Sorry for the delay in the update. I'm trying to find the story once again. I have been so busy with other stories that I lost track of this one. I hope to find the balance again so hopefully I'll have a few more chapters done. There have been doubts, made by me, that this wasn't as good as it should be. Please leave me feedback and let me know what you think. Thanks! Thanks to the Aria Database for the lyrics to Carmen. They are not mine.

Chapter 7 – The Man in Black

Thunder crashed end echoed throughout the study. It did not disturb the music that vibrated the cream-colored walls. Fingers danced over the ivory keys of the old piano with passion and fire. They had a purpose – a need to fulfill.

Erik smiled as he watched Angelina stand near the piano with her eyes closed. The music flowed through her as it once did so many years ago. Her fingers tapped on the glossy black wood to the rhythm of the melody he played. She knew the tune well. It was only eighteen years ago that she had sung the song in Paris and brought the city to its knees.

"Let's see…I'll try a turn." Her voice was as if the heavens opened above them. "Diamond, spade…death! I read it well…me first. Then him…for both all death."

Erik knew that Angelina had been holding back. Her family had come first – her voice second. It had been years since she had been on a stage. It had taken much convincing on his part to have her audition for Carmen which was to be performed in several weeks time. The auditions were to be held tomorrow and he would make sure she was well prepared.

"In vain in order to avoid harsh remarks…in vain you shuffle…" She paused, allowing her eyes to open and focus on Erik. "That settles nothing; the cards…are sincere and won't lie!"

A knock at the door was the first distraction they had all day. Erik got up and peered out the window, seeing no one standing in the doorway.

"Let me go see who it is."

Something inside of him was stirring. Erik remembered the note from a few nights prior. The feelings had not subsided but had grown in intensity since he had seen that single word printed on the small parchment: revenge.

Grasping Angelina's arm, he shook his head. "I will get it."

"Erik, it is broad daylight. I will answer the door."

She broke from his grasp and walked down the stairs. The feelings of dread and fear were quickly welling up inside of him. He rushed down the stairs and into the small room behind the parlor. Erik peered from behind the doorway and saw Angelina open the large white door. A gold knocker sat right below the small windows bearing the name 'Alcott'.

"Can I help you?"

"Yes, I hope you can," said a man with an English accent. "I am looking for one Erik Alcott."

"I am afraid he is unavailable."

"Would you be Ms. Alcott?"

Angelina stood there for a moment, just looking at the man standing in the doorway. It was unusual for a man of his stature to be wearing all black. His suit, his tie, even his dress shirt was black. It was as if the man was in mourning. His reading glasses made him seem distinguished. However, Angelina knew that there was something more to him than that.

"Yes, I am," she simply replied.

"May I have a few words with you?"

"Of course."

Erik sighed and watched as Angelina let the man in black step inside their home. She gently closed the door behind him and led him to the parlor. Erik quickly moved into the small room and looked through a hole in the wall. He watched as Angelina and the man in black sat across from each other.

Angelina watched the man with curious eyes. "How can I be of service?"

"I am so rude. Please let me introduce myself. I am Francois Deveau."

She smirked. "Your English accent led me to believe you were from London or Wales. I was mistaken."

"I was born in Paris, Ms. Alcott. I have traveled for many years before finally settling down."

"I see." Angelina smiled and leaned back in her chair. She looked toward the mirror hanging on the opposite wall from where she sat. Angelina knew what lied behind it. "I know a great deal about traveling."

"So I have heard."

Erik watched Angelina's expressions through the hole in the wall. The mirror in the parlor covered it nicely. He had made sure that the shop maker made the mirror specifically to his specifications. If he could not be in the room with his family, he would watch over them to make sure they were safe.

How had Deveau known they had traveled? Did he know Deveau years ago? Or was he linked to the night only a few days prior?

"I am sorry. How does my husband know you?"

"He does not know me, Ms. Alcott. He knows the person I work for."

Angelina looked at him bewildered. "I do not understand."

Pulling papers from his satchel, he laid them out on the table in front of Angelina. Francois looked at her as she looked down at the papers. "Do you know of your husband's time in Persia?"

Erik's eyes widened as he heard the word echo in his mind.

Persia…

He had not thought of Persia in many years. What had happened there he wished to have stayed there. The history…the events that had happened there had never been uttered between him and Angelina. It was a past he did not want to relive.

"Did you say Persia?"

Francois merely nodded. "He spent quite some time there. Almost ten years if I remember right."

"You knew him then?"

"As I have said before, I have never met your husband. My employer has."

"And what does your employer want with my husband?"

"She wishes for certain…debts to be repaid."

Angelina began to fear the worst. She had thought she knew everything of Erik's past. It was hard enough to begin to understand the past with her father, mother, and Erik. Now there was a past in Persia she could not begin to fathom. Who was this woman in search of Erik? And what debts had to be paid?

"Does he owe her money?"

Francois's laughter filled the parlor. It made her blood run cold and her palms sweat. Whatever debt had to be repaid, it was not going to be something she was looking forward to.

"Ms. Alcott, is your husband at home?"

"As I have told you before, Mr. Deveau, my husband is tending to other matters. If you cannot discuss with me what the problem is, then I suggest you wait for another time."

Francois rose from his seat and looked down at Angelina. "It is most unfortunate that he is not at home." He started gathering the papers that were strewn about the table. "I wish you good luck in your audition tomorrow afternoon."

Angelina slowly rose from her chair – the hairs on the back of her neck standing on end. "How do you know of my audition?"

"My employer makes sure she knows of the actions of everyone in your home. Right now your daughter is with Mr. Cassell. I know of the hatred your husband bears toward him. It is unfortunate. The boy is a fine match for your daughter."

"Now, listen here…," Angelina began to state with a loud roar.

"You do not need to raise your voice to me, Ms. Alcott. Your family is well watched. It is in…safe hands." He smiled as he moved to the doorway. "I will return in several days time. Please tell your husband that I wish to see him." There was a pause – a deafening silence. "I will see myself out."

Angelina waited in silent terror as she heard the front door close shut. Her sky blue eyes glanced over to see Erik standing in the doorway. Her breathing was labored – her chest heaving. Fear consumed her.

"Angelina…"

"Our family is being watched. They know where Elizabeth is right now as we speak. They know I will audition for Carmen tomorrow. They know we travel from port to port. They know who we are. The name Alcott was merely a formality for him."

"Please, listen to me…," he pleaded.

"Persia, Erik. I want to know all about Persia and I want to know this instant."