We have a special appearance in this chapter.
Also, there were some characters mentioned in the beginning of the story. I want you to make sure you keep them in mind!
Enjoy...
Nico
She was surrounded by clouds.
Silken clouds that clung to her form at every angle.
She opened her eyes slowly.
The clouds were black.
And not clouds at all actually…they were pillows and sheets, all made of the same soft satin.
Christine closed her eyes for a moment, too comfortable and warm to allow herself to re-enter reality.
Suddenly a violent eruption of several piano keys being compressed at the same time filled her ears.
It was a sound of frustration…of anger…of hurt
Of Erik.
Christine slowly slid from the large swan bed she had been laying in…the same swan bed Erik had first brought her to when she had become completely overwhelmed by her experiences in his lair and fainted.
Feeling an incredible sense that she was reenacting that same moment in her life, she padded slowly towards the sound of the piano.
Erik must have removed her clothing at some point in the evening, Christine realized, her cheeks burning red as she glanced down at the long white nightshift she now donned…it was simple yet lovely…obviously made for a woman who was very close to her own size.
She tried not to think about the woman who might have once worn the thin satin gown she was currently traipsing across the marble floors of the room in which she had woken up.
Quietly, Christine followed the sound of the piano, taking in her surroundings as she traveled.
Dark, heavy curtains covered tall windows that, at one point, must have allowed sunlight to streak across the highly polished interior of what Christine now realized was a mansion.
Everything was perfectly in place; portraits of famous composers hung evenly…there was not a speck of dust to be found.
Erik was, apparently, a neat freak.
Finally, after passing room after empty, gloomy room, Christine approached the sound.
The door to the room that contained the somber notes emitting from the piano was wide open. The crackling of a fire could be heard; the flickering of the flames seen.
Silently, Christine approached the door, peeking in unseen.
He was there.
His back was to her as his fingers worked the ivory keys of the piano, pausing every once in a while to scribble a note, or to slam his hand down when an errant note was struck.
Christine leaned against the doorframe, silently observing the man who had just saved her life.
She watched as his body moved with the melody…as his head tipped back in a sensual nod to his own talent. His back, which was covered in a thin white shirt flexed and strained with the motion of his hands and arms. His hair was askew, looking longer and thicker as it had escaped its combed refinement during his musical interlude.
Christine sighed quietly, despite her feelings of fear of Erik…her heart aching to walk behind him…place her hands on his shoulders…to feel him…
"It isn't polite to stare."
The female voice from behind Christine made her jump.
She turned around to see a pretty woman of about her own age…certainly no more than 21 or 22. She was dressed in jeans and a pale yellow shirt, neatly tucked in.
She was a blaze of modernity in a place that contained absolutely nothing modern.
"Who are you?" Christine asked, completely surprised by the presence of another person within the walls of Erik's home.
The woman smiled, looking at Christine for long enough to make her uncomfortable, and then gesturing for Christine to come away from Erik's music room, lest he hear them.
Christine followed the woman away from the door.
"I'm Lauren Derey," the woman introduced herself, extending a slender hand for Christine to shake. "I work for Erik," she clarified.
"Do you live here?" Christine asked.
Lauren nodded. "For the past year or so," she clarified. "I was originally working at the Paris Opera House when Erik approached me looking for a full-time housekeeper." She shrugged. "The pay was great and room and board were included…I couldn't pass it up."
"So, you know Erik well then," Christine pried, inexplicably jealous of the woman standing before her.
Lauren laughed. "I suppose," she admitted. "Besides his accountant, I think I may be the only person he actually speaks to."
Christine nodded.
"I trust you slept well?" Lauren asked, changing the subject which was obviously making the new house guest uncomfortable. "I hope you don't mind, but I took the liberty of changing you into something a little less…wet," she explained, gesturing to the nightgown Christine still wore.
"Oh," Christine said, blushing. "For a moment I thought he…I thought…"
"Erik is a lot of things, but he's modest when it comes to women," Lauren said tactfully. She took a step back and looked at Christine. "You seem to be about my size…let me see if I can find you something to change into."
"Thank you," Christine said earnestly, liking the woman despite her close proximity to Erik. "I really appreciate it. Everyone at the Opera House already hates me…I can't imagine the rumors that would begin to fly if I returned wearing a nightgown."
Lauren's eyebrows raised. "I was under the impression you'd be staying with us for a while," she said.
"Oh, is that…is that was he said?" Christine asked.
Lauren nodded.
Christine felt a flush of warmth and importance. "I'd be lying if I said I wasn't intrigued by this place…or if I said I didn't want to stay…but…the truth is…" Christine paused, not really knowing how to explain to Lauren that she and Erik had a history that went back more than a century.
Lauren placed a comforting hand on Christine's sleeve. "You don't need to explain," she said. "I understand."
Christine looked at the woman's hand for a moment, then to her eyes.
There was something there, something she recognized.
Startled, Christine took a step backwards, narrowing her eyes to further inspect Lauren.
The housekeeper stood still, smiling broadly as Christine looked over the small woman's blond hair…deep brown eyes…smooth honey skin…
Shock coursed through Christine.
"Dear God," she said, placing a hand to her mouth.
"It took you long enough," Lauren said, still smiling.
"This can't be!" Christine gasped, her voice raised slightly.
"I see you've met Lauren." The deep voice came from the music room doorway, where Erik stood, his arms crossed over his chest.
Christine stared at him, her face white.
"Or perhaps you remember her by her former identity," Erik continued, walking closer to the women.
A tear escaped Christine's eye. She moved closer to Lauren, placing a cold hand on the woman's face and then pulling her into a tight embrace.
"Meg," Christine sobbed. "I thought I'd never see you again."
