a/n I apologize again for the meanness of last chapter. Something got stuck up my butt and it took quite a while to get rid of it (I just started school). I really do love all of you. If you're not in the mood for another cliffie, DO NOT read this chapter!

And now, without further ado, THE WHORES!

CHAPTER 8—YOU DECEIVED ME

Five months into her illicit relationship with Erik, he told her that he had run across some interesting information on a recent trip to Vienna. Raoul's business in Austria at the Vienna Opera was not exactly what it seemed. As Raoul was the patron to that house, Erik had the opportunity to keep a close eye on him when he was in Vienna, and he soon found out that Raoul had not actually been visiting brothels.

"Just a young performer," he informed Christine over dinner one night at Eva's. "You may know her; I believe her name is Sonia."

Christine dropped her fork. "Sonia Moretti?" To say she was shocked was an understatement. She did know Sonia—had met her when the young woman had taken a break from the opera several weeks ago. Having become ill, the doctor had informed her that her best chance at a speedy recovery would be a trip to the country. Raoul had offered to give her a place to stay, and Sonia had stayed in the house they had purchased several miles from Eva's home. Sonia had eaten at her table, bathed under her room, slept down the hall from Christine and Raoul's bedchamber. Now that she thought back, Christine had thought it odd that, upon returning from visits to see Eva and Erik, Raoul had seemed extremely buoyant and Sonia had looked flushed.

"I can't believe him," she said, feeling herself begin to shake. "I wonder if they did it in our bed. It wouldn't surprise me."

"Who is she?" Eva asked.

"You remember her," Erik said. "That little blonde thing that came to stay a while back. The 'most up and coming performer' in the house." He took a bite of his steak. "Sonia Moretti, diva and mistress." He swallowed and said, "Has a nice ring to it."

Christine giggled at this. She had to admit, she was no better than Raoul. At least twice a week when he was home, she would leave to spend time alone with Erik if he was staying with Eva and Nadir, who had by now completely moved in. When Erik was in Vienna, she spent time with Eva, who seemed to be hinting that there was more going on between her and Nadir than met the eye. She had flatly admitted to raucous love making and something called "kama sutra" when Christine had teased her, and now it seemed that it would not be long before the two announced their formal engagement.

At the moment, Raoul was again in Vienna, both escorting Sonia back and taking care of a small crisis that had arisen involving several stage hands striking for lack of pay. Christine had dismissed the servants under vow of silence and with full pay for the next week, so that she could stay at Eva's without returning home. She had done this before—when Raoul left, so did she. He was ignorant, though, of the latter fact.

At that moment, there was a knock on the door and Corinne entered, holding out a letter to Erik.

"Express for you, Count Dusek."

A snort of laughter escaped from Christine, as it always did when someone called Erik by his title. The fact that the opera ghost was in fact a wealthy count, and one still respected in his native Czechoslovakia, never ceased to amuse her. The thought brought a question to mind.

"Eva, do you even own anything in Czechoslovakia?"

Her friend looked up from the letter Corinne had handed her. "Erik owns our parents house," she said.

"I'm having it demolished," he said flatly. His eyes scanned the letter in his hand and he set it down in disgust. "It seems that our Sonia is no longer of any importance after all," he said. "I've been informed that your husband has broken off their relationship and that the young lady is quite distressed. Also that…" His eyes grew large. "He's coming back… early?"

If it was possible for time to actually come to a complete halt, it did just then. None of the moved, spoke, or even seemed to breathe. "How early?" Christine asked slowly.

Nadir looked at the postmark on the envelope, then to the letter in Erik's hands. "He should…" The two men looked at each other, horrified. "He could be back right now."

Perfectly on cue, the doorbell rang. Before Corinne could rush from the room, Christine heard the enormous door creak open and Raoul's voice demand, "Where's Christine?"

"Oh, my God," Eva whispered, looking panicked. They could hear Raoul's footsteps coming closer. She looked at Erik, and Christine knew that she was petrified. "Erik, hide."

Without a word, Erik raced from the room toward a semi-hidden door on the opposite side of the room. Nadir grabbed the letter from the table and Eva quickly hid Erik's plate under the table. It landed on the floor with a thunk just before the door burst open and Raoul entered, looking furious.

"Where have you been?" he fumed. "I return home early to see you and there's not a servant in the house, you're gone, not a soul around can tell me where you've gone." Storming across the room toward her, he grasped her arm. "What are you doing here?"

Christine cringed and tried to tear her arm away. She was not sure that Erik had gone, and knew that there was a small vent to see through if he had stayed outside the door. "Let go, Raoul," she said. "You're hurting me."

"Tell me what you're doing here!" he said angrily, shaking her. Something was wrong, Christine though. He had never behaved like this.

She pulled again at her arm, which felt like it was bruising. "Let go of me!"

From the corner in which he had been standing quietly, Nadir stepped toward Raoul and forcefully pulled the younger man backward. Not having seen Nadir come up from the side, Raoul stumbled backward, and Christine scampered toward Eva, who clutched Christine with protective arms.

Eva glared at Raoul with a fury Christine had never seen before. "Raoul, what's gotten in to you?" she said furiously. "She came to stay here because she wanted company. It's you who should be scorned. You're the one who constantly leaves her alone. Can you blame her for wanting a friend?"

At her forceful words, Raoul seemed to come to his senses. His face fell and he looked discouraged. "I'm sorry," he said pathetically. "I just… I couldn't find you, that's all."

Squeezing Eva's hand, Christine stepped toward Raoul. She looked into his face for a moment, then, deciding he was sincerely sorry, turned to Eva. "Thank you, Eva. I'll send someone along for my things later."

She turned and stormed from the room. Climbing haphazardly into the carriage that waited outside, she blew out a furious sigh and glared at Raoul as he climbed in after her. He opened his mouth to speak, but she interrupted him.

"Don't you ever," she hissed, "ever, do that to me again." As he tried to move to sit beside her, she moved to sit on the other side of the cab. "If you touch me like that again, embarrass me like that, I will leave you without a moment's hesitation."

"You would never leave me, Christine," said Raoul, but his voice was hesitant.

Her voice softer but no less intense, Christine looked him directly in the eye and said, "You don't know what I would do if you pushed me far enough, Raoul de Chagny."

It had been a month since Raoul had returned from Vienna, and he seemed to be in no hurry to return. While it was nice to see her husband for a change, Christine found that there were now small nitpicky things about him that made him crazy. When Christine woke up in the morning after making love, she was used to having someone next to her, wrapped around her from behind. By the time Christine rose, however, Raoul would have left for breakfast without waking her. He was more loving now than he had been throughout their marriage, however, more like he had been back at the opera house. Still, though, he lacked the passion that Erik emanated in every fiber of his being. Christine found herself longing to spend more time with Erik than she did her husband. She continued to feel guilty until Raoul announced that he would be leaving in a few months for a longer time than he ever had before.

"Six months?" she exclaimed when he told her how long. "You don't mean weeks, you mean months?"

"Yes, Christine, there's going to be a great deal of renovation going on, and since I'm paying for it, I'd like to be there." When he never offered her the option of going with him, the guilt she felt over her relationship with Erik evaporated in an instant. "I'll still be here for a few months, though."

Christine stood up from the dinner table and left the room. She heard Raoul follow her, calling after her and asking where she was going. She did not answer, but saddled a horse and left to see Eva. If anyone would understand what she was talking about, it would be Eva.

Twenty minutes later, Christine cantered up to the house. She stopped a gardener in the front lawn to ask where Eva was.

"The Viscountess left for town with the daroga and young Master Jean some time ago," he said. "They're not expected back until sometime tomorrow."

Christine nearly burst into tears. No one was here. Erik had left to make an appearance in Vienna and to check on the apartment there and was not coming back until at least tomorrow. She thanked the gardener politely and turned to head back up the lane. She had begun to slowly return home, dejected, when she saw a black speck coming down the road toward her. Squinting, she tried to discern what it was. After a minute, she could just see an enormous black horse with a man in a black riding cloak riding atop it. It had to be Erik—there was no one else for miles that would have reason to come this way. She sped up, waving with one hand. At first, he did not seem to be able to see who she was. Then his face burst into a rare smile and he spurred his horse faster. Slowing to a halt as she neared him, she nearly fell off the horse as she reached out to embrace him.

"I missed you," she whispered. "I can't believe you're here already! Eva said you weren't coming until tomorrow."

Erik chuckled. "I can leave again if you'd like."

"Oh, don't!" She managed to maneuver herself onto the horse behind him. "Don't ever leave me again."

He turned his head to kiss her, and in a second she felt whole again. When he pulled away, they had started moving back toward the house. He grasped the reigns of her horse in his hands in addition to Caesar's, and rested a hand on hers, which she had wrapped around his waist. "How's your fop of a husband?" he asked.

Christine snorted in disgust. "He's going to leave in about four months to go to Vienna for—"

"Six months," he said, nodding. "The theater's renovating."

"That takes six months?"

Erik tensed. "Not exactly," he said slowly. "I've heard a rumor, Christine. I'm sure it's nothing more than just that, but…" He turned up the lane toward the house, shaking his head. "I don't want to upset you."

"Erik," Christine said slowly. "Tell me. Don't keep me in the dark. What did you hear?"

As he helped her down and handed the reigns of the horses to the stable boy, who had rushed to meet them, he said, "You remember when I told you about Sonia Moretti."

"Yes." Christine scowled as she linked her arm through Erik's. "He's not going back to her, is he?"

"Like you'd be one to talk if he did," he said with a small laugh. His face became serious again very quickly, though. "If my information is correct—"

"Which it always is."

"If it's correct," he said, "then Sonia Moretti's current absence from the opera house has nothing to do with her illness."

"If it did," Christine said darkly, "she'd be here, wouldn't she?"

Erik stopped walking suddenly, and Christine turned to him. Even in the twilight, she could see the hesitation on his face. "Christine," he said softly. "There's a rumor going about that—" He paused. "That is to say, my sources tell me that she came from a doctor looking upset several months ago. She'd been vomiting a great deal, and was concerned for her health. You know she has ulcers. It wasn't ulcers, though, Christine."

Her stomach was churning uncomfortably. "Erik," she said quietly. "What have you heard?"

"I paid her doctor for the information," he said gently. "He informed me that Sonia is expecting a child in several months, right around the time Raoul will arrive in Vienna. No one can tell me for sure if the child is his or not, but the circumstances are suspicious. For instance, it should only take three months to renovate the opera if things go on schedule."

"He's going to spend three months with her?" she burst out. "If he loves her enough to put a child in her, why doesn't he leave me?"

Erik turned away from her and walked toward the house, pulling her along. As the information Christine had been told sunk in, she began to shake. Erik turned to her, alarmed, as her knees buckled. He caught her before she hit the ground and carried her inside, taking her to the kitchen. He poured her a glass of water and she drank it slowly. When she finished, she reached out a hand for Erik, pulling him to her and pressing her lips to his again. He reached for the glass in her hand and set it down before hoisting her onto the table. She gasped when his lips found the sensitive spot behind her ear that only he knew of.

"I've missed you so much," he whispered. Kissing down her neck, he glanced at her. "Where's Eva?"

"Paris," Christine gasped.

Pushing up her skirt, Erik kissed her hard again on the lips. "I love you," he moaned as he slid into her.

It was over almost as quickly as it had begun, and Christine felt fully satisfied for the first time in over a month. She smiled up at him. "Thank you," she whispered, pressing his forehead to her lips.

"For what?"

"For that." She smiled. "You're amazing." Looking down at herself, she laughed. "Can you imagine if they decided to come back early?"

That rich laugh again. "We should take our business elsewhere."

"Upstairs?"

He looked suddenly thoughtful. "What about the library?"

"She has a library?"

"Yes." He kissed her forehead as he lifted her up. "With a fireplace."

By the time dark had fallen, Christine was lying on her back in front of a roaring fire while Erik jotted notes next to her. She had been dozing for some time and now opened her eyes, rolling on her stomach to look at him. "What are you writing?" she asked.

"Music," he said simply.

Christine rolled onto her back again. "What kind of music?"

He smiled at her. "It's for your range," he said.

Bursting into a brilliant smile, she leaned over to kiss him. "I—" She paused, then smiled. "I love you." She'd never said that before.

He smiled again and kissed her before she fell asleep. She awoke the next morning with Erik next to her again, their fingers twined together, and an odd feeling of nausea in her stomach. Something compelled her to run to the washroom, and she vomited into the toilet. Sitting up, she wiped her mouth on the back of her hand, confused. What was wrong? She hadn't eaten anything she shouldn't have. Perhaps it was just...

But no. She realized with a jolt that her menstrual cycle had never come. She was supposed to be on it— just finishing, actually. Instead, she was throwing up. A terrible thought came to her head. Could she...

She couldn't be. It was only the talk of Sonia getting to her. But still...

What if she was pregnant?

It would not be Raoul's. He made sure to use French letters to stop conception, saying he did not want children yet. There had been more than one occasion when, in a moment of heated passion like the one last night, she and Erik had forgotten to use them.

The bile that rose in her throat at that moment seemed to be the answer to all her questions.

a/n Again, I'm really sorry. I didn't mean to upset anyone, and I think I may have. I'll keep trying to pump this stuff out, but I do have English homework. Love you all soooooo much!