Jane Goes Batty (26 page)

Jane stiffened. “Your stomach is growling?” she asked.

Chloe nodded. “I should have had a muffin or some toast or something.”

“No,” said Jane. “That wouldn’t help.”

What Chloe needed was blood. It hadn’t occurred to Jane that the girl might be hungry. She’d assumed Byron had taken care of that. But perhaps Chloe hadn’t realized what was happening to her. It was difficult the first few times it happened to differentiate the need for blood from normal human hunger.

Before Jane could do anything, Tucker Mack appeared. Like Chloe, he was dressed like a 1950s student, wearing jeans, a striped polo shirt, and a varsity jacket with
PEARSON HIGH SCHOOL
written on the back in white letters. His dark hair was slicked back.

“Pearson High School,” Jane said, distracted by the jacket. “There’s no Pearson High School in
Constance
. There’s no high school at all.”

“I had to write it in,” said a voice.

Jane turned to her right and saw Shirley standing there. She was holding a script on which were numerous cross-outs and arrows and words scribbled in the margins.

“Pearson is the name of one of the producers,” Shirley continued. “He wanted to be in the movie somehow, and this was an easy way to do it. Just be glad Elena Wawrzyniak-Kobayashi settled
for an extra half a percent of the gross. We’d never have gotten that on a jacket.”

“Chloe, get in the car,” Jane heard Julia Baxter say.

“Wait a moment,” Jane said, grabbing the girl’s wrist. “You need to eat something,” she whispered in Chloe’s ear. “And I don’t mean a muffin. You need blood.”

“Chloe!” Julia called.

Chloe pulled away from Jane. “There’s no time,” she said. “Besides, I’ll be fine. This won’t take long.”

Jane watched, tension rising in her belly, as Chloe got into the convertible. Tucker Mack was already seated behind the steering wheel, one arm on the edge of the door and the other stretched along the back of the seat.

“All right,” Julia said. “Chloe, I want you to lean into him as he says his lines. But look a little bit afraid, as if you don’t know what he’s going to do.”

Julia put a pair of headphones over her ears and took a seat behind the camera. A boom was lowered over the car so that the microphone was only a few feet above the heads of the actors.

“And action!” Julia called out.

“ ‘I hope you had a nice time,’ ” Tucker said.

“ ‘I had a swell time, Jonathan,’ ” Chloe said. “ ‘Thank you for asking me. To tell the truth, I wasn’t sure you liked me.’ ”

Despite her worries about Chloe’s hunger, Jane found herself entranced by what was happening. The lines that only minutes ago had been just words on paper were now coming to life. It still wasn’t the story Jane had written, but it was exciting nevertheless.

“ ‘Of course I like you, Barbara,’ ” Tucker was saying. “ ‘I like you just fine. Connie doesn’t matter to me.’ ”

Chloe ducked her head. “ ‘You’re just saying that,’ ” she said.

Tucker put his arm around her. “ ‘That’s not so,’ ” he said. “ ‘Honest I’m not. Would I do this if I didn’t really like you?’ ”

He pulled Chloe to him and kissed her. Chloe’s hand went to his neck as their lips met. Tucker put his other arm on her waist. Then, all of a sudden, Chloe pulled away.

“Shit!” she said, no longer sounding like demure little Barbara. She looked at her face in the convertible’s mirror. “You’ve been eating garlic,” she said to Tucker.

“Yeah,” he answered. “But I used mouthwash.”

“That’s not the problem,” Chloe said, getting out of the car. She ran over to Jane. “Are these hives?” she asked, thrusting her face into Jane’s. “They itch like hell.”

Jane looked closely at the girl’s face. Where Tucker had kissed her lips and cheek there were now red blotches. Chloe reached up and scratched at them. Jane pulled her hand away. “That will just make it worse,” she said.

Julia Baxter walked over to them. “What’s the problem?” she asked, sounding annoyed.

“She has allergies,” said Jane. “To garlic, apparently.”

“Fantastic,” the director said. “Makeup!” she yelled.

A man came running carrying a small case.

“Cover the spots,” Julia told him, pointing to Chloe.

“No,” Jane said. When Julia and the man looked at her she added, “You can’t just cover them up. They’ll still itch.”

“Then she’ll have to not scratch them,” Julia said. “Not until we’ve got the scene shot. Then she can scratch all she wants.”

Chloe, who at that very moment was scratching at her cheek, stopped when Julia glared at her. “It’s not that bad,” she said.

“Ansel, fix her face,” said Julia.

The man opened the case and removed a tube of foundation. “This should do it,” he said as he dabbed some on each of Chloe’s hives and smoothed it out. “Just don’t touch it,” he told her as he dusted powder over the makeup.

“Chloe, I really don’t think this is a good idea,” said Jane.

“I’ll be
fine
,” Chloe hissed, trying not to move her mouth as Ansel applied a fresh coat of lipstick.

“Jane, why don’t you stand over there,” Julia suggested. Her voice was friendly but firm, and Jane decided now was not the time to argue. Maybe Chloe could get through the scene without further incident. Then they could take care of both her hives and her hunger.

“Is everything okay?” Posey asked when Jane came over to her.

“Fine,” Jane said. “Everything is going well.”

“I want to tell you again how sorry I am that I have to make changes to your book,” Shirley said. “If it’s any consolation, when the first Vivienne Minx book was made into a movie they decided that instead of being a black girl from Alabama whose ancestors were slaves who used their monster-hunting skills to fight the Klan she should be a white girl from California who got her skills from a magic amulet she found while scuba diving in the Bahamas.”

“You’re joking,” said Jane.

“I’m not,” Shirley said. “The good news is that the books weren’t hugely popular then and the movie only made it to cable. When we did the first real Vivienne Minx movie I had enough clout that I could insist they stick to the book. Well, more or less.”

“How did you explain the first movie?” Jane asked.

“Easy,” said Shirley. “We said it was all a bad dream Vivienne had after being bitten by a werewolf.”

“Do you think Julia would let you work a werewolf into this script?” Jane said.

Shirley laughed. “Don’t tempt me,” she said.

“Quiet on the set!” someone yelled as Jane stifled a giggle.

Once more the scene began. This time Tucker and Chloe were only a few seconds into the kiss before Chloe began beating at him with her hands. As soon as he let go she leapt from the car and ran toward her trailer, her hands clawing at her face as she shrieked in pain.

“Get her back here!” the director barked.

An assistant started toward the trailer, but Jane intervened. “I’ll get her,” she said. As she walked away she heard Tucker Mack say loudly, “It was only hummus, for Christ’s sake!”

Jane found Chloe scrubbing her face with a washcloth. “Don’t,” she said. “It will just make it worse. We need to put some calamine lotion on it.”

“It burns,” Chloe whined as Jane took the washcloth away. “I thought you said it wouldn’t.”

“I said it
probably
wouldn’t,” said Jane. “Apparently you are allergic.”

“Great,” Chloe said. “How am I supposed to get through the scene?”

Jane thought for a moment. “Maybe if you feed,” she said. “You might be particularly sensitive to the garlic because you’re hungry.”

Chloe scratched her chin. “And how am I supposed to do that?” she said. “I can’t just go off looking for someone to bite.”

“No, I suppose you can’t,” Jane agreed.

Chloe brightened. “I could bite Tucker,” she said. “When he’s kissing me. I mean, his neck will be
right there.
”

“That’s a splendid idea,” said Jane. “And it will all be caught on film, so the entire world can see it.”

“Oh,” Chloe said. “Right. I forgot about that.”

“It’s all right,” said Jane kindly. “Being hungry makes you a little stupid.” She batted Chloe’s hand away from her cheek as the girl went to scratch it again.

“What are we going to do?” Chloe moaned. “Julia’s going to have a fit if I don’t get back out there soon.”

As Jane searched for a solution there was a knock on the door. A moment later a young man’s face appeared. Jane recognized him as one of the several assistants who always seemed to be trailing after the various producers. “Chloe, she wants to know how long you’re going to be,” the young man said. “We’re losing the light, and we can’t afford to get behind.”

“Tell her she can go—” Chloe began.

“Actually, I’ll go speak to her,” Jane interrupted. She looked at the boy. “What’s your name?”

“Cedric.”

“Well, Cedric, would you be a dear and help Chloe apply some lotion?”

Chloe looked at Jane with a confused expression. Jane leaned down. “He’s already half in love with you,” she whispered. “I can tell. He’ll be very susceptible. But just drink a
little
, do you understand?”

She turned to Cedric. “I believe there’s a bottle of calamine lotion in the bathroom,” she said. She stared into his eyes and cast a glamor. Cedric’s eyes glazed over and he nodded. “I can do that,” he said.

Jane looked at Chloe. “Five minutes,” she said. “And
not too much.
”

She left the trailer, shutting the door behind her. She hoped Chloe would do as she was told. If not, it would be a disaster, or at least a very big mess. She was taking an enormous risk leaving the girl alone for her first feeding, but it was the only way.

“Where is she?” Julia Baxter asked as Jane came up to her.

“She’ll be out in a few minutes,” said Jane. “She just needs to put some calamine lotion on.”

The director shook her head. “I hate working with pop stars,” she said. “If it isn’t allergies, it’s cocaine addiction or being in a cult or some other bullshit.”

“She’s trying very hard,” Jane said, suddenly feeling very protective of Chloe. “It’s not her fault she’s allergic.”

Julia snorted. “It’s never their fault,” she said. “It’s not
their
fault they can’t remember their lines. It’s not
their
fault they got drunk and fell down. It’s not
their
fault the sex tape got leaked the week before the premiere and Disney totally freaked out. It’s never their fault.”

Jane tuned Julia out as she continued to rave about the irresponsibility
of pop stars, how no one respected directors anymore, and how she ought to have signed on to the independent film about the Brazilian street orphan who was found to be the reincarnation of the Dalai Lama.

“I bet Kathryn Bigelow doesn’t have to put up with this crap!” she raged. “I’m giving that girl two minutes to get out here or I’m quit—”

“Here I am,” said Chloe.

Jane looked up to see the girl standing there smiling. The hives were gone and her skin was flawless. There was a glow about her that hadn’t been there five minutes before. Jane recognized it at once, and she looked at Chloe with raised eyebrows.

Chloe nodded slightly. Then she looked at Julia and said, “I’m sorry about before.”

“Then you’re ready to shoot now?” asked the director.

Chloe beamed. “Of course,” she said. “I just needed a little snack.”

I
F THE HEART-SHAPED GATES FESTOONED WITH HUNDREDS OF RED
and pink roses weren’t enough to let anyone entering the fairgrounds know that love was the theme of the carnival, the half dozen men dressed like cupids walking around handing out candy hearts would have provided an additional clue. One—an attractive, well-muscled redhead wearing a short white tunic and little else—approached Jane and held out a basket. Jane shook her head firmly and walked away.

Lucy, however, took a handful of hearts. She handed one each to Byron, Ben, and Sarah. “What do they say?” she asked.

Ben peered at his. “ ‘Kiss Me,’ ” he read.

“Don’t mind if I do,” said Lucy, giving him a peck on the cheek.

“Mine says, ‘You’re Cute!’ ” said Sarah. “I already know that. I should get another one.”

Lucy looked at the candies in her hand. “This one is perfect for you,” she told the little girl as she handed her another heart.

“ ‘Girl Power,’ ” Sarah read. “Only it’s spelled G-R-R-L. I like that.” She popped the candy into her mouth, then growled. “Grrrl power,” she said.

“And what’s written on your hard little heart?” Jane asked Byron, smiling tightly.

“Mine is slightly less thrilling,” Byron said. “It says ‘Love Bug.’ I have absolutely no idea what that means.”

“It means you’re infested,” said Jane.

“You’re just determined to have a horrible time, aren’t you?” Lucy said to Jane. She hooked her arm through Jane’s and walked beside her. “Come on. It isn’t that bad.”

“It’s worse,” Jane countered.

Lucy laughed. “Cheer up, or I won’t tell you what my heart said.”

“Let me guess,” said Jane. “It said ‘Sour Puss.’ ”

“That would be for you,” Lucy teased. “Guess again.”

“I don’t want to guess,” said Jane. “I want to go home.”