Bev stared down at the can, which she held with one hand cupped underneath so it wouldn't stain her skirt. "I do not know positively that it is true, but I believe it to be."
"Tell me what you've heard?" I asked.
"There was talk for a while of forming a squad to hunt the vampires. To kill them as they have killed our...families. The president of course vetoed the idea. We work within the system. We are not vigilantes." She said it almost as a question, as if trying to convince herself more than us. She was shaken by what might have happened. Her neat little world collapsing again.
"But lately I have heard talk. People in our organization bragging of slaying vampires."
"How were they supposedly killed?" I asked.
She looked at me, hesitated. "I do not know."
"No hint?"
She shook her head. "I believe I could find out for you. Is it important?"
"The police have hidden certain details from the general public. Things only the murderer would know."
"I see." She glanced down at the can in her hands, then up at me. "I do not believe it is murder even if my people have done what the papers say. Killing dangerous animals should not be a crime."
In part I agreed with her. Once I had agreed with her wholeheartedly. "Then why tell us?" I asked.
She looked directly at me, dark, nearly black eyes staring into my face. "I owe you."
"You saved my life as well. You owe me nothing."
"There will always be a debt between us, always."
I looked into her face and understood. Bev had begged me not to tell anyone that she had beaten the vampire's head in. I think it horrified her that she was capable of such violence, regardless of motive.
I had told the police that she distracted the vampire so I could kill it. She had been disproportionately grateful for that small white lie. Maybe if no one else knew, she could pretend it had never happened. Maybe.
She stood, smoothing her skirt down in back. She sat her soda can carefully on the edge of the desk. "I will leave a message with Ms. Sims when I find out more."
I nodded. "I appreciate what you're doing." She might be betraying her cause for me.
She laid her purple jacket over her arm, small purse clasped in her hands. "Violence is not the answer. We must work within the system. Humans Against Vampires stands for law and order, not vigilantism." It sounded like a prerecorded speech. But I let it go. Everyone needs something to believe in.
She shook hands with both of us. Her hand was cool and dry. She left, slender shoulders very straight. The door closed firmly but quietly behind her. To look at her you would never know that she had been touched by extreme violence. Maybe that's the way she wanted it. Who was I to argue?
Ronnie said, "Okay, now you fill me in. What have you found out?"
"How do you know I've found out anything?" I asked.
"Because you looked a little green around the gills when you came through the door."
"Great. And I thought I was hiding it."
She patted my arm. "Don't worry. I just know you too well, that's all."
I nodded, taking the explanation for what it was, comforting crap. But I took it anyway. I told her about Theresa's death. I told her everything, except the dreams with Jean-Claude in them. That was private.
She let out a low whistle. "Damn, you have been busy. Do you think a human death squad is doing it?"
"You mean HAV?"
She nodded.
I took a deep breath and let it out. "I don't know. If it's humans, I don't have the faintest idea how they're doing it. It would take superhuman strength to rip a head off."
"A very strong human?" she asked.
The image of Winter's bulging arms flashed into my mind. "Maybe, but that kind of strength. . ."
"Under pressure, little old grannies have lifted entire cars."
She had a point. "How would you like to visit the Church of Eternal Life?" I asked.
"Thinking about joining up?"
I frowned at her.
She laughed. "Okay, okay, stop glowering at me. Why are we going?"
"Last night they raided the party with clubs. I'm not saying they meant to kill anyone, but when you start beating on people" - I shrugged - "accidents happen."
"You think the Church is behind it?"
"Don't know, but if they hate the freaks enough to storm their parties, maybe they hate them enough to kill them."
"Most of the Church's members are vampires," she said.
"Exactly. Superhuman strength and the ability to get close to the victims."
Ronnie smiled. "Not bad, Blake, not bad."
I bowed my head modestly. "Now all we got to do is prove it."
Her eyes were still shiny with humor when she said, "Unless of course they didn't do it."
"Oh, shut up. It's a place to start."
She spread her hands wide. "Hey, I'm not complaining. My father always told me, 'Never criticize, unless you can do a better job.' "
"You don't know what's going on either, huh?" I asked.
Her face sobered. "Wish I did."
So did I.
Chapter 34
The Church of Eternal Life, main building, is just off Page Avenue, far from the District. The Church doesn't like to be associated with the riffraff. Vampire strip club, Circus of the Damned, tsk-tsk. How shocking. No, they think of themselves as mainstream undead.
The church itself is set in an expanse of na**d ground. Small trees struggled to grow into big trees and shade the startling white of the church. It seemed to glow in the hot July sunshine, like a land-bound moon.
I pulled into the parking lot and parked on the shiny new black asphalt. Only the ground looked normal, bare reddish earth churned to mud. The grass had never had a chance.
"Pretty," Ronnie said. She nodded in the building's direction.
I shrugged. "If you say so. Frankly, I never get used to the generic effect."
"Generic effect?" she asked.
"The stained glass is all abstract color. No scenes of Christ, no saints, no holy symbols. Clean and pure as a wedding gown fresh out of plastic."
She got out of the car, sunglasses sliding into place. She stared at the church, arms crossed over her stomach. "It looks like they just unwrapped it and haven't put the trimmings on yet."
"Yeah, a church without God. What is wrong with this picture?"
She didn't laugh. "Will anybody be up this time of day?"
"Oh, yes, they recruit during the day."
"Recruit?"
"You know, go door to door, like the Mormons and the Jehovah's Witnesses."
She stared at me. "You've got to be kidding?"
"Do I look like I'm kidding?"
She shook her head. "Door-to-door vampires. How" - she wiggled her hands back and forth - "convenient."
"Yep," I said. "Let's go see who's minding the office."
Broad white steps led up to huge double doors. One of the doors was open; the other had a sign that read, "Enter Friend and be at Peace." I fought an urge to tear down the sign and stomp on it.
They were preying on one of the most basic fears of man - death. Everyone fears death. People who don't believe in God have a hard time with death being it. Die and you cease to exist. Poof. But at the Church of Eternal Life, they promise just what the name says. And they can prove it. No leap of faith. No waiting around. No questions left unanswered. How does it feel to be dead? Just ask a fellow church member.
Oh, and you'll never grow old either. No face-lifts, no tummy tucks, just eternal youth. Not a bad deal, as long as you don't believe in the soul.
As long as you don't believe the soul becomes trapped in the vampire's body and can never reach Heaven. Or worse yet, that vampires are inherently evil and you are condemned to Hell. The Catholic Church sees voluntary vampirism as a kind of suicide. I tend to agree. Though the Pope also excommunicated all animators, unless we ceased raising the dead. Fine; I became Episcopalian.
Polished wooden pews ran in two wide rows up towards what would have been an altar. There was a pulpit, but I couldn't call it an altar. It was just a blank blue wall surrounded by more white upsweeping walls.
The windows were red and blue stained glass. The sunlight sparkled through them, making delicate colored patterns on the white floor.
"Peaceful," Ronnie said.
"So are graveyards."