Walter returned to the parlor, and a moment later Miriam came out. Lilith was at her heels and immediately began sniffing the steps and growling.

“Quiet,” Miriam said to the dog. “You know this one.” She looked at Beverly. “Why are you standing out there?”

“He didn’t invite me in,” Beverly replied. “You know I can’t enter unless—”

“Of course,” said Miriam. “I’d forgotten that your abilities are diminished.”

Beverly smiled nervously. “It’s part of the arrangement,” she said.

“I am aware of the arrangement,” said Miriam. “Not that I approve of it.”

Beverly glanced down at Lilith, who had not turned her attention away from the stairs. “She seems to have found something,” she remarked.

Miriam looked back at the dog. “It’s probably the stench of that woman,” she said. “She did spend a great deal of time here. The scent lingers.”

Beverly, ignoring the insult, said, “I just came by to ask what you would like done with Tavish Osborn.”

“Nothing at present,” said Miriam. “Are you still in his favor?”

Beverly nodded. “He suspects nothing,” she said. “He’s so vain, I don’t think he notices anyone but himself anyway.”

Jane felt Byron stiffen beside her. She felt for his hand and held it tightly, afraid he might bolt down the stairs and throttle the Shrop woman. Not that it would be a bad thing, she thought. Who was Beverly Shrop, and how had she come to be acquainted with Walter’s mother? Equally important, who was Walter’s mother? Nothing was making any sense.

“He may still be useful to us,” Miriam said. “He can’t be allowed to go on, of course, but none of their kind can.”

Beverly looked as if she’d been struck, but said nothing.

“I’m sorry, my dear,” Miriam said with a tone of false apology. “I wasn’t referring to you.”

Beverly nodded. “I should be going,” she said. “Give my regards to your son.”

Miriam said nothing, shutting the door and turning to go back to the parlor. She noticed Lilith still pawing at the steps, and picked the dog up. Lilith’s ears perked up and she barked loudly, her nose sniffing the air.

“Calm down,” Miriam said. “You’re just excited from sniffing out the Fairfax woman this morning. I only wish I could have gone with you to see what exactly she was up to.”

Miriam disappeared, still talking to Lilith. Byron tugged at Jane’s hand and the two of them descended the stairs. This time no one interrupted their exit from the house, and minutes later they were sitting in Byron’s car, which they had parked one street over to lessen the chance of Walter or someone else who might recognize it seeing it. Both Jane and Byron had rematerialized, and they looked at each other with a mixture of relief and puzzlement.

“Correct me if I’m wrong,” Jane said carefully. “But from that conversation I gather that Walter’s mother wants to do us harm.”

Byron nodded. “It would appear so,” he said.

“And Beverly Shrop is aiding her in some manner,” Jane continued.

“Miriam Ellenberg is a hunter,” said Byron. “And Beverly Shrop is her eyes and ears. She also happens to be a vampire.”

“What?” Jane said, surprised.

“Weren’t you listening?” asked Byron. “Didn’t you see that she couldn’t enter the house because Walter hadn’t invited her in?”

“I thought she was just being unusually polite,” Jane said.

“And didn’t you hear her talk about her diminished powers and an arrangement?”

“I was preoccupied with trying to stay invisible,” Jane admitted.

“Which you did rather well, by the way,” said Byron. “Congratulations. Turning Chloe does seem to have upped your powers. At any rate, yes, Beverly Shrop is a vampire.”

“Did you know this before?”

“No,” Byron replied. “But if she’s been diminished, then I wouldn’t have sensed her, as her powers are likely very weak.”

“I still don’t understand,” Jane told him.

“Miriam is a hunter,” Byron said, his voice filled with barely concealed disgust. “Surely you know about the hunters.”

“I’ve heard of them, of course,” said Jane. “But I always assumed they were a legend, or that they’d died out long ago.”

“They’re not a legend, and they haven’t died out,” Byron told her. “Their ranks have thinned, but they still seek us out.” He sighed deeply. “I haven’t encountered one since I toured with ABBA in the seventies.”

“ABBA?” said Jane. “What were you doing touring with ABBA?”

“I was their head of security,” Byron answered. “They’d gotten some threats and needed someone they could trust.”

“ABBA are vampires?” said Jane.

Byron nodded. “Why do you think they look so young? Anyway, a hunter posing as a journalist with Rolling Stone tried to get to them. In Copenhagen he got into Björn and Agnetha’s room and would have staked them if I hadn’t stopped him.”

“I had no idea,” Jane said.

“Oh, the hunters are crafty,” Byron continued. “You know, of course, that Abraham Lincoln was a hunter.”

“You mean the book is true?” said Jane. “Good heavens. Anyone else I would know?”

Byron nodded. “There are dozens throughout history,” he said. “Cleopatra. Guy Fawkes. Brigham Young. Princess Diana.”

“Not Diana!” Jane exclaimed. “Oh, and I did love her so.”

“Of course, most of them are just ordinary people,” said Byron. “Those are only some of the more high-profile ones.”

“How in the world did Walter’s mother become involved with them?” Jane wondered.

“New members are always recruited by current members,” Byron said. “Someone had to invite her.”

Jane doubted she would ever know the answer to that question. “You said that Beverly has made some kind of arrangement with Miriam,” she said. “What did you mean exactly?”

“Occasionally a vampire who is captured will make a deal,” Byron said. “Continued existence in exchange for helping the hunters find other vampires.”

“That’s a bit traitorous,” Jane remarked.

“Generally their fangs are removed,” said Byron. “Because they can’t feed normally, their powers grow weak. They subsist on the bare minimum of blood required to keep them alive, and that blood has to be given to them by their human masters.”

“It sounds like slavery,” Jane said.

Byron shook his head. “The traitors have a choice,” he said. “No one forces them to betray us.”

“How long do you think Beverly has known about us?” Jane asked.

“It’s difficult to say,” said Byron. “My guess is not terribly long. Otherwise there would have been hunters before Miriam Ellenberg.”

“I can’t believe that Walter’s mother is a vampire hunter!” Jane said. “It seems a bit too coincidental that when I finally decide to attempt a relationship with a man his mother turns out to be part of some secret society dedicated to eradicating my kind from the world. Don’t you think?”

Byron looked at her and grinned. “Not really,” he said. “After all, we’re talking about you. You don’t exactly have the best of luck when it comes to men.”

“True,” Jane agreed. “Still, this seems excessive, even for me.”

“Forget about your failed love life for a moment,” said Byron. “We have to decide what we’re going to do.”

“Do you have any ideas?” Jane asked.

“We have to fight back,” said Byron.

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