Chapter 17: Cycles
"My name is Victoria Winters. Death is no stranger to the residents of the great house of Collinwood. Like an unwelcome guest, he has returned often, leaving sorrow and pain in his wake. Yet often the cycle continues, life coming from death, renewal from destruction. And sometimes, this can be even more frightening and sinister than death itself."
SCENE 1
"Richard, I can't thank you enough for working up this information so quickly for me," Elizabeth said, pouring herself another cup of tea. Richard Garner had come over with all the legal preparation she had asked for regarding the possible return of Roger's estranged wife, Laura. She had finished looking it over and now the two of them were having tea in the drawing room.
"It was my pleasure, Liz," he said easily. "With any luck, it will all be unnecessary, but I agree that you should be prepared, just in case." He smiled at her. She couldn't help but smile back.
"Still, it must have been quite a lot of work. And it only took you a week. I'm quite impressed." She sipped her tea.
"Don't be. I didn't do it all myself. That's what law clerks are for." He chuckled. "And, of course, Frank did most of the work on the divorce laws. He is the expert, after all." Richard put his cup on the coffee table. "Now enough about business." His eyes sparkled. "When are we going to have that dinner you promised me?"
Liz was caught off guard. She stammered and hesitated for a moment, unsure how to answer this.
A laugh issued from Richard's lips. Elizabeth gave him a hard look. He quickly stifled the laughter, though not very successfully. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to seem insensitive. But Liz, it was only a dinner invitation, not a marriage proposal. It hardly required a great deal of thought. I just figured that since I'm alone, and you're alone, we could keep each other company. It's as simple as that."
She looked at him calculatingly. "Somehow, I don't think it would be 'as simple as that.' Don't forget, I'm still a married woman."
The lawyer leaned forward. "Paul Stoddard left you almost eighteen years ago. It's time to move on with your life."
The doorbell rang, saving Liz from a conversation she did not want to have. "Mrs. Johnson is in Boston for a few days. I need to get that." She rose and went to the door, avoiding Richard's gaze. Opening the door, she saw a young delivery man. "Yes?"
"I have a special delivery letter for Mr. Roger Collins. Will you sign for it, Mrs. Stoddard?"
"Of course." He handed her the clipboard. She took the pen and signed in the marked space. Then she took the letter and handed the clipboard back.
"Thank you," he said, tipping his hat. She closed the door as he walked away.
There it was. The return address she was dreading. She looked up and saw Roger on the stairs. She called to him. "Roger!" He looked down at her. "Come here."
Roger looked puzzled, but walked down the steps. He got to the bottom just as Richard came out of the drawing room. "Liz, is everything all right?"
Roger turned to him. "Garner, what are you doing here?"
His sister came up to him. "Richard came over to bring me the legal work I asked him for regarding Laura's possible return. And it looks like it was very timely, too." She held out the envelope to him. "You have another special delivery letter from Briarcliff Sanitarium."
Roger's face grew grim as he took the letter from her. Turning it over, he said caustically, "At least it's unopened this time." Liz ignored the comment.
The three of them were silent as Roger tore open the envelope and read the enclosed letter. Suddenly Roger's eyes widened, and he went very pale.
Concerned, Liz asked, "Roger, what's wrong?"
He looked up at Richard. "I'm sorry you went to so much trouble for nothing." He took a deep breath. "According to this letter, six days ago Briarcliff Sanitarium burned to the ground." Liz gasped, her hands flying to cover her mouth. Even Richard's usually unshakable demeanor seemed shocked. "Most of the staff and patients escaped with only minor injuries. However, there was one casualty. A patient named Laura Murdoch Collins."
SCENE 2
Barnabas Collins rolled down his sleeve. He had just finished up another session with Dr. Eric Lang; the skin still tingled around the injection site. The doctor had also taken a blood sample and left a few minutes ago to examine it. He wondered about the odd man who had given him a chance for a new life. How much did he really know about him? Shockingly little, considering the secret he had trusted him with. Yet there was nothing to be done for it. He had to become human permanently if he was to have any chance of getting Victoria Winters back.
Dr. Lang came back into the room. "Well, Mr. Collins, everything appears normal. Have you been experiencing any signs of regression- blood lust, any pain during the day, anything that seems out of the ordinary?"
Barnabas straightened his back, surprised by the question. "No, nothing," he responded. "I thought you said it would be several months before I started reverting back to what I was."
The doctor saw the concern in his patient and hastened to reassure him. "Oh, it definitely should be. I'm just being careful, and making sure you are aware of what is happening in your body. There are too many variables, such as age, body mass, etc. for me to be sure when your immunity to the serum will begin."
The ex-vampire relaxed. But the comment brought a question to his mind. "Dr. Lang, you mentioned before that you had treated other vampires."
Lang glanced up from his notes. "Another vampire, singular, Mr. Collins. While I said it was elitist of Dr. Hoffman to think you were the only vampire, vampirism is a rather rare disease."
"Tell me about the other vampire you treated. What happened to him?"
A sidelong glance accompanied Dr. Lang's next statement. "I'm sorry, Mr. Collins. I'm afraid there is very little I can tell you. Aside from the ethics of doctor/ patient confidentiality, which I adhere to strictly- and you should be glad of that for your own sake, Mr. Collins- I have no idea what happened to the first vampire I worked with. When the cure started to fail, he disappeared, and I never saw him again."
Barnabas was fascinated. "How long ago was that?"
"Well, let's see," Lang looked toward the ceiling in thought. "I would say about seven or eight years ago. It was before I moved to Collinsport. I was practicing in Boston at the time." He stopped, remembering to himself.
"Go on, Doctor," Barnabas urged him.
Lang came back to the present. "That's all I'm willing to tell you. I apologize, but please understand, I have my reasons."
While Barnabas had been enthralled by the thought that he was not alone in his condition, he did have another, more immediate concern. "Then tell me about this experiment of yours." His expression became dark, danger appearing in his eyes. "I am not normally a trusting person, Doctor, and it has taken a great deal of faith on my part to believe you with so little information."
"I can understand your frustration, Mr. Collins, as well as anxiousness," he said, ignoring Barnabas' stare. "But my experiment is outside the realm of what my colleagues would call 'normal science'. It is imperative that as few people know about my work as possible, until I am further along. Just please be patient for a few more weeks, Mr. Collins. Then I promise I will explain everything."
"Patience is not one of my greater virtues," he spoke sternly, but then sighed. "But it seems I have no choice." He stood from his chair. "So I will leave you to your work." He moved toward the doctor. "Just don't try what little patience I do have."
Unflinchingly, Lang told him, "I assure you, as soon as I am to a point where any danger has passed, I will tell you everything."
A disturbing thought came to Barnabas. "Is Jeff Clark aware of my part in all this?"
Lang waved off the suggestion. "No, of course not. He's familiar with my experiment of course, but Jeff knows nothing about your condition."
Barnabas picked up his cane from the coat rack. "Good. I don't want him to know anything about me." He began to put on his coat. "He is getting much too close to Victoria for him to have any dangerous knowledge."
Lang picked up on the note of harshness in Barnabas' voice. "You don't like Jeff Clark, do you?"
He hesitated. "No, I do not. Victoria has the absurd idea that Jeff is a man she fell in love with 200 years ago." Seeing Lang's puzzled expression, he said, "It is a long story. Let us just say that I don't like rivals for the affections of Victoria Winters."
Lang put his hand on Barnabas' shoulder. "Don't you worry about him." Lang grinned. "Believe me, Jeff Clark poses no threat to you at all."
