Guilty Pleasures - Laurell K. Hamilton [90]
Of course, nothing I was carrying would stop Malcolm. He was one of the most powerful master vampires in the city. After seeing Nikolaos and Jean-Claude, I’d say he ranked third. In the company I was judging him against, third wasn’t bad. So why confront him? Because I couldn’t think of what else to do.
I had left a letter detailing my suspicions about the church and everybody else in a safe deposit box. Doesn’t everybody have one? Ronnie knew about it, and there was a letter on the secretary’s desk at Animators, Inc. It would go out Monday morning to Dolph, unless I called up to stop it.
One attempt on my life and I was getting all paranoid. Fancy that.
The parking lot was full. People were drifting inside the church in small groups. A few had simply walked up, no cars. I stared hard at them, Vampires, before full dark? But no, just humans.
I zipped the windbreaker partway up. Didn’t want to disturb services by flashing a gun.
A young woman, brown hair style-gelled into an artificial wave over one eye, was handing out pamphlets just inside the door. A guide to the service, I supposed. She smiled and said, “Welcome. Is this your first time?”
I smiled back at her, pleasant, as if I wasn’t carrying enough weaponry to take out half the congregation. “I have an appointment to see Malcolm.”
Her smile didn’t change. If anything it deepened, flashing a dimple to one side of her lipsticked mouth. Somehow, I didn’t think she knew I’d killed someone today. People don’t generally smile at me when they know things like that.
“Just a minute; let me get someone to handle the door.” She walked away to tap a young man on the shoulder. She whispered against his cheek and shoved the pamphlets into his hands.
She came back to me, hands smoothing along the burgundy dress she wore. “If you’ll follow me?”
She made it a question. What would she do if I said no? Probably look puzzled. The young man was greeting a couple that had just entered the church. The man wore a suit; the woman the proverbial dress, hose, and sandals. They could have been coming to my church, any church. As I followed the woman down the side aisle towards the door, I glanced at a couple dressed in postmodern punk. Or whatever phrase is common now. The girl’s hair looked like Frankenstein’s Bride done in pink and green. A second glance and I wasn’t sure; maybe the pink and green was a guy. If so, his girlfriend’s hair was a buzz so close to her head, it looked like stubble.
The Church of Eternal Life attracted a wide following. Diversity, that’s the ticket. They appealed to the agnostic, the atheist, the disillusioned mainstreamer, and some who had never decided what they were. The church was nearly full, and it wasn’t dark yet. The vampires had yet to show. It had been a long time since I’d seen a church this full, except at Easter, or Christmas. Holiday Christians. A chill tiptoed along my spine.
This was the fullest church I’d been to in years. The vampire church. Maybe the real danger wasn’t the murderer. Maybe the real danger was right here in this building.
I shook my head and followed my guide through the door, out of the church, and past the coffee klatch area. There really was coffee percolating on a white-draped table. There was also a bowl of reddish punch that looked a little too viscous to be punch at all.
The woman said, “Would you like some coffee?”
“No, thank you.”
She smiled pleasantly and opened the door marked “Office” for me. I went in. No one was there.
“Malcolm will be with you as soon as he wakens. If you like, I can wait with you.” She glanced at the door as she said it.
“I wouldn’t want you to miss the service. I’ll be fine alone.”
Her smile flashed into dimple again. “Thank you; I’m sure it will be a short wait.” With that she was gone, and I was alone. Alone with the secretary’s desk and the leatherbound day planner for the Church of Eternal Life. Life was good.
I opened the planner to the week before the first vampire murder. Bruce, the secretary, had very neat handwriting,