Chapter 10

Old House drawing room

"Very well Willie, I accept your apology, now do as I say and go to bed. I do not wish to see you any more tonight." Barnabas straightened his sleeve and did not bother to look at his wrist he knew it was already healed he noted Willie's forehead was healed. He was still very put out with the boy and would deal with him later on his lack of courtesy to the woman that would become Barnabas' bride. Turning to the bay window he stood and peered out, something Willie had seen him do often. Though he stood and looked sour, Willie suspected that he was lost in thought and not really looking out that window. Walking a little less painfully down the stairs he held his dark thoughts about Barnabas to himself. He went to do the monster's bidding and that was find the two bottles of liquor he had been instructed to get.

The whole time he was in that basement he avoided the room that held the coffin and thought only of Vicki and where she might be and what might happen to her and a wave of guilt washed over him. He ambled down the hallway with the two bottles and paused at the door of the cell that had held Maggie when she was here. For a moment he was transported to that time and could still hear her weeping in sorrow the first two days, then she went down hill doing all that crazy talk. Walking quickly past that room he skittered on down the hallway and took the servants door up to the kitchen and paused. There was his dinner now cold and the eggs coagulated with grease. "Shit," He muttered softly he went and opened the back door and threw the eggs and bacon out into the cool night air. "Bastard won't have to kill me, I will end up starving to death before he does kill me." He muttered he shambled down the hallway to the library and set the glasses and the two bottles on the silver platter in the middle of his desk.

Backing out of the library he could hear the soft deep voices of his guests in the drawing room and he slipped back into the kitchen and opened the pantry. "Maybe the Asshole should remember that being human requires you to eat and not just suck someone dry." He muttered again he shifted the cans around and then found a bag of chips. Throwing the bag of chips back up on the shelf he rummaged around and found a can of tuna and some crackers. "Guess it is better than nothin." He mumbled walking to the table and sat down on the kitchen chair and began to open the tuna can and the box of saltines. Mentally he made a note to do some grocery shopping tomorrow after those two doctors got here to set up their lab. He was chewing the crackers when he heard Barnabas' raise his voice and this brought a smile to his lips. "At least someone else is getting the old bastards ill temper." He chewed and thought and then he stood to get him self a glass of water to wash down his meager meal. Finishing his meal, he walked up the servant's stairs and was halted in his progress by the transparent figure of a woman that stood at the top of the stairs. "Josette?" He could not clearly see her but knew she was a woman with long curly reddish hair; she started to weep she turned from him and drifted down the hallway and out of sight.

Old house servant's quarters

Willie rushed up the stairs and tried to follow her but she had disappeared through a door at the end of the hallway. "What the hell?" he muttered rushing down the hallway to the room, and with trembling fingers put them to the door knob and then turned the knob. The figure of the woman stood by the window looking out she continued to weep. Willie stepped into the room and spoke softly, "Um Ma'am?" He stepped towards her and she turned again to face the window and disappeared from view. "What the hell is going on?" Willie shifted around the room and then saw an old fashion and very dated drawstring purse lying on the top of the plain and simply made but beautifully preserved dresser. Stepping over to look at the purse Willie lifted it and found it was as preserved as most the furniture in the room, it held no dust to it or was dry rotted and it felt weighted, Pulling the drawstrings apart he looked inside and saw a letter, a kerchief with the letters PW embroidered on the corner, and some coins. Pulling the letter out he stepped to the hallway and into a better light to look at the writing. It was scripted with curlicues and the letter appeared to have been written by a quill. He read the opening paragraph.

My Dearest Miss Wycke,

I must confess I have been unable to think of anything else but you since our meeting those two weeks ago. I find myself daydreaming and those dreams are filled with your smile, the sparkle of your eyes, which remind me of the oceans depths. Your smile is like a light of truth to my heart and your tender words are like the gentle caress of the summer breeze. . .

Willie could not make out the rest of the letter it had appeared to been subjected to something wet and the writing had run together making it impossible to read. "Who the hell writes like that?" He muttered and then folded the letter up and tucked it back into the purse and took the coins, then he thought better of it and put the coins back, the last thing he needed was another beating by Barnabas because he stole some crummy old coins. No he would tell Carolyn about this letter, girls liked this kind of crap and he was sure she would find it all romantic or something and that would maybe give him another shot at getting her in his bed.

Replacing the purse he folded the letter and tucked it in his jacket pocket and stepped out into the hallway. Once again he could hear the heated argument going on down stairs only this time the raised voice was an unfamiliar one and he seemed to be matching Barnabas with the force of his anger in return. "Ain't your problem Willie, go to bed." He walked down the hallway to his bedroom. Kicking his shoes off by the bed and fell on it with a slight bounce and a groan from the bed. For a moment he smiled, he had made it groan with Carolyn not long ago and that had been a nice memorable night. The girl was a freak when it came to bumping the ugly with one another. With those thoughts on his mind he closed his eyes and recalled how her hair looked in the moonlight and how the moonlight complimented her body. The soft curve of her hips, the small breasts that fit his hand perfectly, and on those thoughts he fell sound asleep.

Old house library

In the library three men had squared off and it appeared that blows could come from where the conversation was going. "Sir, if I were not a gentleman I would call you out for your insult to Miss Winters and this family. As you are family I will let that comment slid for now and ask you to reframe from making such course remarks in the future and to reseat yourself."

Trask had stepped forward and spoke in even calm tones. "Gentlemen let us remember why we are here and that the very topic of this conversation is the reason we must use calm rational heads to decide how to proceed to bring Miss Winters home and in tact." Barnabas glared at Trask and found him to be not much different than his great, great grandfather that was buried in the very foundation of this house.

"Of course you are right Mr. Trask, shall we seat ourselves and try this time to not take this to such a personal level and decide how you wish to proceed in procuring the release of Miss Winters." Barnabas had turned and stepped back behind his desk, sitting in the chair, bridging his fingertips together he studied Quentin and Trask.

"The client Knightwing wants the ankh that Quentin procured in Egypt and had sent to Collinwood fourth class mail by crate." Trask had back down in his chair and crossed his elegantly dressed knee over his other knee and looked at the glowering Quentin. "I understand that Quentin is expecting its delivery within two weeks time, but from what I understood from him, he is expecting to have it duplicated and turn over the false ankh to Knightwing. That is why he took Miss Winters."

Barnabas looked with a directness that would unnerve most men but not Quentin, he glanced casually back at Barnabas and smiled but no humor was in that smile he shrugged his shoulders and said offhandedly, "It was my intention to keep the original and give him the fake, it would make no difference to him all he has the book of death but he needs the words too unite the two to perform the ceremony he hopes to succeed in performing."

Barnabas' frown deepened. "I see so you proposed to dupe the man for what purpose? What will you gain from the use of this object that has Miss Winter's life in peril?"

Quentin laughed and shook his head. "For the money, the object is worth a great deal more than what he proposed to pay for it."

Barnabas studied the top of his desk then stood, "I suggest you tell me how much more you think you shall gain by selling to an higher bidder?"

Quentin laughed, "More money than you have old boy."

Barnabas leveled his gaze directly at Quentin, "How much?"

Without batting a lash he said, "one million dollars." Barnabas sat down pulled out his drawer lifted out a brown embossed cheek book and began to write out a check. Tearing the check off he threw it on the desk. "Is that enough?"

Quentin looked at the check and his eyes widen. "My god man how much money do you have?"

"It does not matter how wealthy I am sir, it matters that the young lady in question is very dear to this family and to me, and I propose you shall turn the object over to me and present me with the artifact that will give me the bargaining power to have Miss Winters safely returned to us."

Quentin picked up the check looked at it then tore it up into small pieces and dropped them on Barnabas' desk. "No sale, the ball stays in my court and I will do the negotiation for her return."

Blue Whale next day

Newland paused in mid sip of his coffee, turned his head and fixed his gaze on the laughing woman that sat across the restaurant from him. Her dark hair accented the blue of those huge luminous eyes she sat with the dapper dressed man with a thin mustache. His dark eyes studied her with an open intensity that would consume most others but only amused his companion. Richards watched Newland while he studied their next target. "I thought she was blond." Richards offered thoughtfully and then he took another sip from his coffee cup.

"She is, she is disguised for one reason or another. I don't want to find out why, I just want to do as Knightwing instructed. Did you tell the techs what was needed?" Newland sipped from his cup sat it down then folded his hands in front of the cup. Both men had removed their dark sunglasses and where Newland's eyes were blue, Richards were brown. Both men still looked almost identical. They appeared to have been stamped from the same mold. They both continued to sit quietly in the corner and watched the two across the room.

"Oh now Nicholas do not be an old Poop. You are spoiling my victory. Peter is just a step away from becoming mine again, and you will have your army of the damned. Now drink up before Roger gets here, I am about to have a proposal made to me. Rumor had it he was at the jewelers today picking out a ring." She affectedly batted her lashes and smiled triumphantly.

Nicholas studied the pattern on the tablecloth he was cautious and for good reason and now voiced that caution. "You know Angelique you were so certain you had paid back the two men that had broken your heart, trifled with your affections, or whatever you want to call it almost two hundred years ago. I cannot help but remember that at that time you were stupid enough to curse one of them and had that curse rebound on you." He glanced up to see the color form over those high delicate cheekbones and that soft frown formed.

"Now there you go Nicholas being a party pooper again. I was angry and did not think through the wording but now after last night's success, how can I loose this time?"

"Did you forget Collins you insipient fool?" Nicholas snapped out he narrowed his gaze and studied her.

The anger in her voice caused it to go an octave higher she indignantly took exception to his calling her stupid. "No, I have not and it seems an old friend has taken care of that problem. I am sure he will be keeping himself very busy trying to rescue that meek church mouse of a girl from Alexandru."

"So you know about that do you?" Nicholas lowered his voice and leaned in closer to Angelique, "Did you forget he still has a grudge against you for what you did to him?"

"That was not personal, it was for profit and I secured a nice tidy sum for that curse. He is not the kind to want to hold a grudge. He should have thought with his brain and not the lower part of his anatomy when he made the Baroness Vercelli mad. Running off and leaving her with his child was not proper sport."

Nicholas sat back and thought about Vanessa and the angry look she bore when she discovered she was pregnant and was the wife of a sterile man. It made for an uncomfortable time at the Castle Bastel. Many servants lost limbs, fingers and in one case their head due to her ill temper. "Yes, I am sure but once again I think you have underestimated your opponent."

"He has not been seen in years and is still in Bucharest, I do not fear him. He is but a spider under my foot if he tries to interfere with my plans for Peter and Barnabas. Peter will fall first and as usual, will bring Barnabas down with him." She had leaned into the table to speak softer when the door opened to allow the manservant that was living in the old house with Barnabas entered the room.

Her alert blue eyes followed his slumped figure to the bar, where he folded himself onto the bar from his stool and spoke softly, "Bob may I please have the lunch special, and a Falstaff draft." Bob Rooney had noted that Willie had changed since going to work for the odd cousin of the Collins Family. Bob wrote down his order and then drafted his beer into a mug.

"I don't want no problems Loomis, so don't start anything." Bob's voice was soft but firm, he looked at the slumped shoulder man that had grown more gaunt and pale since he last saw him.

"I don't want no trouble either Bob, just somethin ta eat and a beer and I will be on my way." Willie had spoken softly he watched the lines of his hands. He had heard somewhere that some people could tell by the swirls and curlicues of the lines in your hands how to read your past and your future. He sat there he remembered the beating he had taken the night before by that old Bastard.

But then he had slept fine for the first three hours because he had been dreaming about what a freak Carolyn was in bed, but those dreams had slipped into a surreal world of seeing a dark hair girl, her eyes wide open, staring sightlessly into the night. Her throat had been slit, and the blood had drained into a pit to soak into the unforgiving ground that had become her bed in death. Her dark hair was no longer brushed to perfection nor did it shine. It lay matted with her blood and it stuck to her neck and face plastered there by the coagulated blood from her wound. Those lips he had once fantasized about kissing were now open frozen in a scream of pain, her supple body was now stiff and in rigor laying on the ground and its inhabitants started their process of finding food and a new home up her nose, in her ears and through that mouth frozen open in a scream of unimaginable terror.

Willie formed his hand into a fist, squeezing it and closing his eyes in shame and horror at what he had help perpetrate. He muttered "Damnit! No!" His voice was filled with disgust at how he had caused this new wrinkle in the plan of that monster that controlled his life. "You know Loomis, you should get in your truck and just drive the hell out of this town and shake the stink and dust of it off your shoes." He thought about this plan for just a millisecond until he felt that little nudge into his subconscious and knew it was he, feeling his hatred for the situation that he was now stuck in.

"Oh Willie, you think you can run from me? I suppose you think I should not have beaten you last night for what your stupidity has caused?" Willie heard it plain as day in his mind and a part of him secretly wondered if that old Bastard was actually talking to him or were those the suggestions he had put in his own mind. Glancing up he saw Bob coming back with a plate of meatloaf, corn, green beans and cornbread. Willie fished out the dollar that the meal cost and then laid another quarter out for a tip.

Bob looked at the quarter and then the dollar and pushed the quarter back. "Look Loomis if that is all you can cough up for a tip, you need it far worse then I do, so keep it." Willie wanted to snap back with a smart retort but he could not find it in him to say anything. He just nodded, pocketed the money and sat at the bar and ate his lunch.

"Pathetic isn't he? Collins has him in his thrall and the poor fool cannot break it." Angelique observed from her chair watching the young man. "I suppose some day he will be killed and his lifeless body drained and found floating in the ocean." She observed and then looked up as the door opened and a very fastidiously dressed Roger Collins breezed into the bar, paused clapped Willie on the back, wished him a fine afternoon, ordered a bottle of champagne to be delivered to the table then sashayed with a light step to the table that held Cassandra and Nicholas.

"Ahh, the beauty of the day pales to the beauty that occupies this table!" He swept her hand into his and kissed it. "I must say this day suddenly grown a lot brighter now that I am sharing this day with you my dear." He curled her fingers over his hand and kissed each finger. "You know I was just noticing what lovely long fingers you have but somehow they seemed to be lacking something."

"Oh Roger," she giggled softly fluttering her lashes and smiled into his intent face. "You are making my day complete by speaking all those lovely words." She curled her fingers gently over his hand. "Nicholas don't you think Roger is very romantic?"

Nicholas looked away and noted the two men sitting quietly in the corner drinking coffee and dressed almost identical. "I think he has more on his mind than the business of the cannery my dear." He smiled but again that smile was only superficial he turn his attention from the men and focused back on Roger.

Roger turned to Nicholas and smiled, "Well as your parents are dead and you are the head of this house, I would like to take this time to ask for your sister's hand in marriage." Roger kissed her fingers after asking Nicholas for permission to marry his sister.

"Why Roger what a surprise, well of course if my sister wishes it who am I to stand in the way of true love?" Nicholas offered with all the appropriate tones of joy and felicitations for his sister. "What say you Cassandra my dear?" Nicholas smiled and held that charm in place. "Do you accept the offer of Marriage by Roger?"

Angelique had several centuries to perfec the appropriate girls gush and first flush of love she lowered those lashes, smiled brightly and said so softly, "Oh Roger how could I not accept your kind and most generous offer, you are my inspiration for life my love. I will gladly accept your proposal and would be very happy to marry you and be Mrs. Roger Collins."

Roger reached into his coat pocket and withdrew a ring box. Bringing the box out, he let go of her hand to open it to display a perfectly cut half caret diamond ring. Taking the ring from its velvet bed, he took her left hand and slipped the ring into place and smiled. "To a new life for both of us and new beginnings that will be happy and fruitful." He leaned over and captured her lips kissing her lightly. Sitting back he smiled, "Then we must plan our wedding and set a date my dearest Cassandra."

Angelique smiled she admired the ring on her finger and could not wait to show it to Peter. She knew he would be bothered by this new twist in their new arrangement but was prepared to deal with it so that she got what she wanted and her master got what he wanted. Looking coyly over her hand she studied Nicholas and noted he had become distracted. He was watching a woman that looked very much like Josette.

A slight frown edged her brow she studied the simple looking woman that was a pale comparison to her former employer. "Who is that woman?" Nicholas asked he watched the woman step to the bar and speak softly to Bob and then nod to Willie. What caught his attention the most was the stiffening of Willie when she stood near him. The way he shifted away from her and the slump of his shoulders and the hanging of his head closer to the bar where he sat propped up on one closed fist.

Roger glanced over to the bar and spoke off handedly, "Oh that is Maggie Evans. She is the one that went missing for a period of time and then just showed up in here one night with no memory of what had happened to her." Nicholas smiled and for the first time, he was actually happy to be here in this small going nowhere fast town. "Is she friends with the Collins family?"

Roger glanced back at the animated way she was talking to Bob and then to Willie who was becoming more and more withdrawn from her. "She is best friends with Vicki, they formed an odd relationship when Vicki first arrived here in Collinsport. She is one of the local artists daughter and she is engaged to one of my employees."

The opening of the door brought Nicholas' attention to the door and there he saw a tall handsome dark haired young man with bright blue eyes and a ready smile entered the door. When Maggie turned to face the door, her eyes lit up and her smile brightened her whole demeanor. "Joe! I didn't know you were coming here?" Joe stepped to her side, bent down and kissed her cheek, which brought a sweet flush of color to her cheeks and a brighter light to her face.