Helena woke to the clattering of a coach. She was groggy. She had last been drinking the contents of Erik's vial and now he sat across from her in the rattling coach. He looked more frightening here than he did in his home. His long cloak seemed to soak up any light and he was little more than a shadow; his mask however was bright in the darkness.
Darkness! Helena looked out the carriage window, they were in a city, she guessed Paris and it was dark, but still the night buzzed with intrigue.
"Where is your home?" Erik's voice floated on the air in the carriage.
"How did I get here?"
"That is unimportant. Where do you live?"
Helena gave the address quietly and in a few seconds the driver of the carriage was changing direction to head for her house.
The journey was tense. Erik didn't like being out and Helena was nervous about seeing her father. Too soon in her opinion they pulled up before an old alley and Helena and Erik climbed out. The driver sat rigidly in the carriage but Helena kept her question to herself. She was afraid that if she spoke she would be sick.
Silently she led the way down the alley and stopped before a door. She did not know how late it was but there were no lights on. She knew the door would be locked and did not know if anyone was home. She had not prepared for this possibility. Helena looked up at Erik. "I-it's locked. What do I do?"
The large black form drifted forward, he almost seemed to be floating rather than walking. He moved in front of the door and Helena couldn't see anything but his back. There was a click and the door swung open. Erik stepped back and Helena steeled herself to step inside. Before she took a step however something brushed against her leg. She stumbled back into Erik and looked down. A dark cat rubbed against her legs again. Helena bent and picked the dirty creature up. "Perrault." The plaintive cries of the cat were muffled as she hugged him to her.
Perrault's presence seemed to give her confidence and she stepped into her old home. Once over the threshold Helena breathed a sigh. She almost felt like the world would collapse if she came back here but everything seemed intact. Her house was a mess, however. The dark did little to hide the filth that covered every surface in the room which served as sitting room, kitchen, and dining room. Helena strode across the room and down a hall to the first door she found. It was empty. Her father was not home. Instead she went to the small table at the far side of the bed. Hesitantly she picked up a comb. It was old and not worth anything but Helena handled it like she would a priceless object. She placed the comb on the bed and started searching through the single drawer in the table. It was empty.
"Where is it? It should be here!"
No voice replied but she looked toward the doorframe. There stood Erik.
"My mother's things. There was not much but it is gone now." She looked down at the comb on the bed and then at the other side of the bed. "He sold them! That miserable bastard sold her things. Those were mine and he sold them! How dare he?"
Helena stormed from the room but was back in a flash, this time something glinted in the scarce light from the window. Helena lifted her arm and plunged the knife down to the mattress. She pulled it down ripping through the mattress. They had been hungry for months and then her father had come back with this mattress. All in an effort to make her mother feel better he said. This was why she could smell sweat and sex in the air. Yes, mother would have been very comfortable knowing who her husband was entertaining in this room.
Helena ripped at the mattress reducing it to shreds and Erik said not a word. When she could find nothing else to shred she lay the knife down and picked up the comb. "We can go now."
Erik swept from the room as she scooped up her cat and then followed. They were picking their way through the messy front room when they heard a loud swear from the door.
Helena's blood ran cold and she clutched Perrault tight.