Chapter 10

Carolyn tore the sheet of paper with irritation. Why did she find it difficult to write to her mother? She had meant to tell her that things were all right now and that she should come home. Instead, hateful words formed themselves on the paper.

There had to be away of doing it. A way to write a letter that would allow their broken relationship to mend.

Why couldn't she write how much she missed her, how much she realized now that she loved her? Why did the old hurt insist on coming through?

The arrival of Barnabas was a welcome relief to her worry.

"I am still uneasy about coming here "Barnabas confessed "I feel that there is something in these rooms that doesn't want me."

"Like me?" there was a slight edge in Carolyn's voice.

"No. Just memories. I saw this place being built. I put many of my hopes in it. And the came to nothing."

"Many of my own dreams came to nothing, too."

"I know they did. If it is any consolation, Dr, Anderson hated doing what he did."

"Yes, they hated it. But they did it anyway." Carolyn still felt bitter about her forced sterilization.

"Roxanne did not give us many choices. It was that or kill you."

"I can understand why you chose this. I can even understand why Roxanne would do it. Probably I would have done the same in her position. But still I can't forgive her. Maybe I am a nasty person."

"It is not an easy thing to forgive. You are right in feeling hurt."

"Once I would have taken it on Quentin or Nicholas. But now... now know it doesn't help."

"Where's Quentin, by the way?"

"Tomcatting somewhere. I do not care how he spends his time. I might even grant him a divorce. I don't think that he'd want custody of Edmund. If he tried, he might get it, and what would he do, then? And it is no fun getting on his nerves anymore."

"It never is."

"No it isn't But for a while it seems that it is. Specially if you are hurting real bad.."

"Yes. I know." Barnabas sighed, remembering too much. "you are hurting and it seems so unfair that you are the only one who does. You want someone else to hurt, too. Misery loves company, as they say."

"I feel sorry for Quentin, now."

"So do I. Can you believe that once I envied him?"

"Yes." Carolyn poured herself a glass of brandy "and you know what? He envies you. You are all he wants to be and can't"

"Yes." Barnabas nodded. "I got self-respect, a sense of purpose, good friends. Yes. I have been blessed, even if it took me a time to realize it. :Poor Quentin."

"Yes. Poor Quentin."

"How's Edmund doing?"

"Studying" Carolyn's face softened. "But now Miss Oates is going easy on him, and I check on it, instead of trusting her implicitly as I used to do." She smiled, a bit embarrassed. "I realize now what a rotten thing I did to you, taking him for myself. Still, he is the best thing that happened to me."

"You have been good for him. I could have never given him a good home."

Carolyn nodded. Still it surprised him not to see her gleefully pounce on his words in search of anything that would hurt him. He had gotten so used to her sarcasm that he had forgotten about the way she used to be in the past, when the fire was there, but tempered with concern and affection.

The way she used to be. The way she could be again.

He'd rather not pursue that line of thought., for it led him back to the way he used to be, when he had bitten Carolyn and forced her to help in his attempts to murder Julia.

She had less to live down than he had.

They talked a bit more, Barnabas finally coming to the point.

"Carolyn, you did not ask me in here just to talk. There is something that you want to ask of me."

She nodded. "Yes. You told me once that I could make it so that people forgot the... the way I used to be."

"It told you before, that if I can do it, you certainly can."

"I have started to believe it myself."

"That's the spirit." he said encouragingly.

"Yep. Win one for the Gipper."

"The Gipper?" Barnabas made a face "I don't want to be reminded that he's our President now."

"And I'd rather not start an argument over it."

"No. There would be no point to it. What is really bothering you?'

"I have tried to write to Mother, but.."

"But it is not as easy as you thought it would be."

"She writes to you, doesn't she?"

"Yes. She does."

"What does she tell you? Is she happy?"

"She sounds that way."

Carolyn shrugged. "So, at least she is happy. I should not begrudge her that. She had such rotten luck with father."

"Yes. It was rotten. But still, your father loved you. He died trying to protect you."

"Almost too late he remembered me."

"Are you angry with him, too?"

"In a way I am. Also with my mother and with Adam. And you and everybody else. But most of it is gone now."

"Good."

"So how come I can't write to her still?"

"Maybe you are trying too hard."

Worry gnawed at George in the morning. Where was Derek... He did not want to believe that Derek was dead... But a vampire caught outside of his coffin by dawn was dead meat. Or worse, if you went by what Roxanne Drew had told them.

But he could be alive... somehow. Alive and in distress. He did not know where the belief came from...

Barnabas had been missing too, and given up for dead. Had the same thing happened to Derek? Was he chained inside a coffin somewhere?

He remembered that Trask had taken care of erasing the marks on the throats of the women Barnabas fed on, to make everyone believe he was dead...

Curt Kingsley! He was still sick, wasn't he?

Kingsley could lead them to Derek...

He had to see Kingsley. ..

Kingsley was sweating profusely when George entered the room. He was sick, all right. And he could see the marks on the man's throat.

Derek was alive. In distress, but alive. And Kingsley would lead them to him.

"What do you want, sheriff?' Kingsley said dispiritedly. He had fought one more night, and won... but for how much longer?

"He has been calling you, hasn't he?' George decided that bluntness was best.

Kingsley stared at him. What did he mean...did he know?"

"I have some idea of what you are going through. There is a solution to it."

Kingsley shook. "He's been calling me, two nights in a row. I can feel the pull them. I can barely resist him."

"But you managed, up to now. You have not gone to him." George managed no to sound sarcastic. If the man believed he was in danger this was not the time to disabuse him.

He had to admit that it was an amusing spectacle, and FBI man weeping openly and acting scared.

"I can help you. Do you have any idea of where he might be?"

"I have these flashes of a cave."

"A cave. Well, that would explain how Derek had survived the sunlight."

"Can you find the way there?"

"No...no.."

":You have to. How else can I help you?"

"He's... he's there."

"I know what to do with him. Just show me the way." he put his hand on Kingsley's shoulder " everything is going to be all right. But we have to find him first. There are hundreds of caves. The only one we can find the right one is if you lead us to it. But we will protect you. You will be safe. We will take care of him..."

Kingsley sat down shivering. He had to be brave once more... lead them to the...creature that had such power over him."

"You show me where he is and I will do the rest."

"You will?"

"Of course, I will." George exuded confidence.

"I could not tell anyone about it."

"Yes, I understand how it is." George smiled lopsidedly "I've got some experience on the subject."

"You do?"

"Yes." he could not resist adding the rest. "Just because I am a backwoods sheriff does not mean that I am an idiot."

"I never thought you were."

Silently George promised himself to give Derek a raise for the excellent job he had done on Kingsley. After he found him, of course."

"I will need a few things to take care of the problem. And we need to wait until dark, because that's when he calls you, right?"

"Yes. During the day, it is kind of muted."

"Good. You may want the hospitality of my office. I'd rather know at all times where you are. I don't want you bolting or going off on your own."

Once Kingsley was made as comfortable as possible in a cell - because the possibility of bolting was quite likely - he went back to Derek's' room, this time without an argument with the landlady, and secured a supply of dried blood. Derek might be quite hungry and while he did not as a rule attack people, he was not famished as a rule, either.

He wondered how he'd explain it to Kingsley afterwards. Would he get the idea that Derek had attacked him on orders from the sheriff? He might. And there would be no end of trouble that he could make...

Well, that was another problem, which they had to solve. Now they had to find Derek.

Derek might be hurt, and there might be either a wooden stake or a silver bullet to get out of him. And for this he needed a doctor. He had to find one willing to operate.