Jane Vows Vengeance

bite. At the moment she was grinding her teeth, trying to keep her fangs locked in place.

“Good morning.”

Jane turned her head. “Oh, good grief,” she said. “What are you doing here?”

Joshua, dressed in the same dark suit he’d been wearing the previous day, sat down in the seat across from Jane and Walter. Jane glanced anxiously at Walter, afraid he would wake up.

“Don’t worry about him,” Joshua said, scratching idly at his beard. “If he wakes up, I’ll glamor him and he’ll think it was all a dream.”

“Why do you have to glamor him?” Jane asked. “What makes you think I can’t do it?”

Joshua ignored her, which was annoying. Byron does the same thing, she thought. They really are very much alike. “I did some asking around about Crispin’s Needle,” he said.

“And?”

“Nobody’s entirely sure it exists,” said Joshua. “Some vampires think it’s a legend. Others think it exists but that it doesn’t really work. And some believe in it.”

“That isn’t terribly helpful,” Jane remarked.

“No,” Joshua agreed. “It isn’t. However, I did find out one useful piece of information. Have you heard of the Tedious Three?”

Jane shook her head. The movement jostled Walter, who opened his eyes and yawned. “Are we there?”

Joshua placed his hand in front of Walter’s eyes. “Back to sleep,” he said, and Walter’s head fell against Jane’s neck.

“How did you do that?” she asked.

“You mean you can’t?” Joshua said, lifting an eyebrow. “Interesting. So, have you heard of the Tedious Three?”

“No,” Jane snapped. One more vampire trick I don’t know about, she thought, irritated.

“Librarians,” Joshua explained. “Names of Zenodotus, Callimachus, and Eratosthenes. Each was at one time a librarian at the Library of Alexandria. Since being turned they’ve dedicated their lives to recording the history of the vampires.”

“How interesting,” Jane said.

“You’d think so,” said Joshua. “But they manage to make it boring. Nobody can stand them. For one thing, they’re forever correcting your grammar.”

“One’s grammar,” Jane said under her breath.

“If anyone knows about Crispin’s Needle, it’s them.”

“They,” said Jane. “I mean, where do we find them?”

“That’s the tricky bit,” Joshua replied. “They’re so annoying that no one wants to spend time with them. Nobody I spoke to can remember where they live.”

“Why is everything so difficult?” said Jane. “What good is having vampire librarians if you can’t ask them anything?”

“That’s where you’re lucky,” Joshua said. “Their last known whereabouts happen to be in Warwickshire. If you can find someone there who knew them then—”

“And just how am I supposed to do that?” Jane interrupted. “Is there a vampire directory? Can I just stop in at the visitors’ center and ask them to point me to the nearest vampire?”

“You’re in a foul mood this morning,” Joshua said.

“And whose fault is that?” said Jane. “If you hadn’t shown up, I would be married right now and very, very happy. By the way, how did you know I was getting married anyway?”

“Word gets around,” Joshua said. “But let’s focus on the task at hand. You need to find a vampire.”

“You’ll help me, of course,” said Jane.

Joshua shook his head. “I’m heading straight back to the city,” he said. “I’m having lunch with my publisher.”

“Your publisher?” Jane said. “You mean someone is actually publishing your poems?”

“I’ll have you know I’m quite popular with the undead,” Joshua said proudly.

“We have our own publisher?” Jane said. “You mean I didn’t have to wait almost two hundred years to be published again?”

Joshua looked sheepish. “Actually, he doesn’t much care for your work,” he said. “He finds it all a bit twee.”

Jane, incensed, started to reply, but just then Chumsley passed through the car. “We’ll be arriving in five minutes,” he called out. “Warwick station in five minutes.”

“Just find a vampire,” Joshua told Jane as he got up. “It won’t be difficult.”

“You don’t know me very well,” said Jane.

“If you’re meant to find Crispin’s Needle, you’ll find the way,” Joshua said. “Now farewell, my sweet. Until we meet again.”

Jane exhaled loudly. “Stupid Romantic poets,” she muttered. “Always blathering on about fate and destiny. Moony dreamers, the lot of them.”

“What?” said Walter, who had woken up and was stretching.

“I said we’re here,” Jane replied.

As the train came to a stop they gathered up their things and walked to the door. Most of the others were already there, all looking less than awake. Jane realized that Joshua had probably glamored the entire car to make sure no one remembered seeing him. Perhaps he’s not as stupid as I think he is, she mused.

As they exited the train they were herded toward a small bus into which their luggage was also being loaded. Chumsley, after three or four pints the night before, had offered to allow Miriam, Lucy, and Ben to travel with the rest of the group whenever there was room, thereby saving them a great deal of trouble, not to mention taxi fares. Now they all piled into the bus and took their seats. Jane couldn’t help but notice that Enid’s guests—and Miriam— all sat on one side, while Chumsley’s sat on the other.

The first destination being of Chumsley’s choosing, he was in charge, and as the bus made its way toward the hamlet of Cripple Minton he briefed them on the site.

“We’re going to be touring Pitstone Vicarage,” he said. “As the name suggests, it was once home to the presiding vicar of the neighboring church, which is also owned by the family and no longer used for services. However, the church is of little interest to us. It’s the vicarage we’ve come to see. It is, I do not hesitate to say, one of the hidden gems of British architecture.”

Lucy, who was sitting behind Jane, leaned forward. “Can we go look at the church anyway?” she asked. “I don’t think I can stand a tour this early in the morning.”

“I agree,” Jane said. “Besides, I suspect they don’t really want us tagging along.”

She conferred with Walter, who seemed a little disappointed that she didn’t want to see the vicarage but didn’t try to get her to change her mind, which Jane interpreted as his way of agreeing that it would probably not interest her very much. She was equally relieved when, as the bus arrived in Cripple Minton and pulled to the side of the narrow road on which Pitstone Vicarage was situated, Miriam announced that she and Lilith would be staying with the group. This left Jane, Lucy, and Ben free to investigate the church.

As Chumsley had noted, the church was not particularly distinctive, although it was charming in the way that all English churches of a certain age are. The stones out of which the walls were built were cunningly composed so that no other supports were needed. The wooden pews glowed with a soft shine created by the behinds of the faithful polishing them year upon year. And the stained glass that filled the windows glowed faintly in the winter morning light.

Jane went to the nearest window and looked more closely. The scene depicted showed a group of three women being menaced by two men. Two of the women knelt on the ground, their hands lifted to heaven. The third woman stood defiant, pointing an accusing finger at the men. A small plaque beneath the window read: ST. APOLLONIA THE BLESSED REFUSES TO RENOUNCE HER FAITH.

The next window was most unusual. The woman Jane now knew to be St. Apollonia had her arms held