Over the next several days, Donna was forced into still more of Tompkins' plotting. A lot of it was no more than revenge, against the ones who'd taken his magic and now imprisoned Christine. He'd sworn they'd all pay for that. Though he hadn't yet given her the details about just who these people were and why they were 'getting in his way' as he put it, she knew it was only a matter of time before he did tell her.

She continued to have more dreams. There were more visions of herself being chased by dark, faceless creatures. Though she still didn't know exactly who they were, she was sure they were Tompkins' enemies, coming for her just as they had for Christine and Tracy.

Part of her feared them, these mysterious people she didn't know. If they'd taken Tompkins' magic away, and imprisoned Tracy and Christine, they'd do the same to her if they ever caught her. But then wasn't she already living in a prison of sorts? So what difference would it make to her, in the end? She'd be better off without magic anyway-that'd been what'd drawn Tompkins to her in the first place.

After all the things Tompkins had made her do, she probably did deserve to be locked up, she thought miserably. In between the dreams of being hunted by Tompkins' enemies came other dreams, these of poor Kate and the cat-creature she'd become. That was Donna's fault, too, she knew.

Donna didn't want to know how, yet was despairingly certain she'd find out sooner or later. There was no way out now, if there ever had been. Tompkins had been forced to let her in on more of his scheming, now that he no longer had Christine to work with.

So now she knew more than she'd ever cared to about Tompkins' obsession with revenge. Anybody who'd ever -- in his rather twisted view -- betrayed him. Knowing Tompkins as well as she did, Donna tended to take his accounts of betrayal and disloyalty with a grain of salt. It was far more likely, she thought, that they'd simply rebelled against his cruelty and high-handedness.

She wished she dared take the chance of trying again to run away. Though if she did, where would she go? More importantly, what would happen to her mother if she did? She knew Tompkins would get her mother accused, and this time convicted, of the murder, if she made any mistakes that pushed Tompkins too far. That was something she just couldn't risk. Besides that, if she did manage to get someone else to help her, there was too much of a chance they'd end up like poor Kate Parker had, and she couldn't stand to be the cause of ruining anyone else's life. That still haunted her as it was.

This time, Donna was finally given some details. "The time has come for me to teach my enemies the folly of resisting me once and for all." he began. "You, my dear, are to assist me in this. I am certain you will, won't you?" It wasn't really a question, since she didn't have any other choice.

Donna could only nod. He had been going on this theme since he'd lost his magic, and it'd gotten worse since Christine had been gone.

"It is fortunate Christine left this transport device here," he continued. "for that is what has made this plan possible. Of course, if it were not available, I would simply have to find another way."

She knew better by now than to say anything beyond merely acknowledging what he had said, showing that she was paying attention. He only wished to talk out his plans; her opinion was neither wanted nor needed. She nodded again and let him go on. If he had wanted any actual reply from her, he would have asked for one. He'd explain as much as he wanted her to know in his own good time; that was always the way he did things.

Tompkins laid several photographs on his desk. "These are the people who have interfered with my plans far too many times," he said. "Look, so you will know them, and not be caught by surprise, should you have the ill luck to cross paths with them.\rdblquote

Donna did as she'd been told, looking over the pictures and trying to commit each face to memory. The first picture showed a pale woman with dark hair, she seemed to be around the same age as Donna's own mother. The second showed a girl with similar features to the woman's. This girl couldn't have been much older than Donna herself.

"Ariel Dawson, and her daughter, NT." Tompkins chuckled coldly. "The girl is dangerous. She can strip away magic--she is the one responsible for taking mine. Beware of her, should you have the ill luck to meet her. She will see only that you have helped me, and won't hesitate to strip your magic away for that alone.\rdblquote

"I'll remember that." Donna murmured, more to sound like she was listening to him than anything else. Though how she'd do that was probably not the way Tompkins intended her to. She knew he'd meant it as a warning; but anyone capable of taking away Tompkins' magic was someone she both wanted and didn't want to meet.

She was afraid for them, and of them, both at once. On the one hand, she was so certain they'd fail in the end, like everyone else who'd gone up against Tompkins had, and she didn't want to see them suffer for that -- or even worse, have to suffer their pain along with them. On the other hand, though, if by some unimaginable luck they did succeed in taking Tompkins down, what, then, would they do to her for having helped him? Though whatever it would be was no more than she probably deserved, she still was afraid of being punished again. Tompkins and Christine had done it to her so many times; she had no reason to expect better treatment from anyone else.

More pictures followed those two. The next showed a tall, forbidding-looking woman with Amerindian features. Donna wasn't sure she'd ever want to meet this one, even if she was working against Tompkins. "Capri Monroe." Tompkins explained. "She interfered with one of my other--arrangements, and robbed me of Tracy Hannah's services in the process."

Donna's eyes narrowed. Why was he acting now like Tracy had been so important to him? She'd heard him and Christine discussing this when it had happened, and they hadn't cared that much about losing her, only about Tompkins losing his magic. But she knew calling him on that wouldn't be a good idea. He'd be far too likely to take it as though she were accusing him of lying; that'd only provoke him into another rage. She sighed and moved on to the next photograph.

This one showed a young couple, a man and woman, thirtyish was Donna's guess, both with dark hair. "Titania Ross and Jesse Lein." Tompkins said. "Both of them owe me for the week I was forced to endure in their company. Not only that, but Miss Ross refused to cooperate when I attempted to make her see reason and allow me to go. Then Mr. Lein dared to physically assault me for speaking to her."

Donna nodded again, acknowledging what he'd said. She found herself wondering, though, if all Tompkins had really tried to do with this Miss Ross was talk to her. Knowing him as well as she did, she was afraid he had raped, or at least attempted to rape, the poor woman. As for Mr. Lein, it was more likely he'd tried to prevent something of the sort, and that was why he'd struck Tompkins.

She didn't dare voice that theory, however; she knew doing that would only enrage him further, and she didn't want to have to face that. She sighed and turned to the next picture. This one showed two women. One was quite short, with blonde hair and blue eyes, short enough that Donna wondered if she was actually a child, or perhaps even a midget. The other one was much taller, stern-looking, and had dark auburn hair.

"Ameh Chase, and Pippi Longstocking." Tompkins said. "Miss Chase dared to deceive me as to her intentions, and by doing so, created a public embarrassment. Miss Longstocking also dared attack me during the unpleasantness in Tampa. Both must pay for their presumption, and I assure you, they will."

The more Donna heard Tompkins' reasons for going after these people, the more Donna wanted to meet them. The fact that they'd continued to defy Tompkins, and were still around, was incredible. She'd seen too much of what Tompkins did to people who got in his way, and part of her was afraid these people would end up going down the same way.

She was still having nightmares about Kate Parker, who hadn't been the only one that Tompkins had victimized, only the most recent of the ones she had been directly involved with. She still felt responsible for what'd happened to her, and with Tompkins' vendetta against these people, she was terrified she'd end up the cause of suffering for one or more of them.

Donna picked up the next two pictures. The first showed a haggard looking, fortyish woman with dark hair streaked with gray, leaning on a carved walking stick. The second was of a younger man, thirtyish, with dark hair and eyes. Donna blinked -- this was someone that she recognized. "This's Shawn Catlin!" she blurted out, then caught herself. She remembered what Tracy Hannah had said at that dinner months ago.

"Yes, it is." Tompkins replied. "The woman is his mother-Shirlee Catlin." The anger in his voice rose slightly as he said the name. "She worked for me once, a long time ago. Then she left, and as it has turned out, betrayed me as well, though I did not discover the existence of that betrayal until several years ago. When Shawn began to become famous, there was something about him that aroused my suspicions. I took it upon myself to investigate, and thus learned who and what he was, and of his mother's crime against me. For that she shall pay, and that dearly." he growled.

Donna took a deep breath. She wasn't at all sure she was seeing the full picture here. As much as she feared asking him any questions, she knew she had to do whatever she could help him, regardless of how much she hated it. If she did anything else, he'd turn his anger and rage on her, and that'd be far worse. She just couldn't risk being banished to a slave market again, or something possibly even more terrible this time. "How...?" she whispered, barely daring to say the word aloud. She was still getting only anger from him, no real answers.

"Look at him!" Tompkins snapped. "Look at him, and then look at me! Do you not see it, you are not blind, girl!"

Donna stared at Tompkins for a moment, then at Shawn Catlin's picture, then back to Tompkins again. What was he getting at? What was he expecting her to see? Wait a second, she thought as pieces clicked together. Shawn's mother had once worked for Tompkins?? Two and two suddenly added up, but what that answer implied...! "Are you telling me -- what I think you're telling me?" she murmured, her voice trembling in case she'd guessed incorrectly, and was saying the wrong thing. \ldblquote Is it that -- I mean, are you--his father?"

"Yes!" Tompkins hissed, slamming a fist on the table. "That cow of a mother of his dared to keep him hidden from me all these years! That is what she owes me, and I will have restitution!!"

Donna stifled a cry as the flare of anger from him went through her like a knife. She couldn't believe it. Shawn Catlin, one of her favorite singers, was Tompkins' own son?? How could that be? A horrible suspicion came to her. Knowing Tompkins as well as she did, it was very likely he'd raped Shawn's mother too. Yes, that was it, that had to be what this was all about. It'd explain everything as far as that part of the scheme was concerned; Tompkins' interest in Shawn Catlin, his vendetta against the mother, Tracy Hannah's having needed to be at Shawn's home...all of it.

"How did you find out?" Donna murmured, still hesitant, afraid in case she was asking a question he didn't want to answer.

"That, my dear, is easy enough to explain." Tompkins replied. "You know about the town my great-great-grandfather founded in Kentucky. I still have the family home there. Shirlee Catlin -- " he almost spat the name out in his anger toward her-- "is also from there. I know her family. She had a brother whose name was also Shawn, a brother who died in Vietnam. When this second Shawn became well known, the coincidence was too much, so I chose to look into his background." He shook his head.

"The Shawn you know of, the so called singer," he rolled his eyes in disapproval at that, "was born in Los Angeles, in May 1975. The last time I had seen Shirlee was August, the year before. Nine months earlier, also in Los Angeles. She had left the house I had there, and vanished. When I discovered this second Shawn's birth date, I realized what Shirlee had done -- she had had my son, and then kept him hidden from me!\rdblquote His voice started to rise, as he continued.

"That prompted further investigation. I then learned that Shawn has magic also; meaning, he inherited the giftfrom me! Yet now he has seen fit to rob me of my own. I lay the blame for that, too, at the feet of his whore of a mother." Tompkins was becoming angry again, shifting back into rant mode. "He has power, yet chooses to waste it on drivel!" he slammed his fist on the desk.

What was he calling 'drivel'?? Donna wondered. "I don't understand." she said, figuring that was safer than another question, though a new one had just occurred to her. Hadn't he said that NT Dawson had taken his magic? So why was he now accusing Shawn of that -- maybe they'd both been involved? That was possible, if Shawn was magical too. His anger flared again in her mind, despite her efforts to shield herself.

"Do not play ignorant with me! I am talking about what he chooses to call 'music'." Tompkins retorted. "You should know, my dear; these were in your room." he reached under his desk and drew out a plastic bag, which Donna could now see were all her Shawn Catlin cd's.

Donna wanted to cry again. "Mr. Tompkins -- Nathan--please!" she wailed, trying to reach for the bag, but he yanked it out of her reach with one hand and shoved her back with the other.

"No!" he shouted. "I will not have you lowering yourself with this sort of thing! This is twaddle, it is pap for the common rabble! It is trash for those with the minds of simpletons! You should be above such things, and while you are in my charge, you will be!" With that, he turned and opened the window, flinging the bag outside into the thick snowdrifts that'd piled up outside; it was the height of winter, after all.

Donna let out a shriek as she saw it fall.

"Control yourself! Unless you want me to really punish you!" he ranted. "I may not have my magic, but there are other things I can do! Never, never forget that!!" His eyes glared daggers, he was literally shaking with rage he was trying to contain.

Donna gulped, trying to stop herself from sobbing, as he glared down at her. All her music -- gone, just like that. She tried to not let herself think about this. If she did, she wouldn't be able to stop crying, and she knew only too well that'd only lead to another outburst of rage from him. He might no longer be able to torture her magically, but he knew so very many other ways to hurt her, damn him. How much more could she take? Once again she asked herself that question, but as always no answer came; there was only more pain on top of what she'd already endured.

He paused for a moment to collect himself, then continued in a calmer tone, yet it was clear he was still angry, the rage was still there, once again pent up. "These others," Tompkins indicated the earlier pictures, "interfered with the plans I had for them. Which, in no small part, involved getting my daughter back here, where she belongs."

Donna could only nod to that. What else could she say that was safe? She knew Tompkins had a daughter, about her age or maybe a little older, who'd been living--where had it been--oh, yes, Tampa again. Everything in this tangle of people and events kept coming back to there. Though why Miranda Tompkins had been down there, and hadn't been living with her father in the first place, Donna didn't know. Tompkins hadn't seen fit to explain that, and she didn't dare ask. He was angry enough as it was, without her doing anything that'd result in provoking him further.

She didn't have to wonder for long, as it turned out. Tompkins, no longer having Christine to help him, had been forced to explain things to her, so Donna learned more than she'd ever wanted to know about what Tompkins had been up to these last few months. These were plans that had already been underway, back before she'd met him. How Tompkins had learned Shawn Catlin was his son, kept hidden from him by his mother, and how Tompkins had sought revenge on the mother by secretly taking Shawn's place, then arranging through Tracy Hannah for Miranda to be brought to Shawn's.

Tompkins had then gone on to explain how that plan had been ruined by NT Dawson, Capri Monroe, and the others. Recounting that part of it set Tompkins' anger to rising again, and it was all Donna could do to not give in to her fear and burst into tears. She knew only too well that that would only enrage him even more. Being bombarded with Tompkins' anger and rage was already difficult enough for her to endure.

All this talk about Shawn Catlin reminded her of her lost cd's now lying out there in the snow, and she struggled even harder to keep from crying. Those had been one of the few good things she had left, and now Tompkins had taken them away from her, too. She cut those thoughts off, in a last desperate attempt to avoid surrendering to tears, and tried to concentrate on the rest of what Tompkins had said.

Donna couldn't help wondering what Tompkins had done to Shawn. How had Tompkins 'taken his place', exactly? Tompkins didn't go into a lot of detail about that, but Donna guessed magic had been involved. What, she wondered, had happened to Shawn in the meantime? She couldn't remember having heard that there'd been any break in his concert touring, or any unexplained absences, none that'd made it into the press, anyway. Which, she thought a moment later, didn't necessarily prove anything; Tompkins had more than enough influence to keep something out of the news if he wanted to.

Tompkins wouldn't have cared about hurting him, Donna knew that only too well. Certainly not if getting back at Shawn's mother had been what he was most interested in, which it'd definitely sounded like it was, from what he was telling her. Once again Donna couldn't keep from shuddering at the depths of Tompkins' cruelty. His voice cut through her thoughts and jerked her back to the present.

"Now," Tompkins continued, pushing forward another set of pictures. "This next group of people have not, in or of themselves, done anything against me, at least not as of yet. However, they have made the mistake of befriending Ariel Dawson and her daughter. That fact makes each and every one of them a convenient way to get to her. She, also, owes me restitution, and I have every intention of getting it. I will do whatever is necessary in order to accomplish that.\rdblquote

Donna couldn't repress another shudder when she heard him mention 'restitution' yet again. No matter what he was planning, it always ended up coming back to revenge with him, she thought miserably. Everyone had betrayed him, everyone had done him wrong. That was a recurring theme with Tompkins, she'd learned that from bitter personal experience.

Donna sighed and forced her attention back to the pile of photographs on Tompkins' desk.

The first photograph showed a young woman, who appeared to be not that much older than Donna-late teens, was her guess. This woman had pale features and light brown hair. In her arms was a little girl with blonde curly hair, the child was only about a year old or so. The second picture showed a fiftyish black man and a slightly younger black woman, standing between them was a little girl, whom Donna guessed was about nine or ten years old. The man was dressed in a deep black suit, of the sort Donna associated with members of the clergy.

"Sarah Lindsay-Tallant," Tompkins said. "And her adopted daughter, Elwyn." He indicated the picture of the young woman with the baby girl. "That second photograph is of the Reverend Benjamin Myles, his wife Rebekah, and their daughter, Susan. Mrs. Myles and Mrs. Lindsay-Tallant are both friends of Ariel Dawson's, as I said. Therefore Mr. Reverend Myles is also potentially useful to me, as are the children."

Useful? Donna shivered at the implications of that word. Desperate to think about something else, she turned her attention back to the photograph of Sarah Lindsay-Tallant. "She doesn't look all that old." she murmured. "Sixteen or seventeen." She took a deep breath, knowing she was skating on thin ice, but she couldn't figure out why Tompkins was so interested in the woman.

She was getting the distinct feeling there was more to it than just this Sarah's being a friend of this "Ariel Dawson", but couldn't bring herself to touch the cesspit that was Tompkins' mind to find out exactly why. It was hard enough being in the same room with him, now that he couldn't block her empathic sense himself, and Christine wasn't here to do it. She knew there was something he wanted, though. There always was, if he was that interested in a person.

Tompkins smiled, in that way he had which reminded her of the proverbial cat who'd eaten the canary. It was a look that never failed to send chills through Donna every time she saw it.

"Do not be deceived by appearances." Tompkins replied. "She is actually a few years older than I am, despite her looks. Now I know you are wondering how that can possibly be an accurate statement." he chuckled again. "You know that magic is real, Donna. You live with that every day. I tell you now that there are other things that are no less real. Things that most people out there dismiss as fantasy, as things that only exist in folk tales, in books and movies. One of those things is..." he paused for a moment, then continued. "vampires."

All right, she could deal with that. If magic people like herself, and Christine could exist, and this girl NT could take magic away, so she must be magical too, then it wasn't that big a leap of logic to assume vampires could exist, too. The writers for the movies had to get their ideas from somewhere, after all.

Though what Tompkins was leading up to by raising the subject of vampires, she wasn't sure. She waited for the inevitable moment when she'd find out; he'd tell her when he was ready to, and not one moment sooner. She was more than used to his long-winded way of speaking by now.

"Mrs. Lindsay-Tallant happens to be one, Donna. That means that, among other things, she can turn others into vampires, if she so chooses. I mean to make certain that she does exactly that."

What?? He couldn't mean what she thought he did--no! Donna clapped her hands to her mouth to stifle the cry that threatened to burst out. Hadn't he already done enough to her?? she thought wildly. "No-please, no!" she whispered desperately.

Though pleading with Tompkins had never made any difference to him before, she knew that only too well. She knew what vampires had to do to survive, according to all the stories; the idea of having to drink blood repulsed her, she felt sick just thinking about it.

Tompkins' eyes narrowed. "Donna, do try to control yourself." he said icily. "I do not mean to have her make you into a vampire. What, precisely, would be the point of that? I have something else, far more profitable, in mind. I want her to turn me."

In one way, those words relieved her. She would be spared that fate at least. But in another way, she felt a fresh wave of fear. She'd read Dracula and seen enough movies to have at least a general idea about vampires. If what was said in those stories was even half true, the implications were even more frightening. Tompkins was a lot like a vampire already, in the sense that his mere presence seemed to suck everything good and comforting out of life. He'd managed to do that to her already, after all.

Vampires were supposed to be all but immortal, at least according to the stories she'd read and the movies she'd seen.. If Tompkins were to become that-the implications were something she couldn't bear to think about. Suddenly, whatever dim and feeble hope she still had of ever being free of him sank even lower. It was all she could do to keep the anguish she felt from sending her into helpless weeping; she knew that would only irritate Tompkins into another angry outburst. The idea of Tompkins as some sort of Count Dracula was too terrible to imagine.

She knew Tompkins hated her asking questions, but this time she couldn't stop herself. "Will she do that?" she whispered, dreading what his answer would be. She had a terrible feeling she already knew. He always had some way of trying to force things to go the way he wanted, she'd seen that too many times.

"Oh, she most certainly will. I have no doubt of that. You see the child with her? It is an ordinary human child, placed in her care by her husband, as I understand it-a foundling he rescued from somewhere. I understand she has become quite attached to it, just as if it had been her own, in the ordinary way. Therefore, all I need do is threaten to take that child from her. A word in the proper quarters, to the proper authorities, will suffice. I need not even mention any such thing as vampires." Tompkins chuckled coldly. "I need only drop a few hints that the child may be in danger where she is. The Department of Children and Family Services tends to look very closely into any such implications. Tracy tried that gambit, and failed. I shall not."

Donna could only nod in acknowledgment of this. What he was saying was too awful for her to think of a response that wouldn't push him into rage. Always, always, it was revenge with him. She was getting used to that, in one way, but each time it still hurt her, knowing she was part of it. She couldn't find any pleasure in hurting others, the way Tompkins and Christine both did. It simply wasn't in her to be deliberately cruel, no matter how much they'd both tried to harden her by torturing her.

Ignoring her chagrin, or more likely not caring how she felt, Tompkins laughed again. "There is another vampire, the Princess Zoe Comnena, who could do the job just as easily, and in fact I had originally requested this...favor...from her. I have since decided that Mrs. Lindsay-Tallant is a far better choice. This is because she has made the mistake of befriending Ariel and her daughter, where the Princess has not. What I have planned will, I trust, teach Mrs. Lindsay-Tallant to be more careful about whom she associates with.\rdblquote Another cold chuckle followed.

"You commented on her resemblance to a teenager. That is quite correct; she had just turned sixteen when she was turned. And that was slighty more than fifty-one years ago - it will not be fifty-two for her until October. This also means she still has mortal relatives living. Her mother, two brothers, a number of others. I know exactly where they can be found. A small town in northern Minnesota, to be specific. That, of course, means I can make things very difficult for them also, if she fails to cooperate. I shall even deal with that husband of hers if I am forced to. I do not care what ties he may have, or what so-called protectors he has allied himself with; Sarah will assist me, or there will be a price to be paid. All, of course, shall depend upon how amenable she proves to be, or fails to be, to my request."

Once again, Donna felt sick. What he was saying was that more people were to be hurt, made to suffer who knew what anguish, just to satisfy Nathan Tompkins' greed and lust for revenge? Including an innocent child? Actually, two, if you counted the minister's daughter. Was there never going to be an end to Tompkins' evil? Apparently not, Donna thought with utter despair.

Then she thought of something else. Christine. Tompkins hadn't said anything at all about her. That was odd, considering how close they were. What could that mean? Donna took a deep breath. She couldn't stop herself from asking; as much as she feared the answer, she knew she'd have been told eventually, so might as well get it over with now and be done with it. "What about...Christine?" she asked, unable to keep her voice from trembling. "If you can get her back -- "

"There is no 'if'!" Tompkins snapped. "She will be released from where those fools have placed her. That is part of the plan, Donna. It has been from the moment I learned they had trapped her. You should know better than to think otherwise. She has been of far too much value to me, for me to even consider abandoning her.\rdblquote His tone implied he thought her an utter idiot for even implying anything else.

Donna nodded. She'd expected that, but that hadn't been what she'd been wondering about. "I mean -- if you're going to be a vampire--Christine--" she clutched her hands together, terrified she was about to say something wrong and really provoke him. "Is she going to still be - I mean, what will she -- " Oh, how could she say it that wouldn't get him angrier than she knew he was already about all of this?

Tompkins stared at her for a moment, then nodded. "Ah, now I see what you are trying to ask.\rdblquote he said dryly. "Do, please, try not to be so tongue-tied, Donna. It will make conversation so very much easier to understand." He shook his head. "You are wondering if Christine will still have a place here, with me, when I am vampire. The answer to that is yes. Once I have been reborn, I will be able to give her the gift as well. She will be only too eager to accept it, of that I have no doubt." His eyes glittered in anticipation. "Do not forget, she and I have been together for a long time. It is only proper that I ensure we remain so. We have had so many years together; now, we will have eternity.\rdblquote That horrible cold smile appeared again. That was even worse than Donna'd expected. Though she probably should've guessed that that would be what he'd have in mind. The idea of Tompkins as a vampire was bad enough; if both he and Christine were to be turned, it would be -- she couldn't even think of a word for how utterly terrible that would be.

Both of them had already turned her life into a living hell; and somehow she knew, deep down inside, that if they existed as vampires, they would only be a thousand times worse than they already were. She found it hard to imagine how much more terrible things could be than they were already, but she also knew she didn't want to find out. She had a sick, sinking feeling of incredible, nearly overwhelming despair, that she would end up finding out in the end; that was a terrible pattern that seemed to keep happening far too many times since she'd come to this house.

He kept her there for a good while longer, laying out more of what he planned; and she couldn't keep from shuddering as he described more of the details of his various plans. As much as she'd already seen of how utterly devious and diabolical Tompkins was, it never ceased to amaze her how far he was willing to go to get what he wanted. There was literally nothing he would not do, no line he would not cross, if it were in his way. That applied to people, too, all too unfortunately.

* * * * * * * * * *

That night, she had yet another dream. This time, she found herself wandering through something resembling a medieval castle, straight out of "Dracula" or similar movies. The rooms and halls were of cold gray stone, dimly lit with torches. There were looming shadows everywhere; the howling of wolves could be heard in the distance. The very air itself seemed to be filled with an overwhelming feeling of inescapable dread, a sense of impending doom with no clear source. The sense of fear was so strong she couldn't keep from shivering.

She didn't know what it all meant, however, until she walked into one of the rooms and saw two coffins lying there, side by side, just like in that movie she'd seen years ago. A stab of fear swept through her like a knife in that moment. She turned quickly to flee that room, instinctively knowing she had to get away, to put as much distance between herself and this place as she could.

Before she could take as much as a single step, though, she heard a terrible creaking sound behind her, which was quickly followed by a second nearly identical noise. That made her even more terrified than she already was.

She turned, afraid of what she'd see, yet knowing she had to look. She had to know if it was just as bad, or even worse, than what her fear was leading her to imagine.

It was. For rising up out of the coffins were Nathan and Christine. Both were glaring at her with red glittering eyes, set in deathly pale faces. Both mouths opened, and she could see fangs extended. They had both become vampires! Horror filled her, she started running for the door again. Her mind reeled at what she was feeling from them-incredible hunger, a lust for her very essence she'd never felt before. Was this what a vampire's desire for blood felt like? She sensed almost instinctively that it was, and that added to her terror. Equally instinctively, she knew she was only moments away from ending up as their dinner.

As though to confirm her fears, a new sound filled the air. "Dooo...nnaaaa..." hissed the vampire-Tompkins, reaching for her. She froze where she was, unable to move for pure terror; she could only start to scream.

"Coooome to usssss..." hissed the vampire-Christine, who also held out her arms in some obscene parody of a welcoming gesture.

Their cold hands grabbed at her. Pure terror filled her, keeping her frozen in place; try as she might, she still couldn't make herself move. The vampire-Tompkins leered down at her, baring his fangs. "Miii....nnnneeee...." he hissed, and that terrible face drew closer. In another moment, he'd be on her-and the vampire-Christine was right behind him....she could only scream...

That was the moment when she woke up, shaking, in a cold sweat. She was back in her own room, and the vampire-images of Tompkins and Christine were gone. It'd only been a dream, she realized, but it would become horribly real all too soon.

She wept uncontrollably. That couldn't happen, it just couldn't. It'd be too awful, not only for herself, but also for anyone else who had the bad luck to get in Tompkins' way. If his lust for revenge was an obsession with him now, she had a terrible feeling vampirism would only amplify that. Christine would be even worse than she was already, too, Donna knew with a horrible certainty. Like so many other things that had happened in this house, the results of both of them becoming vampires didn't bear thinking about. Saying it would be 'awful' would be the understatement of the century, if not the millennium.