Hard Bitten - Chloe Neill [66]
“Have you noticed anything out of the ordinary around here lately?”
He made a sarcastic sound. “Once upon a time, this was a bar for vampires. For the fanged and their kith and kin. Since we came out of the closet, I’ve been serving humans who think male vamps are brooding, romantic heroes and female vamps have a secret weight-loss formula. I’m also occasionally serving humans who think vamps are trash and the harbingers of the apocalypse. So out of the ordinary? Yes, Sentinel. I’d say so.”
By the end of the rant, his words had sped up, and the faster he talked, the more pronounced his accent became. I’d never been to Ireland, but I could hear green hills in his voice.
He also had a point, but I was looking for something a little more specific, so I got to mine. “We think vamps are using the bar to find humans for a new kind of rave. Anything like that ring a bell?”
He took a sip from his flask. “Like I said, plenty of humans want to spend time with vampires. I’m not sure I’d recognize the difference between a vamp hitting on a human and a vamp inviting a human to attend a drinking party of some type.”
“Fair enough.” I gnawed my lip for a moment, disappointed he hadn’t given me any breakthrough information. “Okay, how about drugs? Something called V? It might be used to make humans susceptible to glamour.”
His brows lifted with interest. “You don’t say. Are we so unskilled at glamour these days that we have to resort to pharmaceuticals to do the job?”
“We’re not sure yet about how it works—just that it’s been found at a party.”
He shrugged one shoulder. “This is a bar; drugs are par for the course. I haven’t heard about any new drugs being passed around, but that doesn’t mean it’s not happening.”
Strike three for the Sentinel, but I tried again. “What about familiar characters? Anyone hanging around the bar a lot more than usual? Anyone out of place, or anyone who pops up over and over?”
Colin leaned back in his chair and crossed his arms over his chest, the flask nestled beneath his arms like a doll. “I don’t want to rain on your parade, and I appreciate everything you do for the House as Sentinel. But to be frank, I spend my time trying to ensure the vampires and humans in this bar are well tended and entertained and have an opportunity to burn off a little of the steam that builds up through the workweek. But if you’re asking me if I’ve seen anything suggesting Temple Bar is the new HQ for some kind of rave movement? Then no, I have not.”
Deflated, I sighed. I’d figured the guy who spent most of his time at the bar was going to have the best insight into what Sarah had thought was going on at Temple Bar. But he had a point; he might have had the access, but he also had plenty else to do.
I nodded. “Thanks for the honesty. Get in touch if you think of anything?”
He offered a wink. “Rest assured, Sentinel.”
With no more information in hand, I excused Colin and headed back into the bar.
And that was when I got surprise number two.
I knew Lindsey had been born in Iowa. I knew her father was a pork producer. I knew she’d lived in New York and had an allegiance toward the Yankees that I, as a loyal Cubs fan, could only assume was the result of some sort of low-grade vampire insanity.
I did not know she was bartender extraordinaire.
I found Lindsey behind the bar and a crush of vamps fourdeep, dollars in hand, shouting her name like she’d just won them a pennant.
Girl was a phenomenon. She spun a cocktail shaker horizontally in one hand and a bottle of blue alcohol in the other. The crowd let out a “Woot!” when she flipped the bottle over her shoulder and caught it again in the palm of her hand, then dumped the contents of both containers into a martini glass. The bottle and shaker hit the top of the bar, and then the glass was in her hand and headed for the vampire in front of her. She tidily plucked cash from the vamp’s extended fingers