“No, you moron. Byron has been captured and is being held in Carlyle House.” The voice was crystal clear, and Jane knew she was hearing Lilith speak.
“I did it!” she said. Then the words sunk in. “Byron has been captured!”
“That’s what I’ve been trying to tell you,” Lilith said. “Miriam and Beverly have taken him to Carlyle House.”
“All right,” said Jane. “We need to rescue him. Let’s go.”
Lilith yipped. “And how are you going to do that?” she asked.
“I don’t know,” Jane answered, scooping the little dog up and carrying her. “We’ll figure that out when we get there.”
She drove quickly. Lilith, trying to sit still on the front seat, was toppled first one way and then the other. Each time she slipped she swore.
“Where did you learn such colorful language?” Jane asked her after one particularly foul outburst.
“You pick things up living on the streets,” said Lilith.
“Can Miriam understand what you’re saying?”
“No,” Lilith answered. “Only your kind can. And before you ask, no, I don’t know why. And I don’t care.”
When they neared the house Jane parked the car a block away. She and Lilith walked the rest of the way, and Jane went around to the side of the house where she could look through the windows with less chance of being seen.
They were in the living room. Byron, tied to a chair, was in the center of the room. Beverly stood behind him, her hands on his shoulder, and Miriam was in front of him. She held something in her hand.
“What is that?” Jane asked.
“What’s what?” said Lilith. “I can’t see from down here.”
Jane picked the dog up and held her to the window.
“Fang extractor,” Lilith said. “She’s going to defang him.”
Jane gasped. She set the Chihuahua down. “Why?”
Lilith snorted. “Are you stupid?” she said. “Why do you think?”
Jane looked through the window again. Byron was shaking his head from side to side as Miriam tried to get the extractor into his mouth. For the first time Jane noticed a small pool of blood on the floor by Byron’s feet. Something white lay in the red puddle. It looked like a fang.
“That’s it,” Jane told Lilith. “I’m going in.”
Lilith trotted behind Jane as she went to the back door of the house. Lifting the mat, Jane took out a key and fitted it into the lock.
“Not the best place to hide a key,” Lilith remarked as Jane opened the door.
“Hush,” said Jane as they went into a small mudroom off the kitchen.
“Just what are we going to do?” asked Lilith.
“I don’t know,” Jane admitted. “I should probably think of something.”
A loud howl came from inside the house. It was followed by a thump, as though something—or someone—had fallen over.
“Or we can just make it up as we go along,” said Jane, running into the kitchen and down the hall.
Miriam whipped around when she heard Jane’s footsteps. Jane looked at the bloody extractor in her hand, then at Byron lying on the floor. He was still tied to the chair, and was trying to inch himself away from Miriam.
“She broke one of my fangs!” he yelled.
“What is
she
doing here?” another voice asked.
Jane looked to her right and saw two more chairs set against the wall. Tied to one of them was one of the twins. Tied to the other was Charlotte.
“What is
she
doing here?” Jane said.
“All of you shut up!” Miriam bellowed. She pointed the extractor at Jane. “Tie her up,” she ordered Beverly.
Beverly came at Jane so quickly that Jane had no time to respond. She felt herself being pushed to the floor. Then her wrists were pulled together and rope was wrapped around them. She was now lying on the floor facing Byron.
“That was very well done,” Byron said.
Jane ignored him, turning her head as well as she could to see what Miriam and Beverly were going to do next. Miriam was
looking at all of the captives and smiling. “I think that’s all of them,” she said to Beverly. “I hadn’t anticipated taking care of this one so soon,” she added, nodding at Jane. “But we might as well stake them all at once.”
She came over to where Jane and Byron lay on the floor and bent down. “Are there any more of your kind polluting this town?” she asked, shaking the extractor in Jane’s face.
“I’m not telling you anything,” Jane said.
Miriam laughed. “I bet you’ll talk once I start pulling those fangs of yours,” she said. “I’ll be particularly happy to pull yours. You deserve it after trying to take my son.”
“For your information,
he
asked me out,” Jane said.
“Only because you glamored him,” said Miriam. “He would never fall in love with a creature like you. He might think he loves you, but once you’re dead and the spell is broken he’ll come to his senses.”
“And just what are you going to tell him about where I’ve gone?” Jane asked. “Or where any of us have gone?”
“That’s easy,” Miriam replied. “You and Mr. Fancypants here ran off together. The young man decided to move on. Young people do that. As for this other one, I don’t even know who she is.”
“I’m Charlotte Brontë, you dolt!” Charlotte screeched.
Miriam laughed. “She’s Charlotte Brontë,” she said, clearly not believing what she was hearing. “And I suppose
you’re
Jane Austen and Mr. Fancypants is Oscar Wilde.”
“Here now!” said Byron. “I most certainly am not. Do I look like a tired old washerwoman to you?”
“I’ve had enough out of you,” said Miriam. “Beverly, bring me the stakes.”
Jane couldn’t see what was happening, but she heard Beverly walk to another part of the room. Half a minute later she came back.
“Excellent,” said Miriam. “We’ll start with the boy.”
Again Jane heard movement. Then she heard the trussed-up
twin say, “Wait a minute. I’m not even a vampire! That’s my brother.”
“Ted?” Jane called out. “What are you doing here?”
“Ned paid me to take his place tonight,” said Ted. “He said he couldn’t stand one more date with Beverly.”
Beverly hissed. “He said he cared for me,” she whimpered.
“It doesn’t matter,” said Miriam. “We’ll use this one as bait to get the vamp after we finish the others off. Let’s do Miss Brontë instead.”
“You can’t kill me,” Charlotte shouted. “I’m Charlotte Brontë.”
“Well, I do love your books,” said Miriam, clearly still not believing Charlotte. “Even so, I’m afraid your time is up.”
“Jane!” Charlotte yelled. “Tell her who I am.”
“She’s Violet Grey,” Jane yelled back.
“She’s lying,” said Charlotte. “Do you know who she is? She’s Jane—”
She was cut off by the sound of Miriam’s body hitting the floor. The woman had fallen several feet in front of Jane and Byron, and Jane could see the gash where she had been struck in the head. A thin line of blood trickled from the wound.
“I’ve been wanting to do that for a long time,” Beverly said.
A moment later Jane felt herself pulled to a seated position and pushed against the wall. Byron was likewise arranged. The two of them were facing Ted and Charlotte, who were still tied to their chairs. Charlotte glared at Jane but said nothing.
Beverly walked over to Miriam’s body and pushed her with her foot. Miriam didn’t respond. Beverly then turned to the others. “I suppose you all want an explanation,” she said.
“Just untie us,” Charlotte said, straining against the ropes holding her still.
Beverly laughed, but there was no humor in her voice. “Untie you?” she said. “Why would I want to do that?”
“That’s enough, Doris,” Charlotte said. “Do as I say.”
“Doris?” said Jane. “Who’s Doris?”
“I am,” Beverly said.
“Doris!” Charlotte said. “Untie me. Now.”
“I don’t understand,” Jane said. “What’s going on here?”
Beverly—now Doris—sighed. “I suppose I do owe you an explanation,” she said.
“She’s my servant,” said Charlotte. “And if she knows what’s good for her, she’ll untie me at once.”
Doris ignored her. “It’s true,” she said to Jane. “I am her servant. At least I was.” She turned back to Charlotte. “But that’s all over with. I no longer take orders from you.”
“What are you talking about?” Byron said.
“And
you
,” said Doris, wheeling around to look at him. “None of us would be here if it weren’t for you.”
Byron looked at her, squinting. “I don’t remember turning you,” he said.
“You didn’t,” said Doris. “You turned her.” She nodded at Charlotte, then took a deep breath. “And she turned me as revenge against my mother, then made me serve her.”
“Your mother killed me!” Charlotte yelled. “She gave me typhus!”
“Your mother was Tabitha Ackroyd?” Byron asked.
Doris nodded. “After you turned Charlotte she came after me, turning me because she blamed my mother for her death.”
“I took her child because she took mine!” said Charlotte.
“I was no child,” Beverly snapped. “And my mother no more caused your death than I did.” She stepped toward Charlotte. “But now I will have my revenge.”
“You wouldn’t dare kill me,” said Charlotte.
Doris laughed. “I don’t intend to kill you,” she said. “I’m going to have you arrested and jailed for the murder of Jessica Abernathy.”
“You’re the one who killed her,” Jane whispered.
Doris nodded. “Yes,” she said. “And I put the note from Violet in her pocket.”
“They’ll never believe you,” Charlotte said. “Jessica was my sorority sister.”
“Please,” Doris said. “You only befriended her because you hoped she would publish your novels once she established herself. Then when she became Jane’s editor you saw an opportunity to get your revenge on your enemy.” She clapped her hands together. “No, I think you’ll be going to prison for murder. Or maybe you’d like to tell them that you’re Charlotte Brontë, as well as a vampire. What do you think they would do to you then?”
“I’ll kill you,” Charlotte growled.
“What do you think it would be like being a vampire in prison?” Doris asked, addressing Jane and Byron. “Not much fun, I wouldn’t think. And what would a life sentence be when you’re immortal? How long do you think it would be before other prisoners started turning up drained of blood? And how soon would it be before someone noticed that the prisoner in cell block C looked exactly the same as she did when she entered her cell sixty-eight years before? I suspect the scientists would be
very
interested in such a specimen.”
“It doesn’t sound very nice,” said Byron. He looked at Charlotte. “I hope you have a good lawyer.”
“I’m still confused,” Jane said. “You killed Jessica to frame Violet. That makes sense. But what about Miriam? Why were you working with her?”
“That was Charlotte’s idea,” Doris said. “You see, after your last run-in Charlotte decided to look into your boyfriend’s family to see what kind of mischief she might make. Imagine her surprise when she discovered that his own mother was one of the world’s most feared vampire hunters.”
“I don’t know how you couldn’t have known,” Charlotte said to Jane. “You’re really very stupid.”
“Says the vampire who just got framed by her own servant,” said Jane.
“I’m not her servant!” Doris said. “Stop calling me that. Both
of you.” She waited until both Jane and Charlotte were quiet, then continued. “Charlotte arranged for Miriam to catch me,” she said. “I then begged her to let me live and made a bargain with her. I would help her find other vampires.”
“But you had to agree to be defanged,” said Byron. “Now I see.”
“At first we thought we would tell Miriam that her son’s girlfriend was a vampire,” Doris said. “Then Charlotte decided it would be more amusing if she found out by accident, so I told Miriam I knew of a vampire living here.”
“That would be me,” said Byron. “Correct?”
“Yes,” said Doris. “As it happened, it was very convenient for all of us. By having Miriam kill you, Charlotte would have her revenge on you for turning her. It would also put Miriam in contact with Jane.”
“A little something for everyone,” Jane said. “It’s very nice, but there seem to be an awful lot of coincidences in this story.”
“Please,” said Doris. “As if the two of you don’t have books filled with convenient coincidences. You can’t have an entertaining story without them.”
“My novels are not entertainment,” Charlotte said. “They are literature.”
“They’re tripe,” said Doris. “The only people who like them are miserable little girls who have never been kissed and likely never will be and the occasional boy who finds a copy of
Jane Eyre
in his sister’s bedroom and thinks there might be dirty bits in it.”
Jane giggled.
“Yours are only slightly better,” Doris told her. “Supposedly independent women trotting about the countryside after impossible men.”
“But they
are
better,” Jane said. She looked at Charlotte and winked.
“Not that this isn’t a brilliant plan,” said Byron. “And it is. But it seems like a lot of fuss to go through just for a spot of revenge.”
“Not at all,” Doris said. “I really do love romance literature, and the festival was great fun. When this is all over with I plan to go right on as Beverly Shrop. Seeing Charlotte jailed and the two of you staked is just an added bonus.”
“But why me?” asked Jane. “I’ve done nothing to you.”
“Perhaps not,” Doris said. “But you’ve treated me rudely. Admit it—you thought I was just some silly woman trying to make money off your work, didn’t you?”
“Well, yes,” Jane admitted.
“You wouldn’t give me the time of day,” Doris continued. “And yet I brought busloads of fans to see you. It’s very ungrateful of you. Besides, having you dead will explain why Miriam is dead. I’m sorry about that. Well, a little sorry.”
“Is Miriam dead?” asked Jane. “I thought she was just knocked out.”
“She is,” Doris said. “But she’ll be dead soon enough. Then I can lay claim to having destroyed one of the greatest vampire hunters of all time.”
“About that,” said Jane. “How exactly did Miriam come to be a hunter?”
As Doris started to answer, Ted sprang from his chair. Only then did Jane notice that while they had been talking Lilith had snuck in and chewed through the ropes tying his hands. Now she ran at Doris’s ankles, growling and biting them as Doris danced from foot to foot in an attempt at kicking her. Ted grabbed her from behind and pinned her arms to her sides.