"I think it best if you don't know that. Then Barnabas can't force you to tell him. Where is he, by the way?"

"I think he's downstairs with Elizabeth. I don't want to go back to that house with him, Quentin. He's become cruel, and -"

Quentin rose and put an arm around her, pulling her against him. "There, there. You don't have to go back if you don't want to. I'll be leaving Collinwood in a few days -you can go with me -"

The door opened violently, and Barnabas stood there, anger in every line of his body. "She's not going anywhere with you." He held out his hand. "Come here, Angel-ique."

Quentin kept his arms around her. "She doesn't want to, Barnabas."

"Let her decide. Come here." Angelique shrugged off Quentin's arms and slowly moved away.

"NO! She's chosen me this time."

Angelique put her hand in Barnabas. "Go downstairs, Angelique - or back to the Old House -"

"I'd rather stay," she said quietly.

"Very well. But don't interfere."

"I won't."

"Perhaps it's best if you do stay. Now Quentin can tell you who he really is."

"I beg your pardon?"

"Tell her."

"There's nothing you can do to make me say a thing," Quentin said, picking up his gla.s.s.

"I wouldn't be too sure of that."

Perhaps there was something in that tone that he recognized, for he gave a

decidedly nervous laugh. "You're joking, right?"

"I'm not joking. I'm very serious. Now, are you going to tell her the truth, or do I have to force it out of you?"

"I would love to see you try, Barnabas."

"As you wish." He stared at the window until it opened, and then told Quentin, "Look outside."

Nervous now, he turned and paled when he saw the axe suspended in the darkness. "No!"

"Then tell her your name. Tell her from whom she has been seeking comfort."

When there was no response, the axe began to move closer, making a chopping motion. Frightened, he cried out. "JUDAH! Judah Zachary." He slumped into a chair as the axe vanished. "You. You're Aaron For-sythe."

"I'm pleased you still remember me, Judah. I swore revenge on you once, many years ago."

"You had your revenge. I was found guilty. Beheaded."

"So you were. But you're back now, and attempting to cause harm to those under my protection. I cannot allow that."

"What are you going to do to stop me? I have the portrait of Quentin Collins. Even if I didn't, you wouldn't destroy him."

"You think not? Quentin may be a coward, terrified of death and the werewolf curse, but he is a Collins and is loyal to his family. He has lived a long life, and I think that if he were not such a coward he would have destroyed that portrait himself before now."

The belief that Aaron might be right put Judah on the defensive as he attacked. "So, my dear Miranda. You have betrayed me again. You knew when you came here tonight that he had remembered Forsythe, didn't you?"

She lifted her chin, facing him bravely. "Yes. I knew."

"Three times. And every time because of him. Well, it's the last time you will96.

ever betray me to anyone." As he moved nearer, Barnabas' voice cut across the room.

"Leave her alone, Judah." When Judah took another step, the velvet slipped further. "I know what frightens you more than anything else, Judah. It's the reason you chose Quentin: He can't age. As long as that portrait exists, his body will remain as it is now. Unless -"

"Unless what?" Judah wanted to know, his interest transferred from Miranda to Aaron.

"Unless I remove the spell from the portrait. Look at your hand, Judah."

Lifting a trembling hand upward into this line of vision, he saw that the skin had begun to wither and age. "NO! I won't let it happen!"

"It's too late, Judah. As your body ages, the portrait will become younger. And very soon, you will feel a great pain throughout your body, presaging the transformation into a werewolf," Aaron said calmly.

"Stop this, Aaron! Don't let it happen!"

The part of Barnabas that was Aaron felt much satisfaction at hearing Judah beg for mercy. "I can stop it, and I will - if you release Roger Collins from the spell you placed on him." Judah hesitated. "You haven't long."

Judah went to the roll-top desk and opened a secret panel, removing a wax effigy of Roger. "I have to take it to the fire," he said dispiritedly.

Barnabas stepped out of the way, motioning Angelique to remain silent as she began to say something. There was no reason to hear the words aloud. Judah had given in too easily.

When Judah reached the hearth, he began to recite an incantation removing the spell. As he reached its conclusion, he threw the wax figure into the fire. Before Angelique could do more than gasp, Barnabas lifted his hand and the fire was extinguished, the embers cold. Reaching into the dark coals, Barnabas retrieved the figure and

examined it. "Luckily for you, there was no damage." He carefully gave it to Angelique. "Take care of this until later when I can safely dispose of it." He turned back to the grate and raised his hand again. The flames began to flicker. "Now. Where is the portrait?"

Realizing he was beaten, Judah sat down heavily. "The cottage."

"Thank you for making that easy. Now. What shall we do with you? If I let you leave Quentin as he was, then no doubt you will simply try again."

"I won't."

"Do you really expect me to trust you, Judah? No, I'm afraid you must be banished."

"Banished," he repeated. "A fitting end."