Subj: The Scent of Lilacs No More, Chapter 6
Date: 6/11/99 1:06:10 AM Central Daylight Time
From: Beverly LaCroix
Chapter 6
Power of the Three Collins Cousins
"WILLIE!" Barnabas roared as he walked in the double doors of the Old House.
He held Quentin with one arm around his waist, and the other holding onto his arm, and he had wrapped his cape around him, so he wouldn't get wet, and also he seemed to be very cold. He was having some sort of violent seizures periodically. Barnabas wasn't sure what was causing the seizures, and he was saddened by the fact that Quentin seemed to verge on insanity, and he could only guess as to the cause, but that wouldn't help Quentin.
"Yes, Barnabas, what" --
"Willie, go to Collinwood and get Julia. Tell her to bring her medical bag." Barnabas said.
"Barnabas, what happened to him?" Willie asked with a touch of pity in his voice.
"He is the victim of a vampire," Barnabas answered controlling his rage.
"Who?" Willie asked.
"Roxanne." Barnabas said, sadness masking his eyes.
"Oh, Barnabas, I am so sorry," Willie said, as he was walking out the door.
"He is mine, Father!" she had exclaimed with defiance all over her face, when Barnabas had demanded she release Quentin. Barnabas had been surprised at the term "father," but had no time to question her. He needed to get Quentin away from her. David had not exaggerated Quentin's condition. He had not been prepared for it, he thought he had, but the dark circles under his eyes, the holes on the side of neck, that had been ravaged like a wild animal had gotten a hold of him and tried to chew him up to try and get more substance. It must have been incredibly painful for his cousin to be chewed and bitten like that. Barnabas was horrified at how Roxanne would draw the vein out through the holes and they looked ripped and ravaged. What sort of animal was she? A rogue? He didn't know.
"RELEASE HIM!!" Barnabas had roared, his eyes tinged with red, and his fangs beginning to descend, and before Roxanne could utter another word, she found herself flying through the air, and hitting the wall so hard she threatened to go through it. She had gotten up, and went back at Barnabas prepared to destroy him. Not caring that Barnabas was her maker, all she knew was she was not going to give up Quentin. His blood was intoxicating, and she wasn't about to give him up because Barnabas said so. She was probably stronger than he was. She fed regularly on human blood, she didn't think he did. Well, the showdown would begin she thought as she flew at him, as he was walking out the door with the unconscious form of Quentin. He felt her coming, was prepared for her, she didn't see him swirl around, but she felt his powerful grip on her neck. Barnabas placed Quentin gently on the floor, never letting go of Roxanne. His eyes were blood red, the rage and anger were consuming him, and he tightened his grip on her neck.
She felt herself begin to pass out. She had underestimated Barnabas. She couldn't loosen herself from his grip, then he loosened his grip. And in a cold deadly tone of voice, his powerful hand still holding her throat, said, "you try that again, and I will not only break your neck" and in an action so quick the human eye couldn't have fathomed it, he picked a wooden chair up, and with a single movement he broke the leg off, and held it to her heart, "I will stake you myself. Do you understand me?"
Roxanne couldn't talk. She knew she had to obey him, and not because of his threats, not that she didn't think he wouldn't do it, it was because he was her master, and he had commanded her. She was powerless, and it angered her. What angered her more was that she wanted him, desired him. Well she would take care of that.
Quentin was intoxicating because of his strange and unusual immortal blood, that had the taste of the dawn and a hint of sunshine. He seemed so innocent, and so sweet. No, she would not let the strange handsome Collins cousin go, because of Barnabas. He had done enough to her, and he didn't even remember her. She had loved him more than the stars and the heavens. She would have killed for him, anything he had asked she would have be willing to do, but he had abandoned her, and she would not ever let herself forget the feeling of aloneness she felt the night she rose as a vampire.
What was that scent? Lilacs. Just a trick of the air she thought. Then settled down to think of how she was going to get Quentin from Barnabas, and knew there would only be one sure way. "Sebastian," she called softly.
Barnabas opened the door to Josette's Room, and lit a candle, when he heard a voice, he swung around to see who it was.
"Barnabas," David said.
"David, you startled me. What are you doing here?" asked Barnabas gently.
"I came here to wait for you to see if you found Quentin, and I hid up here so Willie wouldn't find me. Barnabas, did you find him" David asked pensively.
"Yes, I did," Barnabas answered him softly.
David became alarmed, "is he -- is he okay?" David asked hesitatingly.
"He's alive, David, but he's not okay. You described his condition accurately," Barnabas answered him.
Walking out of the room, leaving David there to wait, as Barnabas brought Quentin in and lay him on the bed. Barnabas took his cape, and covered Quentin with a blanket David had pulled out of the cupboard in the hall. David looked stricken as he tucked the blanket around Quentin's shoulders.
"Cousin Barnabas, he's bleeding. What are those tears and rips in his neck?" David asked.
"I don't know, David." Barnabas answered him evasively.
David was pushing Quentin's hair back out of his face, and told Barnabas he needed some water. Barnabas told him quickly to look in the pitcher on the side table, and David poured it in the matching basin put there by Josette almost 200 years ago. Opening the drawer of the table by the bed, David retrieved an old old hankerchief and put it in the basin, and squeezed it out a little, and began to bathe Quentin's face.
Barnabas watched David as he bathed Quentin's face,
and thought how tender David could be. He hadn't realized that David and Quentin
were that close, anymore than he had realized until tonight how much David
really trusted him to take care of him and his family.
"Barnabas, what's wrong with Quentin? He's shaking, and he's crying to make it stop." David said slowly and softly, rinsing the hankerchief, so it would be cool.
Barnabas walked quickly to Quentin's side, and told David to go see if Julia was on her way.
After David had left, Barnabas took Quentin's wrists, and in a quiet stern voice commanded him to look in his eyes. Quentin obeyed Barnabas, his voice was consuming him, he didn't want it to stop, it was more powerful than the visions. It was soothing him, then he heard Barnabas ask him what caused the visions, and why were they so painful.
"You have to tell me, you know that, don't you?"
"Yes. They're not painful. It's the pleasure. All the time, pleasure. The killing, the blood, the consumation, it's so pleasurable, I can't stop it though. It's too strong, Quentin answered him in a voice that was threatening to get hysterical.
Barnabas didn't see David as he entered the room, when he asked the next question, "Quentin, where is this deadly sadistic pleasure coming from?"
"You," Quentin answered him.
David's eyes widened as he heard the answer, and he didn't move, as Quentin told Barnabas, "Roxanne, she's like you, Barnabas."
To be continued...