Archive of Our Own

Chapter Text

Suicide by Demon

Meaningless days and nights seize me,
Through all the hopeless years
Of moons and stars and chastity,
Angry laughing madness, desolate screaming tears.

Silence, stillness and waiting
My heart cried, rip me, shred me, take me
Precious demon, love me, leave me bleeding
Wrap me in death’s ecstasy.

And the ghosts rattle and whisper, I sigh
Kind specters, hear my desperate prayer
Conjure an incubus, a vampire, a dark lover
Let him erase lonely endless nights.

Bring me suicide by demon,
Murder this bereft virgin entity.
Hell’s fire so preferable to icy isolation
The only solution to this unrequited agony.

Purgatory specters murmur ‘this we must’
Seductive words, sharp teeth, pulsing blood washed sin
Arms enfold, hands hold, lips taste succulent lust
My demon lover whispers in my dying ear,

“Eternal beloved, alone never again.” - Abigail Deacon

Tuesday, November 9, 1972

He haunts me. He’s my existential crisis. My torture, my pain, the reason I can't let go. My personal demon who continually torments me. I often think, “I should have let him kill me when I had the chance”. I can't forget, much as I try. I want some drug that would simply obliterate the memory of his warm hands on my skin. Maybe I have no right to feel the way I do.

I’m angry that he’s in my life at every turn and then he’s gone. He has to be with that enigmatic “her”. There’s no other explanation for him disappearing early and staying gone till late. I imagine him in some alien bedroom and the thought sends me into desire and despair. I’ve faced this so many times and it just doesn’t get any easier. This unrequited love I feel for him is eating me like a cancer.

This is the first time he’s been away from me in weeks and I’m too distracted to concentrate on my work. I’ve decided to bring this journal to date from almost two months ago. I simply haven’t had the time or inclination until today to sit and write. So, here goes, maybe I can get through it. At least, it will take my mind off him for a while.

As I sit by the window, the cold leeches through the glass on this dark and windy day. I worry about Willie driving into Portland for medical supplies. My stock had been completely obliterated during the latest illnesses at Collinwood and the Old House. I could have ordered what I needed from the pharmacy in Collinsport but too many questions would have arisen.

It all began with a fever that spread after Adam visited. He’d been traveling in Egypt before he came home. Adam, as much an enigma as Barnabas, a dead man who came to life and made something supernatural into something human. And the few people who know their secrets don’t care about what they were. They only care about who they are.

Adam is highly successful dealing in imports and exports these days. He had all his scars removed and it's hard to tell if he ever looked any other way than he does. He is a handsome man. I know he had hopes of igniting his and Carolyn’s relationship into a love affair. He realized his hopes for a closer relationship with her weren’t fated to happen after he and she spent several evenings together. They cemented a warm friendship. I can commiserate with him. I know how much one-sided love can hurt.

He and Barnabas spent several evenings together, also. Barnabas used the connection between them in hopes of ending any bad feeling Adam had toward him. I believe they parted cordially with a better understanding of each other. As to whether they could ever really be friends is doubtful.

Soon after he left, David became ill with an elevated temperature, chills, and delirium which I treated with antibiotics and palliative care. I quarantined Collinwood which nobody wanted, and everybody fretted over, Roger especially. But, even with the antibiotic, David didn't recover from the fever for thirty-six hours. His fever crested at 104 before it broke. He recovered, weak and a little dehydrated, but was his old self within a few days. Carolyn fell ill next with the same symptoms and duration of the illness. The progression of the illness spread throughout the house until all the family and Mrs. Johnson had become ill and recovered. Elizabeth had taken a long time to recover. I’d theorized her age slowed her recovery as well as a slight, secondary, kidney infection, most likely due to general dehydration before the fever.

I hadn't shown any symptoms during the spread of the disease at Collinwood. I think I’d become too busy trying to discover the exact nature of the illness to become ill myself. I ordered Mrs. Johnson to hire a cleaning crew to disinfect the living area of the massive house. This illness manages to live longer periods on solid surfaces than most. I thought the infection had run its course in the Collins family until Barnabas became ill.

I happened to be at the Old House working in my basement laboratory when I heard noise in the upstairs foyer. Willie yelled for me, and I ran upstairs. Barnabas had collapsed in the foyer, drenched and half frozen from the sudden Nor'easter that had blown ashore earlier in the evening. Maggie and Elizabeth tried to persuade him to stay at Collinwood, but he thought he could make it home before the storm broke. Maggie told me he insisted on leaving, saying he didn’t feel well and wanted to be home. He left around 8:30 in the evening and must have become confused in the forest while making the short trip. He didn’t arrive at the Old House until well after 9:00. Somehow, he had contracted the fever despite all my efforts to eradicate it at Collinwood.

Willie helped me remove his soaked coat and we helped him upstairs to his room. Earlier in the year, Barnabas had Willie install a plumbing system with bathrooms and a boiler in the ancient house. I had Willie run a warm bath and help him remove his drenched clothing.

Since he had been released from his curse, he complained of feeling cold. He kept fires burning and took a hot bath in the evenings to help him warm enough to sleep at night. He couldn't explain it, coldness had never bothered him. He exhibited signs of aging, and I thought this sensitivity to cold may be part of this syndrome. Gray streaked his dark hair at his temples, and he began using reading glasses. I knew his longevity most likely had something to do with this aging. I feared he would age rapidly with each passing year until he died a natural death.

I hadn’t talked to him about my suspicions. Unknown to him, I worked on a treatment to slow the aging process and bring his body in balance with a normal metabolism. I calculated at the rate he appeared to age, he would be a very old man within seven to ten years and could die of any human health complication during that time. This fever concerned me. To ease my worry, I rationalized he's a strong man and hadn't shown any health issues before this illness, not even a cold.

Willie helped him into the bath and stayed with him until he felt warm enough to dress for bed. He’d moved into the master bedroom which had the largest fireplace and held heat better than the rest of the house. He wore his heavy robe when he got into bed, said good night in his usual polite manner and fell into a near immediate sleep. Simply touching his forehead told me his fever had to be one hundred or more. Willy fetched my medical bag and I prepared myself to stay with him. I fished my thermometer from my bag and managed to get him to lie still long enough to take his temperature, it hovered around 103. He woke shivering less than an hour later and asked for more blankets from a cedar chest at the foot of the bed. He didn't ask me for them but his mother, Naomi Collins.

Delirious, he rambled in whispers to his mother, asking her if she remembered. I pieced together a little of his early story from his delirium. He talked about his little sister, Sarah. He spoke of horseback riding with his Uncle Jeremiah, sitting Sarah on her pony and leading her around the stable yard. He revealed beloved memories of his mother sitting on the front portico reading stories to them and sailing on the bay with friends. He painted an image of sunlit summer days, lounging in the shade of the large trees that grew on the estate and galloping through the lanes to Collinsport. A sad glimpse of his cherished halcyon days.

He said faintly, "My head hurts."

I went to the bathroom and made another cool compress from a hand towel and returned to his side, placing it on his forehead. I prepared an injection of antibiotics and told him what I was giving him but, by that time, he'd fallen asleep. I waited about thirty minutes and took his temperature again, no change, which puzzled me. His temperature should have come down by a few points, at least. I thought about cases of high fever and the resulting tragedy of disability or death.

He began shivering again and tugged the blankets to his neck. He became agitated, twisting under the blankets. He murmured "Josette" under his breath and groaned several times before he slept. I guessed he re-lived his beloved's death once more. He could never forgive himself for what he'd put her through, what he'd put Maggie through, and of course, Kitty and Rachel, Victoria, Roxanne and finally Angelique. Her name is supposed to mean ‘like an angel’. She was anything but angelic. Much too beautiful a name for an evil, twisted, completely cruel...I could find a hundred equally nasty words for her. But I restrain myself. I'm an expert at restraint.

At least Victoria had somewhat of a happy ending and Maggie had recovered. I imagined he couldn't see his loves any other way than as tragic loss. He realized he had missed that one true love his entire life and had caused so much pain and anguish to those he'd cherished the most. My heart ached for him as I watched him fall asleep. I wished he could have found lasting love and a measure of happiness like most people. As my eyes grew heavy, I wished he could have found that love and happiness with me.

Sometime around three in the morning, Willie shook me awake and told me he'd watch Barnabas so I could rest for a time. I checked his temperature and saw that it had edged down to 102. I explained to Willie, if Barnabas woke, to give him as much water as he could drink and come to me if he showed signs of distress.

The raging storm sounded like the turbulent waves of the sea pounded against the house. I trudged down the hall toward Josette's room but changed my mind. I went to my laboratory instead to work on medication for Barnabas. His blood structure, more unique and puzzling than any I’d encountered, had to be considered in developing medication for him. I started work. Before I realized it, Willie stood in the doorway with a questioning look in his eyes.

"How is he?" I asked as I stood and stretched my back.

"He seemed about the same, talked and mumbled a lot in his sleep. He didn't wake up one time." Willie said as he folded his arms, "You didn't get any rest, did you? “

I shook my head and stared at the floor, "I have to find a treatment for him."

"You know, Julia, he may just get well on his own. He ain't no weak little guy."

"No, he's not." I said as I slipped past him to go upstairs to check on my patient. "But he's not an ordinary man, either."

I climbed the stairs and noticed rain had blown under the front doors. The fire had died in the sitting room which rarely happened except in summer. Willie walked into the foyer with a mop and bucket. A pale, October light shown through the front windows. Winter would come soon. The worst time of the year for him, he hates the cold so much.

I heard Barnabas as I approached the doors to his room admonishing his father. "Why didn't you end me when you could? Do you know what kind of hell I'm in? Each waking moment a torment in this prison. An eternity in this prison. You've locked me in here to go insane. Let Me Out!!!" His hoarse screams reverberated through the room.

He kept screaming to let him out until I injected enough sedative into his system to calm him. I checked his temperature with shaking hands, 104.8. I gave him more antibiotics and yelled for Willie. I sent Willie into town for ice, as much ice as he could obtain and a large freezer chest. I feared I wouldn't be able to lower his temperature as I did the rest of his family with antibiotics and cold compresses. I took alcohol from my bag and soaked a cloth, wiped it on his burning forehead, throat and chest and fanned it dry more to sooth him than cool him. I did this several times until he calmed. I stripped most of the blankets from his bed and went to the bathroom and made cool compresses which I lay on his chest and forehead. I could see the artery in his neck beating rapidly and took his pulse. His pulse pounded in his fevered wrist. I wrapped a blood pressure cuff around his arm and took his pressure, it ranged to 200 over 140 which alarmed me. His skin had that high fevered tone that made it appear translucent and rosy. His dark eyes sparkled with the glassy shimmer of the very ill. He looked at me with the most tender gaze he'd ever offered me.

"I'm dreaming," he murmured, "I've seen you in my dreams, dear lady."

I gave him a shot of sodium nitroprusside to lower his blood pressure and prevent organ damage from such a rapid, high reading. He closed his eyes and slept fitfully, talking under his breath. I wondered who the lady could have been in his dreams. I thought about what he'd screamed before, to ‘let him out’. I imagined him, chained in that coffin for decades, waking after the sun had gone and just lying there, unable to move but fully conscious, buried and forgotten, famished, his mind and body inflamed with the need for blood. Nothing to give him comfort except his own thoughts and memories and dreams. How could he have stood it? No wonder the memory of that hellish prison drove his blood pressure so high.

His relief came when I time traveled to 1840 and set him free. Ben Stokes had saved me from him. His ferocity, like a cornered animal, when I released him terrified me. Later, he almost killed me, would have drained me of my blood and gone on hunting and killing until someone caught him. His doppelganger, the Barnabas I knew, saved me when he possessed his former body. I shook my head at the thought of it. This gentle man had been a cunning, savage predator at one time. That time seemed like decades ago even though I’ve only known him for a few years. We'd been through so much together as enemies, co-conspirators, friends, time travelers and companions. We shared secrets no one else knew. We'd lived lifetimes together in these past few years.

I enjoyed the past months of relative peace with no new horrors becoming known at Collinwood. Barnabas reveled in the peace, having upgrades done at home, reading new books, and visiting Bangor and Portland just to go to dinner or the theater. I heard his laughter more in these last months than the whole time I’d known him. I discovered he loved opera and spoke fluent Italian, French and Spanish. He understood Latin and Greek, explaining those ancient languages had been part of his education at an academy in his youth. He could be full of surprises, and I delighted in learning these small gems about him. He wanted to rebuild the dilapidated stables and purchase a horse or two to ride on the estate. He wanted to travel to Asia and revisit the places where, in the distant past, his family's shipping company had traveled and returned with all manner of exotic goods. He wanted to travel to Europe and see the great museums he'd read about in books.

I looked at his sleeping face and the gray in his hair as I took his pulse. His heart rate had slowed, and I took his blood pressure again. It had fallen to a safer level. I had to develop a treatment to slow the aging process for him so he could live his dreams without the frailty of old age. But first, I wanted to develop a treatment for this fever Adam had seemingly brought to us from the Mid-East. Maybe Adam held the key to Barnabas's illness. The two were still connected and I wondered if Adam suffered this sickness also. I had to find him. Professor Stokes undoubtedly knew how to locate him.

When Willie returned, I walked the soggy path to Collinwood to phone Professor Stokes. I didn't want him to come to the Old House for fear of infecting him with this mysterious fever. Our conversation was brief. He insisted on coming to us stating that he had been exposed to Adam and had not contracted the fever so far. I agreed. I walked back to the Old House after explaining the situation to Maggie and Elizabeth who were extremely concerned.

Maggie returned to Collinwood a week or so ago. Her marriage to Sebastian deteriorated and she felt the need to be among friends. Maggie seemed overly upset to me which flew the green flag of jealousy in my head. As I returned to the Old House, I sat on what I had grown to call my “crying rock” and cried a little. Here, among these giant trees, I felt safe enough to open my heart from time to time and let my jailed emotions free for a while.

Elliot Stokes arrived within the hour, sat in the sitting room, and sipped a glass of sherry as I told him of the events at Collinwood. As he stood before a now blazing fire and casually smoked a slender cigar, Elliot informed me, "Adam is staying in Cairo as far as I know but he had plans to move on as soon as his business finished there. I have a phone number for him, we always stay in touch wherever he goes. He wants to know about all the happenings at Collinwood. I think he feels the Collins family is the closest he will have to a family, and he loves Carolyn despite her feelings for him."

I heard footsteps pounding to the top of the stairs, Willie stood there panting. “Julia, get up here quick, there’s something really wrong!”

I ran upstairs, Elliot behind me, and into Barnabas’s room. He shook in the grip of a seizure. I had Willie fill Barnabas’s tub with cold water, dump the ice in and come back to help Elliot and myself move Barnabas into the tub. I rolled Barnabas on his side, stuffed a sheet the length of him underneath him and rolled him toward me to pull the sheet to the other side of him, creating an effective make-shift gurney. His flesh felt like a burning brand, his eyes unfocused and wild, not understanding what we were doing, as he clutched himself to stop the shaking.

Elliot flung his coat on a chair and rolled up his sleeves. Willie took hold of the sheet at Barnabas’s head and Elliot at his feet and carried him to the bathroom where I ordered them to carefully lower him into the ice water. He screamed, a hoarse sighing sound, and lost consciousness. I wet a hand towel in the icy water and laid it on his forehead. The seizure subsided by degrees, and he relaxed. He opened his eyes a little and I could see he understood what had happened. He shivered in the cold water, and I could tell by the color of his face that the fever lessened. I shook down my thermometer and held the back of his head to get him to open his mouth and let me take his temperature, 103.9.
“We’ll leave him here for a few more minutes or until he becomes too uncomfortable.” I said, grateful for the deep, claw foot tub he’d had installed instead of those modern, shallow things.

Elliot said in his way of comfort to us, “It is said God gives his toughest battles to his toughest soldiers”. I thought, "he has no idea the toughness of the battles Barnabas fought."

Willie nodded and I looked at the wan face of my patient, wondering if he’d survive this fever after all he’d lived through over the years.

+++

After Willie and Elliot lifted him from the bath, I had them lay him in front of the fire in the bedroom and asked Willie to get him out of his wet clothes. I turned my back as Willie undressed him.

Elliot chuckled as he observed me. “Surely, Doctor, you’re not unused to seeing male patients nude, now, are you?”

“Of course, I’m used to seeing my patients in all stages of undress, but it would embarrass him if he ever discovered I’d seen him nude. I couldn’t do that to him, make him so uncomfortable.” I said, looking down at the worn rug and crossing my arms. “I mean, he never even loosens his tie in front of anybody.”

Elliot nodded and said, “A modest man, old fashioned in this day and age. But I wouldn’t want to be undressed in the presence of a lady either unless she wanted such an unlikely thing.” He chuckled again and pulled another cigar from his pocket.

Willie dressed him in dry pajamas, and I made another make-shift gurney to carry him back to bed. I helped Willie sop up the water in the bathroom and pile all the wet things into a wicker basket kept there for laundry. Willie said he would go to the kitchen and make some broth for Barnabas and coffee for us. An ancient wood stove in the kitchen kept a fire all the time under Willie’s tending.

I felt Barnabas’s forehead, still hot but not like it had been. He opened his eyes and managed a weak smile. “You are my savior,” he whispered as he took my hand from his forehead and pressed it against his heart. It beat a little faster than normal. A strange thrill ran through me. This intimate gesture confused me. He closed his eyes and sighed contently, his hand over mine on his chest.

Willie returned bearing a tray. I woke Barnabas enough to take a few mouthfuls of broth. He drank it more to ease thirst than hunger and asked for water. Gladness that he drank something and didn’t fuss over it encouraged me. He would need fluids when the fever broke. He settled into his pillows, and I covered him with a light comforter without blankets hoping he would stay cool a while.

Elliot, Willie and I sat together drinking our coffee before the fire and I realized I hadn’t eaten since before Barnabas came home last night. I said, “Willie, I’m hungry...”

He held up a finger, interrupting me, and said, “I’ll be right back.”

Elliot and I talked. I said, “If Adam is suffering from this fever, which I believe he very well may be, then he is in a treacherous position.” I observed as I sipped my coffee.

“You realize, Doctor, that you know more about Adam’s and Barnabas’s connection than I do. All I really know is that there is some connection and I have my suspicions as to how all that came about after I met Adam. I know Adam is the result of an experiment, a creation, made by Dr. Eric Lang, but that’s all I know. What is Barnabas’s involvement with all this?”

I hesitated, why not tell him? But then, I’d have to reveal Barnabas’s past vampirism to him. I said, “I can explain very little. You realize as his physician, I can’t betray the trust given me.” I sounded evasive.

“I understand your position as his doctor, but I have my suspicions. At least tell me if I’m close in my supposition. I believe Barnabas gave Adam something of himself, a part of his life’s vital essence. I know Dr. Lang treated Barnabas in the hospital after his accident for what seemed an overly long time. You see, I have friends who are doctors there and they keep me very well apprised of all the goings on, especially of friends and acquaintances. Why Barnabas agreed to help Dr. Lang is the mystery to me and what you must be entrusted to protect.” He said as Willie set a steaming bowl of chicken soup in front of me. Willie gave me that knowing glance friends give when they share secrets. Over the years, I had come to rely upon Willie’s inner core of strength which always came to the fore even when he shook with fear.

“Made it myself.” Willie smiled proudly and stood like an expectant waiter.

I tasted it, thought it delicious and told Willie so.

“Would you want some too, Professor?” Willie asked looking into Elliot’s upturned face. I smiled slightly at Willie’s tact. He knew our guest’s taste. Elliot wouldn’t want anything as common as homemade soup.

“No, thank you. I must be going home soon. I have an appointment to keep later this evening.” Elliot said as he watched me spooning soup into my mouth in an obvious effort to avoid talking to him. “Well, then. I will take my leave and give Adam a call when it’s daylight on his side of the world. I’ll let you know something tomorrow, Julia.” With that, he rose and walked to Barnabas's bedside. Barnabas didn’t stir from his sound sleep.

“I hope he has made the turn and will be better by tomorrow.” I heard sincerity in Elliot’s voice, not the usual sardonic edge he normally used when referring to Barnabas. “I am not the harsh judge you think I am, Julia. When he is well again, and I believe he will be under your ministrations, we three must talk.”

Elliot left and I listened to his step as he made his way downstairs. Willie followed him to lock the doors.

I pulled my chair to the bed and finished the last of my coffee. Barnabas rested at last, no rambling or incoherent speech, only quiet, even breathing. I leaned back and fell asleep the minute I closed my eyes.

I woke sometime after dark; the fire had died down, so I laid more wood on the embers and raked ashes to the front of the hearth. The fire crackled and snapped sending sparks up the chimney. I went to his bedside and lit the kerosene lamp that stood on a nightstand well out of Barnabas’s reach while he suffered from this fever. I didn’t know if he would thrash about and knock it to the floor. He opened his eyes and looked at me.

“How are you?” I asked.

“Tired, thirsty.” He whispered. I poured a glass of water from a large pitcher Willie had brought and handed it to him. He drank all of it and asked for more.
I propped pillows behind him. He laid back into the pillows with a sigh and said, “I’m so sore.”

“It’s the fever, it’ll make you feel sore. Have you never had a fever?”

He shook his head, “I have, but not like this. In my youth high fever meant death most of the time. We did all we could to stay healthy. The last thing I would have wanted was to be bled.” He chucked a little at his own grim joke.

I smiled as I shook down my thermometer and slid it under his tongue. I said, “Let’s see how you are doing.”

He closed his eyes and pulled the comforter over his shoulders. “Cold.” He said around the thermometer.

I looked at the thermometer, 103. “Your fever is still on the high side. I’ve been giving you antibiotics. You’ve been extremely sick.” I said as I returned the thermometer to its holder. I coaxed, “Would you like something to eat? Willie made chicken soup. It’s particularly good.”

He mused, “I dreamed I was in a small boat floating down a river when it overturned, and I found myself flailing in icy water. I managed to swim to shore but all my clothes were gone.” He grinned and chuckled. I thought he manifested an incredibly good mood for someone who had been as ill as he’d been. My other patients were grumpy and uncomfortable.

“We had to give you an ice water bath. You had a febrile seizure. Then Willie had to get you undressed and into dry pajamas.”

“No need to explain.” His gaze conveyed a quizzical, tender quality as if he didn’t know which way to feel at that moment. “Sit down.” He patted the bed next to him. "Tell me how you’ve been through this.”

I shrugged and looked down, not wanting him to see how worried I’d been. “You know, concerned about you, working on medication for you, wondering if Adam is as ill as you’ve been, just generally thinking about…you.” I sighed and looked at his face.

He tilted his head to one side, but I couldn’t look into those dark eyes, so I focused on his mouth. His eyes conveyed so much of what he felt and sometimes I couldn’t meet the intensity of his gaze. He may not have the hypnotic powers he once had but his gaze could still draw me until I felt lost in those black pupils. I could see how so many women fell under his spell when he could use those powers.

“I’ll have some soup. It’s supposed to be curative; I’ve heard.” He said as he leaned his head back against his pillows. I patted his leg and went downstairs to see if Willie had any soup left. Back in his room, I sat the tray across his lap and watched him as he unfolded his napkin and laid it across his chest. He ate slowly and seemed to relish his meal.
“I’ll have to compliment Willie on his cooking, that was what I needed.” He said when he finished eating and laid his napkin on the tray.

I sat the tray in the seat of my chair. I laid my hand on his forehead; he seemed warmer but that could have been from the hot meal. He didn’t shiver with fever and kept the comforter around his waist.

He said, “Why don’t you get some rest? I know you must be tired after tending to me.”

“I’m going to stay with you until Willie wakes up and then I’m going to my lab to work on medication for you. And for that, I need a little donation.” I said as I prepared my syringe.

He groaned a little. “Oh, I hate this.” He muttered as he pulled up his sleeve.

“Why do you hate this so?” I asked as I wrapped a length of rubber tubing around his upper arm and rubbed the pit of his elbow with an alcohol-soaked cotton ball.

He said ruefully, “It’s mine and I don’t want anyone else to have it.” He winced as I stuck the needle into a vein, drew deep, crimson blood into the barrel of the syringe and pulled the tubing off his arm.

“That should be enough for now.” I pressed a cotton ball against the vein and folded his arm, so his hand rested on his shoulder. “And now, for another injection of antibiotic. That goes in your upper arm.” I motioned for him to bare his shoulder.

He unbuttoned his pajama shirt with one hand and pulled the fabric away from his shoulder. I gave him another injection and checked his temperature, 103.4. His fever crept upward once again, and I knew we might be in for another long night if the antibiotic failed to keep the fever at bay. I needed to take his blood sample to my lab where I had a small refrigerator. He’d been gracious and had a power line installed for my lab.

“I’ll be right back; I just need to get this downstairs.” I said as I turned to leave the room. I felt his gaze follow me as I left. A curious sensation ran through me, and I thought how peculiar his behavior had been toward me lately. I had caught him a few times looking at me from over a book, when someone else spoke for any length of time, at dinner, and various odd times. I imagined I felt his gaze whenever we were together; although, he looked away whenever I noticed. When he talked with me, he gazed directly into my eyes as if trying to learn the answer to a question he wanted answered but couldn’t ask for whatever reason. Maybe my imagination wanted to see what wasn’t there. An interest that didn’t exist.

“I think I could sleep now.” He said when I returned. I removed the extra pillows so he could make himself comfortable. He rolled onto his side facing me. I placed the tray on the floor and sat in the armchair to rest my head.

He watched me for a few seconds and said, “Look under my bed and pull out something that looks like a drawer.” I did as he said and found an old-fashioned trundle bed complete with mattress and bedding, all clean and in good condition. “Lay down there and sleep. If I need you, I’ll wake you.”

Grateful, I laid down, snuggled into the soft mattress, and fell asleep with no dreams.

Sometime later, I felt a gentle shaking on my shoulder and heard Willie quietly calling my name. I woke not knowing where I was for a moment, a blanket from the bed lay over me as well as the quilt I’d covered myself with when I laid down. Willie helped me up and stared at the trundle bed.

“That’s a handy thing. I’d completely forgotten about it.” He said in quiet tones as he smoothed my quilt and blanket and pushed it under Barnabas’s bed with the least amount of noise that he could.

“How long have I been sleeping?”

“I came in to clear up the trays, wet laundry, and saw you sleeping in that little bed, I didn’t want to wake you then, you need the rest, or you’ll get sick too, Julia. That’s important, you know, that you stay well. I might get sick and who’ll take care of me and Barnabas if you’re sick?” Willie whispered in his nervous way.

I nodded and asked, “What time is it?”

“It’s close to dawn.”

“I need to check on him,” I said and went to Barnabas’s side. He slept almost on his stomach, his arm cradling an extra pillow. I gently rolled him toward me. He groaned as I moved him. His skin burned and I knew without checking his temperature that his fever had risen.

“Willie, you’d better go back to town and get more ice today.” I said as I shook down my thermometer and checked Barnabas’s temperature. Willie waited until I could get a reading, 104 and his pulse beat rapidly but within normal range.

Willie said, “I’ll go to the Blue Whale again, Bob’s got an ice machine and said I could get all I wanted.” He went into the bathroom and brought out the ice chest.
I always marveled at Willie. He had the facade of a simple man but the ingenious things he could accomplish with a little effort amazed everyone.

Barnabas opened his eyes when Willie left and clasped my hand when I laid it on the bed to steady myself as I reached for my bag.

“Did you sleep?” he asked, turning those burning eyes to me, and gently grasping my hand.

I nodded, “Thank you, I did.”

“Did you dream?”

I shook my head, “I think I was too tired to dream.”

“I dreamed last night.” He said and closed his eyes, “I dreamed of when I was chained in that coffin. The past, the present and the future passed before my eyes in that thick darkness. Sometimes I felt as if I floated in some vast, black ocean. I saw all manner of sights and sounds. Those dreams were the one saving experience that kept me sane in that prison.”

He opened his eyes and looked at me so sincerely, “I dreamed of you.”

“What?” I asked, confused.

“I didn’t remember those dreams for a very long time, I didn’t want to remember them. They caused me great pain, the blood lust, the guilt and remorse, anguish over my deeds. Then, I envisioned the sun, I saw people in my life who were important to me, people I loved so very much but I knew they couldn’t love me. The curse laid on me felt like a heavy chain. You, you were always there, somehow, with me through everything.” He lowered his eyes, as if he didn’t want me to see his soul as he bared it to me a little, at last.

“Barnabas.” I said calmly, “What you experienced is called sensory deprivation. People who experience this have visions sometimes like you describe.”

“That may be true, but would a random vision show me family I’d never met or my dearest friend?” I frowned as I tried to understand. “It’s true, you are in my life for so many reasons and I simply want you to know how very ...grateful... I am.” He swallowed. “Could I have some water, please?”

His nervousness told me he couldn’t find words for what he really wanted to say. He drank his water and lay back.

I said, “At least you’re more coherent today, last night you were delirious most the time.” I prepared another antibiotic shot for him. I decided to increase the dose and give him something for the soreness he felt. His eyes followed me the whole time I moved and when I glanced at him for a second, I could see his preoccupation.

“What’s bothering you?” I asked as I gave him a pain reliever and a glass of water.

“Nothing.” He looked away and began unbuttoning his pajama shirt so I could give him the injection. He pulled the shirt off his upper arm and chest and that’s when I noticed the spotty, red patches on his skin.

“Barnabas, let me look at you.” I finished unbuttoning his shirt and saw a rash had erupted on his torso. I helped him sit and examined his back and arms. The rash hadn’t erupted on these areas of his body.

I sighed, “Oh no, I’m afraid I can’t give you anymore antibiotics right now, you may be allergic to it, or it could be a result of the fever. I’ll have to run tests and see. I’ll stay with you until Willie returns and then I’m going to my lab to work. Maybe I can at least discover what’s causing this rash.”

I took a small scraping with a scalpel from one of the larger spots and placed the skin cells on a slide I kept in my bag for purposes like this. He lay still as I buttoned his shirt; I couldn’t look at his face. I could feel his gaze. When I did look at him, his intense eyes conveyed the still wonder of a child seeing something for the first time. I blushed and quickly stood.

He grabbed my hand and said, “I’m sorry,” He glanced away, “I’ve not been cared for in such a way for a long time. I suppose I’m amazed by modern medicine.” He cleared his throat a little and said, “In my youth, women didn’t provide this type of medical care to men unless they were relatives so you can understand how I might find your treatment of me a little foreign.” He slid my hand out of his.

I swallowed my embarrassment and helped him sit. He carefully swung his sore legs over the side of the bed. He said, “The pain medication is working, I think. I feel like I can make it to the bathroom.”

I helped him to his feet and put my arm around his waist to support him, “I’ve treated you before if you’ll remember.”

“Not like this, you haven’t.”

“If it makes you uncomfortable...”

“No, not uncomfortable, just a little...overwhelmed.” He said as he stepped inside the bathroom door. “I can manage from here.” He smiled slightly as he closed the door.

I sat in a chair by the door and waited for him. I considered what I could do for him if he had an allergy to penicillin and I thought about his odd behavior toward me. How he watched me and hid his gaze when I looked toward him. Something bothered him and he wouldn’t talk about it, so typical of him.

He emerged from the bathroom, and I noticed he’d shaved the light stubble of his beard, and I smelled toothpaste and aftershave.

“I feel better now. But I need to rest a little.” He said as I helped him back into bed. “Thank you, Julia. I’ll be fine, now.”

“Could you eat something?” I offered.

“No, I’m going to sleep for a while. Why don’t you go to your lab? I know you’re anxious to get to work.”

I patted his leg and left the door open so I could hear him if he needed me and walked downstairs. Someone knocked on the front door and I answered it. Elliot stood there in the early morning light.

“Hello, Doctor. I must apologize for the early hour.” He said as he removed his coat and hung it on the rack in the foyer. “I talked to Adam and his doctor. He has been ill, extremely ill with a fever common to the Mideast. It seems the penicillin his own doctor gave him was tainted somehow which caused it not to have the palliative effect it should have and made him have a rash from the fever.”

I nodded. “Yes, Barnabas has a rash also. Maybe I can continue his treatment with penicillin, he seems better this morning.”

“Yes, so does Adam. But his doctor told me this is the calm before the storm, so to speak. The fever will rise quickly and, unless it’s kept down, it could kill the patient. Adam’s doctor knows how to do this, and I strongly suggest you call and speak to him so he can explain what to do.” He handed me his card with a phone number written on the back.

“Good. I’ll go to Collinwood and call. Do you think I can call him at this time?” I asked as I tucked the card in my pocket.

“It’s close to midnight there but you can call, he will be with Adam waiting for the crisis to come.”

“Could you stay with Barnabas until Willie, or I get back? I don’t like to ask knowing you’re busy.”

“No, I don’t mind at all.” He smiled and looked upstairs, “Maybe our esteemed Mr. Collins and I can talk about a few things that puzzle me.”

“Don’t upset him or wear him out, Elliot. Remember he’s very ill right now. And besides, he hates being questioned about personal matters of any kind. He won’t answer you.”

Elliot smiled and ascended the stairs ahead of me as I went to check on my patient before I left for Collinwood. Barnabas slept with his head back, propped on a mass of pillows as I’d left him. His face was peaceful. I checked his temperature and pulse, no change.

“Good, that means Adam is resting well right now too.” Elliot said as he sat in the armchair and unwrapped another one of his signature cigars.

I hurried to Collinwood and met Elizabeth in the hall. “How is he?” she asked, worry lines creasing her brow.

“Right now, he’s resting. Elliot Stokes is sitting with him until I return. I must make an overseas call to a doctor there who has experience with this strain of fever. Your family had a relatively mild version of the strain, but Barnabas is very ill. I’m afraid he won’t recover as quickly as your family and for that reason, I must ask all of you to stay away from the Old House until he is well.”

“But, why? We’ve all been ill with it. Surely, we have some immunity.”

“I’m sure you do but strains of fever such as this have been known to mutate and that’s what I am worried may have happened here.”

“What about you, or Elliot or Willie, for that matter? Why haven’t you gotten ill? You’ve been exposed to this fever for more than three weeks.”

“I have reason to believe that Adam may have been ill when he came here and didn’t know it. He may have carried it for several days, maybe even weeks, before it affected him. You see, he is very ill right now as well. I learned this from Professor Stokes who told me about this fever in the Mideast, apparently, it’s common. The doctor I’m going to phone knows how to treat it. So, please, let me call him, it’s after midnight there.” I said as I reached the overseas operator and was directed through several operators until I reached Cairo and Adam’s doctor.

He spoke in a heavy, Middle Eastern accent but conveyed what needed to be done to combat the high fever that would come. I told him what measures I had taken, and he approved but made me understand that Barnabas, when his fever returned at full force, needed to be cooled continually. He told me how to plan for it and how to make what he called a “plaster” from eucalyptus, liquid aspirin, and olive oil to rub into his skin to help with pain. He explained muscle pain and soreness deepened with the fever. Joint pain with a high sensitivity to light, headache, delirium, and restlessness were precursors to the main crisis of high fever.

“I hope your patient isn’t a strong man like Adam,” He said, “I have hired two or three extra orderlies to help me with him. Of course, continue with the penicillin, make him drink for he will not want to, tie him down if you need to keep him from harming you or others. I have seen much injury due to this variation of fever.”

I talked to him about what medicine in his country thought this strain of fever could be and he said it had jumped the barrier from animal to human and was thought to be a variation on what was called Aswan fever from a region close to Lake Nassar. I knew of it. Healthy humans may contract a milder version and be well within a week. That explained the Collins family, but it didn’t explain Barnabas being so ill. Adam travelled to a country where the illness existed and contracted a virulent strain. It could only mean Barnabas experienced Adam’s illness and not the other way around. He warned me to be ready to deal with this fever for a day, maybe two until it broke.

I told him I would keep in touch about my patient if he contacted Elliot Stokes about his and laid the receiver in the phone cradle. I put my notebook and pen in my pocket and tried to explain to Elizabeth just how ill Barnabas was at the moment and tried to reassure her that I felt he would recover soon. Maggie came downstairs with David as I talked to Elizabeth, the concern on her face told me she felt more for Barnabas than she was willing to admit. I walked toward the Old House and met Willie on the path. I could tell by the look in his eyes that the crisis had come.

+++

Willie and I ran upstairs to Barnabas’s room and found Elliot standing in the doorway. Someone had drawn the drapes so I couldn’t see Barnabas at first in his dark pajamas in the dimness of the room. The fire had been stoked and light from it illuminated him. He stood at the end of his bed holding onto the tall bed post, the fire poker in his hand.

Elliot spoke to him. “Barnabas, please put it down.”

Barnabas turned his face toward us and for one terrifying moment, I thought his vampirism had returned. His face, savage and wild, he lifted the poker and took a step toward us.

“Barnabas!” I called and stepped toward him. “Put it down!”

His face changed in an instant to bewilderment, and he collapsed at the foot of the bed. I ran to him, took the poker, and handed it to Willie. I could feel the dry hotness of the fever through his shirt as I rolled him over and held his head in my hands.

He focused on me and gasped, “Julia…”

“Shh. It’s all right.”

Elliot explained what had happened as he and I helped Barnabas into bed, and I reached into my bag for the items I needed. “We were simply talking about the vicariousness of life when he said the light bothered him, so I drew the drapes. When I returned to him, I noticed he seemed uncomfortable. I’m no doctor by far but when I laid my hand on his head, I could feel the fever. I went to the bathroom and ran a tub of cold water. I thought I might get him in there but when I came back, he was out of bed and jabbing the fire with the poker. He said he was freezing. He stood and held his head, moaning and muttering under his breath, something like “not again” then he grabbed the poker and started swinging it and yelling “I’ll kill you before I let you ruin my life again”. He smashed the nightstand and turned over the armchair before he staggered to the end of the bed and grabbed onto the bed post.” Elliot took a breath and said, “That’s when Willie came in, so I sent him to get you.”

“Yes, that’s exactly what Dr. Kamuzu said would happen with this fever. His fever is over 105, we need to get him into the bath. Barnabas, can you stand?”

He nodded and I helped him stand. Willie took charge of him. He leaned heavily on Willie, barely able to walk.

“Elliot, would you?” I asked and Elliot went to help Willie. Willie dumped the ice from the ice chest into the water. I could see through the partially open door as they stripped his clothes and carefully lifted him into the bath. His skin had that unnatural reddish transparency that made me worry. I heard him groan as they lowered him into the water.
The sound wrenched my heart. Despite everything I’ve suffered, I care very deeply for him, any feelings I have beyond that go unacknowledged. I just can’t let myself feel anything more or let myself be miserable. I only want to enjoy my relationship with him as it stands so I can have some measure of happiness, no matter what bubbles to the surface.

I inhaled a deep breath and prepared myself to treat him. I took my medical bag into the bathroom and let Willie and Elliot go into the bedroom. Willie had wrapped a towel around Barnabas's waist knowing how uncomfortable both of us would have been if he hadn’t.

“Barnabas, wake up and let me take your temperature.” I said as I folded a towel and put it under his neck.

He opened his eyes, looked toward me, and said, “I’m growing to hate the taste of thermometer.”

The rash on his chest appeared much better. I made a quick decision and gave him another injection of penicillin. His temperature had gone down to 102.

“I’m cold, Julia. Is there anything you could do so I won’t be so cold?”

“I can give you a sedative, so you’ll sleep and something for pain. The fever must be allowed to run its course, so you’ll get better.” I ran a glass of water from the sink and held it to his lips. “Drink.” I commanded. He shot me a bemused look, but he obeyed and drank all of it.

He began shivering, “Could I get out now?”

I ran my fingers through the icy bath water. I called Willie and Elliot into the room to lift him from the tub and help him dry and dress in his pajamas.

I left and sat outside the door while they took care of him. I eavesdropped through the partially open door. He politely thanked them for helping him.

“It’s strange our friendship should be strengthened by illness.” Elliot said, “But I would hope you would help me if ever I became so ill.”

“You know I would and so would Julia.”

“Volunteering her, are you?”

“It’s her nature. She’s most generous with her talents.”

“She don’t think about herself.” Willie offered, “Other people need to think about her.”

I blushed at this discussion of me between the men of the house at the moment.

“I think of her all the time.” Barnabas mused which silenced the other two men and shocked me. The statement was so uncharacteristic of him. I couldn’t believe it was something he meant to say aloud. Why would he consider me in such a way? I couldn’t think of any reason for him to think that much about me.

Willie helped Barnabas to bed. I situated his pillows behind him and prepared to give him a sedative and something for his pain. After I administered these, I explained to Willie what I needed him to do while I was in the lab preparing the eucalyptus rub directed by Dr. Kamuzu.

“Do you have something like an all-weather tarp, something waterproof, that you could make into a pouch to hold ice, something large enough to cover his torso?” I asked Willie.

“Sure, I can. I’ll get to it.” Willie left and I looked at Elliot who stood and smoked in his shirt sleeves regarding Barnabas with a shrewd eye.

“Elliot, would you mind staying with him for just a while longer? I need to go to the lab and prepare this rub Dr. Kamuzu suggested for pain.”

“Of course. I have some thinking to do.” He said, righted the overturned armchair and sat facing Barnabas who lay uncovered to help keep his fever low. His hands clutched the fabric of his shirt as he muttered under his breath.

I said, “Call if he tries to get up. I think I’ve given him enough sedative to keep him calm for a little while.”

I went downstairs, consulted my notes, and began preparation for the rub. This took some time to prepare. I obtained all the ingredients. The olive oil from the kitchen and I had liquid aspirin which I’d given Elizabeth who had trouble swallowing pills. The pure eucalyptus oil I warmed in my lab. The scent helps me concentrate. I had to compound it in a small blender. I finished the rub, it looked like a thick, greenish balm and it smelled strong. I didn’t think Barnabas would like it. I also made his blood culture while I was there to study later if I could find the chance.

Elliot sat with his legs outstretched talking in low, confidential tones to Barnabas who responded in the same tone. But when Barnabas noticed me, he became quiet.

“I have something suggested by Adam’s doctor to help you feel less sore and more comfortable.” I said to Barnabas. I thought the sedative hadn’t fully taken effect and maybe with the use of this balm along with the sedative, he would rest for a while.

Elliot stood, buttoning his sleeves, and slipping on his jacket, “I will make my exit then, Doctor. I’ll return later to check on our friend here. If ever you need me, please call.”

“Thank you again, Elliot, for everything.” Barnabas's sincerity told me they’d talked of more than Adam.

I said, “Thank you, Elliot, please let me know if you hear anything about Adam.” Elliot nodded and left.

I turned my attention to Barnabas who eyed the jar of balm with suspicion.

“Now I know you’re not going to like this, it’s a strong smell. Unbutton your shirt.” He looked a little sheepish but did as I asked. I helped him remove his shirt. He felt so sore that he had trouble bending his elbows and moving his shoulders to shed the garment.

I removed the pillows and made him lay on his stomach. I rubbed the balm between my palms to warm it and began massaging it into his back to work the medicine into his fevered skin. He moaned and said in muffled tones, “It hurts but it feels so...wonderful.”

As I continued the massage, I could feel his muscles relaxing by degrees until all the initial tenseness I felt in him had gone. I addressed his arms, especially the joints, his shoulders, back and neck. The smell got better as it absorbed into his skin. I rubbed the back of his legs after inching up the loose pants legs. I heard him moan a little when I kneaded extra tight muscles in the back and sides of his thighs. I slid his pants legs down and got him to roll over and propped him up on pillows so I could apply the balm to his chest.

He stared at me for a short while as I rubbed the balm into his chest. I couldn’t look at his face. I felt uneasy being so familiar with him and uneasy with him for not rebuffing me for that familiarity.

He asked, “Did they teach you how to do this in medical school?”

I nodded, still not looking at him, “Yes, they do teach doctors how to give palliative care.”

He said, “You must have received top honors.” I could feel his voice resonate in his chest.

He leaned his head back and closed his eyes enjoying the massage, the touch of another human being. I realized; he’s never been touched, not like this. This thought made my hands seek out little knots and tense spots under his skin as I worked the soreness out of his muscles. His low, faint moan each time I touched and worked through the sorest places on his body gave me great satisfaction knowing I eased his pain. I watched his face now that those intense eyes weren’t searching my movements endeavoring to discern what I didn’t want to reveal. He had to know I didn’t want him to see the truth about me, which I knew he would see, if he looked at me then.

I began soothing the muscles in his stomach, sides, and lower abdomen. Tightness and heat from the fever in these muscles radiated under the surface of his skin. He relaxed slowly as I continued working along the muscles of his sides down toward his hips and lower abdomen. I felt his skin tremble beneath my fingers as I gently massaged the muscles under his navel. I noticed a slight frown appear between his eyes. With a quick movement, he caught both my hands in his and sat up. His eyes were like dark pools; fathomless, secret, burning. I couldn’t look away. His expression, questioning and knowing at the same moment, drew me to lean toward him. I felt him hesitantly pulling me toward him, his eyes fixed on mine.

“Ok, Julia.” Willie called from the hall outside the door.

The moment broke. We looked at each other as if we’d been under a spell. Barnabas looked away and let my hands slide out of his, but I heard an exasperated sigh escape his lips. He found his pajama shirt, slid it on and then laid back. But the atmosphere in the room remained charged.

“I got something made I think will work.” Willie said as he held up a large pouch with a zippered side. He stopped and glanced between Barnabas and me. “Did I interrupt something?”

“No, no, Willie.” I said as I wiped the balm from my hands. The smell had changed to something warmer, more comforting. I understood why Dr. Kamuzu recommended using it. I glanced at Barnabas who stared at the opposite wall. I couldn’t see his expression, but I could discern his anxiety. I asked Willie to put the ice pack in the bathroom with the ice chest so it would be handy when we needed it.

I said, “Thank you, Willie. You’ve been invaluable during this and I really appreciate it.”

“It’s nothing, Julia. Can I get you and Barnabas something to eat, drink? Mrs. Stoddard sent a basket full of food today.”

Barnabas said, “Yes, whatever you have, and some tea would be welcome, Willie.”

Willie glanced between Barnabas and me, a most discerning look. When he left, I composed myself before I brought my gaze to his dark eyes.

“I’m sorry if I made you feel uncomfortable.” I said stiffly, trying to forget those last few moments.

“I wouldn’t call what I felt “uncomfortable”.” He looked down. A slight smile played around his lips. Then he looked at me and said with sincerity, “It’s nothing, Julia, and, please, don’t feel embarrassed. You are simply trying to help me get well. I realize that. Forgive me.” He said in his warm, soothing way.

“Yes, I am. Is what I’m doing helping you? Would you like me to finish the massage?” My heart raced and I realized I had to get hold of myself before he solidly rebuffed me.
That little smile I saw told me I had roused a certain physical response in him that he’d not expected. I worried he wouldn’t want me to touch him again.

“You’re helping me more than you know. As for the massage, that will have to wait a bit, I think.” He looked away.

Willie entered the room bearing a tray with chicken salad and cucumber sandwiches and hot tea. I made a plate for Barnabas. He nibbled at his sandwich but drank two cups of tea. He laid back with a heavy sigh.

“How are you?” I asked as I stacked our dishes on the tray. Willie had left to get more ice.

“I’m afraid I feel worse, my head’s starting to hurt again.” He said, so I checked his temperature, 103.5. I feared the rest of the progression of this fever. I gave him two pain reliever tablets and water, another shot of penicillin and a little more sedative to keep him calm since Dr. Kamuzu spoke of patients becoming violent during the worst part of the fever. I didn’t want to have to tie him down as I thought of that chained coffin which held him for so long. I removed the extra pillows and pulled the comforter over him as he rolled onto his side facing the fireplace. Willie had gathered the broken pieces of lamp and said he’d be back with a broom to clean up any shards when he returned from town. I righted the overturned side table and sat one of the lit candelabra on it from the mantel.

“I’m sorry I made such a mess.” Barnabas said and I noticed slight shaking in his hand as he laid it on his pillow. “I thought Angelique was here, laughing in that way she laughed, telling me that death wouldn’t stop her from continuing her torment of me. All I wanted was to end that mocking laughter forever."

“It was delirium from the fever, nothing more.” I said as soothingly as I could. “Angelique is long dead. Besides, I thought you had made peace with her there at the end.”

He said, “I thought I loved her in the end but after we made our way back here, I had time to think and understand what I truly felt for her. I was caught in the moment, grateful to her for her help, long in coming. I did love her at one time before I met Josette or maybe that was one of her machinations. I can’t forgive her for what she did to my family, to my friends and to you. Her intense jealousy killed almost every woman who even wanted to show an interest in me, including herself. I believe she really loved me in the end and didn’t only want to control me. That was her curse being played out by fate or some evil entity with a warped since of justice. And still, Julia, after everything we’ve suffered through because of her, I still fear she will find a way to transcend death and come after us again.”

“She died as a mortal, not as a witch, Barnabas. She can’t transcend death any longer.”

He closed his eyes, “I hope that’s true. We’ve known some very vindictive ghosts in our time.”

The thought took me off guard. I chose to believe her only appearance existed in the fevered hallucinations of a tormented and ill man.

“Maybe she found peace back then.” I offered.

“I wonder. Time is such a convoluted thing, more like a tree than an arrow.” He mused, his words slurred and groggy from the sedative. He slept, his breathing even and deep.
I took the opportunity to rest my eyes. I thought about his dark eyes and how my hands disappeared into his, his skin trembling under my touch, him pulling me so hesitantly toward him. I sighed and watched his sleeping face as I fell asleep.

+++

I heard a loud shout and that jarred me out of a deep sleep. I opened my eyes to Willie shaking me.

“It’s Barnabas, come help me get him back inside, Julia. I can’t get him in on my own.”

I grabbed a blanket. Willie and I ran downstairs to the open front door where we found Barnabas trying to pull himself to his feet clinging to one of the large columns on the front portico. Rain sprinkled down, icy cold splinters in the gusting wind from the ocean.

He screamed hoarsely, his eyes wild and unfocused. “I must save you; she’s going to kill you! Widow’s Hill, stay away from there, you hear me, stay away!” I thought Josette and Angelique haunted him again.

“Come, Barnabas, come back inside. Everything’s all right.” I said and wrapped the blanket around his shoulders as Willie helped me support him.

“Don’t go there, please, please.” He muttered as we manhandled him through the doors. Willie had to nearly carry him upstairs as he begged for his help, begged Willie to keep “her” away from Widow’s Hill.

We wrestled him into bed where he shivered and gasped for breath. His skin felt like fire.

“Go make the ice pack, Willie.” I ordered as I stuffed a sheet under him, rolled him toward me with him weakly fighting, trying to get on his feet. I rolled him back and pulled the sheet out and over him again and repeated the exercise until I had him firmly swaddled. We had used this technique at Wyndcliff to restrain our more unmanageable patients and I felt this would be better than trying to tie him down. I folded another sheet and laid it over his torso. Willie brought the pouch stuffed with ice which we laid gently on his chest. It covered his entire torso and felt heavy enough so he couldn’t push it off himself. I couldn’t take his temperature, he shivered so that his teeth chattered.

“Please, I’m freezing.” He gasped and stared at Willie. “Let me up. I’ve got to get to Widow’s Hill. I’ve got to save her. I love her, Willie, you understand, don’t you? I must keep her safe.”

“It’s okay, Barnabas, she’s okay. I won’t ever let her go there, okay?” Willie cajoled and glanced at me.

Barnabas nodded and relaxed a little but still shook with fever. I checked the time on my watch, too soon for more sedative and penicillin. He suddenly screamed, a powerful, reverberating sound full of pain and rage. I felt shattered by that sound, something I had never heard come from him. He thrashed back and forth, his head whipping side to side, dark hair flying. “Leave her alone!!” I heard stitches popping in the sheet. His fury could be felt in the structure, the floors and walls and ceilings seemed to snap and crackle under the weight of his emotion. Distant thunder rumbled and the wind moaned in the eaves echoing Barnabas’s feeling. He sighed and relaxed again as if preparing himself for the next wave of delirium.

I laid my hand on his forehead, hot and dry. He had stopped shaking for the moment and I feared he may be lapsing into a coma. I used my medical light to look into his eyes. His pupils were dully responsive. I felt the artery in his throat, rapid but steady. I took his temperature, 105.3, dangerously high which meant it must have risen to 106 or 107 maybe higher before we laid the ice pack on his chest.

He opened his eyes and stared at me helplessly. I wanted so much to let him up, but I couldn’t, not until this crisis passed.

“Don’t leave me.” He whispered, pleading with his eyes.

I touched his cheek, "I won’t.” I said, “This sickness will be over soon, Barnabas, and we will look back on it as just that, an illness that passed.”

A flash of confusion crossed his features then he looked away from me. “I’m freezing.” He said, "Can't this thing come off me yet?”

“Not until we get the fever down.” I said as I checked my watch again. “I’m going to give you another antibiotic shot.” I prepared my syringe and tugged the top of the sheet down enough to cut the shoulder out of his pajama shirt.

“Get him some water, please, Willie.” I said as I gave him the shot. I winced as I accidentally nicked myself with the syringe when I slid the needle back into the wad of cotton wool I used to protect it in its holder. I let the nick bleed and swabbed it with alcohol.

I asked Willie to help me hold his head up while I offered him water. He refused at first until I said, “Drink, Barnabas, drink. It’s all right. You need water to get over this fever.” He drank small mouthfuls until he managed to get it all down.

“Lay back and rest now.” I told him. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath; I could see the ice pack rise and fall. I checked it; a good bit of ice remained. I got another syringe ready for the sedative and crawled onto the other side of the bed to cut away the shoulder of his shirt on that side. I sat on my knees and gave him the shot. His strange, intense eyes followed my every move. During the night, we kept giving him water and filling the ice pouch. He slipped in and out of lucidity and finally settled into sleep. Nothing near as violent as earlier in the evening occurred.

During a time of quiet after Willie had gone to sleep in the other armchair, I looked at Barnabas’s fine, pale features. The skin around his eyes had turned dark over the course of the fever. He looked almost as he did when he suffered from his curse except for the high fevered color in his cheeks. As he slept, I carefully lifted the corner of his upper lip, scrutinized his canine and the gum above it and sighed with relief when I saw it was normal. My most nagging concern had been that his vampirism would return if his body came close to death. I know the curse he lived under for so many years no longer existed but the physical condition his body had remained in for so long had a lasting effect upon his overall system.

His vampirism, though instigated by a curse, was always a debilitating disease to me and I treated it as such when I first met him. That’s when I learned that vampirism and the supernatural couldn’t be separated one from the other. But I always had my scientific doubts and worried the disease would come out of remission regardless of the supernatural side of it. We had come so close, Eric and I, to curing him of his affliction and he did stay cured for a time until something happened to make him revert to vampirism. In some ways, he still had vestiges of vampirism. His intense eyes came to mind as well as a quality in his voice, low and resonate. I never knew anyone who could simply look into your soul and read everything about you or speak and you’d tell them anything they wanted to know. He always knew more than he was willing to share.

I decided I should take this opportunity to refill the ice pack again and felt his forehead before I left the room. To my surprise, I found him somewhat cooler. If fact, he was sweating. My heart leapt. The crisis had passed.

+++

I stayed with him the rest of the night, unwrapping him from the sheet and covering him with a thin blanket. I blotted sweat from his face and woke him long enough to drink more water. At one point, I woke Willie to help him to the bathroom. He was dizzy and weak. The relief Willie felt came in waves of chatter and storytelling. I opened the curtains to a pale dawn and a warm fire.

Barnabas lay propped with pillows as Willie busied himself around the room, changing the sweat-soaked linen from the bed, cleaning the fireplace, replacing candles, and cleaning the bathroom.

He held up Barnabas’s cut pajama shirt with a questioning look in his eyes, “Just throw it away, Barnabas?” He asked.

Barnabas regarded the shirt and smiled, “My uniform from the war. Yes, I think so Willie.” He said, the good humor returning to his attitude. All his wild intensity during the previous night now seemed like a strange dream. I regarded his profile and tousled hair. I hoped my imagination fooled me into thinking I saw more gray streaks at his temples.

I was dismayed and tired, but I decided I would work that day. This fever had completely taken me away from my research and I needed to get back to work as soon as possible. I sipped my coffee as I brought my notes on this fever up to date. The entirety of the fever lasted only two days with him, but the severity had been beyond anything endured by his family at Collinwood.

“Willie.” Barnabas said. “I want you to call the telephone provider today and get a phone installed.”

Willie looked at him, surprised. “A phone?”

“Yes.” He looked at me, “I don’t want Julia having to walk between Collinwood and here every time she must use the phone. It would be a convenience for all of us.”

“Ok, Barnabas. Anything you say.” Willie said smiling.

I asked, “What brought that on? You never wanted a phone before.”

“That’s true, but you need a phone for your work and since your lab is here, I insist you have one. I don’t like the idea of you walking through the woods at all hours to find a phone.” He said as he concentrated on some spot on the wall.

He sighed as if gathering his will to speak and then said in business-like tones, “If this is agreeable to you, I would also like to prepare a room for you here where you could rest and sleep while you are working. You’re here all hours and I know you must be very tired at times. I simply think this arrangement would be better until your research comes to some conclusion.” He finished and glanced at me.

I stared at him for a second or so before I could say anything, “What’s bothering you, Barnabas? Something’s bothering you or you wouldn’t be suggesting I stay here with you.”

He looked away, “I’m only thinking of your comfort. You’ve been such a good friend to me over the years and never asked for anything in return. I simply want to be of some service to you as you’ve always been to me.” He said with such sincerity that I felt he had no ulterior motive in asking this of me.

“All right, I agree.” I said simply. I saw a flash of relief cross his features before he smiled.

“Thank you, dear lady, you don’t know how much this pleases me. I don’t feel like such a cad now.”

I chuckled and lied, “The last thing you are is a cad. Maybe a little self-centered at times but then you’ve had every right to be after what you’ve been through over the years.”

“Nothing excuses mistreatment of a lady, no matter how distracted or obsessed I’ve been at times. I’m sorry, Julia, for all the times I may have neglected you in favor of whatever delusion or misapprehension I may have been under over the years.” He reached his hand to me, and I put mine in his. His hand, warm and reassuring, enveloped mine as he drew me to the bedside. “I apologize for the times I threatened you, for all the times I ignored you, for all the times I took you for granted and asked the impossible of you. I’m especially sorry for the times I said you weren’t important to me. That was always a lie. I want you to know I’m truly deeply sorry for any and every mistreatment I may have done to you. You must believe me.” He stopped, his eyes conveyed the dept of his apology and struck me as the absolute truth.

His words overwhelmed me. I couldn’t say anything. I stared at him, trying to determine why this sudden need to apologize to me.

Discerning my thought, he said, “Can’t you guess? You’ve been here for the last few days at my side, tending to me during the first severe illness I’ve suffered since my youth, giving me comfort and care. Please let me alleviate the guilt I’ve felt for my mistreatment of you during the past with my apology. Let me tell you how grateful I am for your friendship and your expertise.” He pressed my hand.

I finally found my voice, “As for your apology, I accept, and I want you to know that I’ve always known you never meant any real harm to me…”

He flashed me a dangerous glance, “Didn’t I?”

“No, you didn’t.” I said with as much firmness as I could. “As for the rest, I appreciate your compliments, but I am a doctor.”

“Don’t dismiss me and don’t belittle yourself.” He spoke in quiet but passionate tones, his voice resonating off the walls like an echo. “You have no idea how valuable you are to me.” He raised my hand and gently pressed it to his lips before he let it slide from his grasp.

I looked away and lifted my bag, fumbling through it for my thermometer so I could check his temperature again. I felt undone and a little exposed. I wished he would turn his eyes from me. His behavior toward me since he’d become ill puzzled me, confused me. We’d always been close in both enmity and friendship, devoted in our friendship to each other but never intimate with our personal feelings about anything other than the situation we dealt with at the time. Personal feelings like he shared with me now only rarely came to the surface and when they did, they were veiled. I’d grown accustomed to his secretiveness and knew him to be a man who shared little about himself. But, over these past few days, he’d revealed more about his feelings for me than he’d ever confessed.

I found my thermometer, shook it down and slid it under his tongue. Even this simple medical procedure seemed too intimate somehow. He closed his eyes and sighed. His temperature displayed 99.8, much to my relief.

“I believe you are recovering very well. How are you feeling in general?”

“Tired, sleepy, sore, and thirsty. Might I trouble you for some water?” His sudden, formal politeness told me he’d perceived my unease. I poured cold water for him from the pitcher Willie had brought earlier. He drank two glasses and laid his head back on his pillows. I gave him a dose of pain medicine and a steroid injection to help him recover.

After he fell asleep, I went downstairs and found Willie in the kitchen cooking more chicken soup and eating leftover sandwiches. I helped myself to a sandwich and another cup of coffee and told Willie I intended to work in my lab that day. He offered to stay with Barnabas so I could.

As I started downstairs to my lab, someone knocked at the front door. As I answered the door, a frosty burst of air flooded through the opening. Winter announced its first appearance.

“Good morning, Doctor.” Elliot said as he stepped across the threshold and removed his coat.

“Good morning.” I hung his coat on the rack kept by the door and motioned for him to come into the sitting room, “How is Adam?”

“I received a call this morning from Dr. Kamuzu saying Adam is better. How is Barnabas?”

“Much better. The crisis came last night. The fever broke around two this morning. He’s sleeping now.”

“I would like to go up and sit with him if I may. I want to talk to him about Adam when he wakes.” Elliot said as he opened his cigarette case and tamped a cigarette on the outside of the case. He lit it with a slender lighter.

“Don’t expect him to reveal very much about Adam and his connection to him. He simply won’t say anything.” I said as I sipped my coffee.

“I don’t expect him to but there are other things Adam has spoken to me about in which I need to speak to Barnabas. These are of, shall I say, a rather private nature which I won’t discuss with anyone unless Barnabas gives me permission.”

“Really?” I asked, my curiosity peaked by yet another secret concerning my charge.

“I’m afraid so, Doctor. I’m sure Barnabas will let me share my information after I’ve spoken to him, or he will share it with you himself. Don’t worry, Julia, I don’t believe it’s anything very dire, simple delirium from fever, I should hope.” He stood and threw his cigarette butt into the fire, then he walked upstairs.

Willie walked into the room to collect my empty cup and I told him that Elliot was staying with Barnabas.

Willie said, “That’s good. I’m going to town to call the phone company so they can get a phone installed, maybe today. What do you think about that? I never thought I’d see him modernize this place, did you?”

“No, I didn’t Willie. Maybe he’s finally letting the past go and facing the future.”

“Yeah, that’s a really good thing for him. Be back later.” Willie said as he went through the doors that led to the kitchen. The house fell silent, and I rose to go to my lab.

I resumed my research into slowing his aging process. I studied the structure of his blood, his DNA which had a mutated and unique marker. I knew this dormant marker was changed and protected by the nucleotides surrounding it, and somehow making his RNA react by accelerating the aging process.

When he suffered from vampirism, his homeostasis processes were as if suspended in time, no replication of DNA through RNA or otherwise, lifeless but living at the same time, surviving off proteins absorbed directly into his system from living blood. He had a heartbeat, extremely slow and faint, which made it seem as if he had no pulse at all. He could go for extended periods of time without seeking living blood until he felt what he called “blood lust” which meant his blood was devouring itself in order for him to survive. The frequent attacks that occurred when he first emerged from his coffin were his animal instinct for survival, to eat or die. He rarely killed through his vampirism, took what he needed and left most of his victims remembering only a strange dream.

His abilities to disappear, control animal and human behavior, summon storms, hypnotize with his glance and voice, be invisible in a mirror and transfigure into other forms arose in the supernatural realm. I could find no evidence of these abilities unless they lay hidden in that extra, mutated marker. My expertise went no farther than the physical.
My problem was to determine how to remove that marker. I felt certain it was responsible for his accelerated aging. His actual chronological age stood at just over two hundred years, but his body’s age stood at around thirty to forty years; although, through his accelerated aging I calculated his body age to be around forty-five to fifty years. He’d been human on and off enough over the years to advance his age this far. I had to find a solution for this condition. A relapse of the vampirism would be the only other option to stop the aging. Neither Barnabas nor I would even consider this last option.

I’d worked on various ways to remove the marker. I decided to work with an altered version of restriction enzymes. I looked at the Petri dish where I’d made the blood culture and saw what appeared to be a healthy colony of bacteria but under the microscope, I could see something entirely different. The bacteria still barely functioned inside thickened blood cell walls. The bacteria were eating themselves, not dying in a normal manner through antibiotics or antibodies in his blood. I drew my eyes away from the microscope and gasped. I didn’t understand how his blood cells could trap and annihilate a bacterial infection. Upon closer inspection, I saw antibiotics within the bacteria which weakened it to the point where his blood cells could isolate it until it devoured itself and it could not replicate any longer. His own antibodies, it appears, weren’t the normal white blood cells used in our bodies to fight infection, but an altered form of red blood cell performed this function. I puzzled over this development. The structure of his blood had to be due to his vampirism and the vampirism remained present; although, in a very diminished form. As a vampire, he would have no need for white blood cells. He couldn’t become ill with any human disease. But he had. He should have had immunity from the fever. I realized he stood on the threshold between human and vampire. Anything could tip the balance.

The observation intrigued and terrified me. I couldn’t see him return to the horrors he suffered as this creature, and I wondered if Adam being so ill had something to do with what I observed. Lang had said that if Adam died then Barnabas would become as he was, a vampire. I decided I would call Dr. Kamuzu and get a report on just how ill Adam had become and then keep a close observation on Barnabas’s blood to determine if, as Adam recovered, Barnabas’s blood would become more human and normal.
I wrote my observations in my notebook used exclusively for study and research into Barnabas’s condition and rubbed my eyes. I looked at my watch. The entire day had passed, and it was 7:00 in the evening. I shed my lab coat and rushed upstairs to check on Barnabas, hoping his fever had not risen yet again.

I walked to his closed bedroom door, knocked, and heard him say “enter”. He sat by the fire dressed in pajamas and robe, the bed had been made and a small dining table sat near him.

He stood, in his gentlemanly fashion, and said, “Good evening, Julia.” Just as he had said to me, a thousand evenings past.

“Good evening, Barnabas. How are you?” I asked as I approached him and sat in a chair opposite him.

“I’m much better, thank you, except for feeling a little weak and sore.” He said as he poured a cup of tea for me. He added a spoonful of sugar and a little milk, just as I preferred it. I couldn’t remember a time when he’d prepared tea for me.

He handed my cup to me, “I slept all day except for a brief time while Elliot was here. He wanted to talk about Adam, mostly. It seems we shared the same delirium about the witch. Adam broke one of his orderlies' arms fighting with him last night. I’m glad I didn’t do as much damage as that and that’s all I want to talk about right now.” He spoke of their conversation like items on a shopping list and I knew they had talked about much more. He didn’t want to tell me the fullness of their conversation.

“No, just a broken lamp, that’s all.” I said as I sipped my tea and smelled cinnamon and apple.

“I awoke feeling hungry and asked Willie to prepare one of his excellent steak dinners. I feel the need for something a little more substantial than soup. Would you like a steak?”

I thought about it for a second and listened to my stomach rumble and nodded. He rose and stepped toward the door.

“No, let me.” I stood but he turned and gently pressed me into my chair by my shoulders.

“You rest and let me attend you for a change.” He said and left. I sat, feeling the phantom weight of his large, warm hands on my shoulders. I shook my head and poured more tea for myself. I leaned back in the chair and stretched my legs toward the fire. For a house that lacked most modern conveniences, I found the Old House comfortable and inviting. Willie had made it so under Barnabas’s instructions.

He and Willie returned bearing trays with our dinner. Barnabas set the plates and silverware while Willie set the food on the dining table. Afterwards, Willie left saying he had a date at the Blue Whale. Barnabas served us and poured the wine. As in all things, his upbringing as a gentleman shown in his table manners and serving abilities. We chatted as we ate about everything and nothing as we usually did over dinner.

He poured more wine for himself and me, “I instructed Willie to prepare a room for you today. I didn’t think you’d care to stay in Josette’s old room which I am thinking of simply closing off.”

I sipped my wine. “Why? It’s a beautiful room and would make a lovely guest room for any young lady who visited you.”

He smiled, “Not many young ladies visit me and besides…” He stopped, a slight frown between his eyes, “Josette is gone, has been gone, for a very long time now. Not even her ghost remains. She’s found her peace on the other side.” He sipped his wine. “Maybe in another lifetime, I might meet her again. I was a young man and she a young woman when we were in love. She is only a memory of the fire and passion of youth, now that I am an older man, my feelings toward her are different. I remember her as my first real love, she gave me that. When I first emerged from my coffin, all I wanted and remembered was that love, that happiness, the polar opposite to what I really was, full of hate and bitterness and hunger. I wanted more than anything to obliterate all that hatred with renewed love. The results were disastrous as you know.”

I considered him for a moment, “You’re only a few years older than when I first met you, you are still that young man in many ways.”

“No, I’m not. I can feel it in my body and in my mind. I know I am aging. It’s a marvelous and terrible thing, to grow older.”

I tried to hide my eyes from him. I didn’t want him to see what I knew to be happening to him.

He said, “You don’t fool me, you know. I know you’ve been working for several months on how to keep me alive. And, you don’t have to, Julia.” His words struck like an arrow.

“Barnabas!” I sat straight in my chair and gave him my most reproachful look, “What do you mean by that?”

“I mean I’ve set so many near impossible tasks for you that I can’t ask you to undergo yet another.” He stood and turned away from me; his head lowered.

He lifted his head and said in a voice dark as a low rumble of thunder, “I don’t want you to waste your life on hopeless causes, especially my…”

“Stop!” I said and stood. “You will not dictate to me what’s hopeless and what’s not, Barnabas Collins, I won’t let you. I’ll thank you to remember I will work on what I want to work on with or without your permission.”

He swung toward me, the expression on his face, exasperated fury mixed with admiration. He regarded me with the intensity of a duelist. I would not let my gaze drop from his as I watched a gamut of emotions flow through his eyes. We stood in this stalemate for what seemed like minutes. His expression softened until he lowered his eyes and opened his arms to his sides, palms toward me and bowed.

“I surrender the field to you, dear lady.” He said, then he looked at me from his bowed position, “I am at your service.”

I heard a shutter bang somewhere in the house as I stood in that suspended moment. I saw the tipping point between he and I and I didn’t want to move for fear of upsetting the status quo. He moved instead.

“Let us talk about it.” He said as he pulled the dining table back and turned his chair to face mine. I remembered all the times we had sat just like this, our heads together in front of a fire, deciding what step to take next.

He leaned back in his chair, legs extended to the side of mine, his fingers steepled in front of his lips as he listened to me. I told him about my research and how far I had come in the past few months. He listened with interest as I explained, sometimes in clinical terms, what I thought had to be done. I also told him about the blood culture I’d examined that afternoon and what I believed about his past vampirism.

“So, that’s where I’m at right now with my research. What do you think?” I asked, hoping he would feel more optimistic about my finding a solution to his rapid aging.

“I think you’re brilliant.” He looked at me as he sat up. “Once upon a time, what you are doing right now would have been considered sorcery and to me your work is something quite magical, indeed. I am available to you for whatever research you need. I’ll help however I can. I believe what you are doing for me might be of service to others, Adam for instance.”

He discerned the question in my eyes and continued, “Elliot has spoken to me about Adam’s apparent rapid aging also. Adam and I are sharing increasingly more as time passes. Our connection is growing stronger via Adam who can dream what I dream, feel what I feel, but I can’t discern Adam other than through a life-threatening event. That’s what Elliot wanted to share with me today and he wondered about my side of the connection. I can sense Adam, know he’s alive and well, but I can’t see what he sees or determine his emotion.” He sighed and stood, “There’s also another thing, Adam has exhibited signs of vampirism as well, signs like desiring fresh blood and he woke one night in the desert almost fifteen miles from his hotel. He had no recollection of how he got there. Elliot was very perplexed by this strange course of events and wanted to know if anything like that has happened to me.” He leaned on the mantel, “Julia, what if no longer living under the curse has changed our course somehow? What if there’s a chance since I gave him the part of my life force that belonged to the vampire, that he and I will conclude as such?”

I could hear the concern in his voice. I said, “I don’t think there’s a chance of that happening because Eric had said that if Adam dies then you’ll revert to the way you were and if you die so does Adam. I think Adam is experiencing traits of vampirism because you still have vestiges of it yourself. I think time will eventually erase those vestiges but then, what do I know without tests? I need to test Adam.”

“How will you do that since Adam’s in Egypt at the moment?”

“I could have Dr. Kamuzu send Adam’s blood samples, have them packed in dry ice and shipped by the fastest carrier that we can find so the samples won’t deteriorate.”

“Why do you think I still have anything left in me from that creature I was?”

“I can see vestiges of vampirism in you under the microscope as well as in you as you are now. You forget I know that side of you extremely well. I’m sorry to say it, Barnabas, but it’s true.” He looked away from me, a deep frown between his eyes.

I checked my watch. “It should be early morning there so I will go to Collinwood and give him a call.”

“No, you won’t have to do that. The new telephone was installed today, much to Willie’s delight. Come, I’ll take you to it.”

“You worry too much.” I said as I followed him downstairs where a new black phone sat on the writing desk by the front window.

Changing the subject, he said, “I hate those ugly wires they strung from the road. Willie had them hide the poles to the back of the house, at least.” He sat in one of the armchairs in front of the fire while I called overseas. After the usual delays through various operators, I heard someone pick up and say “hello” in crisp American tones.

“Hello, Adam?” I asked and listened to the hesitation on the other end.

In his deep voice Adam said, “Doctor Hoffman? Hello, it’s good to hear your voice. How is Carolyn? Not ill, I hope.”

“You too. She had the fever, but she has recovered. How are you?”

“Much better, I take it Barnabas is recovering as well?”

“Yes, he’s almost back to his old self.”

“And you? No ill effects yet? “

“None. I think I’m too thick skinned to get sick.” I laughed and heard Adam chuckle on the other end.

“What can I help you with?” He asked. I asked for Dr. Kamuzu. Adam said, “He’ll be back later this morning. May I have him return your call?”

I gave him Barnabas’s phone number and asked, “How are you enjoying Egypt?”

“It’s a beautiful country with wonderful people, you really must visit here sometime.” He said and asked, “Is Barnabas available? I would like to speak with him if he is.”

“Of course.” I offered the phone to Barnabas who stood and took the receiver.

“Barnabas Collins speaking.” He listened, his back to me as straight as an arrow. He said nothing for some time and then said, “I understand, Adam. We will talk more at a later date. Please convey to Dr. Kamuzu my thanks for all his helpful information during my illness. Yes, Goodbye.”

He said to me, his back still turned, “He’s worried.”

He sat the receiver slowly back in its cradle and turned to me. “Would you like to see your room?”

I nodded, “Alright.”

I followed him upstairs thinking there had to be more to his conversation with Adam. I felt exasperated that he wouldn’t share some secret between himself, Adam, and Elliot.

Barnabas went to a door across from his room. As he turned the doorknob, he said, “This was my room when I lived here with my family.” He opened the door. Lamps had been lit inside the room and I could see a full-sized bed with my suitcase lying in the middle of it.

“You had my clothes brought over?” I asked, a little taken aback.

“Yes, I took the liberty and asked Carolyn to pack a few things for you since you were working today. I didn’t want to disturb you.” He said in even tones. “I hope I didn’t offend you.”

I shook my head, “No, I’m not offended. I’m simply surprised. I wasn’t thinking of taking up residence here right away. You went out today?”

“Well, at least, part time residence and yes, I did. I wanted to stretch my legs and show everyone at Collinwood that I’m fine.” He said as he entered the room. “I hope you’ll be comfortable here. There’s a good fireplace and the room is small enough to keep you warm during the winter. I was very comfortable here.”

“You shouldn’t have gone out, your fever only broke last night. Most people are too weak after a fever like that to move about very much.” I chided as I opened my suitcase and then sighed, “But thank you for the room, it’s very generous of you.”

“Not near as generous as you’ve been to me.” He said in quiet tones as he walked to my side and put his hand on my back, “I feel I can never truly repay you for what you’ve done for me the past few days.”

I looked at him and smiled, “We’re friends, Barnabas, and that’s what friends do for one another.”

He smiled and changed the subject, “May I help you with your unpacking?”

“No, I can manage just fine.”

“You can use the facilities next to my room. I’ll make sure the door that opens off the hall is unlocked, and you have all you need.” He said as he stepped through the door and into the hall.

“Good night, Barnabas.”

“Good night, Julia, sleep well.” I heard the door to the master bedroom close. A distinct emptiness filled my room.

+++

I gathered my toiletries and went to the bathroom to soak myself in a hot bath. Even though my room was cozy, I felt cold after I unpacked. I heard the phone ring and hurried downstairs to talk to Dr. Kamuzu. I cited that I wanted to compare Adam’s blood with Barnabas’s to study the genetic effects of the fever. He agreed to send the blood samples saying he’d take them to the airport himself and put them on the plane. I asked if he could tell me just how ill Adam had been and he said, at one point, he thought his patient close to death. I learned that Adam had lapsed into a comatose state but recovered quickly for an unknown reason. Dr. Kamuzu stated what Adam had told him, he suddenly found a will to live and that will came through hope.

I puzzled over Adam’s words as I ran the bath, steam rose in long ribbons from the water as I lowered myself into it and felt total bliss. I rolled a towel and slid it behind my head and just lay there letting myself relax and enjoy the candlelight that illuminated the room. A small wood stove kept the bathroom warm, and I smelled wood smoke mixed with candle wax, a not unpleasant combination.

Barnabas had stacked thick towels and wash cloths on a small table next to the tub along with soap and a bottle or two of bath oil. I selected one of the oils and smelled roses, the other was lavender. I chose the rose oil, my favorite scent, and poured a little in the bathwater. The scent spread through the room in a luxuriant wave. I lay in that wonderful bath until the water started to cool and decided to wash myself from head to foot. I hadn’t had a proper bath in a few days and felt it. I don’t how people stood not taking proper baths during the time this house was built. I made a mental note to ask Barnabas about 18th century bathing.

I rose from the tub, dried and wrapped myself in my robe. I wiped steam from the mirror over the sink and regarded my tangled, towel dried hair and make-up free face. I still had the pixie features I had as a little girl and my hair hadn’t shown any signs of gray yet. The thought slid through my mind that I would be forty-six in a few months, not young at all.

I always prided myself on having no delusions or illusions about myself. I knew I wasn’t considered beautiful at my age. I think men viewed me as too clinical and observant, cold and cynical, unlovable, bossy and demanding. Middle age and devotion to my work guaranteed my remaining alone. Few had shown any interest in me in a romantic way for years and the ones who had were doctors like me. Even those relationships were somehow passionless, loveless, and unfulfilled things that died except for one. I didn’t want to think about John at that moment. I gave up on love for a long time until I met Barnabas and my feelings for him spread through the spectrum from love to hate to deeper love.

When I first met him, he threatened to kill me so many times that I decided he wouldn’t really do it. He knew I wasn’t afraid of him. I fell in love with him at first sight and he knew it. I think that bothered him more than any fear I may have had of him. He tried to make me hate him. He made me jealous of all the young, beautiful women he seemingly loved at one time or another. I tried to hate him. He tried to chase me away, but I wouldn’t go, much to my own frustration. I tried to ignore him, feel cold toward him, and completely discount him as an egocentric, delusion ridden, monstrous, crazy man. Why love a man who brought me so much emotional pain? I wanted to leave but I couldn’t, no matter what, I just couldn’t and my inability to save myself frightened me. The only way he’d be rid of me and I of him, would be if we killed each other. Then we got into all these situations with his family and our enmity turned to friendship after proving ourselves to each other more than once. Our friendship turned to devotion and then companionship and now? I entertained the thought that maybe he had a little affection for me and lately, he’d been more demonstrative than he ever had. But I wouldn’t let myself hope even though the temptation presented itself.

I peeked out the door to see if anybody stood in the hallway and walked softly to my room in bare feet on the long hall rug. I saw a faint light under Barnabas’s door and his shadow pass by it. I carefully opened my door and slipped into my room. I noticed that the lock on my door didn’t work when I twisted the key in the latch and decided to let Willie know. I prefer a lock on my door.

I dressed for bed and sat in front of the fire to comb my damp hair. I hadn’t cut it for a long time and always wore it in a twist at the back of my head. My bangs had grown to the top of my eyebrows and no amount of combing them back ever worked. When my hair dried, I blew out the candelabra and crawled into bed. A feather bed covered the mattress, and the pillows were large and puffy. I sank into comfort like I knew in my youth when I lived with my grandmother in Pennsylvania. Faint moonlight filtered through the lacy curtains. I could hear an owl somewhere in the nearby forest and the far away sound of the ocean. I fell asleep and dreamed.

In my dream, I ran through Eagle Hill Cemetery toward the mausoleum in the soft dusk of evening. I reached the mausoleum and pulled the ring in the lionhead's mouth above the secret door and slipped inside the hidden room. The room held Barnabas’s unchained coffin and lit candelabra stands. I opened the lid and he lay there slowly waking, looking at me with his hypnotic, burning eyes and dressed in the clothing he wore in the eighteenth century. I had no fear of him. He raised himself from the coffin in one movement and wrapped one side of his cloak around me, his arm firmly around my waist.

He whispered in my ear, “Come, I want you to know.” My feet lifted from the ground. Lighter than air, we flew through the moonlit night, slid through tree limbs without touching them, swirled over roofs, and eased through key holes and into rooms. We could hide in a shadow. We reveled in our freedom as we ran beside each other as wolves. I became an owl. From far away, I could hear the rustle of mice in the fields, chase moths in the moon light, hear the sigh of a child sleeping in its cradle. I could smell a thousand aromas swirling through the night air, call a dark wind and it lifted us toward the cold stars.

We walked through crowds of people, and I could smell their life, see their blood coursing through their veins, feel their heat like individual flames. I wanted them, each and every one of them. I craved them with a hunger that ran into the pit of me, an insatiable desire not just for survival’s sake but for my empty soul’s sake. A heavy desire for closeness, human touch, warmth, love, and unquenchable rage that my humanity had been stripped from me occupied my every thought. I felt hatred, bitterness, and a need to lash out at all this humanity. I could see angels and demons gazing at me as they hovered near the tops of lamp posts and hid in the shadows of doorways. Spirits walked all around me. I wanted to be like these ghosts. I longed for peace.

We stood face to face in the mausoleum again, dawn would come soon. He stared into my eyes, and he pressed me to his body, his hands splayed across my back so I couldn’t move.

“I want you to know.” His thought said in my mind.

He lowered his head. I could sense his deep hunger. I felt the brush of his hair against my cheek, smelled his smell. I felt warm breath on my throat, the touch of sharp teeth and a quick, penetrating pain. I endured the pulsing fire of some unknown venom he released into my blood. The sensations altered and I felt as if I was falling into an erotic and all-encompassing pleasure where nothing, but he and I existed. My mind reeled. I lost myself until only he existed. I clutched at him as he took me into his casket with him. I slipped into a vast, black ocean with him, felt him there in the most intimate form one being could be with another, our souls as one.

I gasped and pulled myself out of the dream. I clutched at my bedclothes as the remnants of the dream faded. I panted. My body had indeed responded.

“Oh, God, I’m too old for such things.” I thought as I sat there, trying to compose myself. I lit the candle on my bedside table and licked my dry lips. I was so thirsty, and my head felt heavy. I slipped into my robe and decided to go downstairs and drink as much water as I could hold. I didn’t want to get water from the hall bathroom. I didn’t feel I could face him at that moment if he opened his door. I couldn’t look at him with that black desire that coursed through me with my blood. The light still shown from under his door. I heard the downstairs clock chime two.

I padded downstairs and there he sat in one of the armchairs by the fire, the candles had long guttered and gone out. The fire cast flickering shadows on the wall. He glanced up at my step and stood.

He said, “I see you can’t sleep either.”

I gathered my control. “I’m thirsty, I just came down for water. I didn’t want to disturb you by using the upstairs bathroom.” I looked at the fire instead of him. “Do you want anything from the kitchen?”

“I’ll come with you.” He followed me into the long kitchen. There was a large table in the middle of the kitchen where Willie prepared food and we ate most of our meals. Barnabas turned up the flame in a large kerosene lamp that hung over the table to give us a little light. The sink stood to one side of the kitchen and the wood stove to the other. There were cupboards full of dinnerware, cups and glasses and kitchen utensils. Barnabas shook the kettle and added water.

“I think I’ll have some tea.” He said as he set the kettle on the stove and opened the fire door on the side. He added a few sticks of firewood, closed it, and adjusted the flue. I went to the sink and ran a large glass of water. I drank all of it. Soon, I heard the fire roaring, steam escaped the kettle before it could whistle. Barnabas poured hot water over a tea filled perforated spoon that lay across the top of an old, ceramic tea pot that sat at the back of the stove to keep it warm. He poured tea for me first and then for himself. He sat next to me at the table, our backs to the stove. We sipped our tea in silence, each involved with their own thoughts.

I thought how very comfortable I had become with him. When I first met him, I wouldn’t turn my back on him. I didn’t trust him in the least and he did things that caused my trust in him to falter. His actions were insane and unreasonable, illogical, reckless, and dangerous. But then, he could be honorable and truly unselfish. He could be so good and had a deep sense of justice. He could be kind and generous, gentle, and almost sweet. Then, he could be cruel, heartless, and evil when it suited him. It was like he stood on the edge of a knife between his better and baser natures. Even now as I glanced at him, what could be running through that mind of his? I never knew, could never discern his thoughts.

I closed my eyes and leaned my head on my hand. I’d given myself a headache and this hot tea didn’t seem to be making it any better.

“Are you all right?” His voice had a quality that made it seem like it enveloped me. I thought about that intense dream I’d had and pulled myself away from him a little. I wouldn’t let him see my crazy desires.

I turned my head away from him and said as lightly as I could, “I just have a little headache. Probably eyestrain after being in the lab all day.”

He stood and ran a glass of water from the sink and set a small bottle of aspirin in front of me. He watched as I dropped aspirin tablets into my palm and washed them down with the water. The cold water felt good on my throat.

I glanced at him and saw a puzzled look cross his features, “Are you certain you’re all right?” He asked.

I nodded and stood to go back to my room. “I’m going back to bed. Thank you for the tea.”

I could feel him watch me as I left the kitchen. As I climbed the stairs, I felt an overwhelming need to cry and, once I laid myself down, I cried until I fell asleep.

+++

Sometime later in the night, I woke, groggily sat up and looked around the room. Maybe I’d had another dream, but I felt as if someone had entered my room. I tried to peer into the shadows in the corners but could see nothing. I felt someone watching me.

“Barnabas, are you in here?” I asked quietly so I wouldn’t wake him if he slept across the hall.

No answer, no movement but I felt someone watching me. Then my door opened silently, and someone entered the room. I could see moving shadows in the dim light cast by the fire’s embers. The moonlight through the curtains picked out a silhouette as he rounded the foot of my bed, and I recognized Barnabas.

He sat on the side of my bed in the darkness. “What’s wrong? I heard you call me.”

“You heard me almost whisper your name?”

“I was in the hall.”

I sighed, “It’s nothing. I thought someone was in the room with me. “
I could feel him tense, “Tell me.”

“It’s nothing, probably a dream. I’ve had more than enough of those tonight.” I sighed and rubbed my head, it still hurt. But he stayed, waiting for a more detailed answer.

“I thought someone was watching me.” I finally said.

He rose and lit the candle next to the bed. His hair was tousled as if he’d been asleep. He took the candle and walked around the room, looking in shadowed corners, stopping to stare longer at the corner of the wall next to the windows opposite my bed. He then returned the candle and blew it out.

He said, “I think if anything were here, it’s gone now.”

“Probably just my imagination.” I said and laid down. I fell asleep before he left the room.

I didn’t rest well, tossed, and turned and imagined people were in the room with me. I thought Barnabas was still in the room with me. Sometimes I saw him as he was in the past, sometimes as he appears now, sitting by the side of my bed in a rocking chair that had been situated in front of the windows. I felt someone looking at me from the ceiling with a malicious gaze. I didn’t fall into a sound sleep until pale light filled my windows and I saw the empty rocking chair.

+++

When I awoke, strong daylight filled the room. I looked at my watch, it was after ten in the morning. I groaned and sat on the side of my bed. I rarely slept this late. I got dressed and went to the bathroom to style my hair and apply a little cosmetic. I listened at the adjoining door to the master bedroom but heard only silence. Maybe he slept as well after being awake most of the night.

I made my way downstairs and found Willie stoking the fire in the parlor.

“Oh, hi, Julia. How’re you this morning?” He asked as he stood and set the poker back on the rack.

“I’m all right. I didn’t sleep very well I’m afraid. That’s why I’m up so late.”

“Barnabas wanted to let you sleep this morning, he said the same thing.” Willie said, regarding me with an odd, discerning look. Then he brightened, “Come on, I made you some breakfast.”

I followed Willie into the kitchen to the smells of coffee and breakfast food. He took a plate from the wood stove’s warmer and set it in front of me. Eggs, bacon and toast and he poured a cup of coffee for me. The coffee was so delicious.

Willie said, “Barnabas wanted me to tell you he’s gone to Bangor. Guess what? He’s going to have a refrigerator installed!”

I almost laughed aloud at Willie’s excitement.

“Next thing you know, Julia, he’s going to have this place wired and have central heat and air put in.”

I shook my head. “One thing at a time. He’s taking baby steps right now.” I ate my breakfast and asked for another cup of coffee.

I asked, “Why did he go into Bangor today? Surely not to buy a refrigerator.”

“I don’t know. He didn’t say and I don’t ask. He don’t tell anyone about his business, you know. Even if I did ask, he wouldn’t say anything anyway.” Willie said as he cleared my breakfast dishes.

Something occurred to me, “Willie, I don’t mean to pry, and you don’t have to explain anything to me but ... he does pay you, doesn’t he, for all you do around here?”

“Oh, yeah. He pays pretty well too. Plus, I get to live here and all my food and everything is supplied for me. No, I wouldn’t stay if he didn’t pay me, I couldn’t afford to, you know.” He paused and stammered, “At first, he didn’t because of the… you know, the power he had over me. I suppose he still does, in a way. But I stay now because I want to, not because I have to. Barnabas, he’s a friend, now. He’d do anything for me, and I’d do anything for him.” He ended and shrugged in his self-defacing way. “Why did you want to know?”

“Just curious.” I said and smiled. Then the thought crossed my mind that I sought a way to lessen my feelings for him. That dark dream came back to me, and I thought, in the daylight, I could look at it with more discerning eyes. But I couldn’t look at it, couldn’t pick it apart and analyze it. Every time I thought of it, I felt drawn into it, wanting nothing but to feel that ecstasy again.

I didn’t feel that way with Tom Jennings. That’s what puzzled me. Maybe if it had happened that way with Barnabas, I’d feel true feelings, not these phantom dream emotions. With Tom Jennings, I felt fear, pain and was not in control of myself. I felt helpless and vulnerable. Maybe it would have been the same with Barnabas, I had to believe that’s the way it would have been. I couldn’t let these fantasies occupy me. Why had I even had that damn dream?

I tried working in the lab, but my headache pounded, and I realized I didn’t feel well at all. “Oh, no.” I thought and shook my thermometer down. 102.3. I groaned and gave myself a penicillin injection and took a pain killer for my headache.

I made my way to the kitchen carrying my medical bag. Willie was in the middle of directing two delivery men who rolled a brand new, white refrigerator into the kitchen. Willie had spent the morning running a wire from the basement fuse box up to the kitchen for his new prize.

“I’m going to my room.” I told Willie, “I’m not feeling well right now.”

He looked hard at me, “You’re not getting sick, are you?”

“I don’t know, I might be but it’s nothing I can’t handle.” I patted Willie’s arm.

I made my way upstairs and stoked the fire in my room. I dressed in a flannel gown and crawled into bed. I fell asleep as soon as I lay down.

Later, I awoke to my head pounding and a deep thirst. I saw someone had set an ewer of water and a glass next to my bed. I poured myself water and drank all of it. I checked my watch; three hours had passed. I took my temperature again. 103.8. I shivered and felt sick to my stomach. I managed to make it to the bathroom where I vomited until I felt empty. I washed my fevered face, made a cool compress, and went back to my room. I collapsed into bed, managed to cover myself and place the compress on my forehead. I slept again.

The next time I woke, Willie sat in the rocking chair. He poured a glass of water for me and asked if he could get me anything. I asked him to hand me my medical bag so I could prepare another shot of antibiotics for myself. My hands shook so from the fever that I had a tough time drawing the medicine from the bottle. I managed to give myself the shot and took two more pain relievers for my headache while Willie made another cool compress for me.

I fell asleep and had wild, violent dreams. I fought with some unseen, nameless thing that threatened me. There was a bell jar sitting on the mantel that contained a dark swirling substance. The invisible thing laughed manically as it lifted the jar. The dark substance swirled and morphed until I could see Barnabas, as a vampire, standing in my room. The look on his face was one of resigned grief and my heart simply broke. He came to me and lifted me from the bed, whispering to me, “I want you to know.”

I woke with a muffled whimper. I was shivering and I couldn’t tell what time it was. I couldn’t see any light except the firelight. Strange shadows filled the room and I felt that malevolent stare fall on me. I closed my eyes and clutched the bed clothes around me.

I drifted out of consciousness. I hallucinated someone slipping into my bed from behind me. I could feel this phantom slide closer to me radiating a delicious warmth. I felt a hand slip under my ribs and another over them, then two strong arms pulled me toward a warm body, a man’s body. I was snuggly cradled against his body. I felt a sighing breath on the nape of my neck. I settled into that warmth and the shivering subsided. I put my arms over the arms around me and felt safer than I ever had in my life. Then a hesitant, tender, caressing kiss touched the nape of my neck and sent a shiver of pure pleasure the length of my body.

I murmured, “Ah, my demon lover, at last.” I melted into him, wanted him. He buried his face in my hair, his hands held my arms. He breathed raggedly. A barely contained passion lurked inside that gentle, cradling body. I fought the wave of darkness that settled over me. I wanted this hallucination to linger and never end.

From here only flashes of memory come to me. I felt Barnabas and Willie wrapping me in a blanket. I felt myself being lifted and carried by two strong arms and looked up to see Barnabas holding me tight to him as he descended the stairs. I was outside in a cold, drizzling rain then lying in the back seat of the car and Barnabas holding me to him, my head on his shoulder. I could hear him talking to Willie, saying reassuring things to me as we moved through the night. Then harsh overhead lights blinded me. I remember saying something about how I had grown used to candlelight and couldn’t see in this glaring brilliance. Then talking, a lot of talking, all gibberish except for Barnabas’s voice which came through as authoritative and convincing. I shook with fever. I felt exposed and completely helpless. I called for him and felt his warm hand on mine as he said, “I’m here. I won’t leave you. Sleep, now, sleep.” I obeyed.

+++

I woke laying in a hospital bed, an IV inserted into my arm which had been cuffed to the bedrail to keep me from pulling the tubing out of my vein. I looked at the IV pole and saw a bottle of saline and a smaller bottle of antibiotic. The room had been darkened and Barnabas sat stretched out in a chair with his head leaned against the wall. He was in his shirt sleeves which were rolled up, his tie gone, and his vest unbuttoned. I didn’t recall him looking like this in public or at home for that matter. He always looked immaculate in his suit.

I cleared my throat and looked for a water pitcher. He opened his eyes and came to my side in an instant.

“How are you?” He asked as he took my hand.

“Thirsty and sore.” I managed to whisper. My throat felt so dry.

He poured water for me, cradled me in one arm, lifted me and held the straw to my lips so I could drink. I drank another cup full before I felt better. My body ached, my skin felt sunburned, and my throat felt raw.

My voice sounded hoarse and scratchy to me. “Tell me how I got here.” I said as he raised the head of my bed and propped pillows behind me.

“I don’t want to weary you with talk.” He said as he opened the door to my room and set the water pitcher outside on a table that had been placed there. I saw a quarantine sign on the door.

“I want to know. I feel better at the moment. How long have I been here?” I asked.

“Willie and I brought you here last night. When I got home, Willie told me you were ill, and I went to your room. You were burning with fever and delirious. We wrapped you in a blanket and brought you here. I brought your notes on the fever and gave them to Dr. Jenkins so he would know how to treat you. They’ve quarantined this room and I agreed to stay with you until you’re better. Nurses come in fully gowned to change your fluids, check your blood pressure and temperature about once every two hours. The doctor came this morning to check on your progress. He’ll be back this evening. Our food is brought and left outside the door. That’s the full report.” He said and looked at me, the expression on his face full of concern, then he continued, “I’m sorry you’re ill. I feel responsible for your illness, and it pains me to see you like this.”

“Please don’t feel like that. I’m ill because I nicked my finger with a syringe after I gave you an injection.”

“Still, you are ill because of me. I’ll be very happy when you are well again.”

“Thank you, Barnabas. Have I rested well since I’ve been admitted? I’m sorry to say I don’t remember much since this fever came on me.”

“You talked in your sleep. I attributed what you were saying to delirium. I know I probably did the same thing during the fever.”

“You did.”

He took a deep breath and looked into my eyes, “You repeated one phrase I thought may have some basis in reality.” He paused, “You said, ‘he can’t know’.”

A sinking feeling hit the pit of my stomach. I composed myself, “Did I?”

“At the risk of sounding egotistical, what can’t I know?” Barnabas asked and fixed his demanding eyes on mine.

I looked away, “It’s nothing. I’ve been having some nightmarish dreams lately about you reverting to vampirism, that must be it. There’s no basis in reality, just fears on my part.”

“Tell me about these dreams.”

“Alright.” I decided to be selective in my answer. “I dream that some invisible force opens a jar and turns you into a vampire again like you were in the beginning because you always wear the clothing of that period. You tell me you want me to know, and you take me away with you and show me what it’s like to be you. Strange, wonderful, terrifying things fill this part of my dream.” Then I lied, "I'm in my lab and I’m looking at your blood sample and I see that this is happening to you, and I tell myself that you can’t know. There’s no basis in reality because the blood sample can disappear and reappear.” I swallowed. "May I have more water, please?”

He opened the door and retrieved my water pitcher which had been promptly refilled and poured another cup of water for me. I drank all of it and he poured more for me.

He said, “I don’t really know what caused you to have a nightmare like this about me. I have a suspicion, but I won’t go into that right now.” He paused and looked deeply into my eyes, “I don’t want you to suffer under any illusions about being a creature like I was.” He sat in the chair next to my bed. The late afternoon sun slanted through the half-opened blinds and fell across the foot of my bed. Shadow and light lay together in horizontal bars. They reminded me of I- Ching wands.

He spoke, his voice dark and edged with vehemence, “When I was cursed by a woman who claimed to love me, she called a creature from hell, a demon, to infect me with a deadly bite full of venom. I died, or so it seemed, from that bite. When I first awoke from this death, I felt a deep shift within my soul from a descent, loving man to something vile and infested with evil. I hated everything about myself, but I kept a kernel of what I once was. I walked among humans and wanted so desperately that humanity once more, especially love. My father locked me in that coffin, and nothing was all I had except dreams and hallucinations and visions of things I didn’t understand and were as foreign to me as a star. I suffered terrible loneliness and ravaging hunger. I had all these powers, but I couldn’t free myself from that coffin. My father had nailed a cross inside the lid to make sure I couldn’t escape. At the first opportunity, I called for someone to let me out, used my evil to touch theirs. I found I could enchant, hypnotize, and seduce any woman but they could never love me. I ravaged them like an incubus and took all I wanted. Their blood, their life, their will, their innocence belonged to me. Most I used to satisfy my appetite, my devils, and I let them go so they could live their lives and remember me as only a dream. Some I believed I loved and of these, each one either perished or vanished like smoke within my embrace.”

He stopped and stood in front of the window, his shadow blotting out the bands of light and shade at the end of my bed. He sighed and continued, “I loved them, told myself I loved them, but I was a cruel and sadistic lover driven by my devils to do monstrous things to them, control them, demand, and dictate. There existed no redemption for me. I was a murderer, a kidnapper, a predator, a monster in every sense of the word. I was death and a giver of a corrupted and damned life. Even the demons in hell worshipped me. I sought a way to redeem myself while a vampire. I wanted very much to do what was right and just. I sacrificed my need for love for the greater good of my family. After Roxanne, I’ve kept myself to myself. I never want you to feel you’d want to live that completely damned existence, not ever.”

A tense silence filled the room until I said, “You’re human now. You can love as a man.”

“Can I?” He turned his gaze to me and quickly looked away. “I can’t tell you, Julia, how the prospect of loving again frightens me to my very core.”

“Barnabas, why?”

He shook his head, “I’m so familiar with the presence of evil and I’ve felt it around me lately. I can’t pin it down, some malignant entity disguising itself inside the walls at the Old House. Have you felt it?”

I perceived the quick change of subject away from himself to evil entities. He knew I’d be intrigued. “Yes, I have in my room while I’m trying to sleep but it vanishes with the daylight.”

“I don’t think it’s just passing through; I think it’s something to do with Angelique.”

“But, if there’s no love interest in your life right now, why would she leave her grave to haunt you?”

I waited as silence, as tight as a wire, filled the room. His shoulders looked tense against the light of the window. A sharp rap sounded at the door, and I could see him relax.

“Come in.” I said and a fully gowned nurse changed the IV bottle and hung another antibiotic bottle. She took my blood pressure, pulse, and temperature. I took the opportunity to ask, “Dr. Kamuzu gave me a preparation for sore muscles and joints, is there any objection to my using it while I’m here?”

“No mam, there’s no restriction against you using it on yourself or your husband rubbing it on you. We can’t because of the quarantine, though.” I could see her eyes smile behind her mask as she glanced at Barnabas and left the room.

I felt myself blush to the roots of my hair. Barnabas grinned and laughed, “Husband. Well, as long as they don’t know.” He opened a drawer in a small table next to my bed and held up the jar of balm I’d made for him.

My eyes widened. “Barnabas, no.” I stammered.

“Yes. I know how miserably sore you are. I brought it for the nurses to use on you, but they won’t, so I would like to return the favor.”

“I’m qualified to do what I did…”

“Yes, you told me. Let me try, in my clumsy way, to bring a little relief to you.”

“I can’t move. I’m cuffed to the bed.”

“We can remedy that.” I watched as he undid the tiny buckles on the cuff and slid it off my wrist. My heart began pounding. I thought, “I can’t let him touch me. He’ll know.”

He smiled and fixed those wide, hazel eyes on mine and said smoothly, “I think we’ll start with your back and then...” His mischievous smile teased.

“There’s no “and then” about it. I’m only dressed in a hospital gown.” My mind reeled with the question, "What has gotten into him?"

“Then...we’ll see.” He said as he moved my IV pole to the other side of the bed, my arm lay over my chest. I thought, “Oh, my chest.” My memory flew back to his trembling skin underneath my fingers. I blushed again.

He gently pulled the extra pillows from under my head and lay the bed flat. Then he lowered the bed rail and slipped his hands under my back and carefully turned me onto my stomach. Shock prevented me from saying anything. And worst of all, I didn't want him to stop. I couldn’t see what he did, but I could feel him slowly unsnap my hospital gown down to my lower back. Even the way he did this simple action, so slow and enticing, filled me with fire. I held my breath, wondering if he’d go any farther than that and realized he no more wanted to embarrass me than I did him. He opened the gown. I could feel him gazing at my barely covered body before he pulled the blanket up over my exposed legs. I heard the lid being unscrewed from the jar and smelled the strong eucalyptus aroma of the balm. A few seconds later, I felt his warm hands on me and gasped.

I prayed, “God, don’t let me feel this way right now.”

He hesitated for a second, “I hope I’m not hurting you.”

“No, it feels good, really good.” I said as he rubbed the balm in into the skin of my arms and shoulders and proceeded down my back.

He said nothing as he focused on relieving the pain I felt. I relaxed as he had done, by degrees, until all the tension left my body. His fingers felt like they were made to give this kind of pleasure. My skin felt so much better. I felt cool but not cold. He reached my lower back and moved his attention to my hips which he massaged with his open hands. The pain eased and my concentration focused entirely on what he did to me. He inched his hands up my ribs. The tip of one of his fingers barely grazed the extreme outside of my breast and I stifled a surprised moan of pleasure. He felt my body tense and quickly moved his attention to the back and sides of my neck until I relaxed again. He fastened my gown. He uncovered my legs. He started with my feet and worked his way up, alternating between legs. His hands wrapped around my legs, massaging front and back. He moved his fingers in a slow, tantalizing fashion. I felt anticipation gathering and willed him to move higher up my thighs. He slowly stopped the massage as if he sensed what I so desired him to do. He covered my legs and carefully slid his hands under my stomach to turn me over. He put one arm under my back and pulled me against him so he could raise the head of the bed. I wrapped my hands around his upper arms. He put a pillow behind my head and gently lowered me onto the bed. His face was so close to mine.

“And then?” He asked softly. His eyes burned in that dark, unfathomable way they had that night I’d touched him. I could feel his breath on my lips.

A sudden rap on the door. He scowled, turned his head, and barked “Yes, come in.” He stood, his back to me and the door. He threw his head back slightly and shoved his hands in his pockets. I felt amazed at his frustration and then I simply felt amazed.

“Ooh smells very fresh in here.” Dr. Jenkins said as he breezed into the room, chart in hand and nurse in tow. “Well, Dr. Hoffman, it seems you’ve contracted a very nasty bug from overseas. I spoke to Dr. Kamuzu this morning…”

From there he gave me a complete run down of what they were doing regarding my care while the nurse took blood pressure, temperature, pulse and moved my IV pole to its original position. I kept glancing at Barnabas who finally turned around and folded his arms as he listened to the doctor. My temperature read at 101.6, on the rise again Dr. Jenkins said from two hours ago. He ordered the nurse to come in every hour for temperature. He listened to my heart, checked my breathing, looked in my eyes and asked how I felt in general.

He ordered the nurse to send something for us to eat and said he’d be back in the morning to check on me. He looked at the container of balm and asked if it really worked.

Barnabas said with surprising calm, “It’s very therapeutic if it’s applied in the right manner.” He looked at me and grinned. I blushed and thought, “Oh, you wicked man.”

After the doctor left, he sat in the chair and regarded me in his usual searching manner and said, “I’m sorry, Julia. I really don’t mean to let things get out of hand. I would never do anything to jeopardize our friendship, you know that don’t you? I simply wanted to alleviate your pain as you did mine.” He smiled. "And I couldn't resist a bit of teasing."

“I know.” I said and smiled, doing my best to be light. “I must admit, I do enjoy all this attention.”

“You’re like me, you’re not accustomed to attention. It’s a pity, really, out of all the people I know, I think you deserve to be given attention. You’re an attractive woman and I can’t fathom why more men aren’t interested in you.”

I laughed, “Oh, Barnabas. Thank you for the compliment but I’m too old.” I sighed and said, “Most men want some pretty, young thing to worship them. Doctors might be interested in me, but I’ve been down that road. I never met a doctor who didn’t have his eye on the nurses.”

“I’ve heard it said there is someone for everyone, maybe you’ve not met him yet.” He said sincerely looking down at his hands.

“I doubt he exists. I lost my chance a long time ago.”

He answered another knock at the door. He brought in a tray, “There’s always another chance. You’ve seen that with me.”

“It’s different for men. As women age, their chances fall with each passing year. It’s not that way with men and they know it. Older men know they can attract younger women. I’m pretty much past that threshold.”

“Are you?” Barnabas poured coffee for me, “Then most men are idiots if they can’t see the charms of an older woman, aren’t they?”

“You’re being kind.”

“Am I? Since when have you known me to be kind?"

“You can be. I’ve seen your kindness with children, especially.”

“Don’t change the subject, dear lady. Older women have a mystery about them. Elizabeth has that mystery about her, and you are more mysterious than she. I think I know you, but I don’t. Mystery is alluring, beguiling, and a puzzle to be solved.”

“And do you want to solve my puzzle?” I teased.

He grinned, “I don’t think I can. Eat your soup before it gets cold.”

“Eat your sandwich before it gets stale. Talk about changing the subject. Really Barnabas.”

He grinned, took a bite of the sandwich and laid it down. “It was stale before it got here.”

He drank his tea, instead. My soup tasted flat, but I ate it knowing I needed some nutrition for the ordeal ahead. I drank my coffee and looked at Barnabas’s profile in the dim light of the room. The bruised appearance around his deep-set eyes was fading. I really couldn’t imagine my life without him. I settled into the bed and pulled the light blanket and sheet over me. I closed my eyes and slept.

+++

I had a horrible nightmare. I dreamed I stood on the edge of Widow’s Hill in a snowstorm. The wind whipped me, frozen bits of icy rain pelleted my face and bare legs. I heard voices in the wind telling me I had no hope and to throw myself off the cliff. I looked down at the snow-covered beach below, the dark, jagged rocks stood out like black teeth waiting to devour me. But I didn’t want to kill myself, I felt compelled to jump by those voices in the wind. An unseen force held my arms, pulling me over the cliff. I fought it with all my might, screamed at it to leave me alone. Then I felt those arms again, the demon lover’s arms that held me in that cradling embrace in my bed, pulling me into that warm body. I fell and kept falling.

I woke with a jolt and looked wildly around me. Barnabas held one of my cuffed hands, “It’s all right. You’re in a safe place. “

Both my hands had been cuffed to the bed rails and a large ice pack lay across my chest.

I said, “I’m freezing.”

“I know. It’s needed to get your temperature down; it shot up to 105 just a little while ago. The nurse has gone to get the doctor. You’re going to be all right.”

“Widow’s Hill, I was falling from Widow’s Hill.” I murmured, felt his hand tighten on mine and lost consciousness.

+++

I woke to the sun shining through the open blinds in my room. I felt very weak and became aware of the warmth at my side and on my arm. I looked down and saw Barnabas’s dark hair, his head lying against me.

“Barnabas.” I croaked; my voice very hoarse.

He turned his head and looked at me with sleepy eyes, then they brightened, and he smiled, “You’re finally awake.”

He poured water for me, slipped his arm under my back, and cradled me so I could drink it.

I said, “I’m so weak.”

“You’ve been very ill, dear lady.” He lowered me to my pillow. I looked up at the IV pole and saw several bottles hanging there and an oxygen tent had been pushed to the back of the head of the bed.

“What?” I asked as I looked around the room and saw bouquets of flowers and cards. An open suitcase sat in an extra chair.

“You had what Dr. Jenkins called a secondary infection which caused you to go into a coma.” His eyes were so large and sincere. “I thought I had lost you.”

“I’ve been under the best care here, I’m sure.”

“They talked of sending you to Bangor at one point, to the hospital there, but thought the trip might prove too much for you. You were that ill, Julia.” His expression conveyed the dept of his concern for me.

“How long have I been here?”

“It’s eighteen days today.”

“I didn’t know I was in this world for seventeen days.” I sighed.

“I didn’t think you were going to wake up. You slipped into a coma that night your fever crept so high. When the fever broke and you didn’t wake, Dr. Jenkins became very concerned and ran tests. You had developed a strep infection along with the fever.”

The whole time he told me this he looked down and rubbed each finger of my hand ever so gently with his thumb. He continued, “When they told me last night that you were showing signs of waking ...I’ve never been so relieved in my life.”

“You’ve been here the whole time?” I asked a little incredulously.

“I promised I wouldn’t leave you.”

“But…”

“That’s what friends do, Julia.”

I smiled at him and grasped his hand. He raised my hand to his lips and kissed it, then he leaned over and kissed my forehead. I was pleasantly surprised by this show of affection. The happiness he felt was plain to me.

He leaned out the door and called the nurse. I could hear him speaking to her and then he came to my side, looked at me as if checking I was really awake, picked up the phone and called Collinwood and the Old House. Dr. Jenkins came in smiling, medical chart in hand and a pretty nurse in tow.

For the next three days, visitors came and went with flowers and food. Elizabeth, Carolyn, and Maggie brought a picnic basket full of good things and happy chatter. Willie brought a large thermos of his chicken soup and looked almost as relieved as Barnabas had, giving me a kiss on either cheek. Quentin, Roger, and David came with flowers, sweets, and hugs. Barnabas never left. He asked someone to stay with me, though there was no need, while he showered in the small bathroom meant for my room’s use. Elliot sat with me one day and his visit most enlightened me.

“Julia, I must tell you, you are a much-loved woman with the Collins Family. I think one Collins in particular loves you more than all the rest.”

“What are you talking about? Don’t guess at things like that.” I scolded him and he held his hands up.

“Tell me about Adam. How is he?” I wondered since I’d missed the blood samples Dr. Kamuzu had sent.

“He is holding his own right now. I wanted you to know that Barnabas had Willie bring those samples to me. I spoke with the university biology professor, and he had slides made of them and stored some as whole blood. They have an exceptionally good refrigeration system, and the samples should still be fine when you get a chance to look at them.” He stood and walked to the window, resisting the urge to smoke in the hospital. “I must tell you that Adam suffers from something right now that puzzles me. He’s developed a sensitivity to sunlight and for a man who has business in desert countries, that’s not a good thing. He’s gone to Europe right now for business. He’s very connected to Barnabas’s emotions also which are, frankly, driving him mad.”

“What?” I asked and felt confused. “Barnabas is very happy right now. He’s glad all this sickness has passed, and he seems to me to be like his old self.”

“He may appear that way on the surface. Julia, you’re a psychologist, you should know that many men can put up a very convincing facade. Barnabas is a master at doing just that. His nonchalant, gallant, genteel exterior hides a turbulent and passionate soul. Adam can tell you our friend is torn apart by two immensely powerful emotions right now.” Elliot glanced toward the bathroom door, “He’s afraid, for one thing, very afraid and he’s…”

Barnabas entered the room. He buttoned his vest and adjusted his tie. He looked at Elliot, “Well, giving away secrets, are you?”

“I was trying to, but you interrupted me.”

“I don’t think Julia should be burdened with secrets right now, she’s recuperating.” He glanced toward me; his hazel eyes green in the sunlight that spilled into the room.

“And?” Elliot raised an eyebrow at Barnabas.

“And when it’s time to reveal these secrets, I will tell her myself. May I ask that this is understood?”

Elliot chuckled, “Of course.” He turned toward me, “I guess you will have to wait a while longer before you know.” He hesitated as he looked at me with the utmost compassion, “It’s really not bad, not bad at all.”

Elliot left after giving Barnabas a healthy clap on the shoulder. Barnabas stood in the middle of the room and stared at the door for a few seconds before he gave me a sidelong look. He looked away and back in a manner that told me he didn’t know what to say at the moment.

“What’s bothering you?” I asked when he stood beside the bed.

“What did Elliot tell you? “

“He said you are a master at hiding your feelings. That’s nothing new to me. He also told me Adam is noticing some very stormy emotions coming from you right now. Anything you care to share?” I asked carefully. I expected him to turn his back and make some self-deprecating remark.

Instead, he said, “Yes, I have been feeling some strong emotions lately. I’m trying to understand them myself right now.” He frowned and then looked at me, “I can’t separate what's true from what’s not at the moment. I just need a little time, I think.”

I looked at him astonished that he shared this insight. He never shared anything too personal about his feelings. I said, “I think I know how you’re feeling. I’ve had a little trouble lately telling what’s imagined and what’s real in my own emotions.”

“Oh?”

“I’m not telling if you don’t. “

“Then I won’t tell either, at least until I get things sorted in my own heart and mind.” He turned and stood in front of the window. A small mirror hung on the wall at the side of my bed. From the angle he stood, I could see a clear reflection of his face’s profile.

“And when you do, will you tell me?”

“Yes, I will. You will be the very first to know.” He closed his eyes. Unfulfilled desire, deep, passionate, and controlled, crossed his features and shone in his eyes when he opened them. Another emotion, so tender my heart began to ache, love softened his eyes and made them dark.

I turned my gaze away. Despite what we’d shared over the past few weeks, the intimate moments, the endearing words, the fire that sparked and died between us, I couldn’t believe he felt what I saw at that moment was for me. I knew him too well. There had to be a lover and what he felt, those turbulent emotions, could only mean what he felt for another, not me.

+++

We arrived at the Old House around noon on the fourth day after I had recovered from the coma. On the ride home from Collinsport, we talked about a few things that had happened while I was in the hospital.

He’d had the stables rebuilt and the stable yard cleared of overgrowth. He said, “That’s what I was doing in Bangor the day you fell ill, I was purchasing horses. I bought a young stallion and mare. I’m hoping for a foal in the spring perhaps. I can think of no better way to teach David and Amy how to love and care for animals other than horses.”

“That sounds wonderful. I didn’t have much contact with animals like horses as a child, but I did have a cat I was very fond of; his name was Moonshine.”

“Was he black?”

“No, sort of a silvery gray which reminded me of the moon. My mother thought it was an awful name because of the illicit liquor.”

He laughed, a wonderful sound. “Willie named the horses; the stallion Blaze after the Sherlock Holmes story “Silver Blaze” and he named the mare Rose because she is a sorrel.”

“You let Willie name the horses, that’s generous of you.”

“Why not? Willie has fallen in love with both and takes very good care of them. I couldn’t ask for a better groom. He worked on a ranch when he was a teenager, I believe.”

“What would we do without Willie?”

Barnabas smiled a little sadly, “I wouldn’t want to lose him. He’s been very helpful and good to me over the years even though, at one time…”

I stopped him by saying, “The past is past, if we stay where we are and don’t try to go back and change it, then there’s little to be done about it.”

“I sometimes wish I could go back and change a great many things about the past I’ve lived in the last few years.” He said with remorse.

“What would you change?”

He sighed deeply, his eyes fixed on the road, “The way I treated Willie of course. The way I treated you and Maggie. I’ve regretted mistreating the three of you the most and of course, David. What kind of monster does those things?”

“You’ve explained. A monster does those things but you’re not a monster now, you’re not the same person anymore. I’m not the same person I was then. I wanted fame and fortune then because I was convinced, I could discover the secrets to immortality. I wanted the accolades few women in my field acquire. I thought what a wonderful thing, to be like a goddess.” I laughed a little.

“I can’t speak for you, but my delusions nearly ruined me. I was blind in so many ways. I feel I’m finally starting to see.”

He smoothly turned the wheel and guided the car through the gates of the Old House. We drove up the long drive and he parked at the front entrance where the door opened into the sitting room and stairway.

I still felt weak. Barnabas walked to my door and opened it. Before I could protest, he swept me off my feet, carried me inside and sat me in an armchair in the sitting room in front of a blazing fire. He’d been so attentive that I didn’t know how to respond to him. I wondered why he didn’t want to leave me alone not for a single moment when he had other interests. He had Willie take his suitcase upstairs after he’d served tea.

As he poured tea for us, I said, “Alright, what is going on with you?”

He handed my cup to me and regarded me with a steady gaze, “I don’t know what you mean?”

“Oh yes, you do. I know there’s someone you're interested in. You can tell me.” I said even though I really didn’t want to know.

“No, I can’t.” He said and took a sip of tea. He set his cup down and leaned back in his chair, avoiding my gaze.

“Why?”

He stood, his back to me which meant he didn’t want to talk about it. Then, hesitantly with well-chosen words, he said, “I don’t have a satisfactory answer for you, at least, not yet. I’m still trying to understand my feelings.”

“It’s obvious you love this woman.” I said, trying to cover my own dismay at the thought of another Victoria or Maggie.

He hesitantly said, “Yes, I do. I love her in a way I never dreamed I would love again. She’s extremely important to me but I just can’t take the risk right now of revealing my feelings to her.”

“But, why? Who is she? I can talk to her, open the path so to speak.”

“She really does seem to have no clue how I feel about her. I don’t want to frighten her away. I can’t tell you who she is, just yet, but I will as soon as I deal with the issue of the ghost in this house.”

“The ghost?”

“Yes, the one I feel is Angelique. I’m almost sure it’s her.” He stopped and considered his words for a moment, “I’m very much in love with this woman but I can’t risk letting her know how I feel because I sincerely hope she may accept me, love me in return. If this entity is Angelique, she will do everything she can to destroy her. I can’t let that happen, not again.”

“You think keeping the identity of this woman a secret will protect her?”

“Yes, I do.” He turned to me, his eyes pleading, “You are my best friend, Julia, my savior, my confidant. “He looked down and continued, “You are so...so many things to me. I know I have no right to ask this of you but please, please help me endure this torture. Some of my actions may seem strange to you but know, there's a reason for all I do.”

I stood and went to him. He embraced me tightly, wrapping me in his arms. He swore under his breath, “Oh, God.”

I said, “Dear man, I will.” How could I turn him away when he was in this untenable situation.? Whoever this woman happened to be, I hoped she would realize the dept of his love for her and return that love. He deserved real love after all these lonely years.

He embraced me until we could hear Willie walking toward the stairs. He let me go reluctantly and said “Thank you” in my ear.

The three of us spent the rest of the evening together in the kitchen at the long table. After dinner, Willie talked about the horses and the new refrigerator. I talked about Adam and his emerging vampirism. Barnabas remained silent for the most part and listened to us, interjecting a comment here and there. I became tired early and wanted to go to bed.

He put his arm around me as we climbed the stairs. He said, “Lean against me.”

I did. My legs felt a little weak and unsteady. We entered my room and I saw candles had been lit along with kerosene lamps and a fire crackled on the hearth. The room invited us to enter. I noticed right away that a crucifix had been hung on the wall over my bed. A cross sat on the mantle, and another hung over the door.

Barnabas discerned my thought, “I spoke to Elliot while you were in the hospital, and he made several recommendations to me as to how I could keep this entity from disturbing us while we sleep.” He walked me to the rocking chair so I could sit and continued, “Hence, the crosses and you will also find salt poured along the windowsills to keep this presence outside the house. Elliot performed a minor exorcism on the house to chase out whatever is here while it’s still relatively weak.”

“Then why are you so afraid of this thing?”

“I know Angelique. A little salt and a cross or two are not going to keep her out.”
“I still think you’re worrying too much.” I kicked off my shoes.

He sat on the edge of the bed, “I hope I am. The next few days will tell. I want you to do something.”

“Oh? What’s that?”

“Tell me about any dreams you may have that disturb you in a way as to make you doubt yourself or me. This is one way I can discern if this entity is threatening you.”

“Alright, I promise I will if you do the same for me.”

“I promise.” He reached across and took my hand. “I’m glad you’re home. May I help you get ready for bed?”

I blushed and shook my head. He smiled and rose to leave but I stopped him by saying, “Please, stay with me for a while and let's talk. I just want to talk about normal things, not ghost or Adam or vampires, just everyday things.”

“Alright,” We talked about places we’d visited and people we’d known. I never knew he traveled so extensively as a young man. When he left to go to his room, two hours had passed, and I got ready for bed. I laid down and slept the first really good night's sleep I’d had in a long time.

The previous incident happened the night of the eighth and I’ve spent hours writing the most accurate account I could give of everything that has happened within the last two months. Tomorrow will start a new day.

(To Be Continued)