Chapter 10

"I should have invested in it." George admitted "he offered to me several times, and I turned him down because I knew better. Will you kindly kick me?"

"I will not." Barnabas said.

"They even found a Faberge egg. Did you ever see one of them?"

'No."

"I saw one once, in Boston, on a class trip. I was a kid and I wanted to play with it. Of course, I could not. It was under glass. I kept thinking of it. I remembered it after I had forgotten the other stuff there. It was so much like a toy. Come Easter, I found a cheap substitute. But I always had a hankering for the real thing. I thought that when I would grow up I would get one. Then I found out how much they cost, and how few of them are there... but I still dream of it. And to think that I passed up a chance like that... You should kick me, Barnabas. I deserve it."

Peter rubbed the pane. He knew that the ballroom would appear now. He knew the times when it would and when it would not.

And indeed, it did. The ladies and gentlemen, with uniforms and silk gowns, dancing. But this time the ballroom was different. there was more light coming from the outside, and the silvery spider webs, always present, delicate like lace, were gone. The window at the back had opened wide and daylight poured in.

Hallie felt hungry. Not for food, for sex. Her sex life with David was satisfactory, or would be, if he had been an ordinary human. but was one admitted to the company of the gods, and her appetites were so much stronger for it.

She knew why it was so. She had offered sacrifices to Ra, but they had been only women, caught with simple deceit. In none of the had the flame of sexual desire been lit before walking into Ra's arms. No man had offered himself to her, as Dirk Wilkins and others had offered himself to Laura. No woman desired her body, either. Zoya, who had been closest to her, had never laid in her arms. All her desires, her needs, had gone to David. And it should be that way, because Elliot had to be David's son, Laura's blood intermingling with hers.

But now David was not enough. Would never be enough for Ra's demands.

"Quite a nice toy, that egg." Patterson said, condescendingly.

"Toy!" Derek was offended "It is worth more than the other stuff put together. It is a Faberge egg. Don't you know anything about them? They were made specially for the tsar, and there are only a few in existence. They are priceless, not just for the gold and stones they contain, but because of their craftsmanship, their scarcity, their... romance..'

Patterson snorted. "Who told you that? George Brant? He must have. And when did he tell you? While you two were lying in bed?"

Derek got up, furious. "Look, I know that you didn't like being thrown in jail and all that. But be careful about what you say about Brant to me."

"My, you have thin skin. You must have hated it when he threw you over for Barnabas Collins."

"Brant and I were never lovers." Derek managed to say calmly.

Patterson snickered.

Derek hit him. It surprised him as much as it did Patterson. All his life he had avoided violence, mainly because he was aware that he was as likely, if not more, to end up at the receiving end rather than the giving. but this filthy minded old man knew how to get to him.

The old man retaliated hard. He was no stranger to violence. He had had to subdue a few unruly prisoners and rioters, and he used his experience on Derek.

They kept hitting at each other for a while. Then they ran out of breath and the fight ended. They stepped back for air and eyed each other warily.

"You have a filthy mind, Patterson." Derek said. "you better watch out."

Phillip left the sea again. He remembered the dog's teeth. he remembered the drying of his gills, which he had to relieve with the water he carried in his pouch. He remembered the strangeness around him, the way his body had felt heavy. And yet something pulled him back. He had to go there.

He had to find Vicky.

He kept climbing the road. There were no dogs this time. The cattle noted his passage, but, as before, they were content to know that he would not come closer.

He knew the way, how to get back home, to Vicky... For one moment he hesitated, pondering this new word that had come into his mind: "home" And then other words "Old House.' "Barnabas Collins". And then it was Vicky, Vicky, Vicky...

And this was something that he could understand and follow...

The dark was heavy around him and no one saw him. There were cats around, but they had the good sense to run away, as well as the small wildlife, without giving the alarm.

He reached the house where he had lived, where he knew that Vicky was.

He knew that he should be inside it. But there was no opening. It was just a solid rock, like the ones he swam around, down in the water...

But this rock had a caver. There was an opening into a cave...

Some parts of the rock did not feel like the others. They felt... easier to come through... a bit softer.. a bit... he pounded on them...

"Eric. Did you hear that?" Maria asked

Eric just grunted.

It was the pipes, of course. Pipes make a lot of noise. Old houses make lots of noise. To be expected. You have to learn to ignore those noises if you wanted to get some sleep.

"I could swear that there is somebody outside." Maria insisted, but then shrugged and laid back again.

They went back to sleep.

Then the pounding resumed.

She sat up on the bed. "That was not the pipes!"

It could be any of the sounds of the sea... Or... or something... Eric just wanted to go back to sleep...

"Eric, listen. There is something out there."

Eric opened reluctant eyes. "It is the pipes, I tell you."

"It is not!"

"You never lived in an old house."

The pounding grew stronger.

"It is not the pipes! Not this! There is somebody trying to get in!"

Phillip kept pounding at the door. He knew that this was how he would find the opening to the cave. The way he would get in and find Vicky...

"It is here!" Eric realized it at last. "It is trying to get in."

He had gotten a glimpse of it form the upstairs window. Looked like a man... but not quite... Something wrong with the shape of the head... or the arms, or...

It was not human, he managed to think.

He raced for his gun. He would need it. Maria had given him an argument about it before, but now she was glad he had it.

"You call the police" he told her.

Just then the door gave way and Phillip entered his house.

Eric saw it move among the furniture. What was it? He could not aim well where he was...

Phillip moved closer to the staircase as Eric came down. Phillip was looking for Vicky. Eric for a good shot.

Eric stumbled and fell. Phillip turned towards him. Eric lifted his gun. He saw the monstrous face loom over him. He pulled the trigger as Phillip's claw swept over his shoulder...

Phillip stepped back, howling in pain, blood pouring from his arm.

Eric grabbed his own arm, where Phillip's claws had torn him...