REVELATION
CHAPTER ONE
"Angelique!" Barnabas said in shock. He watched,
stunned as she moved across the darkened drawing room of
the House by the Sea, her gaze never leaving his
face.
"Hello, Barnabas," she said with a mischievous
smile, her eyes blazing in the moonlight that streamed in
through the window.
How could she be here? He tried desperately to
sort out the conflicting emotions which were cascading
upon him.
He had held her in his arms and watched helplessly
as her life had slipped away, robbed months ago by Lamar
Trask's bullet. She had been human during those last
weeks in 1840 -- and she had died as a human, without the
powers of witchcraft to resurrect herself.
So how could she be here now?
His mind raced. Unless the Angelique in front of
him was from some other point in the time continuum. His
heart froze in fear at that thought. If that were true,
if she did not share the memories he had of those months
in 1840, of the truce -- and later, the genuine affection
and love they experienced. If that were true then she
would be the old, vengeful Angelique.
She was almost close enough to touch him now and
almost instinctively he took a step back. She stopped
and seemed surprised by his reaction. For a fleeting
moment, he thought he saw a hurt expression cross her
face, but if so, it vanished quickly.
"Not exactly the reaction I had hoped for,"
Angelique said with a rueful smile. "But then, my
expectations have often been unrealistic where you are
concerned."
"How can you be here?" Barnabas finally managed.
"I saw you die."
She smiled again -- that maddening smile. "You
have seen that more than once," she told him playfully.
Her face grew serious again, her voice filled with
emotion. "But I always come back to you."
She was standing within arms reach now, her long
blond hair falling about her shoulders, capturing the
moonlight. Her head was tilted slightly as she looked up
at him, her eyes wide and intent, searching his face. He
couldn't be certain in the darkness but it seemed almost
as if they held the hint of tears...
He felt his own emotions running out of control,
one tumbling over the other in a wild cacophony of
confusion. Love. Hate. Fear. All entwined in an
impossibly complex jumble. Emotions as tangled and
interwoven as their lives.
He had reason to fear her. He need look no further
than this house to recall what crimes she was capable of
committing in the name of her love. She had tried to
make him her slave in this house. And she had nearly
succeeded in returning him to the darkness...
But it had also been she who lifted the curse from
him in 1840. It had been her actions which had averted
the disaster which would have claimed them all. A
sacrifice which eventually cost her life. Those were
also her acts of love.
But did she remember those events? In her eyes
were they lovers or enemies?
Before he could move away her hand moved toward
him...
"Maggie," Joe Haskell said firmly as he held his
former fiance by her shoulders. "Maggie, what's wrong?
What have they done to you?"
"Joe?" Maggie mumbled slowly, her face barely
showing any recognition. She stared at him, eyes wide
open now, her mouth moving as if to repeat his name, but
the word froze in her throat as she realized who he was.
Julia Hoffman saw the fear in Maggie's eyes and
quickly stepped forward. Slowly, but resolutely, she put
her hand on Joe's arm that was closest to her and tried
to keep the anxiety she felt from being detected in her
voice. "Maggie has had a very shocking experience
tonight, Joe. I'm trying to take her to her room."
Maggie looked at Julia and then quickly turned
away, nervously looking about the foyer, her attempts to
release herself from Joe's grip becoming what could only
be called a struggle.
"It doesn't seem that she wants your help, Doctor
Hoffman," Joe said angrily. "I'll ask you again, what
did you do to her?"
Julia tried to ignore his violent tone and focused
her attention on Maggie. It didn't take a genius to see
that the girl was close to a total breakdown.
Considering what she had been through tonight, Julia was
amazed that she'd held together this long. But the
surprise of finding Joe Haskell in the foyer of
Collinwood was not doing anything to improve her mental
stability. For an instant her mind flared with rage at
the person who had released him from Wyndecliffe without
her authority. But there would be time enough later to
deal with them.
She took another step closer, virtually wedging
herself between Joe and Maggie. "Your presence here is
upsetting her, Joe. Let go of her."
"We're not at Wyndecliffe anymore, Dr. Hoffman. I
don't have to follow your orders. I'm not going to let
you hurt Maggie!"
"I have no intention of hurting Maggie," Julia said
as she vainly released his arm. It was pointless to try
to match Joe's strength; she would try to break them
apart by reasoning with him instead. "On the contrary,
you seem to be the one who is harming her now."
Joe realized that as the confrontation had
escalated his grip on Maggie's shoulders had tightened to
the point where she was visibly uncomfortable. He
relaxed his hands and she immediately pulled away from
him and stumbled back to the stairs.
She looked from one of them to the other, her eyes
anxious, but already slightly calmer just by being
free.
"Maggie," Joe apologized. "I didn't mean to...I'm
sorry." He took a step forward as he tried to explain
but she threw out an arm, warning him back, the fear
returning to her eyes.
He stopped, as if she had slapped him across the
face. For the first time he saw that she was afraid of
him -- and few things in his life had hurt him more. He
watched painfully as she backed up onto the first step of
the stairs, never taking her eyes off of him.
"What...what are you doing here, Joe?," she finally
cried, as she hastily brushed her hair from her face with
her hand. "Why are you here?" She was practically
screaming the questions.
Stung by her reaction, Joe finally managed an
answer. "I came to see you, Maggie. They released me
today. I'm all right now. But you're not all right,
Maggie. Something is wrong. Something has happened. I
want to help you...if you'll let me."
Maggie stood nervously on the step, poised for
flight. Her eyes left Joe's for only an instant as she
gazed at Julia and the memory of the night's events
flooded over her again.
"No...no, this is too much," she whispered to
herself, her eyes closed. She clutched the bannister to
keep from falling. Joe moved forward, as if to catch
her, but she jerked her head up suddenly and took another
step up the stairs.
"No. Please, no!" she pleaded. "Just leave me
alone!" She gave a quick look at Julia and then turned
and raced up the stairs.
Julia could see the pained expression on Joe's face
as he watched Maggie run across the landing and slam the
door. She went to him and placed a reassuring hand on
his shoulder. "I'll go talk to her."
Joe angrily pulled away. "It looks like you've
already done enough for her, Doctor."
"Joe, you don't understand what's happened here,"
Julia explained. "Maggie's mental condition is in a very
precarious position right now."
He looked back at the landing, a determined look on
his face. "I'm going to talk to her," he said as he
pushed past Julia.
"You could do irreparable harm to her if you
do."
"I'd never harm Maggie," he said, his anger fading
slightly. "You know that."
"Yes, I do," Julia acknowledged confidently, seeing
that she was beginning to get through to him. "I know
that you would never purposefully harm her." She saw the
doubt in his eyes about what to do and took advantage of
the momentary hesitation. "But without meaning to, your
insistence on seeing her right now could be devastating.
Maggie has many unresolved emotions where you are
concerned, Joe. To be forced to deal with them tonight
might be more than she can handle after everything else."
He looked at her suspiciously, feeling that somehow
he was being slightly manipulated. "And what exactly is
`everything else'?"
Now it was Julia's turn to falter. She had no
intention of going into any great detail with him about
their encounter with Nicholas. It was too risky to know
what to reveal until after she had spent time with Maggie
to see how much the girl remembered -- and what she
planned to do with that knowledge.
"It is much too complicated to get into now. And
besides, there is the matter of confidentiality." It was
a weak defense but it was all she could think of under
the circumstances.
A skeptical sneer crossed Joe's face at this
response. "So, you're concern for Maggie is on a
professional basis...as her doctor."
"Yes," Julia said determinedly, lifting her head to
meet his gaze. "And as her friend."
"I'm not so sure you're the best doctor to take
care of Maggie," Joe said flatly.
Julia was not entirely surprised by his tone. With
raised eyebrow she stared him down defiantly. "And why
not? I have helped Maggie in the past."
"Maybe that's the reason you shouldn't be her
doctor now," Joe continued. "Maybe you're just a little
too...personally involved."
"I don't know what you mean," she answered sternly,
her eyes never leaving his as she tried to intimidate
him.
But Joe was not going to be cajoled into
submission. There were no orderlies now to take him back
to his room if his manner became a little too aggressive.
No nurses coming into his room with their hypodermics
and pills. He was a free man -- and the rules had
changed in his favor.
"What I mean is that Maggie's welfare is my chief
concern. Is it yours, Dr. Hoffman? Or are there other
people's interests that you are more concerned
about?"
Julia was stunned by the question. The implied
aspersion to her professional reputation was not what
rankled her so, but rather the fact that Joe would ask
such a question. She had a very good idea to who he was
referring -- and the implications of that were a little
more than what she was expecting. Best to dodge the
whole issue for now.
"I can assure you that Maggie is my chief concern,"
Julia said firmly. "And if you are as concerned about
her welfare as you claim to be you'll stop detaining me
here and let me get to my patient." She could see he was
about to argue so she softened her tone a bit. "Please,
Joe. Let me go to her now and see if I can help. Then
I'll come back down here
and talk to you and be in a better position to explain
things more fully. But right now I really must get to
Maggie."
He hesitated, weighing the sincerity of her words.
His gaze once again went to the closed door at the top of
the landing and his anger helplessly faded to sadness.
Finally he grudgingly nodded.
"I'll wait in the drawing room."
Consciousness came on throbbing splinters of pain
in his temples. As feeling slowly returned to his body
Quentin gradually became aware that he was prone on the
floor. Thoughts began to coalesce a little clearer as he
tried to sort out where he was.
Vicki.
It came back to him now in bits and pieces, like a
badly spliced film... He had chased Vicki through the
West Wing of the house...called out to her as she ran up
the Stairway Through Time...watched as she vanished in
front of his eyes as he stepped on the stairs...
With an effort he forced his arms to push himself
up off the floor. Standing too fast, dizziness and
nausea competed with one another and he closed his eyes
and rubbed a hand against his temple to try and push the
pain away. Thankfully, the wall was there to offer
support. His eyes grew more accustomed to the darkness
and he was thankful for the bright moonlight streaming in
the window at the end of the hall.
In front of him the door stood open revealing the
dark, empty shelves of the linen closet. The Stairway
was gone...and with it, Vicki. Without knowing exactly
how, he knew that he was still in the present. Wherever
Vicki had gone she had gone alone.
But why hadn't he been able to follow? Why had the
staircase worked for her and not him?
The memory of the experience came over him...like
being swept out to sea by the tide, only to be slammed
back to shore...
Was Nicholas somehow responsible? he wondered.
What did he do to her to make her act so strangely?
He stumbled across the hall and peered into the
darkness of the closet. Empty. No hint that it was
anything but what it appeared. Dejectedly he stared at
the shadowed shelves, a feeling of defeat slipping over
him.
"Vicki..." he whispered softly.
Nicholas would pay for this. He would see to that
personally. Then he remembered Blair's threat to the
family and wondered how long he had been unconscious.
For all he knew, Blair was still in the house carrying
out his vengeance.
With a sense of failure, he closed the door of the
linen closet and hurried down the hall toward the main
part of the house.
Maggie slammed the door to her room and quickly
turned the key that she always kept in the lock.
She had made it. No one or nothing had stopped
her. As she had run through the house she had half
expected something to happen to keep her from the
relative safety of her room. But she had made it. She
was safe here.
Then she noticed that the room was in shadow; the
only light coming from the small nightlight on the other
side of the bed. Panic seized her as she stared into the
dark corners of the room.
The darkness terrified her. Thoughts became more
jumbled... Sharp things that cut, hurting her, tearing
at her soul.
Make them go away. Make it all go away.
As if in answer to a command, her mind responded.
Beyond the pain, past the jagged edges of her memory, was
a dark cloud of relief that floated on the horizon of her
consciousness. It had come to her before when she had
needed it and now, like an old friend, she could sense it
moving closer...
No.
Its soft border smoothed the barbed edges of her
memories, wore them down until they were small and flat
and palatable, only to finally vanish in the fog
completely...one by one.
No. Not again.
Other memories now. Less threatening, but no less
horrible. The months in Wyndecliffe... the shame she
felt for the breakdown...the unanswered questions...
It was as if she were divided; part of her wanting
to forget, the other part holding on desperately for the
answers to long held questions. Both wanting the same
thing -- to survive.
It would be so easy.
The cloud moved closer, blown by the winds of her
terror. Her mind recoiled at what she had endured at
Barnabas' hands...at Nicholas', as well. Deceived.
Exploited. Victimized.
But you don't have to be a victim.
The thought came from somewhere deep within her and
with an intensity and clarity she had never experienced.
With a strength she did not know she possessed she willed
herself away from the abyss of amnesia that was
threatening to consume her again.
Her eyes flew open and she stared about the
darkened room. She took another deep breath and put a
hand to her mouth. She was still filled with panic, but
this time it would not control her.
She would have to turn on the light on the vanity.
Giving the bed a wide berth, she nervously fumbled for
the light, grateful for the feel of the knob and the
clicking sound that followed. Warm light filled the room
and her head slumped wearily with relief.
How long had she stood there by the door? She
couldn't say. The mental victory she had just scored had
left her weak and shaking. Or was it the knowledge which
that victory had brought her the true cause of her
trembling? She was terrified -- but she was herself.
Whole. Complete. For the first time in years.
The memories inundated her now, and though they
were no less horrible than before, they would not consume
her this time. She would face the truth -- no matter
what the consequences.
The knock on the door caught her by surprise.
Startled, she merely stared at it, not knowing what to
do.
"Maggie. It's Julia. May I come in?"
Slowly she moved around the foot of the bed, never
taking her eyes from the door. The terror rose again but
she pushed it down, determined not to be ruled by it.
"Maggie, please. I'm worried about you."
She sounds sincere, Maggie thought, as she reached
out for the door knob. But what did that mean? How
could she believe anything that came out of Julia's
mouth?
Nervously, she pulled her hand back just as her
fingers grazed the shiny knob. She bit her bottom lip as
her confusion mounted.
"Maggie," Julia called in a softer voice. "I know
you have every reason to have doubts about me but you
must believe me when I say that I want to help you."
Anger made the decision for her and Maggie reached
out and suddenly opened the door. "Help me?," she
flared. "Like you helped me years ago, Julia?"
Julia's eyes flew open wide, startled by the fury
in Maggie's face. "Can we discuss this in your
room?"
She hesitated a moment and then stepped back,
indicating that Julia could enter. Maggie noticed that
Julia had her doctor's bag with her -- and that she was
alone; she'd half expected Joe to be with her. "Where's
Joe?"
"He's downstairs," Julia explained, setting her bag
down on the bed and turning to look at Maggie. "I didn't
think you were up to seeing him now."
"Afraid of what we might discuss?" Maggie
snapped.
Julia recoiled, as if stung. "That...that's not
why I asked him to stay downstairs..."
"You were just watching out for my welfare," Maggie
said sarcastically, surprised at the intensity of her
animosity. So much anger and resentment churned within
her, there was little she could do to stop it from coming
out. And right now, she saw no reason to even try.
Julia had recovered quickly from the initial verbal
attack and was already assessing how best to approach the
situation and deal with this hostility. "Whether you
choose to believe me or not, that is exactly what I am
doing," Julia answered firmly, never taking her eyes off
of Maggie.
Maggie seemed on the verge of challenging this but
already her anger was ebbing, replaced by confusion once
again. "Right now I don't know what to believe."
"I can understand how you must feel..."
"Can you, Julia?" Maggie asked. "Can you really?
Somehow, I have a little trouble believing that." She
turned away from the other woman and paced the length of
the room. "Or maybe I shouldn't have trouble believing
that. After all, you do probably know me better than
anyone else. For months we were together at Wyndecliffe.
I was like a child then. A terrified child. I told you
everything about my life. There was no aspect of it you
didn't know about eventually during those months of
therapy. So maybe you do understand when I tell you I've
never felt so betrayed!"
"Maggie," Julia began painfully, but Maggie cut her
off again as the anger returned in full force.
"I trusted you, Julia! I thought you were my
friend! And all the time you were helping him!"
"Not in the beginning," Julia said, realizing the
words sounded like an admission of guilt. "I didn't
learn the truth until after I came to Collinsport. Your
case offered the rare opportunity to explore an area of
science that, until my studies, was considered a
myth."
"That `case' was my life, Julia!" Maggie screamed.
"A life Barnabas nearly destroyed."
"I believed I could treat you both
successfully."
"How could you help him knowing what he'd done to
me?" Maggie demanded.
"Because he was as worthy of help as you were,"
Julia countered firmly. "I've made some terrible
mistakes in the past but helping Barnabas was not one of
them. I know you have every reason to doubt me, but I am
asking you to believe me when I say that however right or
wrong my actions may have been I was always motivated by
your well being just as much as his."
"How do you expect me to believe that?" Maggie
asked incredulously. But unmistakably there was the hint
in her tone that she wanted to believe what Julia was
saying.
"I brought you here, didn't I?" Julia pointed out.
She hesitated, wondering how far she should push this --
how many unpleasant memories she should dredge up. "I
could have just as easily taken you down to the cellar of
the Old House and kept you there."
Maggie flinched visibly with the recollection of
her prison and Julia wondered for a moment if this memory
was too painful; if she had pushed her too far. So much
depended on her regaining Maggie's trust -- at least
partially. But she could see that Maggie was hesitating,
weighing the logic of Julia's words.
"Barnabas would never do such a thing," Julia
continued, hoping that she sounded convincing. She had
her own doubts about the veracity of this statement but
she couldn't allow Maggie to see that. "He is not the
same man as he was in 1967."
"He wasn't a man at all," Maggie said, unable to
keep the terror out of her voice.
"No...no he wasn't," Julia answered haltingly. It
was difficult to break old habits, and it seemed almost
surreal to be so open with Maggie about Barnabas. "But
he is now. And that is what you have to focus on,
Maggie. Barnabas is a man again. He is not that
crazed..." She searched for the proper word, unable to
find the one she was looking for.
"Creature?" Maggie supplied.
"Yes. For lack of a better term," Julia
agreed.
"There is a better term," Maggie said. "Vampire."
She practically spat the word.
"All right, then...vampire," Julia repeated as she
stepped closer.
The last vestiges of composure were falling once
again from Maggie. With the utterance of the word a
flood of memories came to the surface... Walking through
the woods, as if in a dream, not knowing where she was
going but feeling the tug of his mind...seeing him
standing in the shadow of some tree...waiting. The soft
caress of his lips on her throat.... Then other memories
broke through: ...the subtle brainwashing... resisting
his will...holding on to her own identity...the
punishments...trapped in the coffin...
"No one should be allowed to go unpunished for what
he did to me!" Maggie cried.
"Normally I would agree with you," Julia told her
as she moved closer. She watched Maggie intently, not
wanting to push her too far. "But these are not normal
circumstances. You must try to understand that Barnabas
at that time was consumed by...by forces which he could
not control. The curse...or disease from which he
suffered controlled him."
"He was evil!" Maggie declared as she remembered
her torment.
"Yes...yes, he was," Julia admitted. "But he is
not under that curse any longer and the memory of what he
did while he suffered from it is a more cruel punishment
than you or I could ever imagine."
This seemed to stir something with Maggie. Her
eyes lost some of their fire and she turned away from
Julia, who lost no time in pressing the argument.
"You are remembering the Barnabas that was," Julia
began. "But you are forgetting the man that you've known
these last several years. The man who has helped and
protected this family by placing his own life in danger
time and time again...as he did tonight with
Nicholas."
Julia could sense Maggie tense at the mention of
Nicholas' name and watched silently as she slowly turned
to face her, a pained, quizzical look on her face which
seemed almost childlike.
"He...he was going to..." Maggie began haltingly,
but then put a hand to her mouth as if to silence
herself.
"How much of that do you remember, Maggie?" Julia
asked.
Maggie's eyes grew wide with terror, as this other
horror was recalled. Another betrayal. "I..I remember
candles...lots of candles, and Nicholas talking so
seriously...and a knife. He had a knife..."
"Nicholas was going to use the knife on you,
Maggie," Julia told her quietly. "In a ceremony that
would tie you to him for all eternity."
"Eternity..." Maggie repeated, feeling somewhat
dazed.
"Nicholas was not a normal man," Julia explained.
"He was a warlock. And the ceremony he was performing
was a Black Mass which would have cost you your
life...and more...if Barnabas hadn't stopped him."
With difficulty she tried to sort out the cluttered
conflicting memories of that evening. She vaguely
recalled lying on a hard surface, Nicholas standing over
her with a knife...then other voices...a struggle...then
Barnabas helping her off the strange...altar... Then
Nicholas again, his face twisted with hatred, threatening
to destroy Barnabas and Julia...his screams as the flames
consumed him...
"What happened to Nicholas?" Maggie asked as that
image crystallized in her mind.
"I wish I knew for certain," Julia confessed.
"Evidently he was destroyed, but we have believed that to
be so before."
"I...I can't believe it..." Maggie finally
managed.
"Maggie, this is an incredible amount of
information for you to deal with at one time," Julia
explained as she went to her bag. "You're very upset.
Let me give you a sedative."
A hint of alarm and distrust returned to her eyes
as she looked at Julia. "No. I don't want anything. I
won't take any kind of sedative, Julia."
Julia hesitated and realized she had gone over the
boundary that Maggie had established. Obviously Maggie
wasn't going to trust her enough to allow her to give her
a drug. "Very well. But you must try to remain as calm
as possible."
"How can you expect me to remain calm?"
"I don't. In fact, I'd be more concerned about you
if you were totally calm right now. I'm only suggesting
that you try to put things into perspective."
"My sense of perspective is a little off balance
right now, Julia," Maggie said sarcastically. Julia was
delighted with the response. If Maggie could make even
this slight attempt at humor then perhaps there was some
hope. Maybe she had been listening to everything she'd
been telling her after all.
"I'm merely asking is that you look at things as
they are now, in the present. I'm not trying to minimize
what happened to you, I'm only suggesting that you not
let the past distort the present," Julia told her. "We
are your friends, Maggie. Especially Barnabas. It
wasn't so long ago that the two of you were very
close."
"This is all happening so fast," Maggie said as she
began pacing again. "I don't know what to do."
"Don't do anything," Julia suggested. "At least,
not right away. Give yourself time to sort things
out."
Maggie looked at her, still wary, but feeling some
of the warmth of their friendship returning. "I'm
frightened, Julia."
Julia moved closer and took Maggie's hand
reassuringly. "I can understand why you would be," she
admitted. "But you have nothing to fear from Barnabas or
myself. I promise you that, Maggie...as your
friend."
Doubts and confusion continued to plague her. She
wanted so much to believe Julia. To know that in this
maelstrom of uncertainty that she could count on someone
or something as being constant. And yet, it was this
very lose of faith that was the source of her turmoil.
And then another thought crossed her mind...
"Joe." Maggie said suddenly. "Is he still
here?"
"He's waiting in the drawing room," Julia told her.
"I suggested he stay there until after I talked with
you." Julia tilted her head and eyed Maggie curiously.
"Do you want to see him now?"
Maggie looked away, a little ashamed at her answer.
"No. Not now."
"I don't know if he'll settle for that," Julia
explained. "He seems very determined to see you."
Another situation to confront. But not now. She
simply couldn't deal with seeing Joe now.
"Tell him...tell him that I'm just not up to it
tonight. Maybe tomorrow...." She turned and looked at
Julia again, the pain and confusion clearly evident on
her face. "I just can't see him tonight, Julia."
"I understand," Julia said as she picked up her bag
from the bed. "And I think he will, too."
Maggie stood in the center of the room and watched
as Julia walked to the door. "May I stop back by later
and check on you?" Julia asked.
After hesitating a moment, Maggie merely nodded.
No doubt she would have more questions to ask by that
time.
Tenderly her fingers caressed the hollow of his
cheek.
"You're...frightened of me," Angelique said,
astonished. She appeared reflective for a moment and
then smiled once again. "Of course, you would be."
"You've given me ample cause to fear you in the
past," Barnabas told her sternly. He had not intended
for her to sense his apprehension.
She had turned away from him and was looking about
the room. "The past...," she murmured almost to herself.
"Our pasts are more intertwined than you know, Barnabas.
We are bound together, you and I. For all
eternity."
"If you mean as one of the undead I should point
out that I am free of the curse."
"Thanks to me," she reminded as she turned toward
him again. He had missed the true meaning of her words
completely.
He felt some relief at this admission. "Then you
remember removing the curse in 1840?"
"I remember many things from our time together in
the past," she replied, stepping closer. She looked up
at him, feeling the attraction between them once again;
reveling in being near him. She could not stop herself
from reaching out and resting a hand on his chest. "Many
wonderful things."
This time he did not pull away, caught up in the
moment as well. The fear receded in his eyes -- but did
not vanish completely. He reached up and clasped her
hand in his. "As do I..."
Her eyes held him, large and full of love as she
reached out once again and touched his face. "Oh,
Barnabas. I did not believe I would ever see you again,"
she cried, her voice quivering with emotion.
"Nor I, you, Angelique," he admitted, allowing his
own feelings for her to show. But then he straightened,
as a puzzled look returned to his face. "But I do not
understand how you have returned. I am a normal man
again...as you were a normal woman when Trask shot
you."
Her mood changed at the mention of Trask' name.
She pulled away from him then. "Yes...I was a mortal
woman then...and died as one."
The change in her demeanor puzzled him. She seemed
almost angry, as if she did not wish to discuss the
matter. But he had to know...to understand how she could
be here now. "Angelique, then how did you..."
She finished the sentence for him. "...return to
you?" she said cleverly, knowing that wasn't exactly what
he was asking. "What difference does it make, as long as
I'm here?"
"It makes a difference to me." Barnabas told
her.
"Why?" she asked pointedly, the fire in her eyes
rising. "When I laid dying in your arms you confessed
your love to me. At last I heard the words I had waited
so long to hear from you. Do you still feel that way,
Barnabas? Even if my mere presence here proves that I am
no longer mortal?"
He wavered, not knowing what to say -- or what he
felt. Why was there always such conflict in every aspect
of him when he dealt with her? His own anger began to
rise. "Your powers give you a capacity for cruelty that
you don't possess without them."
She stared at him knowingly and managed a small
smile. "They are also capable of acts of love, as you
found out tonight."
He looked at her with surprise. "You!" he
announced. "It was you who destroyed Nicholas."
Her smile broadened and she tilted her head as if
in a slight bow. "Yes. He can be so careless, at
times."
"And the Mask?" he asked.
"Safely hidden," she told him smugly.
He gave her a significant look, as if she had just
proved his point. "And was Nicholas' destruction and act
of love for me or revenge for yourself?"
"Both," she responded unhesitatingly. "Had I not
dealt with him you and Julia would be dead...and I would
have been denied the opportunity to give him the fate he
so richly deserves."
Her hatred for Nicholas was clearly evident on her
face. A familiar look, one that he had seen there for
him in the past. He moved closer and asked once again, "
Why have you come back? To regain the Mask for your own
uses?"
She looked at him, hurt by the accusatory tone of
his voice; the distrust that had returned to his face.
Her own anger flared but she forced it under control.
No, she must not be pulled into petty arguments. There
was too much to be done.
"All will be made clear to you, Barnabas...in
time." She gave him one of her most aggravating smiles.
He was about to continue his questions but before he
could say anything else she placed her hand on his chest
once again as if to silence him. "We'll see one another
again, very soon. But right now you have other problems
to deal with."
With a small sense of shame he remembered the
reason he had come to this house. Elliot's body lie in
the basement. The authorities would have to be notified.
He looked at Angelique and she could almost read the
thoughts in his mind.
"I could not help Stokes," she told him. "I truly
wish I could have. I rather admired his...tenacity."
Barnabas saw with pleasant surprise that she
appeared sincere in this regret. He left her side and
headed for the hallway, taking a moment at the door to
look back at her. "Will you be here when I return?"
"No," she told him assuredly. "But we'll see each
other again very soon."
It was pointless to question her further. He had
seen that determined look and recognized the tone of her
voice. There would be no further information forthcoming
from her now. For the time being, he would have to take
her at her word.
As he walked down the stairs to the basement he
realized it was not something he could do very
easily.