Collinsport Beach

Plunging headlong, Quentin managed to tackle Joe Haskell, just as he struck out with the wooden stake aimed at Angelique’s breast. They wrestled momentarily in the sand, but Joe’s middle-aged body was no match for Quentin’s youthful agility.

Angelique tore away from young Damien’s grasp and in an instant had flung Quentin off of Joe and was malevolently menacing him with bared fangs. He had dropped the stake in brawling with Quentin and was searching fearfully for it.

“Angelique!” Barnabas called out, having reached within six feet of the scene. “No!”

Angelique paid Barnabas no heed, her own mind being driven beyond all hearing by the bloodlust she had been combatting throughout the night.

Quentin recovered quickly and was back upon Angelique, knocking her into the sand from the side. Joe scrambled to his feet and searched again for the stake while Quentin grappled with the vampiress.

“Damien! Come here!” Barnabas commanded the boy to prevent him from getting between the combatants.

Damien obeyed.

Joe located the stick in the moonlight and rushed up behind Angelique with it. She was locked hand to hand facing Quentin, who was holding on to her with all his might, not much of a match, but adequate to keep her fangs from plunging into his own neck.

As Joe lifted the stake once again to attack Angelique from behind, Quentin cried out, “Not in front of the boy, Joe!”

For an instant, Joe glanced over at Damien and Barnabas. His hesitation was enough for Angelique to whip around and bear down on him again.

Joe tried to drive the stake home, but Angelique grabbed his arm with her powerful arm and dug sharp fingernails through his coat into his flesh. He cried out in pain and let the stake drop.

Quentin tried to jump her from behind, but she was prepared this time and hurled him with her other arm backwards into the sand.

The Beach House

Randall Drew pulled his cruiser in behind the two other cars already parked next to the Collins beach house where Chad Jenkins was supposedly staying. Alex Collins got out of the passenger side as Randall left his place behind the wheel.

The beach and ocean was still veiled somewhat in darkness. Randall saw people out on the beach, but figured they were searchers convocating. Dawn had almost arrived.

The lights in the house were still lit, but had they been dark, Sheriff Drew would still not have hesitated to knock.

They waited a moment and then he knocked a second time.

Eventually, a drawn and pale man answered the door-Chad Jenkins.

“Good evening, Chad,” Randall said. He was a bit shocked at the man’s appearance, though he didn’t show it. “May we come in?”

Chad glanced weakly at Alex who apologized with his eyes.

Sheriff Drew made a mental note of how easily the two men communicated without words, hardly indicative of a casual friendship.

Chad stood back and allowed the two men to enter. He was frightened and didn’t know where his mistress had gone.

“Who owns the Rolls Royce?” Sheriff Drew asked.

“What Rolls Royce?” Chad answered feebly.

“The one parked out next to the house,” Randall remarked.

Alex answered, “It looks like the one belonging to Barnabas Collins.”

“Is Mr. Collins here?” Sheriff Drew asked Chad.

“I don’t know Mr. Collins,” Chad said, “and you woke me up, so I don’t know who is here.”

“Where is Miss DuVal?” the sheriff asked. “That is her name, isn’t it, Mr. Collins?

Alex nodded.

Chad said, “I don’t know. Like I said, I was sleeping. I’ve been very ill lately.”

“So I’ve heard.”

“Shouldn’t you be out searching for Damien Collins?” Chad asked after flopping down in a chair.

“I have plenty of people out doing that for me. I’m making inquiries that I think may be related,” Randall affirmed.

“And you think I have something to do with Damien’s disappearance?” Chad asked.

“Not directly, but I find it odd that you’ve been here this whole time while your mother has been frantic with worry about you and all the while, Damien’s father knew you were here. It stands to reason that two disappearances in the same small town are somehow related, wouldn’t you think?”

“I came to work for Miss DuVal, got very sick and asked her to call Mother. She forgot. That’s all.”

“When was the last time you saw Damien Collins?” Randall pressed.

“Why do you ask me that? I don’t even know the boy.”

“You and the boy’s father are friends, aren’t you?”

Chad looked up at Alex, who nodded to him. “Yes, but I’ve never met his son.”

“I don’t understand what Damien’s disappearance has to do with me,” Chad protested.

Randall said accusingly, “How many times have you been arrested and cited with public indecency or lewd conduct out at the highway rest area?”

“Oh,” Chad said with some animation, “So that’s it! A boy disappears and you look at the town homosexual! Well, Sheriff Drew, I may be gay, but I’m not a pedophile. There IS a difference, you know.”

“Oh,” the sheriff menaced, “I know there’s a difference, but your activities out at the rest area have nothing to do with you being gay. Yours are the actions of a hard-core sex addict. You’ve been with minors before, though I admit you may not have known they were minors. We’ve been easy on you, but I promise you that if you had anything to do with the disappearance of Damien Collins, you’ll rot in jail for the rest of your life.”

Alex spoke up, “Chad is not like that, Sheriff Drew!”

Randall turned towards Alex. “How would you know?”

Alex hung his head, not having been prepared to answer once he’d let loose with his comment. “You guessed right, Sheriff. Chad and I are more than just friends, but we’re not lovers. I’m gay too and Chad and I are very close. He’s got a lot of problems. We’ve got a lot of problems, but he had nothing to do with Damien’s disappearance. I’m sure of that.”

Finally, having the truth from both men, Randall was convinced he was not following a fresh lead.

“All right, Chad. I’m finished with you for now. Remember what I said.”

Chad slumped backwards into his chair.

“Mr. Collins,” Randall said to Alex, “May I drop you off at home?”

“Yes, please,” Alex said.

Collinsport Beach

Angelique opened wide her mouth and drew her prey towards her lips and protruding fangs. She moved to attack Joe’s neck but was stopped when a searing pain went through her right shoulder. She wheeled around, dropping Joe, and saw standing there, poised and frightened, Maggie Haskell, brandishing a small crucifix.

Quentin had climbed to his feet and was trying to interject some calm into the situation. Barnabas had fully arrived at the scene also.

Angelique was surrounded, Maggie on one side with her tiny crucifix, Quentin advancing slowly, Barnabas and Damien pleading on another side, and Joe Haskell looking again for his weapon of destruction. Thus cornered, her animal instincts took over and she rushed for the weakest link in the human chain that proposed to capture her-Barnabas.

Before anyone could react, she had knocked him to the ground and attacked him, burying her fangs briefly into his neck, and took a small but satisfying drink. Then she darted up the beach, blood staining her lips.

Maggie was on Barnabas in an instant, applying pressure to his bleeding neck.

Damien began to cry, “Grandmother! Come back!” As he started to run towards the house where Angelique had headed, Quentin grabbed him and held him.

Joe also took off in that direction, so Quentin released Damien after commanding him to stay, and tackled Joe again.

“Let me go, Quentin. I have to destroy her before she finds another victim,” Joe pleaded.

“It’s almost dawn, Joe. There’s plenty of time for that now. I need you to help your wife care for Barnabas while I keep Damien from following Angelique.”

Damien was already moving in that direction again and calling out to Angelique. The house was still a long way away, and his cries were lost in the wind.

Joe nodded, the back of his head brushing the wet sand under him. Quentin released him and caught Damien again.

Angelique ran up the beach towards her house, her mouth covered in Barnabas’ blood. Her visage was contorted into an evil delightedness, so that her once lovely features were completely gone. Her flowing white gown rippled in the wind and the flow of air as she ran. With superhuman strength, she tore through the dunes of sand and towards her house.

Fear soon replaced the satiated feeling as she realized how close the dawn was and how unsafe her coffin would be throughout the day. Was there time for an alternative? The world was becoming lighter and lighter by the minute and soon the sun itself would be a tiny arc in the eastern sky. She had only a few minutes to decide.

Ahead of her, coming down from the house were two men. Her night vision told her that it was Alex Collins and a policeman. They had no doubt been round to see Chad again. She knew she could not go forward without being followed into the house.

“Stop right there!” she heard the policeman call out as he raised his weapon at her.

She knew the gun could not hurt her, but did not want to be seen any closer by him. Her decision was made for her. She could not return to her coffin. Standing still, she summoned her immense willpower to her and vanished from the sight of the advancing men.

“Did you see that?” Alex said fearfully.

“Yes, I did,” answered Randall. “The White Lady! And she disappeared right before our eyes.”

“I always thought the White Lady was one of those stories people tell to scare children,” Alex said.

“Obviously she’s real,” the sheriff answered.

Eagle Hill Cemetery

In front of the grave of Valerie and Miranda Collins, the vampire Angelique appeared. Somewhere in the distance, a rooster crowed and Angelique knew the sun was appearing over the water in the distant eastern horizon. She bent over her own grave and dug with fervent and superhuman haste until she had a shallow grave dug in the dirt. Lying down in it, she pulled the dirt back over her and covered herself, then wiggled her arms under the surface of the ground so that she was completely covered. Here she would stay until dusk.

Collinsport Beach

Barnabas groaned. Quentin released Damien, who had ceased to struggle, and came over to where Maggie and Joe were trying to help Barnabas.

Barnabas was conscious and Maggie had stopped the bleeding. Joe had helped Barnabas to sit up in the sand.

“Father!” cried out Damien and he ran towards two men coming from the house.

Joe turned to watch Damien go. Quentin did not pursue this time.

“Quentin, Maggie, Joe,” Barnabas said, “Do not tell them about Angelique!”

Joe protested. “You can’t ask me to do that, Barnabas. I will not be her victim again and I won’t let anyone else. She must be destroyed.”

“Joe,” Quentin said, “Listen to me.”

“It’s no use talking me out of it, Quentin. I’m going to do whatever I have to do to destroy that vampire.”

“Think back, Joe,” Maggie said. “What do you know about her? What is in your heart about Angelique? It’s been suppressed by drugs, but you have some memories of things that are not your own memories. I know, because the same thing happened to me with Barnabas. In the exchange of blood, I somehow gained memories of Barnabas’ life. I forgot them for a while because of Julia’s treatment, the same treatment she gave you, but if you try, you’ll remember.”

Joe thought for only a brief moment. He could remember no such thing, but he relented when he saw that Maggie appeared to be against him.

“All right, Maggie,” Joe said. “I’ll wait for now. She’s going to be up there in her coffin all day, so like Quentin said, there’s plenty of time.”

Barnabas sighed a “thank you” and then passed out.

Soon, the four were joined by Sheriff Drew and Alex Collins to whom clung Damien, his son.

“What is going on here?” Randall demanded.

Maggie spoke, “Mr. Collins here was attacked by an animal, probably a large bat.”

Sheriff Drew knelt down and examined Barnabas’ neck.

“I see,” the sheriff said suspiciously. “How is it that you come to have Damien Collins with you when the entire town is out looking for him?”

Quentin answered, “Only Barnabas can answer that, and he’s passed out. Damien was here with him.”

“Damien?” Alex asked. “Where have you been?”

“With Grandfather,” Damien said, “Pointing at Barnabas.”

Alex replied to the little boy, “But Damien, Mr. Collins isn’t your grandfather. Your grandfather was my father, Ambrose Collins.”

“I know, Father,” Damien said, “But Barnabas is like my great-great-great-something-grandfather.”

“Did he tell you that?” the sheriff asked the boy.

“No,” Damien said. “Josette did.”

“Who is Josette?” Randall Drew asked everyone.

Quentin answered, “The only Josette I know of is the Collins ancestor who is said to haunt these parts.”

“Ah,” Randall said, recalling the Collinsport legend. “Damien,” he addressed the boy again, “Are you talking about Josette Collins?”

“I don’t know. It’s just this lady that comes into my room and plays with me in the woods. She’s always dressed in an old white dress and she’s very pretty.”

Sheriff Drew looked at Alex, who acknowledged the thought that passed between them.

“A lady dressed in white?” the sheriff asked.

“Yes, Josette, my friend,” Damien answered.

“Why did Mr. Collins bring you down here to the beach?”

“We were looking for Grandmother, his wife,” Damien said. “Josette told me to do that.”

“Who is your grandmother?” Alex asked.

“I don’t know her name, but she was here. She’s the one who bit Grandfather. She must’ve been really angry.”

Maggie hated to do it, but she had to disrupt this questioning to throw the sheriff off. “Sheriff Drew, I am not the boy’s doctor, but I am a psychiatrist and I really don’t think you should press the boy for any more details. I’ll tell you anything I know. The boy is exhausted and his father should take him home. I need to get Barnabas Collins off this cold sand and back to his home.”

“Shouldn’t he go to the hospital?” the sheriff asked.

“I don’t think so. Mr. Collins is aged and has a rare blood condition. His personal physician, Dr. Hoffman, is at the Old House and best equipped to care for him. She has everything she needs there.”

Randall Drew was not pleased with the idea of all of his witnesses dispersing, but realized that Damien was probably in bad need of rest.

“All right, Dr. Haskell, I’ll let you take Mr. Collins home. Before I send Damien home instead of to the hospital, if you’ll check him over and certify that he’s not suffering from exposure or anything but the need for a lot of sleep, I’ll let him go home too.”

Turning to Quentin, Sheriff Drew said, “And you, Mr. Quentin Collins, I would like very much to talk to you about all this. You seem to be the only one here not needed for anything else.”

“I’d be happy to talk to you, Sheriff, and tell you anything I can. Will you allow me to help my cousin home and then I’ll come right to your office?” Quentin asked.

“Thank you. I think instead that you should go ahead and help get your cousin home. I’ll come ’round in a little while after I get a few things taken care of. Perhaps then Barnabas Collins will be able to answer some questions for me too.”

Using his radio, Sheriff Drew spoke to his deputy and called off the search. He drove Alex and Damien Collins to Rose Cottage while Quentin, Joe, and Maggie went with Barnabas to the Old House. Quentin led the way in his car, followed by the other three in the Rolls being driven by Joe.

Collinsport Inn

“Thank you, Sheriff Drew,” Laura Collins said into the telephone. “Yes, I’ll come and see him this afternoon, after he’s had a chance to rest…Good-bye.”

Turning to Raymond Murdoch, she said, “They found him. He was with Barnabas Collins.”

“What?! Why was he with Barnabas Collins?” Murdoch asked.

“The sheriff didn’t know. Barnabas could not be questioned. He had passed out, bitten by some wild animal.”

Murdoch smiled cruelly. “I must remember to thank Miranda for her assistance.”

Laura frowned. “Don’t be too grateful. She still may be a threat to us. I wish you had just left her in the grave.”

“Not possible, my dear. The Master wanted her punished.”

“If he weren’t always so vindictive, we’d have a much easier time doing our work,” Laura grumbled.

“Careful, Laura,” he cautioned. “Now, tell me about Damien.”

“He’s resting at home. Alex plans to let him sleep all day and I doubt they’d let us see him right now.”

“I don’t really care to see him right now. I just want to know where the painting is. Did he have it with him when they found him?”

“I don’t think so. I couldn’t come right out and ask Sheriff Drew, but he didn’t mention it. At least we have this one,” she said, pointing at the older painting done by Sam Evans.

“This one will help us with David, but not with Damien,” he reminded her. “We must find the other, or have another one painted.”

“Such a nuisance!” Laura complained. “That Pansy Faye spirit is difficult to control, especially with that other Faye spirit always interfering. Couldn’t we get someone other than Trina Collins to do it? The village is full of artists.”

“Yes, but we don’t know enough about them to know whom we could get to possess them. We could do it, but it would take time and we have very little time left,” Murdoch said.

Collinwood Cottage

“Well done, Mr. Loomis,” Clive Broman congratulated Willie. “Our possession of this painting will surely be a thorn in the side of the phoenix. ”

“I hope it isn’t dangerous for you t’ have it, Professor Broman,” Willie said.

“To be honest, Mr. Loomis, it is dangerous, but not as dangerous for me to have it as it is for Damien to have it.”

“Do you want me to stay here then?” Willie offered. “Or should I go out and help with the search for Damien?”

“Oh,” said Ramona Broman, “you haven’t heard that Damien has been found.”

“No, I didn’t know,” Willie said.

“Yes. Your wife called and told us. She’s still down at Rose Cottage with Mrs. Collins,” Mrs. Broman said.

“I-I’m happy about that,” Willie said. “I think I’ll go down over to Rose Cottage and see what I can do.” Glancing sidelong at the painting he said, “Unless you need me to stay here.”

“Thank you, Mr. Loomis,” Broman said. “That won’t be necessary. I assure you we’ll be very careful.”

The Old House

Julia awakened. It had been a late night at the Bromans, though she did not yet realize she had gotten more sleep than most residents of Collinsport. It was just after dawn and the sun was lighting her Old House bedroom.

Barnabas would be awake already. He loved to get up early and watch the sunrise. It had become a daily task for him, and no matter how poorly he felt, he always beat the sun in rising.

As she sat up, there was a knock at her bedroom door.

“Yes?” she called out.

The door opened slowly. It was Hiro.

He bowed and said, “Dr. Hoffman, please forgive the intrusion, but Barnabas is not in the house and the Rolls Royce is gone.”

Julia sat straight up and threw back the covers. “While I get dressed, awaken Chris and Sabrina and see if they know anything.”

Hiro bowed and left.

Julia had just finished dressing when she heard a commotion downstairs. Quickly, she grabbed her medical bag and went down to the drawing room. There, Maggie, Joe, and Quentin were hovering over Barnabas, who slumped unconscious in his easy chair. Hiro was there also.

“What has happened?” Julia demanded as she pushed through the crowd.

Immediately, she saw the two puncture wounds in Barnabas’ neck. “No!” she cried. “Who was it? Who did this to Barnabas?”

Quentin put a hand on her shoulder. “It was Angelique, Julia. Angelique is not dead, at least not completely dead.”

“I must act quickly,” Julia said as she knelt down next to Barnabas. “Hiro, where are Sabrina and Chris?”

“They must be out walking, Dr. Hoffman. They aren’t in their room.”

“Good. It’s best that they aren’t here right now,” Julia said.

“Why the urgency, Julia?” Maggie asked. “I’ve stopped the bleeding.”

“Remember, Maggie,” Julia explained as she fumbled in her medical bag, “That not only does a vampire draw blood from its victim, but also deposits some unholy blood cells. Barnabas’ blood is completely like that, but I keep the tendencies dormant through regular injections. Those injections are specifically suited to Barnabas’ exact blood character. With the introduction of blood cells from another vampire, I can’t be certain the serum will continue to be effective. Unchecked, Angelique’s blood could cause Barnabas to revert at any time, and much more quickly than a normal vampire’s victim.”

Maggie understood. “How can I help?”

“Draw me a blood sample and then Joe and Quentin can carry him up to his room. I’ll be down in my lab. Bring me the sample as soon as you have it.”

Maggie nodded.

To Joe and Quentin, Julia said, “Barnabas must not be left alone for even a moment. One of you two, or Hiro or Chris, must be with him at all times. Do you understand?”

Quentin agreed, but Joe said, “I think I should go and try to destroy Angelique.”

“Listen to me,” Julia said to Joe firmly. “Forget about that for now. This is more important. I’ll deal with Angelique when the time comes. If we don’t keep a very close eye on Barnabas over the next twenty-four hours, we’ll have two vampires on our hands. Do you understand?”

Joe assented, but without conviction.

“You take the first shift, Joe,” Julia said. “I need Quentin to fill me in on what happened.”

Maggie began to draw blood from Barnabas’ arm while Julia headed for the basement.

The Old House Basement

After helping to carry Barnabas upstairs, Quentin joined Julia and Maggie in the laboratory.

“I wasn’t sure I could really trust Joe to stay with Barnabas,” Quentin said, looking apologetically at Maggie, “So I waited until Chris came back from his walk with Sabrina.”

“How much does Chris know?” Julia asked while she continued to work.

“Only that it is important that Barnabas be watched closely and not left alone, even for a moment.”

“So Angelique is still with us?” Julia asked.

“Yes, and as a vampire. She claims that Raymond Murdoch did it.”

“How long have you known?” Julia demanded.

“Not long, and I’ve been her prisoner in the basement of the Collins Beach House for most of that time.”

“So, that’s where you’ve been,” Julia said.

“Yes. I think I have figured something else out. Do you want to hear it?”

Quentin continued, “I have a hunch that Angelique is somehow an ancestor of Damien.”

“Your hunch is right, Quentin, as Barnabas and I discovered in Louisiana,” Julia affirmed.

“Really?”

“Yes,” she admitted, “But tell me what you know first.”

“All right, Julia,” Quentin agreed. “Damien displays a set of gifts and supernatural powers uncommon even for the son of a phoenix. I wondered about this. I also know that Stephen and Katy Collins were safe from the werewolf curse Angelique renewed on them as long as she herself wore the scarab ring I am now wearing. That meant that she was their ancestor. We assumed she was somehow involved with the Jennings line, but what if she were the ancestor of Alex Collins instead of a co-ancestor of the Jennings family with me?”

“Then Damien would have somehow inherited some talents from Angelique as well as from Laura,” Maggie interjected.

Julia replied, “Yes. Barnabas and I found out that Angelique is likely the ancestor of the entire Rose Cottage family.”

“But how?” Quentin asked. “By whom?”

Julia swallowed and turned from her work to face Quentin. “By Barnabas.”

“Then that is why Damien kept referring to Barnabas as ‘Grandfather’ and Angelique as ‘Grandmother.’ How much does Barnabas know?”

“As you know,” Julia said, returning to her work, “Barnabas and Angelique had an affair in Martinique before Barnabas fell in love with Josette. What he didn’t know was that when he sailed for home, he left behind a pregnant mistress.”

“Angelique,” Quentin deduced.

“Somehow, it seems, the child born to Angelique became part of the DuPres family in Louisiana, relatives of the family in Martinique. One of their descendants married a Collins of Rose Cottage and now all living descendants of the Rose Cottage Collinses are probably descendants of Barnabas and Angelique.”

“Seems more than probable at this point, given the evidence here,” Quentin said.

“Yes, I agree,” Julia replied.

Rose Cottage

“I promise not to wake him up, Eleanor,” Laura Collins assured her former sister-in-law. “I just want to assure my mother’s heart that my boy is all right. Surely you can understand that?”

With outward confidence, Eleanor said, “Yes, I do understand that. I’m just concerned about what the doctor said. He told us to keep Damien isolated until he woke up and could talk to the doctor. He didn’t want anyone questioning the boy and confusing him.”

Exasperated, but still contrite, Laura said, “As I said, I won’t wake him up. I just want to look at him a moment. I know it sounds silly to you, but if it were one of your children, you’d want to see him, wouldn’t you?”

Carolyn, who sat in a nearby chair, listened drowsily as the two other women negotiated. She herself was torn about what to do and could imagine Eleanor’s difficulty. Eleanor reminded Carolyn so much of her own mother, Elizabeth Stoddard, calm and majestic, even when presented with difficult decisions to make. Thinking of her mother, Carolyn recalled when Laura Collins troubled the Collins family before and the extended illness her mother suffered when she opposed Laura.

“I think it will be all right to let Laura see Damien, Eleanor,” Carolyn said, almost in a panicked voice.

The two women looked at Carolyn.

“I think Laura understands the importance of not waking him after such an ordeal. On the other hand, even though I’m not a mother, I know that if I were, I’d want to see my son after he’d been missing like that.”

Eleanor almost said something back to Carolyn that might have revealed to Laura that she knew about her, but instead relented in her objection.

“Very well,” Eleanor said. “I understand how you feel, but just for a moment, please.”

“Thanks, Eleanor,” Laura said. “You were always a decent human being.”

The three women ascended the stairs together and made their way to Damien’s room. As they approached, Laura whispered, “You’re not going inside with me, are you?”

Eleanor had considered it, but decided against it.

“We’ll wait here,” Carolyn said.

Eleanor was about to object when Laura outpaced them and arrived at the little boy’s door.

Eleanor and Carolyn waited down the hall, but within sight of the door.

After Laura entered the room, Eleanor said to Carolyn, “Why did you do that?”

“I suddenly remembered how immediately ill mother became right after crossing Laura thirty years ago. I doubt she’ll do anything to Damien right now. She’s just curious and wants to satisfy herself that we haven’t taken any steps to stop her or haven’t discovered her secret.”

“You’re right, of course. I’m just so exhausted,” Eleanor admitted.

“Me too,” Carolyn said. “When she comes out, we should probably get some sleep.”

“Do you want someone to drive you home?” Eleanor asked.

“If you’ve got a spare room, I think I’ll sleep here. I don’t want to leave you,” Carolyn offered.

“Thanks, Carolyn,” Eleanor said. “I appreciate it.”

“Looks like we’re going to be on the graveyard shift for a few days,” Carolyn said, morosely.

 The Old House

Chris Jennings sat quietly in a chair in Barnabas’ bedroom, reading a book to keep himself from getting bored. Barnabas lay in a heap on the bed, under a white sheet and blanket. His back was turned to Chris, but Chris noted how fitfully he slept.

Soon, Dr. Julia Hoffman entered, followed by Dr. Maggie Haskell carrying a tray with some serum and a hypodermic needle.

“Has he moved?” Julia asked.

“Only to flop around now and then,” Chris answered. “He must be very sick.”

“I’m afraid he is, Chris,” Julia said somberly.

“Where is Joe?” Maggie asked.

“He said something about someone named Angelique and then left,” Chris informed.

Maggie gasped.

Julia said to Chris, “Why don’t you take a break for a while? Dr. Haskell and I will tend to him. Quentin is downstairs in the drawing room. Tell him what Joe said for me. Come back in about an hour.”

Chris nodded and left the room.

Maggie said, “Shouldn’t I go out and look for Joe?”

“Quentin will handle that, Maggie. I need you here.”

Maggie reluctantly agreed.

Julia set down her medical bag next to the bed on the nightstand and said, “Help me get him over on his back so I can examine him. Let’s try not to wake him.”

Maggie went over to the side of the bed where Barnabas faced and reached down to take his shoulder in her hand. As she touched him and looked down, her hand went up to her mouth and she exclaimed, “Julia! Come look!”

Julia rushed around to the other side of the bed and looked down at Barnabas. “No!” she exlaimed.

There on the bed lay Barnabas, his eyes closed, but his hair had turned from white back to dark brown. The wrinkles in his face had smoothed out and he looked the same as when she had first met him thirty years before.

Finally composing herself, she said, “We’ve got to work quickly. Inject him with the serum now.”

Maggie obeyed while Julia opened wide the closed drapes, letting the sun stream in.

Barnabas moaned and tried to pull blankets over his eyes.

“Why did you do that?” Maggie asked.

“The sunlight will stimulate the serum to work faster,” Julia explained. “In another hour, we’ll give him another dose.”

“What now?”

“I’ll stay with Barnabas. I want you to go find Chris and tell him to get Sabrina and go down to Rose Cottage to stay the night. I don’t want her in the house after dark. Do you still have the crucifix you used earlier on the beach?”

“Yes,” Maggie said frightened. “I’ve kept it with me ever since…”

“I know,” Julia sensed what Maggie was going to say. “After you talk to Chris, go to my room and bring me my crucifix. It’s in my top right-hand dresser drawer.”

“You’re talking like Barnabas is going to revert to being a vampire and attack us,” Maggie said.

“I think it is likely,” Julia speculated.

“But he knows we’re his friends,” Maggie objected.

“When he first wakes up, the bloodlust will be strong. He won’t be able to control himself. We must be prepared. Understand?”

Maggie nodded and left on her errand.

Collinsport Station

It was late afternoon. Hiro Ryokuma stood waiting for the train from Boston to arrive. He had been sent there by Quentin Collins with the Rolls Royce to pick up a Mrs. Rice, who was due to arrive soon.

While he waited, his cell phone rang. He answered it.

It was Quentin Collins.

“Has my guest arrived?” Quentin asked.

“No,” the Japanese man answered.

“I just got a call from Dr. Hoffman. Barnabas’ condition has worsened. Waste no time getting back to the Old House after the train arrives, but don’t take Mrs. Rice back there with you. I’ve arranged with Eleanor Collins to put her up at Rose Cottage.”

“Understood, Quentin,” Hiro replied.

“And Hiro…”

“Yes?”

“We need to keep everyone away from the Old House after dark. Know what I mean?”

“I do indeed.”

The Beach House

One more time, Quentin found himself at the Collins beach house through a back window, only this time he was going to go through the front door. He now realized that if Chad Jenkins were on guard, he’d be too weak to oppose the youthfully-bodied Quentin.

He was not surprised to find that Chad was nowhere to be seen, probably up in some room passed out. Angelique had kept him sufficiently weak to satisfy her urges without bringing him to death’s door.

Quentin was not there to find Angelique as much as to find Joe and stop him from what he seemed determined to do. He knew right where to go and hoped that Joe would have to search the sizable main floor and basement before climbing the stairs.

He quickly bounded up the stairs to the room where he had previously discovered Angelique’s coffin. He was too late. Joe was already there, hanging his head and sobbing.

Quentin grabbed Joe’s shoulders and pushed him aside. Looking down into the coffin, he was astonished to see it empty.

“Where is she?” he asked a dazed Joe.

“I don’t know. She’s not here,” Joe bawled.

The Old House

Hiro had returned from the errand Quentin had sent him on. Chris and Sabrina were down at Rose Cottage.

Quentin returned eventually with Joe, who would not hear of being taken home. He was going to be with Maggie, especially as dusk approached.

“You need to get some sleep, Joe,” Maggie insisted as they spoke together in the drawing room.

“I can’t sleep knowing that she is going to rise somewhere and terrorize this town, maybe even attack me or even you,” Joe demanded.

“You’ve been up more than twenty-four hours now, Joe,” Maggie said. “We’re safer here than anywhere else, with people who know how to deal with a vampire. She won’t try to come here.”

“You don’t know her like I do, Maggie,” Joe contended. “She’ll do anything to get at Barnabas and she’ll deal cruelly with anyone who tries to stop her. I think we’re the least safe here.”

“OK, Joe,” Maggie yielded. “Maybe you’re right, but I can’t leave. I have to stay and help Julia with Barnabas. If you won’t leave me, at least you can get some sleep.”

“I couldn’t sleep, exhausted as I am.”

“You could if I gave you a sedative,” Maggie offered.

“Forget about it, Maggie,” Joe resolved. “I’m staying here and I’m staying awake.”

“Have it your way, Joe,” she capitulated. “I’ve got to get back up to Barnabas’ room. What are you going to do?”

“Maybe I’ll patrol the grounds with Hiro,” he said.

“Not when you’re dead on your feet like this, Joe! If you nodded off out there somewhere, she’d have you for sure.”

“Then I’ll stay down here and read,” he maintained.

“Promise me you won’t go out of the house,” Maggie insisted.

“I promise, Maggie.”

Mostly assured he intended to keep his word, Maggie went upstairs and rejoined Dr. Hoffman. The room had been altered since she had been there earlier in the day. Now, it was looking more like a hospital room, with an IV drip and some monitoring device Julia had installed.

The older doctor was keeping Barnabas heavily sedated. Maggie looked at him and was startled to note he was looking old again.

“Julia!” she exclaimed. “Is this what you expected?”

Dr. Hoffman answered, “Yes, pretty much. To be honest, I’m travelling unfamiliar territory here. The unholy blood cells of Angelique are somewhat different than the ones I fought so effectively in Barnabas. They are not responding similarly to the serum. However, I seem to have halted his reversion to being a vampire and restored him almost back to where he was before she attacked him.”

“Almost?”

“Well, the temporal effects of the unholy blood cells in his bloodstream are under control, but the psychic properties of the cells are something I can’t deal with entirely through the treatment. While the sun is out, I think we’ve got him under control, but when the sun sets and Angelique arises somewhere, I can’t guarantee he won’t respond. With you, the treatment affected the psychic ‘memories’ you shared with Barnabas.”

“That’s frightening, Julia. How will we restrain him?”

“Shouldn’t be too difficult. He’s so frail in this condition. Our real worry will be if she tries to get to him. No matter how well-prepared we are, outsmarting a thirsty vampire is going up against insurmountable odds.”

Barnabas’ Dreams

Barnabas’ sleep was fitful, full of images he could not decipher. When he was first bitten by the bat in 1795, he had nightmares. They were more terrifying back then because they were filled with black dread, shrieks of dead and undead, weeping and wailing and gnashing of teeth. These new nightmares were of confused images that seemed like memories, but they were not his own memories.

He was seeing Martinique and the DuPres family plantation as it was when he visited in his youth, but he was not seeing it through his own eyes. He was seeing it as someone looking at himself in a mirror. He remembered himself and how his reflection appeared, but now he was seeing himself more clearly. He was young, flourishing into manhood. His youthful face appeared directly in front of him and moved forward to kiss him, but it was only a dream. He felt his own lips press up against him, but he was not himself.

He was seeing through Angelique’s eyes and suddenly knew. He was having a dream that was one of Angelique’ s memories. Not only was he remembering what she saw, but how she felt, how desperately she loved the young Barnabas he was seeing.

He was remembering how they tore at each other’s clothes. What an odd sensation it was to look at himself as a young swain and be so thoroughly infatuated, to be excited by the shape of his own body and want to draw it to himself.

He remembered the lovemaking, but now from Angelique’s perspective. To him, as a young boy of fifteen, her shapeliness and melodic voice had bewitched him, even though he knew his family would never approve of her as a wife. Still he had wanted her enough to promise her anything. Only now, filled with the memories from her perspective of that night did he realize how earnestly she believed his expressions of undying love.

As their lovemaking climaxed, he knew as surely as she had known at the time, that their physical union would bear fruit.

Now, his dreams were interrupted as he was propelled forward in her consciousness to a time when she was handing a sweetly dressed infant girl to the Countess Natalie DuPres, felt the pang of regret and sadness at giving up the tiny beauty, having held her for the last time. Barnabas, in his dream, looked down at that sweet little face and also felt the despair of the young unwed mother.

Now, again his mind was moved forward as he heard through Angelique’s memory, the betraying news that Barnabas Collins was to take Josette DuPres as a wife. He felt the resolve of Angelique to do anything to go to America with her mistress to win back her lover, certain that if they could only be together again, she could awaken in him the passion he had so richly displayed before.

He experienced through her the rage and anger upon being rebuffed at the Old House and felt the rage turn into malevolent determination. He watched and felt the rage through her, that was unassuaged despite the grief it caused.

Finally, he dropped to the floor and felt his blood-soaked breast and cried out, “I set a curse on you, Barnabas Collins…whoever loves you…will die!”

With that, the nightmare ended and he sat up in bed and cried out, “Angelique!”