In reply to my reviewer who asked: I am basing most of my ERIK off of Susan Kay's version of our mentally unstable darling. I simply thank Leroux for creating him in the first place. I am not going off the musical too much – love the story and songs but I prefer the darker Erik that Kay wove for us.

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Chapter 3

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Despite her fears and the fact that she was sleeping in a strange bed in a foreign country, Christine was so exhausted that she had fallen asleep almost immediately. If she had dreamed at all she didn't remember it and when the sun peeked through the windows and landed on her face she felt the warm rays gently pulling her from her peaceful slumber. Without opening her eyes she reached out and stretched her arms, enjoying the feel of the slippery night clothes as they slid between the satin sheets. Satin sheets!? Her eyes flew open and she sat up in bed with a start. Where was she? Suddenly the past events came flooding back as she saw a man dressed in dark, fashionable gentleman's attire and a mysterious white mask standing at the foot of her bed. Erik!

"Good morning." He said with a slight bow of his head. "I assume you slept well, considering the lateness of the hour."

"What time is it?" She asked as she rubbed her eyes.

"A quarter to ten. I prepared some breakfast. If you would care to get dressed I will escort you to the dining area." He offered, his voice stiff and polite. He decided it was best to keep things on a non-emotional level with this girl. It was better for everyone involved.

"Do I have to wear that skimpy outfit? If I have a choice, I would much prefer to stay in these." She pleaded, indicating the black satin night clothes.

"I have procured some more suitable attire for you to wear today. It is hanging in the washroom; I think you will find it more modest than yesterday's outfit." Erik informed her, his hands fidgeting nervously behind his back where he was glad she could not see them. Personally he would have loved to see her wear that particular outfit again, the beaded low cut top had teased him quite mercilessly last night, giving him just the hint of fullness of her breasts but that blasted fabric had managed to keep it contained. Her slender alabaster legs and thighs had also been on display since the skirt had several slits cut into it from floor to hip. Erik scolded himself for dwelling on such things, but since he had already fixated on her all last night, why stop now?

He was embarrassed to admit just how long he had stood there at the foot of the bed watching her sleep this morning. He had hoped the novelty of it would have worn off after spending hours awake last night just observing her and listening to her breath… but it hadn't. Erik had very keen eyesight in the dark and he had enjoyed watching her chest rise and fall with each breath and counting the number of times she rolled over. Yes an infinite amount of pleasures had been his last night. And just when he had decided that she could not be more alluring he had watched her awaken this morning, reaching her arms above her head and stretching like a sleek and sensual feline rising from a warm cat nap. Christine was a treasure trove of wonders to Erik and he drank in every sight and sound of her.

"You got me clothes?" She asked, her eyes lighting up at the thought of never having to put that harlot's attire back on. "Thank you, that is very kind."

"You are my responsibility now and I shall not have you going about half naked." He told her, immediately regretting his words when it brought all sorts of improper images to his mind.

Christine blushed slightly at the implication and slid out of bed quickly in order to try and avoid his constant stare.

"In the washroom you say? I will only be a minute." She promised and practically ran to the door, closing it behind her as she leaned up against it and pressed her hands to her face. She could feel the burning sensation there and hoped he had not noticed.

She had blushed! It wasn't a flush of fear or anger, but instead a delicate blush of modesty at the idea of being partially clothed in front of him. Erik could feel the sweat once more forming on his forehead and palms and he rubbed them briskly against his legs trying to stem the moisture. He needed to do something to keep his mind off of her! He reached out to make the bed and found the sheets were still warm from the residual heat of her body. He ached to slip inside himself and feel the warmth around him, to drink in her scent and caress the pillow where her cheek had laid all night. He wondered if he held the pillow to his face would he be able to pretend it was her cheek rubbing against his – oh to feel her touch in any fashion was a delicious dream.

Erik was only too aware that if he had a few less scruples it would have been so easy to have taken her last night. She was, after all, his by Persian law. His to do with as he pleased. And oh he ached for that…but no! He was no animal, driven by his lustful urges, hell-bent on robbing her of her free will and virginity.

"Damn!" He heard himself say out loud as a thought suddenly stuck him. That wicked Shaheen had made a specific point of telling him that Christine was a virgin and it now occurred to him that taking her innocence was exactly what he had been expected to do last night. Leaving Erik all too sure that if they were going to perpetuate this ruse, the Shah's wife would be expecting proof of the deed. Damn that woman to hell for her demented and twisted mind. He needed to do something, and he better do it fast before Christine came back and caught him.

Pulling back the covers he had just folded closed he rolled up his sleeve and quickly grabbed the knife that was still stuck in the bed table. He made a shallow slice across his forearm, clenching his fist and letting the blood run down his arm until it began to drop onto the white satin sheets. This would satisfy that rapacious harpy, he thought to himself.

"What are you doing?!"

Erik turned suddenly to see Christine standing in the doorway of the washroom, changed and looking like a vision out of some Arabian fairytale. He would have liked nothing more than to stand there and just gaze upon her in the outfit he had chosen but her shock at his actions now took precedent.

"You're bleeding! Did you cut yourself?" She cried as she ran to his side, grabbing the white handkerchief from his breast pocket and applying pressure to his wound like a dutiful little nurse. "How did this happen?" She looked at the blade in his other hand and the realization suddenly hit her that it had been done intentionally. "Why…?" She questioned.

Now what was he supposed to say? This was beyond awkward. He decided not to say anything and hoped that she was not as innocent as she seemed and would figure out what he had hoped to accomplish by all this. He watched as her eyes went from his arm to the bed and then back to his face with such a look of shock he almost wanted to laugh…almost.

"Oh god!" She breathed in, covering her mouth with her free hand. "You were making it look like…like we…why?"

"When a gift of a concubine is given, it is a sign of disrespect if it is not duly …appreciated. And if I know the Shah's wife, and I think I do, she has already ordered the servants to bring her the needed proof when the cleaning is done today. If she ever suspects that we did not consummate the deal…well you would no longer be considered my property or under my protection and the Shah will see it as his right to reclaim you for himself." Erik tried to explain as clearly as possible without adding to the fear in her eyes.

"What kind of barbaric land is this?" Christine asked, her face twisting in shame and rage.

"It's their customs, handed down from generations to generation. What we see as immoral, they see as their way of life. And since we are in their country, we need to play by their rules…with a few minor alterations." He gave her a quick wink, hoping his expression was properly conveyed through the mask. It must have been because it won him a smile from her delicate pink lips.

"Once again I am in your debt. Thank you, Erik." As she smiled that oh so telling blush rose to her cheeks once more. "Now if you are finished here, we need to get you bandaged up." She headed to the table by the wall to retrieve the medical kit he had used on her the night before.

Erik held the handkerchief securely to the cut by bending his elbow and holding it against him while he used his free hand to close the bed covers and hoped it smeared it enough to look authentic. He had only read about such things in books and had no idea firsthand how the supposed deed should appear.

"Come over here so I can wrap that for you." She called as she sat on the couch and opened the box.

Erik walked over to where she sat and stood in front of her. He took a few moments to at last admire her in the outfit he had picked out. It was three separate pieces, the first being a shimmering gold camisole top that was covered by a cream colored jacket that clasped in front and flowed down past her hips. It had long sleeves that came to a flare at the wrists with beautiful gold embroidery at the cuffs as well as down the front that split open at her waist. The bottom was a flowing pair of pants that matched the top but was made of more sheer fabric so that they billowed around her legs. All in all it was very stunning and he silently complimented himself on his choice.

"Sit down; I can't reach you up there." Christine instructed, patting the sofa next to her, still distracted by the box on her lap.

Very slowly Erik sat down; careful not to sit too close and actually touch her with his leg or hip. Just to be this near was intoxicating and when she scooted closer and put her hands on his arm he physically jumped.

"I am sorry, did I hurt you?" She asked pulling back as she looked into his eyes for reassurance.

"No, you just startled me is all." He lied.

"All right, but please tell me if I hurt you."

Oh she could hurt him all right; he knew that as sure as he knew the sun would rise tomorrow. But she could only hurt him if he let her, he decided. To remain safe he had to keep his heart hidden and protected from the cruelty this world had so often shown him. The question was…did he want to be safe? What had being safe got him? Over thirty years of loneliness and it was beginning to wear on him! It was starting to sap his strength and the only thing he could imagine that would restore him was Christine. Oh, Christine!

"There, all done."

Erik looked down and saw that she had indeed finished her work on his arm while he had been lost in thought.

"And you were such a brave patient I wish I had a piece of candy to give you." She smiled.

Erik tipped his head quizzically at her, not understanding her reference. Why would she want to give him candy? She must have recognized his puzzlement and tried to explain.

"You know… a piece of candy to reward you for being a brave boy. Like when you were little? Didn't your mother ever give you a sweet for not crying when she bandaged your skinned knee or cut finger?"

"No…she didn't." He said coldly as he quickly stood up. He took the box from her lap, taking his time putting it away and rolling down his sleeve in order to give him some time to regain his composure.

Christine knew she had struck a nerve…a very raw and tender one and she chided herself for her foolish words. It was obvious that Erik harbored a painful past and she wondered if it had anything to do with the mask he wore. She was just getting up the courage to ask about it when he turned back to her and gestured to the doors leading to the living area.

"Would you care to have your breakfast now?" He offered, all signs of his discomfort now erased. Hiding his pain was something he had become very proficient at. And why not, after all he had spent his whole life hiding.

"That would be lovely." She told him as she walked through the doors he had just opened for her. Yes, Erik not only dressed like a gentleman, but he acted like one as well…at least when he was not screaming obscenities and breaking furniture.

When Christine entered the living area she took a moment to survey her surroundings. Last night she had not had the time or the interest in the décor of the room but now as she glanced from left to right she saw it was a very nice living space. To her right there were two overstuffed chairs beside a small table. Next to that was a beautiful grand piano, the black painted wood polished to a mirror like shine indicating that it was obviously a very treasured instrument. In the middle of the room was another seating area with a chaise lounge, a large chair and coffee table on a beautifully colored rug. To her left there was a table against the wall that seated six comfortably and to the right of that was a large desk that she had noticed the night before. Behind the desk was the open balcony with floor length curtains swaying gently in the cool morning breeze.

"Please have a seat. I will go get your breakfast." He told her, pulling out her chair for her at the table.

"Thank you." She said, sitting down as she watched him head through a small door on her right, which she guessed led to the kitchen. Moments later he was back with a tray of bread, fresh fruit and cheese accompanied by two cups of steaming tea.

"I hope the selection is satisfactory, I don't eat here much so I had very little on hand to work with. The tea is Russian with lemon, if you don't care for the flavor I will see if I can find some English tea tomorrow that might be less exotic." He offered.

"No, I like it very much. I developed a taste for it while we traveled through Russia performing." She assured him, reaching out and taking a satisfying sip.

"Performing? Are you a musician?" Erik asked siting in the chair beside her and carefully taking an awkward sip from his own cup.

"Me a musician? Heavens no, I can hardly pluck out a single note on the piano that wouldn't curdle milk." She laughed, taking a piece of the fruit off the tray. "My father however was an amazing violinist and I traveled with him all over when he performed at fairs and concerts. His career took us from our home in Sweden to Norway, Finland, into Russia, through Poland and even as far as Germany once but I don't remember much about that, I was still very young when we went there."

"How old were you?" He asked, once more attempting to sip the tea with dignity, but after almost spilling it on his shirt he gave up and pushed it away as if he was finished.

"I believe I was around six. I remember some of it, but mostly images and feelings, not really the sights or the cities." She closed her eyes as if trying to recapture some of the sensations she had mentioned.

"That is quite young to be adopting a traveling lifestyle. Wouldn't it have been more logical to stay home with your mother, or did she travel with you?" He was very curious about this amazing girl and wanted to hear all about her fascinating childhood.

"No, my mother died when I was only five, so after that I had no choice but to travel with my father." Christine informed him.

"I am sorry for your loss." He offered with a sympathetic nod of his head.

"I appreciate that. She was a very kind and loving mother and I still miss her. But traveling with my father was very exciting as well. I got to meet all sorts of interesting people and even though we spent quite a few nights sleeping in barns or out under the stars I never regretted it for a moment."

"Your father…certainly he will be worried sick over your sudden disappearance. If you like I will do what I can to get word to him that you are safe." It had not occurred to Erik that Christine might have a family who was frantically searching for her.

"Thank you, but no. My father died six months ago while we were traveling. He had consumption." She set her tea aside and looked down at her lap in order to avoid Erik's look of sympathy for fear she would start to cry.

"Again, I am deeply sorry for your loss." Erik did not know what else to do. If he were anyone but himself he might have been tempted to reach out and take her hand or pat her shoulder to comfort her.

"Thank you. I still find it hard to talk about him, but I know in time I will begin to remember only the good times, not those last months as he slipped away."

Suddenly something clicked in Erik's mind and he sat up a little straighter.

"Daae…your father wasn't Charles Gustav Daae, was he?"

"Yes, that was his name? How did you know him?" Christine asked, her eyes wide with excitement.

"I too traveled extensively in years past and I recall one time about ten years ago hearing him perform in Finland." Erik said. "He played so beautifully that I stayed for both shows! Would you have been there?"

"Yes, I never left his side. I usually sat on a small stool at the side of the stage, out of the way but close enough for him to keep an eye on me and so that I could hear every note." She assured him.

Erik did his best to recapture every moment of the concert, from the songs her father had played to the faces he could recall in the crowd. He was usually a very observant person, always attentive to details and potential danger. If he closed his eyes he could pick out certain things from that day…a lady with a ridiculous feathered hat that kept getting in his way…a large man who constantly looked at his watch every five minutes as if he had an appointment to keep…and a small girl sitting to the side with springy chestnut hair and an adoring smile on her face as she watched the gentleman on stage. Christine!

"I remember you!" Erik said, opening his eyes and seeing her shocked expression. "You were wearing a green dress with a white apron and a red scarf."

"Yes, I had a red scarf that belonged to my mother and I wore it everywhere!" She covered her heart with her hand and smiled at Erik. "I can't believe you remembered that. I wish I could remember you, but I am afraid when my father played I only paid attention to him and his music."

"How old were you then?" He asked, trying to ascertain her age now.

"I would have been around eight when we were traveling through Finland." She answered after a moment of thought.

That would make Christine around eighteen. Good, Erik thought, gratified to confirm that she was not still a child. They sat there for a moment in comfortable silence until another thought occurred to him.

"So after your father died, what became of you? How did you end up here?"

"As wonderful a violinist as my father was, it did not make him rich by any means and I was left with very little after paying for funeral arrangements. I had no real skills to speak of so I joined up with a traveling troubadour group that performed plays and entertained at some of the same fairs my father had. I had only been with them for about three months when I was taken in the middle of the night from my tent. I remember a foul smelling rag over my face and then the next thing I knew I was tied up in a wagon heading south to Persia. I can only imagine what they must think happened to me."

"Well obviously someone from your troupe knows because they were the one who betrayed you to the Persians." Erik deduced, anger causing his jaw to clench.

"What makes you say that? I believed they were my friends." She said.

"Someone wasn't. The Shah's wife told me that you were originally from Sweden and that she had it on good authority that you were still a virgin. If you didn't tell them that, they had to learn it from someone. Can you think of anyone who harbored malice towards you and could have easily been swayed by a bag of gold?" Erik asked. He studied her face as her mind spun at his suggestion. When her eyes narrowed and her fists clenched tightly he knew she had an idea. "Who was it?"

"Viktor, that dirty snake!" She spat, his name almost a curse. "He was the troupe's resident Casanova and when he made advances towards me I spurned him and slapped his face. I knew he was angry with me, but I never thought he would do something like this…" She let her voice trail off as if it were unbelievable.

"Rejection can make a man do crazy things, but selling a girl into slavery is beyond abhorrent. If I am ever fortunate to meet up with this Viktor, he will pay for his crimes with his life! I will see to that." Erik brought his fist down on the table with such force that it made Christine jump.

Was Erik serious? Did he truly mean he would actually kill Viktor for what he did? A cold shudder went through her as she contemplated his words. If he felt so free to threaten death, did this mean he had administered such punishments before? She suddenly realized that she knew very little about the man before her, this man who hid his identity behind a mask. Christine could feel the cold fingers of fear grip at her heart once more.

Erik could see that his words had been foolish and rash. He could almost hear the doors of trust slamming shut in her mind as she looked at him. He berated himself for his murderous outburst. He tried to justify it by reminding himself that it had been prompted only by his righteous indignation towards the man who had betrayed Christine, but still…he so hated that look of fear in her eyes.

"Let's not speak of Viktor or anything else unpleasant, shall we?" She suggested trying to put on a brave smile. "Would you like some bread or cheese? You have not touched a bite." Christine held out the small plate to Erik.

"No, thank you. I am not hungry right now. Maybe I will eat later." He told her, holding up his hand to decline her offer.

Christine agreed that this could be the case, she knew of many who were not accustomed to taking food until later in the day. Her father had been one of them, preferring to use his morning hours to practice and not having a bite to eat until closer to noon. But for some reason she guessed that was not the case with Erik. She had seen all too clearly how difficult it had been for him to simply drink a few sips of tea, the cup bumping into his mask and causing him much frustration before he simply gave up. She hoped he had not noticed her side glances and was oblivious to her examination of him, for she knew he would not have taken kindly to it. His harsh reaction to the few moments she had taken to stare so impolitely at him the previous night told her that doing so offended him deeply. He was obviously very self-conscious about his mask and once more she wondered about the reason he wore it.

Christine's silence was all too telling and Erik knew without a doubt what she was thinking. The mask! She was curious yet too polite to ask and while he admired her for her sense of decorum and propriety, he knew they could not continue without at least addressing the issue. Perhaps if he brought it up himself he could guide the conversation in a manner that would offer him the least amount of discomfort and preserve him a shred of dignity.

"You are wondering why I wear a mask, are you not?" He began cautiously.

"What…no I…." She began, trying her best to lie, but in the end she gave up and looked down at her hands in her lap in shame. "Yes. I confess I am curious but I would never presume to pry into your personal affairs, Monsieur."

"I appreciate your discretion, Christine. But I asked you to try and trust me and I feel that this cannot happen if I am not forthcoming with information on the fact. I wear this mask for a valid reason. To see what lies behind it would cause you great fear and distress and thus I promise, for your sake, that you will never see me without it." He informed her, his voice resolute.

"Was it some kind of accident?" She asked, assuming he was referring to a disfiguration of some sort and not that he was simply unattractive.

"No, it was done quite on purpose." He replied, bitterness laced in his dark chuckle. "I was born this way and thus am quite familiar with the specific reactions my countenance has on people. Hence the need for the mask."

"I am sure you feel your concerns are valid and I will respect your privacy, Monsieur Erik. I thank you for your candor in the matter." Christine told him, giving him what she hoped was a reassuring smile.

So now she knew. He hid a deformity behind the mask he felt that no one would ever wish to see. Christine felt a stab of compassion for this man who had been hiding his true self for apparently his entire life. She could suddenly understand some of the reasons behind his foul temper and seemingly violent remarks. When one had been treated with only cruelty, why would they wish to respond in any other way? But under all that, Christine felt that Erik longed for something different. He dressed as a gentleman, even spoke like one when not yelling or screaming and had acted towards her with only respect and honor. All this gave Christine the impression that regardless of how he viewed himself he longed to be seen otherwise. Could she see him that way as well?

Her thoughts were interrupted by a sudden and loud knock on the main door. Christine jumped at the sound but Erik only gave an impatient sigh.

"Do not be alarmed, it is only Nadir." He told her calmly, almost as if he were expecting him.

"Nadir?" Christine questioned.

"You may have seen him last night, standing off to the side. Tall gentleman with olive skin and a rather irritating disposition." He was sure she was confused by that last part, but Erik felt it was worth mentioning since his persistent friend was currently annoying him with his intrusion.

Christine did remember the man very vividly and since her situation had drastically improved upon having taken his silent advice the previous evening, she felt very anxious to meet this man and have the opportunity to thank him.

"Enter." Erik called out in Persian, loud enough to be heard but not so much to startle Christine.

The door was thrust open and the Persian man came striding into the room with an upset look on his face. He paused for a moment to give a slight bow towards Christine before launching himself into a tirade directed at Erik, also speaking in his native Persian language.

"Have you no concern at all for your own miserable life?! I swear, Erik, if it is a death wish you have you are well on your way to seeing it fulfilled." Nadir berated him.

"What are you talking about, Daroga? What heinous crime have I managed to commit between last night and breakfast?" He asked in an exasperated tone. He was quite used to Nadir's unfathomable interest in keeping him alive, but he never did understand it.

"The Shah and his wife have been in court all morning and you have yet to appear before them. And here it is…almost a quarter past eleven!" Nadir told him, looking at his pocket watch and scowling deeper.

"And for what reason is my presence requested in court? Good lord, don't tell me the Shah has even more revisions he wishes for the palace?!"

"You honestly have no idea…do you?" Nadir sounded completely worn out, as if he were irritated from trying to reason with a stubborn child. "It is custom that when presented with a gift from the Shah, the recipient is to appear first thing the next day and offer his gratitude before the entire court. By not having come immediately you are showing the highest disrespect and you know what the policy is for those who offend his Imperial Majesty."

Erik seemed unaffected by Nadir's words and gave a slight shrug of his shoulders in indifference.

"I know, I know, you couldn't care less! But it is no longer just your life that you endanger; you risk the life of the girl here as well." He thought that would get a reaction out of Erik, and he was right.

"What?!" Erik said, rising to his feet in a menacing fashion. "I fail to send a thank you card before breakfast and suddenly the Shah is breathing threats and violence? Why that pompous, self-gratifying…" His voice trailed off into another string of curses in other languages.

"Whether you agree with it or not, it is the custom and I would advise for your sake, and that of the girl, that you put on your best face - so to speak - and get to court!"

Erik gave a sound like a deadly roar and took a step towards Nadir.

"Fine!" He told him through clenched teeth. "I will accompany you to the blasted court."

"She must come too." Nadir continued, pointing towards Christine who had been sitting there listening to the conversation without understanding a word. But from the sound of things she knew what Nadir was saying was not making Erik very happy.

"Why does she have to go?"

"To receive a gift of this nature from the Shah is a great honor; you honor him back by displaying your appreciation for that gift by showing her off to the court. If you left her behind it would signal that you are displeased or ashamed of her and this would bring reproach on the Shah. Honestly Erik, you really should look into studying up on at least a few of our customs if you wish to keep your head attached to your body."

"Why bother when you seem to take such pleasure in informing me of each and every transgression I make?" Erik answered sarcastically. He gave a heavy sigh and looked down at Christine's wide and inquisitive eyes. "Give me a few minutes to explain the situation to the lady. I will join you in the hall momentarily."

"Do not be long." Nadir warned him as he took his leave, closing the door behind him.

"What was all that about?" Christine asked as soon as the man had gone.

Erik stepped forward and kneeled down in front of her where she sat.

"It seems that custom dictates that you and I appear before the Shah today so that I might show my gratitude for his gift. You apparently must accompany me as a sign of approval and acceptance. Normally I would think it just a mere formality, but if the Shah's wife is also present, as Nadir tells me she is, then I sense there may be more to this than a simple and quick display of gratitude. I told you of the Shahbanu's disturbing ways, and I would not put it past her to use this situation to… well…fuel her immoral curiosity at your expense."

"What do you mean by that?" Christine was not looking forward to seeing that woman again.

"It is my suspicion that she might press you for information. Details about what took place last night. Openly discussing intimacies of that nature is not considered taboo here, and it would not be out of character for her to question you on the matter. Would you be able to lie convincingly should it come to that?" He asked, still trying his best to sound calm.

"She would expect me to…give details?!" Christine stood up and walked a few steps away, pacing back and forth as she placed her hands on her burning cheeks. "What would I say…how would I…?"

Erik rose as well and watched her for a moment, letting her get used to the idea before he spoke.

"If you are unsure of the mechanics of the act I could give you a quick overview…" He began, not comfortable with the idea but he certainly couldn't let her go in unprepared.

"NO!" She told him, spinning around to face him with a look of shock. "I mean, I am quite aware of the 'mechanics' as you put it. Some of the ladies in the troupe I was with were more than forthcoming with their escapades on the subject of physical love. I trust that I have enough information to appear believable, thank you."

"Fine. I will tell you this however; they will not be expecting me to have been a…well…a gentle lover. And it would be better to tell them what they wish to hear instead of some rose colored story of wine and candlelight. Can you do this?"

This was insane! Not only was he asking her to lie and give details about the most intimate of acts between a man and a woman, but now he expected her to paint him as a fiend who might have taken her by force?! Her face burned with shame as she tried desperately to calm the pounding in her chest.

"Christine, this is very important. Your words to the Shah and his wife could very well dictate your future. If they think you are lying to them it could mean your death…perhaps even mine if they believe I have deceived them as well." Erik wished that Nadir was not waiting outside, that he could give her more time to assimilate this idea, but time was off the essence and he knew they had to leave. "I ask again, can you do this, Christine?"

Christine looked up at Erik and heard the compassion in his voice over her obvious distress. She wanted to tell him yes, that she could do what he asked but her voice had left her. However, deep down she could feel her anger and rage rising at the thought of the manipulative couple who had brought her to this. She would not let them make her cower any longer! If they wanted a show…she would give them a show! She was an actress after all, wasn't she? Well, it was true that she had only been an understudy so far, but she had watched and studied the other actors in the troupe well enough to have picked up a trick or two. This would be the performance of a lifetime…quite literally since their very lives hung in the balance. Raising her head up and looking at him with a sudden calmness she gave her answer.

"Yes, Erik. I can do it."

Erik could not have been more proud of her! She was a constant surprise to him in every way possible and he felt his heart pound to see her standing there so bravely.

"Excellent. We must go now, Nadir is waiting outside." He stepped forward and took her gently by the forearm to guide her towards the door, thankful that her long sleeves covered her delicate skin. For as much as he longed to touch her soft flesh, he knew it would be his undoing, and right now he needed all his wits about him.

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Oh no, what is going to happen? (oh wait, I already know…evil grin) But before you go to the next chapter to find out...please send a quick review. It would totally make me smile if you did.