Collinsport. On this chill October night Nicole Collins and Esther Friedman have made a most miraculous journey “ a journey from this dimension into another. A journey initiated by Catriona Kaye, via the use of a mysterious Silver Key. There in a desert wasteland she has revealed an eminent danger not only to Collinsport but also to the world. But as Nicole and Esther return to the Old House, they will soon discover that on this night there are even more secrets and threats to be revealed.
It had been a long, quiet ride from the beach house.
In the darkness of the lonely two-lane highway, Nichole Collins” nocturnal, vampiric vision views the road, beyond the windscreen, as a highly detail panorama, in which her sharp, predatory peripheral is ever aware of the slightest movements alongside the nearly deserted roadway. She drives in what appears to be a dispassionate silence contemplating everything that Catriona Kaye had told her in the Wasteland. Kaye had brought them back to the beach house just as suddenly as she had whisked them away into the dreamlands. But Catriona Kaye was not entirely Catriona Kaye “ she was in fact two people inhabiting the same body: Catriona Kaye and Victoria Wren. The question was which one of them should she trust. Or should she trust either of them.
They ride in silence.
What is Nikki thinking? What is she planning? She seems much too sedate, Esther thinks as she turns her glance from Nicole back once more to the passenger window, where she could barely discern the blurred shapes of the passing countryside in the darkened miasma beyond the safety glass.
Kaye! Wren? Whomever had that damned key. That Silver Key.
Esther had no idea where in the hell they had been, one moment they were in the beach house the next in some desert wasteland and then back again. All she knew for certain was that once again, Kaye and that goddamned kooky club of hers were trying to jerk Nik around again “ and they certainly knew the buttons to push.
Her father.
And that frickin experiment they constantly reiterated, over and over again.
It’s all a ploy “ they trot the damned thing out every time they wanted something from her.
The end of the world this time: that’s what Kaye had said . . . Nik’s mother was going to bring about the end of the world. Well, perhaps if she did then she wouldn’t have to worry about Stephen Báthory and that f**king contract.
Nicole Collins downshifts the Ferrari and with a high precision whine of the engine, she sweeps the sleek, black car off the highway and on to the rough, chip and tar of the narrow access road, which wound it’s way upward “ to the Old House and it’s estate. The road was certainly not as steep as the one leading up to the Great House of Collinwood that sat perched high atop Widow’s Hill, overlooking the North Atlantic.
A shift of gears “ Nikki’s hand effortlessly working the gearshift “ the car glides along, as she is seemingly unconcerned about the undercarriage.
Esther takes a deep breath “ and exhales a long sigh. They are almost home.
She just wants to be out of this skirt!
The high beams cut across the stark front of the Old House as the car races up the drive.
Around the portcullis, she pulls the car to a jerking halt, and turns off the engine.
Esther’s hand already on the latch of the door, she stops as Nikki sits behind the wheel silently looking out the windshield.
The cooling engine of the car ticks.
“Something wrong Nik?” Esther looks through the windshield at the gloomy mansion.
Eyes narrowing, she turns to Esther, “Something is not right.”
“I know. That desert . . . the whole frickin thing’s not right . . . “
Nikki nods in agreement, “Yes, but I mean here . . . now.”
Esther turns to look at Nikki.
Nicole Collins snaps open the door of the Ferrari and steps out. Esther, glancing across the driver’s seat to see Nik, standing there in the breeze, almost as if she were an animal sensing something on the wind, was well aware she has given herself over to her vampiric nature.
And then, suddenly, she moves in what seems like one blurring motion.
The wind catches in her hair as she looks about the drive; the front lawn; the swaying tops of the trees that seem to ever encroach upon the front lawn, these hostile woods ever wanting to take back their land; the rustle of leaves scampering across the drive like frightened mice “ Nicole closes her eyes “ senses; feels; sees the old car that was sitting a few feet from where she is standing, but is not there any longer.
Esther gets out of the car and sighs “ looks like another long night.
Nichole says vehemently to the wind, “The gypsy!”
“What?” Esther asks.
Nikki’s eyes open. “He’s . . . been here.” she says suddenly turning to look back at Esther closing the car door.
Esther rubs the bridge of her nose, “He? Which He are we talking about this time?”
Nikki turns and marches toward the front doors.
“My grandfather—Edward Hutchinson . . . Petofi!” The name Petofi said with violence.
She whips open the double doors and sweeps into the foyer.
Her vampiric senses reaching out and detecting the last lingering presence of her grandfather’s aura “ only it is oddly different now then when she last was in his presence.
Esther hurries after her not in any state of mind to be dealing with any of this shit . . . not tonight, not this late.
“Show yourself . . . Count!” Nikki’s voice commands.
Although she has heard it before, Esther is momentarily shocked at the amazingly compelling tone of Nikki’s voice “ it has a surreal quality to it.
It’s the voice of the Vampire within.
“He’s gone. Left rather in a hurry.” The voice says calmly from the fireplace.
Nicole whirls at the sound of the voice seeing a tall, blond man standing by the fire, a drink in hand. Too preoccupied with her grandfather’s unwanted presence in her house “ she had overlooked him.
Nikki’s eyes narrow, “And who are you?”
Esther throws her hands to the sky, “Godd**nit, more Intruders!”
She glances at the stairs “ her gun’s in her bedroom where she left it when she had finished cleaning it earlier this afternoon.
The tall, blond gentleman steps forward, “So, you must be Nicole.” There is a commanding grace to his stride, the carriage of his shoulders. He has a petulant mouth. “Barnabas’s daughter I hear.”
“It would be wise of you to answer me, who are you.”
Oh, yes, she has the infection, he thinks as he walks forward toward the foyer: “I? I am Roger Collins.”
Esther steps closer to Nikki, “Should I call the cops on this ass?”
“I do love what you have done to the place.” He waves the hand holding his drink to indicate the front of the mansion, “I must say, it is far grander than it was when your father lived here. Electricity is such a nice touch.”
“ . . . Or did you just want me to kick him out myself.” And Esther removes her jacket calculating how quickly she can get to her gun “ there is of course the revolver in the kitchen drawer “ unless he has already helped himself to it “ as he has the glass, ice, and the liquor.
Nikki’s keen eyes darken “Roger Collins? That’s impossible. Roger Collins is in the hospital and he is ninety-four years old . . and you are not a day over . . .”
“Thirty-five?” He replies with a rather conceited smile. “It is all rather amazing, isn’t it?” He continues now as he strides over to the end table and lifts up the decanter of scotch, which Victor Fenn-Gibbon, or Count Petofi, Roger was uncertain which alias he was currently using, had had Aristede bring to the Old House “ along with a fashionable suit of clothes.
Where Aristede had gotten them “ heaven only knows.
Well, maybe not heaven.
“How do I know you’re who you say you are?”
He pours the amber liquid into his glass and recaps the decanter, “Now that is the dilemma “isn’t it.” He puts the decanter down and lifts his glass. “If one regains one’s youth, there then is the question of one’s identity.”
He lifts his glass and takes a refreshing sip “ it has been so long since he had a taste of liquor. “But then, my dear Nichole, I should think that you of all people would know what is possible, or even I dare say, what is permissible in this perverse world we Collins” inhabit.”
“Perverse world?”
“I do hear that you share your father’s old affliction.”
She steps over to him, “That proves nothing” least of all who you are.”
“Or what you are doing breaking in to this house!” Esther adds, and then looks anxiously at Nikki “ as he has just admitted he knows she is a vampire, “or why we are even engaging in conversation with this . . . lying thief!”
“That’s the second time tonight someone has called me a thief.” Roger said with indignation, “Of all the things I am guilty of “ thievery is not among them.”
Nikki looks at Esther and then back to the tall, blond man before her; she steps forward . . .”Look into my eyes.”
He smiles and rattles the cubes of ice in his glass, “Oh, yes, the gaze—I should have thought of that. Yes, by all means, rifle about through my memories.”
Esther rolls her eyes. God is there no end? Can we not just call the cops once and let these people rot in jail? She throws her hands in the air and puts her jacket on the rack. If she’s learned anything tonight, it’s that she has goy to enhance the security system for this house “ CCT. Bars. Deadbolts. Landmines.
Nikki steps closer, her blue eyes growing darker as she looks into his mind . . . she detects the fresh thoughts of pain and death . . . and IV drips . . . LCDs on monitors . . . the scent of disinfectant . . . of old age . . . mixed with the pungent odor of stale urine . . . there is helplessness, and then . . . there is anger . . . and a hatred for the woman . . . a longing for the great house . . . Collinwood . . . home . . . an old tweed jacket . . . he’s a child now running headlong through the long, gloomy corridors, chasing his sister . . . hiding in the secret passages . . . their father Jamison in his study . . . another stern warning to stay away from the West Wing . . . it is haunted . . . but he will never admit it. . . Collins Enterprises . . . the fishing fleet . . . he’s never had a head for business . . . Devlin . . . Burke Devlin . . . the bastard . . . using Winters . . . wanting Laura . . . the accident . . . His own son trying to kill him . . . the brakes . . . lovely Cassandra . . . and Blair . . . and more anger . . . and fear . . . David . . . we need to send the boy away . . . he is spoiled and possibly deranged “ like his mother . . . perhaps it is best for all concerned that we send him away Liz . . . you have to control your temper . . . can never take back what the boy heard . . . yes father was right, he always said it would get the better of me . . . need a drink . . . need Barnabas . . . yes, Barnabas . . . he needs to find Barnabas . . . he will make things right . . . he can stop her . . . he is a vampire . . . found out much too late . . . after he was cured . . . but still . . . should have known . . . Julia Hoffman . . . as crazy as he is . . . they left together . . . Barnabas, he doesn’t love her, uses her but doesn’t love her . . .they left for England . . . left us alone . . . left us with our murder and sin . . . was it because of her secret . . . Elizabeth, poor Elizabeth . . . she had withheld the truth for far too long . . . only she did bring her here . . . to Collinwood . . . she should never should have brought her here . . . he wants her . . . A drink, Roger. . . . this drink’s for you”
“Petofi!” Nikki all but snarls at the name, “He-he returned your youth?” She frowns as she remains within the corridors of his mind, the shadows of his memories, “Because he wants . . . oh my god!”
Roger stands looking into her eyes; aware of her mind within his as she has been racing through his memories . . .
“And you agreed?” She snaps, breaking the trance.
Roger Collins blinked, then looked at her with the infamous Roger Collins aloofness, “When one is looking death in the face my dear, one makes all manner of deals with the devil.”
“What was he doing in my house?”
“Who?” Esther asks. “Petofi was in this house?”
Then she had not killed him!
“How did he get in?” She asks “
“He was here when I arrived.” Roger explains, “Thus, I can assume he is not a house guest?”
Esther looks at him, “How did YOU get in?”
“The front door.” He tells her, “The front door was open my dear.” He takes a step forward and looks at Esther with a cold, aristocratic gaze, “I am sorry, I don’t think we have been properly introduced . . . and you are?”
“I live here.” Esther tells him, “And you have not answered the question as to why you are here.”
“I came looking for Nicole’s father.”
“Nikki’s father?” She crosses her arms and gives him the glare of a woman with too many problems to put up with this bullshit.
Roger walks past Esther, giving her the stern Collins look, and steps over to the painting of Barnabas Collins, “Yes, I was looking for Barnabas.” He stops and gazes at the painting. “I learned very late in our relationship just what he had been “ and what he had done to protect the family. And, tonight, I knew that if anyone could help in getting rid of her again it would be Barnabas.”
“She is here for David?” Nicole asks.
“Yes.” He says firmly, “And she shall not have him. If Barnabas is not her . . . then I trust you shall find a way to stop her.”
“Me?” Nicole replies
He turns from the portrait and returns to the side table to refresh his drink. “Yes. I would hope that like your father you have some remorse or regret concerning those you feed upon, and so, in order to seek some form of redemption, as he did in protecting the family “ I assume you will now take it upon yourself to fulfill that role. To protect us as best you can from the curse.”
“The curse.” Nicole asks.
“The Collins Family curse “ you can’t run away from it, Nicole. You are part of this family and we are all . . . cursed.”
Esther sighs, and once again throws her hands up at her friend’s predisposition to have conversations with people that break into her house rather than just shooting them or at least calling the police “ and especially those who know her secret. She cannot continue being this trusting or naïve. As she moves toward the stairs, shaking her head “ she wants even more desperately to get out of this f**king skirt.
Nicole glides over to the sofa and has a seat “ motioning for Roger Collins to take the chair across from her, “Tell me . . . about Laura “ precisely, what is it about her that concerns you so?”
“I am not certain how much of our family secrets you know, or what you found racing through my mind, but Laura Radcliff Stockbridge is my ex-wife. David’s mother. And she has returned to Collinsport, and it can be for nothing other than something entirely diabolical and evil.”
“I gather there is more to her than being just David’s mother.” Nikki says.
“Laura, besides being crazy and vindictive, is not like everyone else. “ He takes a seat and sighs, “Even before she was a Collins, or perhaps why she became a Collins. You see, she has certain powers and abilities “ one of which is to be continually consumed by fire and reborn. Thus she is able to maintain her immortality. She is what they call a Phoenix.”
“A Phoenix?”
He waves his hand, “It anyone should understand all of this, it is you. Yes, a Phoenix. One of the dead rising up from its ashes “ that sort of thing. “
Nicole sits looking at him trying to remember what her father had written about her in his journals.
“And she has come back to try and do something to David.” He explains.
“What is she going to try and do to David?”
“When she returned the last time “ she wanted to kill him. To have him consumed by flame in her arms “ I would assume to make him as she is. “
“You say she is here, in Collinsport?”
“Yes. She came during visiting hours to see me at the hospital. Wanted to make certain I was aware that she was back “ and that when she is finished with David she says she intends to destroy Collinsport.”
Nikki smiles sardonically, “More than one person has said they were going to do that and yet the village remains.”
Esther having changed now leans on the upstairs railing, her shotgun slung over her shoulder. Not at the ready, but definitely armed. Just in case.
Roger glances back over this shoulder to look up at Nicole’s companion, “Hmm,” and then looks back at Nicole, “It would seem your friend does not trust me.”
“I don’t trust you. Not after having made arrangements with Count Petofi.”
“Yes, well . . . “ he stares for a moment into his glass, “That arrangement my dear is fairly useless as you see the one he is looking for is dead””
“I am sorry Mr. Collins, but I have found that when it comes to the Count, he is usually very accurate in what he knows “ in particular when it concerns him . . . and he seems to think she is still alive.”
“Well that is his concern. My concern is my son and whether or not you will help me?”
“You are aware that this elixir is short-lived. It will not last.”
He looks at her “It need only last long enough for me to stop her.”
Roger Collins takes a defiant drink.
“For what reason does he believe he needs your help?” Nikki asks, having perhaps too hurriedly ransacked through his memories.
“He wants me to help him locate a Stairway into Time.”
“That was destroyed.”
“Well I wouldn’t know. I have never heard of it.” Roger tells her “ “And so you see I can be of little assistance to that madman.”
Nicole Collins leans forward, her blue eyes taking on an arctic hue, “Mr. Collins, why is he looking for Victoria Winters?”
He sighs and looks at his empty glass.
“Mr. Collins?”
“Victoria was . . . she was my sister’s daughter. Of course, we didn’t know that at the time, when Liz brought Miss Winters here to Collinwood from the foundling home, where she had given her up when she was an infant.”
“That does not explain why he wants her.”
“She’s one of the well-kept family secrets. Even Miss Winters didn’t know. As Liz kept it all to herself “ we all were unaware until, well, until Elizabeth was about to pass away.”
“Why does Petofi want her?”
He sits back and looks at Nicole grimly, “Because my dear he is Victoria Winters’ father.”
Cue Music End of Episode