Barnabas felt his facial muscles freeze at Elizabeth’s words. Inwardly, he struggled to regain composure unaware that his cousin had already seen his “deer in the headlights” expression.

“Oh, I was not aware of that.” He hoped his voice sounded calmer than he felt. “Why did she go to San Francisco?”

“She’s attending some sort of medical conference.” Her voice was almost apologetic.

Roger uttered a loud “harrumph” as he rose to pour himself another brandy. “She didn’t go just for a conference; you don’t go to a conference for ten days.”

“Well, she did tell us she also planned to visit with an old friend while she was there. A Dr. Stephens, I believe she said.”

“More than just a friend, if you ask me.”

“Roger! We don’t know anything of the kind.” Elizabeth cast a surreptitious glance at Barnabas to gauge the effect of her brother’s insinuation. She thought her elegant cousin was looking decidedly sick to his stomach.

“Well, when have you ever known Julia to go away for ten days? And she had barely returned from New York-”

“New York?” Barnabas interrupted. “Julia was in New York, too?”

The Collins’ matriarch shot her brother an annoyed look; he certainly wasn’t making this any easier. “Why yes, Barnabas, Julia had previously gone to New York for a few days. Another conference, she said.”

She said. The words floated in the air between the three of them like an accusation. Barnabas had the distinct impression that Elizabeth had not entirely believed Julia’s explanation for her absence.

He swallowed down the anxiety that had left a bitter taste in his mouth and attempted to sound casual. “I see. Do you know when she will return?”

“She’s due back the day after tomorrow.”

“Well, then I shall look forward to seeing her in a few days.” His weak smile failed to fool Elizabeth who had begun to wonder in earnest what was going on between her old fashioned cousin and her permanent houseguest. “Now, why don’t you update me on what has been happening at Collinwood?”

Weariness descended upon Barnabas Collins as he trudged toward home, leaning heavily upon his silver cane. The full weight of his two hundred year existence seemed to have settled on his shoulders. Gone was the light-hearted optimism which had sped him along this path a few short hours ago.

He had forced himself to stay and visit with his cousins after he had learned the disturbing news about Julia. Not wanting to appear rude, he had chatted with them about family news, but he had found it difficult to concentrate on the conversation. His mind kept returning to Julia.

San Francisco! And New York before that. What was Julia doing? And how had their relationship deteriorated to the degree that she would fail to tell him she was going away?

Was she really going to medical conferences? Roger obviously had his doubts, and he had sensed some suspicion in Elizabeth as well.

What else could she be doing? A measure of paranoia began to creep into his thoughts. How dare she go away without informing him? How dare she-

His thoughts were interrupted as his foot caught under a gnarled tree root that protruded from the dirt path. His hand frantically sought support from a nearby tree as he teetered on one leg, in danger of sprawling face first on the ground. Finally finding purchase in a small, rough limb, he pulled himself upright and tried to catch his breath. A sharp sting on the back of his hand caught his attention; several long scratches inflicted by the branch he had grabbed were oozing blood. He automatically brought his hand to his mouth to ease the sting and to staunch the bleeding. And then he stopped….

Not so long ago, the salty taste of blood, the coppery smell of it would have driven him to madness. Not so long ago, any of the crimson fluid that flowed from his veins would not even have been his own. But now, it was his blood. Now it held no power over him, not the sight of it, not the smell of it, not the taste of it. He was human again and still amazed that he no longer must walk the night.

And it was all thanks to Julia.

Oh, Angelique may have lifted his curse, but it was Julia’s faith in him that had helped him survive long enough to be free again. He had been on a path to self-destruction when he had first emerged in this century. Without Julia’s efforts, without her friendship, he would not have survived for very long. Not to mention the number of times she had “saved his bacon” as Willie had so colorfully put it.

Julia had every right to do as she wished, to go where she pleased.

He understood that now.

Willie emerged from the drawing room when he heard his employer open the front door of the Old House. “How did it go, Barnabas?” he asked anxiously.

Barnabas walked past without looking at him and stood facing the fireplace. “She wasn’t there, Willie. Apparently, she hasn’t been at Collinwood in some time.”

“Whatcha talkin’ about, Barnabas?”

Collins slowly turned to face his young friend, his face so solemn that Willie’s heart was immediately gripped by fear. Something was obviously wrong.

“Julia has been in San Francisco for the past week. She doesn’t return until the day after tomorrow.”

“San Francisco!” Willie would have been much less surprised to hear that Julia had traveled to another century than to a city all the way across the country.

“And before that, she was in New York City.”

“What’s she doin’ in those places?”

“Elizabeth says she has been attending medical conferences.”

Willie steeled himself for the “She’s betrayed me!” speech, but Barnabas just sank into his chair with a small sigh.

“Whatcha gonna do, Barnabas?”

The older man looked up at him with dark eyes rimmed with sadness. “Do? What can I do?”

“Well, you’re not gonna just give up on your friendship, are ya?”

“No.”

But Willie was not happy with the tone of Barnabas’ answer; it was not very convincing. He could see that his friend was sinking into the melancholy that had so often claimed him throughout his long life. They needed a course of action.

“I know, Barnabas.” Willie’s eyes gleamed as an idea formed in his head. “This is what ya do. Write a note to invite her out to dinner for, say, the night after she gets back from her trip. That’d be a nice way to patch things up. Tell ya what: you write her the note, and I’ll take it over to Collinwood tomorrow.”

Loomis smiled as he watched Barnabas’ face begin to brighten. “You know, that is an excellent suggestion, Willie.” Collins fairly bounded out of his chair as he went to the desk, sat down, and pulled out a piece of cream-colored writing paper. He looked up and gave Willie a look of warm appreciation.

“Thank you, Willie.”

The handyman answered him with a big grin and turned to leave. “You’re welcome, Pinocchio,” he said over his shoulder.

Barnabas frowned at the puzzling reference before returning to the task at hand. But he could have sworn he heard Willie say, “We’ll turn you into a real boy yet, ya woodenhead,” as the young man walked jauntily away down the hall.

Part Five