Prolly my last update of the day!

Not to be a review whore, but they really do keep me going! I'm so happy to see some of my favorite readers back!

Enjoy!

Nico

Christine had the overwhelming feeling that someone was watching her.

The Voice. It was here.

She kept her eyes tightly shut, fearing that if she opened them, revealing that she was awake, the voice would leave her once more.

Erik stared into Christine's room, his feet still planted firmly on the dank stones that basically epitomized the bowls of the Opera Populaire. How different their worlds were! Erik could not help but notice the stark difference in the passageway he stood in and the beautifully polished wood floors of Christine's living quarters.

Although he wanted to flee back into the security of his lair, Erik's feet disobeyed, soundlessly carrying him to the edge of Christine's bed.

Her breath was coming evenly, her eyes shut in dream.

It seemed she was asleep.

For a long moment, Erik allowed himself to simply drink her in with his eyes. Several times he had to stop himself from reaching out to brush an errant hair from her face. Almost unconsciously, he had begun to hum, all the while watching the steady rise and fall of her chest.

He was almost certain he heard her sigh in satisfaction.

Perhaps if he just allowed his fingers to trace her warm skin lightly…an almost non-existent touch…a touch that would have to last him for an eternity.

Erik watched in horror as his hand moved as if with a will of its own. He watched as it came down onto her face.

He watched as Christine turned to face him, her eyes opening and widening in an unmistakable impression of fear.

But instead of the scream Erik was certain was about to be released from the darkest regions of Christine's soul, there was silence, and the stare of the most beautiful brown eyes he had ever seen.

"Who are you?" She asked, her voice tight with fright, but warm with expectation.

Erik did not answer, afraid that his voice would shatter the complacency of Christine's reaction to him.

She sat up slowly, causing Erik to retreat slowly.

"No, don't go!" Christine said, suddenly emerging from her bed. Then, remembering her modesty, grabbed her long, red silk robe from the end of her bed, wrapping her slight frame as quickly as she possibly could.

She moved towards him, her eyes scanning his entire body, then finally coming to rest on the large white mask that almost entirely covered his face.

Her eyes were wide, liquid pools of curiosity. He watched as her hand came up…his breath caught in his throat in anticipation…and suddenly, she pinched him.

Erik jerked back in pain and surprise.

Christine gasped, equally surprised.

"You're real!" She exclaimed.

"Of course I'm real," Erik replied.

Christine's knees locked as the liquid velvet of his voice spread across her like a tongue.

And suddenly, the scream that Erik thought would never come, came.

Erik hadn't wanted to use the ether that he carried in a small vile within the pockets of his vest. But Christine had left him no choice!

He looked down at the limp body he held in his arms, wishing that she hadn't screamed.

He had moved with lightning speed, effectively silencing her after only a split second of the horrendous, piercing sound of horror that had emanated from Christine's throat. Erik assumed that no one had heard the brief sound…

So why did he decide to take her back to his lair?

Now he was not only a monster, but a kidnapper?

Christine stirred in her sleep, her chest brushing against Erik's long thin fingers as he held her.

Suddenly, he was very much aware that it was not a child he held in his arms, but a fully grown woman.

A woman he had been seducing using only his voice for the past year.

The sensation of Christine's warm body against his own was almost too much to bear. He was almost thankful when they reached the small, velvet lined boat that would carry them the remainder of the distance to his home. Slowly…more slowly than was necessary, Erik lay Christine's slight form in the bottom of the boat, covering her with a perfectly stitched velvet coverlet.

As he rowed back to the lair, Erik had the terrible feeling that he had just toppled the first Domino in a long chain of possibly horrific events.