The coach lurched suddenly and Erik felt the hairs on the back of his neck prickle. Grabbing Christine firmly by the shoulder he pulled her close to him, he wrapped his cloak around them both and pulled his fedora over his eyes – effectively blending them both into blackness. He bent his head down and whispered softly;

"Don't move… trouble"

Christine's head lay against Erik's chest and she could hear it beat steadily, showing almost no emotion at what could possibly be a difficult situation. Erik's breath came in short sharp gasps as he heard horses hooves approach them with speed. Through the slight gap in his cloak he was able observe what was happening. Several horses pulled up beside them, neither passing them nor letting them go past them.

"Raoul…" Erik whispered through gritted teeth, the venom spilling out.

Erik felt Christine suck in a breath and start shaking slightly.

"Shhhh… he won't place a hand on you, he has to go through me first"

Still the horses stayed beside them, imposing, menacing, cool and calculating. The powerful white horse leading the pack, luminous in the dark, Raoul on the back, sitting tall at the reigns his long hair billowing behind him like a cape, his gun fixed against his side, shining in the moonlight.

The coach lurched again and both Erik and Christine gave a startled breath – what were they trying to do? The rider gave a cry and struggled to keep the horses under control as the horses to the side of them startled them.

He strained his ears but he could not pick any voices up, only the deafening thud of the horse's hooves to the side and the wooden wheels of the coach trundling along. Erik shut his eyes for a moment, trying to think. What were they trying to do? Were they trying to get in or simply to scare? How could they possibly know it was them inside? Thousands of thoughts and scenario's ran through Erik's brain, causing a growl to rise up with him that he could barely control.

He cursed himself and put his head down, feeling Christine hair beneath him. He took in her scent – and it calmed his nerves slightly, he swallowed and took a deep breath and waited for the storm to pass. Christine was still shivering in his embrace, and again he whispered words of comfort.

Suddenly the coach stopped and they were plunged into silence – closing in around them like an invisible cloak. Neither dared to breathe as Erik tried to estimate the next move. Quickly he snaked his hand round to his inside pocket, feeling the cat-gut underneath his fingers – safe, strong and secure. He would do anything to protect his wife and child, even if it meant breaking a promise he had made to Christine so long ago.

"Christine…." Erik said quietly, he felt his wife lift her head up slightly – she was listening. "No matter what happens, do not look up okay? They do not know me by sight as well as they do you."

They waited in the darkness, their blood pounding in their ears. Erik – like a coiled rattle-snake ready to strike, fingered his Punjab lasso, a smile starting to alight his features as he heard distinct footsteps coming closer by the second. His nostrils flared slightly and a metallic taste filled his mouth as the adrenaline started to pump through his veins – making him dangerous – it's been too long…

Silently he counted down, his cat like hearing and eyesight meant he knew exactly where he was even though he could barely see through the gap in his cloak. 5…4…3…2…1

Suddenly the door was wrenched open and just as quickly a hand shot out, the snake catching his prey, rendering him dead before he had even chance to move, even had chance to breathe – his neck snapping with an audible crack as he hit the gravel track beneath, his jaw hitting the coach step heavily, the only sound a dull thud as he hit the ground – no scream, no cry, no nothing; exactly how I like it Erik thought with relish.

Erik took a moment to compose himself, a maniacal grin threatened to tear his face apart, his heart pounding in his chest from the emotion, it truly had been too long. Suddenly he was aware of more footsteps running their way, the man's breath casting steam into the dark night, his breathing as heavy as his footsteps. It was only a matter of time before he had reached the opening and saw his fallen comrade. Just as fast he was dealt the same blow, leaving Raoul completely unguarded and he knew this.

He snaked his hand out again and shut the coach door with authority, banging on the top of the coach and shouting as loud as his lungs would let him; "Now!"

He was rewarded as the coach started forward, the startled coach driver obvious as keen to get out of the way as possible. Erik let Christine go and sat back with an exhausted sigh. It suddenly hit Christine; he had killed again. She sat back and snuggled against the crux of his shoulder – it always amazed her how he could sit so nonchalantly as if he'd done something trivial like sneeze. She knew it was wrong but she also knew that they would have been in a worse situation had the men not had been stopped.

Her conscious waged war inside her head. Erik sensed this and looked down at his wife, her fists clenching and unclenching as she worked everything over in her mind.

"I'm sorry, mon ange, it was the only way…"

Christine gave a sigh and said resignedly "I know my love…"

And with that not another word was said, it was a necessary evil.

Raoul dismounted his horse and ran over to where his men lay in the moonlight, no marks on them save for the dark bruise forming around their necks – they looked so peaceful. Suddenly he hit him. Erik… it was Erik in there… and surely Christine too, else why else would he have been so brutal?

Raoul swore into the nighttime, his only reply the silence that spoke volumes.