Drink Deep (Chicagoland Vampires 5)

"Armageddon" were sprinkled among the hand-painted posters, just as we'd feared. And to be frank, I couldn't completely blame them. Even I wasn't sure why the lake had turned black and started leeching magic, so I guess the end of the world was on the list of possibilities. It was at the bottom of the list, but it was stil on the list.

The protestors weren't the only ones out in force. We'd been the subject of picture- (and money-) hungry paparazzi for a while now; a corps of photographers was usual y camped out on a corner near the House. Tonight, though, news trucks lined the street, reporters waiting to see vampire shenanigans. Anything that went wrong in this city and was remotely paranormal in nature led them straight to our door. It was an argument for outing the rest of Chicago's sups, if only to take some of the heat off us.

The reporters, familiar with me through the Ponytailed Avenger story and my patrols of the Cadogan grounds, cal ed me to a stop.

I didn't want to support their efforts at sensational journalism, but I figured their theories would only get worse if I ignored them. So I walked over to a knot of reporters and offered a muted acknowledgment.

"Tough night out there, isn't it?"

Some chuckled; others began shouting out questions.

"Did vampires poison the lake?"

"Is this the beginning of the end for the city of Chicago?"

"Is this the first plague?"

I had to work to keep my expression neutral and not rol my eyes at the questions. That I had no idea made that a K

madthlittle easier.

"I was hoping you'd tel me!" I said, offering a light smile.

"We're trying to figure that out ourselves."

"This wasn't something created by vampires? A magic spel ?"

"Vampires don't do spel s." I scanned the media badge of the man in front of me. "Maybe it was Matthew here who turned the water black."

The crowd laughed but the questions kept coming.

"Believe me," I said, raising my hands, "we want the lake back to normal as quickly as you do, and we're trying to figure it out just like everyone else in Chicago. Problem is, we didn't do it, so we're having trouble figuring out where to start."

"Merit, is this the start of the apocalypse?" piped up a reporter in the back.

"I certainly hope not. But if I'm going down, let it be in Chicago with a red hot in hand. Am I right?"

Sure, it was sycophantic, and I'm sure some of the press guys picked up on that. But what else could I do? If I didn't keep the focus off vampires, things were going to get very nasty very quickly. With questions peppering the air behind me, I waved good-bye and walked into the House, sharing a sympathetic eye rol with the fairies at the gate when I passed them.

I felt a pang as I wondered what Ethan, a PR master strategist if there ever was one, would have said to them. I wasn't him, but I hoped I'd done enough to keep things calm for a little while longer.

I headed immediately to the Ops Room; Kel ey and Juliet were the only guards there. Both looked up when I entered, but their expressions fel after seeing my face.

"No luck?" Kel ey asked.

"Not much," I said, taking a seat at the conference table beside Kel ey. "The River nymphs are grieving, and by al accounts had nothing to do with the water. They've pointed their little manicured fingers at Lorelei, the lake siren. She lives on an island in the middle of the lake. The Ombud's office is arranging for transportation, but not until tomorrow.

I hope it's a solid lead."

Kel ey frowned and nodded. In the way of al managers, I imagine she wanted a crisis addressed and solved so she could move on to the next matter at hand - whether dealing with a shortage of guards or a receiver in the House.

"If that's the best we can do, that's the best we can do,"

Kel ey said. "It doesn't exactly take pressure off the House, but I wouldn't condone sending you into the middle of the lake a few hours before sunrise, either."

I told Kel ey about my grandfather's plans and my discussion with the paparazzi outside.

Kel ey looked suddenly tired, and I wondered if she was tired of the drama, or if Frank's blood restrictions were beginning to take their tol . The Thai food had quenched one appetite, but I could feel the hunger for blood slinking around in my mind, waiting for a time to strike. I made a note to check the kitchen upstairs for a bag of Blood4You.

"We do what we can," Kel ey said. "That's al we can do.

We work the problem and pray we can get out in front of it before the next crisis hits."

"Second that," Juliet said from her computer station.

Kel ey sighed. "And speaking of unpleasantries, I'm advised you're next on Frank's interview list."

"Yay," I said with zero enthusiasm. "I'm total y looking forward to that."

"I could assign you to spend the rest of your evening in the library, researching the lake siren to get a feel for her strengths and weaknesses. After al , it would be a dereliction of my duty to send you out to an island without being prepared. And if you were in the library stacks, Frank may not be able to find you . . ."

I grinned in appreciation. "Sneaky. I appreciate that."

"Not sneaky. Just wil ing to use the tools at my disposal.

And right now, you're my tool. I need you investigating this problem and keeping humans off our back. Being interrogated by a GP pencil pusher is not going to assist in that process." She stood up and walked to her desk, then sat down behind her computer. "Learn what you can, and fil me in on what you find out."

I gave her a salute and headed upstairs again.

CHAPTER FIVE

PAPER TOWERS

The library was on the second floor of the House, not far from my room. It had two floors - the first held the majority of the books and a balcony wrapped in a wrought-iron railing held another set. It was a cavalcade of tomes, al in immaculate rows, and with study carrels and tables thrown in for good measure. It was my home away from home (away from home).

I walked inside and paused for a moment to breathe in the scent of paper and dust - the perfumes of knowledge.

The library was empty of patrons as far as I could tel , but I could hear the rhythmic squeal of a library cart somewhere in the rows. I fol owed them down until I found the dark-haired vampire shelving books with mechanical precision. I knew him only as "the librarian." He was a fount of information, and he had a penchant for leaving books outside my door.

I cleared my throat to get his attention. He looked up, eyes narrowed, probably prepared to give me a lecture about making noise in the library. (A set of rules inside the door warned, among other things, that cough drops were required for patrons with scratchy throats. The librarian wanted no aural interruptions within his domain.) But when he realized it was me, he held up a hand and ducked down to the bottom shelf of his cart. He popped up again with a bundle of books, which he hefted toward me.