Blood Bound (Mercy Thompson #2)(80)

He turned onto Third and slowed way down so we could look for likely buildings. Gabriel's sister hadn't told me which side of Washington the church was on. Since my shop was east of there, that's where we started. I pressed several buttons and finally got my window to roll down so I could sniff the air.

"All right," he said. "Maybe the demon changes the rules, but they're not supposed to be able to abide holy ground either. Or, the church could have been desecrated."

"It was a school for a while," I said hopefully.

He shook his head. "Not unless it was a whorehouse. It takes one of the great sins to desecrate a church-adultery, murder-something of that nature."

"How about a suicide?" I asked. Gabriel's sister hadn't said the suicide had taken place in the church-but she hadn't said it hadn't happened there either.

He glanced at me. "Then I think a demon would take great delight in living in a desecrated church."

The traffic on Washington was light tonight and he goosed the little sports car across all four lanes without stopping for the stop sign.

"When this is over," I muttered darkly, "I am never getting in a car with a vampire driving again."

Rosalinda was right. The church was two blocks off of Washington. There were no signs around it, but it was unmistakably a church.

It was bigger than I expected, almost three times the size of the church I attended on Sundays. The old church had once had a fair sized yard, but there was little left of it but sunburnt weeds chopped almost level with the ground. The parking lot had faired little better, the blacktop had worn down until it was more rock than tar and bleached weeds poked out through branching cracks in the surface. I looked, but I couldn't see any sign of the BMW Littleton had been driving.

Andre pulled over as soon as we saw the church, parking his car across the street, in front of a two-story Victorian home that looked as though it might once have been a farm house.

"I don't see his car," I said.

"Maybe he's already out hunting," said Andre. "But I think you're right, he was here. This is someplace he would stay." He closed his eyes and inhaled. It made me realize that he hadn't been breathing tonight except a couple of shallow breaths before he talked. I must be getting used to being around vampires. Ugh.

I took a deep breath myself, but there were too many scents around. Dogs, cats, cars, blacktop that had baked all day in the hot sun, and plants. I knew without looking that there was a rose garden behind the house we were standing in front of-and that someone nearby was composting. I couldn't smell werewolf, demon, or vampire-except for Andre. I hadn't realized how much I'd been counting on some sign that Adam or Samuel had been here.

"I don't smell anything."

Andre lifted an eyebrow and I realized that under the right circumstances he was very good looking-and that I'd been right, there was something different about him, something more tonight.

"He's not stupid," he said. "Only a stupid vampire leaves a trail to his doorstep." There was a little bit of pride in his voice.

He looked at the church a moment, then starting walking across the street, leaving me to trot after him.

"Shouldn't we be practicing a little stealth?" I asked.

"If he's at home, he'll know we're here anyway," he told me helpfully. "If he's not, then it doesn't matter."

I stretched my senses as far as I could, and wished that the roses didn't have quite so strong a scent. I couldn't smell anything. I wished I was certain that Andre would fight on my side tonight.

"So if we're not trying to take him by surprise," I asked, "why did you park across the street?"

"I paid over a hundred grand for that car," Andre told me mildly. "And I'm moderately fond of it. I'd hate to see it destroyed in a fit of temper."

"Why aren't you more afraid of Littleton?" I asked. I was afraid. I could smell my own fear over and above the roses, which had, oddly enough, grown stronger after we crossed the street.

Andre stepped off the road and onto the sidewalk, then came to a full stop and looked at me. "I fed deeply this evening," he said with an odd smile. "The Mistress herself did me that honor. With the ties that already bind us, and her blood fresh within me, I can call upon her gifts and her power at my need. It will take more than a new-made vampire, even one aided by a demon, to defeat us."

I remembered how easily Littleton had subdued Stefan and had my doubts. "Then why didn't Marsilia just come herself?" I asked.

His jaw dropped in genuine shock. " Marsilia is a lady. Women do not belong in combat."

"So you brought me instead?"

He opened his mouth then closed it again, looking a little embarrassed by what he'd been about to say to me.

"What?" I asked, beginning to be a little amused-which was better than terrified. "Isn't it polite to tell someone she's expendable because she's not a vampire?"

At a loss, he started up the cement steps that led to the worn double doors that hadn't been painted in too many years. I followed, but stayed a step behind.

"No," he said finally, his hand on the doorknob. "And I prefer to be polite." He turned to look down at me. "My mistress was certain that you were the only person who would be able to find this vampire. She gets glimpses of the future sometimes. Not often, but what she does see is seldom wrong."