about that, as well.
"Well," Ethan finally said. "It does comfort me so to know that Mayor Tate's approval ratings remain strong."
"Tate must be feeding the anchors with information," I offered. "We only barely know about the uptick in violence, and my grandfather promised to keep V out of the press."
"So Tate's using vamps to make political hay?" Luc offered. "I guess it's not the first time a politician's taken advantage of chaos, but it sure would be nice if it wasn't at our expense."
"And if he didn't have an arrest warrant ready," I agreed.
"Way to put the city first," Lindsey said.
Luc glanced over at Ethan, concern in his expression. "Anything from Darius?"
"He's still on radio silence."
"It's not going to go over well."
"Drugs and violence in my bar? Drugs and violence covered by local paparazzi that will probably spread to national coverage, if it hasn't already? No, I don't imagine he will be pleased, and there's a good chance the House will suffer for it."
"Tell him the other part," Kelley said.
"The other part?" Ethan asked, his gaze shifting from Kelley to Luc.
"The other part," Luc confirmed, picking up the tablet and tapping its screen. The image on the projector shifted from the newscast to a black-and-white live feed of a dark neighborhood street. During my stint as an on-duty House guard, I'd seen that feed enough times to be familiar with it.
"That's outside Cadogan House."
