Chapter 8

Hours later, Angelique held the notes in her hand.

She could not shake the feeling of guilt abut the way she had announced her theft to Julia. A cold, respective note, telling her that Julia trying to use Stokes' notes was a case of pearls before swine. She, Julia, could never use them properly.

It was not knowledge meant for mere mortals, she said. Stokes had died because of them.

But Megan was right. The more despondent Julia was the greater the likelihood that she would not be seen as a threat and would not be kidnapped.

And the angrier they were with her and Megan, the safer the two of them would be.

She wondered what was being done to Barnabas and the others. She remonstrated with herself for that. Worrying about them did not help. Acquiring knowledge would.

"What you mean, the notes disappeared?"

"Angelique took them. She left a note, telling us that she wanted them, and that we could not use them. That we were too dumb"

"She said that? She could not have meant it."

"She does." Julia sighed. "You do not remember what a bitch she used to be. You do not recall the damage she did as Cassandra."

'No worse than that damage that Barnabas did himself. I know her. She could not have said those things.

"She did. She used to be a nasty, cruel, vindictive person. She probably went back to that... We do not know what happened to her and Megan when they were away. She's thrown us over. She doest no care for us anymore."

"She would not abandon Barnabas."

"She's cured of that obsession. which means that she no longer cares what happens to him. Anymore than she cared for Sarah Collis. Or for Sam Evans. Or for any of her victims. I was there at the Dream Curse. I was there when she took David's voice away. I was there when she caused Eric Lang's heart attack. I was there when she had Elizabeth obsessing with Naomi and being buried alive.. know how nasty and cruel she can be. "

"I refuse to believe it."

Julia shrugged. "That's she way she is."

It was not right. Angelique thought, to inflict pain on people, specially people one cares about. People who call you their friend.

Yet hurt as they did, it was their only protection.

Megan stared at her, severely. Angelique better remember the dangers of breaking cover. Their enemy had to believe that they had won completely, and that they need to worry about some out of town sorceress and her vampire friend.

"Give me another." George told the bartender.

The bartender gave him a concerned look. He had been drinking too much. It was the first time he had seen him do that, and it frightened him.

"Give me another!" George demanded "I can pay for it."

"I can't do that." the man said, mildly.

"I order you to serve me another drink or I'll have you arrested."

The man shook his head.

"I am not drunk!"

"You need to go to sleep."

"Don't tell me what I need or don't need! I tell you what I need. I need some cooperation around me. But no one cares. No one will help. No one cares at all."

The bartender bit his lip nervously. He had seen it before, all those weepy drunks that began litanies on how ill-used they were by everybody, and how persecuted they felt. But he never imagined Brant.

"You don't care, either. You think that it is all right if Barnabas disappears and is never seen again. Maybe be you think that he deserves it. One less faggot to worry about."

"Why don't you go home? You should not be out like this."

George caught him by his collar and shook him. "Don't you go around telling me what I can or can't do. Not with your record. Did you think that you could keep it a secret from me? I know that you have done time and why... I can send you there again, if you don't give me another drink."

"Sheriff." the bartender pushed George's hands away. "You will go home now. and I will forget what was said here today. Do yourself a favor and don't make a scene.

"I will make a scene if I want to!"

Joe Haskell decided to intervene. He disliked seeing George like this. He took his arm. "Come George, let us go."

George pushed him away. "Who asked you?" he said irritably.

Why did they act like that? As if they did not care? Barnabas was missing. Others were missing, and they went on with their daily lives as if nothing had happened, as if they thought they would be spared themselves if they were willing to look the other way and forget those who were missing. Joe knew what the pain of it was. He had experienced it himself when Maggie was missing. But now, he could not care less. As long as he could pay his bills in time, he need not worry about anything else.

Joe came back to him. "I will take you home." he offered.

George threw a punch at him and missed. Joe delivered a karate chop which connected and dropped Brant to the floor.

"It is all right." Joe said to the bartender. "I am taking him so that he can get a good night's sleep. I don't think that he will remember any of it, or make trouble for anyone."

George woke up with a bad headache. And he did not wake up in his bed. Actually it was not a bed but a sofa in somebody's living room. He brought his eyes into focus. This was Tammy and Joe's living room. What was he doing here?

He had been in the bar, drinking and... something had happened. But he could not recall what. What had happened that had landed him on the couch in Tammy and Joe's house?

An aroma of hot coffee reached him. And warm bread. He got up and followed it, seeking for answers.

"So you are up." Joe said to him. "Do you want to join us?"

George shook his head. "What am I doing here?"

"You had one too many at the 'Blue Whale' last night. I brought you here."

George shook his head again. "I never drink to excess."

"You surely did, last night. Not only that, but got drunk and disorderly, and I had to knock you out to calm you down."

George rubbed the sore spot on the back of his neck. "You hit me? While I was uniform?"

"It was you who was drunk and threatening the bartender if he did not give you another drink."

"I did that?"

'Yes, you did."

"I understand that you were having a bad time." Tammy said, sympathetically. "Maybe that pushed you getting drunk."

He tried to deny it, but what was the use? "A bad time, that's a mild way of putting it. People are disappearing right and left, vanishing into thin air. No one knows what happens to them, no one cares. And the ones who care, Sebastian, Amy, Barnabas, they vanish too. And no one is willing to lift a finger to help. They would rather go on as if nothing was happening.

"But what can we do?" Joe asked.

'Yes, you have that excuse. Same as me. But Angelique does not have it."

"You asked her?'

"Yes, and she said that she could not be bothered, that she had better things to do than worry about insects like ourselves."

"And Megan? What does she say?" Tammy asked anxiously "She can't agree with that."

"She agrees. She does not care for us, not anymore."

"I can't believe it of her. She's..."

"A bitch, like Angelique. Face it, Tammy." Joe said. "I remember her well from 1968"

"Face it, Tammy" that was the code word that they used when they wanted to warn each other not to blow cover...

Joe thought that Megan was going undercover for this, and if that was the case, she would prefer that they helped her maintain it. She wanted all of them to think that she was cold and heartless, because that was her protection.

Of course, that might not be true. But Joe was right. If that was true, it was up to them not to blow her cover..