January 22, 2000

That morning, Donna appeared for breakfast in the ordinary way, to find a surprise. Neither Tompkins nor Christine were present this time. She was left alone with only the servants, who seemed to be uncertain about something, though of course they'd never dare tell her. Something was, had to be, wrong; this had never happened before. If Tompkins had intended to be away on business, she'd have at least been told as much. He never did anything on the spur of the moment, at least not where hs business dealings were concerned. Even if he had been called away on some emergency, that didn't explain Christine's simultaneous absence; never were they both away from home at the same time outside of formal dinners and the like , which never took place at this time of the day.

She was glad for the respite from Tompkins' and Christine's presence, at least for now, however long it would last, though she wondered what it could possibly mean. The servants, of course, couldn't or wouldn't tell her anything, even if they knew. Most of them were too afraid of Tompkins to do anything he had not specifically instructed them to; and that included talking to her about anything not absolutely necessary to doing their jobs. They might gossip with each other, but never around her, and since her empathic sense was blocked while she was in this house, she couldn't pick up anything that might've given her a clue what was happening.

She got through that day's tutoring session, then, for lack of anything she'd been specifically told to do, stayed in her room and spent the day reading. At least Tompkins hadn't denied her that; she supposed she should be thankful for small favors. At this point she'd take whatever tiny scraps of good things she could get. There were few enough of those as it was; far too few, she thought sadly.

* * * * * * * * * *

January 23, 2000

When she came down for breakfast that morning, Tompkins was still not there; but this time, Christine was. Donna knew for sure now that something major must have happened, not only because of Tompkins' absence, but also because Christine was angrier than Donna could ever remember having seen her before. She wondered again why Tompkins wasn't here. She didn't think it likely that there'd been an argument between them, it made no sense for Christine to still be here, but not Tompkins, had that been the case.

She couldn't work up the courage to ask Christine what was going on. Questions weren't something Christine encouraged from her under normal circumstances. Donna had gotten the definite feeling that whatever had happened, it wasn't normal circumstances. There was too strong a sense of everyone being on edge. Besides, with the mood Christine was in, Donna knew that asking any questions would only get her punished, and not get her any real answers.

* * * * * * * * * *

The rest of that week was to be even more of a minefield, a nightmare, for Donna than life in Tompkins' mansion usually was.

Not only did Tompkins not reappear, but Christine was clearly holding back rage at someone or something. The least little thing would set her off, even more so than usual. She would lash out at the slightest provocation, however insignificant it might have seemed to anyone else. It got to where Donna was afraid to even breathe too loudly around her. So she tried as hard as she could to simply stay out of Christine's sight, out of her way.

That was made easier by the odd fact that Christine was out most of the time herself, and didn't call Donna in for any more 'experiments'. That, too, was a welcome break from what passed for normal around here, and only went to further show Donna that whatever had happened must have been something major. Christine put such a high value on her experiments; therefore, anything that took her away from them had to be extremely important. Donna still, however, had no idea what had occurred, or how it would eventually affect her; she had a definite feeling it would do that sooner or later. She supposed she'd find out soon enough, once either Tompkins returned from wherever he had gone, or Christine decided to tell her what was going on-whichever of those events ended up happening first.

* * * * * * * * * *

February 1, 2000

Donna'd been growing all the more apprehensive as the week wore on. She knew Christine was close to exploding in a major way and she was terrified it'd be directed at her when it finally came. She still had no idea what it was all about; as not only had Tompkins not yet reappeared, but Christine hadn't yet taken the time to explain anything to her.

Then, that morning, Donna was summoned at last; not, however, to Christine's 'office', but to Tompkins'. That only happened when he wanted something, so she knew he must have returned from wherever he had been.

She sighed. Now, she supposed, she'd find out what'd been going on. However, as was always the case, she knew it wouldn't be anything she'd wanted to know. There was, however, no getting out of it--any attempt to do that would only earn her more punishments.

When she entered, both Tompkins and Christine were there. That, too, was definitely unusual. Normally, either of them usually had their sessions with her without the other present, though Donna had long known that that didn't mean they weren't fully aware of what each other did. Christine had said herself she always told Nathan everything, and Donna was certain the reverse was also true.

Donna waited for them to address her-for her to speak without being spoken to first was yet another thing they'd consider a breach of etiquette.. While she was doing so, she sensed something was different about Tompkins. What was it? She tried to focus, to pick up on it, and then the realization hit her.

The magic in him was gone, as completely as if it had never been. He'd had her 'read' plenty of normal, non-magical people, so she would learn to sense the difference. Now Tompkins 'felt' like an ordinary, normal human, at least in that sense. What could've happened to cause this? She was really wondering now.

His dark eyes narrowed. "I see you have realized what has happened." Tompkins said. "You should know that while this does pose a problem, it is not an insurmountable one. Christine will find a way to undo this, but until she does, we must be prepared for further difficulties. I do have enemies, as you can likely guess. They are the ones that have done this, and so now they think they have defeated me. I intend to teach them otherwise. That is where your assistance, as well as Christine's, will be required. Those fools are overconfident now; that will be their undoing."

Donna could only nod. At least, that was all she dared show. Inside, though, she had a million questions. Who could have taken Tompkins' magic away like this? Part of her wanted to cheer for them, whoever they were, but she suppressed that thought. It would do them no good, she knew Tompkins too well, he would only find another way to make them pay. Besides, he still had Christine's magic to draw on, not to mention her own and Tracy Hannah's. Unless Tracy was still busy playing groupie to Shawn Catlin, as she'd been doing a few months ago. Donna couldn't be sure about that, as she hadn't seen Tracy, or heard anything more about her, since then.

Donna sighed. She was only hoping she wasn't going to have to end up watching whoever was responsible for this suffer some terrible fate, the way people who'd tried going up against Tompkins, or even merely had the bad luck to get in his way -- like poor Kate, she remembered with another twinge of guilt -- always did.

There was no question where her own loyalties had to be, as much as she hated that. Tompkins still held all the cards where her mother was concerned, a fact he was continually reminding her of, and Donna couldn't risk that. Her mother had barely escaped a death sentence the last time; there'd be no second reprieve if Tompkins withdrew what'd cleared her before. That was yet another in the growing list of bitter facts she had to live with every day.

So really, nothing was going to change for her, Donna thought miserably. Her fear was confirmed by Tompkins' next words.

"You will be spending more time with Christine each day from now on." he said, in a tone that brooked no questions. "We will now have to pick up the pace on your lessons in magic; for not only have those fools taken away my own magic, but they have also managed to capture Tracy Hannah. Which means you shall have to take her place much sooner than I had originally expected."

Christine nodded. "I'll bring her along." she said with certainty. "Not that there's much of a comparison, Nathan." she smiled at him. "We both knew from the beginning that Donna's potential is far more than Tracy Hannah's ever was or ever will be. We haven't lost much by losing Tracy, that's for certain. Donna also doesn't have Tracy's...shall we say, handicap, and that means we still have the advantage."

Donna didn't like this at all. More magic lessons with Christine?? She couldn't keep from shuddering. She'd had more than enough sessions with her already to know what would likely be involved. More painful so called experiments, to begin with. As for Tracy, she didn't know what she should feel there. She'd only met the woman once, months ago, She knew Tracy had magic, too, and she remembered what Tracy had said about having to play groupie to Shawn Catlin. Was he one of the people who'd taken Tompkins' magic away? Or had something happened to him, too? She hoped not -- he was one of her favorite singers.

As for Tracy herself, she couldn't say she knew her well enough to be upset about these so called 'enemies' having captured her. Was she as cruel and callous as Tompkins and Christine both were, or had she been trapped into it like Donna herself was? What had Christine meant about a 'handicap'? She simply didn't know Tracy Hannah well enough to classify her role in all of this. Especially since she didn't know just what Tracy's 'work' for Tompkins had been--he'd never actually told her any details. He never explained anything unless it was something he wanted her to do for him.

"Tracy herself was of small importance," Tompkins replied. "We have, however, now lost the element of surprise." He smiled, coldly. "This, too, can be overcome. They will yet learn to regret crossing me."

Donna wondered once again who these people were who'd had the courage to stand up to Tompkins, and exactly how it was that they'd managed to take away his magic? She hadn't realized such a thing was possible; neither Tompkins nor Christine had ever mentioned it when they'd talked to her about magic.

She found herself wishing she knew how to find these people. If they could take Tompkins' magic, maybe they'd take hers, too, and then Tompkins wouldn't want her any more. She sighed, knowing the odds were slim to none that she could possibly ever be that lucky. That thought brought with it a renewed wave of despair.

Whatever Tompkins had in mind to get his revenge on those people in Tampa, Donna could only hope--though it was a faint and dim one--that she wouldn't end up being part of it. Though hope was something she didn't have much of, not any more; it'd been slowly drained away by the events of the past months.

* * * * * * * * * *

The lessons with Christine continued, and intensified. Christine forced Donna to do more and more, and didn't seem to care how tired Donna got or how much it was taking out of her. She would allow Donna a break only when she chose to, which usually was only when Christine herself was tired or needed to do something else.

One small favor of all this, though, was Christine didn't demand any more experiments involving sex. Not that that made much difference, really, since Tompkins was continuing his visits to her room at night, two or three times a week. That hadn't changed; and Donna supposed she should count herself lucky she hadn't wound up pregnant, at least not yet. However, she knew quite well that it would only be a matter of time-neither Tompkins nor Christine had offered her any way to prevent it, and she suspected they simply didn't care if she did have a baby, a child would simply be someone else for them to use as they saw fit.. She'd thought maybe she'd like to have a child of her own someday, but not now, and definitely not here. This house was definitely no fit place for that.

She found herself wishing those people had castrated Tompkins instead of merely taking his magic away. Then she shook her head, hating herself for thinking that way. Was Tompkins and Christine's way of thinking starting to rub off on her? She hoped not -- but to deliberately want to hurt another human being?? That was his style, and Christine's, not hers. It would never be her way, no matter how many times they told her she needed to be 'stronger' as they put it. Strength and deliberate cruelty were two entirely different things.

* * * * * * * * * *

The next day...

Once Donna had arrived, Christine wasted no time getting down to business. "There's another project I've been working on, and it's now at a stage where your assistance is required."

Donna shivered. She'd heard statements like that from Christine far too many times, and they never meant anything good.

Christine went over to one of the lab tables and picked up another crystal sphere, not the same one Donna'd had to test with before, but similar in shape from what she could see. Keeping that in one hand, she picked up another object, a band of metal that was in a semi-circular shape--that because the two ends did not actually meet, there was a space between them.

She slipped this around Donna's neck much like a collar. Which, Donna realized, was exactly what it was meant to be. Especially after Christine pulled the ends together. While that was at her back, so Donna couldn't actually see, she'd felt the flare of magic.

Donna reached up and tugged at the collar, twisting it around so she could see. Where the ends had been, she couldn't tell any more, there was no join or seam. Christine's magic had melded them together.

"Don't waste your time trying to remove it," Christine said. "It won't come off unless I undo it."

Donna could only wait, trembling, to find out exactly what this thing was supposed to do. She was desperately hoping it wouldn't hurt too much. Though with Christine's experiments, she knew too well that the chances of that were slim at best; her tests seemed to involve pain more often than not.

She watched as Christine picked up the sphere and stared into it. After a few minutes, it began to glow, slightly. "Let me see," Donna heard Christine murmur to herself. "what setting should I test first?" An icy chuckle followed, then "Orange."

As Christine said that word, the glow shifted slowly from the initial dull yellow, through a steadily brightening yellow, and then into a pale orange, which grew progressively more intense in color.

Donna felt a peculiar sensation through her entire body. At first it was only a slight tingling. But then it intensified. As the globe in Christine's hands flared red-orange, she felt a wave of pain, sharp and sudden, much like an electrical shock. She couldn't keep from crying out. That only brought a satisfied smile to Christine's face.

"That works, I see," Christine said with another cold chuckle. Sneering at Donna's tears, she continued. "Oh, do stop sniveling, Donna, unless you'd like me to really get angry. You're not some whiny infant; act your age." She put down the sphere and made some more notes on her clipboard. That, too, was part of the routine around here. All very methodical, all very scientific, at least in method. Unfortunately for Donna, morals and ethics weren't part of Christine's emotional or intellectual makeup.

Christine continued to test the sphere and collar. Donna learned that the sphere could be set to different colors, each of which had a different effect. Some of these weren't as bad as the pain of the orange setting; but others were so very much worse. The part she disliked as much as the pain, if not more so, was the blue setting. This literally made her a puppet in Christine's hands, and Donna could only shiver to think what she'd do to anyone else with this thing.

Only when Christine had finally satisfied herself that the device would do exactly what she'd designed it to do, did she undo the collar and release Donna.

Donna shuddered as Christine removed the collar and put it away, in a box in which Donna could see several identical collars. She kept the sphere out, and Donna wondered why. Who, exactly, were the collars intended for? she found herself wondering. She was sure that it wasn't going to be her in the end; Christine had only used her to test the collars. Christine's next words, though, only made her all the more repulsed by this device and what she knew its purpose--to torture and enslave someone -- was to be.

"There is one more thing." Christine said. "Ordinarily I wouldn't even consider this, as young as you are, and as undeveloped as your magic still is. Even with all the progress you've made, you still have a long way to go before you can truly call yourself a mage." She paused, shook her head, then continued. "Thanks to those idiots in Tampa, we no longer have the luxury of waiting for you to grow up."

She rolled her eyes, then went on. "As this," indicating the sphere, "is set now, I'm the only one who can control it. I'd originally intended to adjust it so that Nathan would also be able to control it, but without his magic, that's no longer an option, at least for now, until I can work out just how to undo the damage those idiots did." She took a deep breath. "Donna, I'm going to have to attune you to the sphere, so that you'll also be able to control it and the collars. However, it's imperative that you understand one thing. You're only to do this if for some reason I'm not available, and Nathan specifically tells you to. Is that clear?" she demanded.

Donna could only nod. Everything in her rebelled against the idea of this device of Christine's, though. To deliberately and willfully hurt someone simply went against everything in her, no matter how many lectures she got from Tompkins and Christine both on how she, as a magical person, was so far above everyone else, and also about how she should have more sense than to care about the 'insignificant feelings' of 'common rabble'.

Those were Tompkins' words, not hers. She just couldn't be that callous, didn't want to be. Let them call her a child, immature, and so on, but that was who she was. If caring about people meant she was being all those things, then she'd be all those things. She couldn't accept their insistence that growing up meant not caring about other's feelings.

She found herself praying as hard as she could that the day wouldn't ever come when Tompkins would order her to use this on someone else. Now that she knew how it felt for the person in the collar, she was even more certain she didn't want to be the one doing it to anyone else. She'd share their pain, and that would be unbearable.

"Christine, please. It hurt," she said, trying not to start crying, that'd only anger Christine more. "I--I couldn't do that to anybody. I just couldn't."

"Will you grow up already!" Christine snapped. "You'll do as you're told, or I'll be having a conversation with Nathan about how you're being uncooperative again. You know what he'll do then. Or is that what you want? Do you enjoy being punished so much??"

Donna shook her head, wiping away tears. "No," she whispered. "Not again. Please."

"I didn't think so." Christine chuckled coldly yet again. "Very well, then. It isn't likely that you'll ever need to actually use this, anyway. I have no intention of disappearing." she grinned malevolently. "Nathan and I simply want to be prepared for anything that might happen, however remote the possibilities may be."

Donna sighed, once again giving in to the inevitable. Once again she was going to have to face the possibility of hurting someone and having to act like she didn't care, simply because Tompkins and Christine didn't. Would this nightmare that her life had become never end? She didn't think so anymore. She didn't even dare to hope that the day would ever come she didn't have to live with Tompkins and Christine any more; she was convinced that Tompkins would find some way to keep her with him, even after her mother was released from prison. That was, of course, assuming she had any sanity left by then; that was still a couple of years away.

She couldn't completely stop the tears that still ran down her face, though, and that set Christine off again. "Now stop crying and pay attention!" Christine snapped. "Put your hands on the globe, and concentrate!" Christine then placed her hands on the sphere as well, on the side opposite Donna. "What you need to do is link with me as well as with the power inside the sphere, so that it'll come to recognize you, like it already does me."

Donna had to repress yet another shudder, so Christine wouldn't notice, but she did as she'd been told. Linking with Christine was unpleasant at best, almost unbearable at worst. Touching a mind as dark, twisted, and downright perverted as hers made Donna want to recoil in disgust, to have to fight the urge to be physically ill. On top of that, she couldn't keep Christine from picking up on that reaction, which only made Christine angrier, and that in turn made it even harder on Donna herself.

She tried to endure as long as she could, though. That way, it'd be done and over with all the sooner. Because she knew only too well that, if she didn't succeed in establishing her control over the sphere on this first attempt, Christine would force her to keep trying until she did.

She felt the sphere's magic responding to her own, along with the gut-twisting darkness that was Christine's mental presence. With Christine pushing her on, the rapport was finally established, or at least so she thought. Christine indicated she could stop, at last, and she did, with a sigh of relief she couldn't entirely repress.

Christine was standing there with her usual smug, self-satisfied smirk. Once again, Donna found herself wishing that she could do something to wipe that expression away. As much as it repelled her to think about deliberately inflicting pain on someone, when it came to Christine and Tompkins, there was a part of her that wanted to lash out at them, to make them suffer as they'd made her suffer. Then immediately on the heels of those feelings came the guilt, regret, and anger at herself for thinking that way, the fear of what those thoughts could mean.

She wondered about the people in Tampa again and how they'd ever gotten the courage to stand up to Nathan Tompkins. Part of her hoped they'd do something else, that'd finally manage to stop him for good. However, another part was terrified they'd try again, lose. and end up paying some terrible price for it, just as so many others had whom Donna still had nightmares about, up to and including poor Kate Parker. Donna forced those memories away; it simply wouldn't do for Christine to realize she wasn't paying attention now.

Christine passed her hand over the sphere, and it faded to a dull gray. "All right. I've deactivated it." she said. "Now, I think it worked, but I'd prefer to be certain. So it's test time. I want to see if you can activate it without my help."

Donna hesitated. She was tired; using magic at this intensity wore her out. Besides that, being forced to touch that thing again, knowing what it was for, even without Christine in the link, or any victim here to suffer for it, still bothered her.

"Do it!" Christine ordered, manifesting her energy whip again and coiling it around her wrist as though meaning to strike Donna with it in the next moment.

Seeing that, Donna forced herself to continue her efforts.. The last thing she wanted, or needed, was to give Christine another excuse to punish her. Not that Christine ever really needed any excuse for that; she enjoyed tormenting Donna too much. Why deliberately ask for trouble, though? Donna asked herself miserably.

After a few moments, as Donna concentrated, the sphere did flare back to life. Christine clapped, once, twice, three times, but in a mocking way. "I knew you could do it," she said, but her tone made what would have been a compliment from anyone else into a derisive sneer.

Donna was quite familiar with what that tone implied. Of course she wouldn't have failed. Neither Christine nor Tompkins had any tolerance of, or patience for, failure; and so she, Donna, was not allowed that 'luxury'.

Christine made Donna do the same thing three more times, before she was satisfied. Finally she was, and Donna was dismissed, allowed to return to her room.

While Donna was glad the session with Christine was over, she wished this entire miserable day was over with. All she felt like doing at this point was collapsing into bed right now. Expending magical energy was just as tiring in its own way as any other more 'normal' intense physical activity. However, it was now far too close to dinner time for her to have time for even a short nap. She couldn't just skip the meal either, knowing that Tompkins and Christine both would expect her to be there. They always did.

* * * * * * * * * *

The 'lessons' - or more accurately, torture sessions -- with Christine continued; at the same time, Donna was also forced to go on with her participation in Tompkins' various plots and schemes.

Since Tompkins no longer had his own magic, Christine had to be more involved since she was now the only one capable of transporting to any places they needed to go, and that meant Donna was forced to see even more of her during the day.

Though Christine had also announced she'd developed another magical device to handle the transportation for them, to be used only if some emergency had arisen, and she wasn't available.

The few hints Tompkins and Christine had dropped in conversations -- not directly to her, but some things she'd overheard them discussing with each other -- seemed to indicate that those people in Tampa were still hard at work trying to locate Tompkins as well as Christine and stop them. Why, Donna didn't know. Tompkins would never explain to her exactly why they had a vendetta against him; though, having known Tompkins all these months, it was pretty obvious to Donna that he must've done something terrible to one or more of them somewhere along the line.

Donna had mixed feelings about this situation, the little she'd been able to piece together of it so far, anyway. As much as she hated Tompkins and Christine, what they'd done, and were still doing to her, she couldn't get around the basic fact that she owed Tompkins for saving her mother's life. As much as one part of her wanted Tompkins taken down, there was another part that dreaded what might become of her and her mother if Tompkins and Christine were no longer around. Better the devils you know than the ones you don't, Donna thought miserably.

She was finding it harder and harder to shut out the thoughts of suicide that insisted on coming into her thoughts more and more often of late. She didn't want to die. This life she was leading, though -- she might be alive physically, but she felt dead inside, or close to that. She felt emptied out, used up, soiled, unclean in so many ways. She'd almost forgotten what clean felt like. Oh, not in the physical sense, but in ways no soap and water could reach.

* * * * * * * * * *

A week later...

Donna had been left alone most of that day, fortunately. Christine had told her she wouldn't be needing her that day, that there was some important 'other business' she had to take care of. Donna had the definite impression it was something to do with Tompkins' enemies, the ones from Tampa, but didn't yet know any specific details. She also knew better than to ask any questions. Whatever Christine or Tompkins wanted her to know, they'd tell her, and she was only too certain it wouldn't be anything she wanted to know, anyway.

So what happened that afternoon had come as a complete surprise to her.

She'd been reading a new book--reading was one of the very few enjoyable things she still had left--when the door had suddenly been flung open. She'd looked up to see Tompkins standing there.

"Donna!" He had stormed in, clearly in a rage about something. She didn't need to be an empath to tell that, the look on his face, the sound of his voice, were clues enough. These were warning signs, really; it was never safe to be around Tompkins when he was this angry. That was something she'd seen demonstrated firsthand too many times.

She jumped to her feet, terrified. What could she have done now? she wondered, trying to remember if there'd been anything said at breakfast this morning, any demands from them that she might have forgotten. She couldn't think of anything, but with Tompkins that didn't necessarily mean there hadn't been some slight, or what he chose to see as a slight.

She also wondered what he was doing there at this time of the day. Normally he'd only come to her room when he wanted to 'educate' her about sex. That, however, was always late at night; it was only midafternoon now. If he'd wanted her for anything else, he'd've called her to come to his office. His being here now wasn't at all by the usual routine, and that didn't reassure her in the least.

As hard as it was for her to endure the normal routine around here, at least that was something she'd learned to deal with. Anything that broke that pattern only upset Tompkins and Christine and led to even more pain and suffering, and that she didn't need. Wasn't she already going through enough, she asked herself. How much pain could one person be expected to take?

Only then did Donna realize that the block on her empathy was gone. How could that possibly have happened, she wondered. Tompkins didn't have his magic any more, that was true, but Christine had been keeping her shielded these last few weeks.

What she was getting from Tompkins right now was anger, fury. It was coming in waves, and she fought not to let those dark emotions overwhelm her.

"What's happened?" she managed to stammer out, terrified of what the answer would be. She knew she was taking a chance asking a question, but with his intense anger and rage, she couldn't get a clear idea of what he wanted without knowing exactly what'd set him off this time. Never mind the too-familiar sick certainty that she'd regret asking, that it wouldn't be anything she wanted to know. It never was anyway, yet both he and Christine had always made sure she was told whatever they thought it necessary to tell her, regardless of how she felt about it. There was, therefore, no reason to expect Tompkins would behave any differently this time.

"Christine." Tompkins said through clenched teeth. "Those simpletons have somehow, by some damnable luck, managed to snatch her away, to lock her up where I cannot now reach!"

Donna's mouth dropped open. That was the last thing she'd have expected to have happen. Christine, the Queen Bee, the all powerful she-demon who, along with Tompkins, practically ran her life, now cooped up in a prison cell somewhere? She remembered Christine's words of a few weeks ago \ldblquote I have no intention of disappearing.\rdblquote Well, what Christine had thought so unthinkable then, had apparently now happened. The world she knew was turning upside down and no mistake. She just couldn't be sure what this latest turn of events would mean for her.

One part of her wanted to dance, to sing for joy. She hated Christine that much. She knew, though, that Tompkins would punish her in a major way if she did so in his presence. That was what terrified her most of all; she'd been on the receiving end of far too many punishments to feel otherwise.

She knew only too well just how close Tompkins and Christine were to each other; she'd seen for herself how Christine had reacted when Tompkins had been missing. So wondering what Tompkins might be likely to do now, sent even deeper shivers of fear through her. If his mood now was anything like Christine's had been then -- and she was getting the distinct impression it was -- she'd have to tread even more carefully than usual.

"Can I get to her?" she murmured. She hated to have to suggest that. The last thing she wanted was to have Christine back, but she had to keep him from taking that rage and anger out on her. This was the only thing she could think of. "There's that transport device Christine made, so I could go wherever they've put her."

"No. They have blocked her off magically." Tompkins replied. "I can tell that much with the instruments in Christine's lab, even without any magic of my own. I am not sure that even you would be strong enough, without Christine able to help, to breach the barrier that now confines her."

Donna nodded, relieved that Tompkins was unable to 'read' her thoughts now. If he'd realized that she didn't really want Christine back, he'd have definitely punished her again.

"What is more, Donna, if you were able to break through to Christine, my enemies-who would be yours also-would learn about you, and I will not risk that." he continued. "They would see you only as my ally, and therefore an enemy, and imprison you. You do not want that." he chuckled coldly. "We will get Christine back, make no mistake. Then those fools will pay and pay dearly for that, and for each and every one of their other misguided actions." He reached out and touched her cheek. "I shall require your assistance, now more than ever. I know that you will provide it, won't you, my dear?"

She tried not to let herself flinch at his touch. "Yes, Mr. Tompkins." she murmured, "I mean--Nathan." knowing he preferred her to use his first name when they were alone. As much as she hated having to act this way, it was preferable to having him taking his anger out on her -- or threatening her mother again. That above all, she couldn't risk, no matter what the cost to herself.

He smiled in that way that always sent chills up her spine. "I am so very glad you remembered," he said. "I think that now, my dear, I must ask that you show me just how cooperative you are going to be." He reached over and caressed her cheek. \ldblquote Come, my dear, and let us not waste our time in foolish arguments.\rdblquote

Donna closed her eyes. No, not this again, she found herself thinking. She knew only too well exactly what he wanted now. True, it wasn't the first time he'd demanded this, but each time hurt just as much as the first had.

"Come, Donna. I need you now, and you need me. Remember that, always remember that: you need me."

Something in her sagged and she surrendered to the inevitable, beginning to remove her clothing. Though she took as long to do so as she could manage, hoping to delay the moment as long as she could. Part of her still wanted to resist, but she'd learned by now it was so much easier, didn't hurt as much, if she simply gave in.

What he'd said about her needing him -- damn it, he was right. She had nowhere else to go, with her mother still in prison and therefore out of reach. The carefully sanitized letters that she was still allowed to send just weren't the same as actually seeing her mother would've been, but Tompkins so far hadn't seen fit to allow her any actual visits, saying that the prison was no fit place for her. Well, maybe it wasn't, but damn it she so wanted her mother...! Once again she forced herself not to think about that, it simply hurt too much.

She didn't try to resist as he eased her back onto the bed and began to have his way with her. She'd learned long ago that showing any sort of resistance only angered him and made things much worse, much more painful, than they already were. Instead she closed her eyes and tried as hard as she could to shut out what was happening to her physically. In her mind, she clung to as much as she could remember of the place in the forest, her favorite peaceful, relaxing spot. She couldn't let herself think about anything else; it was the only way she'd get through this.

Eventually, it was over and he withdrew. "I shall expect you in my office after breakfast tomorrow." he said. "There is much to do now."

She lay there, the memories having slipped away, struggling to fight back tears. Until she was sure he was gone, she didn't dare let herself cry, or he'd taunt her again, and she couldn't take any more right now. "I'll be there." was all she let herself say, trying her best to keep her voice from shaking. She'd had to say something by way of acknowledgment, or else he'd accuse her of being rude and get angry again.

She heard the door closing behind him. That brought a welcome release, and she gave in, letting herself cry it out.

She eventually drifted off to sleep. That, however, didn't bring any rest, for with sleep came dreams, and this time the dreams were of those mysterious, faceless people who were after Tompkins. People she didn't know, had never met, she didn't even know their names.

She found herself standing on a dismal, rocky beach, under a gray, cheerless sky. A cold wind blew, and in the distance she could hear waves crashing against the rocks. It wasn't anywhere she could ever remember having actually been.

Then she heard shouts, angry cries.

She looked up to see what she thought were people, but all in black from head to toe, without any visible faces. They looked more like walking shadows than anything else. Their shrill cries were definitely angry, and the way they ran faster when they saw her didn't reassure her in the least. They were after her! Why? She didn't know.

Some instinct kicked in and she started to run, sensing on some instinctive level that if those phantom figures caught up to her something terrible would happen. Anger, hatred, waves of it, came from them, and all directed at her.

She ran and ran as hard as she could, all the while they were gaining on her.

Then she stumbled on some rocks, tripped, fell.

The dark figures closed around her. She felt their cold, clammy hands reaching for her, touching her.

She woke up, back in her room at Tompkins', shaking, in a cold sweat. It'd only been a dream, she realized, and it wasn't hard to guess what that dream had meant. Those dark figures had to have been the people who were after Tompkins, the ones who'd taken away his magic and imprisoned Tracy and Christine. Now, they were coming for her.

He was right, she thought miserably. Those people would only see her as Tompkins' ally, and want to hurt her the way they did him. They wouldn't know, or care, what she really felt about him. She didn't dare hope for anything else--she couldn't bear to have that hope snatched away again, as it'd been that morning at the park, and then again, even more terribly, with poor Kate Parker.

If they locked her up the way they already had Tracy and Christine...she clutched the sheets tighter around her, trying to stop the shivering.

From somewhere else deep inside her, though, came the feeling that she deserved that at least for having helped Tompkins. Once again she asked herself, what else could she have done? The only other choice would be to let her mother die, and that wasn't any choice at all.

She shook her head, lay back and tried in vain to get some sleep. praying that the nightmare wouldn't come back. Her life was enough of a nightmare without having them also come into her sleep. Couldn't she have even a little peace in her dreams? Couldn't she have that much?