Chapter Nine
By Terry S. Bowers

He stepped slowly, gingerly, careful of his footing. The smell was overwhelming - worse than the stench of the grave, and all around him was the destruction of lives and possessions that was Angelique's trademark.  Even her destruction - ultimate or otherwise - had caused more destruction, more suffering. As he approached the doorway to Julia's apartment, Barnabas slowed and swallowed hard. He closed his eyes for a moment, then stepped into the apartment and just stood there, surveying the charred and blackened remains of Julia's life. Everything she owned  -all her mementos, keepsakes and belongings had been destroyed in the fire resulting from Jamison's attempt to destroy Angelique. Barnabas knew belongings could be replaced, and the memories of those things that had been lost were still a part of Julia, but he could not look on the devastation of Julia's apartment and not be filled with regret and remorse.

When the fire department and building inspector had said it was all right for the building's residents to return to their apartments long enough to salvage anything that might be salvageable, Barnabas had allowed the residents to go first, those with families who needed to save whatever they could. He'd spent the time on the phone with the insurance company, with Roger and with the housing people, arranging temporary shelter for everyone displaced by the fire so they would have adequate housing until it was determined if the structural safety of the building had been compromised. He could do that much for them.

The fire had burned hottest in Julia's apartment, and once he was through in there, the fire department would be investigating to learn what the cause of the fire had been. Barnabas expected they would put it down to faulty wiring, for how could they be expected to find or understand a potion designed by a warlock to rid himself of a witch? The apartments all around Julia's, above and below and on either side had been badly burned as well, but  hers was the one which sustained the most damage and it was into this wreckage Barnabas stepped, hoping to find. something, anything that would help him.

Everything looked so different. He was momentarily disoriented. Finally Barnabas stepped further into the apartment and made his way toward the dining room. The wall on which the mirror had hung was still standing  just barely, and on the floor below the wall, the shards of the mirror that had hung there. Barnabas felt his heart sink. He'd known, when the firemen manhandled him out of the flat, that the mirror had been destroyed, but he'd hoped for a miracle, for some divine intervention perhaps to protect his one means of reaching Julia. Barnabas shook his head and smiled ruefully. The Divine had never been on the Collins' side, but he'd hoped it had been on Julia's.

Reaching into his pocket, Barnabas removed a pair of heavy gloves, donned them and began to sort through the pile of debris that mingled with the shattered mirror. A warm breeze brushed across his face but Barnabas thought nothing of it. The windows were missing and the apartment still hot.

"She needs you, Mister Barnabas."

"Ben?"

Barnabas looked up to see Ben standing beside him, head bowed as he too searched the debris for what Barnabas was looking for. He nodded his head. "Aye, she needs you Mister Barnabas. Rosa, she don't rest."

A slight movement of Ben's ghostly foot brought a piece of mirror to the top of the pile. It was covered in soot, and still attached to the melted metal frame, but Barnabas knew it was what he'd been seeking. He worked the mirror fragment from the frame, then wiped it against his trouser leg to rid it of the soot. The beveled edge let him know it was the right piece, and as he looked down, Barnabas felt his heart leap into his throat. Julia's image was back. She was calling for help. Around her, smoke was obscuring everything it could.

"Go to her, Mister  Barnabas."

"How, Ben? How do I get to her?" Barnabas looked up, pleading with his friend for the answers, but Ben was gone, fading into the thin smoke that still emanated from the rubble. "Ben!"

There was no reply and Barnabas looked back at the fragment of mirror. His heart pounded as Julia's cries for help began to grow weaker, more distant. He knew she was in danger, at the mercy of a warlock who had no mercy. Barnabas was almost certain he knew what he had to do, but first he had to get to her.

Removing his gloves and holding the mirror fragment in his right hand, Barnabas reached toward it with his left. He closed his eyes and concentrated on Julia as his finger touched the surface of the mirror. He felt a rush, then his ears were filled with the roar of many voices raised above blaring music. Barnabas opened his eyes and gasped. He began to cough as sweet, pungent smoke touched his already smoke touched lungs.

"Julia!" He looked around, trying to locate his friend through the press of bodies and the tinge of something other than tobacco smoke that hung in the air. He wished someone would open a window. "Julia!"

Through the noise created by all the people in the apartment, Barnabas heard a very familiar voice raised in angry fury. He shivered, relieved to know the anger wasn't directed at him - this time, and he followed the sound of her voice, to the bedroom that had been Julia's. The smoke and noise was lesser here - just barely, but the sense of evil he'd felt upon first entering Julia's apartment the day before was almost overwhelming. Barnabas stepped into the bedroom and did his best to ignore Angelique and Rosa Chilblain, who were locked in immortal struggle and at each other's throats, their anger and fury fueling the overwhelming feeling of evil that pervaded the entire room.

"You sent your plaything to destroy me, after I helped you recruit him in the first place. You will pay for this treachery, Nicholas!"

He had to look, he couldn't help it, and as Barnabas watched Angelique and Rosa/Nicholas struggle, he couldn't help but think what an ugly woman Blair made. Barnabas suddenly understood what Willie had meant when he'd tried to explain what the slang term 'drag' was all about. Barnabas nodded once to himself,  a slight smile coming to his face. Blair looked like a man in drag, and bad drag at that. Then his attention was distracted by the sound of moaning on the other side of the room, over by the bed. A figure was curled on the floor, trying to avoid whatever was about to result from Angelique's and Blair's struggle. Barnabas was sure something would result from it.

"Julia!" Barnabas hurried to her side and knelt down, drawing Julia into his arms. She looked up through wide eyes and smiled, although her smile was distant and he was not at all sure Julia recognized him. She'd been inhaling the fumes from the other room for too long. Barnabas knew he had to get Julia out of there - not just the apartment and the building - but the 1920's as well. Another moan caught his attention and he realized Patrick Jamison was near Julia on the floor. They all had to get out and return to their own time.

With a single glance at the still battling witch and warlock, Barnabas wrapped an arm around Julia and grabbed Jamison by the collar. He began edging his way across the floor, toward the door. Spurred by the activity, Jamison patted Barnabas on the hand and nodded that he was able to make it on his own. Barnabas nodded his understanding but did not let go of the other doctor. They made it as far as the dining room when he heard the struggle between Angelique and Blair escalate. Spells and incantations were coming into play, and Barnabas didn't want to be anywhere near them when all Hell broke loose. Collins looked around the dining room and saw the mirror, the same one that had been in Julia's apartment, hanging in the same spot on the same wall. In the lower corner, where he had last seen Julia's image, he now saw an image of Julia's destroyed apartment. Yes, Barnabas knew what he had to do. With his left hand he linked Julia's hand and Jamison's hand with his own,  closed his eyes and reached out toward the surface, hoping whatever forces had brought him here were willing to allow all three of them to return at the same time.

Recalling the song he'd heard earlier, the song Ben, Sarah and an unknown third party had been singing, Barnabas looked at Julia, then at Jamison. Singly, none of them could escape this place, but together, the three of them could.

Patrick glanced at Julia, whose eyes were locked with Barnabas', and he knew what he alone had to do. Valerie and Rosa would not rest, despite what was happening in the bedroom. Slowly, gradually, as their hands made contact with the surface of the mirror, Patrick felt them all being drawn into the mirror and returned to the devastated apartment that had been the result of his attempt to destroy Valerie because Rosa wasn't able to do it herself. Rosa and Valerie had both used him all these years, exploited his psychic abilities for their own reasons. He now knew what he had to do.

Patrick waited until he was certain Barnabas and Julia had safely made the return trip through the mirror before he broke contact. He checked the lower corner of the mirror, relieved when he saw the image of  Julia and Collins in the burned out apartment. They would be all right, but only if he was successful in what he had to do. Patrick reached for the fireplace poker and swung it into the glass. The mirror shattered and Patrick used the heels of his shoes to further shatter any pieces large enough to act as a conduit. Then he turned and made his way back to the bedroom. Valerie and Rosa had deceived him and used his psychic abilities for their own gain. It was time they learned how he could use his own psychic abilities. Neither would know what hit them and he would just make sure the spells and incantations they were using to destroy each other were successful.

**********

Barnabas opened his eyes and blinked. He took a deep breath, coughed, and was grateful for the fact it was fresher air and not smoke that filled his lungs. Beside him Julia coughed and gasped, then she moaned.

"Barnabas?" Her voice was strained and Barnabas could feel her trembling. "We're safe now, Julia, everything will be fine." He hoped he was right, hoped Angelique and Blair had been so intent on battling it out that neither had noticed his arrival or their escape.

"Patrick?" There was no answer. Barnabas was the first to realize it. He took his eyes off Julia and looked around, seeing no sign of Jamison. "Doctor Jamison?" Still there was no answer. Barnabas remembered the fragment of mirror that had allowed him to reach back into the past and help Julia in the first place, the piece he'd slid into his pocket upon his arrival in this apartment in a past era. He carefully reached in and removed it. In the lower corner, where Julia's image had once been, he saw a fleeting image of Patrick Jamison swinging something, then the sound of shattering glass filled the room and the mirror piece in his hand fragmented further. The pieces fell to the floor, nothing more than minute granules of glass.

Barnabas looked up to tell Julia what he had just witnessed but did not have the chance. He saw Julia go extremely pale. She doubled over, lost the contents of her stomach, and passed out.

**********

Julia woke slowly. The only thing that really made any sense to her was the fresh air she smelled. It wasn't the stale, sweet smoke that had permeated Valerie's apartment, for which she was very relieved. They may not have used any drugs on her directly, but the second hand smoke had been almost as potent as if she'd taken a drag on a joint herself.

"Julia?" Barnabas' voice penetrated the fog that still clung to her mind and Julia slowly opened  her eyes. He smiled gently and grasped her hand. "How do you feel?"

She looked around, finding herself in a tastefully decorated room, lying on a very comfortable bed. She looked back at Barnabas, who smiled wryly. "Collins Enterprises' Executive Suite, for use by executives when they are in town on business." Julia nodded, then tried to sit up. She was dizzy and realized the effects of time travel had not completely left her. "Remind me to stay in my own time from now on," she replied in answer to Barnabas' earlier question. "As I was so kindly reminded by Angelique, I do not react well to time travel."

"Whereas I do, which helped her decide on who would be drawn through the mirror into the past and who would stay here."

"Yes, or so I was told. Is Patrick all right?"

Barnabas looked away for a moment, then let his gaze lock with Julia's. He didn't know how she would react to his answer, still didn't now what her involvement with Patrick Jamison might have been. "I am not certain, Julia, but I believe. he chose to remain behind and make certain Valerie Blair and Rosa Chilblain. made the papers."

Julia frowned a moment, then realized Barnabas meant the newspaper clipping they had found, reporting the two women had been found mysteriously dead in their apartment the morning following a party. She shook her head. "He wouldn't have killed them, Barnabas, he couldn't."

"Perhaps not, Julia, but he did try to destroy Angelique, at Rosa/Nicholas' direction, after you. were gone. He was not happy when he learned he had been used by the two, his psychic abilities exploited and." Barnabas spread his hands as Julia nodded her understanding. "Yes, I see what you mean."

Collins once again looked away, wanting to avoid eye contact with Julia, not wanting to be the one to tell her yet knowing it had to come from him. As Julia had told him earlier, even after four years apart, she could still read him so very well, and he knew that to be true when Julia asked, "Barnabas, what is it?"

He sighed and looked back to meet her gaze. "Your apartment, Julia. When Jamison tried to destroy Angelique the place was gutted by fire. Nothing could be saved. I'm sorry."

Julia stared at him for a long moment, trying to understand what he'd just said, trying to comprehend that everything she owned was now nothing but rubble and ash. She shook her head, trying to deny what she had seen for herself but had not comprehended when Barnabas brought her back from the 1920's. Julia closed her eyes and swallowed hard. When she again looked at Barnabas, her question startled him. "Angelique? Blair?"

Collins shook his head. "We can only hope Jamison was successful and they succeeded in destroying each other." Julia nodded. The loss of a few possessions was worth the destruction of those two mortal, immortal enemies.

"We both know it won't be that easy, Barnabas, that we won't be rid of either of them permanently, but perhaps we shall have a respite for a little while. However, I can promise you one thing."

"What's that, Julia?"

"Before I move into another apartment I'm going to have the damn place exorcised!"

Collins chuckled, relieved to see Julia had not lost her sense of humor about the whole thing. He watched as she slowly stood and walked to the window. She gazed out at the murky skyline, and it took him a few moments to realize in which direction Julia was looking. She might not have been aware of it, but she was looking northeast, toward Maine, toward Collinsport, toward Collinwood -- toward home.

Barnabas rose, crossed the floor and stood directly behind Julia. He reached up and placed tender hands on her arms. He squeezed gently. "Come spend Christmas with me, with the family, at Collinwood. Come home with me, Julia."

Slowly Julia turned to face Barnabas. She met his eyes and swallowed hard. The love of her life was asking her to come home. He bent close and place a chaste kiss on her mouth, a kiss that told her the real reason he had been in the city, a kiss that held the promise of much more if they cared to pursue it. When their eyes met again, Julia smiled and nodded. When one door closes, somewhere a window opens. If that window was back in Collinsport, Maine, she was not going to slam it shut.