“I’ll get some maps from the study,” he said slowly. “Try sensing anywhere near the manor first, and then Cardiff International Airport, and if you can’t find her, go back to America and try Portland, Oregon.”
Relief passed across Mary’s face as she realized he wasn’t going to banish her. “I’ll find her.”
chapter 3
By two nights later, several things had happened in Eleisha’s world.
First, through Rose’s address being absorbed into her consciousness, Eleisha had named their new home, and she spoke the name so often that Wade was also referring to the church as “the underground.” He joked it was rather like Tara from Gone With the Wind. But Eleisha compared it more to terms like “head-quarters,” in old spy movies.
Second, the deacons had gladly accepted her offer on the property. She’d waived the right to the sale being complete pending an inspection, and a bank appraisal wasn’t necessary because she planned on buying the place with cash.
Now, she just needed to sell some stock and have the money available.
Unfortunately, her broker was on vacation in Costa Rica and wouldn’t be back in the States for six days. But the closing date to sign paperwork wasn’t set for three weeks, so aside from feeling in limbo, she wasn’t concerned.
She’d written a long letter to Rose, telling her everything about the underground, including the wrought-iron fence and night-blooming roses, how the place felt like home . . . how it had been abandoned and seemed to need someone. She could tell Rose things she could never tell Philip or Wade. Now, she would simply have to wait for a response before knowing the next step. Eleisha understood Rose’s caution—as Rose didn’t know if she could trust them either.
Last night, Eleisha had taken a taxi east to set up orders at several furniture stores, while Wade and Philip had taken the public Streetcar downtown to pick out a new television and DVD player. They’d brought a DVD player home, but the flat-screen TV that Philip wanted was temporarily out of stock, and they would have to wait a few days for delivery.
So now, with little else to do, Wade and Eleisha had set to work cleaning the inside of the church. Wade might be terrible at making decisions, but once a decision was made, he threw himself in with both feet. At the moment, he was busy scrubbing the upstairs windowsills.
Philip had discovered a hardwood floor beneath the outdated carpet in the sanctuary, and so he was ripping up the carpet.
Eleisha was trying to get the sitting room in the downstairs apartment ready for a delivery of furniture from Crate and Barrel. Scrubbing and sweeping, she felt almost like a housewife, dressed in a pair of Wade’s old sweatpants and a flannel shirt, with her hair in a knot on top of her head. She found the idea humorous. Her. A housewife. How long since she’d set up a house?
Had it been 1912?
Yes, that was the last time . . . really, the only time.
When she’d landed in New York in 1839, so lost and confused, another vampire, Edward Claymore, had taken her and William under his wing. Edward had protected her and trained her to hunt. But he’d never felt a need for a “home” and always kept them living in lavish New York hotels. In the end, Eleisha had struck out on her own, come here to Portland, and bought a house for herself and William. Yes, that was the last time she had set up a home.
It felt good to be doing so again.
She finished wiping the last cobweb from a corner. The room was clean. What now?
She decided to go upstairs to see how Philip was progressing. Emerging from the door behind the altar into the sanctuary, she found him sitting on the floor in a pile of moldy carpet remnants, gazing at nothing.
Most uncharacteristic.
Dust floated in the air. Soft illumination from the streetlights outside filtered through the stained-glass windows, glowing in greens and yellows off the side of his face.
“Are you okay?” she asked.
He looked up at her. When he spoke, his accent sounded thick and he started mixing English with French. “I want to talk. Sérieusement.”
He wanted to talk seriously? She tensed, hoping they were not going to have another showdown over Rose. She was definitely not feeling up to a fight with Philip.
“What?” she asked cautiously.
He stood, went over to the altar, and picked up a manila folder. “Come and look.”