Chapter 9
Pacing the cave Barnabas growled, as edgy as a caged tiger. Kathleena hadn't said much of anything since he'd risen this evening. She'd simply remained beside the fire, staring into the flickering flames. Quiet, deep in thought, a myriad of unreadable expressions flitted across her lovely features. Her silence discomforted him but it also provided time needed to think. Why had he promised she would return safely to Vogel's manor? Why had he promised himself? If only he could erase her memory of what he was he would no longer need to worry. Suddenly Barnabas paused, a hand rubbing the black stubble of his chin. Could he possibly allow her to live knowing what she did? As soon as the thought was borne, he quickly dismissed it. No! Kathleena Tell was unfortunately a dire threat to his survival. As abhorrent as his cursed existence was he, as did every being, felt a deep-seated need for survival.
Kathleena rose. With head held high and bright eyes full of determination, she came to stand before him. Barnabas frowned as an impending sense of dread surged through him. Looking deeply into eyes the color of warm honey, she sighed. "You are wondering what to do with me, aren't you? You fear that should I be allowed to leave here alive, I will reveal your secret." Turning away she closed her eyes silently praying that the next words she uttered would sound callous and above all else, convincing. "It is true, Barnabas Collins! You will not be safe! If you allow me to live, I will tell! I will tell the first person I see!"
Enraged, large hands grabbed her shoulders, turning her, forcing her to look at him. "How dare you?!" he roared, trembling with a fury and hatred that was usually earmarked specifically for that loathsome bitch, Angelique. Cruel icy fingers encircled the slim column of her ivory throat. Although Barnabas was nearly beside himself with rage, a spark of something he himself did not understand restrained him, stopped him from strangling her when every fiber in his being longed to crush the life from her eyes, to destroy her for jeopardizing his existence. Suddenly he froze, riveted by the single tear slipping from beneath long lashes. He suddenly understood and his glare quickly gentled. Time stood still as she waited for the vampire to execute her.
"Why?" he whispered.
A sob of incredible despair tore from her throat at his query. Hoping Barnabas would kill her outright without thinking, Kathleena shouted, angry at the failure of her plan. "Must you even ask? I've told you of Duncan! Of Angelique! What have I to live for if I should leave here? Nothing!" She pulled away then. "Do you know I'd always resented it when someone, anyone had shown me even the slightest amount of pity towards my situation. And now, I cannot help but pity myself!" Kathleena turned to him, almost defiantly. "I cannot... no; I will not be forced to marry that vile bastard!"
Barnabas cringed at the look of hopelessness in her frightened eyes. Why did she move him so? Was there some twist of fate thrusting them together? He'd remembered the odd sensation he'd felt the instant he saw her at the inn in the village. No! She was not Josette. He felt sympathy for her. Nothing more! Damn it!
Placing a small hand on the sleeve of his suit, Kathleena winced as she stared up into the depths of his powerful gaze. "Barnabas. Please. Don't you see? You must kill me." She said the words calmly and clearly; not a bit of a waver in her voice. Taking one of his cold hands between hers, she clutched it frantically. "I will not fight you nor will I cry out. I only ask that you do it as quickly and as painlessly as you can. Duncan will not be so merciful should I die by his hand. I cannot face what lies in store and I am too much a coward to take my own life. Angelique has plans for me. Nefarious plans, else why would she refuse to release me from this arrangement made with my mother so long ago? You know well what she is capable of as do I. Please," she begged, desperately now. "I will be free and you need never fear that I will expose you." As though he were apart from himself, Barnabas watched her lift his large hand, splaying his long fingers around the column of her throat..
Yes. It would be so easy to snap her delicate bones. She would be dead in an instant, her pain over. It would be an act of mercy. An act of necessity... An act to ensure his survival! he told himself. Feeling her strong pulse leap beneath his fingertips, he growled. Yes! What I need to survive! Unable to resist the overwhelming urge to taste her again, Barnabas slammed against her, pinning her firmly to the hard craggy wall of the cave. For a brief instant, before the need for blood completely consumed him, he sensed a sudden thrill of excitement flow and crash over her as he lifted her effortlessly to the coldness of his lips, his sharp fangs plunging deeply into her soft warm flesh. Uttering a wild cry, Kathleena arched up into him, into his mouth. She felt his need, his hunger... his hunger for her.
Barnabas trembled at her reaction as hot blood, thick and sweet, gushed down his throat, filling him. Sustaining him. Never before had one offered themself so freely to his cravings. Not since his beloved Josette had he felt so coveted. No! he flinched. With a start, dark eyes flew open at the sudden realization that, for the first time in a very long while his first conscious thought upon awakening this evening was not of his lost love, but of she! Of Kathleena!
With a hiss of instant betrayal he tore himself away. What am I doing? I should not be feeling this way! Dazed, Kathleena collapsed weakly onto a large boulder watching as he paced about heatedly. "Come," he ordered brusquely holding out his hand. Remarking the harshness in his own voice, Barnabas strained to calm his emotions. None of this was her fault, he reminded himself. She was not responsible for his anger, his… infidelity. Gently, he called to her again his voice now warm and deep. "You are hurt. Come, I will help you."
Looking down at herself, Kathleena shuddered at the blood streaming down her chest and leeching into the cream colored bodice of her gown. Although Barnabas had hurt her, she did not fear him for she knew the reason for his peculiar actions. She could feel his unbelievable sorrow as if it was her own. "I know how much you long for her," she whispered. "How much you love her still despite the years that separate you." Pulling her tightly against the hard wall of his chest he said nothing, merely dipped his mouth to her throat removing the injury that he'd caused. Kathleena trembled and he immediately pulled away with a frown striding to the cave's rocky entrance. Staring up at the night's clear sky, his eyes then drifted to Dalmiir, an unreadable expression pasted on his handsome face.
Finally, Barnabas shook his head. "Come." His deep voice was tinged with remorse. "I am certain Miss Benjamin is beside herself with worry." Stunned, Kathleena opened her mouth only to quickly snap it shut again, the dark cautionary scowl he gave her halted all further thoughts of comment. Covering her quaking shoulders with his inverness cloak, he clutched her tiny waist and quickly lifted her onto his stallion's broad back. "Dalmiir… Follow."
Leading the way, the vampire's brow creased in thought. She had willingly offered herself for the slaughter. Why had he not killed her? The question swirled wildly in his mind. A question seemingly devoid of a solution. Suddenly something she'd said earlier dominated all other thoughts. Indeed, what were the witch's plans for her? Surely this Fasette was but one vicious pawn in Angelique's evil scheme. Casting a backwards glance, Barnabas sighed. Although Kathleena valiantly strained to stay upright, her exhausted body was listing over the horse's long neck. Damn it! He didn't want to ride with her. To have to hold her, to feel her soft warm body pressed against his for, despite his dark thoughts of unfaithfulness, he still wanted her, still lusted for her. Yet he knew it was unavoidable unless he wished to watch her tumble from the animal.
"Dalmiir…hold." Digging a heel into the horse's muscular thigh, Barnabas settled behind her, large hands resting on slim hips. Able to experience his palpable tension, Kathleena tried to pull away. "Rest," he ordered tersely gathering her in his cold embrace. Hesitantly she leaned against him. Her chestnut hair, wafted by the sudden breeze, caressed his jaw. Burrowing her head into the hollow of his throat, Kathleena slowly began to relax finding a semblance of comfort in the noises there. The heat of her smooth cheek penetrated the thin linen of his shirt. He heard her soft breath even into sleep, felt it puff against his neck gentle and warm.
Closing his eyes and offering up a silent plea, Barnabas rapped Dalmiir's sleek sides urging him into a fervent gallop. The sooner he returned her to Vogel's manor, the better for them both. Or so he hoped.
Page found Tierra standing on the balcony staring up at the night's sky, shivering. Slipping his warm cloak over her shoulders he gathered her tightly against his chest, nuzzling her blonde head with his nose. "Dearest, please come inside. You must busy your mind with something else or you will make yourself sick with worry. Collins will return her safely." He frowned at the look of utter dejection in her watery gaze.
"Page you don't know that! In fact, you know nothing about the man!" Tierra's splintering voice told him she was nearing hysteria. "It's been four days. Four! Where the devil is she?" Choking back a sob she keened, "Dear God, she's dead. I know it! Whatever problems she'd faced in France have followed her here. Someone has murdered her!"
Page bent down and gently kissed her quivering lips. "No Tierra," he said vehemently, shaking his head. He vowed to draw her out of this deep depression. "Kathleena is well. You must say that over and over again. She is well!" Suddenly the doors burst open and James ran in, more energetic then he had been in years. The couple stared at the old man, hardly daring to hope. Page lifted an arched brow. "Kathleena…?"
"Yes Master Vogel," the butler nodded with a smile. "Miss Kathleena is safe. Mr. Collins has taken her up to her room."
Uttering a squeal of delight, Tierra sprinted up the winding stairway and flung open the door. Barnabas sat in a wing chair beside the bed rubbing his jaw in thought as he stared at Kathleena tucked warmly under the counterpane. Coming to his side, she gasped. "My God, she looks so ashen."
Barnabas could see the worry etched into the young woman's pretty features, could hear the helplessness in her trembling voice. Hoping to sooth her anxiety, he smiled. "She is simply exhausted."
"You're certain?"
"Yes."
Tierra gently place a delicate hand on his broad shoulder. "Words cannot say how much I truly appreciate all you've done, Mr. Collins. Page was so confident that you would return her safe and sound."
At the clear tone of uncertainty in her harried voice Barnabas chuckled, powerless to resist. "And you, Miss Benjamin? Did you doubt my abilities to find your friend?"
Ashamed to admit it, she turned away. "You were gone for so long and anything-" Realizing silence was the better part of valor at the moment, Tierra decided to change Kathleena into a clean peignoir. Lowering the cover from the woman's still body she gulped in horror. "Dear God…the blood! So much blood!"
"No!" Barnabas growled. Forgotten was the blood that had drained unchecked from her throat after his feed. Quickly clutching the woman's arm, he tore her away from the bed. "You will look at me," he said forcefully. "Look!"
How dare he touch her?! Aghast, Tierra glowered up at the handsome Englishman. Her fuming expression instantly faded and a warm flush quickly flowed over her as she gazed dumb struck into shadowy eyes. Eyes that seemed to penetrate. To reach down deep inside of her and embrace her very soul.
"She is tired, that is all. Simply tired." Barnabas' soothing voice and strong will gently subverted her mind. Placing a hand under her chin, his piercing gaze intensified. "You have had a very pleasant conversation with your friend but you will remember nothing of the blood. Do you understand?"
Slowly she nodded and murmured, "Yes, I understand."
"Good. You may return only when you sense that I have gone. You will remember nothing." Lowering his hand, he commanded, "Now, leave this room."
Returning to the chair beside her, Barnabas found himself gazing into startled blue eyes. Kathleena had obviously seen and heard everything. "She is fine," he assured her, casting her an unreadable look.
She stared at him. (What have you done to her?)
It was Barnabas' turn to stare. He frowned, confused. Why wasn't she speaking aloud?
"Kathleena…?"
Quickly she placed a warning finger to her lips. (Tierra and Page... They mustn't know that I am able to speak. No one must know.)
"But why? I don't—"
(Duncan. He has spies everywhere. He will punish me.) Kathleena trembled at the thought. (I must be cautious.)
Settling himself on the edge of the bed, Barnabas whispered softly, "Do you think he doesn't know? Angelique has undoubtedly told him everything." He knew his words would hurt her but he also wanted to make certain that she was aware of the possibility. Should Duncan know of the situation; she should be prepared.
Kathleena brushed away an errant tear and nodded. (It exhausts me constantly wondering what he will do when…) Her gaze fixated on his. (Barnabas, why didn't you take my life?)
Barnabas frowned. Despite having searched for the reason hard and long, so long that his head pulsed with the thought, an answer had never materialized. "I don't know. Truly Kathleena, I don't know." Sighing, he focused on the large gold and onyx ring on his forefinger. "It would have been better for both of us had I done so."
Several long moments of silence stretched out between them, each absorbed with their own dizzying thoughts. Finally, Kathleena whispered aloud, the unexpected sound like a gunshot in the quiet room, "Do you now believe that I will not betray your secret? That I am no longer a threat to your existence?"
He looked into her eyes. "You must understand. Only two people had known of my curse and lived," he replied. "Ben Stokes, a faithful servant and my father. Anyone else…"
Kathleena looked up at the incredible sorrow in his sable eyes. "Barnabas," she whispered, choking on a sob that matched his pain. "I do understand. I feel your grief for it is now my own." Seeking only to offer comfort, she lifted a slim hand and brushed a stray curl of hair from his brow. The simple act triggered such a forceful wave of lust in him that she gasped and he swiftly rose from the bed.
"I must leave," he said simply.
She nodded. Yes, he was leaving. Back to New England. To Collinwood. Kathleena experienced the ardent emotions crashing over him; overwhelming him. She could feel his manic hatred for the witch. The incredible shame of his betrayal to the memory of his beloved. And, most of all, the burning desire he suffered for her, Kathleena herself. Remarkably she was no longer capable of feeling his distrust of her, his uncertainty that she would expose him. Barnabas finally seemed to believe in her and for that she was deeply grateful.
Slipping from the bed, she came to him then; to say goodbye. "Merci, Barnabas. You've removed my scars. You've returned my voice. You have made my life more— tolerable." Suddenly her voice faltered as a grave expression touched her loveliness. "I will never divulge what I have come to know about you, of this I solemnly vow." Seeing nothing but utter sincerity in her beautiful eyes, the vampire slowly lowered his icy lips to her warm mouth wanting to enjoy the flavor of her for the last time. In that instant, Kathleena happily remembered those intimate moments spent in his embrace at the cave. Recalling every experienced stroke of his large hands, every tantalizing touch of his cold mouth and lips and tongue. Mon Dieu, the things he did to her. The wonderful way he made her feel, as if she was someone incredibly dear to him. She still yearned for him desperately. For one final moment of ultimate pleasure at his touch. To feel his dead body seize hers with a fierce possessiveness she'd yet to discover. Suddenly she froze with an unexpected insight. Making love would be a colossal error on Barnabas' part for he clung to the memory of his former fiancée much too tenaciously, her perceptive heart told her as it tightened painfully with the knowledge. It would only strengthen his feelings of betrayal. And were Duncan to reali—Dear God!
With a strangled cry, Kathleena forced herself to turn away. "Adieu, Barnabas."