(A/N: So...yeah...I don't really have an excuse for neglecting this. But I make amends by offering you a nice, long chapter that features the daroga!)
Life just wasn't being fair to me. First I saw Christine again only to lose her again; then I scared Angelique away, and now he had come to see me.
"Haven't you learned to trust me yet, Daroga?" I grumbled as that Persian pest calmly invited himself into my house.
"It was all over the newspapers this morning that the Vicomte and Vicomtess de Chagny made an unexpected visit to the Opera Populaire last evening, and although there were no reports of any chandeliers crashing, I wanted to see for myself if you behaved yourself," the daroga explained calmly.
I gestured around the house. "Do you see any signs of trouble here? No, Daroga, I left her alone. She did come down here once, but she left almost immediately. In fact, she said she should not have come back. Does that satisfy you?"
"I suppose it will have to," the daroga shrugged. His jade eyes narrowed. "But something else is bothering you, Erik. What is it?"
"Nothing," I muttered.
"I know you're lying."
"You know, I think you're starting to lose your detective's instinct if you're accusing perfectly truthful people of lying."
"Erik," the daroga shook his head. "I don't know why you won't let me help you."
"Maybe I don't need your help anymore. Did you ever stop to consider that?"
At that moment, the doorbell sounded (my name for the alarm system I've installed to keep intruders out).
"I didn't know you were expecting company," the daroga remarked.
"I'm not. Stay here." I rose from my chair, coiling the Punjab lasso.
"Just don't kill whoever's out there," the daroga called after me.
Ignoring him, I approached the intruder…only to find Angelique standing in front of me with the fireplace poker from last night. A white handkerchief hung limply from the top.
"I come under a flag of truce," she announced. "I accidentally took your fireplace poker with me last night." She carefully untied the handkerchief and handed me the metal rod. "I came to bring it back. But the handkerchief's mine, so I'm taking it back with me."
It pained me more than I had expected to hear Angelique's voice so aloof, so similar to how she sounded when we first met. But her eyes showed pain, and I realized exactly how I had hurt her last night.
"Angelique." I spoke her name softly and reached out my hand, but she backed away and put a hand to where I had grabbed her arm last night.
She looked down, her voice barely a whisper. "I was beginning to think I loved you…and then…this." She pushed up her sleeve to reveal a horrid purple bruise…a bruise I had given her.
The shock of seeing the outcome of my anger caused me to forget her other words: I was beginning to think I loved you…
"Look at me, Angelique." I tiled her chin so her eyes would meet mine. The sorrow in them was enough to make my heart break, and my voice broke a few times as I told her, "I am so sorry. I never…oh, Angie, it will never happen again."
"You called me Angie," she blinked in surprise. "Pierre's the only one who ever did that. Don't be sorry about it, though; I like it." She chose that moment to hug me. "I forgive you, Erik, even if I was skeptical about coming back here after last night."
I couldn't think of how to reply…fortunately, I didn't have to.
"So…is this the new Christine Daae?" the daroga inquired in an amazing combination of accusation, sarcasm, and snideness.
I turned my harsh gaze on him. "Don't you ever talk that way about her again," I growled. "Angelique is completely different."
"Yes, apparently I'm an instrument of revenge," Angelique added with a hint of sarcasm. "But it all works out for me because I've become a better singer, and he lets me pillage his bookshelves. Who are you?"
"Angelique, this is Nadir Khan, a daroga from Persia," I introduced.
"Daroga?" Her brow furrowed in confusion.
"It's his title; he was the chief of police," I explained. "Daroga, this is Mademoiselle Angelique Descartes, my pupil. And I must say that she is a much better friend than you ever were."
"I'm pleased to meet you, Monsieur Khan," Angelique spoke politely, offering Nadir her hand, which he accepted and kissed.
"The pleasure is mine, Mademoiselle. If you don't mind my asking, how did you meet Erik?"
"You can talk later," I interrupted. "Right now I think we should all head inside—and, Angelique, I have something that should help that bruise."
It certainly turned into an interesting afternoon, having Angelique sit at my kitchen table while I treated her arm and listened to her narrate the story of our meeting to the daroga, who was naturally suspicious. But he didn't say anything to her, instead telling her a much-edited version of how we had met in Persia. She seemed to enjoy it, and I couldn't tell if she knew parts were being left out or not.
It's strange to say, but I felt…happy. True to my life, however, the happiness didn't last long when the doorbell rang for the second time that day.
Everyone instinctively froze. "Does anyone else know you're here, Erik?" Nadir questioned quietly.
"No one. Everyone thinks I'm dead," I insisted.
"What about you, Angelique? Would anyone be looking for you here?"
Angelique shook her head. "No. No one knows about my lessons with Erik."
I rose and gathered the Punjab lasso. "I'll see who it is. And before you say anything, Daroga, no, I won't do any killing."
I wasn't looking at him, but I just knew he was smirking. Ignoring him, I made my way outside cautiously, making sure I stayed as hidden as possible.
It wasn't long before voices drifted through the air. "I don't know what Christine saw last night, but it couldn't have been him. He's long gone, Monsieur le Vicomte."
Madame Giry and the boy! Christine must have told them about coming down here the night before, and they wanted to see for themselves.
"Christine wouldn't make up something like this. If she said she saw him, well, it's up to us to make sure he doesn't bother her again."
This wasn't good. I hurried back to house, making as little noise as possible. Once I got there, I announced tersely, "Madame Giry and that boy are on their way down here. We have to go."
"Go where?" Angelique wanted to know.
Nadir understood me immediately. "The back door. Of course. Come, Angelique; we must hurry."
Angelique still looked confused but took his hand and practically ran to keep up with him. I came last in case I had to head off the intruders—there was no sense in having them bother two innocent people (although I savored a brief mental image of the daroga clashing with Madame Giry).
I was worried at how well the daroga seemed to know all of the hidden passages—would I never get a moment's peace from that man? It was probably a good thing, though, because the two of us were able to keep Angelique from panicking (she had trouble seeing in the dark and tripped more than once on unseen obstacles).
Soon we came to a passage that led back into the hallway. The daroga and Angelique stepped outside into the light; I remained in the shadows.
"How do you think they got down there?" Angelique wondered.
"Madame Giry showed the boy the way there once before. There are many ways to my lair."
"Shouldn't you do something about them? What if they discover you're still alive?"
Before I had a chance to answer, Angelique spoke again, "Wait, I know! I'll find where they went down, pretend I followed them there, and they'll turn back to get me back to the surface!"
"Angelique"—I began, but she didn't listen. She instead darted down the hallway, looking for a secret entrance that had been perhaps carelessly left open.
The daroga chuckled. "Erik, if you have an ounce of sense, you'll marry that girl because you'll never find someone else who actually likes you as much as she does."
"Shut up, Daroga."
Marry Angelique? The idea was absurd. And yet…I felt far happier than I ought to knowing that she and I were back on speaking terms.