andersm: Yes, indeed Erik does! Hopefully you'll like this chappie.

Sochra (aka Raoul's secret lover): 'Ello, love! Thank you for enjoying my crap...I HAD to do a cliffie, Sara...authors LOVE to do cliffhangers! They're fun! See ya sometime during or after vacation!

xxXGoddessXofXdeadXloveXxx: lol, everyone loves Erik! YAY!

phantomgoddess34: Thanks so much! You'll see how Nadia reacts to Erik in just a moment!

Phantomforever: Thanks! I always have chances to update, it's just the fact that I'm a lazy bum, and that I get writer's block frequently.

Ok, please read the following note: After this chapter, I might have a little writers block. I know exactly what's gonna happen in later chapters, but what goes in between is rather difficult. So don't be mad if I stall for a week or so. The only reason I'm writing is because when I was listening to Maroon 5 in the depths of despair last night, they gave me an Aha moment.

Also, I think Erik is horribly OOC in this. Maybe it's just me. But if you think so, tell me how I can get him back to his awesome self. Also, does Erik have a last name? I know Leroux doesn't mention one, but did Kay? Also, can someone tell me where I can find the basics of the most well-known King Arthr story that has Morgan le Fay in it? Thanks in advance to anyone who bothers to help me with these!

Chapter 4 - Deal with the Devil

For a moment, Nadia just stood there with a blank stare.She knew she probably looked like an idiot, standing there with her mouth agape, but at the moment,her head was swirling with thoughts:

"Oh crap...I'm in trouble! I knew it was a bad idea for Meg to give me this room! Stupid Meg...stupid Christine! She and Raoul lied to everyone! God damn them to the ninth circle of hell! Hmmm...he's not half-bad looking for a psychotic murderer. What! What am I thinking! The famous Phantom of the Opera is standing in front of me, about to murder me or rape me or God knows what, and I am judging his facial features? Oh, Lord..."

All this passed through her mind in a few seconds. Getting up her courage, she opened her mouth to speak. An odd squeaking noise came out instead. The man smirked.

"Well? Have you nothing to say for yourself?" He took a step forward. Nadia instinctively took a step back. He kept advancing, she kept retreating. As she passed her open bag on the bed, she eyed the small dagger she always brought everywhere with her. Stealthily, she picked it up and hid it behind her back.

Soon she was up against the wall next to her bed, and the man was only a few feet away from her. She finally found her voice and said quietly, with an aggravating tremble in her voice, "Keep away, or I'll...do...something really bad." "Great job, moron." she berated herself. "He'll be sure to take you seriously now..."

"Ah! She does have a voice! But, of course, I already knew that." The man, ghost or whatever he was crossed the short space between them. They were so close that Nadia could see every detail of his face, and could smell the odd, delicious aroma that surrounded him. She doubted if there was even an inch of air between them.

"What," he breathed in her ear, making her shiver not all unpleasantly, "could a mere girl do to me even if she tried?"

Now, Nadia's weak point was being called, well, weak. She knew she was most certainly not weak, and hated to be judged so because of her sex. She had never been a tomboy, it was just the fact that she wasn't girly. So that was why she whipped the dagger out from behind her back.

Before she even had a chance to do anything with it, however, he had caught her wrist and pinned it against the wall. He gave that oddly terrifying smirk again. "My point exactly." he said calmly, amusement in his tone. Thankfully, he moved away, putting Nadia at her ease. It didn't look as if he was going to rape her...or kill her. But why was he here?

"Miss Laurent, I beg your pardon for bursting in like this." The phantom announced, turning to face her, the cloak swirling around him. "But I have a small, trifling favor to ask of you. It's nothing much, really, just a job that I need done."

"And why, monsieur," Nadia found herself saying almost calmly, "could you not have picked someone else?"

"For a variety of reasons. Some I don't trust, some I don't know, some I don't like. The ones I do trust can no longer assist me, or they have left, or they have died in tragic carriage accidents. And just as I was looking for help, here comes an apparently intelligent, charming, lively little girl who is completely oblivious of any danger there is to be had at this place."

"Excuse me, monsieur, but I was not oblivious to anything! I, and everyone else here, was under the impression that you were dead. Oh, I am going to kill that girl." she muttered the last words under her breath, looking away from the phantom.

"In other words, oblivious. But I'm getting off track. I need someone to be a... go-between, I suppose you could call it. In other words, I write a letter to the managers, give it to you, you give it to them, they give you a reply, you bring the reply back to me."

She was speechless for a moment, staring at him with the utmost dislike. "You expect me to put my job on the line just so you can get a nicer cravat with your salary that you'd get for being a menace? Do you think me completely stupid? Or insane? I wouldn't do that for most people, let alone you! Not only do I not know you, but you're known for being a psychotic madman! I'm sorry, but you're on your own."

She turned away, hoping he'd see that that was the end of the conversation and leave. Instead, she felt a pair of hands on her shoulders. Once again, the phantom was too close for comfort, and she was quite close to either a panic attack or to falling under that aggravating seductive spell that he seemed to cast on everyone...even men. That part was rather odd.

"Nadri...that's your nickname, isn't it?" the Phantom whispered in her ear.

"Yes...it's for Nadia Adrienne...my brother made it up." "Did I miss something?" she thought to herself. "Why on earth would he want to know my nickname?"

"Well, Nadri, I have a propisition for you. I heard you singing, and that gave me an idea, and if you're wise, you'll accept. If you agree to be my messenger, I will give you voice lessons. Not just any voice lessons, mind you. Christine Daaé took her lessons from me, and if she had stayed at the Populaire, she would be the lead soprano instead of that dying cat we have now." Nadia gave a slight smile, remembering Carlotta's inhuman shrieks when she hit the high notes at practice today.

"Just think of it, Nadia." His head was on her shoulder now, and he was breathing every word into her ear. "Nadia Laurent, the Populaire's lead alto. Stepping into your dressing room after an opening performance and having the scent and sight of baskets and baskets of roses assault your senses. Having a long and successful career here, and even after you retire to your beautiful country mansion, your name is still respected and admired, and every little chorus girl wants to be you. Just accept my offer, and all that could become a reality. But if you don't...well, you'll probably be a background singer for the rest of your life. It's your choice."

Nadia weighed the pros and cons. She'd be getting voice lessons from a wonderful teacher, but that teacher was the renowned Opera Ghost. She'd be on the road to fame, but she could be fired at any moment if the managers suspected she was taking the money. And what if this man was cheating her somehow? What if he would never come up with his side of the bargain, and she'd still be forced to be his messenger? What if he killed her in a fit of rage? She stepped away from him and turned towards him.

"I will deliver your messages for you for a short period of time." she said calmly, looking him straight in the eye. "If either of us are unhappy with the way things are going after a month, then you'll have to find a new messenger, and I'll have to be content with the background. If we're both all right with it after that, then...you'll have a messenger as long as you need one. Do we have an agreement?" She held out her hand. He stared at her for a moment, then took it and gave it a brief shake.

"I suppose that's all right." he muttered. "As for your lessons, come here every night at 8:00, and don't tell anyone about them."

"I know that! I'm really not that stupid." She protested, but he had already disappeared. She flopped down on her bed, staring at the canopy above her. For a long time she was silent, but then she said to herself, "I just sold my soul to the devil."