The Consequences of Falling
By Nicole Pruitt

Rating: MA | Status: Completed | Genre: Drama/Romance | Series: None
Summary: Original Series. Who will be there to catch you when you fall?

Warnings: This fic contains sexually explicit themes and is for adult audiences only. Do not read if you are under 18 years of age.

Go to: Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4

Part 2

People wish to be settled; only as far as they are unsettled is there any hope for them.
-Ralph Waldo Emerson

December 2, 1974, Constance's and Quentin's apartment, Noon

The high mid-day sun streamed into the room through partially opened drapes, illuminating every inch of the sparsely furnished bedroom. The moment light pierced the lids of Constance DuVane, she flew from the bed and closed the draped, turning day into pitch black night. She knew that she should make the effort to begin the day, but she had no urge to do so. Besides, Quentin had seen no need to awaken. She followed his example, curling herself into his side and attempting sleep once more.

It had been over two years since she had taken that fateful trip to Collinwood. It was two years since she had left, her secret exposed but Quentin Collins at her side. It was a fair deal in her mind. That was not to say that they always had an easy relationship, but fights were rare and brief. the fights did not really matter. Constance and Quentin hung together as if there was no one else in the world to turn to. In a few years, save a few people, there would be no one else.

The phone jarred Constance from her trance, the horrible reverberations ringing throughout the room. Quentin answered it and Constance conformed and contorted as he sat up in bed. "Hello," he mumbled, slowly but surely coming out of sleep. "Oh, hi Liz. Yes, we're well. We just returned from Greece last night...or was it this morning? No, no problem. Oh, that's wonderful. You want us to what? Well, I'll talk it over with Constance and get back to you. Is that all right? Good! Well, I'll get back to you as soon as I can. Goodbye."

Constance sat up next to him, resting her head on his shoulder and wrapped her arms around his waist. "What did Liz Stoddard want?" she asked through a yawn.

"Carolyn's engaged."

"That's nice. Too bad I don't care."

"Okay," laughed Quentin, "but she's going to be married on Christmas Day and she wants us to attend."

Constance groaned and fell further into Quentin. She did not want to go back to Collinwood, especially not to see Carolyn Stoddard's wedding. "How important is this to you?"

"They are still my family," he said. "I feel like I should be there."

"Then we should go," said Constance, the words almost choking her as she said them.

"You don't have to go if you don't want to."

"I don't want to go but I can't send you there alone. They'll chain you up in the basement and never let you leave again. I'll have to hurt people, Quentin, and not the fun way. You don't want that?" She waited for him to stop laughing before continuing. "Is Angelique still there?"

"Roger and 'Cassandra' divorced last year," said Quentin, amusement creeping back into his voice as he spoke. "A few days after the divorce was finalized, a woman named Madeline Rochelle moved into the cottage. She's blonde, blue-eyed, and the supposed sister of a world famous writer who recently married into the family. I'm fairly sure you know who she is."

Constance was angry. She did not mind is she and Angelique were to play sisters again. She only wanted to be warned ahead of time so that they could synchronize their lies. "So Angelique has moved into the cottage and we'll actually have to stay in Collinwood when we go. Oh, sister mine will be paying for that one."

"The west wing is still pretty much mine. You won't have to deal with anyone you don't want to, you know?"

"I know. I don't mean to be such a bitch, but I just don't like the place," explained Constance.

"It won't be so bad," Quentin reassured her. "We won't even be there a week. We'll be there three days, max."

Constance smiled and kissed him, pleased to have her way. "Do you think it's a shotgun wedding?" she asked deviously.

"No!" Quentin thought it over a moment and smiled conceding. "Well, it might be a shotgun wedding. Liz did say it was a short courtship."

"No this could be interesting. For once, I'm going to be an innocent bystander in a major family disaster and I'll be able to watch it with the only person who really matters to me." Constance reached across Quentin and grabbed the telephone. "I'll call Liz if you don't mind."

"What's brought on this change of heart?" asked Quentin, his hand easing up her thin white shirt.

"Come on! No one can resist watching the carnage after a car wreck. And we get to see the actual event. I wouldn't miss this for the world." Constance clamped her hand over the receiver and turned back to Quentin, pleased to see her enthusiasm reflected in his eyes. "Your hand is so warm! I love it. But if you want me to sound sober with your cousin, you ought to remove it or she'll be hearing things I'm sure she hasn't heard in quite awhile."

December 11, 1974, The Old House, 6:00 PM

"Do you ever visit her?" asked Julia.

Barnabas had no yearning to answer her. He could honestly say that he had not been to visit Angelique. He would not talk to her on the estate when he saw her. Barnabas went out of his way not to see or think about his past love.

Yet he could not get her out of his mind. He could not understand why she had remained on the estate. Barnabas had expected Angelique to leave the moment she divorced Roger. She had but then she returned, this time dressed as herself and brandishing a new pedigree. She came bearing gifts of flattery, a well rehearsed story, and a letter of recommendation from none other than Constance DuVane. "Constance is my younger half-sister. We have the same father," she had explained.

No one questioned her. Not even Roger doubted the identity of Madeline Rochelle, supposed relation of a world-renowned author and she herself a world traveler extraordinaire. Only Julia and Barnabas knew the truth and neither was willing to admit to it. No one would believe them. Who in their right mind would? The truth seemed improbable: Madeline Rochelle was actually Roger's immortal ex-wife and she could not be Constance DuVane's sister because Constance was not human. There was no reason to invite the past back inside. It would return on its own in due time.

Carolyn would return with her fiancé later than night. Constance and Quentin had agreed to come for the wedding, set to return to Collinwood on the 22nd. Angelique had been invited to the wedding. Why not? They all thought she was Constance's sister, and Constance had been a member of the family for at least 18 months. Barnabas could not fathom being able to live happily with a creature such as Constance; it surprised him that Quentin did it so easily. Yet they seemed so blissful the morning they left, seeming so perfectly enraptured with each other that he had been taken aback. When Constance looked at him, he did not see the anger he had expected, but a pity that seemed to stream from her entire being until Quentin took her hand and led her back to his room. Barnabas thought she was strange.

The atmosphere did not calm once they left. Julia seemed distant when he approached her, firmly brushing him aside to find something else to do. He knew that she knew the truth, knew that she was living a lie. For her, their lie seemed much worse when compared to Constance and Quentin, who were willing to forgive their extreme past mistakes to begin life anew. How could Julia begin a new life with Barnabas if he was not willing to leave the past behind? He knew she had resented the way he had doted on Maggie while she was pregnant with Andrew. "She has her own husband!" Julia had insisted bitterly. "Let Willie take care of her!" He should have listened.

Everyone seemed happier than Barnabas and Julia. After divorcing "Cassandra," Roger married his 26-year-old secretary, Cynthia Corey. Trophy wives had never been duller, but everyone accepted her, if only with a nod and a role of the eyes. Elizabeth seemed to be keeping a secret, but no one could guess what it was. David and Hallie began a relationship, becoming so brazen that Mrs. Johnson caught them making love on the dining room table. They had been lightly reprimanded and no one seemed to care. Their behavior was chalked up to teenage experimentation and soon forgotten.

Now Carolyn, after a nine-month trip through Europe, was returning with a fiancé no one had met. They only knew that his name was Josef Maugham and that he was an wealthy American living abroad. Apparently all this could be proven and Carolyn claimed to madly in love with him. Everyone claimed to be excited about the Christmas nuptials, planning a ceremony at a local church and a reception back at Collinwood. Barnabas was no sure if the family was truly pleased with the marriage. He suspected that they were all merely relieved to see her moving past the pain of losing Jeb. He only hoped it was not a quick fix.

"Are you listening to me?" demanded Julia.

Barnabas shook himself from his trance. "I'm sorry," he mumbled. "What did you say?"

"Are you ready for tonight?"

"What's tonight?"

"Carolyn and Josef are returning tonight. What have you been thinking about? You seem so distant."

Barnabas was almost relieved to hear the pathos in Julia's voice. It seemed like years since he had heard it. "I've just been thinking about everyone coming back. I don't know if I'm ready to deal with it."

"Don't you want to see them all again?"

"Yes, but I'm so worried about everyone. I wonder why Carolyn has chosen this man, why Roger has married such an airhead, why Elizabeth seems so distant, and why David and Hallie have become so careless. And I don't want to deal with Constance and Quentin. You know they have to be sorely disappointed with the way life must be turning out for them."

Julia rolled her eyes dramatically. She rose from the chair, and, for the first time, Barnabas saw the hardbound book in her hands. She placed in in his lap and knelt beside him. Barnabas stared blankly at the pages, not truly wanting to look at them. It was the latest collection of photography by Constance DuVane. Done in stark black and white, the picture he saw was a scene at the beach, the ghastly white sand contrasted against the opaque black waves and the palms rising from the ground like withered hands. Quentin seemed to be the center of the photograph, his bare feet grazing the ebbing tide as he sat staring into the sea. Unlike the tense, almost horrific, background, Quentin seemed strangely content. "It's a nice picture," Barnabas managed to murmur.

"I think it's beautiful," countered Julia. "Did you ever think Quentin would look that happy?"

"Looks can be deceiving."

"There are a few more pictures in the book of him and he seems in high spirits in each one. Isn't it odd to think that someone associated with this family can be happy? I'm actually curious to see he and Constance, especially after talking to them last week."

"You talked to Constance and Quentin?"

"Yes," said Julia. "You might be afraid of Angelique, but I'm not. I knew that she and Constance were close friends and I asked for their number. I was a little afraid to talk to them, considering the way Constance's secret had been exposed. But I called and Quentin answered warmly. He passed the phone to Constance and she was just as kind. I don't think they hate us anymore."

"You can't be sure," grumbled Barnabas.

"I don't think they're holding a grudge. If they were, they wouldn't be coming to Carolyn's wedding."

"But they'll only be here for three days. What do you think that means?"

Julia groaned but otherwise put up little protest. She rescued her book from Barnabas' lap and placed it out of his line of sight. "You can be pessimistic if you want. It's just sad to see you unwilling to see a long-time friend."

Barnabas felt like pushing the subject further but decided against it. "Shouldn't we leave for Collinwood?"

Cottage, 7:00 PM

Angelique stared deviously out the window, waiting patiently for Maggie to come for her. She was surprised by how excited she was to see Carolyn's return. Although she held no ill will towards the girl, Carolyn Stoddard Hawkes was far from her favorite person. Maybe it was the excitement of a coming wedding; maybe it was because Constance would be returning; or maybe it was the pure joy that she had yet more chances to make Barnabas Collins squirm in his shell, still unable to deal with his feelings for her after all this time. It was almost shameful to take joy in such a thing, although it did not stop her from doing so. She could almost hear Constance chiding her, saying "Leave the man alone! I admit that I don't like him but--God!--your obsession with him is sadomasochistic. Move away from him and find a better life!" She could gladly wait to hear that lovely speech.

At the same time, Angelique was ready to see her "sister" once again. She wished she had told Constance about the lie instead of leaking the information to Quentin, but she knew that Constance would understand. She had before. They had played this game before and people had believed it. At first glance, they looked completely different, Angelique's light set against Constance's dark. And yet they held themselves with the same refined grace and confidence that smoothed over the problems icy beauty and flawless charm could not. Everyone was so taken with them that they never looked at Constance as the cold-blooded murderess or Angelique as the conniving sorceress that they would have seen them as under differing circumstances. She knew that Constance would come around. She always did.

But now they would not be a twosome. Angelique had almost fallen out when she learned that Constance had married Quentin. "Neither of you obey the laws of nature!" she wrote them. "Why bother making it legal?"

"Why not?" Constance had written back. "It appeases his family and my publisher plus it gives me an excuse to travel around the equator with a beautiful subject and procrastinate a few months more. I'll get marvelous pictures!"

Angelique had laughed at the notion until she saw the book. As always, Constance made her subject and the scenery look outrageously brilliant, leaving one wanting to go to where she had photographed just to see if that was actually the way if looked. She had often marveled how something inhuman could mime and portray humanity so well. She could almost hate Constance if she hadn't known her history.

It was best not to think about Constance now. They were due in eleven days and no amount of cajoling could convince either of them to move any quicker. It was best to move on to Carolyn's future husband, which was sure to be top amongst a long line of winners.

Angelique had attempted to get a fix on the man in question, to use a little magic to see his face and learn about him before anyone else did. It mystified her that she could not. She soon figured that it was just as well. It was best to let the man have a grace period before reality destroyed his happiness. She could still remember when she had married Barnabas and how convinced she had been that things would end happily, that love would conquer all and cleanse her of the sins she had committed to obtain him. "I was such a fool!"

"Are you ready Madeline?"

"One moment, Maggie." Angelique put her things away and answered the door. For one of the first times ever, she was happy to see Maggie. With baby Andrew in tow, she now resembled the acquaintance she had become more than the threat she had once been. Of course Barnabas still adored her, but Maggie could care less about him. She had a husband and child; she no longer had time for her vampire lover. Angelique was going to enjoy the look on Barnabas' face when she walked in with Maggie. He was going to realize exactly what he was missing.

"I'm sorry I was late," said Maggie, hoisting the child onto this hip. "Andrew was giving me some trouble."

"Not this little guy," cooed Angelique. "I'll take him off your hands."

"Thanks! You don't mind do you?"

Angelique giggled as she took the equally giddy Andrew into her arms. The child reminded her so much of his mother with his large brown eyes and open smile. Even his once light blonde curls were beginning to morph into his mother's dark brown tresses. "This one will break hearts," she purred.

"Do you thing?"

"Look at him! This one was born to charm."

"If you say so," giggled Maggie. There was a brief silence as they walked the path to Collinwood, neither of them willing to talk. "So, when are Constance and Quentin coming?"

"They'll be here on the 22nd. I tried to talk her into coming earlier but Connie insisted that she had work to do."

"Didn't she just put out a book?"

"That was photography, which in her mind doesn't equate to work. It was basically a wedding present to her husband and a way to prove her talent. She's claiming to suffer from writer's block, which is a joke. Constance doesn't have problems: she creates them so she can solve them with solutions as creative as herself."

"Do you envy her?"

"No!" declared Angelique fervently. "Her mother refused to marry our father. After Constance's birth, she left her with our father and rarely saw her afterwards. No matter how wonderfully our father treated her, others would be equally as cruel. She was only close to our father and myself. When she went out on her own, she insisted on doing thins her own way. She went through much to have what she has and I don't envy her."

Angelique wondered if Maggie, or anyone besides she and Quentin, had ever seen Constance's pain, made on less real by her actual story. It didn't matter. Constance had often told the story of the horrible parent, doing so to ward anyone from poking too far into her origins. As soon as the story was told, she would fall back into her easy charm as if to put people at ease. Once the "understood," people seemed to enjoy her more. All Angelique was doing was setting the stage. "But she's doing well now."

"Of course. But what about you?"

"I'm doing better all the time, Maggie. Once I decide exactly what I want, I'll be even better."

They talk jovially as they approached Collinwood. To Angelique, the house seemed happy for the first time in ages. One could almost hear the voices ringing out into the evening, almost seeing their silhouettes plastered against windows. "I suppose it's a big deal when a Collins marries," remarked Angelique, a touch of bitterness infecting her voice.

"I suppose," murmured Maggie.

"Then we should enter. No need for us to be left out."

They entered and were immediately met by Willie. "Hello ladies," he said as he slipped his arm around Maggie's waist. "I was beginning to worry about you two."

"There's never anything to fear when your wife and child are with me." Angelique handed Willie his giddy son and began to walk towards the drawing room. "Are Carolyn and Josef here?"

"Yeah. They're being fawned over by Barnabas and Julia."

"Good! I'll be joining them." Angelique almost walked through the drawing room doors had she not caught the end of a conversation between Willie and Maggie. She walked back and asked, "What did you say?"

"It's just a shame that Constance can't be here," he said defensively. "A sister should be there for her brother."

"Brother? I'm not sure what you...oh God, Josef!" Angelique bolted into the drawing room, unaware and unconcerned by the eyes that nervously studied her. She was looking from face to face, only finding the familiar faces she did not want to see. In a far corner, she found them: Barnabas, Julia, Carolyn, and him. "Josef!"

"Madeline!" he sang, his deep voice harmoniously filling the room. "I had no idea you were here. Have you seen our sister?"

Angelique could not speak, not from any spell but from a lack of words. She had not expected to see him again yet there he stood. His slim six-foot frame was perfectly clothed in the deep blue suit, making him seem the gentleman he happened not to be. His thick brown hair seemed as immaculate has ever, framing his handsomely masculine face as nothing else could. His dark brown eyes shined down beneath thick brown brows. Yet it was his lips, sensual pink folds that begged to kiss and be kissed, that disarmed her. ("You like this don't you Angelique?" "Oh God, I do! Don't stop!") "I'm sorry," she finally mumbled. "Constance is with her husband."

"That sounds like our Connie! I didn't even know she had gotten married until I read about it in the papers. And now she refuses to show up for my engagement party! What are we to do about our sister?"

"Well, she is working," said Angelique.

"Of course." Josef kissed Carolyn's hand and moved towards Angelique, his eyes never wavering from hers. "Madeline, don't you think she works too much?"

"Our sister does as she pleases," growled Angelique. "As do you."

"And you."

"Nothing ever changes," she laughed quietly. She looked deep into Josef's eyes and confidently said, "You'll have to excuse me but I have to leave."

"Of course." Josef bent to kiss Angelique's cheek but stopped mid-kiss so that no one would notice. "I'll see you some other time."

"Maybe." Without making eye contact with anyone, Angelique fled the drawing room. Oblivious to Willie and Maggie, she ran to the phone and frantically dialed Constance's number. "Constance, are you there?"

"Yes, but not for long," answered Constance brusquely. "We're going out. What's wrong?"

"When are you coming to Collinsport?"

"The 22nd."

"How about coming by Friday?"

"That's not the 22nd."

"You're not listening," insisted Angelique. "You have to come as soon as possible."

"God! What's wrong?"

"I can't explain here. What do you say?"

After a long pause, Constance said, "I'll talk it over with Quentin but I'll come to you with or without him."

"No! Don't come alone," said Angelique.

"Do you really need us both?"

"You'll want him by your side."

"Are you trying to scare me?" asked Constance.

"I can't say now. Just come soon."

"I'll try."

Angelique voiced some sort of farewell and hung up abruptly. She looked over to see Willie and Maggie staring awkwardly at her. "I apologize for making such a scene."

"No need," said Maggie. She walked over to Angelique and asked, "Is it true?"

"Is what true?"

"Is Josef really Constance's brother?"

"Yes. He's his mother's son," she answered slowly.

December 13, 1972, Collinwood, 5:00 PM

"We're here." Quentin turned to Constance, and, with a glint of humor in his eyes, said, "I'm sorry."

Constance laughed in spite of everything she felt. "This is the moment of truth, isn't it? This moment will set the tone for the entire trip."

Quentin leaned in and kissed her. "I can't assuage your fears but I want to tell you that I think things will go well. It can't be all that bad."

Constance wanted to believe him but could not. She twisted her silver wedding bound mechanically around her finger but continued to hold Quentin's gaze. She knew that he was trying to understand her fears, however irrational they might be. Most of the time he succeeded, but Constance was pushing it this time. He was weary. So was she. "Okay," she finally said. "Lets go in. It seems that the world won't come to our car."

They left the car and walked to the Collinwood doors. Before she could knock, Angelique opened the doors. "Madeline!" sang Constance angrily. "How are you, my 'sister?'"

"No one's here but us. You can drop the 'sister' thing for awhile." Angelique looked around Constance and asked, "Did you bring Quentin?"

"I don't leave home without him." Tentatively, they walked inside, put at ease by the seeming normality of the house. Constance eyed Angelique, who seemed frazzled and tired. "What's wrong?"

"I still can't tell you."

"Dammit! This is ridiculous. I'm here. What's the...?" began Constance before a figure at the top of the stairs caught her eye. She watched as the figure slowly came into the light and began to descend the stairs. She reached out childishly for Quentin's hand, and, once she grabbed it, squeezed it so hard she was convinced she had cut off circulation to his fingers. "Josef."

"Connie, darling! How are you?" exclaimed Josef when he reached the ground floor. "Let me get a good look at you. It's been so long."

"No! Stay away." Constance moved behind Quentin and buried her face in his back. She could not look at Josef and she sure as hell could not let him touch her. "Nothing changes for us. If you've seen me once, you've seen me a thousand times."

"You're so cynical," sniped Josef, "but I suppose you always were. And I suppose you're my new brother in law? Is it Quentin or Grant if you don't mind me asking? You see, the papers referred to you as the 'elusive author Grant Douglas' but everyone here calls you Quentin."

"Grant Douglas is a pseudonym."

"All right, Quentin. It's great to finally meet you."

Constance was relieved to feel Quentin pull away from Josef. She walked out from behind Quentin and stood beside him, his hand firmly grasped in hers. "Josef," she asked, "what do you want?"

"Want? But don't you know? I'm going to marry Carolyn."

Constance could not believe it. She looked frantically to Angelique, whose distressed expression proved her worst fears to be true. "All right. Everyone in the drawing room now!"

"Even him?" asked Josef as he pointed accusingly to Quentin.

"Why not?" growled Constance. "This is a 'family affair.'"

Josef shrugged and entered the drawing room before anyone else. Constance urged Quentin to go ahead of her but he firmly stood his ground. "Maybe I didn't hear him correctly," murmured Quentin, "but did he just call me his 'brother in law?'"

"Um...yeah."

"How? You don't have parents. How the hell do you have a brother?"

Constance took his hands into hers and looked into his eyes. She did not want to tell him but she knew that he would not let the subject drop. "He's not my 'brother' brother. It's like the brotherhood of humanity; we're not kin but we are the same thing."

"Of God...he's not a...?"

"Yeah he is. He's my twin, my male double so to speak." She kissed his cheek and whispered, "I need to talk to Angelique alone for a moment. Please go in there and try not to start an argument with him, no matter how easy it may seem. Don't get on Josef's bad side."

Quentin grumbled something unintelligible but kissed Constance's forehead and went into the drawing room. She turned to Angelique and touched her shoulder, bringing the woman's uneasy gaze onto her. "Why didn't you tell me that Josef was the problem?"

"I never had a private moment!" said Angelique defensively. "I couldn't tell you anything until we were together. I didn't expect him to reveal himself so quickly."

Constance nodded in strained agreement. Tracking Josef's movements was like tracking the weather: once can be fairly sure where a storm might hit but one can never be certain until the rain begins to fall. "How has he been towards you?"

"Unbearable," moaned Angelique.

"I hate to say this, but he'll never let you be."

"I don't know if I want him to."

"Not again!"

"He's still so beautiful."

"And he's still an asshole. He's never going to change," warned Constance.

"You did!"

Constance ignored her comment and held Angelique's hand as they entered the drawing room. Quentin and Josef stood away from one another, eyeing the other one with cold, critical glances. She had no clue as to what had been said, but she knew that it had been harsh. Constance locked the doors and stood in front of them, pressing her body into the strong wood as her gaze fell heavily onto Josef. "We can drop the charade. You are amongst the knowledgeable."

"Thank God!" he exclaimed. "I've never been good at these false pretenses."

"You'd never have to deal with them if you would only keep your distance."

"But that would be no fun! Besides," said Josef, his eyes shifting lovingly to Angelique, "you know I can never stay too far away from you."

"Shut up!" insisted Angelique as she inched away from him.

"But it's true," he whispered as he approached her. "I can still remember the way you move, the way you feel, the way you taste. There's nothing I'd rather do than to take you now and put your fears to rest. Angelique, you know you want me. You know that the easiest thing to do is to admit your desire and come to me."

Constance glanced at Angelique and recognized the swoon she was falling under. Constance hated that such things could happen but there was nothing she could do about it. If Angelique had not desired Josef, he would have no affect on her. She did and he knew it all too well. The moment Josef touched her, Angelique fell into his arms unconscious. He picked her up and carefully laid her out on the loveseat. Constance caught the remains of a smile lingering on his lips as he turned to face her. "You love making her squirm, don't you?"

"I enjoy being appreciated, as do you. And I can't believe you're married! It's nice to see that you decided to let one live," sniped Josef. He turned to Quentin and, in faux shock, said, "Oh, I'm sorry. Do you actually know what she is?"

"Yes."

"So you can probably infer what I am?"

"You're an incubus," answered Quentin.

"And you're probably worried about your lovely little succubus being molested by little old me, right? No need to fear! Constance has as much to fear from me as she would from you."

"I don't have a history of molesting her. Why should you be trusted?"

"Look at her!" insisted Josef. "Now look at me. There's a resemblance between us that you'd have to be blind to miss. It's as if we're alternate sides of the same being. If Constance is not my sibling, we were definitely cut from the same cloth by the great creator. I can no more hurt her as hurt myself."

"You save me out of vanity?" asked Constance.

"Be glad I save you! You know others would risk much to take what a pretty girl like you could get."

Constance let the subject drop. Arguing with an incubus was pointless, especially when he was right. "Why are you going to marry Carolyn? Don't say that you love her because even I know that's a lie."

"You've got me there: I don't love her. She's a pretty girl but that's about it." Josef looked around the room before his eyes fell onto Angelique's sleeping form. "I'm just curious. I want to know how the other half lives."

"What if she wants children?" asked Quentin.

"Well that would be too bad because a childhood illness has left me sterile. Isn't that right, sister?"

"I wouldn't know," said Constance. "You stayed with our mother and your father. We were never close."

"It doesn't matter," muttered Josef. "I can defend my own story. I just want to know why you care about what I do?"

"I don't. I just can't believe that you've convinced yourself that you can live a normal life with Carolyn," chided Constance.

"Aren't you attempting to live a normal life with Quentin?"

Constance glanced to Quentin, relief washing over his body as Quentin began to laugh at Josef. "I know what she is and I don't care. I have no expectations of normality," said Quentin.

"Lucky you, Constance. Lucky, lucky you." Josef knelt next to Angelique, gently smoothing the hair from her face as he murmured rhymes in the ancient language. "I've always been fond of the old girl, Constance. She's always kept my attention."

"Is this your way of saying that you won't hurt her?" asked Constance.

"I've never hurt her before. I know that she's been hurt and hurt badly."

"And you believe you can fix her?"

"Can you fix him?" snapped Josef.

"Touché." Constance unlocked the doors and motioned for Quentin to join her. "Josef, we'll talk again."

"Well, we are living in the same house." Josef looked awkwardly from Angelique to Constance and asked, "Do you actually trust me alone with Angelique?"

"I trust that you don't want to get caught fondling my fake sister in front of your fake fiancée. You might be reckless, but you're not stupid. I know she'll be all right."

"So you trust me?"

"No. I can't stand to look at you right now," murmured Constance.

"I'm not the same person who hurt you," said Josef solemnly.

"Well, you'll have to excuse me if I don't believe you." Constance turned away, ran up the stairs, and burst through the door to the landing. The moment she closed the door, she felt the tremors spread violently through her body, causing her to fall to the floor. She always shook when she was nervous, when she felt like everything could go dangerously wrong. She crawled to the wall and curled into a ball, burying her head in her forearms to stop the shaking. When she felt hands close in on her shoulders, she knew it had to be Quentin. She fell into his arms and began to sob. "I'm so afraid," she moaned.

"There's nothing to be frightened of," he whispered. "I won't let him hurt you."

"You don't get it! Josef is harbinger of trouble. He has the uncanny ability to make any situation go from good to bad and bad to worse. I'm not afraid of him touching me. I'm afraid that he'll hurt others...like you."

"He's not going to hurt me."

"You don't know him the way I do! He'll hurt whomever's in his way or whomever he feels like hurting."

"But he can't hurt me," insisted Quentin. "Listen, if you're really worried about him, we should tell Carolyn everything about him."

"And then your family will know you've married a monster. No! You don't want that and, surprisingly, neither do I."

"Then we have to wait for his next move."

"I suppose your right." Constance let Quentin help her to her feet. While rising, she happened to notice a silver chain beneath his shoe. Without paying much mind to it, she grabbed it, wadding it into a ball and ramming it into her coat pocket. Soon, she felt the pendant that must have been attached to it burrowing into her palm and she let it go. When she looked into her palm, she noticed the light imprint of a five-pointed star.

Collinwood, 5:45 PM

The first thing Angelique saw when she came to was Josef's face. "Good afternoon, sleepy head," he whispered.

"What happened to me?"

"Nothing. Well, you passed out. But I've let you be: I haven't touch you."

Angelique wondered why he had not. She hated to admit that she wanted him but her yearning for him was becoming unbearable. She could hardly watch the fluid movement of his limbs without tightening the hold of her crossed legs. Josef attempted to seem aloof but failed miserably. Each time she moved, Angelique noticed the way his eyes would subtly follow. "Where is Constance?" she asked.

"She ran. The stress was getting to her."

"Who could blame her? She hadn't expected the past she was trying to leave behind to return so suddenly."

"And what do you think?"

"About what?" asked Angelique.

"What do you think about my return?" asked Josef.

"I'm not sure."

"You didn't seem pleased to see me Wednesday."

"I hadn't expected to see you. I've not thought about you in some time," explained Angelique.

"Am I so horrible a memory that you've repressed our time together completely?"

"No." Angelique did not want to stare at him, but she could not help it. He was so beautiful, possibly the most beautiful man she had ever known. Josef had to know the affect he had on her as he took a seat across from the loveseat, his unnaturally soulful eyes plastered onto her as she sat up. "Why are you marrying Carolyn?"

"Not again! I've already been through this with Constance," moaned Josef.

"And she probably didn't believe you. Why don't you tell me the truth?"

"Honestly," he laughed, "I'm here because I have nothing better to do. I met a blonde (you know how much I love blondes!) and started up a little romance. Before I knew it, she was talking marriage and silly things of that nature. Anyway, while she was discussing who should be invited, she mentioned that she wanted her cousin Quentin to attend but she feared his new wife Constance DuVane wouldn't let him return to Collinwood. That struck me strange: our Constance was married! And then Carolyn went on to talk about how Constance's sister was living on the family estate. It shocked me that Constance's sister sounded so much like you. Well, I hated that she was saying such horrible things about the two of you so I told her I was Constance's brother. I can't believe you two went off and had fun without me."

"I wouldn't necessarily call this fun."

"Then why are you here?" asked Josef.

Angelique was not going to tell him that she was trying to torture a former lover. At this moment, it seemed her bad karma had truly decided to come back on her. "That's for me to know and for you not to learn. And you're here to torment Constance and I? It seems losing your freedom to a spoiled little rich girl is a price to high to pay for your brand of fun."

"Well, marriage could prove interesting. I'll have a chance to see how the other half lives."

"The other half doesn't live as well as you obviously think they do."

"What about Constance and Quentin."

"Constance and Quentin are too bizarre to be the other half," laughed Angelique. "You'd have to find someone else if that's your model of the other half."

"Hmmm...like you?" asked Josef.

"Our relationship ended many years ago. It's over and can go no further."

"Because of what I am?"

"I'm friends with Constance in spite of what she is. No Josef, I could never be with you again because you are an arrogant bastard who believes too fully in his own genius and self worth."

In spite of what she had just said, Josef maintained a confident smile. "Was I so bad when we met?"

"You were worse."

"Then why did you come to me?"

"I didn't come to you. We came to each other."

Josef uttered an exasperated grunt before rising to take a seat next to Angelique. He slowly slid his hand up her arm as he asked, "Then tell me why we came to each other?"

"We were the only options available to one another."

"You're lying."

"Does that matter?"

"Yes. For once in your life, you should tell the truth."

"All right!" snarled Angelique. "I thought that you were immaculate and I wanted to know what it would feel like to be with you."

Josef grinned widely as he fell back into the loveseat. "I take it I was the best?"

"I wouldn't overestimate your performance. But you couldn't have been that confident. You sure wanted to know my opinion." Angelique leaned into Josef's lap and purred, "You are a very handsome man, but you only make a moderately pretty girl."

"I don't know what you're talking about!"

"Come on! I know you did your little succubus disguise the next day so that no one would care if you stuck to my side. And you've called me subversive! That truly was a surprise but I suppose it's to be expected from one such as you," sniped Angelique.

For a moment, she thought she saw Josef's resolve crumble. He recovered quickly, however, and his hands slipped beneath her shirt. "You said that I was amazing."

"I wanted to build your ego."

"Well, you succeeded. Bravo!" Josef rolled his eyes but took Angelique into his arms, laying her head against his chest and kneading his hands through her hair. "I don't think we should snivel with each other. It's pointless."

"So is this." Angelique rose from his embrace, moving to the far end of the loveseat. "You feel nothing for me. If I give myself to you, I will only set myself up for disappointment."

"I want you," he insisted.

"Who don't you want? You think you love me but you'll leave me the moment you feel the urge to ruin some poor mortal's life."

"That's were you're wrong." Josef sat up and took her hands into his. "I've been celibate for two years."

Angelique wanted to believe him, but she knew there was no point to it. There was always a flaw to Josef's logic, one only had to look a little to find it. "You may have been celibate for two years, but I know you probably impregnated the last woman you slept with."

"Yes," he conceded, "but she wanted it."

"Nonsense! You think all women would be happy if they were barefoot and pregnant."

"No! She actually wanted it. The man she wanted to have a child with was hesitant. I swallowed my pride, did the succubus thing to obtain his semen, and morphed into him to have sex with her. She had the baby at the beginning of last year. It was healthy and not the freak that superstitions imply. She is happy and he is clueless. It's perfectly fine."

"That is so subversive," chided Angelique.

"I hate that you say that!" growled Josef. "What makes incantations and curses more direct? It's the same damn thing. And that's why you get along with Constance and that's why you're attracted to me: we're you with a twist."

December 16, 1974, Collinwood, Noon

Barnabas felt foolish.  For the better part of three hours he had followed Constance DuVane through Collinwood, watching her eat an extremely sparse breakfast, talk alternately to Elizabeth, Carolyn, and  Angelique, bid Quentin adieu when he left with Willie and Maggie, and finally, reading some anonymous leather-bound book in the drawing room.  She read that book for an hour.  This had been something odd to watch, seeing Constance compare an object to another in the book before shuddering and tossing the object out the window.  Barnabas had no clue what she had threw, only catching the glint of silver as it flew through the air.  She seemed pleased, however, and quickly returned to reading her book.

Barnabas knew he should not be watching her, especially since Maggie had placed Andrew in his care.  The boy did not like sitting behind the hidden panel in the drawing room and occasionally threatened to cry and give them away.  He was always able to silence the child although he could barely look at him, disturbed by his resemblance to his mother.

But Barnabas knew he could use young Andrew for an experiment with Constance.  Before she returned, Barnabas had studied up on succubi, learning of a predilection to harming men and children.  Barnabas knew well her affect on men and now seemed to perfect time to test her reactions to children.  Andrew, although he was Maggie's beloved first born, was a perfect candidate.  He put Andrew down in the drawing room and watched as he began to crawl towards Constance.

Andrew began to whimper and eventually burst into tears in front of the fireplace.  Much to Barnabas' surprise, Constance immediately jumped up and came to his rescue.  She knelt in front of Andrew and looked into his eyes, silencing him instantly.  Constance picked him up and began to take him back to her seat when she removed a silver chain from his pudgy hand.  Barnabas had not seen the boy with it and had no clue as to where it came from.

"Where did you find it?" asked Constance.  Andrew only laughed.  Constance groaned but eventually began to laugh.  She walked back to the window and tossed this chain out the window before returning to her seat.

Constance cradled the giggling Andrew, shocking Barnabas beyond belief.  She looked critically at the boy before cooing, "I know who you are.  You're Maggie's baby.  You look so much like your mother."

"Mama!" he squealed.

"Uh-huh.  You are so pretty, yes you are!"  Andrew only giggled more as Constance tapped the tip of his nose.  "You know, I really don't like children, always crying and begging.  But you are so sweet so I might have to change my mind.  God, I don't understand why I told you that because you won't even remember me in five minutes.  I guess I'm just a little frazzled. I can't understand what's going on.  And now I'm one of those weird women who talk to babies, animals, or anything else that can't answer them.  But it is relaxing."

As she brought the boy to her mouth, Barnabas was sure she would bite him.  Instead, Constance kissed Andrew's forehead and pulled him to her chest.  She held him there until she heard the front doors open.  Constance carried the sleeping child into the foyer.  "I found your baby, Maggie."

Barnabas hid behind the drawing room doors, peaking through the slit as Constance handed Andrew back to his mother.  "I don't understand," said Maggie.  "He's supposed to be with Barnabas."

Constance flashed an odd look up to Quentin, sighed, and moved to her husband's side.  "It doesn't matter," she said.  "Barnabas probably fell asleep and Andrew must have wandered away."

"Then it's a good thing you found him," said Willie.

"Of course.  He had nothing to fear with me."

Barnabas watched as Willie and Maggie offered their thanks and left.  He immediately fled back to the panel, knowing exactly what to expect once the innocents left.  Like clockwork, he heard Constance and Quentin bound into the drawing room.  "Where is he?  I can't feel him."

"No need to rely on that."  Barnabas held his breath as he heard footsteps approach the panel.  Light soon filtered in and he saw Quentin standing before him, a sardonic grin marring his features.  "Found him."

Constance saddled next to Quentin, storm clouds filling her naturally dark eyes.  "Maybe I wasn't clear about this the first time: I don't hunt and kill children!"

"The books said..."

"The books spread lies!"  Constance looked as if she were going to cry when she tripped into Quentin.  He helped her to her feet but she pulled away.  "You have no reason to believe those things about me.  I realize that you'll never trust me but you don't have to experiment with me.  Leave me alone!"

Constance ran from the room, apparently zooming up the stairs and possibly heading for the west wing.  Barnabas thought of following her, of possibly apologizing to her although he would not mean it.  But Quentin still stood in front of him, his anger growing by the second.  "Why did you do that?" he asked, his voice overly restrained.

"I mean her no harm, Quentin.  I...I just don't know what she is."

"I know who she is!  Nothing else matters."  A bitter grin spread across

Quentin's face as he stepped away.  "You seem to be forgetting that Constance is my wife.  Whatever she may be does not bother me.  It doesn't concern you and I don't appreciate the way you've treated her."

"I don't mean it," insisted Barnabas.  "But I don't think she can be trusted."

"Neither can I," laughed Quentin.  "How many times have I completely let everyone down.  Too many to be counted.  I don't care about her past and she doesn't care about mine.  It's all about starting on a clean slate."

"Then why are you back here at Collinwood?"

"Honestly, I don't quite know."  Quentin left the room, he steps quickening as he came towards the stairs.  "No one's ever happy here.  It would've been better if had never returned."

Barnabas caught him before he walked up the stairs.  "And let her run your life?"

"No.  I wouldn't return because I wouldn't want to be here.  I don't think that's too hard to understand."  Quentin pulled away from him and began up the stairs.  "You're going to have to excuse me but I'm going to attempt to undo the damage you've done."

Barnabas said nothing as he watched his cousin flee.  "Quentin might be right," he mumbled.  But Barnabas could not quite believe it.  He could feel the evil refilling the house.  It had only recently returned.  If Constance was not the source, who was?

Collinwood, 1:00 PM

Constance sat on the bed, fumbling the silver chain between her fingers.  She had found it just outside Quentin's door.  She examined it the moment she stepped into the room and was surprised to see that it was the same one she had tossed out the window--twice.  She could not figure out where they were coming from.  Her best bet was to ask Quentin about it but she did not want to worry him.  So, when she heard the door open, she rammed it into her pocket and fell face first into the bed and began to sob.  When she felt Quentin touch her, she grabbed his arm and pulled herself into his body.  "Why does he have to be so cruel," she cried.

"Because he's angry and wants to take it out on someone."  Quentin lifted her chin and kissed her gently in an attempt to raise her spirits.  "You shouldn't pay any attention to Barnabas right now.  He's being a fool."

"All right."  Constance knew what he was trying to do and appreciated it.  She only wished that Barnabas was her problem.  "I guess I should have expected as much from him.  He will never accept me and I need to recognize that."

"I'm sorry."

"It's not your fault."  Constance kissed Quentin and brought him down on the bed.  "I don't mean to change to subject, but I want to talk to you about Josef."

"Are you still afraid of him."

"Yes and no.  Like I said before, he won't hurt me directly...at least not again.  You see, Josef can't control his impulses.  You saw him around Angelique: he was trying not to touch her but he couldn't help himself.  You can't piss him off or he'll make you regret it."

"You shouldn't have told me that," warned Quentin playfully.  "I'll have to anger him just to see what will happen."

"Don't!  He'll find a way to hurt you," said Constance.

"How?  The portrait is safely locked away.  So he can't really hurt me.  You don't need to worry about my safety."

"I know but it's hard for me to remember that sometimes."  Constance threaded her fingers through his hair as she brought his mouth to hers.  It was hard for her to be serious with Quentin when she could not keep her hands off him.  "But you have to remember that revenge against Josef is almost impossible.  He loves little and can't die."

"There has to be a way to get to him," insisted Quentin.  "I don't really want to hurt anyone, but if he messes with you, I'm willing to try it."

"He thinks he's in love with Angelique."

"When did this happen?"

"1798.  We were all wandering in and out of Spanish court after they were pummeled because of their aid to the French nobles during the revolution.  We were there to spice things up.  We knew what she was and Angelique eventually discovered the truth about Josef and I.  We just kind of stuck together and she and I became friends and they...became lovers.  Ick!  Josef and I knew to much to like each other.  We only stood together so that others wouldn't become to suspicious of the other.  If he was kicked out, I knew I would soon follow.  It was about survival."

Quentin kissed her gently and pulled her into him, letting Constance rest her head against his chest.  "Why don't you like Josef?  I'm not complaining, but I'd like to know why you hate him."

"We'll, we've never really liked each other," sighed Constance.  "He severely ruined my life in the 1500s and I've promised to ruin his because of it."

"What did he do to you?"

"He framed the man I was in love with.  He told the authorities about him and they killed him."  Constance lifted her head closer to his, managing to tighten her hold on Quentin as she rested her cheek against his.  "You should've seen me.  I cursed that town to ruin and it was off the map fifty years later.  No magic involved, just pure karma."

"God Constance, why did he do that to you?"

"Because he's an asshole."  Constance pulled away and began to laugh.  "But none of that really matters now.  Josef gets to pine hopelessly for Angelique and I have you.  No one can take you away from me."

"I don't want to leave you."

"I know.  That makes it all the better."  Constance fell back into the bed, letting Quentin slip atop her as his hands and mouth wandered the length of her body.  "Shouldn't we wait until later? she managed to ask between moans.

"They know where we are if they need us," murmured Quentin, his hand rummaging beneath her shirt.

"Well, if you put it that way."  Constance ripped off her shirt and began to work on his zipper.  "I've never needed much persuasion."

December 20, 1974, Collinwood, 7:00 PM

Barnabas could not understand the family's obsession with the sex demons. He still preferred to refer to them as such no matter what anyone else told him. Still, Constance held the group enthralled in the drawing room, playing the piano brilliantly between charming anecdotes about a recent trip to Greece. Quentin seemed to cling to everything she said or did, seemingly afraid that she would disappear if he lost sight of her. No wonder Julia thought their relationship was solid: what woman did not want to be adored? Yet she was not really a woman, just an amazing facsimile that fooled the oblivious and disarmed the knowledgeable.

Josef Maugham was no better. Every woman seemed tantalized by the tall handsome stranger. All he needed to do was smile or raise an eyebrow to make every woman within a room melt to sludge. It made Barnabas sick. Even Angelique seemed taken with him! "Angelique never falls for anyone," he had sniped to Julia. "What kind of hormone does this thing secrete to have every woman fall in love with him?"

"Why does it matter to you?" she had asked angrily. "Why do you care if Angelique falls in love with Josef? Do you still have feelings for her?"

Barnabas had been afraid to answer. He did not want to admit to it, but somewhere within him he had feelings for Angelique. And he still had feelings for Maggie, who he could barely look at without wanting to take her into his arms. He still thought of Roxanne, the poor lovely who had died by the light of the morning sun, and how he had failed to save her from her fate. He missed them all so much. He still had Julia, who loved him in spite of all of the horrible things he had put her through. Yet he wanted more. He wanted things he could never have.

From Barnabas' perspective, Josef was proving himself to be more of a problem than Constance DuVane. Constance seemed to be taking life easily, choosing to spend time with her husband and friends rather than cause in obvious kinds of trouble. Josef seemed to be a wild card. Josef welded power over all the women he met with no regard to his oblivious fiancée. Barnabas did not know if Josef was planning to have his way with the women of Collinwood, take Carolyn's money, or choose alternately from both options.

Barnabas confronted Josef in the foyer, having had to drag him away from an infatuated Hallie Stokes. "I want to know what your plans are."

"Lets see...I plan to marry Carolyn and make her deliriously happy. Why?" asked Josef. "Isn't that what I'm supposed to do?"

"Don't you know?"

Josef seemed a bit puzzled but soon regained his composure, the confident grin regaining control of his face. "Of course I know what is expected of me," he said. "Of course I know what I'm supposed to do."

Barnabas grabbed Josef by the collar and pulled him closer. "Listen, I know what you are! What are you planning to do with Carolyn? Is she some part of some sick game you like to play with mortals, feigning love and then leaving them with some stranger's child?"

"What are you talking about? What are you accusing me of?"

"You're an incubus!" snarled Barnabas. "You're a spirit in male form that preys upon women."

Josef began laughing, muffling the sound through a strong pale hand. "This beats all!" he whispered excitedly. "Incubus? What about my sister?"

"Your 'sister' is a succubus."

"What about her sister, Madeline Rochelle?"

"Madeline Rochelle is the alias being used by Angelique Bouchard, an eighteenth century witch."

Josef seemed confused. He obviously assumed that no one would know the true identities of either of his alibis. "I don't know what you're talking about," insisted Josef. "I understand that there isn't much to do in these small Maine towns, but this kind of fabrication is ridiculous!"

"It's the truth."

"It's far fetched." Josef pointed to the doors as Constance emerged from the drawing room. "Connie! Sweet, dearest sister, can you please tell Barnabas that I am no incubus?"

Constance rolled her eyes slowly and attempted to repress a grin. "I can assure you that Josef is no incubus," said Constance in monotone. "He's just a poor unfortunate fool who falsely believes that his problems are solved."

"But Constance," insisted Barnabas, "What about the admission you made to Quentin and I in the cottage...?"

"Lets not talk about such things. Now, if you'll excuse me gentlemen, I'll be leaving."

"But...?"

"But nothing! I'll be back in a moment."

Barnabas groaned. He couldn't stop her. He did, however, notice a sliver of silver peaking out of her clenched fist. He wondered if it was the same thing she took from Andrew days before. He did not ask her. He was too angry to care. When he turned back around, he noticed that Josef had disappeared. In his place stood Angelique. "Is it really you or...?"

"Or am I Josef in disguise?" Angelique laughed wickedly, throwing back her head in hysterics as she paced around Barnabas. "I thought that you, of all people, would know the difference."

"Of course. Forgive me. Where did Josef go?"

"Upstairs. He followed Carolyn and is sure to break is vow of chastity...bastard."

Barnabas moved closer to Angelique, pressing his cheek lightly against her as he leaned towards her ear. He knew how easy it would be now to wrap her in his arms and kiss her until the others found them. But this was something he was not ready to do, something he was not ready to explain to Julia. It was best to get the needed information and move away to contemplate his next move. "What do you know about Josef Maugham?"

"I know very little about Josef," she whispered. "There's so much I've tried to forget about him that the truth and the lies have bled into a reasonable fiction."

"How do you know him?"

"How do you think I know him?" she asked giddily. "Do you actually believe that you were the only one?"

"But he's..."

"An incubus?" asked Angelique. "Yes. He's an incubus the same as I'm a witch. It was quite a match."

"I can imagine," mumbled Barnabas.

"You can't begin to imagine," she countered. "It was positively breathtaking!"

Barnabas did not want to ask but he could not resist. "Better than I?"

"So much better." Angelique circled him once more before moving to the doors. "Josef is hard to describe in a few words. All you know in the end is that you want more, no matter what he may happen to represent."

"But he's evil," insisted Barnabas, the frustration beginning to take over his voice. "I've heard Constance talk about him. Josef only brings destruction to those he touches."

"Then I suppose he is just like me," said Angelique. "Maybe he's the one I should have followed all those years."

"But..."

"But what? It's a woman's prerogative to change her mind. Just because I've followed you all these years does not mean that I can't fall for another, one who is willing to return my affections!"

"But I said that I loved you!"

Yes...133 years ago! Now you've married Julia and moved on. Maybe it's time I followed your lead, Barnabas. You always knew best."

Barnabas tried to say something but Angelique left before he could find the words. He wanted to ease the tension that was running through is body but could not for fear of alarming the others. He could not believe that, on top of all that was happening, the woman he had counted on to be eternally obsessed with him was finally moving on!

December 22, 1974, Cottage, 2:00 AM

Angelique sat in the cottage, reading Wuthering Heights for what felt like the millionth time as snow quietly fell outside. She had been invited to Collinwood this evening but she had declined. She had spent too much time there already. Josef seemed to delight in taunting her, lavishing his attention so heavily upon Carolyn that Angelique often had to leave the room to save herself from saying something rude. She had no right to complain. Josef was engaged to Carolyn after all. But she knew he did not love her...at least she hoped he did not. Yet Angelique could never understand Josef. He was much to capricious for her taste. She could not understand why she could not let him go.

When she heard the knock at the door, she expected it to be Constance come to tell her about the dinner, or possibly Barnabas attempting to bring her back to him. Either one would be welcome. She put her book away and answered the door, happy at first but backing slowly away in fear. It was Josef, his broad shoulders covered in the freshly fallen snow. "Can I come in?" he asked softly.

Angelique stepped aside and allowed Josef inside. She could see that he was shivering. Then again, Josef was not well known for dressing warmly. He took a seat in front of the fire, obliviously warming his hands as Angelique paced around him. "Why are you here?" she asked softly.

"We...um...we need to talk."

"About?"

"Everything," he said. He turned his back to the fire and looked up at her. "I want to apologize for the way I've treated you."

"Well, it's about time," chided Angelique. "You've been cruel. I have not deserved to have you through my feelings for you in my face each time we see one another."

"I know," he murmured. "But I didn't know that you still felt for me."

"So you've been provoking me to find out?"

"Well, not just that. Dammit! Carolyn is my fiancée. I have to be...intimate with her. What would people think if I never kissed her, if I never..."

"Shut up! I'm having mental pictures of you making love to her. Just shut up!"

"And that's what I was looking for." Josef bolted up and took a seat on the sofa, his eyes never wavering from Angelique. "I want people to believe that we are one of those giddy couples who can't take their hands off one another. I don't want them to think that I love another."

"So you love me?"

"Of course. How could I forget about you."

Angelique moved toward him, carefully moving into his open arms and onto the sofa. She let him lay her down on the sofa, let him quietly remove her peignoir and toss it to the side. He slipped on top of her, letting his mouth wander down her neck and over her breasts, coaxing each nipple to a firm, painful hardness. She reached in between to find him without underwear and hard, ready for her. For a brief minute, she contemplated her next action. She was about to make love to Carolyn Stoddard's fiancé. If anyone found out, she would have more trouble than she was ready for. Then she remembered that she had known Josef much longer than Carolyn. What was some snotty spoiled girl's fling compared to her affair? Angelique unbuttoned his pants and guided him to the spot.

It felt as if they were starting over, exploring the bodies they had known so well a century before with vigorous interest and desire. They soon fell off the coach and rolled in front of the fireplace. They remained there a good hour, taking only short breaks as they made love. She could remember how she had once felt to be around Josef, remembering how he seemed to create a sense of security, a warmth that never seemed to end. She was pleased to find that Josef had not changed.

Josef covered her once they were through, hugging and cuddling her as Angelique ran her lips along his face. "Did you think we would do that again?" he whispered.

"Not really. Do you realize what we've done?"

"We've consecrated this house for something special." Josef rolled off of her but continued to hold her, lacing his arms around her body as he stared into her eyes. "Do you regret this?"

"No," whispered Angelique. "I don't regret this. I've never regretted what went on between us."

"I know. I've always seen my time with you as being the happiest times in my life. It was great, just you and me."

"And Constance," added Angelique sleepily, burying her face into his chest.

"Yeah, it won't be the same without her, but we'll manage. It'll be great. I've got plans. You'll see what I mean." Josef smiled and kissed her forehead. "I don't want to leave but I have to."

"No you don't! You don't have to go back to her!"

"Yes I do," insisted Josef. "I told Carolyn I was going out for a walk. I've already been gone too long. I'm surprised that she's not gone out looking for me. Carolyn can be a very suspicious woman. If I get caught, it will be trouble for us both. You don't want to get caught do you?"

"No," whispered Angelique. She sat up and kissed his lips. "I love you."

"I love you, too." He kissed her forehead and whispered, "But I have to leave.

Josef threw on his clothes and left the cottage. Angelique only watched him. She could not convince him to stay. He was convinced that he had to do the "right thing." He was attempting to keep up appearances. She remembered how Barnabas had done the same thing, how he would have his way with her and claim to love her only to leave her to bask in the purity he found with Josette. Although Carolyn was a poor substitute for her dead mistress, Angelique could see the parallels. She waited twenty minutes before dressing in something warmer and heading to Collinwood. She would not let another man treat her that way again, starting tonight.

Collinwood, After three

Constance could not sleep. It was not because of anything anyone had done to her directly. The family had been kind to her, kinder to her than they had years before. It was not because of Quentin. He had done nothing to anger her. As petty as it seemed, it was because of the chain with the silver pentagram attached to it. Each time she threw it out, it would return to her, each time showing up in a more conspicuous place than before. The last straw had been finding it entangled in Quentin's hair. As carefully as possible, she eased it out, and, once she was convinced he was fast asleep, she crept into the drawing room. That had been around midnight.

Constance waited three hours in the drawing room, draining Roger's brandy reserves as she lay in wait for Josef. The moment he walked through the door, she startled him and pulled him into the drawing room against feeble, muted protests. "What the hell are you doing?" he demanded.

"I ask the same of you." Constance fumbled through her pockets until she found the chain. "Does this ring any bells?"

Josef took the chain and examined it, tossing the pentagram between his hands before giving it back to Constance. "I understand why you'd take offense. Where did you find it?"

"Well, I last found it in Quentin's hair."

"And I understand why you'd be ready to kill," said Josef, "but this has nothing to do with me. I wouldn't taunt you about Corrin."

"I'm not so sure about that. You always warned me about how wrong it was for me to be with Corrin," sniped Constance.

Josef groaned but remained after closing the doors. "You prided yourself on your loyalty, on your ability to weather the storm with a male of another species. Well, you proved yourself, darling. You stayed with Corrin for the long haul. You stayed long enough to watch them shave his head and strap your love to the pyre!" Josef remained silent long enough for Constance to slap him. "I deserved that."

"More than you realize!"

"And what makes you think that people will treat your new boy any different?"

"It won't happen again. Humanity has changed. They don't burn people anymore."

"That's because they electrocute and gas them now. Constance, humans don't change, not really. If there's something wrong with Quentin--and believe me, to love you there has to be--it will come back to haunt you both."

"What do you know about Quentin?" asked Constance, slowly walking Josef into the doors. "What are you planning to do?"

"I don't know anything about your new darling and I wouldn't do anything with that information." Josef began to walk forward, encroaching upon Constance until she ran into the Sheraton. "Who knows about Corrin?"

"No one knows."

"Does Quentin?"

"He doesn't know the whole story," whispered Constance.

"Then who would...oh my God! This has nothing to do with Corrin, does it? It's Quentin, isn't it? He's a..."

"He's in remission," said Constance as she clamped her hand over Josef's mouth. "It's a very long story and you're not on a need to know basis."

"Josef removed her hand slowly, attempting to show her that he meant her no harm. "You see, I didn't do this. It's someone who knows about his problem. Someone is trying to mess with your head and they're using Quentin's problem to do it!"

"That would be you."

"No. I don't like Quentin, but he's a shape shifter. Would a hurt another shape shifter?"

"You wouldn't hurt one of us but you tend to have a less than positive view of lycanthropes."

"They aren't like us, Constance!" insisted Josef. "They move down the food chain while we move across. There's a difference between blurring the genders and blurring the species. Besides, we dictate changes. You remain female. I don't think you've ever been anything else. I only change when it serves my purpose. We are in control! That doesn't mean I'd hurt one of 'them.'"

Constance had heard him rant like this. She would not push that argument if it took her away from the heart of the matter. "You're still my prime subject. You don't like Quentin. That's enough of a reason for you."

"You know, something tells me that a lot of people don't like Quentin. I think someone's trying to play with the two of you to see what they can get."

"That's bullshit," mumbled Constance. "Who would do that?"

"You tell me."

"I don't know."

"Who knows about his problem?"

"I'm not exactly sure," murmured Constance.

"See, it could be anyone." Josef swiveled awkwardly towards the doors and yelled, "Hey! What are you doing here?"

Constance peaked around him to see Julia Hoffman staring at them. "I saw a light and I was curious." Her glance shifted to Constance and her eyes instantly widened. "Constance, what's that in your hand?"

"Um...nothing," stammered Constance as she tried to cram the chain back into her pocket.

"No, I've seen that thing before. I know what it is used for," insisted Julia.

"You know?" Constance, against her better judgment, brought Julia into the room and handed her the pentagram. "Have you seen this particular pentagram before?"

Julia examined it closely before handing it back to Constance. "It could be one of two that I know of," she said. "Where did you find this?"

Constance ran down the list of places she had found the pentagram. She leaned in and asked, "Do you know who it belonged to?"

"I have to options. Both women are long dead."

"And you think one of them may be leaving the pentagram?"

"It's a possibility."

"Do you know which one?" asked Josef.

"I believe I do. I can't no for sure."

"Is there any way for you to find out?" asked Constance.

"We can always ask her."

"A séance!" squealed Josef. "Lets do it."

Constance tried to protest but her words fell on deaf ears. Josef and Julia readied the room by killing the lights and fixing a table with three chairs and a single candle. "This is ridiculous," murmured Constance.

"Don't be a spoil sport," chided Josef. "Don't you want to know about the pentagram?"

"Yes."

"Good," said Josef. "Now remember, concentrate and keep your hands on the table. Don't let them wander and don't pick them up. And keep them touching. You don't want to break the spell. You should lead, Julia. I'm not good at these things."

Julia nodded and closed his eyes. "We call on you, Beth Chavez," she said. "We call you from beyond the grave to answer our questions, questions only you can answer." After a few moments of silence, Julia said, "If you won't come for us, will you return for Quentin? If you still love him, come to u and answer our questions. This is most important!"

Constance repressed the groans that were rising in her throat. She was attempting to block out Julia's pleas but they were all she could hear. Constance hated séances. She knew better than anyone that the dead had the ability to speak. She did not believe that they spoke to you every time you called them. The dead have better things to do than wait for a mortals call. Yet when the room went cold and the candle flickered out, even Constance became afraid. "Beth," she whispered quietly.

"Why do you throw it out?" Constance looked up to see a spectral woman standing before her. Her long dress touched the table, solid although, like the rest of her, translucent. Her blonde hair was twisted into a bun, only a few sprigs touching her swan's neck. Her kind face showed obvious sorrow. "Why do you throw it out?" she repeated.

"You're the one leaving the pentagram?" asked Constance.

"Yes." Beth stepped down from the table and stood beside Constance. She knelt and began rummaging through Constance's pocket, rising again with the pentagram in hand. "I can't help him now," said Beth. "You will need this."

"When?" asked Constance.

"In a day, a week, a year, a century. I can't say. But you will need this."

Hesitantly, Constance motioned for Beth to place the pentagram on the table. "Are you saying Quentin will relapse?"

"Yes." Beth covered her mouth with her hand as she whispered, "And you must look for the child."

"Quentin's child?"

"No! But there is a child, a baby, to worry about nonetheless."

"I don't understand." Beth started to speak, but, as soon as the doors open, she disappeared. Constance rammed the pentagram back into her pocket just in time to see Angelique and Quentin emerge from the light. Angelique seemed alert while Quentin still seemed a bit groggy. "Why are you here?" asked Constance.

"I'd ask the same of you," said Angelique, her eyes landing heavily on Josef.

"I couldn't sleep," said Josef.

"I came to see if I left my book here," said Julia.

Constance could not think of an easy alibi. She could not take her eyes off of Quentin, who seemed more oblivious than ever to the danger swirling around him. Constance ran up to him and wrapped her arms around his waist, burying her face into his silk robe and bursting into tears upon impact. Quentin lifted her chin and wiped away the tears, worry striping his face as he did so. "Constance, what's wrong? It can't be this bad."

"Everything's fine," she lied. She laid her head against him, further soothed as Quentin ran his fingers through her hair. "There's nothing wrong, nothing we can't get through."

Angelique focused her stare on Josef, hoping her gaze pierced through his shell and engaged the organ inside his body that resembled a heart. She had heard the entire conversation between Constance, Josef, and Julia. She would have asked to join the séance, but, once she learned they would invoke Beth Chavez, she knew it was best to stay out. Angelique knew she would only distract Beth, bringing on accusations instead of sorely needed answers. The disclosure of Quentin's relapse had been unexpected, but the revelation about the child had been stunning. She had wanted to listen for more, but she saw Quentin descending the stairs and thought it best to keep him away. This gave her enough time to think about the child's paternity, and to remember an earlier conversation with Josef. She had her suspicions and she wanted them confirmed. Angelique ushered Constance and Quentin into the drawing room and shut the doors, locking them all away from the outside world. She took a seat across from Josef and asked, "What about the baby?"

Josef pretended not to understand, mumbling, "I...I...I don't know what you're accusing me of but I...I...I don't like it."

Constance immediately caught on. She pulled away from Quentin and stood next to Angelique. "Yes Josef," she snarled, "what about the baby?"

"What child are you talking about?" asked Quentin.

"I'm not sure yet," answered Angelique. "That's why I'm asking Josef."

"Tell us about the baby!" insisted Julia.

Josef shot up from the table and moved towards the doors. "I owe no one here an explanation."

They all moved in around Josef, barraging him with words and accusations. Josef only slid to the floor, covering his head with his arms as if to protect himself from the assault. He suddenly jumped up, sending the four of the scattering to opposite ends of the room. "What do you people want of me?"

"The name of the mother," said Angelique.

"Fine, fine! It was Sabrina Stuart."

The silence was deafening. Only Constance failed to wear a horrified expression but that was to be expected. They all began to gravitate towards Josef, forcing him back to the floor. "Who was the father?" asked Julia.

"Does it really matter?"

"Answer the question!" demanded Constance.

"All right. It was...dammit it was..."

"It was Chris Jennings," answered Quentin angrily.

"That sounds right. How did you know?" asked Josef.

"How did I know?" Quentin lunged for Josef only to have Constance pull him back and guide him to a chair. "How the hell do you think I know? Chris and I are family."

"Chris is his descendent," added Constance.

The information slowly began to hit Josef, the gravity of his actions suddenly dawning on him and causing him to cry. "Oh my God, I...I had no idea! Constance, you know that I..."

"Sure whatever," mumbled Constance angrily, her attention on Quentin as she tried to calm him.

"I mean, I felt something strange about Jennings when I was with him, but I couldn't understand it."

"You felt something?" asked Julia.

"Yeah. We're all very sensitive to the supernatural vibrations of a partner," explained Josef. "But I've never been with a 'were' before so I didn't recognize the sensation."

Angelique did not buy his explanation and one quick glance back to Constance revealed that she didn't either. "So you're telling us that you would have sex with something you don't understand, something that could very well hurt you in some way because you can't recognize it."

"Well, I mean, I didn't know any better."

"That's a lie," said Constance solemnly. "You do know about 'weres.' You used to squeal to the authorities about them during the dark times and you urged to see them tortured in the streets."

"That was long ago."

"Not to me!"

Josef jumped up, seemingly ready to take on all who challenged him. "You seem to have no trouble fucking them," he snarled.

"I've never professed a hatred," sniped Constance.

"You won't profess to anything your vagina won't agree to."

Constance scowled before jumping for Josef, only moving a foot before Quentin grabbed her around the waist and pulled her into him. "You're one to talk! You don't think before you act and this is proof of it!"

Josef glanced angrily between the four of them, carefully choosing what he would say next. "All right," he conceded. "I knew while I was with him that Jennings was a lycanthrope but I didn't know his lineage. I heard later that he no longer changes with the full moon, but whenever nature seems to deem it time. That should have been a sign not to do it. I later
heard about his sister dying from a wild animal attack. I didn't put two and two together and I'm sorry."

Angelique did not have to look behind her to know what carnage his words had left behind. Julia was the first to react, running from the room as she cried the name Amy repeatedly. Angelique glanced back to Constance, who was doing her best to comfort an obviously startled Quentin. He urged her to check on Julia, who could still be heard from outside the building. Constance hesitantly left, giving Josef an evil look as she passed. "All you bring is pain," she cried.

"It's not my fault," he yelled back to Constance, her only response being the middle finger salute. "I didn't kill the girl. You can't blame me for the girl."

"No one can blame you for what happened to Amy," said Quentin, "but you have ruined this new child."

"What?"

"By bringing it into existence! Chris knew better than to have a child but you had to circumvent his will do what you wanted."

"What is it?" asked Angelique.

"It's a boy. She named it Cameron."

"Beautiful." Quentin rose languidly from the chair and approached Josef, backing him into a corner as he walked. It had been years since she had seen him squirm, so watching Quentin tower angrily over Josef almost brought a smile to Angelique's lips. "You don't know the damage you've done."

"And if you weren't the ground zero lycanthrope, we wouldn't be discussing this," said Josef.

"Are you saying that your actions would have been moral had I and my descendents not been cursed?"

"By my standards."

"God! For someone who should have so much potential, you sound like an idiot." Quentin left the room and went to help Constance comfort a still frantic Julia.

This left Angelique alone with Josef. Quentin was right: Josef sounded like an idiot as he attempted to rationalize his actions. She knew that he was not an idiot. She also knew he would do her no harm if she stated her mind. So she calmly approached him and slapped him hard, sending Josef falling to the floor. "Did I deserve that?"

"What do you think? You brought a life into this world that is simultaneously blessed and damned."

"How was I to know?" demanded Josef.

"You knew!" screamed Angelique. "You knew all along. How could you not understand the vibrations?"

"I wasn't thinking," he said softly.

"No you weren't. You were so foolish." Angelique swallowed hard, knowing the next words would be the hardest to say. "I can't stay with you if you insist of doing such things."

"What?"

"You heard me! Don't make me say it again." Without looking back at Josef, she left the room, walked past the three outside the door, and ran back to the cottage. She could not deal with it anymore, at least not for some time. It was going to be hell attending the wedding, but she knew she had to go. She had to prove that she did not care about Josef, even if it was a lie.

Cottage, 4:00 AM

Constance trudged through the snow, heart heavy from the events of the past hour. She had gotten Julia's address book in the hopes of getting hold of Chris or Sabrina. It was the only thing she could wrangle from her as she sobbed in Quentin's arms. Constance knew that she was of no use to them. She had not known the girl and could not understand their grief. She knew that she had to put herself to good use and this was the only thing she could think of. She had not wanted to go back into Collinwood, afraid that at the sight of Josef, she fly into a fury and wake the house. Besides, she needed to check on Angelique.

When no one answered her knock, Constance invited herself inside the cottage. She found Angelique sitting by the fire, her eyes plastered on the roaring flames as she took swigs from an almost emptied wine bottle. "I didn't think it was wise to conjure while drunk?"

"Can't I have a bout of self pity?"

Constance took a seat next to Angelique and took her into her arms, letting her begin to unload sobs that rivaled Julia's. "You're going to be all right. Nothing's going to happen to you. You will survive."

"But why can't I fall in love with someone without so much baggage," complained Angelique. "If it's not someone who can't sort out his feelings it's someone who can't get his life in order. What's wrong with me?"

"Nothing's wrong with you." Constance pulled away and asked, "Did you go back to Josef?" Angelique nodded. "Why? You know he's trouble. Why did you go back to him?"

"He came to me," explained Angelique. "He actually apologized for the way he treated me. I thought it might be good to be with him. It wouldn't be like it was when it was the three of us, but it might be good."

"There will never be a three of us again."

"I know. You've permanently taken yourself out of that equation, haven't you?"

"Yes. And now someone's trying to take it all away from me." Constance fell into Angelique and let her hold her as she wept. "I can't believe that Quentin might go furry again. Would Beth lie about such a thing? I need to know."

Angelique shook her head. "Beth often put herself on the line for Quentin. She would not lie about such a thing."

"Oh God. And now there's this child." Constance suddenly remembered why she was there. "Can I use your phone?"

"Be my guest."

Constance rose languidly and walked toward the phone, hoping to compose herself before she talked to whomever was on the other line. She knew that she probably wouldn't get Chris or Sabrina but she had to try. "Hello. May I speak with Chris Jennings or Sabrina Stuart."

"No mam, their long gone from here. Chris left almost two years ago and Sabrina and that baby left a little less than a year ago. It's a shame. I'm surprised that people would leave their families in this day and age, but I suppose things never change."

Constance wanted to speak up for Chris but knew it was pointless. No one would believe the truth. "I suppose your right sir. But can you tell me if they left any information on a way for people to get in touch with them?"

"I'm sorry mam. Wish I could be more of a help."

"So am I. Thanks anyway." When Constance hung up, she noticed Quentin standing in the doorway. He looked weary and she could see the dried tear streams staining his face. "Their gone. They didn't leave forwarding address or such. We can't get in touch with them."

"That's to be expected." Quentin took a seat on the sofa, burying his face in his hands to muffle a few strangled sobs. "How can we explain this to them. People associate incubus attacks with nuns who want to explain away unwanted pregnancies and maintain their purity. No one takes such things seriously."

"I suppose your right." Constance took a seat next to Quentin and took him in her arms, hoping that he would unload the pain she could see being his eyes. He did not, choosing to straighten up and wipe away the few tears that had fallen. "I suppose I'm just used to such things. I've lived with this all my life."

Quentin nodded. "Can we just leave."

Constance looked over to Angelique, who only nodded and drunkenly shooed them away. Constance helped Quentin to his feet and they left. While they were walking back, she could see the darkness creeping back into his face. "Are you sure you're all right?"

"No I'm not all right." Quentin fell to his knees, covering his face in his hands and once again breaking into tears. Constance knelt next to him and held him. She could not stand to see this happening. It took all of her self control not to break into tears herself. "This is all my fault," sobbed Quentin. "None of this would have happened if it had not been for me."

Constance did not know what to tell him. Technically, he was right: Quentin was the cause of the curse that affected his family. But Constance knew the regret he felt for his first wife's murder. She knew how much he mourned the actions of this past life. But she could not tell him that she was wrong. "It's all right," she chose to say. "Everything will work out."

"How?" demanded Quentin. "Who is going to make this right?"

"I don't know. But we do have time. It will be years before this boy goes through even one transformation. We have time to figure something out to save him."

"But what about Chris? God, I can't imagine what he must be feeling after what happened to Amy."

"He probably can't forgive himself," said Constance. She took his face into her hands and said, "But there's nothing we can do about it. What's done is done."

"The child never had a chance," whispered Quentin.

"But she gets another chance. It's a cycle and no one ever really get out. She'll live again and hopefully she'll be given a family that's not so...sordid."

"I understand."

"Does it help any?" Quentin smiled weakly and nodded. "Good! This is something you should worry about."

"But I can't help it. I keep thinking about how wrong it is that I get to live as far from my curse as possible while they have to deal with it firsthand. They did nothing wrong and they have to live with my mistake. It's not fair."

Now might have been the time to tell Quentin about what she had learned. But she could not do it. He was so sad now. This information would only bring him more pain. Constance would not be able to watch him weep again tonight. For one more night, she wanted to act as if at least one thing was still as it had been before they had returned to Collinwood. So she decided not to tell him. "No it's not fair," she whispered as she kissed his cheek. "But one day, they'll be free of this too. One day you'll make it up to them."

"Do you really believe that I can help them?"

"Of course you can. You've helped me, you just don't understand it," cooed Constance, kissing him once again but this time on the lips. "I think you can move mountains if you want to. You just need to figure out how."

Quentin smiled as he laid his head on her shoulder. "I'm lucky to have you here. I don't think I could find the strength if you weren't here to remind me that there is a future."

"My pleasure to do it." Constance knew that they could not sit there any longer. If they mused any more on the events of this night, she would break down and tell him everything. Quentin had hope now, that was all that mattered. They could deal with hopeless at a later date. "Now lets leave. We need rest. Everything will seem clearer in the morning."

"I'm sure you're right," mumbled Quentin as he stood and offered her his hand.

"Yeah," she whispered mournfully. "I'm sure of it."

December 25, 1974, Chapel/Church, 5:00 PM

"I can't believe I'm in a church," murmured Angelique.

"You're in a consecrated house of God," whispered Quentin.

"And in a few minutes, lightning will strike the steeple and the entire thing will burn to the ground," joked Constance.

"That's not funny." Angelique did not want to admit it, but the image did amuse her. It would not surprise her if God did attempt to exact his revenge on the three of them in his house. Where else could he? But it was just as well if he did not. The actual torture for Angelique had been the last few days. She osculated between a drunken stupor to the painful aftermaths of both a hangover and the preparations for the union of Josef and Carolyn. Today was the payoff. The chapel looked lovely, filled to the brim with white roses and the aroma of beeswax candles. Josef looked exquisite in his tuxedo, the smile of false happiness seeming to seal the deal. If it were not for Constance and Quentin sitting on each side of her, she was not sure if she would be able to remain composed.

It was hard enough to watch Barnabas enter with Julia. By now he knew what Josef had done. He was probably going to hang their last argument over her head. She was not about to go back and apologize or cower at his feet to beg for mercy. She could live without intimacy, especially from the two of them. They would have to crawl back to her before she even considered them again. After considering how their lives would be progressing from this point out, she hoped they would be stocking up on kneepads.

"Here comes the bride," murmured Constance.

Carolyn walked slowly down the aisle, seemingly weighed down by the yards of white material that trailed her. The dress was elaborate, beading and design covering the bodice as the skirt flowed in satin. The veil was all lace, falling both in her face and flowing down her back. She seemed insanely happy, the light from her smile seeming to touch practically everyone from behind the veil. "She's beautiful," sighed Angelique.

"You're much more beautiful than her," said Constance reassuringly.

"And this will not last," added Quentin. "This will crumble away in about 6 months."

"I don't think they'll make it to 'I do," said Constance.

"Ridiculous. They'll at least make it 3 months and 6 is my maximum."

"Josef will find a way out of this. I say they don't make it to 'I do.'"

"Wanna bet?" asked Quentin slyly.

"You know it," purred Constance as they shook hands.

"What does the winner receive?"

"Anything she damn well wants."

"As long as he gets it, I agree to that."

Angelique could not listen to them. They did not take this as seriously as she did. That was to be expect: neither of them was watching their lover marry someone else. "You're not helping," mumbled Angelique.

"Sorry. What would?" asked Constance.

"It would help if this silly thing would hurry up and end!"

The three of them repressed giggles as the minister asked all to sit. The ceremony seemed to be going off without a hitch. At the moment the minister asked if anyone objected to the union, both Constance and Quentin turned to Angelique, their eyes seeming to demand some sort of action on her part. "I'm not going to object," she whispered awkwardly.

All eyes quickly shifted to the man running down the aisle. "I object!" he screamed. "She can't marry him."

Constance leaned in and asked, "Who the hell is this?"

"Joe Haskell," answered Angelique. "He's Chris' cousin."

"Isn't he supposed to be in Windcliffe?" asked Quentin.

"He was just released," said Angelique.

"After ruining a Collins family event, he'll wish he hadn't left," sniped Constance.

They quieted to listen to Joe beg Carolyn to reconsider. "I know you can't love him," he said.

"But Joe, it's been so long," said Carolyn.

"It doesn't matter," insisted Joe. "Can you say without hesitation that you want to spend the rest of your life with this man?"

Carolyn's silence said it all. Josef sighed and stepped away from the alter. "If you have any hesitation," he said, "we shouldn't go through with it."

"But I love you!"

"No you don't." Josef kissed her cheek and said, "I want you to be happy. If I have to step aside, I will." Carolyn did not respond. "That's what I thought." Josef kissed her hand and walked back down the aisle and out of the chapel.

The crowd almost immediately broke into frenzy, most of them jumping from their seats and attempting to leave. Angelique had shifted to one of the empty seats and Constance laid down, her head in Quentin's lap. "Maybe I wasn't really paying attention, but did Josef just do the right thing?" asked Quentin.

"He did," yawned Constance. "But he probably just forgot why he was here. It was best to just let her go than to make a fool of himself while wearing formal wear."

"Memory lapse?"

"You bet. Josef was notorious for memory lapses, wasn't he Angie?"

"I don't see how the two of you can be so cruel," said Angelique as she stood. "He has done the correct thing and you chastise him."

"No he didn't," insisted Constance. "We all know that Josef had no intention of marrying Carolyn. He got a lucky break."

"You're being much to cynical."

"She's speaking the truth," said Quentin. "Josef is a shrew...and he made me lose my bet."

"And you owe me big!"

Angelique ignored them as they talked over their bet. She slipped out the back, happily missing the crowd to find Josef. She found him sitting on the back steps. She tentatively took a seat beside him and placed her hand on his shoulder. "I realize how hard that had to be."

"You have no clue," laughed Josef. "You can't imagine all of those people staring at you. I can't believe things went as far as they did."

Angelique bit her bottom lip, trying not to yell at him. She could not believe that Constance and Quentin had been right. "Well, it's a good thing you didn't marry her," she managed to mumble.

"I suppose so." Josef looked back to Angelique and asked, "Do you hate me?"

"I'm disappointed in you, but I suppose I always was. No, I don't hate you."

"But you still believe that we can't be together."

"No now."

Josef looked away quickly. He took off his tie and tossed it angrily into the grass. "Is there someone else?"

"God no!" insisted Angelique. "I don't really want someone right now. I need a breather from the dysfunctional relationships."

"Okay, but you haven't seen the last of me," cooed Josef.

"Why? You have no reason to come around anymore. Your fun is over."

"Oh Angie, you are so so wrong." Josef lay back onto the ground, a devious smile slowly spreading across his face. "I've got plenty reason to hang with my favorite girls. The fun isn't over; it's only just begun."

Collinwood, 7:00 PM

Although they had not gone to the wedding together, Barnabas and Julia took Constance and Quentin back to Collinwood. There seemed to be no comfort zone between them, leaving a heavy silence throughout the car. Barnabas noticed that Julia would occasionally look back at the couple and sigh. Constance seemed to cling to Quentin, holding him as if she were afraid she would lose him. Barnabas did not understand it, but he honestly did not want to. The duo would be gone in a few hours and he would gladly have them away, taking the insanity that seemed to follow them back to their home.

The moment they arrived at Collinwood, Constance ran to the west wing to pack. Julia ended up talking with Elizabeth, leaving Barnabas and Quentin alone together for the first time since the argument. Their relationship had known all extremes, swinging from being bitter enemies to close friends. Now they existed in the odd area between enemy and friend, making idle chatter a near impossibility. "Do you really have to leave so soon?" Barnabas finally asked him.

"Yes," whispered Quentin. "We've been here long enough."

"You don't have to leave just because your wife wants to go."

"Who said that Constance is the one who wants to leave?" snapped Quentin. "This place has so many bad memories for me. I'm only glad that she wants to leave as badly as I do."

A knock interrupted the tension. Quentin abruptly left the room to answer. Barnabas could make out only brief conversation: "A note for Quentin Collins." "That's me. Thank you." Only seconds after the door closed, Quentin ran back into the drawing room and locked the doors behind him. he handed the note to Barnabas and said, "You have to see this."

Hesitantly, Barnabas read the note:

"Quentin

Long ago I gave you freedom and I asked for your services in return. I have yet to receive my payment. If you cannot--or refuse--to pay, I shall have to take away part of my gift until you understand your obligation. Remember your wife when you make your decision and choose well.

Count Andreas Petofi"

"What am I supposed to do?" asked Quentin.

"Nothing now," said Barnabas. "You don't know if he'll do it."

"Of course he'll do it! Why wouldn't he?"

"I suppose your right." Barnabas returned the note to Quentin and said, "But you can't give in to him."

"If it were only me involved, I would agree with you. But it's not just me. What do I tell Constance?"

"Why do you have to tell her?"

"Because she's my wife!" insisted Quentin. "She has bound herself both legally and spiritually to me when she probably shouldn't have. She knows that I was once a werewolf and she knows how I was cured. What am I going to tell her if the cure is taken away?"

"Tell her nothing," insisted Barnabas.

"But I think she's known others like me in her life. She might be able to help."

"And what if she hasn't? What if she can't help you? Listen, you should not worry her without need," said Barnabas calmly. "This note may be a hoax. Just go back to New York and forget about it."

"Yes, go back to New York, where all dreams become reality," said Angelique, the drawing room key dangling between her fingers. She turned to Quentin and said, "Constance has finished packing."

"Then I need to go." Quentin ran quickly from the room, barely giving a second glance to the people he left behind.

Angelique turned angrily to Barnabas and asked, "What trash are you telling him?"

"Nothing," said Barnabas defensively. He moved closer to Angelique, barely able to control himself when faced with her beauty. "I can assure you it's nothing like the rubbish Josef Maugham fed you."

"Josef is a fool, a sweet fool," she said. "He's a fool who matters as little to me as you do now."

"You can't mean that," said Barnabas. He took Angelique into his arms and held her closely, their mouths only inches apart. "Being this close to me, you can't say you feel nothing."

"I feel nothing," said Angelique proudly. "Now kindly let me go before I scream for your wife. You wouldn't appreciate that, would you?"

Collinwood, 9:00 PM

Although everything had been packed, Constance remained in Quentin's room. The pentagram lay only inches away, sitting as a testament to things to come. She was tempted to toss it once again, but she knew if would be pointless to do so. Beth would just return it, starting the cycle anew. Constance checked her watch once more, and, upon realizing that they would be late is she did not hurry, grabbed the pentagram and fled.

As she walked back to the main building, Constance was amazed how subdued the house was from her first visit. It was as if the ghosts of Collinwood had finally been put to rest. Of course the had not, but it was a nice dream. As she strolled down the halls, Constance was certain that she saw Beth Chavez sitting in one of the empty rooms. Constance had no idea what to say, only squeaking out an "I'll try." Beth smiled and dematerialized. Constance closed her mind to all interference and ran the rest of the way to the main building.

"Are you leaving now?" asked Angelique as Constance stood before the door the landing."

"Yes."

"Are you ready?"

"I suppose," answered Constance weakly.

Angelique took her aside and said, "You'll be all right."

"I'm not worried about myself." Before giving her a chance to answer, Constance opened the door and walked onto the landing.

Constance immediately zoomed in on Quentin the moment she entered. The suit he was wearing seemed to be an Edwardian throwback, bringing back bittersweet memories of being lost at sea, of being lost in his eyes. But neither of them had known the truth about the other at that time. Those days had not been happier, but there was a certain innocence to that time that Constance longed to recapture. She slid down the banister and ran into his arms, kissing him on impact. "I'm sorry that I took so long. We'll probably be late."

"Nonsense," insisted Quentin jovially. "We won't be late and, even if we are, it won't be a horrible thing." He kissed her, pulling her closer than he had in a while. "We'll be together."

Constance noticed something seemed to trouble him. She leaned in and whispered, "What's wrong, darling?"

"Nothing," he whispered back. "Everything is perfectly fine. Well, not perfectly fine, but things are extremely good."

"I suppose you're right. Things will only get better. They only need a little room to do so." They pulled away slightly and turned to leave. Barnabas and Angelique stood at different ends of the room, both obviously worried and both attempting to hide their emotions. Constance could not blame them for putting up the happy face for show because she knew that both she and Quentin were doing the same thing. She bid them goodbye before she and Quentin left the building. "Are you ready to leave?" she asked him once they were outside.

"More than ever," said Quentin. "I don't want to come back for a long while."

"I don't either," said Constance as she stepped into the car. "Lets never come back."

"If I have my way," said Quentin as they pulled out of the driveway, "we never will."

Constance sighed in relief and fell back into the seat. She took one brief look at Collinwood before turning her attention back to Quentin. As they sped away, the house did not seem so foreboding, growing smaller and smaller until it became a speck of dust perched atop the hill. Constance gladly turned back to Quentin, happy to be done with one sorrow but horrified of the one just over the horizon.

Go to: Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4

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