Dark Shadows: Back to the Past
Chapter 21
1
Quentin Collins didn't trust his new-found cousin. He had no doubt Edith had been trying to tell them something about him. The Collins family had a very dark secret and it had been passed down from generation to generation. But, that secret perished when Edith died before she could relay that secret to the family. Quentin was certain she was frightened of Barnabas Collins. But why? If he were a cousin from England, she would never have seen him before. Why would she react the way she did to a man she didn't know and had never met? Something was wrong. Quentin had to find out what it was.
He walked over to the credenza and poured himself a glass of sherry. Carl watched his brother with interest. "What did you think of our English cousin?"
Quentin turned around to face him. After taking another sip of his sherry, he responded, "I don't know. Something isn't right with him. I don't trust him."
"He certainly is a stuffed shirt," Carl said with a grin. "I thought he was going to hit me given the way he responded to that fake gun."
Quentin shook his head. "One of these days, someone is going to be carrying a gun of their own and they're going to shoot you dead when you pull that on them. You are lucky our new cousin wasn't carrying a gun. I have no doubt he could shoot you without compunction."
"Well, he didn't, now did he?" Carl said grinning.
Quentin finished his drink and set it down on the credenza. Shaking his head, he turned and headed out of the drawing room. "I'm going for a walk."
As he opened the double doors, Judith came down the staircase. "Quentin, where are you going at this hour?"
He turned back and smiled at his sister. "For a walk. Would you like to join me, dear sister?"
"No, it's far too late to be going for a walk."
He frowned. "I didn't hear you tell Cousin Barnabas and his friends that, Judith. If it's too late for me, wouldn't it be too late for them as well?"
"I don't have anything to say about how late they're out."
Quentin bowed and grinned. "And you don't have anything to say about how late I'm out either." He walked out and shut the door. Standing there for a moment, he wondered why he wanted to walk around at such a late hour. Judith was right; it was too late to be roaming around. He smiled at the thought. Since when did that ever influence his decision to go out at night?
Looking in the direction of the Old House, Quentin decided there was no time like the present to start finding out just who Barnabas Collins was. He didn't doubt the man was a Collins. After all, he was an exact duplicate of the man pictured in the portrait in the foyer of the Great House. He had to be a Collins. Still, Quentin simply couldn't get Edith's reaction to him out of his mind. There had to be a reason why she seemed so terrified of him. And, that wasn't the only thing troubling him. It was the look on Barnabas' face. He had looked worried about her reaction. What was this man hiding? Quentin had to know. Why was he here at this particular time? He was determined to find the answers to those questions. If Barnabas Collins wasn't who he represented himself to be, then Quentin was going to find out.
2
Barnabas stood in front of the fireplace and stared at the flames. What was he doing here? He had no intention of allowing Quentin Collins to go through the time portal, so why didn't they just get David Collins and go back to their own time? Every minute they stayed put the timeline in jeopardy. At the very least, the vampire should have come here alone. With Robert Ironside, Eve Whitfield, and Elliott Stokes here with him, there was a very good chance one of them would do something to inadvertently alter the timeline. Then again, wasn't that why they were here in the first place . . . to alter the timeline? Barnabas just wanted to have Julia convert him back to a human, rid him of this curse he was under, so he could live out the rest of his "normal" life. Unfortunately, nothing was normal in Collinsport. Ghost, witches, warlocks, werewolves, and vampires were the norm in his hometown. Maybe once Julia found a cure for his condition, they could leave Collinsport for good; go somewhere no one knew them. Then maybe they could live a normal life. California might be just the place. If they settled in San Francisco, they would at least have a friend in Robert Ironside. It could be the start of a totally new life . . . a normal life. Other than the vampires who invaded San Francisco because Andrew Adell wanted to take over the vampire council, there were no known supernatural beings in the city.
Robert Ironside walked into the drawing room. For a big man, he could move rather quietly, at least without his squeaky wheelchair. Mark never seemed to keep it oiled well enough. The only thing he could say for this flaming time travel was he was back on his feet, at least temporarily. Watching the vampire, Ironside could tell he was troubled about something. Ironside had no doubt; Barnabas was worried about the timeline. Any one of the four of them could alter it and not necessarily for the good.
"Barnabas, we're here for a reason. Once we've accomplished it, we can go back home. So, I suggest we start doing some planning."
The vampire turned around to see his friend standing in the doorway of the drawing room. "Robert, I've been thinking. Maybe we shouldn't try to change anything here. We know where David is; we could just go get him and return through the time portal."
"What exactly is that going to accomplish, vampire?" Ironside snarled. "The ghost of Quentin Collins would still exist and we would have to deal with him."
Barnabas was silent for a moment. He knew his friend was right. He turned to face him. Robert Ironside was the only one who could get away with referring to him as vampire. "Robert, the longer the four of us is here, the higher the chance we change the timeline. I don't want to do anything that would harm my family in the present."
Ironside softened his tone. He realized if it were his family, he would feel the same way. He wouldn't want their future altered either. "I know you're concerned, Barnabas, but I see no alternative except to do what the ghost of Quentin Collins wants. Otherwise, he'd just find some other way to get us to return here sometime in the future. All of us will have to be careful not to change anything else."
"But how do we know what that anything else is, Robert? We don't belong here. At least when we went back to 1795, I knew what had already happened. Here, we have no idea. We could have altered time with that visit to Collinwood for all we know."
Ironside had already considered that. Every time they engaged with the people of this time, they took of change of altering someone's future. They weren't completely in the dark, though. "Professor!" Ironside shouted.
Professor Elliott Stokes came down the stairs and joined them in the drawing room. Eve Whitfield followed him and joined them as well. "Yes, Chief, what is it?"
"Tell Barnabas what you brought with you," Ironside ordered.
"Well, before we left, I looked up as much as I could about this time on the internet. I saved it to my phone. It should help us avoid changing the timeline more than we have to."
"Are you forgetting, Professor, that there is no electricity during this time period? That phone will only last as long as the battery does," Eve said.
"Actually, Thomas Edison invented the light bulb in 1879. That was 18 years ago," the professor said.
"Do you see any electrical lamps in this place, Professor?" Ironside asked.
"No, but then there aren't any electrical lamps in the Old House in the present time either," he smiled.
"Well then, I would say the phone will only last as long as the charge does. We certainly can't take a 21st-century invention to Collinwood and ask them to plug it in so we can charge it, now can we?" Ironside's tone was sarcastic.
"Well, I'm going for a walk to get some fresh air. Would any of you gentlemen like to join me?" Eve inquired. "It might help clear our minds."
None of them seemed to want to take a walk, but Barnabas wasn't very keen on Eve going alone and voiced his concerns.
"I am a policewoman, remember. I can take care of myself. Besides, I was brought here for a reason. I understand Quentin frequents the Blue Whale. I think I will mosey on down there and see if he is graced them with his presence." Eve headed for the door.
"Eve!" Ironside called out.
She turned to face her boss. "Yes, Chief."
"Be careful," he said with genuine concern.
She smiled at him. He was always looking out for her. "I will." Leaving the drawing room, Eve headed into the foyer and put on her coat. She opened the double doors and left the Old House. Remembering the road she had taken with Barnabas Collins the last time she was here, she headed in the direction of the Blue Whale.
Eve had forgotten how dark it could be in this area. There weren't any street lights. In fact, it would be almost completely black if it weren't for the moon shining above. It wasn't full, but would be in a day or so. Thinking about the ghost of Quentin Collins, she wondered if the human Quentin would be as charming. He wouldn't recognize her; he hadn't when they met at the Great House. That would leave him at a disadvantage. She certainly knew more about him than he did about her. She had to be careful. She wanted to only catch his attention. Eve had no desire to have him romancing her. A romance in this century was out of the question, even with a man as handsome as Quentin Collins.
Eve continued along the path until she reached the Blue Whale. Entering, she looked around for Quentin Collins. She could't help but be disappointed as she realized he wasn't anywhere to be seen. But, since she was here; she might as well have a drink. Sitting down at one of the tables, she quickly realized she didn't have any money. Unless Quentin showed up, this was going to be a very short visit. Eve studied the people in the room. Most of them she didn't recognize even though she had carefully studied the Collins' family history. Then again, most of the Collins' probably never walked into a place like this. Somehow, she got the feeling Quentin Collins didn't care much that the family felt it was beneath them.
A rather large man headed Eve's way. She took a quick intake of breath as she could've sworn the man was Professor Elliott Stokes with curly, unruly hair. Remembering her studies of the family and those of this time, she realized who the man was. He had to be Petofi. He fit the description. Knowing this man was supposed to be a very powerful warlock, Eve felt uneasy as he approached her table.
"You're new here," Petofi said.
"Yes, I am," Eve replied.
"Have you moved here or are you just visiting?" Petofi sat down in the chair next to her without an invitation.
The man made her very uncomfortable, but Eve tried her best to hide it, although, she wasn't sure if she had succeeded. "Just visiting. We're here with Barnabas Collins. We met him in New York," she told him. "It was his idea for us to come and stay with him for a while."
"I'm Count Petofi," he said offering his hand to her.
"Eve Whitfield," she returned. She shook his hand despite not wanting to.
"You said we? Who's your other companion?"
"Companions," Eve corrected. "I'm here her with Robert Ironside and Elliott Stokes."
"Your husband and a friend?" Petofi asked.
Eve wasn't comfortable with the questions he was asking. He was definitely fishing for information about her and her traveling companions. "No, my father and a family friend."
"Which man is your father?"
"Robert Ironside," Eve answered. She wondered when he was going to stop pumping her for information.
"I see. Will you stay here long?"
"We haven't decided. It will be up to Father."
"Yes, well, I understand Barnabas Collins is from England."
"That's right," she confirmed.
"Where are my manners? Would you like something to drink, Miss Whitfield? Or is Mrs. Whitfield?"
Knowing she would otherwise have the same name as the chief if she really was his daughter, the only explanation would be that Whitfield was her married name. "It is, but I'm a widow." Eve thought it was best to claim to be a widow so she didn't have to make up a life with a non-existent husband.
"Well then, may I offer my condolences on the loss of your husband?"
"Thank you, Count," Eve said graciously.
The door opened and Quentin Collins walked into the Blue Whale. It didn't take him more than a second to spot Eve. He didn't like the company she was keeping. Until this point in time, Quentin had done everything possible to steer clear of the man. He just didn't like him. Something about him bothered him, yet he still wasn't sure what it was.
He made his way through the crowd and headed straight for Eve's table. "Good evening, Mrs. Whitfield. Having you been waiting long for me?" He smiled at her.
Collins was giving her an out, a way to get away from Count Petofi. She tried to contain the flood of relief she felt. "No, I just arrived. I wasn't sure I had the right place for our date."
Quentin raised an eyebrow and smiled. "You have the right place."
Count Petofi stood up. "I wasn't aware Mrs. Whitfield was waiting on a companion. I'll leave the two of you to your date." He bowed toward Eve and said, "Mrs. Whitfield, I am certain we shall meet again. I look forward to meeting Mister Collins, your father, and his friend. Good evening." With that, Count Petofi left the table.
They watched him as he headed for the door. Standing there for a moment, he looked back at Eve and Quentin before leaving the Blue Whale.
"I can't thank you enough, Mister Collins. That man gave me the creeps."
Quentin grinned. "Creeps? Is that an expression where you come from?"
"Yes, in fact, it is."
"Splendid! I shall remember it then. Would you like a drink?" He asked.
"I would. Thank you, Mister Collins."
"Quentin, please use my first name. You can call my father Mister Collins." He stood up, smiled again, and prepared to go to the bar to buy two drinks. "Besides, if we're on a date, you really should call me Quentin." He grinned again. He could see she was a bit embarrassed.
Quentin came back and set a drink in front of Eve. "I hope you like sherry. It's one of my favorites."
"Thank you."
Quentin took a sip of his sherry. He couldn't help but notice what a beautiful woman she was as well as nicely built. He was admiring her physical qualities when he noticed Eve had realized what he was doing. Clearing his throat, Quentin changed his attention to the conversation. "Your father is a rather big man."
Eve nodded. "Yes, he is. Very capable of handling himself."
Quentin wasn't sure if that was a warning or not. "You must look like your mother."
Confused, she asked, "Why do you say that? You've never met my mother."
"Well, you don't look a thing like your father, so I assumed you must look like your mother. What's her name?"
She hesitated for a minute before saying the first name that came to mind. "Katherine." She figured it would be the name the chief would think of if someone asked about a wife. At least she hoped he would. Eve almost panicked when it hit her that he just might use her mother's name, thinking it would be the name she would use. She made a mental note to tell him she had used Katherine's name. It might be wise of them to sit down and create a phony history. Quentin didn't seem very trusting of the chief or Barnabas. She worried he might start checking on them rather than take what they told him at face value.
"A very beautiful name. You're from New York?"
"Yes. I lost my husband a while ago. I quite often travel with my father."
"I see. What about the other gentleman?" Quentin asked, lowering his brow.
"He's a professor. He teaches in New York. He's my father's closest friend."
"And what does your father do, for a living, that is?" Quentin continued to pepper her with questions. This wasn't how she had pictured him.
Given his reputation as a ladies man, she thought for sure he would be more interested in her than anything else.
"He's a constable," Eve said, knowing it could never be confirmed. She only hoped Quentin didn't check into it.
"Ahhh . . . the law. I suppose he's had to deal with some pretty dangerous people in New York."
Eve smiled. He had dealt with dangerous people, only in San Francisco, but she wouldn't tell him that. She wasn't even sure if San Francisco existed at this point in time. She would have to consult the history books to know for sure. She was a bit embarrassed she didn't know San Francisco's history better. "Yes, he has." Eve thought about the dangerous vampires, werewolves and witches, which she wouldn't tell him about either.
"Listen, I was wondering if you'd like to have dinner with me." Quentin took her hand in his. He was taken with this beautiful woman. He felt guilty, thinking about Beth, but he just couldn't help himself. Eve Whitfield was beautiful and he wanted to get to know her better.
Eve smiled. She didn't like what she was about to do, but it was the reason she was here. "I think I would like that very much," she told him.
A big smile appeared on his face. "Splendid! I'll call on you tomorrow night. Are you staying with Barnabas Collins?"
"Yes, both my father and I will be staying there for the time being." she said.
"Well then, I think I'd better walk you back to the Old House. You shouldn't be roaming around at night alone. I'll be your escort!"
"Thank you, Quentin." She hoped she'd be able to distract him enough so Barnabas, the chief, and the professor could accomplish what they came here to do.
On the way back to the Old House, they made small talk. Fortunately, Quentin didn't pry any further into her life. He mostly talked about himself, the family, and the family business. Eve was relieved she didn't have to make up any more about her life. She'd have to make sure she told the others what she had said, so that if Quentin questioned them, they would substantiate her fibs. She smiled. Now the chief had her fibbing in the line of duty.
When they arrived at the Old House, Eve found the door locked. Of course, it should be with a vampire in residence. She looked up at Quentin. "I guess we'll have to knock." Using the knocker, Eve did just that. A few seconds later the door was opened by the gypsy woman, Magna.
She stood there giving Quentin a disapproving look. She made no move to open the door further or invite him in. Finally, Eve pushed her way past the gypsy and said, "Come in for a moment, Quentin."
"Huh," Magna grunted and left the foyer.
Eve led Quentin into the drawing room by the hand. Sitting with a glasses of sherry in their hands were Robert Ironside and Elliott Stokes. They both stood upon Quentin's arrival.
"Well, Mister Collins, we didn't expect to see you this evening," Stokes said with a slight smile.
"Nor I you," Quentin said. "I ran into Eve at the Blue Whale. I thought it best to escort her back. I'm surprised, Constable Ironside, that you would allow her to roam around in the dark without an escort."
Ironside tried to remember what century he was in. After all, women didn't roam around alone. "I don't like it any more than you do, Mister Collins. Eve has a mind of her own and doesn't always do as I wish. She has a habit of taking a walk at night. She prefers to do it alone."
Still holding her hand, Quentin continued, "Well, sir, I wouldn't allow it. However, I must ask your permission to take your daughter to dinner tomorrow night."
Ironside eyed Quentin with suspicion. There was no doubt Collins read it in his eyes as he could see it in Quentin Collins' eyes. "I could say no, but Eve would simply go anyway, so you have my permission."
"Thank you, Constable," Quentin said with a bow. He noticed Barnabas was nowhere to be seen. He wondered where the man could be. Who left a house full of guests and just took off? "Where's your host?" Quentin asked.
"He went out," was all the explanation Ironside gave him.
"I see. I'll bid you a good evening then. I don't feel comfortable without the man of the house in residence." Quentin raised Eve's hand, kissed it, and smiled. "Until tomorrow night." He bowed to Ironside and Stokes, turned, and left the Old House.
"You didn't waste any time, Officer Whitfield," Ironside said.
"I thought that's what you wanted me to do," Eve responded.
"It is. I just didn't expect it so fast. Quentin Collins doesn't waste any time either. I assume he approached you," Ironside said.
"He did and I'm glad he did. I ran into Count Petofi," she explained.
"Petofi!" Professor Stokes exclaimed. "What did you think of him?"
"I didn't like him one bit," Eve answered. "Although, Professor, he looks like your twin except for the curly hair, which he wears rather unruly."
"You didn't like him one bit and he looks like my twin," the professor said with amusement.
Realizing how it must have sounded, Eve tried to clarify. "I didn't mean that the way it sounded. His looks are the only thing that reminds me of you. He just gave me the creeps, that's all."
Stokes chuckled. "That's one of Willie's favorite words."
"What Officer Whitfield means, Professor, is Petofi made her uncomfortable," Ironside said.
"No, I mean he gave me the creeps. He was fishing for information about us and Barnabas. He just gave off a . . . I don't know. He's just someone I'd rather avoid. I wouldn't want to make an enemy of him."
"I'm afraid that's exactly what we're going to do, Eve," her boss told her. "If we're to protect Quentin Collins, he's not going to like it. We'll make an enemy of him. That's why the professor was brought along; to help us deal with him since he's an ancestor of the Petofi."
Eve looked around. "Where is Barnabas by the way? You didn't exactly say."
"Feeding," the chief explained. "He wanted to go far from Collinsport. We don't need to cause a panic with women being attacked in this area. I talked him into choosing another community for his hunting grounds."
3
Barnabas walked through the woods. He'd just returned from a nearby town where he had fed on a prostitute. He could've easily found one here, but Robert had been adamant about him going out of the area. He supposed his friend was right. He certainly didn't want to draw attention to himself. It would be counterproductive to the reason they were here.
He looked up to the sky. It was overcast and a storm would be rolling in soon. The clouds were dark as if they were warning of their coming anger. Barnabas' keen sight would allow him to see the sky as no human could. He decided he'd better get back to the Old House before the downpour. As he prepared to turn into a bat, he could sense someone nearby. A vampire could tell when people were in the area by the smell of their blood.
Rather than head toward the Old House, the vampire started in the direction where the smell of blood coming from. He continued along the path as the aroma of the human blood became stronger. Then he heard someone call out.
"Is there someone there?" The voice said. It was a feminine voice
He answered right away. "It's Barnabas Collins. I mean you no harm. I'm a member of the Collins family staying at the Old House.
He hadn't been prepared for what he was about to see. Out of the darkness, Josette . . . his Josette came walking toward him. "Josette!" He exclaimed before he had time to think.
Puzzled by the stranger, Rachel Drummond stared in bewilderment. "I'm sorry. What did you call me?"
Barnabas realized how he had addressed her. To cover for his blunder, he said, "Pardon me, but you look like someone I used to know. I am Barnabas Collins. I am from the English branch of the Collins family. And who might you be?"
"Rachel Drummond," she answered.
Barnabas couldn't keep from staring at her. She had to be a reincarnation of Josette Collins. There wasn't any other explanation for the perfect resemblance between them. "You must forgive me. You could easily be Josette Collins."
She was very confused by his remark. "I don't understand. You couldn't possibly have known Josette. She lived a hundred years ago." Barnabas realized he made another blunder. He had to try to correct it. "What I meant was you bear a startling resemblance to her. Have you not seen her portrait in the Old House?" He hoped she had never actually been in the Old House as he couldn't remember whether it was still hanging there at this time.
"I have never been in the Old House, Mister Collins. So no, I would have to say I have no idea what Josette Collins looked like. I only know as much about her as I have been told by others. Mostly from Quentin."
"Then you must visit the Old House and I shall show you the portrait." If it wasn't hanging in the mansion, he would order Magna and Sandor to find it immediately. He simply must make sure she saw it. If she were the reincarnation of Josette Collins, there was a possibility it might kindle emotions that would lead to feelings for him. Barnabas forgot all about his relationship with Julia. Rachel had such a profound effect upon him.
"Thank you, Mister Collins, I shall do exactly that. Now I must get home."
"Please call me Barnabas and I shall escort you home. A lady should not be alone out here at this time of night." The vampire didn't realize he was placing their mission in jeopardy. Deep down, he knew he shouldn't pursue Rachel, but her resemblance to his long lost Josette was clouding his judgment. He offered his arm and Rachel took it. Barnabas could smell the blood. Her closeness was threatening her safety. He was fighting an overwhelming urge to bite her.
4
Aristede entered the parlor. Count Petofi was sitting by the fire. He looked up when the young man walked it. "What is it, Aristede?"
"Barnabas Collins from England has arrived here in Collinsport. He brought three friends with him."
"I am aware of that. You didn't disturb me to tell me that did you?" He looked down at his arm that was missing a hand. It had been severed because it was no ordinary hand. It contained the secret to his powers. Even though it was missing, he still had some of the powers of a warlock without it. Still, nothing compared to the powers he had when the hand was attached. He had to get the hand back.
Petofi had been watching Quentin Collins for some time now and with the powers of the hand, he would be able to trade places with the handsome Collins. He had to find that hand. He needed to have it reattached so that he could wield its powers. It would be necessary for him to find something he could hold over Quentin Collins.
The count suspected Barnabas Collins was a threat to his plans. He didn't know why he felt that way. He had no intention of ignoring it. His gut feelings were never wrong.
"No, Count. I came to tell you about Barnabas Collins. He looks exactly like the man in the portrait at Collinwood."
Petofi turned quickly to his servant, and said, "You mean he resembles the man in the portrait?"
"No, I mean he could be the man in the portrait. There is no difference between him and the likeness of the man in that portrait."
Standing up, he walked over to Aristede. "I want this man watched. Keep an eye on the others with him. I met Eve Whitfield tonight at the Blue Whale. She was evasive in the answers to the questions I asked her. I was unable to find out very much. Quentin Collins interfered. She said she had a date with him, but I could tell she made that up. Collins went along with it. I can't allow these people to stand in the way of my plans for Quentin Collins. Is that understood?"
"Yes, perfectly, Count." Aristede turned to go. Stopping at the door, he looked back. "I think there's something else you should know. One of the men with Barnabas Collins is a man named Elliott Stokes. He looks exactly like you. His hair is darker and slicked back. But, there is no mistaking his face is your face."
Petofi was shocked and curious at the same time. "I think it's time we meet Barnabas Collins and his companions. Something tells me he's not what he represents himself to be. We shall find out. If they're here to interfere with my plans for Quentin, they'll have to be eliminated. Is that all, Aristide?"
"It is," he said and left Petofi's cottage.