"That's the most ridiculous thing I've ever heard," said the tattooist.
"That's not what the ladies are going to say," said Adrian.
"Look, kid," said the guy. "It's not even about money. It's about availability. That's a lot of ink you're talking about, and I don't have that much in stock."
"Well, when will your supplier deliver next?" asked Adrian.
I stared in awe at what I had found: I was in the room where the tattooing took place. There was a lounging chair - much more comfortable than the table I'd received my tattoo on - and a small side table covered with what appeared to be freshly used implements.
"I've already got some people wait-listed ahead of you. I don't know when there'll be more."
"Can you call me when you know?" Adrian asked. "I'll give you my info. My name's Jet Steele."
If not for my own tense situation, I would've groaned. Jet Steele? Really? Before I could think much more about it, I finally found what I'd been looking for. The tattoo gun on the table had its own ink container, but sitting nearby were several smaller vials. All of them were empty, but some still had enough metallic residue of their former ingredients to tip me off. Without even thinking twice, I quickly began recapping them and putting them in my purse. Nearby, I noticed some sealed vials full of dark liquid. I froze for a moment. Carefully, I picked one up, opened it, and took a sniff.
It was what I'd feared.
I screwed the lid back on and added those vials to my purse.
Just then, I heard a rattling behind me. Someone was trying to open the back door. I'd bolted it behind me, however, and it didn't give. Still, it meant my time for snooping was up. I was just zipping up my purse when I heard the store's front door open.
"Joey, why's the back door locked?" an angry voice demanded.
"It's always locked."
"No, the bolt was on. From the inside. It wasn't when I left."
Cue my exit. I flipped off the light and began hurrying back through the storage room.
"Wait!" exclaimed Adrian. There was an anxious note to his voice, like he was trying to get someone's attention. I had the uneasy feeling that the two guys who worked here were headed back behind the counter to investigate. "I need to know something else about the tattoo. Can the parrot also be wearing a pirate's hat? Like a miniature one?"
"In a minute. We have to check something." The voice was louder than before. Closer.
My hands fumbled as I unlatched the bolt. I managed it and opened the door, hurrying out just as I heard voices behind me. Without pausing to glance back, I shut the door and ran out the alley and up the street, back toward where I'd parked. I was pretty sure the guys hadn't gotten a good look at me. I think I'd just been a figure darting out the door. Still, I was grateful for the crowds of people on the street. I was able to blend in as I turned my attention to my car and unlocked the door. My hands were sweaty and shaking as I fumbled with the keys.
I wanted badly to look behind me but was afraid of attracting the attention of the two men, if they were out searching the street. As long as they had no reason to suspect me -
A hand suddenly grabbed my arm and jerked me away. I gasped.
"It's me," said a voice.
Adrian. I breathed a sigh of relief.
"Don't look back," he said calmly. "Just get in the car."
I obeyed. Once we were both safely inside, I took a deep breath, overwhelmed by the pounding of my heart. Fear-born adrenaline surged in my chest, so strongly it hurt. I closed my eyes and leaned back.
"That was too close," I said. "And you did good, by the way."
"I know," he said proudly. "And actually, I kind of want that tattoo now. Did you find what you were looking for?"
I opened my eyes and sighed. "I did. And a whole lot more."
"So, what is it? They're putting drugs in tattoos?"
"Worse," I said. "They're using vampire blood."
Chapter Seventeen
MY DISCOVERY KICKED the tattoo problem up to a whole new level. Before, I'd just thought I was fighting against people using techniques similar to Alchemist methods to expose Amberwood to drugs. It had been a moral issue. Now, with blood on the line - it was an Alchemist issue. Our whole purpose was to protect humans from the existence of vampires. If someone was illicitly putting vampire blood into humans, they'd crossed the line we worked hard, every day, to maintain.
I knew I should immediately report this. If someone had gotten their hands on vampire blood, the Alchemists needed to send a force here and investigate. If I followed the normal chain of command, I supposed the thing would be to tell Keith and let him tell our superiors. If he did, however, I had no doubt he'd claim all the credit for uncovering this. I couldn't let that happen - and not because I wanted the glory for myself. Too many Alchemists erroneously believed Keith was an upstanding person. I didn't want to fuel that.
But before I did anything, I needed to figure out the rest of the vials' contents. I could make guesses at the metallic residues but wasn't sure if, like the blood, they came straight from the Alchemist catalog or were just knockoffs. And if they were our formulas, it wasn't obvious at a glance which were which.
The silver powder in one vial, for example, could have been a few different Alchemist compounds. I had the means to do some experiments and figure it out, but one substance eluded me. It was clear, slightly thick liquid that had no discernable odor. My guess was that it was the narcotic used in the celestial tattoos. Vampire blood wouldn't cause that high, though it would absolutely explain the crazy athleticism of the so-called steel tattoos. So, I began running what experiments I could, while going on with the normal routines of school.
We were playing basketball inside in PE this week, so Jill was participating - and being subjected to Laurel's biting comments. I kept hearing her say things like, "You'd think she'd be a lot better since she's so tall. She can practically touch the basket without jumping. Or maybe she should turn into a bat and fly up there."
I winced. I had to keep telling myself not to make a big deal of the jokes, but every time I heard one, panic seized me. I had to hide it, though. If I wanted to help Jill, I needed the teasing stopped as a whole - not just the vampire stuff. Drawing more attention to those comments wouldn't help.
Micah tried to comfort Jill after each attack, which clearly infuriated Laurel more. Laurel's weren't the only comments reaching my ears. Since my raid of the tattoo parlor, I'd been hearing a fair amount of interesting information from Slade and his friends.