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Chapter 35

Erik

I believed her.

But it didn't change the fact that her deception still stung. It didn't change the fact that, had she not deceived me, we might not be where we were now. She might have simply grown bored of the letters and moved on. That's what hurt - we were brought physically together due to lies and distrust and suspicion. Not through a mutual interest or attraction.

I believed her. Yes. But I felt foolish, even now.

I awoke early, dressed (I'd moved my wardrobe from the bedroom to the chamber, moved one of the dressers there), locked the chamber doors behind me. I couldn't have her discovering my sleeping arrangements.

I went downstairs and walked into my study. I'd leave her a note - I wanted to get started on discovering what I could about this killer; seeing if, perhaps, I could find out who'd taken Isabelle and Emma. I couldn't allow a monster to roam my Opera House.

A second monster, that is.

I pulled out a sheet of paper from within my black oak desk, writing out my explanation for where I would be. I went to the parlor and placed it on the coffee table. That would likely be the first place she'd look - if not the second, should she check the kitchen first.

I'd be back within the next few hours, I let her know. She needn't worry.

Not that she likely would. She didn't seem inclined to be overly fearful.

I went for my lantern by the door, but saw with surprise that it wasn't there. Odd. Had I left it on the boat by accident? I wasn't normally so careless, but it had been a strange day. I opened the front door-

And saw with further shock that she was sitting on the dock, legs bent to the side with the lantern next to her, staring into the black water.

I raised a brow at her. "Christine."

Her gaze whipped to mine. She blinked, then glanced at the lantern. "Sorry." She made to stand, bringing the light with her. "I wanted to be outside. Well - as outside as I could be." She looked at the water. "Remember you said there were mermaids in the lake?"

"I do."

"I wish I'd believed that." She gave a sad smile. "I wish I had the capacity to." A pause. "That's what I was thinking, just now. How nice it would be to have that sort of worldview, that anything is possible."

"I suppose," I said, "but your worldview is what motivated that first letter, isn't it? Had you been as gullible as the rest of the Opera cast, you wouldn't even know my name."

She held my stare. "I'm glad I know your name."

"Why?"

A flicker of regret in her eyes. "You have taken me in to keep me safe. Whatever doubt I'd had regarding my feelings of friendship for you is gone."

"I appreciate it." I couldn't tell if she was saying these words out of genuine affection or guilt. I didn't want to get my hopes too high. "Unfortunately, Christine, I do need my lantern. I need to return to the surface. I'd like to do a bit of digging into who the killer might be."

She straightened. "I want to come."

I was taken aback. "Absolutely not."

"Absolutely yes." She stepped forward, lantern swinging lightly in her hand. "It involves me, doesn't it? I should be involved."

"This is a matter for the Phantom, Christine."

"Then I'll be a Phantom, too."

I blinked, and then laughed. "Really? I don't think so. There is only one Opera Ghost."

"Then I won't call myself an Opera Ghost. I will be..." She thought. "I will be the Ballet Wraith."

I merely stared at her, lips twitching.

I didn't say so aloud, but if I was truthful, I think I liked that title.

She narrowed her eyes at me. "I won't give you the lantern if you don't let me come."

I scoffed, though I was immensely amused. "I could make the journey with or without light."

"It'll be inconvenient, though."

"Keeping me hostage in my own home, my dear?" I took a slow step toward her. She didn't back down, though women and men larger, older than her had shrunk under my stare. Christine, however, seemed to tilt her chin up a bit higher. "I thought we were done with the manipulations."

She did seem to become smaller at that, her face going blank with shame. "Sorry," she whispered. Then she held out the lantern to me. For me to take. Away from her. An offering of defeat and apology.

I sighed.

I could deny her nothing.

Pitiful. Pathetic. Desperate.

I nodded to the gondola. "Get in the boat."

Her eyes widened. "Pardon me?"

"Get in the boat, Ballet Wraith. We have a monster to trap."