Jane Goes Batty

Miriam snorted. “Talking to a rabbi,” she said. “It takes more than that to be a Jew. Being a Jew comes from here.” She tapped her chest over her heart.

“Ms. Ellenberg,” Jane said, “I care very much for your son, as I see you do as well. I would like us to be friends. However—”

“Don’t however me,” Miriam said. “And let me make one thing perfectly clear. You will never marry my son.”

Jane stiffened. “And why is that?” she asked, trying to keep her tone civil.

Miriam leaned closer, until Jane thought she might jump off the couch and leap into her lap. “Because,” said Walter’s mother, “I know what you are.”

Chapter 7

“I don’t know what she meant,” Jane told Lucy.

They were in the living room of Lucy’s apartment. Jane had gone there after excusing herself from the evening with Walter’s mother as early as she could without appearing rude. It had been a tense couple of hours, although Walter hadn’t seemed to notice that anything was wrong. Even Miriam had behaved perfectly normally, complimenting Walter on the roast chicken and asking Jane the usual sorts of questions two people ask upon meeting for the first time.

“Maybe I imagined it,” Jane suggested.

“Why didn’t you just ask her?” said Lucy, handing Jane a glass of merlot.

“I was startled,” said Jane. “And Walter came in just at that moment. I could hardly say anything with him there.”

Lucy sat down on the couch. “It’s the sort of thing you say to someone you think is a gold digger,” she said.

“Precisely,” said Jane. “But Walter hasn’t any money to speak of, and at any rate I have more than enough of my own. I certainly don’t need his.”

“My guess is that she’s just trying to put a scare into you,” said Lucy, sipping her wine. “You know what you should do?”

Jane shook her head.

“Bite her,” Lucy said.

“I’m tempted,” Jane said. “What a horrible woman.”

“I’m serious,” said Lucy. “Didn’t you tell me that feeding on people can make them more susceptible to your charms?”

“Well, yes,” Jane replied. “In a manner of speaking. But I wouldn’t feel right feeding on Walter’s mother. I think that crosses some sort of line.”

“What about glamoring her?” Lucy asked.

Jane shook her head. “Glamors are temporary. I’d have to keep doing it, and that would be exhausting. Besides, truth be told, I’m not terribly good at it. I mean, I can get by, but something like that would take more power than I’ve developed.”

“Maybe you should sic Byron on her,” Lucy suggested. “I imagine he could glamor anyone.”

“I’m not so sure of that,” said Jane. “He’s not done very well with Ned.”

“Ted,” said Lucy.

“That’s what I meant,” Jane said. “With Ted.”

“No, he hasn’t,” said Lucy.

Something in Lucy’s voice caught Jane’s attention. “You know why, don’t you?” she said.

Lucy shifted uncomfortably. “No,” she said defensively. “Why would I know anything?”

“You do!” Jane insisted. “Out with it.”

Lucy sighed. “All right,” she said. “But you can’t say anything to Byron. It will hurt his feelings.”

“You’re assuming he has any,” Jane said.

“Be nice,” Lucy told her. “I think he’s behaved rather well, all things considered. He hasn’t hit on me once since our battle with Our Gloomy Friend.”

“Anyway,” said Jane, waving her hand dismissively. “What do you know?”

“Well,” Lucy said. “Apparently Ted isn’t at all attracted to Byron. He thinks he’s too old.”

“He is old,” said Jane. “He’s two hundred and twenty-three.”

“I mean too old for Ted,” Lucy said. “How old was he when he died? I mean when he turned?”

“Thirty-six, I think,” said Jane.

“Is that all?” Lucy said. “I would have guessed early forties.”

“Eternal life isn’t as easy as it might seem,” Jane remarked.

“Ted is only twenty-two,” said Lucy. “Those fourteen years make a big difference.”

“Not after a century or so,” Jane replied. “He’d catch up.” She drank some more wine. “Besides, the way he acts most of the time, Byron might as well be twenty-two.”

“You sound as if you want Ted to be turned,” said Lucy.

“I suppose I do,” Jane admitted. “Not for Byron’s sake. He’d tire of the boy within a month after he got what he wanted. I’m thinking about the other one. Ned.”

“What about him?” asked Lucy, tucking her feet under her and leaning against the back of the couch.

“I hate to see him lose his brother,” Jane explained. “I know what that’s like.”

“But didn’t you once tell me that you wouldn’t have turned Cassie even if she’d asked you to?” said Lucy.

Jane nodded. “I did feel that way,” she said. She hesitated. “I don’t know that I do now.”

“What if I wanted you to turn me?” Lucy asked.

Jane looked at her friend. “I’ve never turned anyone,” she said.

“That’s not what I asked you,” said Lucy.

“I know what you asked,” Jane snapped.

Lucy looked stung. Jane got up, went to the couch, and sat beside her. She took Lucy’s hand. “I’m sorry,” she said. “I didn’t mean to sound so angry.”

“It’s all right,” Lucy told her. “I shouldn’t have asked.”

“No,” Jane said. “You have every right to ask. You’re my best friend. I suppose that’s why I reacted as I did.”

“I don’t understand,” said Lucy.

Jane continued to hold Lucy’s hand as she spoke. “I’ve had many friends over the past two centuries,” she said. “Many of them I liked very much, and I was sad to lose them. But the only person I’ve missed every single day is Cassie. She’s the only one I’ve ever even thought about wishing I’d turned.”

Jane stopped speaking and looked down at the floor. She felt she was going to cry, and she didn’t want to. Only when she thought she could continue without weeping did she speak again.

“Then you came into my life,” she told Lucy. “And you’ve given me back a part of my sister. When I think that someday I might lose you too …”

Her voice trailed off as the tears began to flow. Lucy sat up and hugged her, holding Jane tight. “It’s all right,” she said softly.

“I don’t know what I would do if you asked me,” Jane whispered. “I don’t know that I would be able to refuse. And that frightens me.”

They held each other for a long moment and then let go. Lucy too was now crying. She got up and went into the kitchen, returning with a box of tissues. She held the box out to Jane, who took two tissues and blotted her eyes.

“I won’t say I haven’t thought about it,” Lucy said as she sat down. “But I promise not to put you in that position. Besides, I’m sure Byron would do it if I asked.”

Jane looked at her, horrified. Then Lucy smiled. “Joking,” she said.