“She claims she’s a vampire hunter,” said Walter. “And William, he’s supposedly a vampire. Also, he’s my father.”
Jane tread carefully, unsure of how solid the ground on which she now walked was. “You do resemble him,” she said.
To her surprise, Walter laughed. “Oh, and Suzu was really Charlotte Brontë. I forgot that part.”
Jane waited for him to question her about her role in the drama that had unfolded in the pet cemetery, but he didn’t. She wondered if perhaps he’d forgotten. He seemed transfixed by the statue of Peter Pan.
“What would you say if your mother sat you down and told you that story?” he asked, breaking the silence.
Jane thought for a while before speaking.
“Did you read the Narnia books when you were small?” she asked Walter.
“Yes,” he answered. “I loved them. Why?”
“Do you remember in the first book when Lucy has told the others that she’s found Narnia inside the wardrobe? They don’t believe her, so they go to the old Professor and ask him what he thinks. He tells them that there are only three possible explanations for what she’s said—she’s telling lies, she’s mad, or she’s telling the truth.”
“I remember that,” Walter said. “And they decide that since they’ve never known her to tell lies, and she isn’t crazy, then she must be telling the truth.”
“Right,” said Jane. “Well, suppose we apply those same rules to what your mother told you today. Have you ever known your mother to lie?”
“Not until today. She never even tried to get me to believe in the tooth fairy or the Easter bunny or Santa Claus. She never let me believe in them. She always told me that I should know the difference between what was real and what was imaginary.”
“All right,” said Jane. “And although it pains me to say this, I don’t think she’s mad. Which leaves the possibility that she’s telling the truth.”
Walter shook his head. “That’s ridiculous. Jane, she wants me to believe that vampires are real.”
“How do you know they aren’t?”
“Everybody knows they aren’t,” said Walter.
“Who’s to say what’s real and what isn’t?” she asked him. “Some of the most unbelievable things are real. Did you know there’s a type of sea slug that eats anemones and then uses their stinging cells for its own defense? If you ask me, that’s far weirder than the notion of vampires. And what about the platypus? It’s the Frankenstein’s monster of the animal world, as if somebody sewed together parts of a beaver, a crocodile, and a duck and then added some poison sacs for good measure.”
“If I didn’t know better, I might think you want me to believe in vampires.”
“I’m just saying it’s an option,” Jane replied.
“Let me ask you this,” Walter said. “What would you think if your mother told you that vampires were real?”
“I wish she had,” Jane said, snorting. “Then I wouldn’t be here right now. Not that I don’t want to be here,” she added. “I mean I wouldn’t be here the way I am, although even if she had told me about vampires I wouldn’t have known Byron was one, so it probably all would have turned out like this anyway.”
“Are you going to start making sense anytime soon?” Walter asked.
“Walter,” Jane said, looking him in the eyes, “your mother isn’t lying to you. She is a vampire hunter, and William is a vampire. I know this because I’m a vampire. So are a couple of other people you know, but I’ll let them tell you themselves. We’re really not supposed to out one another.”
Having said it, Jane now wondered why she had worried so much about it. The words had come out fairly easily, and despite her fears she already felt immensely better.
“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you before,” she said. “I know I should have. But now you know why I said no all those times you asked me out.”
Walter looked at her for long enough that some of her relief began to turn to worry. “I can’t believe you,” he said. “Here I am freaking out about the fact that my mother might very well be a raving lunatic, and you’re making fun of me.”
“I’m not making fun of you,” Jane protested. “I’m telling you the truth.”
Walter laughed. “You’re a vampire?” he said.
Jane nodded. “Yes.”
“You drink blood?”
She cringed. “Only when I have to. And never from you. I want you to know that.”
“Well, that’s a relief,” said Walter. “Anything else I should know? Is Lucy a werewolf? Maybe old Sherman at the paper is really Satan in disguise?”
“Now you’re being ridiculous,” Jane said.
“I’m being ridiculous? Are you listening to yourself? Have you heard anything you’ve said in the last five minutes?”
“This really isn’t going well.”
Jane looked down and saw Lilith looking up at her.
“Don’t you start,” she told the Chihuahua.
“Who are you talking to?” Walter asked. “The dog? Wait. Let me guess. She’s really an alien. From Mars or from Jupiter?”
“I told you it wasn’t going well,” Lilith said. “You should have quit while you were ahead.”
“I was never ahead,” said Jane.
“Would you please stop it?” Walter said. “You know, as odd as you can be sometimes, you’ve always been there for me. Now, when I need you the most, this is how you behave? I can’t believe you, Jane.”
He turned and started to walk away. Lilith trotted beside him, using her strange hop-skip-hop technique.
“Walter,” Jane called.
“Leave me alone,” he said.
Jane started to cry. “Walter,” she said. “Please come back.”
Walter whirled around. “You want me to believe that you’re a vampire?” he said. “Then bite me.”
Jane stared at him, unable to speak.
“Go on,” Walter said. He tilted his head, exposing his neck. “Go on, Jane. Bite me.”
Jane closed her eyes. No, no, no, no, no, she thought. This isn’t how it’s supposed to happen.
“Did you hear me, Jane?” Walter yelled. “I told you to bite me!”
Jane opened her eyes.
“I heard you,” she said, and her fangs clicked into place.
Chapter 27
Saturday: London
Walter opened his eyes, sat up and groaned.
“What happened?” he asked.
Jane, who was sitting on the side of the bed, handed him a glass of water and two aspirin. “Take these,” she said.
Walter swallowed the pills and handed back the glass. “I feel as if someone hit me in the head with a line drive,” he said, rubbing his temples.
“It’s the aftereffects from being bitten,” said Jane. “They’ll wear off in a couple of hours.”
“What bit me?” Walter asked. “It wasn’t Lilith, was it? I know she can be a little snippy, but—”
“It wasn’t Lilith,” said Jane. “It was me.”
“You?” Walter said. “Why would you bite me?”
“You’ll remember soon enough,” said Jane. “I didn’t glamor you, so eventually it will all come back. Probably in bits and pieces.”
Walter shut his eyes and groaned. His fingers went to his neck, where the two small puncture wounds caused by Jane’s bite had already healed. “It hurts,” he said.
“I’m sorry about that,” said Jane. “But you wanted proof.”
“Proof of what?” Walter asked, leaning back against the pillows.
“Try to remember,” Jane told him. “Just relax your thoughts.”
Walter took a deep breath, then another. He kept his eyes closed, but Jane could see that he was concentrating. Beneath the lids his eyes moved back and forth. After a minute or two his eyes flew open and he stared at Jane.
“You’re a vampire!” he said.
“I’m afraid so,” Jane said.
“Everything my mother told me is true,” Walt
er said, looking confused and hurt and angry all at the same time. “My father—”
“Is a vampire too,” said Jane. “And your mother is a hunter. Not the best pairing imaginable, but these things happen.”
Walter tried to get up but wobbled and lay back down. Jane moved closer, but Walter recoiled from her. She felt her heart break a little bit as she saw him move away.
“I’m sorry,” she said. “This isn’t the way I wanted you to find out.”
Walter laughed bitterly. “As if there’s a good way to find out?” he said.
“No,” said Jane. “I suppose there isn’t.”
“Who else knows?” Walter asked her.
“Lucy,” Jane said. “Ned and Ted at the shop. Brian.”
“So I’m the last one to find out,” said Walter.
“Not the last one,” Jane said. “Ben doesn’t know.”
“Ben has known you less than a year,” said Walter. “I’ve known you for ten. And Ben hasn’t been living with you for the past nine months and isn’t your fiancé. So excuse me if that doesn’t make me feel any better.”
Jane set the glass on the nightstand. “I really don’t know what to say,” she told Walter.
“Am I one of you now?” he asked.
Jane shook her head. “No. I didn’t take very much. Just enough to make you believe.”
Walter grunted. “I suppose I should be thankful for that,” he said.
“This probably isn’t the best time to mention this,” Jane said. “But you are half vampire.”
“I can’t believe I’m having this conversation,” Walter said. “Do you know how ridiculous this all sounds?”
“It’s a lot to take in,” said Jane. “I know it took me a long time to accept it after I was changed.”
“And when did that happen?” Walter asked.
Jane wondered if she should lie, then decided against it. There’s been too much lying already, she thought. He might as well know everything.
“Eighteen sixteen,” she said. “And there’s something else you might as well know. My real name isn’t Jane Fairfax, it’s Jane Austen.”
Walter stared at her.
“I know it isn’t terribly original,” Jane said. “At first I considered Sophronia Kindleysides, but it seemed a bit much. Besides, I was already used to Jane, so changing just the surname was easiest.”
“I suppose you’re the Jane Austen,” Walter said.
Jane nodded. “I’m afraid I am.”
“No wonder my mother doesn’t like you,” said Walter. “She hates your books.”
“Yes,” Jane said. “She’s made that clear on several occasions.”
“She thinks your characters are boring,” Walter continued.
“I believe I’ve heard her say as much,” Jane said, keeping an even tone.
“She also says there are far too many coincidences in your plots and—”
“I know,” Jane said. “And she’s one to talk. Too many coincidences! What about her plot? A vampire hunter marries a man who just happens to have a vampire in the family? She gets pregnant by that vampire and forty years later her child falls in love with another vampire? Oh, and the father of that child just happens to be the best friend of another vampire who lives in the same town? There are far more coincidences in that story than in any of mine.”
“William’s best friend is Brian,” Walter said, catching up with her. “Are you saying Brian is a—”
“Oh, for heaven’s sake, yes, he’s a vampire. And he happens to be Lord Byron. I know I said we aren’t supposed to out one another, but I think as far as this is concerned he owes me. After all, he’s the one who turned—”
“Brian?” Walter interrupted. “Brian turned you. But I thought he was—”
“He is,” said Jane. “Well, he mostly is. Back then he was a little less discriminating.”
“And my father?” Walter asked. “Who is he really?”
“Oh, he’s just William,” said Jane. “Well, not just William. He’s pretty extraordinary in his own right. Did you know Byron selected him to be his companion after seeing him working in the fields? He was extraordinarily good-looking. It’s no wonder Byron fell in love with—”
“La la la la la,” Walter wailed, putting his hands over his ears.
“Sorry,” Jane said. “I suppose thinking about that would be a trifle unsettling.”
“What?” said Walter. “You mean the fact that apparently both my fiancée and my father slept with the same man? Yes, I think ‘unsettling’ is a good way to describe it.”
“To be fair, he is Lord Byron,” Jane said. “I don’t know many people who haven’t slept with him at one time or another.”
Walter held up his hands and Jane stopped. She wasn’t doing a very good job of making things better. They sat in silence for a time as Jane waited for Walter to say something. But he didn’t. He just looked out the window. Finally, he cleared his throat.
“So how does this work?” he said. “Do I have to become a vampire?”
“No,” Jane answered. “You don’t.”
“But I’m guessing that you don’t get any older,” said Walter. “I mean, your body doesn’t. You stay the same, right?”
Jane nodded. “That’s right.”
“I see,” Walter said.
Jane knew that he was thinking about what it would mean for her to stay the same while he grew old and eventually died. “I thought there was a chance that I might be able to become mortal again,” she said. “I was going to try it.”
Walter looked over at her. “But you decided not to?”
“It turned out to be a legend,” Jane said. “An unfortunate bit of irony there, I suppose.”
“Is that what Suzu was talking about in the cemetery?” Walter asked. “That iron spike?”
“It’s called Crispin’s Needle,” Jane said. She didn’t correct him regarding Suzu’s identity, hoping that perhaps he hadn’t heard or didn’t remember. “But it’s a fake. We made it to fool her.”
“To save my mother,” said Walter.
“Yes,” Jane said. “To save Miriam.”
“Thank you for that,” Walter said.
“Well, she is my mother-in-law,” Jane reminded him. Then she remembered that they were yet to be married. “Will be my mother-in-law,” she said. “Might be my mother-in-law.”
Walter said nothing. Jane, unable to stand the uncertainty, finally asked, “Where does this leave us?”
Walter didn’t look at her. “I don’t know,” he said.
“Do you still love me?” asked Jane.
“Yes,” Walter answered. “I do.”
“It’s the vampire thing, isn’t it?” said Jane.
“Strangely enough, no,” Walter replied. “It’s that you didn’t think you could tell me the truth. And you were going to marry me without telling me.”
“I was hoping I could find a solution,” Jane said. “That way you would never have had to know.”
Walter took her hand. “But don’t you see how that’s even worse?” he said. “We should know everything about each other—the good and the bad. If there’s something about yourself you feel you have to hide away from me, that’s always going to be between us. There’s always going to be that one hidden room you won’t let me into. And you’ll be so worried that someday I might accidentally open the door to that room that you’ll never be able to fully be yourself. You’ll always be on guard. And the worst part is that the person you’ll be afraid of is the one who loves you the most.”
Jane felt tears forming in her eyes. “But you know now,” she said. “I don’t have to keep that door closed anymore.”
Walter squeezed her hand. “But you didn’t open the door on your own,” he said. “It was forced open.”
Jane sniffed as a tear rolled down her cheek. “Ben can still marry us,” she said. “Tomorrow. We can start fresh. No more secrets.”
Walter looked into her eyes. “I don’t know if I can,” he said
.
Jane began to cry. “Please, Walter,” she said. “Don’t say no. I don’t think I can bear it.”
Walter took her in his arms and held her tightly. “I love you more than anything in the world,” he whispered. “But I don’t know.”
They stayed that way for a long time, Walter just holding Jane while she wept. Eventually he let go and she wiped her eyes.
“I’m going to go now,” Jane said. “I’m going to go away and give you time to think. Tomorrow morning at nine o’clock I’ll be standing in the White Tower, waiting for you. If you still want to marry me, you meet me there.”
“And if I don’t come?” asked Walter.
Jane forced a smile. “La la la la la,” she said, putting her hands over her ears. She took them away again and kissed Walter lightly on the lips. Then she stood up and without another word left the room.
Byron found her a few hours later, sitting in the American Bar listening to the piano player and drinking gin and tonics. She’d had three, and was working on her fourth.
“Lucy has been looking all over for you,” Byron said as he sat down at her table. “She’s worried.”
“You told her what happened?” Jane asked.
“An abbreviated version of the story,” Byron said. “Dare I ask how things went with our dear Walter?”
Jane took a long sip from her glass. “I told him that I’ll be waiting for him in the Tower tomorrow morning at nine,” she said.
“How typically passive-aggressive of you,” said Byron.
Jane glared at him. “I’m not in the mood for you,” she warned.
“Don’t worry,” Byron said. “I haven’t come to torment you. I came to give you a wedding present.”
He laid a long, thin black velvet box on the table. Jane looked at it. “Is it a necklace?” she asked hopefully.
“Open it,” Byron said.
Jane picked up the box, which was surprisingly heavy, and opened it. Inside, nestled in a narrow trench pressed into the velvet, was a piece of metal about nine inches long. One end came to a very fine point, while the other was rounded.
“It’s Crispin’s Needle,” Byron informed her before she could ask.
Jane, confused, set the box down. “The Needle is a myth,” she said. “You told me as much yourself.”
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