A/N: I am not sure how to start this. Erik told me he spoke for Phoenix in the last chapter. I told him that I wanted to do it this chapter. My dear friend Phoenix has decided to split this chapter. She knows how much you, the audience, love cliffhangers. She hopes that you will not shun her for doing this. The chapter is rather long and she did not want it to feel like you were reading forever. Please enjoy this chapter. We (Erik, Phoenix, and I) long to hear what you think. Read and review as always. I always read as do many of the other patrons of the opera house. The curtain rises on our story…

With much love,

Angelina

P.S. On a side note, I would like to extend the invitation for you all to read Phoenix's story on FictionPress. It is called 'The Lonely Road We Have Taken'. Read and review as always. I assure you, that you will not be disappointed with it. Her name is the same on there as well: PhoenixScribe.

Chapter 37 – Cross the Bridge of Fire: Part I

There were no stage hands, no conductor, no music… Angelina felt naked standing on the wooden floor. The light flickered around her. She felt alone and afraid. Fear continued to rise inside of her and it would not be contained. She had promised Arnaud that if anything went wrong that she would tell him immediately.

"Good morning, Angelina…"

Angelina swallowed and watched as Mikhail Vasilev walked down the aisle and sat in the front row.

"You will dance for me this morning."

"Yes, Monsieur."

"There will be no music. Just you and you alone."

"I understand."

…I will find a way to protect you.

She smiled slightly, recalling Erik's statement. Looking toward the rafters, all she saw was darkness. There was no sign of Erik.

"Dance, Angelina."

Looking out at Mikhail one last time, Angelina began her dance to only the music inside of her mind. She ignored the fact that Mikhail was sitting out in the audience. Erik was with her – always. It made her performance go that much smoother.

Nothing around her seemed to matter. Nor the fact that Mikhail had begun to move from the front row and up to the stage. Angelina finished her dance and spun into his arms.

"Monsieur!"

"It was superb, Angelina."

"Thank you, Monsieur."

"Please, call me Mikhail."

He continued to hold onto her arms. Angelina tried to break from his grasp but he was too strong for her tiny frame.

"You are a sight, Angelina. I am sure you have been told this a thousand times."

"Only by one man, Monsieur."

"You have a suitor?"

"A fiancé."

Mikhail did not see that coming. Gently letting her go, he channeled his rage. Angelina watched as his expressions changed from caring to anger.

"A fiancé?"

"Yes, Monsieur."

"And he is a dancer?"

Would she lie to save herself? "No, Monsieur."

Mikhail's eyes lit up with promise. He continued toward Angelina, forcing her against a wall. Large hands rested on either side of her.

They are larger then Erik's…

"So he is not in Paris?"

"I did not say that, Monsieur."

"Where is he, Angelina?"

Her throat seemed to close. She could not speak or find the words. Angelina wanted to shout that Erik was just behind the curtain watching the both of them. But she could not do it.

Angelina cringed as one of Mikhail's hands slowly caressed her bare arm.

"It is ashame that a beautiful young girl like you could belong to someone."

"And I do, Monsieur."

"I could remedy that very quickly."

Angelina's breath caught as he trailed a finger down her cheek.

"I am afraid, Monsieur, that you are mistaken."

"I will not be denied, Angelina."

"You must. I cannot be what you wish me to be."

The slap of his hand caused Angelina to fall to the wooden floor. Tears burned in her eyes as her hand instinctively went to her cheek. She slowly looked up as Mikhail hovered over her.

"You will be what I want you to be. I am funding your opera with my money. I will get my just reward."

Before Mikhail could put his hand on her again, a black leather gloved hand grasped his wrist. Angelina's eyes went wide.

"Erik?"

Mikhail's head slowly turned and saw a tall figure standing there. He nearly laughed as he saw the mask upon Erik's face. "What is this? Some sort of joke?"

"I assure you, Monsieur, that I am no joke." Erik looked toward Angelina. "Are you alright?"

"I have been better."

"Rise."

Angelina slowly rose to her feet. Erik slowly let go of Mikhail's arm as the large man began to rub where Erik had squeezed. Both men looked toward Angelina.

"Who is this, Angelina?" The fury inside of Mikhail was growing. The man in the white mask was about his size. It would be a fair fight.

Angelina smiled brighter then the sun. "My guardian angel."

Although there was happiness slowly building inside of Erik, he could not show it. "Go to my home, Angelina. I will be there shortly."

"But…"

"Go. I assure you everything will be alright."

Angelina hesitated but stepped toward the safe haven of Erik's home. Before completely going into the darkness, she looked back one more time and saw Erik's eyes. Something burned behind them. Angelina wanted to know what it was but knew that it would not be something good.

Erik waited another moment as Angelina was swallowed by the darkness. He watched as Vasilev turned to him. The bulky frame of the man was somewhat menacing but nothing that Erik could not take care of. The smile made him cringe. The Russian's teeth were yellow and cracked. The thought of him near Angelina made his blood boil.

They began to circle each other – as if it was a dance of death. The Russian laughed and it echoed throughout the opera house.

"So you are the young girl's suitor."

Erik remained silent. He would not give him any sort of leverage.

"A man in a mask. Impressive." The laughter came from low inside of him. He wanted to make it sound menacing. "You are no match for me."

Stripping his cape, Erik bowed in front of Vasilev. Slightly raising his head, Erik's smile was sly. "Let us be gentlemen about this, shall we?"