Michael Ford: Jane Vows Vengeance

“Which means someone else will die,” Walter said.

“That’s if she even bothers,” said Jane. “I believe what she said about only wanting it so that no one else could have it. She’s a terribly unhappy person. I’m sure that’s why her writing is so dreary.”

“You just couldn’t let that one get by, could you?” Walter said.

“Sorry,” said Jane. “I know it’s an awful habit.”

“And Joshua?” Walter said.

“Oh, I imagine he’ll go back to doing whatever it was he was doing in the first place,” Jane said. “Something tedious I …” She stopped without finishing the thought.

“What?” asked Walter.

Jane turned to him. “It just occurred to me. We never did encounter the Tedious Three, and nobody we know has ever seen them. I wonder if Joshua could be … He certainly fits the tedious bit to a tee. But no, that would be too peculiar. Still, odder things have happened.”

“How about we leave that mystery for another day?” Walter suggested.

“You’re right,” said Jane. “This is all about us.”

The rain began to fall harder, but still they didn’t move. Walter put his arm around Jane’s shoulders, and she laid her head against his neck. She closed her eyes and tried to imagine herself being any happier than she was at that moment. And she couldn’t.

Brakeston, New York

Jane gripped Walter’s hand and squeezed it so hard that he yelped.

“Suck it up!” she said through gritted teeth. “It’s nothing compared to what’s taking place down below.”

Lucy held the cup of ice chips to Jane’s mouth, and Jane sucked a few in. “What I really want is a rare steak,” Jane said.

The midwife, peering between Jane’s legs, said, “It won’t be much longer now.”

Jane growled in response as another contraction came.

The bedroom door opened and Byron stuck his head in. He wore a gold cardboard crown with HAPPY NEW YEAR! spelled out in red glitter, and in his hand was a glass of champagne. Behind him, William looked over his shoulder.

“Are we too late?” Byron asked.

“No,” said Walter. “She hasn’t popped yet.”

“This is so exciting,” said Byron, coming into the already crowded room. “I’ve never been to a birth before.”

“Probably because you always left the women when they became pregnant,” Jane snarled.

“There’s no need to be insulting,” said Byron, lifting the sheet and looking beneath it.

“Do you mind?” the midwife said, giving him a disapproving look.

Byron made a face. “I’d forgotten what they look like,” he said. He turned to William. “It just occurred to me—you’re going to be a grandfather!”

“And you a fairy godfather,” he said.

The door opened again and Miriam appeared. She pushed between Byron and William. “Is it a boy or a girl?” she asked.

Jane replied by groaning loudly and uttering some not entirely pleasant words.

“The great reveal has yet to occur,” Byron informed Miriam, who rolled her eyes.

The midwife stood up. “I’m going to go get some more towels,” she said. She pointed at Jane. “Don’t have this baby until I get back.”

“Don’t worry,” Byron told her. “If she does, we’ll just pop it back in and she’ll do it all over again so you don’t miss anything.”

The midwife shook her head and left the room. As the contractions had stopped for the moment, Jane lay back against the pillows and breathed in short, even bursts.

“How is the party?” she heard Lucy ask.

“Wonderful,” Byron answered. “When you’re done here you should all come over.”

Jane opened one eye and fixed him with a stare. “By all means,” she said. “There’s nothing I would like more right now than to jump about with a noisemaker and toast the new year.”

“Oh, do you want some?” Byron asked, holding out the champagne flute.

“No, I do not want any!” Jane bellowed. She followed this with a wild yell. “What I want is for this child to come out now!”

The midwife returned, her arms loaded with towels.

“It’s still in there,” Byron assured her.

“Not for much longer,” said the midwife, assessing the situation. “Jane, are you ready?”

“No,” Jane said. “I’ve changed my mind. I think we’ll just wait a bit if nobody minds.”

“Push!” the midwife commanded as a contraction hit.

Jane obliged, nearly cracking the fingers of Walter’s hand in the process.

“Again!” said the midwife.

Jane heard Walter’s voice in her ear. “You’re about to be a mother,” he said gently.

Jane pushed.

The room was silent for what seemed an eternity. Then a baby’s cry filled the air, followed by cheering.

“It’s a girl,” Jane heard the midwife say.

Walter kissed Jane’s forehead as everyone else crowded around the midwife and the baby.

“She’s beautiful,” Lucy said. “Just beautiful.”

“Looks a bit like Churchill,” Byron added. “Without the cigar.”

“Hello, little one,” said William.

“I’m a grandmother,” Miriam announced. “Finally!”

“Excuse me,” Jane said. “I know this is terribly thrilling for everyone, but might I have a look at my daughter?”

The midwife brought the baby over and handed her to Jane. Jane was almost afraid to take her, but her instincts overcame her nervousness and she accepted the child into her arms.

“Hello, baby,” she said, looking into her daughter’s eyes. “It’s lovely to make your acquaintance.”

The baby wrinkled her nose and squirmed, her tiny arms waving. Her mouth opened and closed, making a popping sound.

“You should feed her as soon as possible,” the midwife said to Jane.

Jane looked at all of the faces staring at her. “This isn’t a girlie show!” she said. “Everybody out. You can come back in a bit.”

“We’ll be right outside,” Lucy said as she herded the others out of the room. “I’ll call Ben and tell him and Sarah the good news.”

Alone with Walter and their child, Jane held the baby to her breast. At first the little girl pushed away, twisting her face up and mewling like a kitten. But Jane kept bringing her back, and finally her lips closed around Jane’s nipple and she began sucking.

“Can you believe it?” Walter said. “We’re parents.”

“And ten minutes ago we were just people,” said Jane.

Walter laughed. He stroked Jane’s hair and watched the baby feed. “When do you think we’ll know?” he asked Jane.

Jane shook her head. “I don’t know,” she said. “This is new for me too.”

In the days since the wedding, the question of whether or not Jane had used Crispin’s Needle had come up several times. Each time she had deflected the question and it had gone unanswered, until finally people had stopped asking her.

The truth was, she had not used the Needle. But she still had it, sitting in its black velvet box in the top drawer of her bureau. Like Walter and Jane, it was waiting for the birth of the baby.

Before getting married, Jane and Walter had made a deal. Although both of them were willing to change for the other, neither was willing to ask the other to do so. And so they had compromised—when they had their first child, they would make the decision based on whether the baby was a vampire or not. If she was, then Walter would turn. If she wasn’t, Jane would use the Needle. That way they would all three be the same. They would then announce the results to their loved ones.

Now that the moment had arrived, though, Jane had no idea how to tell. Perhaps it wasn’t even something that could be discerned until a certain age. As she watched her daughter suckle, it occurred to Jane that once again she had failed to ask the proper questions. We always seem to be making it up as we go along , she thought.