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 and pushed it into a jar.
The crowd around her let out a round of applause; Lindsey made a little bow and then began prepping a drink for the next vamp in line.
The vamps at the bar watched her movements with shifting eyes as if they were waiting for a once-in-a-lifetime sip of rare and limited wine.
Personally, I didn't understand the appeal, but I wasn't much of a drinker.
I turned at the tap on my shoulder and found Christine at my side.
"Anything to report?"
She gestured toward the boys. "Our new favorite fraternity brothers are here at least once a week, usually on weekends. Last Friday, they were smoking in the alley when a man approached them, made some overtures about trying out a new vampire experience. As it turns out, while our fraternity brothers were brave enough to venture into a vampire bar, they weren't quite brave enough for anything more than that." She gave me a knowing smile.
"Drinking at a bar with vamps apparently gives them a taste of danger without the calories, so to speak. They didn't get a good look at the man, but - "
I held up a hand to stop her, satisfaction warming my blood. I really did enjoy the moment when the puzzle pieces began to fall into place.
"Let me guess - he was short, older, dark hair?"
Her eyes widened in surprise. "How did you know?"
"My witness was taking a breather outside when she was approached by a man with the same description."
"And he's using Temple Bar as his own personal recruiting ground?"
"That might be the case."
Rowdy applause split the air near the bar. I looked over just in time to see Lindsey finish up another drink and clap her hands together like a Vegas dealer.
"And now, for my next trick," she said, sliding me a glance, "something vampires never get to see. I will make your House social chair do my bidding!"
With the encouragement of the crowd, she beckoned me over. I rolled my eyes, but the crowd apparently appreciated the humor, so I did my part and slid behind the bar.
She immediately began bossing me around, pointing to medium-sized glasses. "Give me seven of those and line 'em up along the bar."
When I did as directed, Lindsey grabbed a clean cocktail shaker and began pouring alcohol into it. After she'd layered five or six kinds of booze, she put the bottles down again and capped the shaker.
"You know what I miss?" she asked the crowd. "Clouds. Sunshine. That weird moment when it rains but the sun's still out. Sunrises.
Sunsets - until after the fact, of course."
The crowd chuckled appreciatively.
"But you know what I miss most of all?" she continued. "Rainbows, like a handful of Skittles thrown across the sky. So for all of you lovely Cadogan vamps, here's a rainbow, one color at a time."
With a flick of her wrist, Lindsey began pouring the liquid in a cascade over the glasses.
She filled the first glass with blue and, as soon as each glass was full, switched to the next. Like magic, the alcohol she'd layered into the cocktail shaker became a rainbow across the glasses, from turquoise to a bright shade of pink. When she was finished, there were seven glasses of liquid that stood on the bar like a perfect, wet rainbow.
"And that," she said, putting the shaker back on the bar, "is how vampires make rainbows."
The bar burst into applause. I had to admit, it was a pretty sweet trick. The drinks might not taste especially good - they looked like sci-fi movie props, to be honest - but they looked phenomenal.
Lindsey glanced over at me and grinned. "Not bad for a Yankees fan, eh?"
"Not bad at all," Colin said, stepping behind the bar again. "You did us proud."
He apparently hadn't been the only one impressed. The vamps along the bar, a mix of men and women, began jostling for position to get at one of the seven drinks.
"It's just booze, ladies and gents," Colin said with a chuckle, wiping up the excess alcohol Lindsey had spilled.
"There is plenty more where that came from," she added, "and I'm sure Colin would be happy to take your money for it."
Colin chuckled, but the jostling for Lindsey's drinks hit me as odd. Essentially, they were booze poured by a member of the House whom the vamps could have seen any night of the week - and in a bar they could have visited any night of the week.
My senses on edge, I moved back to the end of the bar, and caught Lindsey's glance from the corner of my eye. She'd watched me move, and ever the savvy guard, she gave the vamps the same once-over, saw them nudging one another to get to the alcohol.
That meant we were both watching the moment a little pushing erupted into a full-blown fight.
Chapter Thirteen
THE REVOLUTION WILL BE TELEVISED
"I saw it first," said a vamp at the end of the bar with dreadlocks pushed back under a beret-style hat.
"I was reaching for it when you put your meaty hand out there," said a second, a slender, brown-haired man wearing a dark T-shirt and khakis. They looked more like poetry-slam or coffeehouse guys than Temple Bar scrappers . . . until they began punching each other in the face.
"What the shit?" Lindsey exclaimed as I jumped around the bar to pull them apart. I grabbed T-shirt by his arm and yanked him backward. He stumbled a few feet before hitting the bar floor on his butt. Dreadlocks - still in the heat of passion - swung out at me - but I caught his fist and swung his arm around, leveraging his weight so that he went to his knees.
And then I looked into his eyes. His pupils were tiny, his silvered irises diamond-bright rings around them.