Jane Bites Back

Jane, not understanding, said, “I didn’t get my hair cut.”

“It sure looks like it,” Lucy replied.

Then Jane remembered the wig. She’d forgotten to remove it. “Oh, that,” she said. “Right. I was just trying it out. What do you think? You know what they say about blondes having more fun.”

Lucy looked at the wig, biting her lip. “Honestly?” she said. “It makes you look like a soccer mom.”

“I think you’re right,” Jane said as she opened the door and went inside. “It was a bad idea.” She set the deli bag on the counter and pulled the wig off. Her real hair was a rat’s nest, but she could deal with it easily enough.

Lucy opened the bag and took out a bagel. As she unwrapped it she said, “Is everything okay?”

“Of course,” Jane said. “Why?”

Lucy shrugged. “You just seem a little bit… I don’t know. Edgy,” she said. “You’ve never called me at home before. Not in the morning, anyway. And the wig. That’s not you at all.”

Jane busied herself with removing her coat and fixing her hair. She wasn’t sure how to respond to Lucy’s question. She couldn’t exactly tell her that she’d spent the night with Lord Byron in order to save Lucy from joining the ranks of the living dead, then seduced a priest in order to drink a bit of his blood. But she had to say something. For all she knew, Byron was watching them as he’d watched her and Walter the night before.

“You’re right,” she said. “Everything isn’t okay.”

Lucy chewed the bite of bagel that was in her mouth and swallowed. “So what is it?” she said. “Problems with Walter? The store isn’t doing well? Did I do something wrong?”

“No,” Jane said quickly. “No. You haven’t done anything. And Walter and the store are both fine. It’s something else entirely.”

“Is your Aunt Flo visiting?” asked Lucy, sounding sympathetic.

“I don’t have an Aunt—” Jane began, then realized that Lucy was using her favorite euphemism for getting her period. “No,” she said. “There are no houseguests at the moment.”

“Well, I’m all out of guesses,” Lucy told her. “Oh, unless you’re pregnant. I forgot about that one.”

“I am most definitely not pregnant,” said Jane.

Lucy wadded up the wrapper from her bagel. “Then I give up,” she said.

Jane started to say something, paused, then looked Lucy in the eye and said, “Brian George is a vampire. And as it happens, so am I. He’s threatened to harm you and Walter if I don’t run away with him, and frankly, I don’t know what to do about it. Oh, and he paid you a visit the other night and bit your neck. It wasn’t spiders.”

She and Lucy stood staring at each other for what seemed an eternity. Now that she’d actually told the truth, Jane felt much better. Of course Lucy was going to think she was mad, but there was nothing she could do about that. Unless you tell her you’re playing a joke, she reminded herself.

She was actually on the verge of saying just that, if only to break the quiet, when Lucy said, “That still doesn’t explain the wig.”

“The wig,” Jane said. “Right. Well—”

“It’s okay,” said Lucy, interrupting. “I don’t need to know. Anyway, I already knew about the vampire thing.”

Jane wasn’t sure she’d heard correctly. “What? You knew? But how?”

“Brian told me,” Lucy replied. “Yesterday. Well, actually, last night. He took me to dinner.”

“And he told you that he and I are vampires?” said Jane.

Lucy nodded. “He didn’t mention coming into my room the other night, though. I’m a little pissed about that.”

“Wait,” Jane said, holding her hands up. “You believe him?”

“You just said yourself—” Lucy began.

“I know what I said,” Jane broke in. “That’s not the point. The point is that you don’t seem at all upset about any of this.”

“I wouldn’t say that,” said Lucy. “There’s that whole breaking-into-my-room thing.”

“Let’s set that aside for a moment, shall we?” Jane said. “Let’s start with the part where you actually believe that he and I are vampires. Vampires,” she repeated. “As in the undead. Drinking blood. All of that unpleasantness.”

“I have a general idea of what it means,” said Lucy.

“Yes, but you’re telling me that you actually believe that they—we—exist,” Jane said.

“Why not?” said Lucy. “A whole bunch of people believe that some invisible dude in the sky created the world. My Uncle Todd believes he was abducted by aliens and has a tracking device implanted in his head. Besides, they’re always finding new stuff we’ve never seen before. Last week some scientist in the Amazon discovered a frog that kills its prey using sound. If you ask me, that’s way weirder than vampires.”

“You’re being awfully rational about this,” Jane said. “You’re not at all afraid of what it means?”

“Maybe a little,” Lucy admitted. “But it’s kind of romantic too, you know. Like Vivienne Minx.” As soon as she’d said the words she clapped her hand to her mouth.

“You read Posey Frost!” Jane exclaimed.

“Just the first one!” Lucy said. “I swear. Okay, maybe the first two. Or three. But that’s it. I couldn’t help myself.”

Jane shook her head. “How could you?” she asked.

“Me?” said Lucy. “Who’s the one who forgot to mention something about being a vampire?”

“You’re right,” Jane said. “You’re right. I apologize.”

“Besides, they’re not that bad,” Lucy added. “I mean, I’m sure there’s stuff she gets wrong, but I wouldn’t be able to tell.” She hesitated a moment, then asked, “So, are werewolves real too?”

“We’ll talk more about that later,” said Jane. “The important thing is that you need to stay away from Brian.” She didn’t know if Byron had revealed his true identity to Lucy. More important, she didn’t know if he had revealed her identity to her assistant. She suspected not, as Lucy would hardly be able to keep quiet about it.

“It’s okay,” Lucy said. “We’re good. All I had to do was say I’d let him make me a vampire.”

“What?” Jane practically yelled the words. “You agreed to let him do what?”

“Make me a vampire,” Lucy repeated. “He said it was no big deal.”

“Oh, I’m so going to kill him,” said Jane. “First he lied to me to get me to let him stay over last night, and now you’re telling me he’s talked you into letting him turn you?”

“He stayed at your place last night?” Lucy asked. She sounded hurt. “He told me he had to work on his novel.”

“I’m not surprised,” said Jane. “Lesson one—don’t trust vampires. Male ones, anyway. Especially that one.”

Lucy’s eyes were beginning to tear up. Jane went to her and hugged her close. “Oh, sweetie,” she said. “Don’t let him hurt you. He’s not worth it. Believe me.”

“But he said such nice things,” said Lucy. “He quoted poetry.”

Jane rolled her eyes. “Yes, he’s very good at that,” she told Lucy.

“What are we going to do?” Lucy asked, sniffling.

“I don’t know yet,” Jane answered. “But whatever it is, he’s going to wish he’d never been dead.”

Chapter 17

Seeing Jonathan talking to young Minerva Jones-Lipton, Constance felt herself inclined to rush to the girl and snatch her out of harm’s way. As the girl prattled on, Jonathan regarded her intently, his dark eyes sparkling. It called to mind a hawk watching an oblivious field mouse, waiting for the perfect moment to swoop down and snatch