A/N: I do not own the Phantom of the Opera and I am running out of clever things to say in my disclaimers.

Probably my last update until after the Chrismassy! So I hope you enjoy, please, please tell me if you like the direction the story has turned. This chapter is a little less romancie than the previous ones and some of the chapters following are going to be like that too. But I think it will be highly worth it for the story.

Did you like the fact that Raoul and Christine were introduced? I am trying to not make them cardboard characters but Katerina is so pissed at both of them it's kinda rubbing off.

Hee, so here it is.

The theater was on edge, the actors paused and the musicians skipped notes. Madame Durand was smiling. Not only that but she had been humming arias all morning. The members of the theater, used to predicting disaster and chaos when she entered a room, were quite astonished as she simply passed by without saying a word. Simply nodding and going down the list of tasks as a bewildered Giovanni followed in her wake.

They finally came to a realization.

The bal had gone well.

Katerina went to check on her roses when she sent Giovanni out to the front hall to check the queue and see if there were any letters concerning auditions for a leading soprano. So far they had gone terrible. Even the ones that showed a barest hint of talent Erik just shook his head. They did not have a voice teacher and until they did he was not going to write for an untested voice. Katerina sighed; it would be too much to ask him to teach another girl. Though the thought had crossed her mind, still, the look he had given her barred that option.

"You would think there would be more women out there…"

"Madame?" Giovanni said as he came up the stairs.

"Ah, non Gio, I was just thinking out loud."

The little one nodded and tried to make sense of his own scrawling letters. He had been improving with his writings in the last few months. He was a very smart boy; he had just been neglected for so long. Katerina smiled at his tousled blonde hair and his little furrowed brow.

"Can you read it Gio?"

"I could yesterday."

"Do you remember what happened yesterday?"

Her thought for a second and then nodded, "It was before the masque and you said that you needed to remember to place an ad for a ballet instructor and to renew the ad for a soprano."

"So what does your writing say?"

He pondered for a bit and then smiled, "I spelled instructor wrong."

"Let us hear it the correct way."

Gio nodded and closed his eyes, "I-n-s-t-r—u-c-t-o-r."

"Brilliant."

He grinned and handed her the letters from the queue.

She smiled as he sat down on the steps beside her. He was very discreet for an eight year old. First, helping her move the boxes into Erik's study without question and then, a week before the masque, he had scratched on the door and found it open. He had seen her and Erik talking. Gio had just bowed to Erik and relayed his message to Katerina. When she had asked him about it he told her that he was raised to not meddle with grown ups.

But his eyes had sparkled, "Madame Durand, he is the real phantom, is he not?"

Katerina had just nodded at the boy, "Yes and this is his opera house, whoever lives under this roof is protected by him."

"Others say he is dangerous."

"All men are dangerous when they are pushed to their end. The real phantom would never hurt you Giovanni, do you believe me?"

He had nodded at once, "I do, Madame."

Then the matter had been settled for the boy and Katerina had decided that she liked children.

Children

She swallowed and glanced down at the ring upon her finger. Non, that thought would wait for another time. She tore through the letters from the queue, letters from artisans thanking her for business. A request from a Countess DuManchard for tickets to the first show, she would have to put that with the countless other request letters in her desk. Finally she came to a smaller envelope; she flipped it over and blinked.

A skull imprint in a red wax seal.

What an odd seal to use on a letter. Swiftly she broke it and pulled out the small slip of paper inside. There was only one sentence on the parchment in long scratching cursive.

I will have my revenge upon you all…

Katerina blinked; what in God's name?

"Madame Durand!"

An angry voice filled the hall and Giovanni jumped up.

A man with rich blonde hair in a fine suit was marching up the front steps. Anger shone in his blue eyes.

"Madame! Do you have anything to do with this?"

He held up… a letter.

Katerina smiled and held hers up as well.

"Shall I hazard as to what it says? Perhaps something akin to revenge?"

The anger left his eyes immediately, "You got one as well?"

Katerina nodded, "It was left in the queue this morning. And you are Monsieur?"

"I am the Vicomte De Changy," he bowed before her and Katerina forced a slight smiled upon her face.

"Ah, Christine's husband. May I see your letter?"

He obliged and Katerina held the notes in her hands, "They are exactly alike, even the handwriting is the same."

"I had thought…"

"You had thought perhaps a cruel joke from a thoughtless woman?"

He blushed suddenly and Katerina grinned at his embarrassment.

"You don't need to be shy; I know precisely what it is that people outside this theater think of me."

"That you are earning money on a tragedy."

"Who's tragedy? Yours Monsieur? Your pretty wife's? Or perhaps the phantom himself? It is in the past now and needs to be forgotten."

"Which is what I would have kindly liked to do until that letter arrived at our hotel and sent my wife into a faint."

"Perhaps she does not have such a good constitution. A woman should not faint at the sight of paper and ink."

The anger returned to his eyes, she was irritating him. Good.

"If you knew anything of those horrors that occurred those years ago Madam you would not be as quick to judge."

Katerina wanted to slap him.

To think that this sniveling Vicomte blamed Erik for everything! Katerina knew that a good deal of it was her fiancés fault but the anger still burned fresh in the Vicomte's eyes as if the events had happened only yesterday. Even her love deserved some forgiveness for his actions after all this time.

"Madam?"

A slender girl with long red hair stood in the doorway to the house, a ballerina by the looks of her build. She looked nervous and Katerina knew that she had never once been approached by the chorus before. The girl clutched several letters and Katerina cursed under her breath.

"Madame, we have received these, apparently everyone that works in the theater got one."

She held the letters out and Katerina saw the same looping handwriting and the same cryptic words.

I will have my revenge upon you all…

Katerina's mood to tease the Vicomte faded away, "What is your name girl?"

"Babette."

"You say that everyone received a letter?"

The girl nodded, "All the ballerinas did along with the stage hands and even Monsieur Dominic."

Merde.

"I see, we are getting to the bottom of this foul joke. It is nothing to be worried about; we will see the perpetrators caught."

Babette stood for a second more before her face broke into relief, "Thank you Madam, I will tell the others."

Katerina watched the girl jog swiftly back to the stage and when she turned back the Vicomte was staring pointedly at her.

"A joke you say? Or perhaps the opera ghost has returned."

Katerina returned his gaze, "I suppose you are going to give me tips as to how I am to properly dispose of said ghost?"

"This theater should not be open."

Katerina turned and started through the house doors.

"Madame Durand, I ask you to listen to me!"

She walked swiftly ignoring the Vicomte and his hurried steps behind her.

"If this is not a joke everyone is in danger!"

Katerina whirled on him, "Vicomte, I will ask that you keep your voice down or I shall have you thrown out of my theater."

He stopped and met her eyes, "We must talk Madame Durand."

"Fine, only for a few moments and then you will leave."

"Madame."

"I will not hesitate to call the gendarmes on you. I will not hesitate a second so you will behave civilly."

He followed her, quietly now, up the stairs back stage to her office. Gio ran after them both with a worried look on his face.

Katerina was fuming, whoever had the gall to send these notes to her crew and the Changy's would be shot if she found them. She reached the end of the hall and made to yank the door to her office open.

Oddly, it suddenly exploded outward when she barely turned the knob.

Katerina blinked.

"Madam Durand!"

The Vicomte was yelling again and it seemed that she was buried in a snow bank. Except it was not cold and some of it seemed to be poking her in the neck. With a shock she sat up.

The Vicomte was standing knee deep against the wall in a throng of letters. Giovanni was standing, wide-eyed, at the end of the hall where the pile had slid to an end.

Katerina stared into her office, she could make out the divan and the desk but the ottoman and her stool were no where to be seen, buried in a mess of carefully sealed letters. After her surprise had subsided she angrily tossed the letters aside in an effort to stand up. After a long angry moment she took the Vicomte's hand that he offered. Together they stood there and stared at the impossible feat that had taken over her space.

"I believe he wants to make sure you get his message."

She blinked and looked at the Vicomte; she hadn't noticed before that they were sharing the same look of dread.

Shorter than the last I know, but my mom is off making Mexican food for Christmas eve dinner and that's totally distraction.