Part 17 (2/2)

”Thank you.”

Maggie moved away. ”We've both changed a great deal since last summer,” she said.

”Yes. Yes, we have.”

”I know things could never be the way they were between us - but I hope we're still friends.”

”We will always be friends, Maggie,” he told her earnestly.

”Good If you ever need someone to talk to. I'm right here.”

”That's a very generous offer, Maggie.” She turned to look at him - and went totally still. ”What's wrong?” Barnabas asked, seeing the expression of fear bordering on terror.

”The -the way you're looking at me.”

Now Barnabas turned away just as Quentin's voice said, ”Am I interrupting something?”

Barnabas avoided his cousin's eyes. ”No. I was just leaving. I wouldn't stay out too much longer, Maggie.”

”I won't. Goodnight, Barnabas.”

Once he was gone, Quentin touched Maggie's arm. ”Hey. You're s.h.i.+vering. Cold?” He took her in his arms.

”No. I -I don't know why, but I was frightened of Barnabas, Quentin.”

”Frightened?”38.

She nodded. ”Something about him -” She seemed to realize that his arms were around her, and gently pushed away. ”I'd better go inside.”

”I'll walk you up -” ”That's alright. You don't have to -” ”I want to. And I want to give you some advice. Stay away from Barnabas right now, Maggie. He's hurting - and he just might hurt you without meaning to.”

He had given her a similar warning once before - just before they had begun to see each other as more than friends. Now, Maggie shook her head. ”I can't believe that Barnabas would hurt me.”

”I'm serious, Maggie.” ”At least you can be serious about something,” she countered. Seeing the way his blue eyes hardened at her jibe, she turned away. ”It's late, and I've had a long day. Goodnight.”

Quentin stood on the terrace for a long moment, allowing his temper to cool. He was going to have to have a talk with his Cousin Barnabas.

Maggie knew she shouldn't have baited Quentin as she had, but his inability to make any move in her direction had been one of the reasons she had chosen to leave with Sebastian. She'd hoped that it would cause Quentin to declare his feelings - but it hadn't seemed to affect him at all. She dressed for bed, then went to the window to look down at the terrace. He was gone, probably into town to have a few drinks. She sighed, and since the night was warm enough, she left the windows open. Within minutes, she was asleep.

She didn't hear the soft sound of wings, nor see Barnabas appear at the foot of her bed. He stood there, watching her sleep, indecision mingling with need on his face. How can I consider this? I don't want to. If I go into Collinsport, Julia will be more likely to discover what I've done. She would never suspect that I would use Maggie. Just this once. And Quentin won't know. Looking down at her, he

saw again her resemblance to Josette, knew that resemblance had nothing to do with this. She was not Josette - and never could be. But he needed blood. Why not Maggie's? She turned her head, still asleep, and the soft, vulnerable skin of her neck was exposed to the moonlight that filtered into the room. Barnabas could hesitate only a moment longer before bending over her to sink his fangs into that white flesh.

Julia was pacing the drawing room nervously when Barnabas entered. She knew better than to question his whereabouts. ”I was beginning to worry. Quentin stopped by and said you had left Collinwood some time ago.”

”I went for a walk,” he told her. It was impossible for him to meet her eyes, afraid that she would see what he had done, and he decided that his best defense was to attack. ”Why aren't you down in your laboratory? Or have you decided that your search for a cure is futile?”

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