If I killed Andre, the only person who would suffer was me. Sooner or later, Marsilia would figure out who had killed him even if Wulfe didn't tell her-and I trusted Wulfe about as far as I could throw him. When she knew, she would have me killed. I could only trust she wouldn't be stupid enough to do it in such a way that Samuel or Adam would get involved: she wouldn't want a war either, not with the seethe poised for rebellion.
Was it worth my life to kill Andre?
Deliberately I recalled the maid's face and the sound of her hoarse cries as Littleton killed her slowly in front of me. I remembered the shattered expression that Adam had tried to hide behind anger in the bright lights of the hospital, and the long days following that night before Samuel had strung two words together. Then there was Daniel, broken and starving, at Stefan's trial. Andre had sacrificed him twice, once for revenge and a second time to see how powerful his monster was.
I went to my gun safe and pulled out both of my handguns, the 9mm SIG Sauer and the. 44 Smith & Wesson. I had to put a linen jacket on over my T-shirt so I could wear the SIG in its shoulder harness. The. 44 would have to ride in the backpack with the rest of the vampire-hunting treasures. I was pretty sure the guns wouldn't do me any good against Andre, but they'd take out any of his human sheep-though if Wulfe's menagerie was anything to judge by, I might not have to worry about Andre's blood donors.
I hoped they'd stay out of the way. The thought of killing more people made me sick, especially as Andre's menagerie wasn't guilty of anything except being victims.
Even with the guns, when I got in the Rabbit, I wasn't entirely certain I was going to go after Andre. Impulsively I turned down Adam's street and drove to his house.
Jesse opened the door. "Mercy? Dad's not back from work yet."
"Good," I told her. "I need to see Ben."
She stepped away from the door, inviting me in. "He's still confined," she told me. "Whenever Dad isn't around to stop him, he goes after the nearest wolf."
I followed her down the stairs. Ben was curled up as far from the doorway as he could get with his back to us.
"Ben?" I asked.
His ear twitched and he flattened a little against the floor. I sat down on the floor in front of the bars and put my forehead against the door.
"Are you all right?" Jesse asked.
Ben's misery smelled sour, almost like an illness.
"I'm fine," I told her. "Would you leave us for just a few minutes?"
"Sure thing. I was in the middle of a show anyway." She gave me a quick grin. "I'm watching An American Werewolf in London."
I waited until she was gone and then whispered, so none of the other werewolves I could smell in the house would overhear. "I found Andre," I told him. I wasn't certain how far he'd sunk into the wolf, but at the mention of the vampire's name, he came to his feet, growling.
"No, you can't come with me," I told him. "If Marsilia thinks one of the werewolves is involved in Andre's death, there will be retaliation. I came here... I guess because I'm afraid. I don't know how I can kill Andre while he sleeps and still be me afterwards."
Ben took two slow steps toward me. I reached up and touched the cage with the tips of my fingers. "It doesn't matter. It has to be done and I'm the best one to do it."
Abruptly impatient with myself, I stood up. "Don't let them win, Ben. Don't let them destroy you, too."
He whined, but I didn't stay to talk anymore. I had a vampire to kill.
The weatherman had been predicting a break in the weather for three days, and when I left Adam's house the dark clouds that had been moving in all day had thickened impressively. Hot wind snatched my hair and whipped it across my face.
When I got in my car, I was careful to hold onto the door so the wind couldn't fling it into the shiny new Toyota I'd parked next to.
It still hadn't started to rain when I drove the Rabbit onto the gravel drive that stopped at Andre's house, parking in front of the motor home- sized, garage door side of the pole barn. There were neighboring houses, but they were closer to the highway than Andre's house and the pole barn, along with strategically planted foliage, protected his privacy.
Anyone passing by would be able to see my car, but I wasn't really worried about the neighbors. I'd destroy Andre's body, and the vampires would never allow the human police to find anyone else's remains-including mine.
The grass was knee high and crunched as I walked across it. No one had watered the lawn for a month or more. There were flowers planted around the edge of the house, long dead. I suppose Andre didn't care about how nice his place looked by daylight.
I shouldered my backpack and walked around the pole barn to knock on the door. No one answered and the door was locked tight. I walked around the house and found a patio door on the other side. It was locked, too, but suitable application of a paving stone solved that nicely.
No one came to investigate the sound of breaking glass.
The dining room I walked into was spotlessly clean and reeked of Pine-Sol, the smell making me sneeze as well as disguising any other scent that might be present.
Like the house, the room was small but pretty. The floor was oak, antiqued with a white wash that made the room feel bigger than it was. On one side of the room was a brick fireplace. Family photographs covered most of the surface of the mantelpiece. Curious, I looked at them. Children and grandchildren, I thought, and none of them related to Andre. How long would it be before one of them realized they hadn't heard from their grandparents for too long? How long had he been here to leave so many ghosts?
Maybe the owners of the house were off touring the countryside in the motor home that the pole barn had been built to house. I hoped so.
I started to turn away and something knocked one of the photos off the mantle. Glass shattered on the floor and a chill breeze touched my face.
I left the dining room and walked into the kitchen, which was surprisingly big for the size of the house. Someone had painted the wooden cabinets white, then toll-painted flowers and vines all over. The window over the sink was covered with dark green garbage sacks sealed with duct tape so no light would get through.
There were no vampires in the living room either, though it wasn't as clean as the dining room and kitchen had been. Someone had left a dirty glass on an end table-and there were dark stains on the beige carpet. Blood, I thought, but the Pine-Sol was still crippling my nose.
The bathroom door was open, but the two doors next to it were not. I didn't think Andre was behind either of them, because someone had put shiny new bolts on the outside to keep whoever was inside prisoner.