Chapter Nine
Tempers
"Erik Desslar?" the man inquired, wondering if he had heard right. The dark skinned man nodded.
"Yes, you have heard of him?" he inquired. The nobleman nodded his head. Of course, who had not heard of Monsieur Desslar?
"Indeed, he has quite a reputation," he said. The Persian nodded. He knew all to well about Desslar's reputation.
"Do you know where I can find him?" he asked. The nobleman gave him directions and he thanked him before making his way down one of the many Paris streets. The clouds were dark overhead, threatening a storm but people still went about their daily business. Paris was a beautiful city but he missed Persia, his homeland. When his business with Erik Desslar was completed he would be going home the first opportunity he could. Erik had managed to stay out of the Persian's hands many times but not this time.
He was Nadir Khan and he would not allow this man to get away again. Justice would always prevail. The home he came to was one of the wealthier in Paris and he shook his head, Erik always had known how to get what he wanted. A butler answered the door and showed him into an elegant foyer. When the man left Nadir poured himself some brandy and looked around the expensive room with interest. Erik always had good taste.
The door opened but instead of the masked man he expected Nadir was faced with a surprised looking young woman. She pushed the curls away from her face and managed to smile after she got over the initial shock of seeing someone else in the room.
"Oh! I am sorry! I did not know anyone was here!" she apologized. He bowed graciously.
"No need to apologize, Mademoiselle," he assured her. Christine studied the dark skinned man with interest. He was dressed well in black trousers with matching coat and shirt and his black hair slicked back from his bronzed face. He spoke French with a slight accent that she could not place and it interested her. Who was this man?
"Is there something I can help you with?" she wondered. The man studied her.
"No, thank you, I am waiting for the master of the house," he said. Christine's brow rose. He knew Erik? Her husband was always surprising her and this mans appearance was another surprise.
"He is not in at the moment," she said. Nadir sighed in agitation. But in reality he was glad. He had no idea what he was going to do when he was face to face with the masked man.
"Is there something you would like me to tell him when he returns?" she wondered.
"It is a private matter," Nadir informed her. Christine smiled.
"I am sure you could tell his wife, I am very trustworthy," she promised. This statement caused the Persian's eyes to widen in surprise. This woman was Erik's wife? Erik was married. This complicated things immensely but he could still not hide his obvious shock.
"You are Madam Desslar?" he asked. She nodded.
"The one and only," Christine said dryly. He went to her and took her hand, kissing in lightly.
"A pleasure, Madam, I am Nadir Khan," he said. She smiled again.
"Christine Daae Desslar," she answered. Once more he was taken by surprise. Paris was not good for him, to many surprises and he felt like he might have a heart attack.
"Daae? Do you happen to know a Gustave Daae?" he asked.
"Yes, he is my father," she answered. Ah, yes, he could see Emma in this girl. Why had he not seen it before? There was a bitter sweet feeling in his stomach as he gazed at the beautiful woman before him.
"Where are you from, Monsieur Khan?" she wondered, needing to change the subject but also curious to know.
"Persia," he answered with a smile. He liked this girl, he could tell she was a good hearted woman, just like Emma had once been.
"Truly? My mother used to tell me stories of Persia," Christine said. Nadir was sure she had. Both turned as the door opened and Erik walked in, both surprised and angry to see Nadir in his home. The devil had caught up with him.
"You should thank my wife, Khan," Erik murmured. The Persian's body was tense as he watched Erik with caution, knowing never to let his guard down when he was in the same room as this man.
"Indeed, and for what pray tell?" Nadir asked. Erik look was dangerous.
"If she was not in the room you would be dead," he growled, causing Christine to gasp. She watched the two men closely, very much aware of the stiffness of their shoulders. What was going on?
"Your threats are wasted," Nadir said. Erik smiled grimly.
"I believe you know all to well that I always act on what I say," Erik replied.
"Perhaps the two of you would like to explain why you are being so disrespectful to one another?" Christine asked, catching both men by surprise. They had forgotten she was in the room. Her arms were crossed over her chest and she had an expectant look in her eyes.
"Madam, I believe you should move away from him immediately," Nadir informed her. Christine's brow rose in question, glancing at her husband.
"Excuse me?" she said.
"It would be wise to listen," Nadir continued, keeping his eyes on Erik.
"And it would be wise of you to speak with more respect when addressing my wife," Erik hissed. Christine could not believe the hostility that was coming from both men.
"Madam, he is a murderer, do not stand to closely to him," Nadir continued, ignoring Erik's warnings. Christine sighed.
"I know very well what my husband is, Monsieur, as I also know the circumstances behind it," she replied. Erik glanced at her in surprise. She knew? How did she know? Her father! He was stepping out of line; it was not his place, only Erik had the right to tell the story!
"If you know that then how can you stand next to him, I thought you would care about your mother," Nadir said. Christine froze.
"What?" she whispered.
"He killed your mother!" the Persian cried. Erik's roar of outrage echoed throughout the room. His hands were wrapped around the Persian's neck before anyone so much as blinked. Christine cried out as he shoved Nadir against the nearest wall, his hands holding with a death grip.
"How dare you say such a thing!" he roared. Christine could see how much it affected Erik to hear the Persian say that he had killed her mother. His reaction was enough, even if she had not known that her mother had died of an ailment.
"Erik! Let him go!" Christine cried, running to him and grabbing onto his arm.
"I would never hurt Emma!" he cried.
"I know that, Erik, I know!" Christine said, desperately trying to get him off of the other man, who was beginning to turn purple. She knew he could easily kill him and she could not let that happen! Erik's gaze was deadly as he stared at the Persian, his hands tightening.
"Erik, please!" she whispered, scared of his temper and what he was capable of. He glanced at Christine and could see how scared she was of what he was doing. With another angry shove he pushed away from Nadir, who crumpled to the floor. Erik stormed out of the room, knocking things over as he went. Christine rushed to the man on the floor and helped him get into a sitting position.
They could hear things being knocked over upstairs and she silently cursed Nadir for unleashing Erik's temper. Nadir's neck was purple already and beginning to swell.
"You had better leave, Monsieur," Christine said. Nadir glanced at her.
"How did your mother die?" he asked.
"She was very sick," Christine answered, knowing she did not have to answer.
"Erik did not kill her?" he whispered, guilt washing over his eyes. Christine shook her head. She doubted very much that her father would have let her marry him if he had killed Emma.
"Then the letter was wrong..." Nadir whispered, more to himself then to Christine.
"Letter?" Christine asked. He looked at her in surprise, as if he had not known that he had spoken out loud.
"It is nothing, Madam...it appears I made a grave mistake," he whispered.
"Someone wrote you a letter...saying that Erik had murmured my mother?" she wondered. Nadir said nothing.
"You came all the way from Persia to get Erik for killing my mother?" Christine said, piecing it together. Nadir was impressed with how much Christine had come up with already.
"Yes..." he said, seeing no point in lying. Who would send him a letter saying Emma was murdered and frame Erik for the act?
"You were close to my mother?" she asked. The Persian nodded. Christine said nothing as she helped him to his feet. Emma Daae was an important link to this whole thing. Erik had been close to her obviously and that would explain some of his life, perhaps, and this Persian knew something as well. Had the stories about Persia her mother once told her more fact then fiction, had her mother been to Persia? If so, what had she been doing there.
"I am sorry for causing so much trouble," Nadir murmured, bringing Christine back to reality. She shook her head and walked him to the door.
"You were acting under false pretenses. Perhaps you should talk to whoever wrote you that letter," she suggested. Nadir sighed, if only he knew who that was!
xXx
Erik was throwing anything and everything in sight when Christine finally made it to their room. His face was livid and Christine knew she had to stop him before he hurt himself.
"Erik!" she said, but he ignored her. He grabbed the mirror she had had moved into their room to help her get ready and threw it across the room, shattering against the opposite wall. Christine cringed but rallied her courage. She went to him and took his hand, but he made to pull away from her.
"No," she whispered, doing the only thing she knew would work. She leaned up and kissed him. This was the one thing that she knew Erik would listen to. He would not hear her tell him to stop and he would never see reason, so she kissed him. She opened her mouth like he had done the last few times and coaxed him to open his mouth, although it appeared he needed little coaxing.
Erik pulled her against him and kissed her with all the passion he had shown her the other night. She had known that if he had not pulled away that night she would have allowed him to continue and make love to her, she did not know if she was thankful or not for that decision. He pulled away, leaning his forehead against her own, his breathing labored.
"I would never hurt your mother, Christine, if you believe anything believe that," he whispered. She nodded.
"I know," she whispered. He took her face in his hands and kissed her again, this time slowly. When he pulled away he gave her the first genuine smile she had ever seen.
"Would you like to go out tonight, Christine?" he asked. Christine stared at him. Had she heard him correctly?
"What?" she whispered. Erik sighed.
"The Persian's visit made me realize that I have far to much on my mind. I would like to take you to an opera and then perhaps dinner, would you join me?" he asked. He watched the wide, surprised, but utterly happy smile cross her face as she nodded.
"Oh, yes! That would be wonderful!" Christine cried. Erik smiled again. This would be a good way to take the evening off of his mind as well as Christine's, because he had not liked the look she had had on her face when she had watched him nearly kill the Persian.
"Then hurry and get ready."