“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 it up in its talons.
“How old are you exactly?” Lucy asked Jane.
“Old enough not to answer that question,” Jane said. She was making room in the hallway closet and was discovering that she had far too many coats and scarves.
“Okay,” said Lucy. “But are we talking old enough to have partied with the Beatles, or old enough to have partied with Mozart?”
“We can discuss that another time,” Jane said.
She still had not given Lucy the details about her identity, and hadn’t decided if she ever would. It was bad enough that she’d said anything at all. Despite Lucy’s surprising willingness to believe Jane’s story, Jane was regretting having said anything Whatever was I thinking? she asked herself as she removed three umbrellas from the closet.
She blamed Byron. If he hadn’t seduced her, she would have had a clear head. Worse, she had given in to him based on his lies. He’d already revealed himself to Lucy. In more ways than one, I’m sure, Jane thought. What a horrid man.
But what was done was done. Now the only thing to do about it was to try to undo Byron’s plans. And Jane had come up with something she thought just might do the trick.
“He should be here any minute,” she told Lucy. “Are you ready?”
Lucy nodded. “I think so,” she replied.
Jane breathed deeply. “Good,” she said. “You stay in here until it’s time to come out.”
“How will I know?” Lucy asked.
“Trust me,” said Jane. “You’ll know.”
The doorbell rang, and Jane put her finger to her lips. “Inside,” she whispered, pushing Lucy into the closet and arranging the coats as best she could to conceal the girl. “Oh, and don’t forget these.” She pressed something into Lucy’s hand.
Lucy nodded as Jane shut the door. Jane checked her appearance in the hallway mirror, then went to greet Byron. When she opened the door, he gave her his most charming smile.
“Good evening,” he said in a voice that came straight out of a Bela Lugosi movie.
“Stop it,” said Jane. “That joke hasn’t been funny for decades.”
Byron stepped inside. “Personally, I find it’s quite a hit with the ladies,” he said.
“Calling the women you associate with ladies is stretching the definition a bit, don’t you think?” said Jane.
Byron laughed. “You’re in a mood tonight,” he said. “What’s brought this on?”
“What do you think?” said Jane. “I’ve had a headache all day.”
“Ah,” Byron replied. “Yes. I’m sorry about that. Has it really been that long since you’ve been with one of our kind?”
“You were the last,” Jane told him. “Not that it’s any of your business.”
“Really?” said Byron. “How extraordinary. Have you really not associated with any of our people in all these years?”
“Not in that way,” Jane said. “And in general, no. I did for the first fifty years or so, but I’m afraid I find most of them rather tiring.”
“And humans aren’t?”
“We are human,” said Jane. “Or at least we were.”
“True,” Byron agreed. “But not anymore. I am not now that which I have been.”
“You really do think a great deal of your own work, don’t you?” said Jane.
“I think in this instance the critics would agree with me,” he replied. “As I recall, Childe Harold was a favorite of yours as well.”
Jane took a seat on the couch. “Yes,” she said. “Well, at any rate, now we’re very old humans. Please, sit down.”
Byron sat on the other end of the couch. He was regarding Jane warily. “Why did you ask me here?”
Jane placed her hands in her lap. “I’ve been thinking,” she said carefully. “About your … offer.”
Byron lifted an eyebrow. “And?”
“And I think I’ve come up with a solution,” she said.
Byron said nothing for a minute. He kept his eyes on Jane. She forced herself to meet his gaze, not blinking. “Have you?” Byron said finally
“As you know, I’ve told Walter about myself.”
Byron nodded. “So it appears,” he said.
Jane hesitated. Much of her plan hinged on whether or not Byron believed the lie she was about to tell. “He’s agreed to share me with you,” she said.
“Has he?” Byron said, sounding genuinely surprised. “And why would he agree to such a thing?”
“Because he loves me,” said Jane. “He would rather share me than lose me completely.”
Byron shifted in his seat. He’s buying it, Jane thought. A fire of hope sparked in her.
“I must say I’m slightly disappointed,” said Byron. “I’d expected a bit more of a fight from him. Trying to put a stake through my heart or whatnot. This is … unexpected.”