The Phantom of the Opera
Part Fourteen
The next day, Christine asked Rosa to keep Dominique busy while she and Erik talked. Sitting in the study of the house, they both examined the mask and the note. Christine massaged her temples and said quietly, "This doesn't make sense. Who could have gotten hold of the mask?"
"You left it on the table. The Viscount arrived, you got hurt and then he left. Did he take the mask with him?"
"I don't know. I was on the floor, I didn't see. He might have done. It was definitely gone when you brought me back the next day. I never really thought about it before," Christine said thoughtfully.
Erik settled back in his chair, looking at the pink mask. "It's definitely not him. It must be someone who knew what happened."
"That's most of the Opera House."
"It won't be one of them. What about the Viscount's men? They were at the house that night," Erik pondered.
Christine picked up the mask and turned it over in her hands. She chewed her lip, trying to think. "Maybe… maybe someone is seeking revenge. For the death of the Viscount," she wondered aloud.
Erik said, "Possibly. I don't know if he had family."
"Neither do I. He wasn't married, I know that much. But I don't know if he had brothers or sisters, or even parents." She put the mask down on the desk and picked up the note. "Daae… I have been using the name le Phantome for years now. No one in the town knows my true name. Not even Thomas."
"So whoever wrote this note knows who you are. Who we are," Erik said quietly.
"And now they know about Dominique," Christine murmured.
They sat in silence. Christine glanced at Erik. He met her eye and said, "We should find out if the Viscount had family. This is most likely to be them. And I want you and Dominique to go away somewhere."
"Erik, no."
"Listen to me. If we can get you both away and in hiding, you will be safe."
"I am not going to leave you!" Christine said angrily.
Erik got to his feet and started to pace the room furiously. "And what do you suggest we do then? Stay here and wait for those men to come back with reinforcements? If they find me, they will kill me. They will take you away and will probably get rid off Dominique. If we stay here we are in danger."
"We will be in danger wherever we go! I will not leave you again! If we're going to be in danger, we have to stay together," Christine said, getting to her feet and glaring at him furiously. Erik stared at her and then shook his head.
"Christine, please, listen to sense…"
"Erik, I will not leave you. I will not leave Dominique. We are a family and, God help me, we are going to behave like one and stay together!"
He looked at her in surprise. Her face was filled with anger, her fists clenched. He crossed over to her and slipped his arms around her. "Then we need a different plan."
"I know. We should… we should find out about the Viscount. And leave here. They will find us too easily; we should go somewhere more crowded, where it will be harder for them to find us," she suggested.
Erik looked down at her. "Paris?" she asked.
"Maybe… but we need to find out who sent that message and why," he said.
"We can find out about the Viscount's family in Paris. But… Dominique…"
"We can ask Thomas and Emily to look after her. She will be safe with them. We can't travel fast enough with her."
Christine's face screwed up at the thought of leaving her daughter but Erik kissed her forehead. "She will be safe there. If we take her to Paris we take her to danger. That much is certain."
"… I will send for Thomas and Emily now," Christine said reluctantly.
When Thomas and Emily arrived a couple of hours later, they went to the study. Erik stood to greet them. Christine was standing by the window, her arms wrapped around her. They could see that she had been crying.
"What happened last night?" Thomas asked. Erik invited them to sit and explained. As he did so, Christine gazed out of the window, willing herself not to cry again. When he had finished Thomas said, "What… what are you going to do?"
"Christine and I will travel to Paris as soon as possible. We will find out about the Viscount's family and try to find out who it is that sent the note. But we cannot take Dominique. It will be far too dangerous," Erik said.
Emily understood what he was saying and said, "We will take care of her. We will keep her safe." Christine let out a slight sob and took a shuddering breath before sitting down beside Erik. Thomas looked at her.
"Shouldn't the police take care of this?"
"And what do we tell them? That we are receiving threatening notes from a man who has been dead for several years, who is hunting for the Phantom of the Opera and a woman who changed her name years ago?" Christine said quietly. Thomas didn't look happy.
"This doesn't seem like a very practical idea, Christine."
"Thomas, you don't understand. The Viscount made our lives a living hell. And someone out there is going to haunt us until the day we die, unless we put a stop to it now," Christine said frankly.
Thomas looked sceptical. "Surely it wasn't that bad. Perhaps if you just-"
"Not that bad? Thomas, he tried to rape me. On more than one occasion. If Erik hadn't saved me… he destroyed our home, separated us and tried to kill Erik!" Christine said furiously.
Emily took her hand. "Christine, please… we will take care of Dominique. Do whatever you need to, whatever it takes. We will keep her safe."
Christine rang for Rosa, who arrived a moment later. "Yes Madame?"
"Rose, I need you to pack some of Dominique's things. She will be staying with the Perons for a few days. Please bring her to us first." Rosa looked puzzled but went to fetch Dominique. The little girl ran in excitedly. Christine sat her on her lap and looked down at her. "Little One, you're going to stay with Uncle Thomas for a while. Won't that be fun?"
Dominique smiled excitedly. "Mama and Papa, too?"
"… No, Dominique. Mama and Papa have to go to Paris for a little while. That's why you get to go and stay with Uncle Thomas."
"Want Mama and Papa!" Dominique mumbled, her face creasing miserably. Erik took her tiny hand in his own gloved one.
"It will only be for a little while. And then we will all be together again." Dominique's lip wobbled and Christine hugged her.
"Don't cry, Dominique. Please don't cry."
"It will be fun. You can play with Andrew and Christopher," Emily said comfortingly.
Dominique didn't look convinced and Christine said, "I know. When you're at Uncle Thomas' you can practice singing. Then, when Papa and I come back, you sing for us and surprise us! Won't that be fun?"
Dominique considered for a moment and then nodded. "Sing."
"That's right," Christine said, hugging her tightly. Erik took Dominique and held her too.
"You'll be a good girl, won't you?"
"Yes, Papa. Sing good."
"Good girl."
When Rosa returned with Dominique's bag, Erik picked his daughter up and they all walked down the drive to the carriage. Christine kissed Dominique so many times she soon grew tired and told her mother off. Erik kissed her head and the three of them hugged tightly. Emily held out her arms for her and Erik reluctantly passed the girl over. Christine felt her heart clench and squeezed Erik's hand tightly.
The carriage set off and Christine felt tears threatening. She pushed her face into Erik's shoulder and he put his arms around her as the carriage went over the hill and out of sight.
"I let her go… I let her go…" Christine whispered, unable to believe it.
Erik held her closely and said, "We have to go. We have to set off."
They rode in the carriage in silence. Christine stared down at her hands and Erik could not bring himself to look at her. It was only when night drew near that the driver suggested they find an Inn.
"Carry on to the nearest town," Erik told him and the driver flicked the horses into moving. Erik looked over at Christine and said hesitantly, "We can finish the journey tomorrow."
"Very well," Christine said quietly.
Erik's heart wrenched painfully. She blamed him for this separation from her daughter. From their daughter. He wanted to say something, to touch her, to end her pain but knew he couldn't. So he sat in silence.
When they arrived at the inn, Erik paid for two rooms. One for themselves and one for the driver. He turned to Christine. "Are you hungry?" She shook her head and he said to the innkeeper, "We shall retire for the night."
"Very good, monsieur," he said, handing Erik a key.
In their room, Christine removed her cloak and hung it on the back of the door. A bowl of clean water stood nearby and she washed her face. Erik stood by the window, looking out at the street below. He turned to look at Christine. She was watching him through the darkness, for they had not lit the lamps.
"I'm sorry, Erik..." she whispered.
He frowned slightly. "What for?"
"For being so… so unfair. It's just that I've never left her before. Never. And I was just so afraid…" She couldn't carry on. Erik crossed to her and put his arms about her.
"It's not your fault. I know you didn't want to leave her."
"I know she'll be safe with Thomas and Emily but…"
"Shh…" he whispered.
She looked up at him. His eyes met hers. She reached up and pulled the mask away. He flinched slightly but she whispered, "Shh," and kissed him softly. Tentatively Erik cupped her face with his hands. Her own fingers fumbled with the buttons of his shirt but he whispered, "Are you certain?"
"No. But I need to..." She murmured.
Erik knew that she was upset and that she wasn't thinking straight. But he loved her. And at that moment all he wanted to do was give her what she wanted. And he did.
If he had been paying attention, and had looked out onto the street again, he would have seen someone standing there, looking up at the window, where only moments before, they had seen a white mask.
They continued to Paris the next day. Erik rented them a room in a hotel and Christine went straight to the Opera House.
Rehearsals were underway but she went straight to the office. André looked up as she knocked.
"What is it?" he asked brusquely. She looked in and he stared in astonishment. "Miss Daae. We weren't expecting you."
"Please, Monsieur, I must ask something of you," she said quickly. He sensed her urgency and offered her a seat. She sat and said, "Two nights ago my home was broken into. I believe it may be something to do with the Viscount de Martinez. I need to know if he has any family."
"A brother, I believe. Vincent de Martinez. He took over the estate after the Viscount's death. But, Miss Daae, I don't understand. Why do you think the Viscount had anything to do with it?"
Christine shook her head. "I cannot tell you. I am sorry, but I don't want to let anything out in case whoever it is finds out."
"Is there anything I can do to help?" André asked. Christine shook her head.
"No… but please, don't tell anyone I was here. Not yet, it may be too dangerous."
And she slipped out without another word.
Erik was sat at the table of their lavish hotel room when Christine entered. His head was bent low, the mask to her, his hands over his hair.
"The Viscount had a brother, who now runs their estate. His name is Vincent de Martinez," Christine said, hanging her coat on a stand and turning to him. He didn't move. Christine frowned. "Erik? What is wrong?"
She crossed and touched his arm. His hand darted out and seized her wrist. She cried aloud and then screamed as he got to his feet. It wasn't Erik at all, but a man with dark hair, wearing his mask.
"Who are you? Where is Erik?" she demanded, struggling.
The man smirked and said, "Got her."
Several more men emerged from the other rooms. Christine stared around at them, trying to pull free. "Who are you? What do you want?"
"You'll find out soon enough."
"Where is Erik?" she demanded. The man wearing Erik's mask sneered at her.
"That deformed freak has already been taken on ahead."
"Taken where?" Christine demanded.
Suddenly a hand clamped around her mouth, clutching a cloth. Her visions blurred and she tried scream but her voice wasn't working properly. Her limbs became unbearably heavy and darkness overcame her.
He felt blood on his face. It was warm and sticky. Erik reached up with his right hand to touch it. It was then that he realised the false hand was gone. He stared at the stump of his wrist and then looked blearily around the room he was in.
It was a cellar of some kind. He had been in the hotel room and someone had knocked on the door. Men had entered and hit him over the head before he could move. The last thing he remembered was someone removing his mask. He touched his face and found it was gone.
He managed to sit up and winced at the throbbing pain in his skull. He moaned and looked around. Where the hell was he? Standing slowly, he started to move around the room. No windows, but he could tell that he was underground. That came from living there so long.
Christine… where was Christine? He turned to the thick wooden door and tried the handle. It was, of course, locked. Erik began to pound his fist on the door, shouting to be released. There was no reply and Erik sank to the ground, holding his head in his hands.
"Christine… forgive me…" he whispered.
She could hear two voices. Both belonged to men. Christine struggled to open her eyes and looked around, peering blearily. The images of the men came into view. One was the man who had worn Erik's mask. It was nowhere to be seen now. The second man, she didn't recognize.
Christine lay on a sofa, in a sitting room somewhere. The man she knew gestured to her and the second man turned. Christine's eyes widened and she whispered hoarsely, "No… you're dead… you're…"
The man laughed and signalled for the first man to leave. Then he turned to Christine who was still lying on the sofa, unable to move her burning limbs. She stared at him and he said, "A mistake on your part, Miss Daae. I am not William de Martinez. Although many have commented on how similar my brother I and looked."
"Brother… you are Vincent de Martinez…"
Vincent smirked, looking uncannily like his brother. The same strong build, set jaw, blue eyes and blond hair. They were almost indistinguishable. "You've heard of me. Good. Now, let me tell you what I know about you." He stared down at her. Christine stared back, unable to believe what was happening.
"You started out as a dancing girl in the Opera Populaire, where my brother was Patron. You were quickly promoted to a singer, with my brother's help. Time and time again he offered you everything you ever wanted and you always refused. My brother was distraught. And then he discovered that you were the whore of the Opera Ghost. He saved you from that, turning the Ghost out of the Opera House. He tried to bring you here, to his estate, where you would be safe. But you were taken from him once again. He searched for you for months. And when he finally found you, he tried to destroy the Opera Ghost, or Phantom, again. And what did you do? You and that deformed beast?" He sneered down at her, anger smouldering in his eyes. "You killed him. You killed my only brother."
"He fell," Christine whispered. Vincent snorted.
"Fell? Fell? My brother, Miss Daae, was an extremely athletic man. I very much doubt he simply fell."
"Your brother's death was pure accident. And if it wasn't, it was his own fault for attacking Erik and I," Christine said furiously, managing to sit up. Vincent stared at her.
"I swore, when I took over the estate, that I would hunt you down, you and the Phantom. I found you easily enough, Christine le Phantome. And I knew that sooner or later the Phantom would join you. So I watched you. I had men in the village who reported to me regularly. And when I discovered that the Phantom had returned to you, I had men go to your house."
"They left the mask and took my box," Christine said weakly.
Vincent considered her and then nodded. Christine closed her eyes, regained a little strength and then opened them again. "Why? What could you possibly have hoped to gain by doing this?"
"All that my brother wanted was you. I promised him, on his grave, that I would find you and bring you here."
"And what now? What do you want from me?"
"Keeping you from the Phantom will be enough. For now," he said, allowing his eyes to wander her freely. Christine felt a shudder of disgust and loathing go through her.
"William de Martinez was a cruel man who made my life a living hell," she spat. Vincent smirked.
"Really, is that any way to speak of the dead?"
"Let me go. Now," Christine said, getting shakily to her feet. Vincent looked amused at this suggestion.
"I don't think I will, actually."
"You're just going to keep me here, for the rest of my life?"
"That's my current plan, yes."
Christine shook her head in disgust and marched to the door. "I'm leaving."
"Go right ahead. However, I have your lover locked in the house and men are on their way to collect your daughter. So if you don't care what happens to them, leave."
Christine turned and stared at him in horror. "Erik is here? And Dominique?"
"Dominique? What a sweet name. Yes, she should be arriving shortly. I very much look forward to meeting her. And as for… Erik? He is locked up and will not be freed. In fact, I am thinking about informing the police of his presence."
"You bastard!" Christine spat. Vincent lifted his eyebrow.
"I think my mother would have objected to that. Anyway, I will have someone escort you to your room."
"Let me see him," Christine demanded.
"I don't think so. However, if you choose to remain here and be sensible, I may allow you to see him and perhaps your daughter. But I will have to consider."
"Let me see him," she repeated, more softly.
Vincent eyed her and then sighed. "Not yet. First you should rest. You may not be aware but it's very late and frankly, I'm tired. I will have someone take you to your room and then, in the morning, you may be allowed a brief meeting with him."
Christine leant against a wall, holding her head in her hands. Erik, Dominique… both were in danger because of her. A cry welled up in her throat and escaped before she could stop herself. She clapped her hands over her mouth, trying to stop the sobs.
"Don't do this… don't take them away from me, please…" she begged. Pride had no place here. No dignity, nothing. Vincent sneered and called for a manservant.
"Take Miss Daae to the guestroom. And be sure to lock the door."
Dominique wasn't happy. The bad man had hit Uncle Thomas. He was a bad man. And she didn't like this carriage. It wasn't as nice as Mama's carriage. She glared sulkily at the man who had taken her. He was playing cards with his companion. He caught her eye and smirked before putting a card down. Dominique folded her arms crossly. "Want to go home."
"Shut up, you little brat," the bad man told her. Dominique stared at him. He wasn't allowed to say that! Mama always said that you weren't supposed to say things like that, it was rude! She looked at him sternly.
"Bad. You're bad." she told him. The men started to laugh and Dominique frowned. She didn't like being laughed at by these men.
"Want Mama and Papa," she said sulkily.
"Well, that's where you're going. You're going to see them," the second man said.
Dominique stared at him. "See Mama and Papa?"
"Yeah. Now shut up," the bad man said, playing another card. Dominique fell silent. If she was going to see Mama and Papa, she would be quiet.
Christine slept fitfully and woke only a few hours later. She went to the door and tried the handle. Locked. She started to bang the door with her fist.
"Let me out! Somebody let me out!"
No reply. Christine growled and kicked the door sharply. This did nothing except hurt her foot, which did nothing to improve her mood. She sat at a desk and tried to figure out what to do. She didn't know what she could do. She had to find out what was going on first. This Vincent… he was different from William. He hadn't planned this out. He had her but he didn't seem to know what to do with her now that she was here. Maybe she could use that to her advantage.
A couple of hours later, the door swung open. One of the servants said, "The Viscount has requested your presence."
"Really? Well, how can I possibly resist that invitation?" Christine muttered sarcastically. The servant didn't speak and she followed him to the room where she had woken the previous night. Vincent was sat at the desk but stood as she entered.
"I trust you are well rested?"
"Hardly," Christine said sharply.
"Never mind," Vincent said airily. Christine folded her arms.
"Where is Erik?"
"Safe, for now. He and your daughter are here."
"Dominique! Where is she? Take me to them!"
"I hardly think you're in a position to order me about, Miss Daae," Vincent said warningly. Christine stared at him coldly.
"I hardly think you're in a position to keep me from my fiancé and child. Why not add that to the list of imprisonment, kidnapping and blackmail that I intend to give the police?"
Vincent stared at her for a moment. Christine wandered anxiously if she had overstepped the mark. But to her surprise he simply started to laugh.
"You have spirit! I can see why my brother was so taken with you. You have fire, Miss Daae. Along with your other more… obvious attributes."
His eyes wandered again and Christine felt her skin crawl. Were all Viscounts, she wondered, this foul? Or only ones that she had the misfortune to meet? She stood her ground and said, "Take me to Erik and Dominique."
"Very well, very well," he said, still chuckling. Christine felt a strange urge to slap him. How she had changed, she realised. When faced with William she had felt nothing but horror and fear. This man however, only a few years older than herself and clearly younger than his brother, simply irritated her and she found herself wanting to shake him.
He led her through corridors, moving down through the house. Christine said, "Are you telling me that you have locked my fiancé and my young daughter in a cold, damp cellar?"
"Yes."
Christine ground her teeth. If either of them were ill…
An armed guard stood outside the door to the cellar. Vincent waved him aside and unlocked the door. Christine moved past him into the cold room. She shivered. It was freezing down here!
"Erik? Dominique?" she called quietly. There was no reply and then she heard Erik's voice.
"Christine? Is that you?"
"Erik!" she cried and moved forward. Erik moved from the shadows into the meagre light of the doorway. His mask was gone and the stump of his right hand was on display. Christine stared at him. "You are alright?" she asked. He nodded and glanced over his shoulder.
"Dominique? Mama is here."
Christine stared as the little figure of her daughter appeared, rubbing her sleepy eyes. "Hello Mama."
"Dominique!" Christine said, barely able to believe her eyes. Dominique smiled brightly. Christine cried out and swept her daughter up and then reached for Erik, pulling them both into an embrace. Erik held her tightly.
"It's alright, Christine… we're safe…"
"No. We're not." Christine whispered. She glanced over at the doorway, where Vincent stood.
He said, in perfectly calm voice, "Miss Daae is right. None of you are safe."
"Who is that?" Erik asked Christine.
"Vincent de Martinez. William's brother."
Erik stared over at him. Dominique wriggled free of her mother's grasp and marched over to look at the strange man. Vincent looked down at her, not sure what to do. Dominique eyed him. "Who you?"
"The Viscount Vincent de Martinez."
"Oh." She looked him up and down and then said frankly, " Bad man."
"What?"
"Bad man. Don't like it here," she told him plainly. Christine felt her heart pound and darted forward to pull her away. But Vincent had already crouched down and taken Dominique's hand.
"You think I am a bad man?"
"Yes," Dominique said.
Vincent chuckled and turned her around gently to face her parents. "Do you see that man, Dominique?"
"Papa."
"Yes, your Papa. He's a bad man too."
"No. Papa good," Dominique said.
Vincent laughed again and whispered, "Your papa killed people. Do you know what that means, Dominique?" Dominique shook her head. Christine felt her breath shudder as Vincent said, "It means that he hurt them. He hurt them very badly. So badly they go to sleep and never wake up."
She didn't understand. Of course you woke up. That's what you do. First you go to sleep and then you wake up. She didn't like this man but he held her arm too strongly. "Papa good." she said, although she sounded a little less certain this time. Christine moved forwards.
"Dominique, don't listen to him!"
"Your papa killed my brother, Dominique. That makes him a very bad man."
"No, Little One!" Christine cried out. Vincent pulled Dominique back slightly, away from her parents.
Dominique felt upset. She didn't like this man! He was making Mama sad! But she found that she couldn't move away. He continued to whisper in her ear.
"What do you think, Dominique? Do you want to stay with that bad man?" he asked, sneering at Christine and Erik. Erik stepped forward.
"Let her go."
"Let her decide that. Do you want to stay with the bad man, Dominique? Or do you want to come and play upstairs and be warm and happy and safe?"
"Stop it! She's only a child, don't say those things!" Christine cried.
Dominique didn't like this. She didn't like this man, and she didn't like Mama being upset and she didn't like Papa being angry. She started to cry and the man stroked her hair. "Don't cry, Dominique. I'm going to take you upstairs, and you can have something nice to eat."
"No! You can't take her!" Christine shouted. She held out her arms for her daughter and Dominique moved forward.
But she was tugged back by the Viscount who lifted her and, ignoring the wriggling, sobbing child said, "Isn't this an interesting situation, Miss Daae?"
Christine stared at him and Erik moved forward. "Release my daughter, before you strongly regret making the decision to bring us here."
Vincent didn't look particularly worried. He simply said, "I'm not going to make the decision. Miss Daae is. Dominique or the Phantom. You may leave with one, and I shall not bother you again."
Christine felt her heart sink. "What?"
"You heard, Miss Daae. Choose one."
"I… I can't… I can't choose between my daughter and my fiancé!"
"Well that's a pity. Because if you don't choose, I'll simply throw you out, have him killed and raise Dominique as my own daughter," Vincent said coldly. Christine stared at him.
"Please, don't do this."
"Give me a reason why I shouldn't," Vincent said. No longer was he simply an irritating fool, someone who would just grate on her nerves. Somehow he had become dangerous. Christine didn't know when or how, but she knew that he was. "I'm waiting, Miss Daae. Make your choice," Vincent said finally. Christine looked from him to Erik, to Dominique. Erik touched her cheek.
"Take her, Christine. Take her and leave."
"I'm sorry, Erik…" she whispered, her voice breaking as tears welled up. Erik shook his head.
"Take her now. Now!"
Christine fell towards Dominique, snatching her from the Viscount. The Viscount laughed harshly and pushed her out, slamming the cellar door closed behind him. The last thing Christine saw was the still figure of Erik standing in the shadows, his face distorted with pain.
It was then that she made a decision. Some might have thought it brave, other stupid, others insane. But Christine didn't know about any of that. She just knew that is was what she had to do. "Wait," she whispered. The Viscount stopped and looked at her.
How funny, that history would repeat itself, she thought. But she wasn't standing on a stage, surrounded by dancers and singers. She stood in a narrow corridor, holding her daughter and looking at the brother of the man who had almost destroyed her. "I'll give you a choice."
"I beg your pardon?"
"Let Erik and Dominique leave and I will stay."
He stared at her. "What?"
"Let them leave, and promise not to bother them again, and I will stay here with you. I'll give you anything you want. If you let them go." Vincent seemed thoroughly confused.
"Why would you do that?"
"Because they mean more to me than my own life. If you had an ounce of compassion, you'd understand that," Christine spat.
Vincent started to laugh. Christine stared at him. He laughed hard and wiped his eyes. "Miss Daae, do you really think that I am a fool?"
"I think you're a man who knows a bargain."
"If I let that monster go, he will kill me. I'm well aware of that. So why should I release him?"
Christine looked at him and then smiled slightly. "Because if you do, I will give you everything. And I know that tempts you."
His eyes wandered again. Christine didn't move. Men could be so weak. Eventually he met her eyes again. "I will have someone escort him and your daughter to the city boundaries. If I find him in the city again, he will be killed. Is that clear?"
"Perfectly so," Christine said calmly. She looked down at Dominique and knelt to look her in the face.
"Dominique, my darling, you and Papa are going home."
"Mama come?"
Christine stroked her soft hair and sighed.
"No, Little One. Mama is going to stay here." Dominique blinked, confused. That didn't make sense. Why would Mama stay with the bad man? But Mama had already stood and was speaking crossly with the bad man.
He wasn't allowed to see her. He and Dominique were thrust into a carriage and driven to the edge of the city where they were unceremoniously thrown out. He didn't catch a glimpse of her.
Erik looked down as Dominique tugged his hand. "Papa?"
"Yes?"
"Want Mama."
"I know you do. But we can't see her yet," Erik said.
Christine sat in her room, staring out of the window. It was starting to rain. The door opened and Vincent looked at her. She didn't move from her seat on the windowsill.
"They are free."
She didn't reply. Vincent looked at her and said, "My brother-"
"You brother was a cruel, wretched bastard and you are an insignificant worm. I loathe you with every part of me and you will never touch me without my consent!" Christine spat, seething with anger. Vincent merely looked at her.
"I don't believe I ever needed to ask for your consent, Christine."
No more 'Miss Daae'. Now it was Christine. She turned away to look out of the window. Vincent considered her. He had to admit, his brother had good taste. He himself had known a great many women, more than William. He was far more relaxed than his brother had been. William had always been one for rules, for conduct.
But this woman had reduced him to insanity. Vincent had witnessed his brother's descent into madness. How he would return from the Opera House in a furious temper, how he would return the next day with an air of determination, how he would be smug and irate, how he had returned after Masquerade Ball with that delicate mask. How he would pour over the mask for hours, simply thinking. How he wasted so much money searching for a chorus girl.
Vincent could not imagine what sort of woman could reduce a man of that stature to the wreck that William had become. But he was close to understanding, simply by being in the same room as her. He looked at her closely, but she kept her gaze on the black clouds.
"Do you know what I want from you, Christine?"
"You want what all men with a few coins want," she replied coldly. Vincent didn't smile.
"I will give you tonight. I will let you be alone tonight, if you do one thing for me."
She turned her gaze to him. A man could drown in those eyes, Vincent thought. "What do you want?" she asked.
"I want you to sing. I don't care what. I just want to hear the voice that destroyed my brother."
She turned and looked out of the window again. For some time she remained silent. And then her lips parted.
You were once my one companion
You were all that mattered
You were once my friend and lover
Then my world was shattered
Wishing you were somehow here again
Wishing you were somehow near
Sometimes it seemed
If I dreamed
Somehow you would be here
Wishing I could hear your voice again
Knowing that I never would
Dreaming of you helped me to do
All that you dreamed I could
It was a simple song. One she had written when she was at the Opera Populaire, when she believed Erik was dead, when she had been pregnant with Dominique. She closed her eyes and sighed slightly.
Vincent listened and it was then that he knew. He knew why she had enraptured William. That voice… it was perfect. Pure, with a wonderfully sweet clarity, the kind of sound that angels would make.
"Is that enough? You say that I destroyed your brother. And now you have destroyed me. Is that enough?" she asked quietly.
"It will be enough tomorrow night," he told her sharply, turning and shutting the door behind him. Christine stared after him and then looked back out of the window.
Vincent paced his study, the fire casting a flickering light across the room.
"My god, William. I can understand now," he murmured. A glass of whiskey stood on the table and he swallowed it whole. He gave a slight shudder as the liquid burned its way down to his stomach.
He burned for her. He wanted to go to her and take her without hesitation. He wanted to achieve what his brother never could.
But he would wait. He would for tomorrow night. And then he would claim her as his own. Vincent smirked as he sat down by the fire.
"What do you think of that, William? It looks like I'm going to do what you couldn't," he said to the fire. It simply flickered in reply.
A/n: I know, it's taken a while. But here it is! And I'll try and get staretd on the next chapter soon. On the positive side, my head hasn't exploded due to school yet! Lol. Please leave a review and tell me what you think.