Chapter 4

Not bad, Tom thought. All that restraining himself was paying off. They actually trusted him so completely as to think that he would actually be gentle with that prying Falchi woman.

Sure he'd be gentle with her, he thought, until she started struggling, of course.

But he had to deliver her to Barnabas in perfect condition. Not even a scratch.

Well, let it be. It would be a trial run for Sandy. And that one he would really have fun with.

Tomorrow, he thought. And with that, he began practicing knots on a rope.


Willie stood patiently at the entrance of Collinwood. He had a right to see Vicky, didn't he? Aftere all, they had been friends then.

"Mrs. Collins will see you now." the maid told him.

Well, at least Carolyn received him, which was more than what Barnabas could say.

"Do you want to see me?" Carolyn asked glacially.

"I want to see Vicky"

"She can't see anyone. She's resting."

"Just for a few minutes. Just to know how she's doing"

"No visitors. Certainly no visitors who are friendly with Barnabas."

"Are you crazy? What has Vicky to do with...with this feud you are carrying with Barnabas?"

"Vicky is my friend. She wouldn't want to see you, anyway."

"I'd rather heard it from her myself."

"If you insist" Carolyn shrugged.

Vicky was sitting alone in her room, reading.

"Do you want to see Willie Loomis?" Carolyn asked her.

Vicky turned her face to Willie. For a split second Willie thought he heard a hissing sound, but it passed quickly.

"You" Vicky said coldly "You and Barnabas. Are you finding me for him so that he can come drink my blood tonight?"

"Vicky" Willie pleaded, then turned angrily to Carolyn "What have you been telling her?"

"The truth."


Oriana wondered about Nicholas. Yes, he told interesting stories, but the way he drank there was no guarantee they were true... If she didn't have anything better to go on than a drunken man's ramblings...

But if she got photos, it would not matter how drunk Blair was. Because there was a story there, even if she couldn't figure out what it was.

"Miss Falchi" he heard somebody behind her "Are you Miss Falchi?"

She turned. It was that man, Jennings.

"And supposing that I am, what do you want?"

"I can tell you what you want to know."

"Really?"

"But we have to be careful." He looked around him nervously "I don't want to be seen talking to you."

She smiled "Will you stop acting as if this was a bad spy movie?"

"This is real. Representative Evans doesn't want people looking into her closet. You know what happened to my sister? That was their way of warning me."

Oriana gulped. ?That thing was going to be tougher than she imagined.

"Do you know where Xavier Davenport jogs? Meet me there."


Quentin walked under the eyes of the portraits of the corridor.

All of them were there. Joshua, Isaac, Grandmother Edith. Daniel, Edward, Jamison...Jamison? Had Jamison grown to be such a fat man?

No matter, they were the Collinses who had made it, and they mocked him.

But not all of them had. Pale, weak Millicent Collins hadn't. Jeremiah hadn't, Caleb...

Carl Collins hadn't made it either.

"Was it worth it, Quentin?" the portrait spoke to him "Was it worth all your scheming and plotting to end up married like this?"

Quentin blinked. That was all the reaction Carl Collins got out of him.

"I made it! I am master of Collinwood now!:

"No" Carl laughed unpleasantly "you are a convenience to the mistress of Collinwood. You know that she'll never have children by you. All you have to do is say that whatever child she bears is yours. Quite an enviable position I would say"

Quentin turned his back. "Little twerp" he said bitterly "you always were a twerp"

"That's why you delivered me to Barnabas? Much good it did to you."

He went up the stairs, pursued by Carl's laughter.

And there he heard it.

...Deep breathing.

Curious, he followed the sound, up to Vicky's room.

"What are you trying to do?" Carolyn said from her room.

"I heard something." he explained.

"You were trying to get into Vicky's bedroom, weren't you?" she asked coldly.

"I wasn't"

"Vicky is off limits to you. You can tomcat with anybody you want, but you touch Vicky and it is no allowance for you."

"Carolyn!" he shouted angrily.

"What now?"

"You have no right to treat me like this."

Watch me."

She went back into her own room closing the door behind her.

Quentin though of how much he'd like to break her neck.

Then the thought struck him. If Carolyn died, he would be the master of Collinwood.

He had already killed a wife. Why not kill a second?


Xavier jogged on the snow, looking towards the spot where Chris and Oriana were talking. He knew what was supposed to happen and he would give Chris a hand if needed.

"Is that all you can show? Graveyard votes?" Oriana said with disbelief.

"But this is the real thing. The dead really vote in this town. They really get out of their coffins and go to the polls."

Oriana looked at him doubtfully. First Blair and now this...

"Don't look at me as if I was crazy or something. Just because you don't believe in those things doesn't mean they don't exist. I supposes you don't believe in werewolves, either."

"Of course not."

Tom looked around. Xavier was there, ready to help if it came to that.

"Too bad, because I am one."

Then, snarling, he changed shape.

She was frozen for half a second. Then she ran. he ran after her. Let her run. The chase was enjoyable, even if there was no kill at the end of it. She screamed as she ran. She stumbled and got up quickly. One part of her brain told her that there were no such things as werewolves, the other part told her to shut up and keep running.

Why had she come alone? Why hadn't she smelled the trap?

He hadn't caught with her yet. Maybe she could get to the lodge, to Davenport.

She stumbled and fell face down on the pond. She tried to get up.

Davenport was now moving closer. It was time to end the chase now. He jumped and fell on her back, making her stumble again.

Teeth flashed over her shoulder. A shudder ran through her. Now it would bite her. She opened her mouth to scream...

A wadded handkerchief was stuffed into her mouth.

"Need help?" Davenport asked Tom as he was twisting her arms behind her.

"Sit on her legs."

Davenport did so until Tom finished tying her wrists together.

"You taking her to Barnabas?" Davenport asked, getting up and helping keep her legs together so that Tom could tie them.

"Yes. She can find out all she wants about him. In one easy lesson."

Davenport thought that she should be allowed to dry inside the lodge, but didn't feel like arguing with the man he thought was Chris.

"You look nice that way" Tom said to Oriana.

His hand rested on her throat. So warm. he could feel the beat of her blood under his fingers. For one second he pictured the warm gush of blood that would spurt if he just used his teeth.

"Don't worry" he continued, carrying her to his car "I will not touch you. but Barnabas might. He likes throats like yours."

He put her on the seat next to his :But then, you don't know about Barnabas, eh? Well, you are going to find out."

Oriana strained against the ropes, knowing it was useless, that he had tied her too well for that.

"You could get an exclusive interview with him, too. That would be something, wouldn't it?"

She barely could feel her hands now. They were numb from the tight binding and the cold. Her clothes were wet. She'd catch pneumonia that way...

If she lived long enough to catch it.

He drove her to the Old House, taunting her, stroking her throat, and making sure that her efforts to spit out the gag were useless.

"Now you are really going to find out what's the matter with Barnabas Collins."

Both Phillip and Amy were gone, which made unloading Oriana easier. He preferred to give no explanations.

He let her slump on the floor while he put a lighted candle in a candlestick and opened the door behind the library.

'Now, are you going to tell me that you don't believe in vampires, either?"

He left her hanging from a hook in the wall with a note pinned to her chest. "One snoopy reporter, delivered as promised.".


There was something fishy about Vicky, Nicholas decided. Carolyn was too self-absorbed to notice the change and Quentin had never met Vicky before her disappearance.

He would find out what it was, if he had to turn the whole room upside down for it.

"Found something interesting?" Vicky asked behind him.

...Vicky's voice, yet so changed...

He turned and saw her smile A small tight smile, just a parting of the lips, just enough for a flash of teeth.

And a soft hiss...

"Please..." he begged "don't tell Mrs. Collins or she'll fire me."

She smiled again and he shivered uncontrollably. The hissing grew.

"You are getting too curious for your own god." she said, sarcastically " Just as Jason McGuire did."

"Jason McGuire?"

"He knew too much and wouldn't kept quiet. So he got too close to Barnabas Collins. It was a simple matter to get one idea or two into his head. And Barnabas was so out of control then and so paranoid that we did not need to put any ideas into his head... Remember McGuire the next time you want to get cute."

Nicholas swallowed.

"But if you behave and learn your place, we might have and use for you."

"We?" he stared at her "you are not really Victoria Winters?"

She shook her head "No questions if you want to keep your head."


Oriana hung from the hook, knowing that no matter how hard she struggled, she couldn't free herself before dusk.

She couldn't even try to spit the gag out. Jennings had tied a scarf around her mouth to keep it in place.

At least Jennings was gone and couldn't taunt her any more.

...but when the other woke up...

Light and shadows played on the inert gray face. At times it seemed as if the eyes flicked open, but it always turned up to be a trick of the light.

The candles were half-consumed by now. And Jennings had made sure that they were far enough from her so that she couldn't try to burn the ropes.

She felt her eyes close. She was tired and cold. Her wet clothes hung like lead from her.

Was that how she would die? Of exposure, waiting for those eyes to open? Or...Or he would wake up and.. and..

She felt the rope cutting her chest. Her knees must be giving way. She tried to fight it. To stay awake.

What for? So that he would find her awake at dusk?