Chapter 7

Upon his return, Barnabas found Kathleena standing before the fire watching as the flames licked high at the air, casting a warm glow on her face. Fingers still rested on her lush lips, her shapely brows furrowed in a mix of confusion and a touch of amazement, if truth be told. Coming to stand before her, a pale gaze slid to his black eyes glittering in the firelight. Clearing his throat Barnabas announced, quite matter of factly, "I can remove your scars."

Striding angrily to the entrance of the cave, Kathleena stared up at the moon that hung full and bright in the night's star dusted sky and raised her hand to her throat. (Do you think me an imbecile? What you say is impossible!)

"You'd also thought it impossible for someone to communicate with you, and yet..." Kathleena turned at the touch of a cold but gentle hand upon her shoulder. "I would not have offered if I couldn't. I do not make promises lightly."

(If what you say is true, why would you do such a thing? For that matter, why help me at all?)

Frowning uncomfortably, he focused instead on the large black ring resting on his index finger.

At his silence Kathleena nodded, her look one of complete dejection. (Yes, of course. I do not want your pity, Damn you.)

Taking ahold of her chin he lifted her gaze to his and saw keen sadness and hurt there. "You've faced so much pain in your young life. Although I cannot erase your memories, I am able to remove the marks left behind as constant reminders."

She shook her head. Impossible of course. No one could have such power. And yet, what of her own ability? Were there just one chance in a million that he... oh, mon Dieu... to hope. With a sigh, the Frenchwoman searched soft brown eyes seeing nothing but a sincere look of kindness in their depths. Here he was, offering her the sky. Would she have the courage to accept such a gift? Realizing she would be no worse should he fail as he was certain to do, Kathleena took a steadying breath.

(What must I do?)

Spreading his fine cloak upon the ground Barnabas gestured, "Lie here and close your eyes." Glancing at him curiously she did as he instructed, long delicate lashes coming to rest against ivory cheeks. "Your eyes must remain closed for the entire process." She took a calming breath and nodded. "You will feel quite odd but it is necessary."

She gulped silently. (I understand.)

Sliding down alongside her, the Englishman could feel the nervous anxiety radiating from Kathleena Tell's stiff body. "I will not harm you." Inhaling deeply, exhaling slowly Barnabas closed his eyes. True, he had no longer the need to breathe but this action demanded all of his concentratation. Something inside told him that the task would prove near monumental. Lowering the lacy bodice of her gown, he exposed a swanlike neck and ivory shoulders, forcing his gaze from the tops of full white breasts encased in the thin material of her plain shift. Balanced over her still form, the vampire shook his head at himself, opened his mouth and put it against her warm throat.

Unable to help herself, Kathleena trembled wildly. The tip of his tongue felt like a shard of ice, slowly and methodically tracing the jagged remains of Duncan's vicious attack long ago.

Flicking his tongue along the surface of her skin, Barnabas growled deeply. He could hear the hot flow of blood whooshing quickly through her veins with every beat of her heart. He could practically taste it through her skin. The sound was mesmerizing. The scent, exotic. With superhuman effort, he pulled himself away gazing down at the young woman lying there. "Keep your eyes closed," he strongly cautioned. His words were strained, forced tightly through clenched teeth. Silently pleading for the strength to continue, Barnabas gazed at her, momentarily fighting the desperate urge to touch the incredible body beneath him.

She could feel his dark eyes roaming over her body and a strong shiver ran along her spine. Kathleena wondered at it. At herself. No longer did she feel cold nor fright only a pleasantly warm, comfortable sensation as it slowly invaded her being from head to toe. Never had she felt thus. And she sensed his want, pounding and palpable, as he hovered above, She felt his need... His hunger.

Barnabas' icy tongue eventually returned to its mark, gently tracing the final remnants of her former disfigurement. Lingering a moment longer than necessary, he knew he needed to feed and very soon. Reluctantly removing himself, he rose and walked away pausing to stare into the fire. "I am done."

Kathleena stood and came to him, her throat bared, causing him to groan softly. She was completely unaware of the dangerous position in which she was placing herself. Resting long fingers softly against now flawless flesh, she looked at him with incredible hope and a quiet determination he didn't understand.

(It is gone? Truly?)

Piercing eyes fell to where her fingertips lay, focusing intently as they trailed along the strong pulse throbbing just beneath her skin. Why is this happening? It seemed as though she beckoned him to take her. Feeling sharp tips of his fangs touch his bottom lip, Barnabas knew he was mere seconds from overpowering her...consuming her and she would taste absolutely delicious. Of that he did not doubt for a single instant. Turning away he hissed, "I swear to you, the proof of the attack you've suffered is no more." His tone was clipped, thick with the desperate control needed not to tear into her.

Unable to help herself, Kathleena threw her arms about him, resting her head on his broad back. (Merci! Dear Lord Merci!)

Feeling the heat of her body against him, her hot breath breezing against the nape of his neck, Barnabas' dark gaze fell to his chest, to the quick pulse pounding in her slim wrists. Fighting so strongly to quell the urge, to resist until daybreak, he knew he had failed miserably. No longer could he deny himself; he had to appease this damned lust for blood. Clutching one of her small hands in his large icy fingers, he slowly turned, pained, haunted eyes drilling into hers. "I'm sorry," he whispered.

Shivering as his intense look devoured her, Kathleena stepped closer shaking her head, chestnut tresses bouncing to and fro. (There's no need... ) With that single thought, she tilted her head to one side, freely offering herself to his fierce hunger. As his final thread of control snapped, Barnabas snarled viciously. There was no time to question why. Not now! Tightly gripping her miniscule waist, he lifted her pulling her as close as possible. Holding Kathleena firmly against him, he closed his eyes and plunged sharp fangs deeply into her soft flesh.

Mouthing a silent cry, Kathleena arched upward as he drank from her, the sound of long steady swallows echoing in her brain. She grew dizzy as the cave spiraled wildly before her wavering gaze then she was floating gently to earth as he carefully lowered her to the comfort of his warm cloak. The vampire reveled in the taste of blood so sweet, so intoxicating as it flooded his throat. Dark eyes opened, surprised with the sudden knowledge... dear God! She was a virgin! Unable to help himself, Barnabas felt a shiver of long forgotten desire pulse though him. A primal, very human desire that had absolutely nothing to do with a taste for blood. At his wayward thoughts of faithlessness, he abruptly ended the feed and licked away the taletell marks. Raising a dark head, he gazed at her. Eyes closed, she breathed deeply. With a shake of his head, he left to gather the firewood needed to keep her warm throughout the cold night and long day ahead.

Upon his return, Barnabas found Kathleena huddled near the flames, sobbing silently, arms wrapped tightly about herself. The kindling forgotten, he dropped to his haunches beside her. "I've hurt you."

Brushing tears away with the back of her hand, she sniffled loudly. (No. You don't understand.) It was not pain she felt. Not hers in any case. While alone, Kathleena had the chance to revisit the visions she'd briefly experienced earlier. Dear God! The unimaginable horror this man had to endure night after night. Year after year. Unlike her problems with Duncan, at least there was an end in sight. Not a happy one to be sure, but an end nonetheless. Barnabas Collins however…

No longer insensate with hunger, the vampire's eyes narrowed, realizing in that instant she was fully cognizant of what he was. She had the knowledge to destroy him. His entire existence was in jeopardy. Pouncing immediately he pinned her down and demanded, "How have you come to discover what I am!?"

Kathleena was not a fool. She knew she should be terrified of this man, but for some reason couldn't bring about the emotion. Not after all he had done for her. Barnabas Collins was not an evil being by choice. He was what the vile witch had turned him into; doing what was necessary in order to survive. Unlike Duncan who sickened her; who freely chose to murder and torture. She thought back to that dreadful evening at her father's chateau, to the chilling moment when Duncan stood draining her blood from the decanter. The Englishman now poised above her had committed the same act, more or less. And yet, not only had she not been disgusted by his actions; she had actually offered herself to him without hesitation. For God sakes, why?

Pale eyes roamed his hardened face as he impatiently waited for her answer, fully aware that he held her very life in his hands. Had he so chose, he could end her existence as easily as one would an ant without a second thought. Kathleena sighed. Would he believe her outlandish explaination? Should she even try? Perhaps it would best if she were dead. After all, what had she to live for? But then, unbidden, the words spilled forth in her mind, refusing to be silenced.

(I am cursed.)

Arched brows shot up at the word. The single word she knew he, of all people, would understand.

(At birth, I was given a very rare ability. I am able to know a person through touch.) Staring up into his dark eyes, she frowned. (When you touched me, you gave me the knowledge. I know everything about you, Barnabas Collins. Your past. Your secrets. Everything. I know of the dreadful suicide of your mother Naomi and the horrible fever that took the life of your sister, Sarah. I know of your beloved fiancé, Josette who jumped from a cliff overlooking the sea ...and how you blame yourself for their deaths.) Swallowing, she took a steadying breath, (…And I know of the sorceress who placed the eternal curse on you… and why. Your memories, your experiences are now my own.)

She watched a myriad of expressions cross Barnabas' gaunt features as he dissected her words. Finally his narrowed eyes returned to hers. "You know that I am inhuman. I am dead. That I am a -"

Aware of the pain he suffered at the utterance of that one hated word, Kathleena quickly nodded. (I know.)

His gaze burned into her, impaling her to the ground. "If you know everything as you claim, then you must know that I will go to any lengths necessary to protect my secret."

Kathleena nodded unflinchingly. (Oui.)

Barnabas was stunned by her complete lack of fear of him, particularly since he'd fed from her. Perhaps it is death she truly wants. If so, why? "Who has done this? Given you this - ability?"

Kathleena looked away. (Angelique Bouchard.)

A dark emotion of pure loathing flashed across his face at the mention of that vile creature. Recalling that she had uttered Angelique's name while in the deepest throes of agony he demanded, angrily, "Why? How do you know of her?"

Surprising even herself, the explaination poured forth to the one man in all the world who fully understood the witch's evil power. Satisfied, Barnabas nodded and lifting himself, pulled her up with him. In doing so his icy lips accidently brushed against hers and Kathleena inhaled sharply, suffused again with wonderous sensations only this time a strange warmth throbbed low in her belly. No...lower...actually...

Taking her beautiful face in his cold hands, Barnabas slowly, gently caressed her jaw finding delight in the feel of her warmth. Despite the desire he felt to keep the memory of his beloved Josette alive, he could no longer deny his lust. It had been so long... so damn long! Astounded, he felt the woman mesh against him. Closing her eyes, Kathleena willing submitted to his charms. If she was to live only to die a vicious death at Duncan's whim, she was determined to know passion once before that madman claimed her, before he demanded her. She would gladly take what this stranger had to offer, despite what he was. Kathleena would take the memory to her grave.

(Please...) she silently whimpered.

With a quiet hiss, Barnabas gently flung her away, instantly slinking further into the cold blackness of the cavern. Kathleena stood trembling and confused until she heard the soft crescendo of bird songs erupting behind her. She turned realizing why he'd left so quickly. Morning had broken. Sliding to her knees, she shook her head. Had dawn not come at that precise moment what would have ensued between them? As she watched a bright beam of sunlight slowly trickle through the entrance, Kathleena could not decide whether to thank the beginning of a new day or damn it.

A short time later Kathleena found herself shuddering and inhaled sharply. The pain had returned, fierce and pounding, taking her by utter surprise. While with Barnabas Collins she'd nearly forgotten her injuries. Did he have such power? Chewing her bottom lip in indecision, the woman stabbed her nails into her palms, knowing she couldn't bear the agony an instant longer. She needed the laudanum. Rummaging in and around the bundle, Kathleena silently growled when she found nothing. Her hands searched the pockets of his cloak she was wearing. Empty. She swallowed. Where could it be? (Merde!) Perhaps. Perhaps he had it on him.

Gritting her teeth against the now searing pain radiating between her shoulder blades, Kathleena found the small pile of twigs Barnabas had dropped earlier. Lighting the end of a thicker branch, she carefully picked her way deeper into the heart of the cave, the torch casting eerie shadows all about her. She soon discovered Barnabas lying on his back; safe from any sunlight that might enter. With a tremble, Kathleena pulled the cape tightly about her slim form. Although she was not afraid, she thought it very odd indeed to see him there, still and pale in death.

Now bent over like an old woman crippled with excruciating agony, Kathleena fell to her knees, her hands shaking violently as she quickly searched his pockets for the medicine. Feeling as though she were in a race with Satan himself, the visions, relentless and callous began to crash down viciously upon her. (No! Please, not now. Lord, where is it?)

Relief flooded her as long fingers brushed against the tiny bottle. (Oh Dieu...Merci!) Uncorking it, she took a long steady swallow. Before the drug took hold, however, the young woman was pulled back into the past. To a time nearly fifty years hence, forced to endure the pain, the memories as incredible images of his final day on earth as a living man dwarfed her own current agony.

As though she was a single audience member watching a macabre play, the Frenchwoman stood in the elegantly decorated great room of the Collins' family manor. Barnabas and Angelique faced one another as they viciously argued. Now bonded with him, Kathleena experienced the Englishman's ardent emotions.

Why could Angelique not understand? She simply refused to listen. He had tried to be a gentleman but growing frustrated, his words were now laced with a poisonous venom. In love with another, Barnabas stood before her, furiously spurning Angelique, a woman with whom he had had a brief sexual dalliance. Noting the fire, the hatred raging within icy depths, Kathleena lifted a hand in a futile attempt to try to stop him. Impossible, of course.

Unbeknownst to Barnabas, the woman he chose to dabble with, to reject was a powerful sorceress straight from the dark pits of hell itself. In order to remain among the living, Belzibub demanded she find a human to love her, to wed her. Willingly. Furious with her lover's rejection, and particularly incensed that he found her mistress, Josette much more desirable than she, Angelique sent a powerful beast, a gigantic bat to punish, to be Barnabas's harbinger of death. If she could not have him, she'd be damned if her mistress would.

Unable to watch the scene unfold a moment longer, Kathleena fell to her knees, tears sliding from beneath closed lashes. (Oh God, No!) Dropping her face into her hands, she winced at the deafening crash of glass as the massive creature broke through tall windows overlooking Naomi Collins' beloved rose gardens. She experienced his heart stopping terror as the determined monster pinned Barnabas against a thick marble column in the lavish parlor.

Kathleena understood there was no possible chance for escape. The bat was tenaciously single-minded, sent to perform one grim, specific task, unable to leave until its mission was concluded to its mistress's complete satisfaction. She choked on the tears clogging her throat as he screamed maniacally, insane with boiling agony. Attaching itself hungrily to the exposed flesh of Barnabas' neck, the animal emptied him of life and filled him with a vicious curse of the undead. No longer would he know the light of day, only the blackness of night. Know only of the terrible lust for blood deep within him. Night after night... year after year, century after century…

The laudanum finally taking effect, Kathleena was gratefully torn from the horrifying vision. Sobbing as she stared down into his gaunt face, she crumpled against the vampire's stiff cold body, welcoming her release from his unbelievable anguish.

Many hours later Barnabas woke to something pressing against his chest. Lifting his arms, he encountered flesh soft and warm. No, not warm. Hot! Burning hot…like fire. Trembling with remembered sensations, he slowly opened his eyes and found Kathleena draped limply over him.

"No!"

Why had she come to him? Here... to the deepest chill of the cave? How long had she lain against him absorbing the iciness of his body? Feeling her face, he cursed loudly. Damn! She had the fever! Gently lifting her from him, Barnabas heard something clink against a rock and shatter. Looking down into the darkness, he spotted the remnants of the laudanum bottle, rounding on himself for not leaving it with her. She must have been in excruciating agony to come here and seek it out.

"Kathleena!" he said firmly, carefully striking her less battered cheek and shaking her head. "Kathleena, come now, awaken!" She was deeply unconscious. How much of the drug had she taken? Again trying to channel her thoughts, to control her mind, he shook his head. It was hopeless. Growling loudly, Barnabas rose and, wrapping his cloak firmly about her small form, carried her past the unlit fire pit towards the blackness of the night.

Hesitating at the mouth of the cave, he frowned. Never had he felt so confused! A dark gaze fell to bundle in his arms. Had she the ability to do this to him? Gently propping her against a scraggy wall, he relit the fire. She would need all of its warmth upon their return. But now he had to lower the fever before her mind boiled inside her skull. Suddenly thoughts of a little dark haired girl, long ago, also burning with fever invaded his memories. Sarah… Sarah…No! He had caused his precious sister's illness, her death; this one would not become another casualty of his monstrous curse.

Now, kneeling on the ground before an icy stream, Barnabas cradled the young woman gently in his arms. Although deeply unconscious, Kathleena screamed inside herself as he carefully lowered her, fully clothed into the frigid water. Swallowing the thick lump in his throat, Barnabas vowed, "You will be better soon. I swear it!" He said it purely for his benefit. He needed to hear the words. Needed to believe them. Pulling her from the water, he meant to rush her to the cave and set her before the blaze.

Instantly, dark eyes narrowed at the sound of a deep snarl, low and vicious behind them. This was all he needed, dammit. Barnabas clutched her protectively against his lean chest only to be knocked off balance by the massive blow to his back, sharp claws slashing through his suit coat. Kathleena fell to the ice covered ground, sliding several feet away. Separating them stood the lone surviving wolf from last night.

Lips curled, the animal glared knowingly at the vampire revealing sharp fangs glistening in the moonlight. Turning a long muzzle in the direction of the woman, the beast growled. Reaching for his cane, Barnabas was shocked to discover it missing. He'd left it back in the cave. "Dalmiir…Protect!" he screamed, praying his steed responded in time.

As the creature began to advance on Kathleena, Barnabas bent low preparing to transform, when the black stallion crashed headlong through the forest. With one powerful toss of his massive skull, Dalmiir launched the beast against a rocky embankment, impaling the animal onto rocks as sharp as knives. A final death whine and the horse's weighty breaths were now the only sounds in the otherwise silent night. Rushing to Kathleena's side, the Englishman immediately scooped her into his strong arms and sprinted the slight distance to the cave. Laying her gently before the flames, Barnabas began to remove her sodden clothing.

"No!" he cried out in both agony and horror and forced himself away. His hunger for her was returning with a voraciousness he'd never felt . Licking his icy lips, Barnabas closed his eyes, shaking with lust as he remembered the intoxicating taste of virginal blood. No! Not again!

Insane with uncontrollable need, he rushed from the cavern in the direction of the stream, to the body of the slain wolf. He hissed through his teeth, keenly aware that he was too late. The night was much too cold. The blood had already begun to congeal in the carcass.

"Dalmiir…Come to me! NOW!" he bellowed in desperation, spit flying from his lips. As the stallion trotted obediently toward him, Barnabas lunged and, gripping tightly around the animal's sleek neck, plunged sharp fangs deeply into a thick vein. After several long minutes, he withdrew and patted Dalmiir's withers. "Thank you, my loyal friend." The horse's head lovingly cuffed his master's shoulder in response.

Barnabas found her staring at the ceiling, watching as the flames cast beautiful designs on the dark surface high above her head. He knelt down beside her. She didn't acknowledge his presence.

"Kathleena?"

An onyx adorned finger stroked her cheek slowly turning her pale face to his. Barnabas frowned. She was delirious. Quickly, he stripped away her wet clothing. Only when she was completely nude, did he begin to realize the full depth of the attack she'd suffered. Her ribs were bruised beyond comprehension, covered with varying shades of purple, green and yellow. Slowly and very tenderly, large hands encompassed her sides and he was both surprised and relieved to find nothing broken. Below her left breast, the vampire spotted the unmistakable sign of a knife wound. He lowered his head and licked away the scar. Lifting his gaze, he found her staring at him, her bright eyes dim.

(Please.) Kathleena begged, stretching her arms out to him. (Please…)

Unable to help himself, Barnabas groaned with want.