Erik seemed taken aback at my sudden switch of airs. He took a few steps forward and growled his response. "Or I could just kill you now and save both of us a lot of hassle."

I stiffened at the thought, fear coursing through my body and my mind racing. But the more I thought about it… "Sure, why not? That way, in the afterlife, I can brag about being the only twenty-first century fangirl to ever have gotten Punjabbed by the Phantom himself." I gave a pleasant smile, even though my stomach was doing flips and cartwheels.

"And you're not at all disturbed by this?"

"Well," I started ticking off my reasons on my fingers, "I don't know how to get home, I'm technically not going to be born for another century, it'd prevent me from screwing up the timeline and possibly creating a paradox that would give a serious headache every time I'd think about it, nobody would give a damn here, everything I have been working on for the past ten years or so I can't get to and I doubt I could re-create from memory, I don't have any of my research material even if I wanted to continue my work, and I'd get bragging rights in the afterlife. Yeah. You know, I don't see any down to this—if you don't count the fact that I couldn't give you valuable advice on the whole Christine situation."

Again, he was taken aback. "I don't know how you know about her, but I don't need advice on how to handle her—especially from a girl like you," he seethed.

"Okay, several things," I said, raising an eyebrow. I pointed to myself. "One: twenty-first century." As if that explained everything. "Two: she's mentioned in your book—a lot. Three: I'm twenty-two. I'm older than Christine is. And four: you may not need it now, but you will when the Vicomte comes into the picture—if he hasn't already." I casually examined my long, nicely trimmed nails.

I glanced up to see him glowering at me. "Let me help you find words for that look. Damn her annoyingly correct womanly logic!" I smiled. He glared.

"You will stay here until I decide what to do with you." Erik left, sliding the door shut behind him and camouflaging it into the wall again.

I ran to where he left and examined the wall. It took me a little while, but I could faintly make out the outline of a door. "Let's see…he didn't outwardly reach out and press anything, so it has to be around here somewhere…" This search took me, like, twenty 'little whiles' to finally find the switch to open the door, but I found it. (I'm so proud of me! pat, pat, pat Ah! My elbow! I broke my elbow patting myself on the back! okay, off track, sorry) Getting out after that was easy. I walked around, exploring a bit, but apparently I make a lot of noise, even though I try to walk softly.

"How did you get out?!" he yelled, grabbing my arm and spinning me around.

"Ah!" His move silently skills still creep me out. He's gotta have at least a plus 175 in that skill alone, not counting his Dex modifier. (Sorry. Got a little DnD geeky there.) "Whoa! Chill!" I said, trying to slow my racing heart. "I didn't touch anything. I was just looking around." His grip tightened and I found myself clawing at his hand. "Hey! I opened the door! I used to open up the childproof locks on the cupboards when I was sixteen months! No biggie! I saw where you left and used logic from there."

He dragged me back to my room and roughly threw me back in.

"I just wanted to tell you something!" He paused, the door halfway closed. "Number one sixty-eight of the Evil Overlord's list is 'I will plan in advance what to do with each of my enemies if they are captured. That way, I will never have to order someone to be tied up while I decide his fate.'" I couldn't help but giggle as he slammed the door shut and locked it.

Sprawling out on the bed, I awaited Erik's return.