Chapter Nine: Think of Me

Elissa looked up in wonder, "You came."

Erik continued to stand and cocked his head, "You thought I wasn't coming, Elissa?"

She sat up straighter, wrapping herself in the cloak, "No, I just couldn't find you when I was leaving."

Erik nodded but didn't say anything. He sat down next to her. "Why don't you try to get some more sleep; you've barely rested." Elissa wanted to argue, to talk but she knew she needed her strength for when she got to Ostrodo so she just nodded and laid her head on the window and closed her eyes.

Erik breathed a sigh of relief when, a couple minutes later, her breath became deep and even. He'd thought his little trip to the manager's office to drop off a note saying Elissa would be out of town and to grab some of her things for her wouldn't have taken as long as it did. And then he saw the note in her room. It was lying on her bed even though her door locks were secure and he'd stalked to room angrily looking for another entrance and finding none except for the mirror.

Finally, he saw the scratched on the locks from the outside and realized the lock had been picked. Swiping up the note, he turned with his cape swirling to read it. He read it a second time, his anger mounting.

Little Lissy,

I can't say I'm sorry about the fire, because I am not. I'm only glad you weren't in there so I can have you now. It took me so long to get to you and I'm not letting you go now. Are you still mad about your father? Let me ask you something, Elissa : DO YOU THINK HE WAS ALIVE WHEN HE BURNED?

"That son of a bitch," Erik growled, crumpling the note. He couldn't let Elissa see this. It would hurt her too bad and she was already bad enough after last night. So instead he slunk off into the dark hallway to find Madame Giry. He'd just turned down the hallway for her room when he saw a flash of movement to his left. He quickly flattened himself against the wall, hiding in the shadows, and watched a figure some closer and closer. He sucked in his breath a faint light shone off the person's face. It was Pierre…or rather Claude. He was sure of it, this was the same man he'd seen walking with Elissa that night they went to dinner. His fingers itched as Claude walked right past Erik, not seeing him. Two steps and a flick of the Punjab…but he resisted. For now.

He stalked the man down the hallway until they ended up in back in front of Elissa's room.

Now what does he think he's doing?

Looking both ways down the hallway and not seeing anyone, Claude pulled a small pick from his pocket and inserted it into the lock.

"I wouldn't do that if I were you," Erik said in a deep, cold voice.

Claude jumped, looking around and finding no one. "Damn ghosts," he muttered, his eyes looking nervously back and forth. Dropping the pick into his pocket, he turned and hurried away. Erik followed him, staying hidden, out of the opera house and to a grey rundown building two streets over where Claude disappeared inside. Erik spent some time finding all the entrances and sneaking around inside until he found a room in the basement that looked like Claude was living at the moment. Abandoned building…he was definitely hiding out. Erik heard a noise form the floor above and quickly exited the building and snuck back into the opera house.

He dropped the note to the managers on their desk and then hurried down to his lair. He was late; Elissa was already gone. Cursing, he hurried to the train station, lowering the hood of his cloak in to leave his mask in darkness. When he finally found Elissa, he felt a deep relief to see her safe, tucked away from the horror of her world right now.

After he'd locked the door, he went to sit across from Elissa when he saw her shivering and she sort of curled herself up. Immediately, he took off his thick cloak and wrapped it over her. One of her small hands crept out to clutch the edge of the cloak and covered his. His breath caught, staring at the overlapping of their hands, marveling at the beautiful difference between her tiny feminine hand and his larger, thicker skinned hand. He brought her hand up and kissed the palm, fascinated by the pleased expression that had crossed her sleeping face.

But now he felt her jerk sharply in her sleep. Her breath became labored and she started making small painful sounds. Alarmed, he shook her shoulders, "Elissa, wake up!"

She shot up in her seat. Her eyes opened wide and stared at him, unblinking. Without saying anything, she leaned against his and closed her eyes. Erik was confused but wrapped his arm around her so she'd be more comfortable. Was she even awake when she'd opened her eyes? Her body was curled up next to his and one of her hands clutched the edge of his cloak. He felt his stomach start to do something funny. Her vanilla scent was filling his lungs, his skin was warming and tingling where she leaned on him. He didn't understand this but he felt a lump forming in throat.

Her brow frowned in her sleep, "Erik…."

His arm around her tightened, "Yes?"

She shifted a little, muttered, "Make him go away…" and then was silent.

It was so childlike, so innocent. "I'll do it, child. For you I'll do it. He won't get away with this," he promised, swearing to himself that he would get rid of this man. He wouldn't lose Elissa. He refused to. He wasn't sure what it was exactly he was feeling for her, but he knew he cared for her strongly. She'd become a part of him, this strong yet fragile woman, and he'd be damned if he was going to lose her.

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That evening after the day long train ride (A/N: I have no idea how long the train ride would last, please bear with me), they stood on the doorstep on Madame de Loncrae's home. Before she knocked, Elissa chewed on her lip and tried to think of the best way to put this. She knew Erik would understand, though, so she turned to him.

"Madame de Loncrae was injured in the fire and still has scars. I know you'll understand, but I thought it better you not be surprised. So many people are just…." Elissa shook her head sadly, remembering the public torture Madame had to go through on a daily basis just to get to the market during those years after the fire before she was accepted.

Erik wondered what she meant, but nodded.

Madame de Loncrae answered the door after only one knock and, as she stood in the doorway, Erik's eyes widened only a fraction.

He had not been expecting this.