“New House, new digs. Well, relatively new House, anyway. Only eight years old, which isn’t much when immortality is the context.” He walked to a mini-fridge built into a cabinet on the far wall and opened it, revealing tidy rows of longneck bottles. He plucked one out and walked my way.
“I don’t think hair of the dog is going to do it for me today.”
“It’s not beer.” When he held it out, I looked it over. It was blood. Traditional beer bottle, but definitely not the traditional brew. It was another Blood4You product—the unfortunately named LongBeer. They really could use Mallory’s marketing expertise.
“You looked like you could use it.”
I nodded my agreement and twisted off the cap, my fingers shaking with the sudden hunger.
The blood was cold and had a peppery zing to it, like it had been doctored with a dash or two of Tabasco.
As blood went, it was delicious. But, more important, it satiated the need. I finished the bottle in seconds flat, then lowered it again, chest heaving.
“Guess you needed that?”
I nodded, wiping my mouth with the back of my hand. “Sorry. Sometimes the hunger takes me.”
Jonah reached out and took the bottle from my hand. “It can do that. And you had a big night last night.”
“Not as big as it might have been, but big enough. I got hungry at the party, and I was lucky not to flip out like everyone else there.”
He dropped the bottle into a bin beside the refrigerator. “Speaking of, you certainly got the vamps fired up.”
“It wasn’t me,” I assured him. “A female vamp bumped me, and I ended up with two vamps in my face trying to take me out.”
Jonah frowned. “There did seem to be a lot of aggression in the air.”
“And did you notice their eyes?” I asked.
“Totally silver, barely any pupil. They were seriously vamped out.”
“There was also a lot of magic in the room.
You put those two things together and you get vamps itching for a fight.”
I shook my head. “This couldn’t just be volume—all the vampires in a room together.
The Houses couldn’t exist if just being near other vampires made them predatory enough to fight for no reason. Maybe it’s a mob-mentality thing?
One vamp sanctions violence and the rest of them fall into line?”
Jonah shook his head. “I’ve got another theory. What if the magic wasn’t just leaked by the vamps—what if it was directing them?”
“You’re suggesting someone was using magic against us? Fueling the aggression?”
He nodded. “Making the vamps super predatorial.”
“Okay,” I allowed, “say it is magic. But who does that implicate? Sorcerers? They usually try to stay away from vamp drama, and there are only, like, three in the Chicago area. I know two of them, and making vamps play gladiator isn’t exactly on their to-do list.” Granted, I’d never met Mallory’s tutor, but I had a pretty good idea how he was spending his time—training her.
“Okay, so probably not sorcerers. How did you find Sarah?” Jonah asked.
“She was sitting on the floor, looked completely spaced-out. No visible bite marks, so something else had to be going on. Is it possible to glamour someone into illness? I mean, to make them physically weaker just from the glamour?”
He frowned, considering it. “I’ve never seen it.
But that’s not to say it’s not possible. Did you learn anything from her? How she found out about the party?”
I passed along the information she’d given me about Temple Bar and the man she’d seen outside. “She also gave me this,” I said, digging the envelope from my pocket. I pulled it out, then opened the flap and emptied the envelope’s contents into my hand.
Two white pills fell into my palm.
“Well,” he said, “that might explain why she was so out of it.”
I held one tablet up to the light. The same curvy V was pressed into its surface.
“She said she didn’t take anything.”
“She was also embarrassed about what happened.”
“True,” I agreed. “Tate said Mr. Jackson had been arrested for drug possession. So maybe vamps are drugging humans to make them, what, more susceptible to glamour?”
“Given the crowd you saw last night, would that seem farfetched to you?”
Unfortunately, it didn’t. Of course, we also didn’t have any evidence of it. Sarah could have been glamoured—not that vamps manipulating humans was a big improvement over drugging them.
Whatever the case, it was worth looking into. I put the pills back into the envelope, then tucked it into my pocket again. “I’ll take them to the Ombud’s office,” I told him. “Maybe they can find out more.”
The debriefing done, Jonah let me freshen up in his small bathroom. I rubbed at mascara smears and hitched up my ponytail again.
When I came out, he was pulling a buzzing phone from his pocket. He glanced up at me.
“I’m going to take this. I’ll be right back. Make yourself at home. There’s more blood if you need it.”
I nodded at him. “Thanks.”
He stepped outside and closed the door behind him, leaving me alone in the cool comfort of his suite.
I rounded the corner, moving into the sitting room and toward a group of framed papers on the wall. They were diplomas for four doctorates: three from state schools in Illinois (history, anthropology, and geography) and one from Northwestern (German literature and critical thought). Each diploma bore a variation of his name—John, Jonah, Jonathan, Jack—and their dates were spread in time across the twentieth century.
I guess graduate school was possible for a vampire.
The door opened. “Sorry,” he said behind me.
“It was Noah. He is now aware you spent the night at his condo last night.”
“Good call,” I said, assuming Ethan didn’t quiz me on the finer points of Noah’s home—or any other details about Noah other than the little I already knew.