Verse of the Vampyre by Diana Killian

Jewels had equaled cold cash; he found nothing magical or romantic about them. They were easy to grab and easy to liquidate. Antiquities, on the other hand, were a much riskier proposition.
    Had Mrs. Mac revealed anything else? Was Peter fostering his own thieves’ den in Innisdale? Or perhaps by hiring Mrs. Mac he had simply been giving an old colleague a break. Loyalty wasn’t a bad trait in a man. Nor compassion.
    When Mrs. Mac glanced her way, Grace quickly looked down at her book. After a few moments she began to read in earnest.
    She had recently started Tom Holland’s Lord of the Dead, a diverting blend of fact and fantasy that worked from the premise that Lord Byron, going by the name of Lord Ruthven, was in fact a vampire.
    The Ruthven name had certainly gotten a work-out in connection with Lord Byron. In her melodramatic novel Glenarvon , Lady Caroline Lamb had named the villain (a thinly disguised caricature of Byron) Lord Ruthven. Then Dr. Polidori had continued the nasty in-joke by naming his vampire villain (also a thinly disguised caricature of Byron) Lord Ruthven. Now Holland had taken it to the next logical step: a vampire named Lord Ruthven was, in fact, Lord Byron.
    It made Grace wonder again about the uncanny coincidence of Innisdale’s own Lord Ruthven. True, Lord Ruthven had appeared before the season’s play had been selected; but, thinking back, Grace couldn’t recall who had actually suggested doing Polidori’s story. Had Ruthven himself suggested it or had someone else, perhaps unconsciously influenced by Ruthven’s name, proposed the idea?
    If Ruthven had manipulated the Innisdale Players to perform The Vampyre , what could be his purpose?
    For that matter, was Ruthven even the producer’s real name?
    Am I becoming completely paranoid? Grace wondered.
    But, since she was indulging her paranoia, why had Grace been brought in? Granted, when she had been invited to take part, the theater committee was still discussing doing a work by Byron; but even so, with Roy Blade and Lady Venetia present, there were more than enough experts on the plays and poetry of the Romantic Age—jokes about being the “tiebreaker” aside.
    It was all very odd. Now they had some nut running around in a Halloween cape and spooky mask. It could be a coincidence. It was the kind of prank an adolescent might think up.
    It could be someone’s idea of a publicity stunt.
    Or someone could be seriously disturbed.
     
    On Tuesday the Innisdale Players arrived at the theater to find the front of the building spray painted. THE BLOOD IS THE LIFE, proclaimed three-foot red letters.
    A small crowd gathered outside.
    “I know that quote. Why do I know that quote?” Grace caught Blade’s out-loud thought over the others’ exclamations and expressions of dismay.
    “It’s from the Bible , ” she answered.
    His black brows shot up as he recognized the source.
    “It’s also from Dracula ,” Grace added.
    “ Dracula? ” Lady Theresa laughed uneasily. “Tell him to get his own show.”
    “Look on the bright side,” Derek said cheerfully. “Free publicity never hurt anyone.”
    Catriona said to Grace, “You seem awfully well versed on your vampire lore.”
    “I’ve been reading up. That’s my job, right?”
    “Right.” With one skeptical word Catriona managed to suggest that Grace was not above vandalizing public property. Grace told herself it was beneath her to respond to Catriona’s baiting.
    Not for the first time she wondered at Catriona’s antagonism. Surely this undercurrent as much as anything confirmed there was something between Catriona and Peter—something that made the other woman resent Grace. And if Catriona resented Grace, that was a good sign, right? That meant she wasn’t having it all her own way.
    Lord Ruthven turned from the defaced building. Grace didn’t know what to make of his expression. Anger? Fear? Low blood sugar?
    “Perhaps we should get the police,” Catriona said to him.