13: Barnabas' Crisis

<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><A HREF="id119.htm" TARGET="_top" TITLE="10: Spell of Jealousy"><U><B>10:  Spell of Jealousy</B></U></A><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><B>13:  Barnabas' Crisis</B><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>13:  Barnabas' Crisis</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 slept dreamlessly and deeply, and would have gone on sleeping if he hadn't felt someone shaking his shoulder.  "Quentin!"  He wasn't sure who it was; groggy, he began to open his eyes and lift his head to look around.  The pain in his head was still there, although considerably lessened.  He groaned.  The shoulder shaking continued.  "Quentin, wake up, there's not much time!"     He realized it was Barnabas, and he jumped and pulled away, despite the pain in his head.  "Don't be frightened of me--I am not going to hurt you," Barnabas sounded sad and resigned.  "I'm not angry with you, but we need to talk."  He sat down on the chair Julia left.</div> <div>      Lying on his stomach, Quentin groaned again and hid his face in his arms.  "I don't know what to say to you.  I'm sorry.  That's so inadequate--I feel like a Judas.  If I could get my hands on Angelique, I'd like to kill her.   I am sorry, Barnabas--you believe that, don't you?"</div> <div>      "Of course.  I don't blame you for the spell--I blame Angelique.  Do you love Maggie?"</div> <div>      "She's nice--she's attractive and a lot of fun, but...no, I don't love her.  It's Beth I love."</div> <div>      "When you were under the spell, as you were this evening, you and Maggie were strongly attracted to each other.  I saw what you were doing.  Was that the only time this happened?"</div> <div>      "No," Quentin answered honestly and miserably.  He managed to look at Barnabas, whose features were filled with pain.  He looked away again, ashamed.  "I'm sorry," he said again.  "We didn't mean to hurt you.  We never would've--if for the spell.  It shouldn't change how you feel about Maggie, though, should it?"</div> <div>      "I don't know," Barnabas said and sighed.  "Did you go further than you did last night?"</div> <div>      Quentin thought of his encounters with Maggie. "Oh, God," he groaned.  "Please don't ask me that, Barnabas."  His eyes were filling with tears again, thinking not only of Barnabas and Maggie, but of Beth too.</div> <div>      "I need to square this with Angelique.  She has gone too far and hurt too many people I love once again," Barnabas said brusquely, standing up.  "It's almost dawn; I have to return to the coffin."</div> <div>      "Don't hold this against Maggie, please, Barnabas.  It wasn't her fault."</div> <div>      Barnabas put his hand on Quentin's shoulder, as if to comfort him.  "I don't.  In a way, this may be for the best.  It has become harder and harder to control myself--you have no cause to feel shame, Quentin.  Not with me.  I have done something much worse than you, and I was not under Angelique's spell."</div> <div>      "What?"  Quentin asked, curious and concerned.</div> <div>      "Not now.  I can't talk about it, and there's no time.  Go back to sleep, now.  I'll talk with you again later."  Quentin realized how light the room had become.  Barnabas vanished.</div> <bR> <div>      When Quentin woke up again, it was long past daybreak.  He was hungry and wondered if he would have any luck scrounging up anything for breakfast.  He sat up, feeling the back of his head.  It didn't hurt anymore and there was no lump.  In that case, he thought, I think I'd rather take my chances with Mrs. Johnson than with Willie.  He wasn't sure where Willie was and hoped he wouldn't meet him on the way out.  He'd rather face Mrs. Johnson right now, even though she was no pleasure.  The dour-faced housekeeper was in no way, shape or form anything like Mrs. Cleary.  He'd never failed to charm a housekeeper before, but he was about ready to give up on Mrs. Johnson.</div> <div>      He got out of the Old House without being spotted by Willie.  It was well after nine, so Willie might already be puttering around somewhere.  Breakfast would be long over at Collinwood, too, he thought.  Still, he decided to take a chance and went the back way, to the kitchen.  Mrs. Johnson was up to her elbows in suds when he opened the back door.  Startled, she turned around to see who it was.  "Oh, it's you, Mr. Collins!"  she exclaimed.  She seemed to be particularly distrustful of him, and he imagined it was because she continued to associate him with the ghost that terrified her so.  He felt bad about that and was sure that was way he'd been unsuccessful in breaking through to her.  "You'd think with all the money the Collins have they'd think to modernize a little and get a dishwasher!" she complained.</div> <div>      "Gee, you have so much to do there," he ventured sympathetically.  "I guess everyone ate already?"</div> <div>      "Well, of course," she answered in a tone that seemed to wonder if he'd lost his mind.</div> <div>      "Is there anything left?" he asked hopefully.  In the good old days, Mrs. Cleary always saved him a plate of food.  She knew he liked to sleep in.  He missed her very much; she'd been a true and faithful friend.  </div> <div>      Mrs. Johnson gave him an irritated look.  "There's always cold cereal."</div> <div>      He sighed.  He sat down at the table, not sure where everything was kept.  Mrs. Johnson made an aggravated sound and went around collecting a bowl, a plate, and a cup.  "You want some juice, too?"</div> <div>      "I don't want to put you out--"</div> <div>      "I am already put out so this is not going to put me out any more than I am already!"</div> <div>      Jeez, what a grouch, he thought, and absent-mindedly, from old habit, he fingerspelled it as she set the bowl in front of him.  She froze in mid-air, the cup still in her hand.  He looked up at her puzzled.  He almost laughed at her expression.  Then she set the cup down with a thump, looking at him with wide-eyed, open-mouthed disbelief.  "What?" he asked, trying hard not to laugh.  "Is my hair green?"</div> <div>      "Where did you learn that?  And I am not a grouch," she replied. </div> <div>      Now it was his turn to be surprised, his eyebrows shooting up. Slowly, he spelled, "my wife."</div> <div>      Looking stunned and just a little pleased, Mrs. Johnson signed, "Deaf?" and Quentin responded, "Hearing" in sign.  "Well, where did she learn then?  And I didn't know you had a wife.  Where is she?"  Mrs. Johnson asked, with her voice.</div> <div>      "She has--had--a deaf sister," Quentin answered.  "And I don't know where she is.  She's missing."  His eyes filled with pain.  He was sure he'd have felt it if she'd died.  He was sure she was no longer in Berlin--but where?  What kind of life was she living now? </div> <div> Mrs. Johnson saw the pain in his eyes and put a sympathetic hand on his shoulder.  "I'm sorry, Mr. Collins."  She hesitated and then said, "Would you rather have something hot?  Eggs, maybe?"</div> <div>      The offer brought him back from his reverie, and he realized his stomach was growling.  "Eggs?" he repeated.</div> <div>      "I don't suppose it'll be too much trouble," Mrs. Johnson decided.  Quentin was amazed.  This was the first time she was doing something nice for him.  "So--would you believe it?  I have a deaf sister myself."*</div> <div>      "You do?"  Quentin was surprised.  That explained how she knew fingerspelling and signing, which had been the way he and Beth would communicate secretly.</div> <div>      Mrs. Johnson busied herself preparing the eggs.  Without looking up, she confided, "Yes, I used to live with her and her family and my children before I came to live here."  She didn't say anything more, but Quentin felt he had made major progress in winning Mrs. Johnson over.  Maybe she wasn't such a sourpuss after all.  She made a whole hot breakfast for him--eggs, bacon, toast, coffee and juice.</div> <div>      "Thanks," he said with genuine appreciation.  "This is great."  As she started to turn back to the dishes, he asked, "Is Dr. Hoffman here?"</div> <div>      "Yes, as a matter of fact, she is."</div> <div>      "Oh, good."  He hoped she didn't have to go anywhere this morning.  He wanted her to tell him where to find Angelique--she seemed to know where the witch was.  Like Barnabas, he had a score to settle with her.</div> <bR> <div>      Julia was shaking her head at him.  "I don't think you should be talking to Angelique. Why don't you let me handle it?"</div> <div>      "Because she cast the spell on me, not you.  And I can handle myself with Angelique.  I'm not a baby, Julia."</div> <div>      "I'd like to be there anyway," she began.  When Quentin began to object, she added, "For Barnabas."  He shrugged.  He supposed she would come along no matter what he said, and he didn't think it was worth arguing with her about it.  He thought she was being too over-protective, but he had to admit that he'd missed being mothered and enjoyed it.</div> <div>      They drove in Julia's car to the small cottage Angelique had rented since leaving Sky Rumson.   "Well," Angelique said coolly, when she opened the door to them.  "I have had all sorts of interesting visitors today."  She was dressed in a tight sleeveless black dress and smiled prettily at Quentin, batting her eyelashes at him.  He wasn't amused.  "It's so nice to see you again, Quentin, dear.  And Julia!  What a pleasant surprise."</div> <div>      "Oh, can it, would you?"  Quentin growled at her.  "We're not here to socialize."</div> <div>      Angelique acted surprised and dismayed by his rudeness.  "Why, Quentin!"</div> <div>      "Yes, why.  That's what I'd like to know Angelique--why?"</div> <div>      "Why what?"</div> <div>      "Why did you put a spell on Maggie and me?"</div> <div>      Angelique laughed and turned away.  That laugh was maddening.  "Why, Quentin, I was just doing you a favor!"</div> <div>      "You were doing ME a favor?"</div> <div>      "You've been lonely, haven't you?  I was just trying to help."</div> <div>      Quentin lost his temper, following Angelique.  He grabbed her and turned her around to face him.  "What kind of bullshit are you giving me?" he yelled, furious.  "You don't care how I feel, or you wouldn't have fucked me over this way!"  Julia's eyes widened in surprised shock.</div> <div>      Angelique's eyes began to flash with anger.  "Let go of me, Quentin.  How dare you speak to me like that?"</div> <div>      He shook her.  "Do you have any idea the trouble you've caused me?"  He shoved her.  "Yes, of course, you do, but you don't care, do you?  As long as you have your Barnabas--"</div> <div>      She slapped him, hard, and he hit her back.  "Quentin, no!"  Julia exclaimed, alarmed.</div> <div>      Angelique put her hand to her cheek, her eyes smoldering.  "How dare you," she seethed, through gritted teeth.</div> <div>      "I told you if you hit me again, I'd hit you back!  Take the spell off, Angelique--now."</div> <div>      Angelique slapped the other side of his face and then warned:  "If you touch me, you'll be sorry, Quentin, do you hear me?  And why should I do anything for you now?"</div> <div>      "Because you've fucked up my life and Maggie's, that's why.  And it's for nothing, you know that?  So you might as well take the spell off.  Barnabas doesn't want you.  He never has, and he never will.  So you're wasting you're time, and you're making Maggie and me miserable for nothing!"</div> <div>      Her eyes had filled with tears at his words.  "Well, if for nothing else, then, I should leave everything as is for your cruel words to me.  And you don't know what Barnabas wants."</div> <div>      Fed up, Quentin threatened, "If you're fool enough to believe that, that's your problem.  But I can tell Barnabas about us--"  Angelique put her hand up as if to ward off a blow, but Quentin felt something different.  It wasn't a choking sensation; it was more like his vocal chords had become paralyzed.  He put his hands to his throat.</div> <div>      "Angelique--" Julia protested.     Angelique didn't look at her.  She was glaring at Quentin.  "You gave me your word you wouldn't say anything about that, and you're not going to.  Do you understand?"  He nodded.  "I warn you, Quentin--you'd better not say anything to Barnabas or this inconvenient little spell will seem like child's play."</div> <div>      Julia put her hand on Quentin's arm.  "Quentin, why don't you be a dear and get me a pack of cigarettes?  I'm afraid I don't have anymore."  Quentin looked at her in disbelief.  He knew she had a full pack in her purse.  He reddened, furious. He knew what Julia was doing, and he didn't like it but he also didn't want to call her a liar in front of Angelique.  While he was trying to decide how to respond, Julia gave his arm a little squeeze.  "You don't mind, do you?"</div> <div>      He glowered at her and discovered he could speak. "You shouldn't smoke, it's not good for you."   Now he was angry not only with the witch but with Julia for treating him like a baby.</div> <div>      "Quentin, how rude," Angelique rebuked him.</div> <div>      He gave up, but showed his displeasure clearly.  "Oh, all right! Fine!  The usual, doctor?"</div> <div>      "Yes, thank you Quentin," Julia smiled at him, keeping her tone as pleasant as possible.</div> <div> Fuming, Quentin left the house.  He realized Julia had the car keys and he'd have to walk.  Fuck this, he thought, and headed toward Main Street.  Maybe he'd buy her the cigarettes she didn't need, and maybe he'd find something else to do.  He thought of Sabrina suddenly and decided that he would walk to her apartment instead.</div> <div>      By the time he got to her apartment, he'd walked off his anger at Julia and Angelique.  Sabrina wasn't home.  That dismayed him; he'd hoped to find her there.  He wanted to know what had happened between her and Bruno.  The full moon had been last night.  He went back down to the street and walked until he got to a pay phone.  He tried to call Chris, but there was no answer there, either.  Frustrated, he hung up.  It was possible that Chris was a heavy sleeper--it was also possible that something might have happened.  It wasn't a far walk from Collinsport to the cottage, so Quentin set out along a back path.</div> <div>      Years and years ago, when Edward had had a stroke and was lying in the hospital dying, Quentin and Beth took this path back to the cottage.  They couldn't stay at Collinwood because Petofi had been stalking the family, looking for Quentin.  The cottage was before him, and he knocked at the door.  There was no answer, and the drapes were drawn.  The door was open and, feeling a little guilty, Quentin opened the door and walked in.  It seemed empty.  He checked the bedroom and found it undisturbed.  Everything looked okay.  He found some paper and left a note for Chris.</div> <div>      It was still too early for The Blue Whale to open, but he didn't want to hang around here or Collinwood, either.  The coffee shop was open.  If the owner was there, Quentin might be able to jolly him out of a beer.  He remembered Maggie told him that she used to waitress here.  There was another young waitress behind the counter, who looked up and smiled when he came in.  "Hi, I don't remember seeing you in here before," she said, dimpling, handing him a menu.</div> <div>      "You would've if I'd known you were here," Quentin smiled back at her.  She was what people called "perky".</div> <div>      "My name is Joy," she said.  "What's your pleasure?"</div> <div>      "You are, Joy," he answered, flirting with her.  He enjoyed watching her blush.  "I'm Quentin.  I usually don't come in here because I don't usually go for coffee after ten in the morning.  Is Charlie here?"</div> <div>      "Oh, one of Charlie's friends," she said and giggled.  "He's not here."  At Quentin's disappointed look, she said, "But I can get into Charlie's fridge.  You want one of his Heineken's, don't you?"</div> <div>      Quentin winked at her.  "And you, too, of course."</div> <div>      Giggling, the waitress went into the back room and returned with a frosted glass of beer. She smiled at Quentin again, dimpling.  <I>She would be fun</I>, Quentin thought.  <I>She'd help me forget everything for a while. I wonder where she lives?  Maybe I could take her out</I>.  He talked with her for a little while and managed to cajole a second Heineken and her address from her when another customer came in.  Quentin was ready to move on anyway.  He'd made tentative arrangements to meet Joy later and go to a movie.  </div> <div>      Now he walked along the street, heading back toward Sabrina's.  He wanted to see if she'd come back yet.  Again, he was drawn to the window of a store with women's dresses.  He was admiring one of the formal dresses when he heard a car horn honking behind him.  He turned and saw Julia.  He'd forgotten all about her.  Oops, he thought.  Julia had parked the car and had gotten out and was walking toward him.  She looked irritated.</div> <div>      Sure enough, she scolded, "Quentin, really!  Where have you been?  I've been looking all over for you."</div> <div>      "I'm sorry," he apologized, and he was.  He didn't mean to worry her and had forgotten he was angry with her.  "Julia, look at that dress."  It wasn't the one he'd just been admiring, thinking how beautiful Beth would look in it.  It was an elegant forest green tea dress.  "Do you like it?"</div> <div>      "It's nice," Julia said, shrugging.  "It's green."</div> <div>      "I think it would look lovely on you, Julia.  You see that shade of green?  It would bring out the color of your eyes, and it would look great with your red hair."</div> <div>      Startled, her hand went to her throat.  Speechless, she looked from the dress back to Quentin and back again.  "But that dress isn't me!"  she exclaimed finally.</div> <div>      "Why not?  Why don't you try it on?" he urged her.</div> <div>      "Quentin, this doesn't make any sense!  We have things to take care of--I don't have time to try on a dress!"     </div> <div>      "Oh, come on, it won't take long.  Just try it on."</div> <div>      She gave him an exasperated, confused look.  "Really, we don't have the time.  We have to talk..."</div> <div>      "Yes, yes, I know.  I'll go back with you and we can talk about Angelique and the spell and Barnabas and all the rest of it--but try the dress on, first." </div> <div>      She looked a little suspicious.  "Why are you so insistent on this?"</div> <div>      "Because I think you're a very attractive woman, Julia, and I think you'd look beautiful in that dress. Come on."  Now she looked dismayed and defensive. "Look, I'm not trying to put the moves on you, Julia. Honest.  Come on, try it on."</div> <div>      At that, she looked less nervous and relaxed.  "You are as impulsive as a child," Julia said teasingly, sounding exasperated and amused.  "Oh, all right.  I'll try it on.  And then we'll go because we really need to discuss what we're going to do."</div> <div>      "Right, right," he promised.  He wandered around the racks looking at the other dresses there while Julia tried on the dress.  When she came out, he whistled, and Julia turned red.  Green was not a color many women could wear, he knew he was right about this-it did her hair and eyes.  "It is you, look at yourself," he said, pointing to a full-length mirror.</div> <div>      She looked into the mirror, obviously uncomfortable.  "Really, this isn't--" She stopped when he came up behind her.</div> <div>      "Buy it, Julia, it's a beautiful dress."</div> <div>      She laughed, sounding very uncomfortable.  "What would I do with it?"</div> <div>      "Wear it for Barnabas," he answered, very matter of factly.</div> <div>      She laughed again.  "Don't be ridiculous."</div> <div>      "I'm not," he said, very serious.  "Buy it, Julia."</div> <div>      "Oh, Quentin, are you going to pester me to death if I don't?  I really don't think--"</div> <div>      "I really don't think you think enough of yourself," he declared.  "You wear that dress for Barnabas, and he'll sit up and notice you."  He was distressed to see her eyes filling up with tears.  "Listen, you're a lovely person on the inside--and on the outside.  You need to let everyone see that," he said softly.  "Buy the dress, Julia."</div> <div>      "This isn't one of your jokes?"</div> <div>      "No!  I wouldn't do that!  I love you, Julia."  As soon as the words were out, he blushed, confused.  "I mean--I mean--I'm not in love with you, but I love you because you've been so good to me, taking care of me and being my friend--" he stopped, feeling foolish.  Julia's eyes had filled again and he hoped he hadn't hurt her feelings.</div> <div>      "You're very sweet, Quentin," Julia squeezed his hand and smiled at him.  "Thank you."</div> <div>      "Just buy the dress, will you?" He felt embarrassed now.</div> <div>      "I think I will after all."  She disappeared back into the dressing room, while he tried to sort his feelings out. He'd never had a satisfactory sisterly relationship; Edith died when he was a small boy, and he and Judith had never gotten along well.  Julia reappeared and paid for the dress.  She showed Quentin the bag, gave him an embarrassed smile, and then hugged him.  "Let's go home now," she suggested.</div> <div>      As they got into the car, he asked:  "Did she take the spell off?"</div> <div>      Julia looked at him quickly.  "She saw that it was more to her advantage to remove it, yes."</div> <div>      He sighed deeply, relieved.  "Thank you, Julia."</div> <div>      "May I ask you a personal question?  You don't have to answer if you don't want to--especially in view of what Angelique said."</div> <div>      "Go ahead, ask."</div> <div>      "When did you see Angelique before now?"</div> <div>      This was another opening to talk to her about the dreams.  "I conjured her up to help me when I got into a real jam years ago--in the 20s.  It's a really long story, Julia, but she is the one who brought Beth back to me."</div> <div>      "She did?  So you and Beth were separated earlier, too?"  Julia was obviously surprised.  "Yet, you had an affair with her, didn't you?  Isn't that what she wants kept secret?"</div> <div>      Quentin grinned at her.  "You know, that's one of the things I love about you, Julia.  And I don't have be worried about being turned into a toad because I didn't say a word--did I?"  Julia smiled back at him.  "I don't understand her--she can be kind one day and unspeakably cruel the next.  But to bring Beth and me back together--I'll always be grateful to her for that.  Beth is still alive, Julia, I know it.  I just don't know where."</div> <div>      "We really haven't had a chance to talk about you, have we?"  Julia said, and sighed.  "Where do you think she might be?"</div> <div>        "The last place I saw her was in Berlin. I wanted to get her out, but she'd already been moved when I was freed."</div> <div>      "Berlin?" Julia gave him a very searching look.</div> <div>      "Long story, not enough time right now," he reminded her.  "I don't know where they would have sent her. I can't get back--ever.  I tried having some contacts I know try and locate her, but they haven't had much luck yet.  Then I dreamed about Jenny--"</div> <div>      "Jenny!"</div> <div>      "Before I came here and lost my memory."</div> <div>      "Oh, yes-you mentioned it very briefly in the hospital, didn't you?  Tell me about the dream."  Julia, although she kept her eyes on the road, was obviously interested.  </div> <div>      He had to talk fast, though.  They were almost at Collinwood.  "She said to come to you and Barnabas.  That we had to help Chris and Amy, and then she would help bring Beth back.  She was really emphatic that I had to come to you because of  'the danger' Chris was in.  She was so lucid, Julia.  She was so different--even when we were first married, she wasn't as together as she was in my dream.  When I asked her about it, she said it was because she was whole.  She talked about all these other people--The Angry One, Pearl--some others.  She told me it was The Angry One who attacked Beth the night I...you know--"*</div> <div>      Julia's eyes had widened with surprise.  "Multiple personalities!  Of course!"</div> <div>      Quentin was nonplussed.  "What? Do you mean Jenny was schizophrenic?"</div> <div>      "No, no.  Schizophrenia is different.  Multiple personalities...have you ever seen a movie called 'The Three Faces of Eve'?"</div> <div>      He remembered the movie, and for the first time, he understood.  "Ohhh!  My God, you mean Jenny really had all those people living inside there with her?"  </div> <div>      "It sounds like it, and it would make sense, Quentin, based on her behavior."</div> <div>      It all made sense now--the changes in Jenny's moods.  He hadn't understood her at all when they were married.  He'd had a deep sexual attraction to her, and she was always exciting in bed.  The problem was that he didn't care for her when they weren't making love, and that was because he didn't understand her wide mood swings.  "That's why she's not angry about Beth.  I didn't understand.  She said it wouldn't have mattered whether I'd got involved with Beth or not--" he stopped talking when they pulled up in the drive.</div> <div>      "Did Jenny say anything about how she was going to 'bring Beth back'?  And how are we to help?"</div> <div>      "No," he answered ruefully.  "I woke up."</div> <div>      They entered the foyer at Collinwood and were met by Mrs. Johnson.  "Oh, Dr. Hoffman, you've got to call Windcliff right away!  There's an emergency there.  Here--I wrote the message down for you."</div> <div>      "Excuse me," Julia said to Quentin and went to use the phone.  Damn, he thought.  It's always something.</div> <div>      "Something I can get for you, Mr. Collins?"  Mrs. Johnson asked tentatively.</div> <div>      He considered.  He didn't know how long Julia would be.  "Not right now, thanks," he said politely and followed Julia into the drawing room.  Maybe if she could take care of the emergency over the phone, they could talk some more.  He could tell by listening to Julia's end of the conversation that that was not to be.  When she hung up, she said, "I've got to go, Quentin, I'm sorry.  I'm needed for a consultation--"</div> <div>      "It's all right, Julia.  I understand."  He didn't, though, not really.  He knew she was a doctor, and her first call would be to help someone in an emergency but--he needed help.  Julia patted his hand and promised to talk to him again when she got back.  Sure, he thought, a little morosely as she left the room--unless there's another crisis with Barnabas.  He made his way to the bar and found the brandy.</div> <div>      "Hello, Quentin, I'm glad to see you are making yourself at home."  Startled, he nearly dropped the top of the brandy decanter. Elizabeth had come into the drawing room carrying a book to read.  She was coolly polite.  He flushed.  Now that the Leviathan spell was broken, he felt that Elizabeth was always watching him, coolly appraising him.  He always tried not to drink in her presence, but there was nothing he could do now.</div> <div>      "Would you like a brandy, Cousin Elizabeth?"  he asked politely, to cover his embarrassment and discomfort.</div> <div>      "Thank you.  Actually, that would be very nice," Elizabeth replied agreeably.</div> <div>      He poured a glass for her and handed it to her, sitting down across from her.  It was very hard to reconcile the mature Elizabeth with the sweet-voiced, happy little angel he'd known as a child.  Sometimes when she looked at him so closely, he wondered if she was really wondering about "Cousin Frank" and not the ghost.  He wondered how different Elizabeth's life might have been--and Roger's too--if Ruth hadn't been killed, if Jamison hadn't drank so much, if he himself had been more a part of their lives.  She was looking very serious, and it occurred to him that he hadn't seen her smile much in the two months he'd been here.  "Is something wrong?"  he ventured, interrupting her reverie.</div> <div>      "Oh!  I'm sorry, Quentin," Elizabeth started and gave him a "pasted-on" smile.  "I suppose I was just distracted for a moment."</div> <div>      "By something you're worried about?"</div> <div>      Elizabeth sighed.  "By Carolyn."</div> <div>      "Carolyn?"  He echoed, to encourage her to talk. Having a daughter married to that monster Jeb Hawkes was enough to turn any mother's hair to snow.  No wonder she was worried!</div> <div>      "She's back, did you know that?  And something is wrong--even Carolyn doesn't know what.  Jeb seems to be in some kind of trouble--"</div> <div>      "That doesn't surprise me," Quentin muttered.  Elizabeth raised her eyebrows in surprise.  "Forgive me, Cousin Elizabeth.  That was uncalled for," he apologized immediately.</div> <div>      "Do you think it might be he's in trouble because of what he's been doing?"</div> <div>      "I'm sure of it.  I'm sorry."</div> <div>      "Don't apologize.  I feel very uneasy about this marriage.  The trouble is, Carolyn loves him.  Roger was very angry that the marriage took place.  He doesn't like Jeb either."     <I>I know and he has good reason not to like Jeb</I>, Quentin thought.  This time he kept his thoughts to himself, wondering if it was such a good idea to keep Elizabeth totally in the dark this way.  It hardly seemed fair.</div> <div>      Mrs. Johnson came to the doorway.  "How many for dinner this evening, Mrs. Stoddard?" she asked.</div> <div>      "I'm not sure if Carolyn and Jeb will be here," Elizabeth said.  "Roger will be delayed."</div> <div>      "Dr. Hoffman had an emergency consultation," Quentin added helpfully.</div> <div>      Elizabeth sighed.  She looked at Quentin a little hopefully.  "What are your dinner plans, Quentin?"</div> <div>      Surprised, he realized that she was lonely and didn't want to eat alone.  He shrugged.  "I don't have any.  I was going to the movies, but that's not until later tonight."</div> <div>      "Would you like to stay and have dinner, then?"</div> <div>      "Sure, thanks."</div> <div>      "Four, Mrs. Johnson, but I think you should make extra in case Jeb, Carolyn, and Dr. Hoffman make it back in time for dinner."</div> <div>      "It's always a surprise anyway," Mrs. Johnson muttered as she headed back toward the kitchen.  Quentin laughed.  After a moment, Elizabeth smiled too.</div> <div>      "She reminds me of the first governess I had as a child," Elizabeth recalled.  "She was a very stern person, too.  Especially to a seven-year-old child."</div> <div>      "A sourpuss," Quentin said, and Elizabeth laughed out right.  He was pleased.  He almost asked what happened to Frances, the nanny who'd been injured by Petofi's attack dogs, but caught himself in time.  "So, did she stay very long?"  Encouraged, Elizabeth began to talk and Quentin listened with genuine interest.  He'd last seen Elizabeth at his wedding, when she was around eight or so, and he was interested to hear what had become of her.  It was obvious she didn't remember any of that. He kept her talking all through dinner.  Julia still didn't come back, and it was past sundown. Quentin excused himself; he still wanted to talk to Sabrina and Chris.</div> <div>      He was walking through the foyer and was on his way out when the phone rang.  He figured he'd give Mrs. Johnson a break, so he picked it up and said, "Hello?"</div> <div>      "Hello, Quentin?  This is Chris.  Is Dr. Hoffman there?"  Chris sounded frantic.</div> <div>      "No, she's not.  What's wrong?"</div> <div>      "It's Sabrina--she's been attacked by something.  She's hurt--bleeding.  But she won't let me take her to the hospital. She's insisting she's got to see Julia!" Quentin felt the hairs on the back of his neck prickle.  <I>No, Barnabas wouldn't</I> <I>have!  </I>he thought.  He heard Chris talking to Sabrina:  "She's not there.  Please!  Let me take you to another doctor--"</div> <div>      And Sabrina's voice, "No, Chris!  Julia knows what to do."</div> <div>      Oh, shit, Quentin thought.  "Chris?  I'll call Windcliff and ask her to come to the cottage right away.  Stay there.  I'll be right over."  He hung up without waiting for an answer.  He called Windcliff and left a message for Julia to come to Chris' cottage right away. Then he moved as quickly as he could out the door and down the path to the cottage.  He knocked once and then turned the knob and walked in.  Chris got up from the floor, where he'd been kneeling next to the sofa. Sabrina lay prone, very pale.  Her skin looked translucent.</div> <div>      Chris walked over to Quentin, looking worried and frightened.  "Thanks for coming over so fast," he said gratefully.  "I don't know what to do--so much bullshit has happened in the last twenty-four hours..."</div> <div>      "What?"</div> <div>      "Bruno took Sabrina hostage to get me over to the carriage house.  He wanted me to kill Carolyn, but I don't know why."</div> <div>      "Carolyn!"</div> <div>      "Yes, see, he forced me into this room and locked the door.  Before the transformation started to happen, he shoved Carolyn in the door."</div> <div>      "Oh, my God!"  Quentin exclaimed.  Yet another transformation!  While that was going on, he'd been trying to have sex with Maggie again--because of the spell.  He was distraught about that.  "How did you get away?"</div> <div>      "Roger Collins came--I guess he overpowered Bruno.  They were trying to help me, and I was yelling at them to get out.  That's all I remember."</div> <div>      "They're all right, Chris.  I was just talking to Elizabeth, and she would have told me if anything was wrong."  Chris looked relieved.  Quentin looked toward Sabrina again, concerned.  "What happened to her?  Did she tell you?"</div> <div>      "No, I couldn't get anything out of her," Chris fretted.  "She's bleeding from these two holes in her neck--" Quentin visibly started.  "Do you know what that's from?"     Quentin went to Sabrina's side. <I>Damn, damn, damn</I>, he thought.  He knew what they were from, all right.  Chris was following him and stopped short as Quentin knelt by Sabrina's side to look at the fang marks in her neck.  <I>Barnabas, you damn fool</I>, he thought angrily.  <I>Not her--not Sabrina</I>!  He wondered if that was what Barnabas had been talking about early this morning.  This was a fresh attack, though.  So if he'd attacked Sabrina once already, then he'd already summoned her a second time. He felt his fury rising.  Chris broke into his thoughts:  "You know what it is, don't you?  What's happening to her?"</div> <div>      "How should I know?"  Quentin snapped irritably.  "I'm not a doctor!  I don't know what this is from!"  He wasn't angry with Chris and regretted snapping at him.  He knew Chris was just worried about Sabrina.  Sabrina stirred a little and moaned.  Although she was very pale, her breathing was normal, not shallow.  At least he hadn't drained her too much.  Quentin looked up at Chris.  "Stay with her until Julia comes, will you?  I have to--to--" he tried to think of a reason to leave.  "I'll go back to the house and warn them there."</div> <div>      "I'll call the police," Chris said helpfully.</div> <div>      "No, you take care of Sabrina.  I'll do that for you," Quentin countered swiftly.  Just what they needed--the police.</div> <div>      "Thanks," Chris said gratefully, and Quentin felt very guilty for lying to him.  "I'll get something to try and stop that bleeding.  It's slowed down considerably."</div> <div>      "She'll be all right," Quentin said reassuringly.  "Just don't leave her alone, Chris, and she'll be all right."  Chris locked the door behind him, and he strode toward the Old House, intending to confront Barnabas.  </div> <div>      It was dark at the Old House.  Quentin was afraid no one was there; if Barnabas was home, he usually had the candles lit.  Well, there was one way to find out.  He walked in and heard voices.  It was dark and gloomy inside.  He recognized Barnabas' voice; he wasn't sure about the other.  He didn't care who it was; whoever it was would have to go.  "Barnabas!" he called sharply.  He stopped short, surprised.  He recognized Jeb Hawkes standing in the dim foyer.</div> <div>      "Hello, Quentin," Barnabas said mildly from the drawing room.  Quentin couldn't see his features clearly; he was just an outline in the dark room.  "I know you've met Jeb."</div> <div>      "Right, we're aquainted."  Quentin threw Jeb an outraged, bitter look.  Jeb wasn't paying attention to him at all.  Quentin seethed.  "Barnabas, I have to talk to you!"</div> <div>      "Jeb, why don't you go back to Collinwood," Barnabas suggested in his soothing, cultured voice.  "I'll talk to Angelique and see what I can do."</div> <div>      "Thank you, Barnabas," Jeb answered with a great deal of relief in his voice.  He brushed past Quentin without looking at or saying a word to him.</div> <div>      Quentin walked into the drawing room and heard Barnabas striking a match.  He'd begun to light the candles. "You've got a pleasant new friend," Quentin observed resentfully.</div> <div>      "Angelique has put a curse on him," Barnabas answered, as if that explained everything.</div> <div>      "Really?"  Quentin was delighted.  "Good."</div> <div>      To his astonishment, Barnabas sounded sympathetic.  "He'll die."</div> <div>      It sounded like Barnabas was actually concerned that Jeb might die.  "He had the nerve to come here?  After what he did to you?"  Quentin exploded with rage.  Barnabas continued to move around the room, calmly lighting the other candles.  Quentin could no longer contain himself.  "I've just seen Sabrina!" he exclaimed in an accusing tone.</div> <div>      Now Barnabas turned to face him, and Quentin was shocked at his appearance.  More than ever, his eyes looked sunken and burning as if with fever.  He was so pale his face was almost translucent in the candlelight.  "You don't think I wanted to do that, do you?"  he asked in an injured tone.</div> <div>      "But Chris is supposed to be your friend!  Why her, Barnabas?  Doesn't he have enough to worry about?  One minute you're helping him, and the next minute you're--"</div> <div>      Barnabas interrupted his tirade.  "Quentin, please!  Don't make me hate myself more than I already do."</div> <div>      He was too angry to stop his tirade.  "I don't care how you feel, Barnabas!  Now you've got her under your spell--Sabrina, of all people!  Why, Barnabas?  You've got to stay away from her, do you hear?  You have to control yourself!"</div> <div>      "I'm trying--" Barnabas' voice was full of anguish.</div> <div>      "That's not good enough," Quentin snapped.  "You've got to promise me--promise me you'll leave Sabrina alone!"</div> <div>      "I can't promise you that," Barnabas said wearily, sounding defeated.  "Yesterday--perhaps I could've.  I can't now."</div> <div>      "Why?  What's different about today?"  The despair in Barnabas' voice had penetrated Quentin's anger.  Now he felt concerned.</div> <div>      "Quentin, the injections aren't working.  In fact, I am stronger cravings for blood than at any other time.  I have to restrain myself from attacking you, do you understand?  It is taking almost all my effort to do so.  You are angry, Quentin, and I can hear the blood coursing through your veins.  I want to--" Barnabas broke off, sounding horrified at his feelings.  He went on, sounding profoundly depressed.  "If I had a gun with silver bullets, I would put it in your hand and force you to shoot me."</div> <div>      Quentin's blood turned cold at these revelations.  Frightened not only for himself, but also for Barnabas now, he cried,  "You can't just kill Sabrina!"</div> <div>      Barnabas groaned and turned away.  "No," he agreed.</div> <div>      Quentin heard the pain in his voice and knew he was suffering. "Julia must be able to do something!"  Barnabas shook his head, no.  "Why not?  What about the serum she was working on?  I don't understand!"</div> <div>      "For some reason, the injections have caused the cravings to become worse.  Julia gave me the last injection last night, and I have never felt the need for blood so...intensely.  The formula has made everything worse."</div> <div>      "Can she try another formula?"</div> <div>      "It's no use, Quentin.  It took so long to come up with this one...I don't know how long I can bear this."</div> <div>      <I>I can't believe this</I>, Quentin thought, distraught.  <I>It can't be</I>.  It was like Edward all over again.  He was told that Edward would never get well and would die, and he couldn't accept it at first.  He felt his eyes filling with tears.  For the first time, he realized that Barnabas might have to die, too, and he couldn't accept that now, either.  And if Barnabas didn't die, what then?  "I'm sorry," he said, struggling to control himself.  "Barnabas, I shouldn't have said the things I did.  I remember dreading the nights when the moon was full and I knew some other force would be controlling me.  I--I didn't know that something was wrong with the formula.  Please forgive me."</div> <div>      "No, there's nothing to forgive--you are right," Barnabas sighed deeply.  "I must get through the rest of this night.  I don't want to be alone.  I told Willie to take the night off so that he could spend some time with his fiancée, but I realize now that was a mistake.  Would you stay with me tonight?"</div> <div>      "Of course."  <I>Anything, Barnabas</I>, he thought.  <I>You've done so much for me.</I></div> <div>      "I'd like you to stay in the room when I talk to Angelique," Barnabas went on, speaking softly.</div> <div>      Quentin wasn't sure he heard right.  "You're going to talk to Angelique?  About this?"</div> <div>      "No, no," Barnabas shook his head impatiently.  "About Jeb--about the curse she put on him."</div> <div>      It was outrageous, especially in view of what they'd just been talking about.  "You're not really going to help him?"  Quentin didn't try to control his fury and resentment.  "After what he's done?  Never mind the fact he tried to kill me, Barnabas, he's the reason why you're suffering like this!  How can you possibly want to help him?"</div> <div>      "Carolyn loves him," Barnabas answered somewhat evasively, as if that should be enough.  When Quentin opened his mouth to protest again, he went on, "I love Carolyn.  I want her to be happy.  You love her too, don't you?"</div> <div>      <I>But I love you more</I>, Quentin thought, unable to speak.  He fought to control himself, and then answered, "Yes, I do, but how can she be happy with that creature?"</div> <div>      "Don't worry.  I have a plan, but I don't want to involve you in that.  I know how Jeb feels about you," Barnabas assured him. He added with genuine gratitude, "Thank you for staying with me."   Quentin looked away.  "With you here, I think there's less likelihood that Angelique and I will quarrel."  Quentin couldn't help but smile.  <I>If you only knew</I>, he thought.  "What?" Barnabas asked, curiously.</div> <div>      Quentin shrugged.   "I just never thought I'd be helping Jeb Hawkes, that's all."</div> <div>      "I am grateful."</div> <div>      "I'm just doing this for you, you know," Quentin said.  "And Carolyn--of course."</div> <div>      Barnabas looked uncomfortable, as he always did when anyone expressed any feelings for him.  He moved away and began an incantation to summon Angelique to the Old House.  Quentin sat down to wait for her to decide to show up.</div> <div>      He was surprised when she appeared so quickly, but reading the expression on her face when she looked at Barnabas, he realized he shouldn't have been.  When Angelique saw Quentin, she looked alarmed and suspicious.  She glared at him.  Behind his cousin's back, Quentin shook his head at her and tried to indicate that he hadn't told Barnabas anything.  She looked a little relieved, but still looked at him suspiciously.  Barnabas explained that he knew about the shadow curse she had placed on Jeb, and for Carolyn's sake, he wanted her to remove it.</div> <div>      Now Angelique looked flat out astonished.  "You want me to remove Jeb's curse--for Carolyn's sake?  You're not asking anything for yourself?"</div> <div>      "No."</div> <div>      "And why should I help Carolyn?"</div> <div>      "You like her, don't you?  She's never caused you any harm.  She loves him very much, and his death would break her heart.  She hasn't recovered from the death of her father yet."</div> <div>      "Which Jeb caused," Angelique pointed out.  "And why should I care if Carolyn has someone to love?  Why is she so special?"</div> <div>      "You mean when you don't have love in your own life," Quentin interrupted.  Angelique gave him an intense, annoyed look, and Barnabas turned to frown and shake his head.  Quentin shrugged.  All right, he'd stay out of it.  He fidgeted nervously, wishing he'd worn his ring.  He fiddled with his ring finger as if twisting the band he used to wear there every day.  </div> <div> He listened to Barnabas reasoning with Angelique, explaining that it wasn't Jeb's fault that her husband Sky was a Leviathan; he had been recruited by her nemesis, Nicholas Blair.  "I have an idea, Angelique, and if you would only help me we would be rid of them both.  Think of it-getting rid of the two people who have caused you this pain and heartbreak!" Barnabas' voice lowered to an inaudible whisper.</div> <div> Angelique laughed in that special, musical way.  "Oh, it's too clever, Barnabas!  I  am impressed!  All right-send Jeb here. I will talk to him." </div> <div>      Barnabas tapped him on the shoulder, and he looked up.  His cousin's eyes were burning intensely.  "Come with me, please."</div> <div>      "Where are we going?" Quentin asked, surprised.</div> <div>      "To Collinwood.  Angelique would like to speak with Jeb."</div> <div>      He'd agreed to keep Barnabas company, so he got up obediently.  He didn't want to look at Angelique, but he felt her eyes boring into him as they left the house.  It unnerved him.  "She's going to help him?" he asked incredulously.  Things were becoming more and more bizarre.  "Why?"</div> <div>      "Because I pointed out to her that her enemy is really Nicholas Blair--he is the one who took her husband from her.  So she will have her revenge, using Jeb to retaliate for her."</div> <div>      "How considerate of her," Quentin said sarcastically.  "So now Jeb gets Carolyn.  What about you?"</div> <div>      "I don't want help from her--not at her price," Barnabas snapped.  They were approaching Collinwood now.  Quentin wondered where everyone was.  It was dark downstairs.  Barnabas went right into the drawing room.  "Jeb?"</div> <div>      "Barnabas?"  Jeb's voice sounded low and frightened.  Quentin switched on the light and started for the bar.  "No, turn it off!" Jeb wailed.  His frightened scream made Quentin jump.  What the hell was the matter with him?  Then he saw a shadow on the opposite wall.  "Turn it off!"  Jeb cried again, and Barnabas switched the light off.</div> <div>      "Jeb, Angelique is at the Old House. She wants to talk to you."</div> <div>      Jeb was almost babbling in his gratitude.  "Thank you Barnabas, I really appreciate this, Barnabas, really--" He was out the door and away almost immediately.</div> <div>      "What the hell was that all about?"  Quentin asked.  Barnabas turned the light back on.  "What was that shadow?"</div> <div>      "That was the curse Angelique set on Jeb," Barnabas explained.  "Eventually, that shadow will kill him if she doesn't remove the curse."</div> <div>      "What a way to go," Quentin said sardonically, reaching for the brandy.</div> <div>      "We don't have time for that, right now.  I want to show you something," Barnabas said impatiently.  Quentin set the bottle back down, resigned.  He followed Barnabas upstairs, wondering where the rest of the family was.  It really wasn't that late yet.  He wondered where Barnabas was taking him and wasn't all that surprised when they turned toward the east wing.  He remembered what Julia had told him about the strange room and about parallel time. <I>Well, it was inevitable that he'd drag me here to look at the room, too</I>.</div> <div>      The east wing hadn't been used in many, many years.  It was dark, cold, moldy, and there was a thick layer of dust and spider webs everywhere.  The only light was provided by Barnabas' flashlight.  Quentin wished he had one, too, as he bumped and tripped over furniture and boxes lying about.  As he barked his shin for the third time, he called irritably, "Where are we going, Barnabas?  A party? I'd rather be downstairs in the light, having a drink."</div> <div>      Barnabas stopped and waited for him to catch up.  "I wanted you to see this while we were here."</div> <div>      "See what?"  Quentin asked, playing dumb.</div> <div>      They'd come to a set of double doors.  "Open the doors," Barnabas urged.</div> <div>      Quentin did, grumbling, "Why?  It's just another dusty--" As the doors opened, he stopped talking, stunned.  The room was bright with light and fully furnished.  Astonished, he looked at Barnabas, who had a relieved expression on his face.  "Someone's living here?"</div> <div>      "I was hoping someone else would see this," Barnabas responded, out of his sense of relief.  Maybe he realized no one had believed him.</div> <div>      "Well, what IS this?  Tell me!"  Quentin exclaimed.  Barnabas put his finger to his lips and nodded toward the room.   Quentin turned back and looked in.  He saw Jeb Hawkes--or his twin--come into the room, apparently searching for something.  This Jeb was different in the way he carried himself.  He was professionally dressed, and he was wearing glasses.  "Isn't that Jeb?"  Quentin asked.  </div> <div>      "I don't know what his name is," Barnabas answered, sounding enthralled.</div> <div>      Quentin looked back at the man, who was ignoring them.  "He can't hear us?"  Barnabas shook his head, no.  Incredible, Quentin thought.  Like a <U>Star Trek</U> or <U>Twilight Zone</U> episode.  He softly hummed the theme song from <U>The Twilight Zone.</U>  Barnabas looked at him, puzzled.  "It was a science fiction television program," Quentin explained with a smile.  "It had some pretty bizarre episodes."</div> <div>      He was distracted by the sound of the man who looked like Jeb pleading with a Chris-look-alike to keep an address book.  Wow, Quentin thought.  So this isn't just science fiction fantasy, then.  He looked around the room, seeing a picture of himself with David (<I>why?  David is Roger's son</I>, he thought) and a large portrait of Angelique hanging on the wall.  It was hard to believe he wasn't dreaming or having an alcoholic delusion, but he was stone cold sober--why was probably why Barnabas didn't want him to have a drink.  The person who looked like Chris shut the door in their faces.  Quentin drew back, startled; Barnabas was apparently used to it.  "Look again," he urged softly.</div> <div>      This time, when Quentin opened the doors, he was looking in at an empty, dusty room.  "Far out!"  he exclaimed.</div> <div>      "I beg your pardon?"  Barnabas asked.</div> <div>      "Incredible!"  Quentin amended.  </div> <div>      "Did you see how they were dressed?  They're like us.  Professor Stokes calls it 'parallel time.'"</div> <div>      "I've read about this in science fiction, but I didn't think it could really happen."  Quentin stepped into the room, looking around.  "How do you know when this is going to happen?"</div> <div>      "I don't," Barnabas answered, stepping in with him.  "Sometimes when I come here, the room is empty--as it is now.  Other times, I see people I know.  I've seen Elizabeth, Roger, Carolyn..."</div> <div>      "Me?"  Quentin interrupted.</div> <div>      "No, not yet.  Just your picture.  With David."</div> <div>      "I wondered about that.  Why isn't he with Roger?  He's Roger's son."</div> <div>      "I don't know the answer to that."  Barnabas walked around the room.  He almost looked as if he were willing it to change.  Quentin shivered, remembering Julia had told him that Barnabas seemed to be obsessed about this room.  "I know that I don't exist here."</div> <div>      "No?  How do you know?"</div> <div>      "Apparently there are times when it's possible to break through to the other side.  I was here one day, and Julia threw a book--it went out of this room and landed at my feet.  It was written by Willie--"</div> <div>      "Willie!  No way!"  Quentin exclaimed, remembering what Julia had told him and continuing to play dumb. He  really couldn't imagine Willie writing a book anyway and laughed.</div> <div>      The corners of Barnabas' mouth turned up just slightly.   "But he had written this book.  And apparently other books as well.  He seemed to be a moderately successful writer.  What was most intriguing was the title of the book."  Quentin looked at him, curious.  He threw his hands out, the gesture which meant "well, what?"  "It was called <U>'The Life and Death of Barnabas Collins</U>.'"</div> <div>      Quentin felt that hair-prickling sensation that Beth referred to as a goose walking over her grave.  "Death?"  He was dismayed.</div> <div>      Barnabas was not.  "In that time," he explained wistfully, "I married Josette and we had a child, a son.  I was never a vampire.  I lived a normal life, living happily with Josette until my death in 1830."     Quentin whistled, impressed.  "I wonder what would happen if I should go there now.  Maybe vampirism doesn't exist there."</div> <div>      Little bells of warning sounded in Quentin's head.  "You don't know that," he said sharply.  "Are you thinking of trying to go there?"</div> <div>      "I must admit it's crossed my mind," Barnabas confided.  "To be able to live free, without the curse I'm doomed to live with--I would be mad not to consider it."</div> <div>      "But, Barnabas, all the people who love you are here," Quentin protested.</div> <div>      "Yes," Barnabas agreed heavily.  "And none of you are safe from me now."</div> <div>      "But, Barnabas, you could go there and still be afflicted with that curse!"  Quentin continued to argue, genuinely alarmed now.  He knew without a doubt that Barnabas intended to cross over into the other time if he could.  He was frightened, not only for Barnabas, but also for himself. He needed his cousin.  It wasn't just the need for his help in finding Beth; he needed his cousin's support and friendship.</div> <div>      "That's true.  But you all would be safe."</div> <div>      "But we need you!"  Quentin blurted, desperate to change his mind.  Barnabas looked over at him, and as their eyes met, Barnabas smiled very gently.</div> <div>      "I am not going anywhere--yet," Barnabas said softly, as if to reassure him.  Quentin shook his head, unconvinced.  Barnabas walked back across the room and put his hand on Quentin's shoulder.  Quentin could feel the chill of his touch even through his clothes, but he didn't flinch.  This was Barnabas.  "Don't worry, Quentin, please."  He looked around.  "Perhaps we'd better go."</div> <div>      Quentin was eager to get away.  They went back to the Old House and discovered that both Jeb and Angelique were gone.  Angelique had left a terse note for Barnabas:  "<I>It is done</I>."  Barnabas sighed with relief.  He looked at his clock.  It was only ten o'clock.  It was going to be a long evening, Quentin thought, watching Barnabas pace restlessly.  "Is there anything I can do?"  he asked.</div> <div>      "Perhaps," Barnabas said with a heavy sigh.  He went to the bookcase and took down a heavy book and gave it to Quentin.  "Read to me.  Perhaps that will distract me."</div> <div>      Startled, Quentin opened the book.  Dismayed, he saw that it was the works of Robert Burns.  He struggled with the difficult language. Barnabas sighed.  "I'm sorry," Quentin apologized.  </div> <div>      "Try this.  These are American poets," Barnabas suggested, selecting another book.</div> <div>      Quentin began to read a poem by Edward Taylor.  He wondered if Barnabas had any of the works of Walt Whitman or Emily Dickinson.  Quentin liked them, especially the flowing words and images of Walt Whitman.  Barnabas sat down across from Quentin, closing his eyes and steepling his hands together.  <I>Jeez, I hope I'm doing some good here</I>, Quentin thought, continuing to read.  He'd never read to a grown up before, not even Beth.  Beth had always been the one to read to him.  He'd only read for the children, when they were small.  His throat began to feel dry.</div> <div>      He wasn't sure how long he'd been reading.  Barnabas got up abruptly and began to pace again.  "What is it?  Do you want me to stop?"  Quentin asked.</div> <div>      "I feel the need...I feel the need..." Barnabas whispered, sounding hoarse and strained.</div> <div>      "What can I do?"  Quentin asked, frightened.  It was like watching someone go through drug withdrawal--like when Cholly had tried to stop using heroin.  He didn't know what to do, and he felt helpless.</div> <div>      "Read, just read!"  Barnabas snapped, closing his eyes.</div> <div>      "All right," Quentin said, shaken, opening the book again.  Barnabas continued to pace for a few minutes and then dropped back into his chair, as if he was exhausted.  "Are you all right now?"</div> <div>      "The urge has passed--I have controlled it," Barnabas answered, sounding strained.</div> <div>      Maybe he needed something that would take more of his attention.  "Do you know how to play poker?"  he asked.  He was pretty sure he'd left a deck of cards in Barnabas' room.</div> <div>      Barnabas' face took on a distasteful expression.  "No."</div> <div>      "Gin rummy, then?"</div> <div>      "That sounds like a drink, Quentin.  No."</div> <div>      "It's not a drink, it's a game.  Let me teach it to you."</div> <div>      Barnabas sighed.  "All right, then."</div> <div> Quentin found a deck of cards he'd left in his cousin's dresser drawer and spent a few minutes showing Barnabas how the game was played. His cousin seemed to like it.  Quentin would have preferred playing poker, because there were many more variations but he wasn't going to argue.  He would play go fish if it would keep Barnabas occupied.  They'd been playing for several hours when Quentin realized he was beginning to feel tired, stiff and sore from sitting.  He wondered how much longer it would be until daybreak.  This surely had to be one of the longest nights of his life--the only one longer than this was the night he and Beth had been arrested.</div> <div> He tried talking to Barnabas about that night, about his escape from Berlin, and about the dream with Jenny but his cousin had become irritable.  Barnabas' hands had begun to tremble visibly.  Quentin looked up from his own hand and into his cousin's eyes.  What he saw there terrified him.  Barnabas' eyes gleamed coldly in the firelight.  Maybe it was a trick of the firelight and the candlelight, but his eyes seemed to glow with reddish intensity as he stared hard at Quentin.  His features seemed to be stretched tight across his face; he looked almost skeletal.</div> <div>      Quentin felt the warning prickling yet again.  This time, it was accompanied by a sudden surge of adrenaline, and he wanted to throw the cards down and run.  It took all his effort to force himself to stay calm and seated.  "Barnabas?"</div> <div>      "Go to Willie's room NOW Quentin," Barnabas ordered harshly.  "Look in all his drawers.  I know he has a cross there somewhere.  Get it and put it around your neck."</div> <div>      Quentin was frightened.  "Barnabas--?"</div> <div>      "Do it, you fool!" Barnabas roared at him, and Quentin jumped up and ran for the stairs.  Even the Nazis hadn't scared him as much as Barnabas did just now.  He ran down the hall to Willie's room, fumbling in his pockets for matches to light the candles.  The moonlight helped him see clearly enough to touch the match to the candlewick.  <I>My God</I>, he thought, terrified, going through Willie's sock drawer first. Barnabas had threatened him only once before--very briefly when he walked into the mausoleum as his cousin was rising.  </div> <div>      He started searching in another drawer and thought he heard a door close.  He straightened up, listening, hoping his cousin hadn't left the house.  As frightened as he was, he thought that he might still be able to help Barnabas get through the night.  After all, Barnabas hadn't bitten him when he so obviously wanted to.  He finally found the cross in the desk drawer near the window.  He slipped it around his neck, putting it under his shirt.  He wouldn't pull it out unless it was necessary.  As he opened the door, he heard Barnabas cry out:  "Get out!"  He ran back down the hall and down the stairs.</div> <div>      At the foot of the stairs, he froze in horror.  Barnabas had his back turned to him, bending over someone.  There was a sucking sound--almost like a baby nursing.  Here, it was an unnatural sound.  Barnabas leaned over further, supporting a slumping body.  "No!"  Quentin shouted.  He had a feeling he knew who it was.  "Barnabas, stop!"  Barnabas seemed not to hear, so intent he was on his need for blood.</div> <div>      Desperately, Quentin reached for Barnabas shoulder.  He heard an inhuman snarl as Barnabas straightened and backhanded him, hard.  Quentin stumbled backward into the pillar, hitting his head.  He slid down to the floor, stunned.  Sabrina--for that is who it was--collapsed to the floor, and Barnabas turned back to her, bending over her.  <I>Got to stop him</I>, Quentin thought.  He could feel blood running from his nose.  He got back to his feet and moved back toward Barnabas, pulling on him.  "Barnabas, no!  Listen to me!  You don't want to kill her!"</div> <div>      Barnabas got up and grabbed Quentin by the shoulders, pushing him back.  He was incredibly strong.  His eyes blazed with an insane rage.  He didn't seem to recognize Quentin.  Quentin's back was against the pillar now, and Barnabas seemed to be fixated by the blood running from his nose.  "You will not interfere again," Barnabas snarled, his lips and teeth smeared with blood.  He forced Quentin's head to the side and opened his mouth, displaying the deadly fangs. He leaned forward to bite Quentin.</div> <div>      "No!"  Quentin screamed, struggling.  He could feel Barnabas' hot breath on his neck and ear.  He managed to get his hand inside his shirt and pushed the cross out.  </div> <div>      Immediately, Barnabas pulled back, covering his face and shouting in frustrated rage.  "Put it away!  Now!"</div> <div>      "No, I can't do that.  I can't let you kill Sabrina, and I won't let you hurt me!" he shouted, hoping it would get through to Barnabas.</div> <div>      "Oh, my God," he heard Barnabas mutter.  Then he vanished.</div> <div>      Quentin had begun to tremble uncontrollably.  His legs gave out and he slid down the column to the floor again.  He could see Sabrina lying on the floor, unmoving.  He forced himself to crawl over to her.  She was very pale, like death, and she was bleeding heavily from the two puncture wounds.  "What were you doing here?" Quentin asked her, even though he knew she wouldn't be able to answer him.  "Why did you have to come here?"</div> <div>      <I>What should I do</I>?  Take her to Collinwood, hoping Julia would be there?  No--better to go back to Chris' cottage and call Julia.  He cursed Chris. Why had he let Sabrina leave the cottage?  He willed himself to stop trembling and put his hand in front of her nose and mouth.  She was breathing still.  He felt for her pulse.  It was thready, but it was still there.  Carefully, he lifted her into his arms and carried her outside.  He'd take her to the cottage, he decided.</div> <div>      He saw Chris and Julia coming out of the cottage as he carried Sabrina along the path.  They looked worried--they were wondering what had happened to Sabrina, obviously.  He called to them.  Chris was at his side almost immediately.  "Oh, my God!  What happened?"</div> <div>      "Why did you leave her?" Quentin snapped.</div> <div>      "I--I went to get Julia from Windcliff.  She promised me she wouldn't leave--"</div> <div>      "I told you not to leave her!"</div> <div>      "Quentin! Stop that!  Bring her here," Julia cut in.  She led the way to Chris' bedroom, and Quentin gently laid Sabrina on the bed.  He saw a bag of plasma at the foot of the bed.  Julia followed his gaze and said, "I thought it would be a good idea--in case--" she broke off, examining Sabrina.  "Her pulse is rapid and weak.  She must've lost a lot of blood this time."  She glanced back at Quentin.  "Your nose is bleeding," she observed, sounding clinical.</div> <div>      "I couldn't stop him, he was like a madman," Quentin said without thinking.  Julia looked up at him sharply, and he shut his mouth.</div> <div>      It was too late.  Chris pulled him around by the shoulder.  "You KNOW who did this!  I knew it!"  Before Quentin could answer, Chris hit him solidly, and he stumbled backward and went down.  His injured nose spurted with fresh blood.  "Who did this to her?  Tell me!"</div> <div>      "Chris!" Julia said sharply.  "Come here!  I need you!"</div> <div>      Chris wavered; he seemed torn.  Finally, love won out.  However, he pointed his finger at Quentin and said in a threatening tone, "I'm not done with you yet!"</div> <div>      "That's not helpful!"  Julia snapped. </div> <div>      "What are you talking about?  He knows who did this--" Chris stopped speaking abruptly, staring at Julia, shocked.  "You know, too, don't you?"</div> <div>      Julia looked exasperated.  "Chris, please!  We don't want her to die.  Help me!"  Chris began to cooperate, following her directions.  Quentin sat with his back against the wall, feeling exhausted and miserable.  He didn't have a handkerchief with him and wiped his nose on his sleeve, leaving a long smear of bright red blood.  It should stop in a couple minutes, he thought, leaning his head back.  He swallowed the blood in his mouth rather than spit it out on the floor.  It made him feel sick.  He watched Julia and Chris work on Sabrina dully.  He wondered where Barnabas went.</div> <div>      Julia got a line going into Sabrina's vein.  She used a clothes hanger to suspend the bag of plasma over Sabrina's head, hanging it on the molding above the bed.</div> <div>      "Is that going to be enough?" Chris asked.</div> <div>      "I have more, just in case," Julia answered.  "She'll be all right, Chris.  In the morning, we'll take her to Windcliff."</div> <div>      "Windcliff!  What for?"</div> <div>      Julia hesitated.  Then she answered, "To keep her safe."</div> <div>      "But Windcliff--" Chris protested.  Then he looked from Julia to Quentin.  "I want to know what's going on."  When neither spoke up, his voice became harsher.  "I think I have a right to know!  Sabrina is my fiancée!"  He whirled back to Quentin.  "You lied to me!  Why?"</div> <div>      "I'm sorry," Quentin mumbled.  He looked up at Julia for guidance.  He didn't know what to do.  He thought Chris should know the truth, but he didn't think it was his place to tell.  He looked at Julia pleadingly.  He knew she was very protective of Barnabas.  In fact, he could see her jaw setting stubbornly.  Chris looked around at Quentin.  Quentin looked down, guiltily.</div> <div>      Chris walked over and squatted down beside him.  "You said you were going to help me.  How can you help me if you lie to me?  Why should I trust you?"</div> <div>      "Julia--" Quentin pleaded.</div> <div>      "NO," Julia said firmly.</div> <div>      Chris looked at her and then back at Quentin.  "I don't think I want help from either of you!"  He sounded angry--and Quentin couldn't blame him.</div> <div>      "Chris, I'll tell you," Quentin said softly.  "You should know the truth."</div> <div>      "Quentin!"  Julia snapped, warningly.</div> <div>      "Julia, please," Quentin begged.  He didn't want her to be angry with him.  "We know all his secrets.  Shouldn't we trust him with ours?  I know what it's like for him--he deserves to know, please, Julia!"</div> <div>      Julia's eyes blazed with a smoldering fury.  She looked right into Quentin's eyes.  "NO!" she exclaimed in an angry, emphatic tone.  She checked to make sure the line to Sabrina's arm was clear and running, and then she abruptly stalked out of the room.  She didn't want him to tell, but she was removing herself from the room--it was all up to him.  It wasn't fair.</div> <div>      "Quentin!"  Chris' voice had the same pleading tone Quentin's just had.</div> <div>      Quentin swallowed and put his hands on his head.  "Listen, you have to keep this secret, Chris.  You'll be mad because of what's happened to Sabrina, but you can't tell, understand?  Because--because he never meant to hurt Sabrina.  It's not his fault.  He can't help it."</div> <div>      Chris wasn't stupid.  "Barnabas did this?  Why?"</div> <div>      "He was cursed by Jeb."</div> <div>      "He's cursed too?  What kind of curse?"</div> <div>      "He's a vampire."  Chris sat back abruptly, stunned.  He was speechless for a long time, and Quentin didn't know what else to say about it, but then he explained:  "Julia's been trying to help him by developing a serum to try and cure him.  Only it hasn't worked.  It made him worse.  When Sabrina went to see him, he couldn't control himself.  He never meant to hurt her, Chris.  You have to believe that."  Chris looked at him, pale and speechless.  "Listen, he wanted me to stay with him tonight.  He was like a junkie, needing a fix.  I think he would've attacked me, Chris.  He made me go upstairs to get a cross to protect myself.  While I was up there, I guess Sabrina must've come in.."</div> <div>      "Oh, God," Chris groaned.</div> <div>      "I tried to stop him.  I mean, I did stop him."</div> <div>      "Why didn't you tell me before?  Did you think I couldn't be trusted?  I never would've left Sabrina alone if I'd known."</div> <div>      "I know," Quentin said miserably.  "I couldn't.  Not without his permission, or Julia's.  They've done everything they possibly could to help me, too, Chris."</div> <div>      "Julia didn't want you to tell me."  It was a statement.</div> <div>      "No, and she's going to be really mad at me, I'm afraid.  But I thought you had to know."</div> <div>      Chris put out his hand.  "Thank you for telling me the truth.  I'm sorry I slugged you."</div> <div>      Quentin took his hand and shook it. "Ah, it's all right.  I probably deserved to be slugged for something anyway."</div> <div>      Chris gave him an odd look and shook his head, puzzled.  Quentin knew Chris didn't understand him and he was too weary to explain.  "Julia wants to take Sabrina to Windcliff," Chris said doubtfully.  "I don't think it's a good idea.  I don't even like going there."</div> <div>      "As a matter of fact, I have an idea."  This seemed like a good time to bring up Cuddeback.  </div> <div>      Chris reached into his pocket and handed a handkerchief to Quentin. "I musta hit you harder than I thought," he said, somewhat guiltily.</div> <div>      "Nah, Barnabas got there first," Quentin said with a laugh.  He tilted his head back again, pressing the handkerchief to his nose.  "Look, Chris, I wanted to talk to you and Sabrina about an idea I have.  The family has a summerhouse in Port Jervis.  That's in New York.  It's secluded.  The main house has four bedrooms--it's really nice.  There's also three or four cabins still standing there.  Plus there's a dock, and the Delaware River."</div> <div>      "Sounds beautiful," Chris said cautiously.  "What's your idea?"</div> <div>      "It also has a bomb shelter."</div> <div>      "A what?"</div> <div>      "You know--they were built in the 50s and 60s when people were afraid there would be an atomic war," Quentin explained.</div> <div>      Chris got it.  "I could go there when there's a full moon."</div> <div>      "Right.  And you'd be away from people like Bruno--until we can figure out what to do to help--cure you."</div> <div>      Chris considered.  He looked as if he liked the idea.  "Would the family mind?"</div> <div>      "They haven't been there in years, Chris.  I'm not sure they even remember it's there anymore," Quentin answered.</div> <div>      Chris nodded slowly.  "All right.  I like the idea."</div> <div>      Quentin was relieved.  "Great, Chris.  We can take Sabrina and Amy there.  Sabrina can recover, and she'll be safer there.  She'll be far away from Barnabas."</div> <div>      Chris looked over at his fiancée, lying so still on his bed.  "Right.  It'll be good for Amy, too.  But I'm just worried that Amy will find out..."</div> <div>      "Let's worry about one thing at a time, okay, Chris?"  Quentin closed his eyes.  He was very tired.  He still had to deal with Julia and Barnabas, though, and he wasn't looking forward to that at all.  He was afraid they were going to be very angry with him.  Well, he couldn't sit here on the floor of Chris' bedroom the rest of the night.  He opened his eyes again and got up.  "You gonna be all right?"</div> <div>      "Yes, thank you, Quentin."  Chris stepped forward to shake his hand.  They were a little more at ease with each other finally, Quentin thought.  He looked toward Sabrina, still lying motionless and very pale on the bed.  "I'm going to sit with her for awhile."</div> <div>      "I'll let myself out--I'll see you tomorrow, Chris."</div> <div>      He went out into the front room, which was empty.  He didn't think Julia would've gone far--not with a patient to care for.  He went outside and saw her leaning against a tree, smoking.  He walked toward her.  "Julia?" he asked tentatively.     She half-turned toward him but didn't say anything.  "Is she going to be all right?"</div> <div>      "Yes, with the transfusions, she'll be all right.  I'll stay with her until the first transfusion is over and see how she is.  She might need another pint of blood.  How is your nose?"</div> <div>      "It's all right.  I stopped him, Julia.  But I don't know where he went.  He would've killed her--and maybe me, too.  What are we going to do?"</div> <div>      Julia didn't respond to that.  "You told Chris, didn't you?"</div> <div>      "I didn't think it was fair not to.  He trusted you with his secret.  Don't you trust him with Barnabas'?"</div> <div>      Julia turned and glared at him.  "That's not for me to say.  Barnabas didn't want anyone to know.  I certainly hope he can be trusted--for his sake and yours, too!"</div> <div>      "Please don't be mad at me."  Her anger at him dismayed him.  "What was I supposed to do?  You as much told me to tell him by leaving the room."  Julia flushed and opened her mouth to say something and then stopped.  </div> <div>      "I'll have Sabrina taken to Windcliff tomorrow," Julia said coolly.</div> <div>      "Chris doesn't want her to go there."</div> <div>      "We have to protect her from Barnabas.  I'd better talk to him."  </div> <div>      She began to brush by him, but he caught her by the shoulders.  "Julia," he began hesitantly.  "I have an idea.  I talked to Chris about it, and he seemed to like it--"</div> <div>      "What idea?" </div> <div>      "The family has a vacation home they haven't used for years--it's in New York.  It's isolated, not too far from a small town."  He stopped.  Julia was shaking her head, no.  "Julia, it's perfect.  It's got a bomb shelter where Chris can go--he'd be safe from Bruno.  It won't be long before someone else finds out about him, too!"</div> <div>      "And how are we supposed to help him if he's so far away?"  </div> <div>      This was the wrong time to try to talk to her about it, he realized with a sudden certainty, but he was afraid she would talk Chris into bringing Sabrina back to Windcliff.  "I can go.  I can try to help them.  I think that's what Jenny meant in her dream--"</div> <div>      "Quentin, it was just a dream!  With everything that is going on right now, how could we possibly help Chris if he's so far away?  You're not thinking!"</div> <div>      "Actually, I thought I was thinking for a change," he argued, his voice rising.  He stopped.  He didn't want to fight with her.  "We're both tired.  Why don't we talk about it later?"</div> <div>      Her jaw set stubbornly, and he knew he would have just as difficult time with her later as now.  He wondered how Chris would fare against her.  She could be pretty formidable.  She threw her cigarette down and ground it out.  "I'd better go see how Sabrina is doing.  Are you going to Collinwood?  Or the Old House?"</div> <div>      He had to think about it.  He didn't really want to go to either place.  "I did say I'd stay with Barnabas," he said tentatively.  "He left, though. I don't know if he's come back.  He scared me, Julia.  I thought he might kill me.  I never felt as if he would hurt me before."</div> <div>      "I don't know what to do," Julia said, suddenly sounding frightened herself.  "Anything I've tried has just made him worse."  He started to put his arm around her but she deftly moved aside.  "Quentin, go back to the Old House and see if he's there," she said, sounding cool and efficient again.  It was as if she was embarrassed by her show of feeling.  "I don't think he'll hurt you, I really don't.  The injection I gave him must be wearing off by now, surely."</div> <div>      Quentin was hurt by her rejection and thought it was because she was angry with him for telling Chris about Barnabas' secret.  He backed away.  "All right."  He walked down the path, feeling lonely and upset.  He was also afraid.  If Barnabas had come back, what would he be like?  He wondered how long it would be until dawn.  It still looked dark out.  It couldn't be any later than four or five in the morning.</div> <bR> <div> <I>*Note:  Many of my short stories are part of this "universe".  Mrs. Johnson and her sister appear in "The Caretaker's Watch".  Jenny and her multiple personalities are in "Jenny's Story", and Elizabeth's experience with the room in the east wing appears in "Through the Eyes of A Child".</I></div> <div>      </div> <DIV ALIGN="LEFT"></DIV> <div> <A HREF="id121.htm" TARGET="_top" TITLE="12: A Fiendish New Year"><U>12:  A Fiendish New Year</U></A>    <A HREF="id123.htm" TARGET="_top" TITLE="14: Barnabas in Parallel Time"><U>14:  Barnabas in Parallel Time</U></A></div> <div> <A HREF="index.htm" TARGET="_top" TITLE="Cassies Writing"><U>Cassie's Writing</U></A></div> <div>      </div> <div>      </div> <div>      </div> <div>      </div> <bR> <bR> <bR> </td> </tr></table></body>