Hard Bitten (Chicagoland Vampires 4)

"Excellent call. Did you ever meet the seller?"

I asked.

She shook her head. "These things move from vamp to vamp. Unless you're looking to score, which I'm not, you don't even come in contact with the seller."

Another miss, but at least I'd put some information together. Someone out there was selling V to Cadogan vampires. Another someone  - maybe the same someone? - was soliciting humans for raves.

Whoever was orchestrating it, put the two together and you had an explosive situation.

"Thanks for letting me know. I'll see to it Ethan finds out about the V so we can put a stop to it, but I won't tell him who told me."

I could see the relief in her face, but she quickly squared her shoulders again. "You find out," she said. "You find out who is putting this out there, who is putting us at risk."

"I intend to," I promised her.

By the time I made it back into the bar, the chairs and tables were right side up again.

Christine was sweeping up broken glass while another member of our Novitiate class held the pail for her. Colin was back behind the bar, cleaning up overturned booze and broken beer bottles.

Heads turned as I walked in, vamps looking at me curiously. They probably wondered what I now knew - and how much trouble they were going to be in because of it.

It was a good question. 'Cause right now, on behalf of me, Ethan, the House, I was pissed. I could have been sympathetic to the brawlers when I'd imagined this was some kind of traveling hysteria. But this was something they'd chosen to do. All this trouble - the cops, the bad press we were inevitably going to receive, Tate's rampage, the raves - was caused because idiot vampires had decided to take drugs.

They'd made a choice to wreak havoc, and I had no sympathy for that.

I stalked to the bar and vaulted over it, then grabbed the rope of the giant bell that hung behind it. It was used for vampire silliness, usually to signal the start of a drinking game based on Ethan's idiosyncrasies.

But now I used it to signal something more serious.

I grabbed the rope and slung it back and forth until the bell pealed across the room. Then I pulled an ice bucket from a shelf and put it square in the middle of the bar. I scanned the crowd to make sure only vamps were in attendance, and when the magic checked out, I let the vitriol flow.

"So this is about drugs," I said, and felt a little better when some of the unaffected vampires looked surprised; at least they hadn't been using.

But they were apparently the only ones.

"Some of you have been using," I said. "I don't know why, and I'm not sure I care. Either way, you couldn't have picked a worse time.

Darius is in town, and Ethan is already in trouble.

The House is on the hot seat with Tate, and this certainly isn't going to help."

I let that sink in for a moment, taking in the hushed whispers and worried looks.

"Things are changing," I said, my tone softer.

"Our House has been through hell recently, and the future isn't looking much brighter. I'm not going to tell Ethan which of you were here tonight."

There were looks of obvious relief around the room.

"But we can't let this happen again. We cannot - I cannot - allow V into the House.

Besides, since I have to tell the cops about the drugs, there's a pretty good chance everyone will be frisked before they leave."

I held up the ice bucket to show them I meant business, then put it down on the bar. "If you've got V on you, it goes in the bucket. I'll take it out of the bar myself and turn it over to the cops. It will be better coming from me than all of you individually. We can't let things get worse. So for the sake of the House, do the right thing."

I turned and faced the wall, giving them the privacy to make their deposits. It took a few seconds, but I finally heard footsteps and shuffling of chairs, and then the ping of a tablet or the quiet thush of an envelope hitting the side of the bucket.

The sounds of conscience clearing.

After a moment, Colin called my name. "I think they're done," he quietly said when I glanced at him.

I nodded, then looked back at the crowd.

"Thank you. I'll make sure he knows that you helped, that you understood your responsibilities.

And you can always, always come to me if you have problems."

With that said, but still feeling like a total narc, I grabbed up the bucket and headed for the door.

I now knew why this was happening, knew why the raves were bigger and meaner than before.

I'd hopefully been able to keep the chaos out of our House.

Now I had to find the pusher and put a stop to the chaos everywhere else.

I made my way outside and found my grandfather, Catcher, and Jeff. My grandfather sat at the curb, his expression somber.

He stood up when I approached. I guided him behind one of the cruisers - and out of the way of the paparazzi - before handing over the bucket.

"This is V," I said. "The same stuff we saw at the Streeterville party. Apparently it spread from Benson's to Grey House to Temple Bar, where Cadogan vamps were stupid enough to try it." I looked at Catcher. "This is why they've been so violent. It's not the glamour or the magic - "

"It's the drugs," he agreed with a nod. "Not for humans, but for vampires."

"I'd guess you're probably right about that," my grandfather said, pulling two small, clear plastic evidence bags from the pocket of his jacket. There were pills and envelopes in each.

"Where did you find those?"

"On the floor of the bar," he said. "Someone must have dropped it in the confusion. Maybe the V stands for 'vampire.' Or 'violence'?"

"Whatever you call it," Catcher said, "it's bad. V is in the clubs, it's in the parties, it's in the vampires."

My grandfather glanced back at the paparazzi, who were flashing pictures from behind the police tape, their gray and black lenses zooming in and out as they tried to capture each bit of the scene.

"I can't keep them from taking pictures," he said, "but I'll hold on to the V issue as long as possible. At this point, the drug's only targeted at vampires, and there doesn't seem to be an obvious risk to humans."

"I appreciate that, and I'm sure Ethan does, too."

A beat cop approached my grandfather,

making eyes at me as he did it. Catcher, Jeff, and I were silent as my grandfather stepped aside, chatting quietly with the officer and, when they were done, passing him the bucket.

When my grandfather walked back over again, his brow furrowed, I assumed nothing good was heading my way.

"How do you feel about coming down to the precinct and giving a statement?"