A/N: Hey guys! To make up for the very long delay and the incredible shortness of the last chapter, I have made this one extra long. I don't especially like this chapter that much…but hey, those bad guys are going down, lol.

Thank you so much to all of my reviewers, I appreciate your kind words more than I can say.

Late in the afternoon, Christine emerged from her room. Erik stood immediately as she entered the sitting room and they stood in silence for a moment before Christine moved. She walked right up to Erik and laid her hand on his cheek for a moment before dropping her hand back to her side.

"Do you mind if we eat now Erik? I'm a little hungry," she said.

Erik shook himself slightly and forced a regular speech pattern past his lips, "Of course, you haven't eaten all day."

He started towards the kitchen, but was stopped in his tracks when a loud crash emitted from the room directly across from him. Christine let out a small scream of surprise while Erik strode quickly to where the sound had come from. He knew there was no one in the house. But someone was causing a disturbance somewhere.

He strode into the room and over to the wall where the hollow ducts he had installed throughout the opera came to an end. He listened carefully at each one. The auditorium, the managers' office, he stopped when he heard odd sounds emitting from one of the ducts. They were coming from Christine's dressing room.

He let out a growl before he turned on his heel and strode out of the room. He nearly banged straight into Christine as he exited; she had been standing right in the doorway, watching him listen.

"What is it?" she asked, her eyes fearful at the expression on Erik's face.

"It will be alright Christine, I'm going to see what has happened. You must stay here," he said brushing past her on his way to the door.

"But Erik…" she began.

He whirled around to face her, his eyes flashing wildly. "Stay here," he hissed.

He immediately regretted speaking to her that way as she recoiled as if he had struck her. His face softened. "You're safe here Christine."

He walked out the door, leaving Christine standing very alone in the sitting room.

"Damn it!"

Marius flung open the door of Christine's dressing room and hurried inside. "What are you doing in here?"

"I tripped over this damn table," Richard answered, gesturing towards the vanity that had tipped over and crashed to the floor.

"Well hopefully no one heard that! How much noise can you possibly make?"

"It was an accident all right?" Richard exploded, rounding on his companion.

Marius held up his hands. "All right Richard. Let's not fight, let's just do this and get out of here."

"What are we looking for again?"

Marius sighed. "We're looking for something that could tell us where that girl has gone, a note, a letter, an address book….just something."

"Here, help me stand this up will you?"

Together, the two men righted the vanity. Richard began to dig through the drawers, while Marius moved to the wardrobe, checking the pockets of cloaks and dresses.

"Hey, what do you think this is?" Richard asked, pulling a book from the bottom right drawer.

Marius walked over to him and snatched the book out of his hand. He opened it and thumbed through a few pages.

"It seems to be her diary," he said after a moment. "Who knows? Perhaps she mentioned an acquaintance with whom she might be staying." He squinted at the pages for a moment. "Here Richard, come over here where there's more light."

The two men moved closer to one of the gas lamps on the wall opposite of the large mirror that graced the room. If they had stayed where they were, then they might have seen the mirror swing open and a masked man emerge from behind it.

Erik twisted his Punjab lasso between his fingers as he watched the men struggling to read Christine's diary. It would be so easy to kill them now, without them suspecting a thing, but it would be a most cowardly thing to do. To attack your enemy when they have their back turned. They had no chance either way, but it was only proper to give them a chance to defend themselves.

Erik's eye caught on something on Christine's vanity. It was a gun. How careless of them to just leave it lying around so.

"Excuse me," Erik said with barely controlled anger.

The two men spun around in surprised alarm and had barely enough time to register what was happening before Erik attacked. The lasso shot from his hand, landing neatly around Richard's neck. Erik gave a hard yank and the man fell to the ground, unconscious.

Marius watched his companion fall in frozen shock. He looked back to Erik with horror as the lasso went back to him. He reached towards his belt, then saw the gun on the vanity, several paces away. It was then he realized he had no chance.

The lasso shot out again, landing around Marius's neck this time. He struggled to loosen it, but it was no use. Erik moved towards him, one hand held the end of the lasso and the other pushed Marius up against the wall. He gave Marius just enough air to speak.

"Why are you here?" Erik demanded, his golden eyes flashing at the intruder.

Marius coughed and continued to pull on the rope around his neck.

"Who sent you here?" Erik said.

Marius continued to struggle, but managed to choke out, "Jean."

Jean… That name sounded very familiar to Erik. Then he realized where he knew it. He was one of the men involved in Christine's kidnap! But he had been killed. Erik had seen the bullet wound himself. But then he realized… He hadn't actually ascertained that he had died. How could he have been so stupid to assume that? But he had had Christine's welfare to worry about, checking for signs of life in a criminal hadn't exactly seemed more important at the time.

Erik's grip on the lasso grew tighter as he thought about that man still at large, and still after Christine!

"Where?" he growled.

Marius sputtered and had just enough time to choke out an address before his oxygen was cut off completely and he slumped to the floor. Erik eyed the two unconscious men on the ground. They would awaken eventually, but he doubted they would remain in the opera house. Most likely they would run for it, they were cowards, helpless without a strong leader to protect them. And that's exactly who Erik was after.

Erik snatched up the pistols the two men had carried so they could be disposed of, leaving the men unarmed, then he strode briskly out of the room, slamming the door behind him. The force of the door caused the wood to split, but Erik hardly cared at this point. He had bigger things to do.

Christine stared at the door that had just closed behind Erik. There was something very wrong, she knew. He would have told her everything was all right if it was. But he had said no such thing.

She was afraid. Erik was gone and she was all alone. She knew that no one could ever get into Erik's house, but she would feel so much better if he was with her. What was he doing? Where had that crash come from?

Christine sank onto the divan next to her. What if…what if they were after her? A small cry escaped her mouth involuntarily. She quickly covered her mouth to muffle the sound. It echoed eerily off of the walls, reminding her of how very alone she was.

She curled herself onto the divan, clutching her knees and praying that Erik would come back soon.

Erik flew from the opera in rage. He didn't bother hailing a carriage. The setting sun caused the buildings to cast enormous shadows that Erik had no trouble blending in with as he ran towards the address where Jean was meant to be.

He reached it in a fairly short amount of time considering that it was many blocks away from the opera house. Erik was surprised to see that it was a small flat. He was rather expecting another grand house. However, there was a balcony, he noted, looking upward. He scaled a drainpipe and landed gracefully on the balcony.

He peered inside and saw a rather large sitting room. A fire was lit in the grate and a man sat in a chair facing it. Erik recognized the man, even in the dim light of the room.

With one swift kick, the glass door shattered completely. Jean jumped up in surprise, swinging around in the direction of the door. There stood Erik, drawn up to his full height, his cloak swirling around him majestically. His eyes were full of

fire and hatred as he looked down on this man who had caused Christine such pain.

Jean gaped at the man who had burst into his sitting room so unexpectedly for a few moments before he managed to pull himself together.

"Who are you? What are you doing here?" Jean demanded. He quivered slightly at the look Erik shot him at these questions, but tried to remain as imposing as possible. Showing weakness in the presence of this man did not seem like the best thing to do.

Erik took a few steps forward and Jean took a few steps back, failing miserably to hold his ground.

"You have no right to be here," Jean stuttered. "I have five men downstairs at my beck and call. You'll be killed if you stay." Jean gained confidence with each word, sure that this man would now leave.

But Jean shrunk down again as Erik began to laugh. He laughed in Jean's face, a cold, merciless laugh that told Jean quite clearly that he couldn't have been more wrong.

Erik continued to advance on him, until Jean was backed up against a wall.

"What do you want from me?" Jean demanded. It was unnerving that the man never spoke.

Then Erik did speak, his teeth clenched and he growled, "I want you to leave a certain Christine Daae in peace."

Jean paled slightly. That's what this was about? Christine Daae?

"Ch…Christine Daae? Monsieur, I don't know what you are talking about."

At this Erik could take no more. His hands shot out and he wrapped his long fingers around the other man's neck.

"I will kill you with my bare hands if that's what it takes," Erik growled. "What do you want with her?" he demanded.

Jean sputtered as Erik's grip tightened around his neck. Erik loosened it slightly so the man could speak.

"Please," Jean began, tugging at Erik's hands, but saw that Erik would not be moved by his pleas.

"What do you care anyway?" Jean said. He seemed to know that nothing would do him any good and seemed determined to go down fighting. "What good is she to you? One less whore in this city if I dispose of her!" Jean spat.

Erik's entire body shook with fury as his hands tightened and twisted. There was a loud crack as Jean's neck broke and he went crashing to the floor.

Suddenly there was a commotion on the stairs as the men Jean had spoken of came bounding up them.

As they entered the room, with their revolvers extended, they caught sight of an imperious man standing in the frame where the door to the balcony once was. He eyed them furiously, then spun around and jumped neatly off of the balcony. One of the men ran outside, and looked over the side, but saw nothing. At the same time, the other men discovered Jean's body.

Night had fallen as Erik prowled through the streets. He had never felt such rage in his life, not ever. He felt an incredible thirst to kill, something he hadn't felt in a long time. Jean wasn't enough. He looked around savagely, then suddenly stopped in his tracks as he realized what he was doing, he was looking for a victim.

He threw himself into an alley and slumped against the brick wall of a building, sliding all the way to the ground. He covered his face with his hands. No…he couldn't do this. He couldn't harm an innocent person simply because he felt like it.

He noticed vaguely that his breathing was much too fast. He forced himself to sit there until his breathing was regulated and some of his anger had faded.

When his bloodlust had for the most part subsided, he stood up and continued back to the opera house. He fervently hoped that no one crossed his path on the way.

Erik slipped into one of the hidden entrances to the Paris Opera and hurried through the passageways. It was Thursday, and that usually meant Madame Giry could be found in her office. He hoped today would be no different.

He entered the passage that went along the wall of her office and peered through the peephole he had carved. She was indeed inside, sitting at her desk.

"Madame Giry!" he called, a little more loudly than he had intended.

Madame Giry jumped at the sound of his voice. It had startled her and she could tell by his tone that something was very wrong.

She stood up anxiously. "Erik, is everything all right?"

Erik sighed; no everything was not all right.

He continued more calmly, so as not to frighten her again. "Madame Giry, I need you to summon the police."

Erik rowed swiftly across the lake, trying to get back to Christine as quickly as possible. No doubt he had left her quite frightened. Of course, she had good reason to be.

He docked the boat as quickly as possible and practically ran back to the house. He burst inside the door, checking the sitting room first. It was empty. Erik ran through and into her room without knocking. She wasn't there.

He ran back out into the sitting room. "Christine!"

"I'm here Erik."

Erik swung around and went limp with relief when he saw Christine emerge from the music room.

He sunk down onto the divan and put his head in his hands. Not seeing her immediately had thrown him into such a state of panic. He swallowed several times and forced himself to breathe.

He jumped as Christine laid her hand on his shoulder.

"Erik?" she whispered.

And now he had frightened her.

"I'm sorry Christine," he said standing. "I was just…alarmed when I didn't see you.

"What happened Erik?" she asked carefully.

"It was nothing important, all that matters is that you're safe Christine," he answered, turning to go.

"No Erik!" Christine said suddenly. Erik swung back around to face her. She had her arms crossed and she was glaring at him.

"You will not just leave me here telling me it was nothing important! I know something is wrong! Now what happened?"

Erik looked at Christine in surprise at her outburst. But, he really couldn't keep this from her if she was determined to know.

"All right Christine," Erik said resignedly. He gestured for her to sit and she did so immediately. He seated himself beside her.

Erik told her everything that had happened, leaving out most of his encounter with Jean. All he told her was that Jean was dead.

"Madame Giry is summoning the police now," Erik concluded. "I suppose we will have to find out the rest from the morning paper won't we?"

He looked up from his hands and cast his gaze over Christine. She was very pale and her hand rested at her throat. Erik saw tears forming in her eyes.

"Oh my dear, please, don't cry," he pleaded, reaching his hand up to her cheek, letting it linger an inch away from her skin.

She looked at him, but didn't seem to really see him. "Thank you for telling me," she said dazedly, then stood and retreated in the direction of her room.

Erik stood and watched her go. But suddenly she froze and her body began to rack with sobs.

Erik watched her helplessly. He stood and moved closer to her, how much he wanted to wrap her in his arms! But he couldn't quite bring himself to do it.

Christine sensed his close proximity and turned to face him, her eyes swollen with tears. "What did I do Erik? Why is he after me?"

"You have done nothing Christine," Erik said softly, again letting his fingers trace the air next to her face.

Christine's gazed moved to his fingers, then shifted to look into Erik's eyes, his eyes that were filled with nothing but longing. She tore her eyes away and took a few steps back.

"I'm sorry Erik," she said softly and then retreated to her room.

Erik's hand remained in the air where her cheek had been but a moment before. He stared at it for a moment before clenching it into a fist a slamming it against the wall with all of his strength.

A/N: Please review! :)