10: Spell of Jealousy

<body topmargin=0 leftmargin=0 marginheight=0 marginwidth=0> <table cellpadding=0 cellspacing=0 border=0><tr> <td valign="top" colspan=2 height=90 BGCOLOR="#CC9900" TEXT="#080000" bgproperties="fixed" background="047005a0dwnjzk.gif"> <div> <A HREF="index.htm" TARGET="_top" TITLE="Cassies Writing"><U><B>home</B></U></A><B>     | </B><B> </B><B> </B><B>  </B><FONT SIZE="5" COLOR="#FFCC66" FACE="Arial" ><B>Cassie's Writing</B></FONT></div> <div> <A HREF="id109.htm" TARGET="_top" TITLE="1: Stolen Memories"><U><B>1:  Stolen Memories</B></U></A><B>   |   </B><A HREF="id110.htm" TARGET="_top" TITLE="2: A Complex Puzzle"><U><B>2:  A Complex Puzzle</B></U></A><B>   |   </B><A HREF="id111.htm" TARGET="_top" TITLE="3: Peeling the Onion"><U><B>3:  Peeling the Onion</B></U></A><B>   |   </B><A HREF="id112.htm" TARGET="_top" TITLE="4: Secrets Revealed"><U><B>4:  Secrets Revealed</B></U></A><B>   |   </B><A HREF="id113.htm" TARGET="_top" TITLE="5: Going Home Again"><U><B>5:  Going Home Again</B></U></A><B>   |   </B><A HREF="id114.htm" TARGET="_top" TITLE="6: ThingintheBox"><U><B>6:  Thing-in-the-Box</B></U></A><B>   |   </B><A HREF="id116.htm" TARGET="_top" TITLE="7: Challenging the Leviathan"><U><B>7:  Challenging the Leviathan</B></U></A><B>   |   </B><A HREF="id117.htm" TARGET="_top" TITLE="8: Circling the Wagons"><U><B>8:  Circling the Wagons</B></U></A><B>   |   </B><A HREF="id118.htm" TARGET="_top" TITLE="9: Jebs Curse"><U><B>9:  Jeb's Curse</B></U></A><B>   |   </B><B>10:  Spell of Jealousy</B><B>   |   </B><A HREF="id120.htm" TARGET="_top" TITLE="11: Carrying the Weight"><U><B>11:  Carrying the Weight</B></U></A><B>   |   </B><A HREF="id121.htm" TARGET="_top" TITLE="12: A Fiendish New Year"><U><B>12:  A Fiendish New Year</B></U></A><B>   |   </B><A HREF="id122.htm" TARGET="_top" TITLE="13: Barnabas Crisis"><U><B>13:  Barnabas' Crisis</B></U></A><B>   |   </B><A HREF="id123.htm" TARGET="_top" TITLE="14: Barnabas in Parallel Time"><U><B>14:  Barnabas in Parallel Time</B></U></A><B>   |   </B><A HREF="id124.htm" TARGET="_top" TITLE="15: Clues to Disaster"><U><B>15:  Clues to Disaster</B></U></A><B>   |   </B><A HREF="id125.htm" TARGET="_top" TITLE="16: Demons Possession"><U><B>16:  Demon's Possession</B></U></A><B>   |   </B><A HREF="id126.htm" TARGET="_top" TITLE="17: Breach of Trust"><U><B>17:  Breach of Trust</B></U></A><B>   |   </B><A HREF="id127.htm" TARGET="_top" TITLE="18: Labyrinth of Emotions"><U><B>18:  Labyrinth of Emotions</B></U></A><B>   |   </B><A HREF="id128.htm" TARGET="_top" TITLE="19: The Amanda Dilemma"><U><B>19:  The Amanda Dilemma</B></U></A><B>   |   </B><A HREF="id129.htm" TARGET="_top" TITLE="20: Ziganas Cure"><U><B>20:  Zigana's Cure</B></U></A><B>   |   </B><A HREF="id130.htm" TARGET="_top" TITLE="21: The Approaching Storm"><U><B>21:  The Approaching Storm</B></U></A><B>   |   </B><A HREF="id131.htm" TARGET="_top" TITLE="22: Enigma at Collinwood"><U><B>22:  Enigma at Collinwood</B></U></A><B>   |   </B><A HREF="id132.htm" TARGET="_top" TITLE="23: Reunion in Hell"><U><B>23:  Reunion in Hell</B></U></A><B>   |   </B><A HREF="id133.htm" TARGET="_top" TITLE="24: Scattered Through Time"><U><B>24:  Scattered Through Time</B></U></A></div> <div> </div> </td> </tr><tr> <td valign="top" width=210 BGCOLOR="#FFFFFF" TEXT="#080000"> <div> <B>10:  Spell of Jealousy</B></div> <div> <A HREF="id107.htm" TARGET="_top" TITLE="Alternate Destiny"><U><B>Alternate Destiny</B></U></A></div> </td> <td valign="top" height=390 BGCOLOR="#FFFFFF" TEXT="#080000"> <div> "Quentin!" Barnabas called, shaking his shoulder.</div> <div> Quentin stirred and opened his eyes, looking into his cousin's.  Barnabas looked maliciously pleased.  "What happened?" he asked.</div> <div> "Well, for one thing, Carolyn has had another terrible dream about her father," Barnabas began.  "When you told me she was dreaming, I was unhappy to hear it.  However, I realize now that it is keeping her from Jeb and thwarting his plans.  He is out of his mind with frustration.  He's done something very impulsive and stupid."</div> <div> "What's that?" Quentin asked curiously.  He glanced at the clock.  Barnabas had been gone for hours.  It was well after midnight.</div> <div> "Well, it seems that he's decided that the cause of all his problems is Paul Stoddard.  He went to the grave with his bodyguard-Bruno?  He had Bruno open the grave.  They removed the body and burned it."</div> <div> "Christ Almighty!" Quentin exclaimed, horrified.  He was wide-awake now.  "What good was that supposed to do?"</div> <div> "Everything-for us.  None for him.  Stoddard should have no trouble disposing of Jeb now."  Barnabas grinned wickedly.  "By burning the body, Jeb has unleashed all of the spirit's fury.  It is to our advantage that he refuses to abide by the book!"</div> <div> "Oh!" Quentin exclaimed, thinking.  He wondered if his incantation had anything to do with what happened.  He laughed.  He certainly hoped so!  "How did you find out?  Did you see?"</div> <div> "No, Megan told me." Barnabas answered. He had a triumphant gleam in his eyes.  "She was eager to give me the information."</div> <div> Quentin swallowed, not sure how he felt about that.  He understood that Barnabas had bitten Megan and she was his slave now.  "Aren't you supposed to refrain from uh-you know-when Julia's giving you the injections?" he asked.</div> <div> "Yes, that is correct, but it was worth the setback and the nausea to get the information I wanted," Barnabas answered grimly.  "Julia can begin again tomorrow."</div> <div> "Where's Julia?" Quentin asked.</div> <div> "She is sleeping, I hope," Barnabas answered.  "She was exhausted."  Quentin nodded, agreeing.  He hoped she would sleep, too.  "It's late," Barnabas went on.  "You've been drinking, have you?  That's all right, it doesn't matter.  Come, let me show you to a room upstairs."</div> <div> "I'm all right," he protested.  "Don't you want to talk?"</div> <div> "We'll talk tomorrow," Barnabas answered.  "What I want is for you to go back to sleep, too.  You'll stay here tomorrow for me, won't you?"</div> <div> "Sure."</div> <div> "I want you to be rested, not tired from lack of sleep.  Come along-you couldn't possibly be comfortable sleeping in that chair."  Quentin got up obediently, hearing the unspoken "Don't argue with me" in his cousin's tone.  In this case, Barnabas was right.  The more rest he had, the more clearly he'd be able to think.  He'd save his arguments for quarrels that really mattered.  </div> <div> Barnabas brought Quentin to Josette's old room.  Quentin looked around and thought it really had been beautifully remodeled.  "Very pretty-for a lady," he commented.</div> <div> "Willie helped me with this room.  It was the first one that we restored," Barnabas explained.  "Well, rather, it was the first one he restored.  Most of the rooms are finished, except for a few in what used to be the servants' quarters.  Come-I'll show you to my room."</div> <div> Surprised, Quentin repeated, "Your room?"</div> <div> Barnabas gave him an ironic smile.  "You wouldn't be putting me out, Quentin."</div> <div> No, it wasn't me that did that, Quentin thought ruefully.  He followed Barnabas to his room, much more masculine, with heavy oak furniture.  As Barnabas said goodnight and left, Quentin made his way toward the large, comfortable looking bed.  <I>Now, why did he take me to Josette's room?</I> He wondered.  <I>Maybe he's thinking about Josette.</I>  He'd gotten most of the way undressed when he suddenly froze.</div> <div> Barnabas had once confided to Quentin the worst thing he'd ever done: he'd taken Maggie prisoner and tried to make her over into Josette when he'd first been freed from the coffin.  It was an insane thing to do, but Barnabas had been frightened and desperately lonely.  <I>Maybe he feels that way again-now that the curse has been returned to him.</I>  Maggie and Barnabas were very close friends, close enough for Julia to be jealous of her.  <I>Would he try to bite Maggie?</I>  <I>No, he wouldn't-or would he?</I>  Barnabas' concern for Quentin's well-being suddenly seemed sinister.</div> <div> Quentin redressed quickly and went downstairs, calling for his cousin.  There was no answer.  Barnabas wasn't in the Old House.  Shit! Quentin thought. He jogged to Collinwood as quickly as he could without tipping over.  The front door wasn't locked.  Either someone was careless, or there were still visitors in the darkened house.  From the foyer, Quentin could see that the drawing room doors were closed.  He could hear Maggie's voice inside, followed by Barnabas' low baritone voice.  He couldn't make out the words.  <I>I hate to do this, and Barnabas is going to be mad at me if nothing is going on,</I> he thought, putting his hand on the doorknob and opening it.</div> <div> Barnabas' back was to the door.  He had his arms wrapped tightly around Maggie, his head bent to her throat.  "Barnabas!" Quentin called out, alarmed.  Immediately, Barnabas lifted his head and backed away, letting go of Maggie.  He turned on his heel and glared at Quentin, who felt his next words catch in his throat.  Barnabas' eyes were glowing red with fury; he snarled soundlessly, exposing his sharp fangs.</div> <div> "What is it?" he barked sharply a moment later.</div> <div> Quentin couldn't answer at first.  Then he said, "You told me to make sure to get you if you weren't back by one.  You have many things to do tomorrow, you said."</div> <div> "Yes, you're right, of course," Barnabas answered, his voice sounding harsh and angry.</div> <div> "It is very late," Maggie agreed softly.  Quentin noticed that she was wearing a new ring on her finger; Barnabas must have given it to her.  She was fingering it absently.</div> <div> "Yes, it is, and I've kept you up long enough, Maggie."  Barnabas took her hand and kissed it.  He sounded normal again.  "I will see you tomorrow?"</div> <div> "Yes, I'd like that," Maggie answered, smiling prettily.  She looked at Quentin very briefly.  "Good night."  She slipped past him and went up the stairs and down the hall to her room.</div> <div> The two cousins looked at each other.  <I>He could attack me if he wanted to and really hurt me,</I> Quentin realized, watching the look of resentment and anger returning to Barnabas' eyes.  "Barnabas, you didn't really want to hurt Maggie, did you?" he asked, softly.  "For God's sake, tell me that you didn't want to make her a vampire, too?  Tell me I did the right thing by stopping you."</div> <div> Barnabas clenched his fists tightly.  It was obvious that making Maggie his was exactly what he wanted to do.  Quentin watched him struggling to control himself, knowing it was useless to run if his cousin turned on him.  Finally Barnabas opened his hands and let them dangle loosely by his side.  "It would be wrong to do that to her," he said softly.  "It is a good thing that you came when you did."</div> <div> Quentin sighed with relief.  "We'll go back to the Old House?" he suggested.  "Look, I'll stay up and keep you company."</div> <div> "All right," Barnabas agreed with a definite lack of enthusiasm in his voice.  Maggie was safe for another night, Quentin thought.  He would have to tell Julia-they'd have to watch out for her and try to keep the two of them apart.  Once they got back to the Old House, Barnabas didn't try to send Quentin off to sleep again.  He seemed to take a perverse delight in keeping his cousin awake, calling "Quentin! Aren't you listening?" whenever he caught Quentin dozing.</div> <div> Quentin nearly collapsed with relief when the sun began to rise and Barnabas took his leave.  He considered going upstairs and lying down for some sleep but had a feeling Julia would come, and so he waited.  He was very grateful that Julia brought him breakfast and a thermos full of coffee.  "I had a feeling you might not want to have to fool with that old wood burning stove," Julia explained.  "Didn't you get any sleep?"</div> <div> "No!"  Quentin exclaimed, gratefully shoveling the still warm scrambled eggs, bacon, and hash browns into his mouth.  He realized he was starving as he told Julia what happened the night before.</div> <div> "I was afraid of this," Julia said, dismayed.  "Will you be all right here?  I have to go into Bangor for some compounds I need for the serum."</div> <div> "Yeah, sure, I'll be all right," Quentin assured her.  "I'm sure old Jeb won't come calling this morning."</div> <div> "Sweetie, we never know when he's going to show up with a stake," Julia cautioned.</div> <div> "You're right.  I'll be all right, Julia, really."</div> <div> "All right.  I'll try not to be long.  I'll bring you some lunch or dinner, depending on when I get back.  If you get hungry, you'll be able to find something to eat in the kitchen."</div> <div> "Thanks, Julia."  All he really wanted to do was sleep, and all he really wanted to do was stretch out on that comfortable looking bed in Barnabas' room, but her warning stuck with him.  <I>If Barnabas thinks this is going to keep me and Julia from trying to protect Maggie, he's got another think coming,</I> he thought irritably, trying to make himself comfortable by curling up in the chair by the fire.  He actually managed to doze off and on throughout the morning and early afternoon.</div> <div> He woke up to someone knocking at the door.  He got up slowly, stiff and sore from being cramped in the chair, stretching his limbs.  The knocking continued.  "Coming!" he called.  He hoped it wasn't Jeb.  He definitely wasn't in form right now.  <I>I'm going to talk to Barnabas about this-if he wants to be protected, he can't be getting even with me for protecting Maggie like this.</I>  "All right, all right!" he yelled to the impatient knocker, pulling the door open.  He was shocked.  Angelique stood there, looking pale and ill. <I>Holy shit</I>, he thought, gawking at her.</div> <div> "Well, don't just stand there," she said with some asperity.  "Where are your manners?  Aren't you going to invite me in?"</div> <div> "Uh-yes, of course, I'm sorry, come in."  He stepped back, making way for her to come in.  He couldn't help but stare at her.  She was absolutely beautiful, even after all these years.  Her luxuriantly thick blonde hair fell down around her shoulders, and her eyes were still as blue as the sky.  She realized that he was staring at her and smiled to herself, pleased.  He thought about the last time he'd seen her, in Chicago, just after he'd married Beth.  He had her to thank for finding her.</div> <div> "Well, Quentin, don't you have anything to say?  We haven't seen each other in many years.  Are you going to just stand there, staring at me?"  She almost sounded as if she was laughing at him.</div> <div> "No! I-I'm just sur-surprised, that's all," he stuttered, feeling foolish.</div> <div> "Aren't you going to kiss me hello?" she asked.  Now she was toying with him.  Cautiously, he approached her and gave her a peck on the cheek, backing away quickly.  "Oh, Quentin, after what we had together, surely you can do better than that?" she teased him.</div> <div> "Not if you've still got the same right cross I'm not," he declared, staying right where he was.</div> <div> Angelique laughed, and Quentin smiled, too.  He realized how much he'd missed the sound of her laughter, especially now that he realized she was not the evil creature Barnabas made her out to be.  Deep down inside, she had a feeling heart-she just didn't like people to know it.  "I told you we'd meet again," she said, winking, "when you were free."</div> <div> <I>Oh, God, as if my life isn't already complicated!</I> He thought, horrified, hoping she was kidding.  "I'm not exactly free," he began.</div> <div> "And I didn't exactly mean it that way," Angelique answered, smiling.  "All right, Quentin, you're off the hook.  You know that the only man I've really loved was Barnabas."</div> <div> "I know," he agreed, relieved but wise enough not to show it on his face.  "Come on in, Angelique."  He gestured to the drawing room.  He glanced at her face as she entered, looking around the room.  "I guess it's been a long time since you were here?"</div> <div> "Not that long," she answered softly.  She looked at him a little suspiciously.  "What did Barnabas tell you?"</div> <div> He decided that the whole story wouldn't be wise.  "He said you're married to Sky Rumson."</div> <div> She turned away, her hands clenching.  "I was."</div> <div> "I'm sorry," Quentin said sincerely.  "Barnabas said you love him.  I'm sorry for what happened.  You know what happened to Barnabas, right?"</div> <div> "Yes.  And I know that it was Sky who betrayed him," Angelique replied, her voice sounding ragged.  "I didn't believe Barnabas."  She took a deep breath and turned around to face Quentin, composing herself bravely.  "So you are involved in this, too?  When did you get here?  What have you been up to?"  He gave Angelique a very abbreviated version of his story.  She smiled when he mentioned Amanda.  "Oh, same old Quentin! You'll never stop getting yourself involved in sticky messes, will you?"</div> <div> "What about you?" Quentin retorted.  "You're in sort of a fix right now, too, aren't you?"</div> <div> Angelique shrugged.  "I've come home to my first husband, that is all."</div> <div> "What are you going to do about your second husband?"</div> <div> "I've taken care of that already," Angelique answered, turning and beginning to walk slowly from the room.  "I've killed him." She said over her shoulder.  She began to go up the stairs.  She turned again so that she and Quentin were looking at each other.  He was shocked, but not too surprised.  "I'm really very tired.  I am going upstairs to lie down."</div> <div> Probably on that nice comfortable looking bed, Quentin thought morosely.  He went back into the living room and sat back down in the chair.  Damn Barnabas, damn the Leviathans, and damn Collinsport, he thought.  He was looking at the dying fire moodily when he heard a car pull up.  He got up and looked out the window.  It was Julia, and it looked like she'd brought Chinese food.  God bless Julia, he thought fervently, going to the door.  He was starving again.</div> <div> "Did you get everything you needed?" Quentin asked as she came in.  He moved to help her with the bags.  His mouth watered.  "What did you get?  This smells wonderful!"</div> <div> "A little bit of everything," Julia answered.  "I thought you might be hungry."  They went beyond the drawing room to the dining room.  Quentin set the bags on the table and began to rip into them.  "Quentin, who is our guest?  Surely that car doesn't belong to Willie?"</div> <div> "Er, no, Angelique is here," Quentin answered.  He was opening up the small boxes and tasting.  Julia'd brought them a pu pu platter as well as some chow mein, some steamed vegetables, and something sweet and sour.  "Here."  He found the strips of skewered beef and handed one to Julia.</div> <div> Julia's eyebrows shot up with surprise.  "Angelique!"</div> <div> "Sssh!  She's asleep.  Don't wake her up-we'll have to share."</div> <div> Julia snickered.  "Oh, Quentin!  You really do make me laugh so!"</div> <div> "Yes, I'm a pissa, right?"  Quentin was delighted to see that Julia had brought paper plates and plastic forks and napkins.   She thought of everything, including a thermos of tea this time.</div> <div> "Why is she here?" Julia asked.</div> <div> "She said she killed her husband," Quentin answered.  "She said she didn't believe Barnabas, but obviously now she does."</div> <div> "Something must have happened," Julia said in a wondering tone.</div> <div> "Let's eat," Quentin urged, and they sat down to enjoy their meal, sharing the tea.  By an unspoken agreement, they considerately saved a portion of everything for Angelique.</div> <div> "I saw Willie in Bangor," Julia told Quentin.  "He insisted on coming out tomorrow.  That will give you a break-you can join Amanda for awhile."</div> <div> "Well, thanks, Julia, but I'd rather stay if I can help," Quentin replied, feeling troubled.  He didn't want to abandon his family.  </div> <div> "Do you love her?" Julia asked.</div> <div> Quentin looked down at his plate, fiddling with his food.  "No.  Not really."  He looked at Julia.  "Don't get me wrong, Julia.  She's beautiful.  I know she loves me.  She took care of me when I didn't know who I was.  But-" He stopped and looked at Julia guiltily.</div> <div> "What is it?" Julia asked, kindly.  "I'm your friend, not your judge."</div> <div> Quentin flushed with embarrassment.  She's a great lay, that's what he was thinking, but that seemed to be all there was between them-at least on his part.  "I'm not used to confiding in women friends," he finally answered.  "I wasn't ever close to my sister Judith."</div> <div> "There's a first time for everything," Julia said with a reassuring smile.</div> <div> Quentin looked at her, wanting to confide in her but had no idea where to begin.</div> <div> "Is it just sex between you two?" Julia guessed perceptively.</div> <div> "Not that it isn't good," he said, somewhat relieved.  "It's just that there's that and there's what she's doing and that's about all."</div> <div>  "Maybe you haven't had enough time for talking," Julia suggested.</div> <div> Quentin shrugged.  "Maybe."  He didn't want Julia to think he was a cold-blooded heel.  "Julia, I guess I was just being selfish when I went back for Amanda.  I mean, I've been dreaming about Jenny and Beth, but what if she's not alive anymore? One night stands get tiresome when it just goes on for years and years."</div> <div> "This is more complicated than I realized," Julia answered softly.  She put her hand on Quentin's.  "With everything going on, I'd forgotten that you've actually been wandering around all this time.  Had you been with Beth for most of this time?  I don't understand-she would be very old by now, wouldn't she?"</div> <div> "It is a lot more complicated than you thought," Quentin told her, with a small smile.  "Something happened to Beth that you don't know about-" He was interrupted by a loud thumping at the door.  "What the hell is that?"</div> <div> "I doubt it's Willie," Julia said, getting up.  "He would just come in.  My God!  Maybe it's that Jeb creature!"</div> <div> Quentin jumped up and moved ahead of Julia to go down and answer the door.  He opened the door to a very handsome, well-dressed man of about thirty-five.  The man walked in without being invited, as if he was used to doing as he pleased whenever he wanted.  "Is Angelique Rumson here?" he asked.  His voice had an authoritative tone to it although he didn't sound rude.  </div> <div> Still, old habits die hard and Quentin bristled.  "And just who is calling, may I ask?"</div> <div> There was a step on the stairs and both men looked up and around.  Angelique was coming down, her face very pale but composed.  "It's all right, Quentin, dear," she said.  "That is my husband."</div> <div> Julia had come into the foyer, too, and Quentin sensed her beginning to move forward.  He could guess why and grabbed her arm, shaking his head.  He was surprised; he was sure that if Angelique said she'd killed this man, it was so.  He looked back at the man, who was staring up at Angelique with a pleading look in his eyes.  "I've come to bring you home," he said.</div> <div> Angelique laughed contemptuously.  "You must be mad coming here like this, Sky!  How could you, after everything that has happened?  Have you lost your mind?"</div> <div> "Angelique, I love you," Sky answered in a desperate tone.  "Please-we can forget everything that's happened between us, can't we?  We have something special between us.  We don't have to let it die.  If you would just come back with me, my darling, I'll prove it to you!"</div> <div> "And would you renounce your ties to Jeb Hawkes and reject whatever repulsive bargain you've made with Nicholas Blair?" Angelique demanded coldly.  Sky shot a sudden, frightened glance at Quentin and Julia.  "Can't we talk alone?"</div> <div> Quentin had felt Julia react physically to the second name and held onto her arm.  He looked toward Angelique.  "We'll go if you want us to."</div> <div> Angelique looked coldly haughty, and Quentin wondered how much pain she was concealing.  "That won't be necessary, Quentin, darling," she answered.  That was the second time she'd used an endearment in connection with Quentin's name, and now Sky gave him an angry, suspicious glance.  "They know everything, Sky, and I stand with them.  I ask you again: will you renounce your ties to the Leviathans?"</div> <div> Sky's jaw tightened.   "You know I can't do that."</div> <div> "Then get out!" Angelique spat.  "Next time I will make sure I do the job right!"</div> <div> Quentin made a show of sauntering to the door and opening it, obviously waiting for Rumson to leave.  With a final despairing look at his wife, Rumson turned and walked out.  Quentin slammed the door shut and turned to her.  "I thought you killed him?"</div> <div> "I was mistaken," Angelique answered in a soft, bitter tone.  "I thought I did, too.  This is what love can do to you."</div> <div> Julia stepped forward now.  "Nicholas Blair?" she asked, sounding alarmed.</div> <div> "Who is he?" Quentin asked, wondering what the fuss was about.</div> <div> "He's back," Angelique told Julia flatly.  "I didn't believe Barnabas when he came and told me that Sky had betrayed him.  When Nicholas came, though, I knew it was true.  Nicholas spoke to me.  The Leviathan parent gods are very displeased with Jeb because he's returned the curse to Barnabas and murdered Paul Stoddard.  They want to reclaim him and are astonished to learn that Jeb's more powerful than they imagined.  They decided they needed help and, unfortunately, they've turned to Nicholas for that."</div> <div> "Oh, God," Julia exclaimed.  "Damn him!"</div> <div> "He already is, Julia," Angelique replied in an ironic tone.</div> <div> "Wouldn't that help us?" Quentin asked, confused.</div> <div> "Trust me, darling, Nicholas is no one's ally," Angelique assured him.  "I'm not sure what kind of intrigue he's planning, but I can assure you it will not help us."</div> <div> "You say  `us'," Julia said cautiously.  "Do you really stand with us?"</div> <div> Angelique looked at her steadily.  "Yes, Julia.  I really do."  Quentin, who knew her a little better than Julia, knew that Angelique was fighting to keep her composure.</div> <div> "Are you hungry?" Quentin asked kindly.  "We saved you some Chinese."</div> <div> "Thank you, Quentin," Angelique said, sounding genuinely grateful.</div> <div> As they sat around the table to eat the Chinese food, which was still good at room temperature, Angelique asked a few questions about Barnabas' plans.  Quentin could tell that she was fishing around to find out if Barnabas was seeing anyone.  He and Julia both carefully avoided talking about Maggie.  However, when Angelique got up and excused herself, Julia leaned over and said, "I think it's more important than ever that we try to persuade Maggie to leave town for awhile.  Between Jeb and Angelique-and now Nicholas-I'm afraid she's just not going to be safe here."</div> <div> "Who is this Nicholas Blair anyway?" Quentin asked.</div> <div> Julia explained that Nicholas was a warlock who'd originally come to town when Angelique was posing as Cassandra.  He introduced himself as her brother.  He'd had a wild idea of bringing in a new race of followers for his master, the Dark Lord Diabolos, but had fallen in love with Maggie.  He'd attempted to sacrifice her to Diabolos, and Julia was worried that Nicholas might become obsessed with Maggie again.  There was a slight noise from the other room, and Quentin put his arm on Julia's in warning.</div> <div> He glanced at the door, wondering how long Angelique had been listening.  He said softly, "It's almost dark.  When Barnabas comes up, I'll leave for Collinwood to warn Maggie, all right?"</div> <div> "Yes, thank you Quentin," Julia said gratefully.  She looked toward the window.  "Barnabas should be coming up any time now."</div> <div>       "Why don't we go wait for him in the drawing room?" Quentin suggested.  "He might not like to be surprised."  </div> <div>      Julia agreed.  "I'll clean this up-you go and wait for Barnabas."</div> <div>      When Quentin went into the drawing room, he could already hear his cousin coming up the stairs.  Angelique stood in the entry to the drawing room, looking toward the basement.  From behind, she looked as if she was frozen with anticipation and fear.  Quentin wondered what she was thinking.  "Angelique!" he heard his cousin exclaim softly.</div> <div>      "Oh, Barnabas!" Angelique's voice caught on a sob, and she ran into his arms.  Quentin came to the entryway and saw his cousin embrace her, holding her tightly against his chest.  Their eyes met briefly, and Quentin turned away.  This was a private moment.  He went out the front door and stood on the portico.  He wouldn't be able to stay out here for more than a few minutes without his coat, but he wanted to give Barnabas and Angelique some privacy.</div> <div>      Apparently Julia had had the same idea.  She came around from behind the house, smoking, and stopped when she saw Quentin.  "Where is your coat?" she scolded.  "It's freezing out here!"</div> <div>      "I just came out for some air for a couple of minutes," Quentin explained, laughing at Julia's attitude.  "I'm going to Collinwood.  Are you?"</div> <div>      "I haven't decided.  I think right now I'm just going for a walk," she answered.</div> <div>      "I'll come with you.  Wait a second," he offered.  He thought he might be able to talk with her some more.   Their earlier conversation had been interrupted by Angelique's arrival.</div> <div>      Julia, however, frowned and said a little sharply, "I want to walk alone if you don't mind.  I'm sorry-I'm not trying to be rude, sweetie, I just want to be alone."</div> <div>      "It's okay, I understand," he answered, disappointed.  He thought he did understand, especially if Julia was feeling fed up.  He could certainly understand why she'd feel that way.  He watched Julia walk off down the path and then returned to the house.  Barnabas was alone in the drawing room, brooding.  "Where is Angelique?" Quentin asked.</div> <div>      Barnabas half-turned.  "Upstairs.  She is still upset by this turn of events.  Things have not gone well for her."  His brows drew together.  "She told me that Nicholas Blair is here now.  Do you know who he is?"</div> <div>      "I do now," Quentin replied.  "Julia told me."</div> <div>      "Maggie must leave," Barnabas stated.</div> <div>      "That's what Julia and I thought," Quentin agreed.  "In fact, I was about to go over and talk to her about it."</div> <div>      "That won't be necessary, Quentin," Barnabas objected.  "I'll go.  She trusts me."</div> <div>      <I>Maybe too much</I>, Quentin thought.  "I don't think that's a good idea," he said cautiously.</div> <div>      Barnabas blew up at him, which came as no surprise.  "You are not to tell me what is or is not a good idea, Quentin!  I will decide that-I am in control of myself, do you understand?  I am able to control myself around Maggie.  Now, she trusts me.  We are close friends, and I think I am better able to persuade her to leave Collinsport than you are, Quentin!  I want you to stay here and keep an eye on Angelique!"</div> <div>      Quentin bore Barnabas' anger passively and agreed amiably to stay and watch Angelique.  Of course, he had no intention of doing that and he carefully screened his thoughts.  Barnabas stalked out of the Old House.  Quentin waited a few minutes and then followed his cousin, hoping Barnabas wouldn't double back and catch him.  He went around to the kitchen and surprised Mrs. Johnson this time.  She looked at him as if she thought he was out of his mind, entering the house this way.</div> <div>      Barnabas and Maggie weren't in the drawing room; Quentin peeked out the window and realized that they were in the garden talking.  He watched stealthily and hoped to heaven neither Mrs. Johnson nor anyone else wandered in and caught him spying on his cousin and the governess.  He was sure he'd have a wonderful time trying to explain his way out that one. He watched Barnabas embrace Maggie again and stiffened.  This time, however, Barnabas let her go and backed away from her.  Quentin slowly let his breath out slowly.</div> <div>      Maggie was coming back toward the house, and he turned away from the window.  It was cold in here.  No one had bothered to rekindle the fire that was usually going in the fireplace.  He took a poker and tentatively stuck it into the log to see if it was totally dead.  Nothing happened.  Not a single spark.  It looked as though the fire had been out for hours.  "Quentin?" he half turned, seeing Maggie in the doorway.  "Hello!  I didn't know you were here."</div> <div>      "I was hoping to see Julia," Quentin began lamely.</div> <div>      "She should be here soon," Maggie said, coming into the room.  She crossed her arms around herself.  "It's cold in here, isn't it?  Were you just trying to start the fire?"</div> <div>      "I'm afraid it's out cold," he answered, standing and replacing the poker.  "Listen, I know that Barnabas came to talk to you about this man, this Nicholas Blair.  What are you going to do?"</div> <div>      Maggie walked across the room until she was standing at his side.  "I told Barnabas that I was going to stay.  I won't be run off."</div> <div>      Quentin couldn't help but smile, remembering that he himself had said the same thing before the holidays.  It must have taken every ounce of willpower Barnabas had not to bite her and make her obey.  "You're stubborn, Maggie-like me."</div> <div>      "Barnabas has been my good friend," Maggie replied.  "I'd prefer to think of it as being-loyal."</div> <div> The last coherent thought he had was of the fire suddenly burning in the fireplace.  How had it started?  The hearth had been cold; he'd checked just moments ago, and the fireplace hadn't been used recently.  The only other time he remembered seeing a burst of flame like that had been when either Laura or Angelique had been casting spells.  As he looked into the flames, his thoughts suddenly became scattered until only one overriding one was left: Maggie.  He could feel the blood in his body beginning to heat up.  Maggie--she was so beautiful, so desirable in the firelight; her features looked softened and delicate in the dim glow. He had to keep her safe--and he had to have her.</div> <div>      She turned and looked into his eyes.  He saw his desire reflected back with her own.  She moved into his arms.  "Maggie, oh, Maggie," he whispered huskily. </div> <div>      "My darling," she whispered back, her arms slipping around his neck.  Suddenly she gasped in alarm.</div> <div>      "What is it?" he asked, concerned.</div> <div>      She'd pulled back from him, examining the back of her hand.  "Look!"  He saw a red pitchfork on the back of her hand; it looked like a brand.  She grabbed his hands and turned them over.  "You have one too!" she cried in alarm.</div> <div>      He was shocked and frightened for a moment, but when he looked at her again all he felt was desire overwhelming him.  "It's probably nothing to worry about.  Do you know how beautiful you look to me?"  She met his eyes, and he could see the fear in her receding; now her own desire reflected back at him.  He needed to kiss her.  She had already turned her face up to his to receive his kiss and opened her mouth willingly to him.  It wasn't enough.  He nuzzled her neck, soft and sweet, while his hands found the zipper of her dress and pulled it down.</div> <div>      "What's happening to us?"  Maggie asked just once.  Her face had become very flushed, too, as she responded to his touch.  Her arms were around him too, caressing him.  </div> <div>      He'd unhooked her bra.  "All I know is that you're so beautiful, Maggie, and I need you."</div> <div>      She stepped back.  "But here?"</div> <div>      He left her, went to the doors and shut them.  He locked the doors and pocketed the key.  "I don't think anyone will be coming in now."  He stopped, stunned.  She'd pulled Barnabas' ring off her finger and threw it into the fireplace.  What on earth were they doing?  As soon as their eyes met again, they were back in each other's arms, kissing and fondling each other.  "Quentin," she murmured into his ear.  Her voice was the most desirable and sexy sound he believed he'd ever heard.  He slipped her dress forward, over her shoulders.  She stepped back to help him by holding her arms out so that they slipped easily out of the sleeves.  The dress slipped to the floor.  She pulled the bra off and let it fall onto the dress.  "Now you," she whispered.  She looked like a goddess in the firelight, her breasts perfectly rounded--just as if they'd been created to be cupped by his hands.</div> <div>      She helped him unbutton his shirt, moving slowly and seductively.  He was unbuckling his belt impatiently and unzipping his pants.  Once unbuttoned, he threw his shirt to the floor.  As he turned to face her again, he felt her fingers on his chest, caressing and lightly scratching the surface of his skin.  Her touch was maddening.  He guided her toward the sofa and laid her back.  He knelt on the floor next to her, taking one breast into his mouth.  He cupped the other one with his hand, kneading it and rolling the nipple between his fingers.  She was moaning with pleasure and desire.  One hand reached down inside the waistband of his briefs, inching downward until she had his hard shaft in her hand.  "I can't wait, I want you now," she whispered huskily.</div> <div>      He couldn't wait anymore, either.  He pushed her skirt up, pulling at the waistbands of her stockings and panties.  She maneuvered to help him pull them down and off her legs.  She'd lifted one leg to the top of the sofa to make more room for him to climb onto her.  He pushed his pants and briefs down to far enough to free his engorged penis and far enough for him to move comfortably.  He moved between her legs, sliding easily into her opening.  She was hot and ready.  "Ohhh...." Maggie's face blushed red; the redness moved down her throat and across her breasts.  He felt her climaxing already with his first thrust.</div> <div>      He felt he had to drive himself as deeply into her as he possibly could.   He moved her uplifted leg to his shoulder and heard her gasp.  "Yesss..." Her other leg moved around his waist and buttocks, pulling him into her.   Impassioned, he began thrusting faster and harder.  Suddenly, she lifted her head a little and put her mouth on his own breast.  The sudden touch of her tongue and teeth nipping at his nipple was a mixture of pain and ecstasy.  He could feel his climax coming and couldn't stop himself from uttering a guttural outcry of passion as he came.  Vaguely, he was aware that Maggie was coming again, too.</div> <div>      He fell onto her, totally spent.  Aware of his weight on her thin body, he lifted himself up on one elbow to help support himself.  He leaned down to kiss her again, feeling a deep sense of satisfaction and love for her.  She returned his kiss, putting her arms around his neck.  After a few moments, he whispered, "Let me get off you."  He'd already slid out of her body, and now he got up, pulling his clothes back up.  The satisfaction and love he'd felt was dissipating a little; he realized he was feeling a growing sense of shame.  What if Mrs. Johnson had come to the door and found it locked?  Or one of the other members of the family?</div> <div>      Maggie must've been feeling the same way.  "What have we done?" she whispered.  She seemed surprised at the slickness between her legs and reached for her panties to pull them on quickly.  "And here?  Quentin, anyone might've walked in and seen us!"</div> <div> "I locked the door," he reassured and reminded her, helpfully retrieving her bra and dress for her.  "You're not sorry, are you Maggie?  I wanted you so badly."</div> <div>      "I wanted you, too--like I have never wanted anyone else before in my life," Maggie answered, sounding surprised at herself.  "I just don't understand it..." She'd put her bra on and pulled her dress over her head.  He helped her zip up the back of the dress.  Just touching her through her clothing sent electrical currents coursing through his fingers and throughout his body.  She turned to him and moved back into his arms for an embrace.  They held on to each other tightly for a few moments.  "Quentin," she whispered.  "I think you should unlock the door so that no one wonders."</div> <div>      He nodded and went to the door, unlocking it and opening the doors.  He stepped out into the foyer and looked around.  No one was in sight.  He went back into the drawing room and found Maggie sitting on the sofa they'd just made love on, staring thoughtfully at the flames.  He sat down next to her and pulled her into his arms.  She leaned back against his shoulder and sighed contentedly.</div> <div>      An unwelcome thought came to his mind.  He suddenly felt guilty and ashamed as he remembered Barnabas, his cousin.  He knew that Barnabas loved Maggie and wanted her, yet he had taken her without a thought about how it would hurt Barnabas.  What would Barnabas say?  What would he do?  He didn't like the troubling thoughts and so he began to rationalize.  After all, Barnabas was a danger to Maggie--he was still a vampire.  He couldn't be near her without feeling tempted to take advantage of her warm feelings toward him. After all, Quentin had caught Barnabas trying to bite Maggie once already! He probably wouldn't be able to control himself once he had her under his thrall.  He would drain her life away as he took her blood.  She would pale, sicken, wither and die, only to rise--another needy vampire.  She'd end up being hunted, too.  With that thought in mind, he said softly, "We should talk to Barnabas."</div> <div>      "Yes," she agreed faintly.</div> <div>      "Do you want me to?" he asked.  He wondered what Barnabas would do.  As much as he loved his cousin, he was also intimidated by him and didn't relish the thought of telling Barnabas he'd just been cuckolded.  </div> <div>      As if she realized it, too, Maggie answered:  "No, you'd better let me do it."  Inwardly, he sighed with relief. "I feel so disloyal," Maggie added, sounding miserable and guilty.</div> <div>      He'd just felt that way, too, and understood.  "Please don't feel that way.  You know how understanding Barnabas is."  He hoped so, fervently.  "We can't help the chemistry between us.  He has to accept that."</div> <div>      "Yes," she said softly, sounding doubtful.</div> <div>      He continued trying to reassure her.  "We're not turning our backs on Barnabas. We can still help him fight against Jeb." He felt his concern for Maggie rising again.  He lifted her head from his shoulder so that he could look at her.  He said urgently: "My love, you have to be very careful.  If Jeb ever found out that you were with us, fighting him, he would try to kill you.  I couldn't bear it!  I wish you weren't involved in all this."</div> <div>      "There's no help for that," Maggie answered.  She rested her head on Quentin's shoulder again.  "He's always hated me. I don't know what he was expecting when he made me look into the box.  Maybe he thought it would kill me; maybe he just thought it would put me under his control.  Luckily for us, it didn't do either."</div> <div>      "Let me know next time he calls for you, will you?  I'm just afraid he'll tire of hearing that Barnabas isn't telling you about our plans and end up trying to hurt you.  I couldn't bear to lose you, Maggie.  I've been so lonely, and now--after this--I just couldn't stand it, that's all."  The words sounded false in Quentin's ears.  He hadn't been lonely!</div> <div>      Touched, Maggie moved to kiss him again, very softly.</div> <div>      What in the hell have we done?  He thought suddenly.  He felt his body turn cold as ice and sat up, horrified.  For the first time, he thought of Beth--why hadn't he thought of her before?  He'd always thought of her first before having sex with someone, wondering if she was alive and if she would understand his need to be with someone. He thought of Amanda next.  What the hell was I doing?  I don't even know Maggie, and even worse--I never would've chosen her to have sex with because I would never want to hurt Barnabas. Maggie sat up, too, her eyes wide with astonishment.  She looked at the back of her hand.  The strange mark was gone.  Once again, she grabbed his hand and turned it over.  His mark was gone too.  "The marks are gone.  What happened?"</div> <div>      "I don't know.  How bizarre," he said, puzzled.  The shame was overwhelming.  They'd just rutted on the sofa like a couple of animals.  They hadn't even had the decency to go to a bedroom and hadn't even bothered to remove all their clothes. </div> <div>      Maggie apparently felt the same.  She moved back from him, her face becoming a bright red.  "My God," she whispered, sounding as horrified and ashamed as he felt.  "What have we done?  I don't feel the same way at all."</div> <div>      He swallowed, hard.  "I don't either," he agreed, very uncomfortable.</div> <div>      "How could it be over so quickly?" she wondered.  She covered her face with her hands.  "Oh, I've never behaved like that before.  I am so ashamed!  It must have been those marks--they caused us to feel the way we did and to do what we did!  It's a punishment!"</div> <div>      He moved to comfort her, reaching out to touch her on the shoulder.  "Maybe it wasn't that.  Maybe it was just something that clicked between us when we looked at each other."</div> <div>      "Clicked?  Like a light switch? What a thing to say!"</div> <div>      "I think it was just the firelight, Maggie. I think it was just a one time thing," he said, and almost immediately realized it was the wrong thing to say.</div> <div>      She looked furious.  "This may have been just a casual encounter for you, Quentin, but not for me!  I have never, ever done this before in my whole life--and you've probably had a great deal of experience with one-night stands!  Well, I won't let it happen again."</div> <div>      He was angry, too, but at himself.  Still, he got up abruptly.  "Don't worry," he snapped at her.  "I won't try.  I have no idea why I did it this time."  He looked at her, once so very desirable and precious to him.  "I'm not generally attracted to your type."  He realized he was hurting her but didn't care.  Her eyes were filling with tears of anger, guilt, and pain.  He didn't want to comfort her.  "I'd better go," he said, feeling extremely uncomfortable and guilty.  "Look, for what it's worth, I think Barnabas was right.  I think you should get out of here.  Leave Collinwood.  Leave Collinsport, before it's too late."</div> <div>      She gritted her teeth and managed to speak through the tears.  "I will never do that, never!  I have already betrayed Barnabas by...by... doing this...with you!  I won't betray him again!"</div> <div>      "All right.  I tried to warn you," he said, turning to leave.  Then he stopped and turned back.  "Look, I feel like I've betrayed Barnabas, too.  I won't tell--never."</div> <div>      She was hugging herself tightly, looking down at the floor now.  Tears were flowing freely.  "Thank you," she whispered.</div> <div>      He left, closing the doors of the drawing room behind him.  As soon as he did, he leaned back against them, breathing deeply.  He felt momentarily overwhelmed and felt rising panic.  How could he have done such a thing to Barnabas?  He was glad that it was Julia's turn to watch over Barnabas; she'd be with him now.  He was sure she was done with her walk, and she would stay with him at the Old House during the day--until Willie what's-his-name showed up.  He knew he couldn't face Barnabas tonight; he wondered how he'd be able to face him tomorrow evening?  Barnabas would be able to see through him--Quentin hadn't been able to fool him in 1897 when he denied seeing Petofi.</div> <div>      He squared his shoulders.  Well, he wasn't going to tell Barnabas.  He'd promised not to, and if he could get away with it he was going to stick to that promise.  If Barnabas somehow suspected or found out, he'd just have to take whatever happened.  He deserved to--there was no question about that. He almost hoped Barnabas would find out--or that Beth would suddenly appear and reproach him.  He felt the need to be punished, or else he was afraid it would happen again.  He shuddered and suddenly felt a strong desire to get drunk.  Going to the Blue Whale would be the fastest way to accomplish that goal.   He went to the phone in the foyer and called a cab.</div> <div>      Quentin was quite drunk by the time he returned to his room at the Inn.  He could barely make it up the stairs without help.  He clung to the banister and pulled himself along, step by step.  It was a good thing he had his key with him this time.  The idea of rousing the clerk was very unappealing.  He fumbled with the key, trying to fit it into the lock. Shit! Come on, he thought, fiddling with the key.  It fell to the floor. Fuck! He thought, aggravated.  As he bent to pick it up, he was shocked when the door opened.</div> <div>      "Quentin, what on earth--?" Amanda stood there in the door, wearing a long flowing gown.     He was so shocked to see her, he staggered backwards and nearly fell.  She reached out and grabbed him, steadying him.  "For God's sake, you're stinking drunk!"  She managed to scoop up the key with one hand, and half supported him into the room.  "Come on, right back to the bedroom," she said.</div> <div>      "Wh-wha're you doin here?" he asked drunkenly.  Nothing worse could happen now unless Barnabas was in the bedroom waiting with shotgun.</div> <div>      "Why, baby, the taping finished earlier than I thought-my part, anyway, and so I decided to fly up and surprise you.  I had no idea you were going on a bender.  Did you miss me that much?" Amanda was saying.  <I>Oh, sweet Jesus,</I> Quentin thought, completely dismayed.</div> <div>      Amanda pushed him down on the bed, wrinkling her nose.  "What have you been doing?" she asked suddenly, her eyes narrowing.  She leaned down, beginning to undress him.  She started with his shirt.  "I know you won't be able to do anything tonight.  I guess you're going to be awfully sick tomorrow with all that stuff you drank."  She stopped suddenly, staring at his throat.</div> <div>      "Wha? Whassamatta?" he asked.  He wanted to tell her that this was all a mistake and that she should go back to New York, but he knew he wouldn't make any sense.  Maybe in the morning he could reason with her.  He fell back on the bed, the side of his face exploding with pain.  "Whafuck?" He didn't realize that she had hit him until he felt more blows raining on his face and chest.</div> <div> His reflexes were very slow but he finally managed to get his hands up to protect his face.  "Amanda!"</div> <div>      "Who did you fuck, you miserable son of a bitch!" she was screaming at him as she slapped at his shoulders and chest now.  "I can smell her on you, you bastard!  How could you do this to me!"  She was becoming hysterical, her blows ineffective as she lost her focus.  The bed shifted, and she got up abruptly.</div> <div>      Quentin lowered his hands cautiously and then threw his arms up again as she threw her suitcase toward him.  As she flung some clothes into the suitcase she called him the worst names he'd ever heard, using words he himself had never used against anyone.  He felt deeply ashamed of himself and made no move to stop her or defend himself even though she'd interrupt herself to hit him with some object in her hand-a brush, her make-up case, a shoe.  She gave him a parting shot with her handbag.  "I never should've trusted you!" she wept.  "You have no idea what I've given up for you, you lousy bastard!"  She slammed the doors on her way out.</div> <div>      <I>I have fucked everything up but good</I>, Quentin thought miserably.  His stomach began to heave and he got up, making it to the bathroom just in time.  He vomited several times; he felt as if he'd consumed a gallon of scotch or whatever it was he'd been drinking at the Blue Whale. When he was finally able to straighten up, he washed his face and mouth in the sink and then looked up into the mirror.  His face was puffy from Amanda's slaps.  Looking down at himself, he saw marks all over his arms and chest.  All of that would be gone by morning.  The damage done to Amanda's feelings though-that had to be irreparable.  </div> <div>      I didn't want to end with her this way, Quentin thought.  He stumbled back to the bed, managed to remove the rest of his clothes and fell onto the bed.  What the hell got into me?  As with many people who have had too much to drink, he suddenly began to cry, grieving not only for Amanda, but for Barnabas, and Maggie and above all, for Beth and himself.  He cried until he became exhausted and passed out.</div> <div>      Eventually, the ringing of the phone penetrated his senses and Quentin came to.  He fumbled around until he reached the receiver and put it to his ear.  "H'lo?" he mumbled into the phone.</div> <div>      "Quentin, it's Julia-Quentin, are you all right?"</div> <div>      "I might still be drunk, but'm all right. Whassamatta?" Even though he felt fuzzy headed, he could still detect the urgency in Julia's tone.</div> <div>      "I'm driving Maggie to Bangor.  Can you come and stay with Barnabas today while I'm gone?"</div> <div>      He rubbed his eyes wearily.  "Sure.  Y'need me t'come out now?"</div> <div>      "If you don't mind-please, it would help a lot."</div> <div>      He realized what she'd said about Maggie.  "What happened to Maggie?" he asked, making an effort to speak clearly.  He felt frightened, sure he'd been found out-or at least, part of the secret was out.</div> <div>      Julia lowered her voice.  "Jeb tried to kill Willie and Maggie last night.  Paul Stoddard saved them."</div> <div>      His eyes flew wide open.  That was the last thing he expected.   "<I>What!</I> " he exclaimed.  "What happened after I left?"</div> <div>      "Well, it looks like Amy and Mrs. Stoddard lured Maggie to the tower room.  Willie Loomis-I told you about him-had just arrived at Collinwood and he was suspicious by Mrs. Stoddard's attitude toward him.  He was supposed to go to the Old House, but he decided to hang around outside.  It was a good thing he did.  Amy came out of the house and went to the other entrance to the tower. Willie followed her in and heard her taunting Maggie."</div> <div>      <I>Amy!</I>  Quentin thought, confused. <I>Why would that kid do such a thing?</I>  He wished he hadn't gotten so drunk trying to concentrate on what Julia was saying.  "Well, Willie waited until Amy left, and then he went upstairs and managed to pick the lock.  Maggie was terrified-Mrs. Stoddard `knew about her' she told Willie."</div> <div>      Quentin felt his blood run cold.  "How did she find out?" he asked, hoarsely.  He remembered opening the door and sitting with Maggie after-afterwards.  He felt himself growing hot again with shame at the memory of what they'd done.  He remembered saying that they could still help Barnabas and fight Jeb.  <I>My god, what if Elizabeth overheard us talking?</I></div> <div>      "I have no idea," Julia answered, sounding puzzled.  "They could hear something approaching. There was an odor in the air-Jeb, in his transformed state.  And then, they heard Jeb outside screaming. `Go away, go away! You can't hurt me!'  Something like that.  Willie opened the door and briefly described a figure just outside the door-white hair and a moustache.  He's never met Paul.  I'm assuming it was Carolyn's father."</div> <div>      "I'm sure you're right," Quentin whispered.  "Thank God he was around!"  <I>Good God, on top of everything else I almost got Maggie killed!</I>  </div> <div>      "Well, Willie came to get me.  Maggie was terrified, poor thing.  Willie will go to Bangor to pick up some of his things.  Barnabas and I tried to persuade him not to come back, but he's insistent on helping so…anyway, it didn't seem right to make his situation worse by taking Maggie with him, so I said I would drive her there for a few days, possibly longer."</div> <div>      "I see." Quentin sat up, his head throbbing.  "All right, Julia, I'll get dressed and come over.  Where?  The Old House or Collinwood?"</div> <div>      "We're at Collinwood.  Maggie and I will wait here until you come, and then we'll go to the Old House so I can introduce you to Willie before we go."</div> <div>      "All right.  I'll be there as fast as I can," Quentin said, standing up.  He felt woozy and a little dizzy but he would get dressed and get going as soon as he could, no matter how badly he felt.  Hanging up, he thought about Amanda.  She might be back at her apartment in New York.  <I>I should call her</I>, he thought guiltily.  <I>I should explain…what?  What would I tell her?  She's better off without me.</I>  Resolutely, he began to get dressed.  He didn't call Amanda.  When he went down to the desk to leave his key, the clerk gave him an envelope that had just been delivered-it was from Dan Powell and probably contained a preliminary report about Amanda's family.</div> <bR> <div>      Mrs. Johnson admitted Quentin with her usual dour expression and brought him to the drawing room.  She explained Dr. Hoffman and Maggie would be down in a moment with her bags.  Roger was in the drawing room reading the paper and having some coffee.  He looked up, did a little double take, and then seemed to resolve to be polite.  "Why, hello, Quentin.  I think this is the first chance I've had to see you since the funeral.  I understand you've been very kind to my niece and I'm grateful."</div> <div>      "It wasn't anything special, and she's easy to be kind to," Quentin answered, feeling a little uncomfortable.</div> <div>      "Would you like some coffee?  You look a little pale.  Late night party?"</div> <div>      Quentin laughed.  He thought that Roger might have looked a little pale himself some mornings.  "I think I would," he said.</div> <div>      "I was just trying to think how you and I would be related," Roger remarked, and Quentin looked at him, slightly alarmed.  "If you and Carolyn are fourth cousins, I suppose we are third cousins?"</div> <div>      "I guess," Quentin replied, sipping at the coffee tentatively.  "I don't understand how all the relationships work.  Someone tried to explain it to me once, but I guess I've forgotten most of it."</div> <div>      "Did your parents ever talk to you about Collinsport?" Roger asked curiously.  "Did you grow up in Chicago?"</div> <div>      "Uh, no, but I lived there for many years.  And in New Orleans, too.  I'm afraid I didn't have much chance to talk to my parents or grandparents about this branch of the family.  I don't think I'd be too helpful there."  Quentin wished he could think of a way to change the subject; he was becoming really uncomfortable.</div> <div>      "Your great-grandfather is a complex, fascinating man," Roger went on, oblivious to Quentin's discomfort.  "He could be cruel, my father told me.  Sometimes he was frightening when he went into one of his rages.  He may have committed a murder, too-I'm not sure if my father was exaggerating or not."</div> <div>      <I>Gee, thanks, Jamison,</I> Quentin thought resentfully.  "From the way you describe him, he doesn't sound like such a great person to be descended from," he said ruefully.</div> <div>      "Oh, I'm sorry," Roger exclaimed, as if realizing he might have offended Quentin.  "I didn't mean for you to think that.  I merely meant that your great-grandfather certainly was a fascinating man.  I wish there was more information about him.  My father didn't talk to me very often.  When he did, he usually brought up his Uncle Quentin." Roger's voice took on a sad tone.  "I think my father wasn't sure how he felt about his uncle, just as I am not sure how I feel about my father."</div> <div>      At that, Quentin looked over at his cousin, surprised.  He remembered calling Collinwood weekly after Ruth was killed.  Edward was worried about Jamison's drinking and the fact that he took no interest in his son.  It was something that never changed, apparently, and Quentin regretted that he'd never tried to contact Jamison or his children after he'd returned to the States.  "When did your father die?" he asked, curiously.  He remembered vaguely it was some time after the war.</div> <div>      "Oh, it was 1947, I think.  I had already angered him considerably with my behavior.  We weren't speaking.  I wasn't here when he died."  The regret and sorrow in Roger's voice hung in the air between the two men.  <I>I know how it feels to have regrets,</I> Quentin thought, thinking of both his brother Edward and nephew Jamison now.  He wished there was some way he could share that with Roger, and tried to think up a phony relative he could use.  </div> <div>      Just then, Julia and Maggie appeared in the doorway.  Quentin stood.  Roger looked up briefly and asked, "Ready to go, then?"</div> <div>      Quentin and Maggie looked at each other briefly and then away; both of them were deeply embarrassed.  "Yes," Maggie said very softly.  "Thank you for understanding, Roger."</div> <div>      "Yes, well, your aunt is sick and of course you must go to her," Roger answered, just a trifle brusquely.    Maggie nodded, mumbled that she would wait outside for Julia, and left with her bag.</div> <div> Quentin wondered if Roger was thinking of his father again.  He set his coffee cup down and stood up.  "I'll walk with you to the car.  I need to go to the Old House and see Barnabas.  Thanks for the coffee, Roger."</div> <div> "It was good of you to come by, Quentin.  Please come around and visit more often," Roger answered.  He and Quentin shook hands.  Another barrier down, Quentin thought, feeling relieved.  Loud music filled the room.  Quentin recognized it immediately and froze, shocked.  It was the melody he used to like to play on his gramophone when he lived here so many years ago.  Who was playing the music now? "Oh, good lord!" Roger exclaimed irritably.  He stalked out into the hallway.  "David!  Amy!" he called loudly, to be heard over the music.</div> <div> Julia and Maggie recognized the music, too, Quentin could see by their expressions.  He had a strong urge to run and just managed to control himself, swallowing hard and trying to slow down his breathing rate.  He felt light-headed.  After a few moments, Amy skipped into the room, followed by Roger.  "Amy!" he called, sounding exasperated.</div> <div> The little girl, so charmingly innocent looking with her long hair in pigtails, beamed at Quentin and asked, "Did you like the music I was playing?  I heard from David that you like music!"</div> <div> Quentin felt that everyone was watching him.  He managed to answer, a little hoarsely, "Yes, it was nice.  What was it?"</div> <div> "An old song.   All the people who used to listen to it are dead, though."  Amy looked right into his eyes in a challenging way.  <I>I know who you really are.</I></div> <div> "We have had quite enough of this," Roger said sternly.  "I don't want you to play that music again.  It's very old and fragile.  Come along with me-since you have nothing better to do, let's find a good book for you to read."  He took Amy by the hand and led her from the room, but not before Amy cast one final, knowing glance at Quentin.  </div> <div> He was shaking inwardly.  "Julia, she knows who I am," he said, feeling panicky.</div> <div> Julia put her hand on his arm to reassure him.  "It's probably just a coincidence, sweetie.  She was terrified of Quentin-the ghost."</div> <div> "Maybe, but things are different now," Quentin pointed out, feeling a little steadier.  "After all, didn't she and Mrs. Stoddard plot to get Maggie into that tower room?"</div> <div> Julia frowned.  "She is different, that's true."</div> <div> "And you didn't see how she looked at me, Julia.  I'm telling you, that kid knows that I'm the same one!"</div> <div> "That may be so," Julia conceded.  "She can't prove it, though.  You're obviously alive.  There is no way she could prove that you are really the only Quentin."</div> <div> "I guess," he agreed.  It didn't make him feel any better.  Worse, the child had spooked him.  He couldn't remember a child ever looking at him with such cold deliberation and wondered if that was a manifestation of the Leviathan possession.  He couldn't imagine that she was really like that-not a child!  He went out to the car with Julia reluctantly. He still felt awful about what happened last night.  He wished he could just go to the Old House alone to meet this Willie person but reluctantly climbed into the back seat.  Maggie was already seated in the front passenger seat, looking pale and worried.</div> <div> "Everyone is so quiet this morning," Julia remarked.</div> <div> "I have a bit of a hangover," Quentin explained.</div> <div> "I'm feeling guilty," Maggie put in.  Quentin looked up at her, alarmed.  However, she continued, "I don't like to leave while Barnabas is still in trouble."</div> <div> "I understand, Maggie, but you know that Barnabas would never forgive himself if anything happened to you," Julia said.  They were almost at the Old House, and Julia stopped the car and parked.  </div> <div> A slightly built man in his early thirties came out onto the portico. His face brightened considerably when he saw Maggie.  He came forward to greet them.  "Hey, how are ya, Maggie?" he asked.  He and Maggie looked at each other and smiled shyly.  His gaze shifted to Julia and then to Quentin.  "Hi, Julia.  And I guess you're the new cousin, Quentin, huh?  Willie Loomis."  He held his hand out to Quentin, who shook it.</div> <div> Quentin wasn't sure what to make of Willie.  He was slight but solidly built.  He seemed to have a nervous twitch, though, and was constantly in motion.  He was making Quentin nervous.</div> <div> "Well, we'd better get going," Julia said finally, and she and Maggie turned back toward the car.  </div> <div> There was another, used car parked nearby.  Willie glanced over at Quentin.  "I just need t'get my stuff.  C'mon in."  Quentin smiled to himself as he followed Willie indoors, being invited in by a servant of all things!  Willie shut the door behind them, giving Quentin a doubtful look.  "Ya sure ya know what to do, huh?"</div> <div> "I've done it several times already.  I know what I'm doing!"</div> <div> Willie bristled.  "Okay, okay!  Ya gotta understand, Barnabas is somebody special.  I just wanna make sure before I go, see?"</div> <div> Quentin thought he did see.  Very touching.  "It's all right, really," he said softly.  "I know how to protect Barnabas."</div> <div> Willie nodded.  His bag was near the coat rack.  He picked it up and turned toward the door.   "I'll try to be back tonight.  Tomorrow, maybe, at the latest."</div> <div> "Okay, take your time.  Barnabas will be all right-really."  Quentin walked Willie to the door and shut it.  He wasn't sure what to make of the guy-he didn't seem very much like Sandor.  Barnabas had bitten Sandor and kept him in service to protect him during the daytime.  Willie didn't seem the protector type.</div> <div> After Willie left, Quentin settled himself in one of the chairs and opened the letter from the investigator.  He frowned as he read.  Where ever Amanda had come from, it didn't look like it was New York-at least, no officially.  Although Amanda claimed not to remember anything before 1895, she did remember being in New York City and that was the information Quentin had provided to begin with.  He assumed Amanda might have had some kind of accident, causing amnesia, but that perhaps she had family somewhere in the state.  Powell had gone back as far as 1860 and as far forward as 1877, and there was no match anywhere in New York: no birth certificate or any other document showing that Amanda had been born.  Of course, she could have been adopted or a midwife or a country doctor who kept poor records could have delivered her.</div> <div> <I>So it's not going to be so easy finding her family for her</I>, he thought regretfully.  He was sorry for the way things had ended between them and hoped that he might at least be able to give her a family.  <I>If it wasn't for all this other stuff going on, I could spend some time with her-until I found Beth again, anyway.</I>  He realized that kind of reasoning was wrong but brushed it aside.  Besides, it was over-Amanda made that very plain.  He folded the letter up and tossed it aside, looking up at the portrait of his cousin.  <I>How do you manage to stand all the pain and still go on?</I> He wondered.  Someone knocked sharply at the door, startling Quentin out of his reverie.</div> <div> He was surprised to see Roger standing on the portico and invited him in.  Roger looked very troubled and came into the foyer.  "I was looking for Barnabas, Quentin.  Is he here?"</div> <div> "No, I'm sorry, he had to go-well, he went to Bangor with Julia and Maggie," Quentin lied.</div> <div> Roger grimaced.  "I see.  All right, I just thought I would stop by and talk to him.  I'll just continue with my walk."</div> <div> "Something's troubling you, isn't it?" Quentin guessed, reluctant to just have Roger leave looking so unhappy.</div> <div> Roger looked at Quentin directly.  "It shows so clearly, does it?  Yes, I am very worried and I was hoping to talk to Barnabas, but-" He gave Quentin an appraising look and Quentin could just imagine what he was thinking: young<I> man, no children, no strong family ties, no responsibilities.</I></div> <div> "Want a drink?" Quentin offered.  There was a rumble of thunder outside.  Both men heard it.</div> <div> That seemed to decide it for Roger.  "Yes, I would like a drink, thank you.  I don't know if Barnabas has scotch."</div> <div> "There's some Pinch-will that do?"</div> <div> "Yes, that's fine, thanks-on the rocks, if you don't mind, Quentin."</div> <div> "You <I>are</I> worried," Quentin remarked.  He wondered if Barnabas had any ice in his icebox.  Hope so, he thought.  "Be right back."  He found some ice, much to his relief, and came back to the drawing room with Roger's drink.  </div> <div> Roger was already sitting in one of the chairs, and Quentin sat across from him.  "You know, I was thinking you might be a good person to confide in," Roger began.  "You're a member of the family-a distant one, that is true.  But that would give you a different perspective on things here since this is all new to you."</div> <div> "I'd be glad to listen."  Quentin thought that Roger looked like a man in serious need of a confidant, and he was secretly pleased that his cousin was confiding in him. As Roger started to speak, Quentin had a quick flash of a memory: he remembered holding three-week-old Roger in his arms.  How proud Jamison had been of his infant son.   Was it just Ruth's death that soured things between Roger and his father?  It was a shame, a real shame.</div> <div> He listened to Roger, who was deeply concerned about what was happening at Collinwood.  "I'm especially worried about my sister.  She is so different towards me.  I'm not saying that we've been the best of friends, God knows we've had our share of fights.  It's just that she's always been so sensible-so much more than I have.  I don't understand why she's allowed that Jeb Hawkes and Mrs. Todd to move onto the Estate.  I asked her about it, and she says we've got the space.  Besides, she says, Carolyn is fond of Jeb.  She's not concerned about the nightmares Carolyn has about him!"</div> <div> "Carolyn has nightmares about Jeb?" Quentin asked innocently.  "She couldn't be fond of him, then, could she?"</div> <div> "That's exactly <I>my</I> point!" Roger declared, give Quentin an approving look.  "I was there when Barnabas came over the other evening and suggested a trip to Boston for Carolyn and David.  Elizabeth and I had quite an argument over that.  She refused to allow Carolyn to go.  I just cannot understand <I>why</I>!  I almost had the feeling that she no longer trusts Barnabas!  She says I'm being melodramatic!"  Roger stopped speaking abruptly, looking hurt.</div> <div> "Your niece is having nightmares about this guy, Jeb.  I've met him, and I wasn't impressed.  I don't think he's any good for Carolyn.  Now you tell me your sister is having this guy and Mrs. Todd-whose husband's accused of killing your brother-in-law-move onto the estate.  I don't think you're being melodramatic, Roger," Quentin told him quietly.  Roger looked at him with an expression that was half relief, half fear.  <I>He was half hoping he was wrong,</I> Quentin thought.  <I>He's glad I'm backing him, but he doesn't know what to do about it.</I></div> <div> "And this desecration of Paul Stoddard's grave-my God!" Roger continued softly, in a voice filled with horror and disbelief.  "God knows I had no love for the man, but for this to happen-it is just so bizarre!  There is something wrong with my sister-and with the children, too.  I wish I knew what it was!"</div> <div> Quentin considered.  <I>Should I tell him?  If I tell him, his life will be in danger.  Barnabas and Julia might not want him involved.  But if I don't tell him-after everything he's confided to me, well, it just wouldn't be fair.  He has a right to know if he wants to know what the truth is.</I>  He took a deep breath and asked, very seriously, "Do you really want to know what it is?"</div> <div> Roger drew himself up in his chair.  He looked angry now.  "You know what it is, don't you?"</div> <div> "Yes, I do.  And you're right-something is very wrong with your sister and your son and a lot of other people-"</div> <div> Roger interrupted:  "And why was this kept a secret from me?"</div> <div> "Because knowing the truth would put your life in danger.  Barnabas wanted to protect you from that," Quentin explained.  "You know there's something wrong, so I think you have a right to know what it is-if you're really sure you want to know."</div> <div> Roger's jaw tightened.  "If my son's life is in danger, of course I want to know.  Please tell me what it is."</div> <div> "I will," Quentin promised.  "Look, why don't I fix us another drink first?  It's a long story."  Roger was agreeable, and Quentin managed to scrape some more ice out of the icebox.  He made more drinks for them both and then sat down and told Roger everything-except for what had happened to Barnabas. He also didn't tell Roger that he was the original Quentin.  When he finished telling the story, he studied Roger's face in the growing dimness of the late afternoon light.</div> <div> "I had no idea," Roger whispered finally.  "To think that David and Liz are involved in something this horrible!  I must take them all away-now!"  He began to get up.</div> <div> Quentin stood up, too.  "That might not be the best thing to do, Roger.  That might be signing their death warrants."  Roger's face blanched.  "Look, don't do anything like that, please.  We're kind of walking a tightrope here, and we don't want to all fall-you know what I mean?"  </div> <div> Roger nodded.  "What should I do?"</div> <div> "Well, I'm glad you know.  It's not so easy for us fighting these things alone, you know," Quentin told him, and Roger seemed to puff up a little.  Quentin had a feeling that Roger didn't hear he was needed very often.  "Can you go back and pretend like you don't know anything?"</div> <div> Roger drew himself up haughtily.  "Of course I can."  He smiled grimly at Quentin.  "I've secrets of my own that I've kept for a long, long time."<I>  I'll bet you do,</I> thought Quentin.  Roger reached out and took his hand, grasping it firmly.  "Thank you for telling me everything.  I'm going to go back, before Liz begins to wonder what's happened.  We don't want her to become suspicious.  You'll tell Barnabas I was here?"</div> <div> "Yes," said Quentin.  "I'll tell him."  He walked Roger to the door.  As he watched Roger walking back toward Collinwood, he had very mixed feelings about all this.  He hoped Barnabas wouldn't be angry with him for confiding the story to Roger.  He was relieved to see that he had a reprieve: Willie returned before dusk.  Quentin had begun to pace restlessly, bored and hungry.</div> <div> Willie came into the foyer carrying a couple of suitcases.  "Hey!" he called to Quentin.  "Everythin all right here today?"</div> <div> "Fine.  Everything's quiet," Quentin picked up his coat.  "Look, now that you're back, do you mind if I just split?  I'm kinda hungry."</div> <div> "Nah, you go ahead.  You want me to tell Barnabas anything?"</div> <div> Quentin thought about it and decided to take the coward's way out for a change.  "Yes-tell him Roger's with us."</div> <div> Willie's eyes popped a little.  "Oh yeah?"  He looked impressed.</div> <div> "Yeah.  Make sure you tell him that Roger's cool with it, all right?"</div> <div> "Okay, sure."  Willie agreed.  Quentin pulled his coat on and went out.  Barnabas might be rising any time.  The rain had stopped, but it was still cloudy and becoming dark.  Without the sun, he might get up earlier than usual.  Quentin walked toward Chris' cottage.</div> <div> Chris answered the door after a few minutes.  Quentin could see that Sabrina was there, too, sitting on the couch.  "Sorry, I would have called but there's no phone at the Old House," he apologized.  "I just wanted to see if you wanted to grab something to eat."</div> <div> Chris looked toward Sabrina.  "You want to?" he asked her.</div> <div> "That would be nice," Sabrina said, a little unsteadily.</div> <div> Quentin was sure they'd been arguing.  Well, maybe it would do them good to get out for awhile.  "You have a car?" Chris asked, and Quentin shook his head, no.  He would have to get down to the city and get his bike-hopefully Amanda hadn't sold it out from under him.  </div> <div> They ate at a diner, and the argument between Chris and Sabrina nearly erupted again.  Sabrina had a new body wave and some kind of a makeover, Quentin noticed.  He remarked on it, and Sabrina smiled.  "Carolyn talked me into it."  She cast a glance at Chris.  "There isn't much point in making myself look nice, though."</div> <div> "Sabrina!" Chris said warningly, glowering.  He looked at Quentin and said in a low, tense voice, "Look!  You know how it is-maybe you can reason with her.  You know what?  I transform at the drop of a hat now, it seems!  Julia thinks that maybe stress has something to do with it-she's taking blood samples.  Would you marry someone under those circumstances?"</div> <div> "No," Quentin answered honestly.  Sabrina looked away, struggling to control her tears.  "Look, that never happened to me-in between the moon, I mean.  It doesn't make sense, but if what Julia says is true, then maybe there's some hope, right?"  He looked at Chris worriedly.  "So you never know when?"</div> <div> "The only time I can be sure is when it's supposed to happen," Chris answered harshly, in a soft voice.  "I don't always change back the next day, even."</div> <div> "What do you do when it happens?" Quentin asked.</div> <div> "Call Julia, right now," Chris answered.  "If I can't make it, I go to the mausoleum."</div> <div> Quentin was very tempted to tell Chris about Jeb.  He hesitated only because he'd already told Roger the whole thing.  <I>Maybe I better check with Julia and Barnabas first,</I> he thought.  They might want to try and get Chris to go out of town without telling him the whole story.  Quentin knew that Barnabas preferred not to have too many people involved.  For that reason, he held his peace and regretted it long afterwards.</div> <DIV ALIGN="LEFT"></DIV> <div> <A HREF="id118.htm" TARGET="_top" TITLE="9: Jebs Curse"><U>9:  Jeb's Curse</U></A>  <A HREF="id120.htm" TARGET="_top" TITLE="11: Carrying the Weight"><U>11:  Carrying the Weight</U></A></div> <div> <A HREF="index.htm" TARGET="_top" TITLE="Cassies Writing"><U>Cassie's Writing</U></A></div> <bR> <bR> <bR> <bR> <bR> </td> </tr></table></body>