Blood Scar ch. 2 From: Beverly LaCroix Chapter 2 Agony's Aching Arms Morgan stepped back, his bloodlust forgotten when he caught the scent of rosewater emanating from the beautiful young woman. Black tendrils like chains reaching out for him, and the smell of rosewater was threatening to suffocate him. The diseased scent was coming from her, he knew she had been tainted by the madness that was a part of that room upstairs, and it still clung to her like death. She had not rid herself of it, and seemed to have no desire to be rid of the infection of evil. In fact, it seemed as though there was something more that had touched her with its fiery palm, and left an imprint he couldn't begin to fathom, and did not want to try. Panic was rising up in him, and he wanted to flee. He felt the blood scar begin to throb, and through the confusion that was pervading his brain he heard a familiar voice commanding him to move back, and not harm the woman. Barnabas sensed Morgan's fear immediately, and at first he thought it was because he had been discovered by Maggie. But he could almost hear Morgan's voice uttering the word "rosewater," and then it became a scream in his mind. Morgan couldn't move from fear. He was paralyzed by the fear. Barnabas couldn't understand what was wrong with his fledgling, but right now he had to get Maggie out of here. Morgan's fear was palpating, and Barnabas begin to feel dizzy from the overpowering emotions coming from Morgan. Stumbling, Barnabas caught the back of the wingback chair, and Quentin grabbed Maggie from behind and whirled around pulling her into his embrace. Not knowing what was going on he knew something was definitely wrong. Now, he noticed Morgan was clutching the blood scar on his neck an grimacing as if in pain, but more than that he looked frightened. Quentin had never seen a vampire look frightened before and it unnerved him. "Quentin, let me go," Maggie said good-natured. "Oh, I'm sorry, Maggie. But you always have that effect on me," Quentin said teasingly, chucking her under the chin in a playful mood. "Oh, you." Maggie chided. Then noticing Barnabas, she said, "Barnabas, are you all right?" Walking to him, he took her hand in his, and said, "of course, darling, I just haven't eaten yet." Quentin noticed Barnabas did seem a little more composed now. "Okay, you two, who's your visitor? I know he's a Collins, it's all over him. But I don't know him, and I haven't heard of any visitors here, Barnabas." Maggie said. "Can't I have some surprises?" Barnabas asked her intimately. "No, you can't." she joked back. "Morgan, come over here and meet Maggie, David and Hallie's, and sometimes Amy's governess." Quentin said, taking over the situation before Barnabas and Maggie ended up locked in each other's arms, Quentin thought when he took over. "Barnabas, what is it?" Maggie asked. Barnabas knees had bucked and Maggie was trying to keep him from falling, and Quentin hurriedly helped her take him to the sofa. "Willie!" Quentin yelled. "Maggie, maybe you'd better go and get Dr. Hoffman." Quentin suggested holding her hand, trying to comfort her. He could tell she was getting very upset. She'd never seen Barnabas like this. And for that matter neither had he, Barnabas was beginning to make choking sounds like he couldn't breathe. But Quentin knew that was impossible, Barnabas didn't need to breathe. Now, he felt panic start to rise up in him. "Go, Maggie!" Quentin urged, trying to control the panic from sounding in his voice. WILLIE!" Quentin yelled again after Maggie had left. Barnabas seemed to be coming out of it now, Quentin noticed. "Morgan -- see to Morgan, Quentin." Barnabas said with difficulty, but Quentin could see him returning to normal. 'Morgan." Quentin called softly. Quentin heard him moaning, and gagging almost like he was going to throw up. "Morgan, what's wrong?" Quentin asked, as he grabbed ahold of him, and kept him from falling to the floor. "Quentin, what is it? Why were you yelling for me?" Willie asked, noticing Morgan, and reached out and grabbed the other side of him, helping Quentin. "Not the sofa, Willie," Quentin said when he noticed Willie headed for the sofa in the drawing room. "Barnabas is in there. Let's take him to Josette's Room." Quentin said. "Let me go!" Morgan shouted as he struggled to free himself of the men holding onto him, and having regained some of his strength was successful. "Morgan! It's okay. Calm down." Quentin said softly. "I'm not going in that room, Quentin." Morgan said strongly. Willie looked as if he were going to say something and Quentin shot him a look that stopped him. Willie didn't particularly care for Quentin most of the time, and this Morgan was another story. Willie shrugged, and said, "'l'll be in my room if you need me, Quentin. I'm gonna check on Barnabas first," Willie said walking toward the drawing room. The blood scar was throbbing with pain. Morgan thought he had headaches that hadn't hurt this bad. Touching the scar with his long tapered fingers, and slightly stroking it seemed to help some, but not a lot. That seemed to evoke other feelings he couldn't understand. He was always hungry, could hear Quentin's blood rushing through his veins. He could smell the tantalizing coppery aroma of Willie's blood, and hear the pulse beats that were like the Sirens deadly song luring a man to his sure destruction. He needed blood! This hunger was becoming unbearable, but he was not going to become a slave to this. He wanted to cease his existence, this one was as bad if not worse than the one he had come from in his own time. "Morgan, are you all right?" A very weak Barnabas asked, breaking him out of his morbid thoughts. "You're the carrier, you know." Morgan stared at Barnabas very seriously, as he said the statement in a even more serious voice. "Morgan, why are you clutching your throat?" Barnabas asked Morgan gently. "It hurts." Morgan replied almost doubled over in pain by now. Walking to his fledgling, he bent down, and lifted him, and touched the blood scar, it was hot to the touch. Barnabas left his hands there, very softly massaging the scar, and he could see the pain lifting from Morgan's face, as well as feel it ebbing away. Pushing his hair back out of his face, he cupped Morgan's chin in his hand, and said, "now, do you want to tell me what that was all about?" Barnabas asked. Morgan struggled, trying to move away from Barnabas, finally gave up and collapsed into his unrelenting embrace, but refused to speak. Barnabas was getting very frustrated, his fangs descended, and Quentin watched in horror at the scene before him, not knowing what he should do. Barnabas was angry, he could feel it palpating from where he was standing, and Morgan seemed to be in a state of paralysis. Panic had overtaken him when he sensed what Barnabas was about to do, and started his useless struggle again. "Morgan," the hypnotic voice began. "Barnabas!" Quentin said finally shaking off the paralysis of what was happening before him. "Barnabas," Quentin repeated softly, finally getting the vampire's attention, "don't do this. Morgan is sick. Something is wrong. Don't do this. It might make it worse." Quentin held his breath, because the sight of Barnabas with his fangs showing, and his eyes flashing red scared the hell out of him, and he wasn't sure what he would do next. Expelling his breath when Barnabas let Morgan go, and turned back to his cousin, and said, "Perhaps you're right. Morgan, tell me what is wrong? What the hell did you think you were doing when Maggie was here?" Looking at Barnabas with contempt and hate in his black flashing eyes he said, "she looks like Josette, and you've ruint her with your vile nature. She has the scent of rosewater, and blackness all inside her. You caused it, you and your bride. The witch that looks like the whore I'm married to. You carry the disease and you continue to spread it, don't you, Master. Your name may be Barnabas in this time frame, but you are nothing like Barnabas Collins where I come from. He was a fine, elegant, and gentle man. Your name should have been Bramwell, the demon he spawned. Nothing but pain has come from him, and you are no different. You are nothing but a foul evil creature who should have been destroyed centuries ago. You are a scourge who has the audacity to go around as a man, and tainting the unsuspecting with your evil depravity. You call yourself a Collins, you are not a Collins. "Morgan was growing angrier, and the tone of his voice deeper, and harsher. Quentin didn't think it possible for Barnabas to get paler, but he was. He felt helpless to stop this tirade, and he feared for this stranger in a time and year not his own. Barnabas' eyes were changing colors, time to get Cousin Morgan out of here. "Come on, Morgan, let's go," Quentin said grabbing him by the shirtsleeve. Quentin had been a little surprised at the knowledge that Morgan had of Barnabas and Angelique. He'd ask Barnabas about it later, because he couldn't imagine Barnabas confiding all this to someone he barely knew. But then the bond of a vampire and his child was very unique. Vampires had some very heightened and awesome supernatural powers, so maybe Morgan did know. Right now he had to get him out of reach of his cousin. "What are you doing to me, Quentin?' Morgan raged, as Quentin practically dragged him out of the door, almost tripping over Julia and Willie. Looking at Julia, he winked, and mouthed, "later." Quentin stopped dead in his tracks when he Morgan stopped him, and his eyes were glowing gold, and his fangs were descending. "Morgan, what are you doing?" Quentin felt himself being pulled in by the black hypnotic eyes of the vampire. Don't get locked in the vampire's gaze, he remembered Evan Hanley saying that to him almost a century before. That was his last thought as he found himself sinking willingly into the dark world of the vampire. Morgan could hear Quentin's blood flowing through his viens, it was calling him, softly. He could hear his heart beating. He needed the life, and the elixir rushing and calling to him. Quentin didn't have that sickening evil smell of rosewater coming from him. "Quentin, come, join me. the agony of my aching arms, and my tortured soul awaits you. The hunger cannot ignored any longer. I am sorry, " Morgan's soft seductive voice could not be denied.
************************************** See what's new at http://www.aol.com
