The Mammoth Book Of Vampire Stories Written By Women

Meyer poured a small amount of prayer wine for each person, though he knew that his Muslem guests did not drink. He was emptying the last of the carafe into a large goblet set aside for the Prophet Elijah, when there came a knock at the door. Meyer's hand jerked in surprise and a few drops missed the large goblet and landed on his wife's handwoven tablecloth. He grimaced; there was little more where that had come from. The extra glass of wine they poured each year — the extra place setting at the table was a tradition he would never have ignored. But for a stranger to know the exact moment in the Seder bordered on miraculous.

"Timing is everything," he said, thinking, the Prophet has a good nose.

"Go, Devora. Open the door for our visitor," he said, addressing his sixteen-year-old daughter.

She was not surprised, for each year at Passover her father had not so subtly knocked under the table and instructed her youngest brother to open the door and welcome the Prophet Elijah. Of course, there had never been anyone there, though her father said that Elijah's spirit entered.

Not so this time.

Standing at the door in the darkness was a robed stranger, a tall man whose handsome face spoke of unbearable weariness. Slightly behind him stood a second man whose appearance and bearing cast him in the role of manservant.

"Welcome to our home," Meyer said, beckoning the strangers to the table and thinking that Rose would have to set yet another place. "It may not be much, but it is one of the best in Mea Shearim."

Gesturing first to his manservant in such a manner that it was apparent he would remain outside, the Stranger entered Meyer's house. He did not remove his robe, nor did he look into the eyes of his host.

"Will you pray with us over the wine?" Meyer asked, thinking that he must remember later to have Devora take food and wine outside to the manservant.

The man sat but did not speak, neither did he eat or drink, even after the prayers were done. He was dark and swarthy, but did not seem to be of Jerusalem.

"What road have you travelled, Stranger?" Meyer asked, wondering if the man had been sent to observe the blood rites of which the Jews were accused. If so, he would leave disappointed.

"I travel the Road of Humanitatis," the man said.

Those were all the words he spoke.

When the meal was over, there was one more tradition to be observed before the final song could be sung. Earlier, Devora — the oldest and the youngest had hidden a piece of unleavened bread known as the Afikomen . Now she was sent to retrieve it.

"Let our daughter also take food and wine to the man who is outside in the moonlight," Meyer said to Rose. "She will be rewarded for returning the Afikomen to the table," Meyer explained to his guests, "for without it the Seder cannot be completed. It will not take long for her to find it. Rose and I watched her hide it in the garden."

After a few moments, when Devora had not returned, the Stranger stood as if to leave. Meyer bade him Godspeed and glanced at the family of Hamid el Faisir, wishing they too would depart. Despite his best efforts it had been a strained night; he wanted it to be over.

When their daughter still did not return with the Afikomen , which fairly translated meant Aftermath, Rose said, "I am worried about our daughter. It is that time of the month for her. She should not be outside alone and in the dark for so long."

Meyer excused himself and went to find Devora.

He found her in the small arbour which stood permanently in the garden, ready to be decorated each autumn in thanks for God's bounty. She held the Afikomen in her hand. Silently, she gave it to her father.

Silently, he took it.

"We have been waiting for you," Meyer said. "All but the Stranger, who came out of the night and has returned to it."

"I have been with him," Devora responded. "And I have fed his manservant."

Devora, daughter of Rose and of Meyer ben Joseph, never spoke again of the two men or even of the child of the manservant, conceived that Passover during her time of bleeding and growing in her womb. More and more, she became morose. Each time she passed a mirror, it was spotted with droplets of blood and she was shamed before her father, the remaining man of her family. Soon she ceased to be obedient to him or to any man. As if she wished to die in childbirth, she baked challahs and deliberately neglected to take from the dough and give what she had taken to a priest in tithing.

Meyer did not like his daughter's behaviours but he accepted them as part of the changes wrought by childbearing, a process he did not pretend to understand. Rose was more frightened than angered. Though it was the word of God and of Allah that Their followers go forth and multiply, it was also His word that no child be conceived during niddah menstruation and for good reason.

She feared for the life of her daughter and trembled for her daughter's child, lest that child — conceived in blood — be claimed by the demon queen, Lilith.