A/N: Hey! Sorry it took so long to update. I have been adjusting to second semester and no one has been reviewing. That's depressing. Ah, well. On with the story…

Chapter Five: Betrayed

Raoul looked in the mirror and sighed at his reflection. His dark brown hair had been pulled back into a ponytail with a navy blue—silk—ribbon. He wore a billowy white shirt with a navy wool coat covering most of it. And dark breeches complete with sword buckled onto his belt.

He was tired, yet thinking of Christine gave him love-surging energy. He walked out of the room, his shoes slicking against the creaky wood floor. When he was finally out of the hotel, Elegance as it was called, he looked for Miles, the stable boy. The slim young man was holding Firebolt, a fire red stallion with a renowned temper, and was acting as if he were holding flowers. He had blond hair and green eyes. He walked up, Firebolt prancing, to greet Raoul when he saw him.

"Here you are, sir. Firebolt all tacked and ready for your search…er, ride." Miles said, a smile never leaving his face.

"Thank you, my boy." Raoul thanked him and flicked a copper in his direction, then simply forgot about him.

He searched for Sergeant Cain, who had agreed to lend him ten men in the hopes of locating the Phantom. After fifteen or so minutes of waiting, Cain and the men appeared armed quite solidly. They had obviously remembered their last meeting with the Phantom of the Opera.

Smart of them, Raoul thought. But they don't stand a chance. Only Christine could outsmart him, and even for her it would take considerate effort.

"Good morning, Vicomte de Chagney," Cain rumbled. "We are here, as agreed, so, lead on."

Raoul almost—almost mind—smirked. The man was much to forward with things, but it apparently did him well in his job, but it didn't help Raoul much. He waved his had toward the Opera Populaire across the street and Cain, riding a fine white stallion and the other men riding simple yet strong brown stallions, followed obediently.

Men muttered behind him and Raoul caught a few words, "….insane Cain is makin' us chase him again…"

Raoul blocked their voices from his mind, eavesdropping was not something he did and that would not change anytime soon if he could help it. He concentrated on the task at hand: To rescue Christine. Catching the Phantom as well would simply be an added bonus. Christine first, then the Opera Ghost.

When his 'escort' arrived at the Opera doors Raoul got off and let Firebolt's reins drop. He walked in wandering through the filled hallways toward Andre's office. When he finally saw the delicately carved oak door, he was very sick of pushing people out of the way. He knocked softly.

"Come in," Andre shouted, knowing it was noisy outside.

Raoul opened the door and shut it behind him.

"Andre, Cain and I are here to begin our search of your Opera. I just wanted you to know."

Andre sighed, his fingers tapping his desk rhythmically, "Must you search us? I told you the Phantom left. All that was left was broken mirrors."

Raoul smirked, "He is there, Andre. I know he is."

Andre waved his hands, "Go ahead, Vicomte de Chagney."

Raoul left the room, his smirk still plastered to his face. Cain was outside pacing, which he stopped when he finally noticed Raoul.

Cain was a stocky man. With black hair and grey eyes he looked to Raoul that would have betrayed friends for money or power. Raoul hated men like that. No sense of honor, men those men.

"Well?" Cain asked, leaning forward. His green uniform wrinkled, his tan hands rubbing his pistol.

Raoul looked down at him, a sign of Cain's lowly position, "What he said would have made no difference. We already had permission form the mayor."

Cain shrugged and went back to get the men who had stayed outside. Raoul walked through the back stage area toward the dressing room hallway.

When he got to Christine's, Raoul opened the door with mocking reverence. The lights were on, and there was no sign of a struggle or forced entrance. Hmmm, Raoul pondered. So Christine came here. Candles, which contributed to the light was very melted and close to burning out.

A long time ago, maybe yesterday,Raoul puzzled through the rest of the room, looking for a red—blood red—rose with a black ribbon tied securely around the thorny stem. He found none. He scavenged the floor for some king of clue, when a knock came at the door.

Cain stepped in, and seeing Raoul kneeling, his grey eyes gleamed, "Here they are. We remember the entrance to the dungeon, if you'll follow us, monsieur."

Raoul almost chocked with laughter, lead they would, to protect him from any of the Phantom's tricks. He wasn't going to fall for any of those, no again.

"Lead on, Cain. Take me to my bride." Raoul said as calmly as he could, smothering his laughter.

Cain and his ten men, all in green, marched towards the stage. The hole in which the fake fire had been placed was still there, gaping in the middle of the stage, still charred by the fire.

One by one men dropped in to the hole and son Raoul was left standing—staring—by himself.

"Here I come," Raoul whispered.

xXxXx

Christine sat in the room Erik had dedicated to her. Masquerade Room, she thought silently. Then shook her head, hoping that would bring back her train of thought. It worked. So, Raoul had not kept his part of the deal. Ah well, he was here now and he wasn't going to leave.

Outside the room, voices echoed on the walls: Erik and Meg. They were discussing ways Meg and herself could get away.

She had been thinking of the same things, except she did not know the Opera's secrets, so she literally could not help at all. She slumped disappointed that she was so useless.

Muscular arms wrapped themselves around her. She leaned back onto Erik's chest, her eyes fluttering with utter bliss. She grabbed onto him with her own hands.

"Erik………I love….." She began.

Meg ran into the room, "Erik, Christine, men are coming. We better go quickly."

Erik grabbed her hand and forcefully pulled her in front of a broken mirror. Shards of the reflector glass dug into her feet. Meg came over and pulled back the red drape that had been hanging in front of it. There was a tunnel.

"This will lead you out of the Opera. Behind it in fact," Erik said as though he was somewhere else, his hand pointed into it. "Go!" He walked away without another word.

Meg went in after shrugging at Christine. Christine stood there for a moment, undecided. Her mouth set in a line of firm determination, she walked after Erik. He stood, looking at the watery entrance.

"Erik……" Christine started, then trailed off, wanting his complete attention.

"He turned around his eyes already filled with anger, "Why are you—"

Christine cut him off, "If you don't go, I don't. We're in this together, remember?"

He stared at her for a minute, then walked toward the tunnel, he stepped into it and continued down it. He did not look back.

Christine pulled the drape down and ran to find paper and a quill and began to write to Erik. He would come back, she knew he would.

Dear Erik,

I am truly sorry. It was the only way to stop your 'game of death'.

I love you too much for you to die on my fighting with Raoul.

Please be patient. I will come as soon as I can.

Love Always,

Christine Daae

When finished she placed it into the swan bed and nearly jumped into the water leading out of Erik's domain.

"HELP! HELP! He's gone! But he might come back! Please hurry!" Christine yelled wading toward the sound of the searchers.

When she turned the bend, Raoul was there, holding a torch.

"Christine….Are you alright? Where is he?" Raoul asked so many questions, Christine could only answer a few.

"I don't know, and yes, I'm fine. No, he didn't hurt me. Simply took me away. Please let's go to the hotel."

Raoul and his escort turned around heading back the way they had come. Raoul smothered her with so many kisses; Christine swore she could have thrown up on him. However, she kept her face at the happy emotion. He was watching her much too closely to show her true feelings.

"I love you, Christine." Raoul whispered more than once.

Christine was tempted to grimace each time, but simply said, "And I you."

xXxXx

Erik took his ear away from the red drape. His eyes were filled with rage and hate. She had lied! She would pay. He nearly threw the drape off of the mirror in his anger and flew into the Masquerade Room, picking up his cape. He did not notice the slip of paper in the midst of the deep red.

As he was following after Meg, he groaned in momentary despair, "Betrayed. Betrayed again. Why Christine?"