Chapter 7

"Phillip?" she asked in the abandoned house. "Phillip?"

The place was dark. It did not bother her, But how could Phillip be here without any light? And it had no running water, either. True, the Old House did not have much in the way of modern conveniences, but a way had been found around that. Here...

Yet Phillip had told her that he was here...

"Phillip!" she called again "Phillip!"

"Here" a voice answered. :"I am here, Megan."

There was someone in the room with her. Phillip? It sounded like him. But it did not feel like him.

There was a small light, as if somebody had struck a match. But there had been no sound of a striking match, or the odor that came when the head ignited. And the hand that held it was not a man's hand.

She jumped away. "Who are you? What do you want?""

Yolanda lifted her hand and pointed it to Megan. "You fool." she laughed. "You fell for it."

"Yolanda Over..." Suddenly she could not speak anymore. She was paralyzed as a glow enveloped her.

"You interfered once with my plans. "Yolanda said. "So now I am removing you from circulation."

Megan felt herself lifted by some unseen force and laid down horizontally, hanging in the air.

She felt Yolanda's hands on her temples. She would have shivered and gagged, except that she was incapable of such movement. I was painful, and it felt like her mind was being drained of knowledge.

Yolanda laughed again. "Well, what do you think of me? Do I look like you? Of course, you can't tell me and then you cannot see the resemblance, since you can't use a mirror."

She now looked exactly like Megan. She laughed, shaking her hair. Her voice, her movements were Megan's too. And she knew all that Megan knew.


Barnabas was going to talk to Maggie. There was no help about it. Sort of kidnapping him, or her, the two would meet.

What disaster was brewing there? George did not doubt for any moment that a disaster would come. Why couldn't those two do the sensible thing and avoid each other?

He thought of calling Sabrina, who he suspected feared the same thing and organize a double kidnapping. Not to be released until they both swore over a stack of Bibles to treat each other as if they were plague carriers.

"Let's see what happens now. " he thought resignedly.


Yolanda studied herself on the mirror. She could not find any flaw in her appearance. To all intents and purposes she was Megan Graham. She opened her mouth. She had fangs, if only for show. She would not use them... or no, maybe she would use them at first to allow the stones to feed. She touched them with he tongue. They felt like the real thing.

She had to try the disappearing bit. People expected it of Megan, and with the stones she could manage it.

She concentrated hard. Her face in the mirror lost definition, but did not vanish. She gave it up. She would need more practice later.

That would not be hardest part of her disguise. It would rather be Angelique.

She had learned from Megan's mind what she and Angelique did in bed, what she might be expected to do.

She would not indulge in such perversions! My God, it was disgusting! And that... that dyke had cheated her of her inheritance, and probably helped murder Uncle Schuyller.

Yet, she would need to deceive Angelique until she was ready to strike.

At least for the moment Angelique was away. She would not have to worry about it for a while.

Now she had to deal with Barnabas. And that mean the kid, Urien.

It would be very satisfying to have Barnabas' adopted son for a slave.

Urien was not difficult to entice. he was young, with a strong sex drive, and more than willing to experiment with heterosexuality. And she knew that there was no fear of complications from Megan.

She led him into Megan's cottage, and offered him a drink while she undressed slowly. He looked at her as she undressed. Wow!, he thought. She was real hot.

His heart thumped. Barnabas could not object to this, he thought. He had been warned about exploiting others, but could anyone exploit Megan Graham?

She was stunning. So much, that she barely remembered to take off his own clothes.

Her lips were at his throat and this excited him. The points of her fangs sent shivers up and down his spine. This was good! This was the best he ever had!

There was a slight piercing pain, then the flood of blood, the then a burning...

The burning... it grew from a small spot to his jaw and shoulder. It climbed up to his temples and sunk to his heart. And he could not move.

"Urien Collins." he heard her voice from far away "Do you hear me?"

"Yes. I hear you."

"You will do as I say. Without hesitation nor questioning."

"I will... I will do as you say."


Maybe sometime during the trip Maggie would change her mind. Maybe she would have the sense to bring in a cross. Maybe...

Maybe pigs would fly.

Sabrina knew that she all trip to convince Maggie not to meet Barnabas.

She also knew that it would be waste of time.

Grimly, she prepared herself to fix the mess that those two created.


Urien could not understand it. How come Megan could move during the day? She should be as unconscious as Barnabas was.

But it was not to him to question, Urien acknowledged. He was to do as he was told, even if it made no sense.

Then he saw her. She did not look like Megan at all. She had somehow change her appearance for this. But it was her, all right.

"Let me in." she said to him.

He did. He did not understand any of it, and suddenly he was afraid.

"What are you going to do to him?"

"The same think I'll do to you if you say another word."

"You... You are not Megan Graham."

She only shrugged. "Take me to him."

He did. He could do nothing else.

She studied Barnabas, licking her lips.

"Well, Mr. Collins, it is time that we settled old accounts."

She took her penknife and made a small cut under his ear, the pushed the stone into it, as she had done with the cats.

Then wound closed itself over the stone.

This will make you hungry. Very hungry. But you know what to do about it, don't you?"

Urien still stared, afraid.

"Go out." she ordered him. "And forget what happened here."


The house had not changed, Maggie thought. Maybe it was her.

The memories had worn off, and had no power to hurt her.

She could even look at it with a certain fondness.

Maybe Sabrina was right. She unwilling to let go of the past, and risked falling into obsessive behavior.

But it disconcerted that Barnabas had stopped apologizing for it. She thought he would be doing so forever, and now he said that he had a right to get on with his life.

Had she granted it? No, he had just seized it...

Well, it had been her fault for the way she had exploited it, and made him to agree to things that he felt strongly against. "Tanto va el cantaro a la fuente, que al fin se rompe." as the Spanish say "The jug goes to the fountain so much, that at the end it breaks"

And yet she wished she could go over it again. Why? It would not make better sense now than it did the first five hundred times she tried to come to grips with it...

She studied the fireplace. Josette's portrait was no longer there. He had moved it away after one emotional scene with Vicky (she was not sure what actually had happened, she had heard two or three different versions of it already) Whatever it was, Barnabas had decided that it was time to banish that reminder of the past to a less prominent place. It was still in the house, but it was just one more painting.

"Are you sure that you want to wait for him here?" Urien asked her.

"Yes. He said that he had business to talk about and I want to do it as quickly as possible."

"He's hungry when he wakes up."

"I am willing to feed him in exchange for his time. It would not be the first time it happened."

"If you don't mind it..."

"I don't mind it."

He reminded her of Willie, in a way. Was that why Barnabas had adopted him? There was something in Barnabas that made him unwilling to go of the past...

She looked at her watch. it was a bit too early, wasn't it? Oh, well, she could raid his library and liquor cabinet.

A glass of brandy in her hand she inspected the title on the shelves. She thought that she must look like Roger did in his day. Straight, pompous, liquor in his hand, surveying the place with a proprietary air.

Well, Roger had changed. So had she.

The sun was setting. She was aware of it, and that soon the candles would have to be lit.

She had not seen Barnabas for quite a while. They had parted bitterly. Would he remember that now? or would he instead remember Josette? Or would he do neither, concentrating on the business at hand?