Subj: The Scent of Lilacs No More, Chapter 5
Date: 6/10/99 8:28:54 PM Central Daylight Time
From: Beverly LaCroix
Chapter 5
The Scents of Lilac and Blood
David could smell the scent of lilacs, and he knew
Daphne was here. Why was she here? He had to tell Barnabas about Quentin. She
was standing behind Barnabas, he just knew it, but he was trapped in Barnabas'
glare. Now, he was afraid, not of Barnabas, but of Daphne. Why didn't she want
Barnabas to know about what was happening to Quentin? Maybe she didn't know,
and she wanted to find out. Maybe she was responsible, and didn't want anyone
to help him, David didn't know, but the presence of Daphne was frightening him
enough to question his being here. He'd leave, and just go home, he wouldn't
even talk to Barnabas. Barnabas didn't want to talk to him anyway, so why should
he explain anything to him -- because
the vision of Quentin wouldn't quite go away.
Strengthening his resolve not to give in to the demands of the beautiful ghost hovering in back of Barnabas, David wouldn't take his eyes from Barnabas, even though he was glaring, he somehow knew safety was in those eyes. He would just start to talk, and would not stop or look away from Barnabas until he was finished.
"David, what is it?" the soft resonant voice of his cousin asked.
David just looked at him like he was trying to make up his mind about something, and Barnabas said, "Would you like to go downstairs and talk?" and started to walk away. David put his hands on Barnabas' forearms and stopped him, never breaking his gaze. Barnabas stopped and looked at David, and said soothingly to David, "talk."
And David started talking, telling Barnabas about Quentin, how no one at Collinwood had seen him for a week or two, and how he had ignored his and Hallie's attempts to visit him. David told Barnabas he knew that Quentin was there, he had heard furniture falling over. He had heard the door closing, and had heard Quentin scream out on more than one occasion. He decided something was wrong when he heard Quentin talking in an angry tone, as if he were talking to someone, and that's when he decided to hide, and see if Quentin would come out the back way from the West Wing. David's intention had been to talk to him, but when he had seen his condition, it had frightened him to badly, so he had decided to come and talk to Barnabas.
David was near tears by the time he had finished telling Barnabas his story, but cheered up when he became aware that the scent of lilacs was no more.
Barnabas had listened to David very carefully, studying his face, and eyes to make sure he wasn't making this up for whatever reason, satisfied he wasn't, he let go of David, and they by silent agreement walked down the stairs to the drawing room where Julia was. Seeing Julia, David looked at Barnabas, and Barnabas glanced at him as if he could tell what he wanted without words. "Julia, would you mind going back to Collinwood, and telling my Cousin Elizabeth that David is here, and he's all right. I will bring him home in a while." It was a command, not a question. Barnabas saw the relief on David's face as Julia said, "Of course, I will. Where's Willie?"
"Oh, he left, Dr. Hoffman." David said.
"Can you see your way back alone or would you like for me to escort you, Julia?" Barnabas asked concerned.
"Oh, no, I'll be fine, Barnabas. I have the car," Julia answered, grabbing her raincoat. It was raining as usual, and it looked like it was going to be a downpour.
"David, it isn't unusual for Quentin to be gone for days and weeks, why were you so curious about him this time?" Barnabas asked.
"Because he promised my father he would be around until he came back from Europe, and if not he'd let you know he had to leave. You don't believe me, do you? You think I'm making this up. Well, let me ask you something, Cousin Barnabas, when was the last time you saw Quentin?"
"I haven't seen him for awhile, but that's not unusual." Barnabas said.
"But he promised my father, if he left he would let you know, so you could look after Cousin Elizabeth and Collinwood until either Quentin or my father came back. And he didn't do that, did he." David said angrily.
"No, he didn't, David. And I do believe you. I'm just puzzled." Barnabas said.
"Are you going to help him, Cousin Barnabas? He just looks terrible. What if he dies?" David questioned.
"David, you know I will do what I can to help him. Maybe it wasn't as bad as you thought it was when you saw him." Barnabas told the boy placatingly.
"Barnabas, it was worse. I can't put into words how he looked, and he had an odor like a penny, only real --" David said groping for words to explain to his cousin.
"Blood," Barnabas said softly as if to himself.
"Yes, Barnabas, blood," David said, an unusual look of understanding passed between the two cousins.
"David, I will see what I can do to make sure Quentin is okay, and if he needs help, I will see that he gets it. And don't worry, you did the right thing by coming here and telling me." Barnabas told the boy with fondness.
"Thank you, Barnabas. And one other thing, please don't tell anyone until you know he's all right. He might hate me, and I wouldn't want that." David said pleadingly.
"You have my word, David. Now, I'd better get you back to Collinwood," Barnabas said.
Barnabas walked David to the doors and told him he wasn't going in, he wanted to see and if he could find Quentin. Not knowing where to begin, he stood silent for a moment, and then he was gone.
Barnabas disappeared and reappeared in the West Wing. Not needing any sort of light due to his superior vampiric vision, seeing in the dark wasn't a problem for him. He was assaulted by the smell, and especially the strong coppery smell of blood. He was able to sift it out from the other odors. He saw the open brandy bottle, and two or three other ones that were broken. Furniture was turned over, a small table was broken, and the phone was pulled out of the wall. Dirty laundry was piled in the middle of the hall that lead from the sitting room to Quentin's bedroom. The bedroom was like a bad dream. Blood was spattered on the wall, and the floor, a razor blade was thrown carelessly in the middle of the bed. Barnabas wondered if whatever was going on with Quentin was so terribel he had tried to take his own life, only to be laughed at by the Portrait, the Portrait that would not let him die. Shaking off the morbid thoughts, Barnabas walked out of the room.
Standing in the middle of the sitting room, Barnabas
concentrated, and focussed on the odor of the blood, blocking out the smell
of Quentin's. It was very minute, but there was something very familiar about
it. What was it? He needed to see Quentin, but he wondered if that would do
any good. It sounded as though he was descending into the madness that he and
Julia had seen in 1995. Was this whatever it was, causing it? Walking over to
Quentin's desk, he picked up a candle, lit it, and looked into it, he blew it
out, and concentrated on the blood he had smelled, found it on a shirt that
Quentin had carelessly discarded and thrown it behind the woodbox on the fireplace
grate. Taking one of his sharp nails, Barnabas scraped a minute scraping of
the blood, he relit the candle, held his fingernail up in front of the fire,
the speck of blood took on life, and the windows flew open, and Barnabas quickly
changed, and he was flying in the form of a bat, when it disappeared.
The form of the candlelight with the speck of blood in the middle. Barnabas
had changed into human form, and looked around him. He knew this place. It was
Rose Cottage, or the Old McGrueder place as it was now known. Barnabas listened,
and he walked up to the front door of the old mansion, and was stopped by Sebastian
Shaw. "You can't go in there," Sebastian ordered him.
"Why not?" Barnabas asked him, flinching when he saw that Shaw had pulled a gun on him. Right in front of Shaw's eyes Barnabas disappeared, and reappeared inside the house. Walking up the stairs to where the heatbeat was coming, opening the door, he saw Quentin, and he was sickened by the wasted sight of his life-loving cousin. It was unbelievable that this wasted man was the laughing, fun loving Quentin he had seen how long was it? He would have to take better care of his cousin from now on, Barnabas promised himself.
Quentin didn't see Barnabas or hear Barnabas enter the room, and neither did Roxanne. She was so gorged and high from Quentin's blood, she had almost completely drained him tonight. She couldn't get enough of him. She wanted more, and she entered the room and grabbed Quentin, and was getting ready to rape him again, both physically and vampircally. That's what it had become. No love, Quentin too weak to object by the end of her first feeding of the evening. Roxanne noticed he was beginning to act kind of weird, but what did she care, as long as she had his blood for eternity.
"LET HIM GO!" a powerful voice from the past commanded.
To be continued...