A/N: As always, thanks to my beta, Le Chat Noir!

Erik: the Vampire Hunter

Episode 13: Family Secrets

By: Elektra

Erik tightened the noose around the man's neck, and tugged. Hard. The sound of breaking vertebrae echoed in his ears as he watched the man fall limply to the ground.

"What did you do?" a voice gasped a few feet away. Erik turned to see Christine staring at him, eyes wide, tiny hand over her mouth. "You killed him! Murdered him!"

"No!" Erik protested. "It's not what you think!" he tried to explain. "I had to! Oh, Christine, I HAD to! He would have killed others! It is what I do. It's why the Hunters' Guild needs me so! You don't understand-"

"Murderer!" she cried out.

"I'm the Guild's Executioner!"

"Murderer! " she repeated.

"I'm their Assassin!"

"MURDERER!" She screamed, then spun around and ran off into the darkness.

Ravelle College - Erik's Room

"Christine!" Erik cried out as he shot up in bed. He looked around the room, and found he was alone.

...in the dark...

...as always...

It was a dream. No. A nightmare.

Executioner. Assassin. The Guild could call him what they wished. The truth was, he was a murderer.

Plain and simple.

As if his hideous face wasn't enough to deny him Christine's heart.

Erik ran a hand through his disheveled hair, noticing it was growing long enough to brush his jaw now. No matter. He didn't mind the length. It was something else he could hide behind.

Erik was suddenly startled by the high-pitched ringing of his cell phone. He quickly grabbed it and frowned at the caller ID. Blocked Call.

Perhaps someone was looking for an architect?

"Erik speaking, may I help you?" he asked politely, as was his custom when greeting a possible new customer.

There was a breathy pause, "Oh god… you sound just like him! "

Erik froze. He hadn't heard that voice in twenty years. Why now? Why, after all this time, did her voice still affect him? "Madeline."

"Hello, Erik," Madeline began. "Someone... someone gave me your phone number. A woman. She came to visit-"

"Antoinette."

"Uh... yeah. Antoinette Giry. That was her name. I... just wanted to wish you a happy birthday, Erik. I know... I know it's a few weeks late, but... it took a while to ... find my nerve. I haven't had any way to contact you since... since Social Services took you away and I-"

"Are you dying, Madeline?" Erik interrupted coldly. "Do you suddenly feel the need to make amends for your sins before you pass on? Is that why you're calling me?"

"What? N-no! I'm... I'm fine, Erik." A momentary pause. "Would you CARE if I was dying?" she asked.

"As much as you would care if I was," he replied angrily.

"You're my son, Erik!" Madeline replied.

He let out a harsh laugh. "And I remember several times as a child you told me straight to my ugly face that you wished me dead. Don't play the loving mother now, Madeline!"

"I was hardly ever sober when you were a child," she explained.

"And you are NOW, I suppose, what with the prison system not allowing their inmates alcohol and drugs," he shot back sarcastically.

"Calling you was a mistake," Madeline replied. "I'm sorry. I never should've bothered. I knew you would be bitter and angry. I knew... but I thought I could deal with it," he heard a shaky breath, "It seems I can't. If... if you ever want to write me, or visit, you know where I am..."

"Madeline..." Erik began before she had a chance to hang up. She waited. He took a deep breath. "Hearing your voice after all these years is not entirely offensive."

It was the best he could offer.

"And hearing your voice after all these years is as beautiful as ever," she replied quietly. "I'm sorry I never told you that when you were a child..." A voice in the background interrupted Madeline's words, informing her that her time was up. "I have to go, Erik. It-it was good to hear you again." Another pause. "I would like you to visit… sometime…"

Nothing more was said as they both disconnected.

Erik sat staring at the phone for several moments before he finally put it back on his night table. He raised a hand, saw it shaking. How could she have unnerved him so? Was it the latent anger upon hearing her voice? Or the painful memories it conjured up?

Erik didn't wait to figure it out as he steeled his mettle and quickly slid out of bed.

DeChagny Residence – that afternoon

Christine slowly wandered down the halls of the DeChagny mansion on her way back to the TV room after a quick nature call. The place was nice. Classy-looking. She wondered if she could live here, like Raoul had asked her.

She shook her head. No. It wasn't cozy.

It was too big. Too much.

She walked passed Philip's study, and froze when she heard the voices emanating from the semi-opened door. One was Philip's… but the other….

What is HE doing here? Christine wondered as she slunk a little closer to the door.

The silky smooth voice stopped speaking for a moment. She then heard someone slowly walking towards the door, pushing it the rest of the way open.

A man stood before her, simply staring at her. It ISN'T him after all, Christine realized as she looked over the man's form. He was almost the same height as Erik, rather pale …

… and incredibly beautiful.

Upon studying his lovely face and thick ebony hair, she decided the man could be no older then thirty. She smiled up at him, feeling a slight blush on her cheeks. There was something about him… something that drew her …

His eyes!

Christine's heart skipped a beat. Surely it was a trick of the light. Surely this man did not have Erik's eyes! The same colour. The same intensity.

But where Erik's eyes were - at times - warm and kind, THIS man's eyes looked as if they could never be anything but cold and cruel.

And frightening.

So very frightening.

Christine hugged herself, trying to suppress a shiver. "Wh-who are you?" she asked as he studied her a little too closely.

"One does not eavesdrop on two gentlemen conversing, then ask questions when confronted." He replied.

Oh god, Christine thought, he even talks like him. "I-I'm sorry," she stuttered. "I… didn't mean to eavesdrop. Your voice just reminded me of someone. A friend of mine." She shook her head. "I'm really sorry!" She then spun around and raced down the hall, away from the angelic-looking man and the sudden fear he inspired in her.

"Raoul!" Christine gasped as she returned to the younger DeChagny in the TV Room, "Who's that man your brother's talking too?"

Raoul furrowed his brow at her sudden question, and the nervousness that had accompanied it. "No idea. Some business associate of his, I guess." He then frowned. "I don't think business is going very well though, because whenever my brother finishes talking to him, he's always in a bad mood." And he always reminds me to keep trying to pursue you, Raoul thought silently, wondering why Philip's guest made his brother feel there was a desperate need for a DeChagny marriage. He'd have to ask him about that another time.

"Does he remind you of anyone?" Christine asked.

"No," Raoul replied with a shrug, then grew concerned at how unsettled she was. "Why, Chrissy? Should he?"

Erik's Room – that night

"So you're saying this man had my voice, my eyes?" Erik asked as paced back and forth in front of Christine. She had come to his room as soon as Raoul had dropped her back at Residence. She needed to tell him about her strange encounter.

Erik had not been happy to find out Christine had gone over there, but it was not jealousy that caused his distress. It was the fact that Nadir had informed Erik he had seen the Leader leaving the DeChagny residence not too long ago.

But how could he explain that to Christine? Would she even understand? Or would she assume he was resentful of her relationship with DeChagny?

"Yeah. I was wondering if you had a brother or something." She looked up at him, "He was creepy, Erik. I mean, really creepy." She then realized her words. "But that's NOT why he reminded me of you!" she added quickly.

"I would not hold it against you if it WAS, Christine. I'm quite aware of what people think of me."

"I don't think that. I'd never think that!" she insisted.

He glanced at her, then looked away. "You are a good girl, Christine. Never wanting to offend anyone." He shook his head. "But I'm used to being offended, so it does not matter."

He sat on the bed beside her. "But to answer your question – no. Madeline did not have any other children as far as I know. I imagine I was horror enough for her as it was. Considering the way she treated ME, another child would have driven her mad."

Christine studied him for a moment. "The scars on your back..." she began hesitantly. "Was it her?"

"Oh, Madeline enjoyed taking her animosity out on me quite a bit... but the scars on my back... no," he explained. "When I was 13, a few older boys in my foster neighbourhood decided to set up a little freak show in their backyard."

A cold frightening chuckle suddenly escaped Erik's throat. "Rather ingenious, when you think of it, actually. I was certainly an attraction. That being said, when I tried to hide my face from their customers, they ended up using their father's leather belt as a whip."

Christine was amazed at the cool calmness of his voice as he related the story. She then noted how he unconsciously slid his fingers beneath the sleeve of his shirt and rubbed at his wrists. When the black material moved up his arm, she finally saw why. "Erik! What-"

"Ahh, curious I see." He answered coolly, then slid up his sleeves and showed her the faded scars encircling his wrists. "I was handcuffed to a fence and cut myself up trying to break loose,"

"Oh God..." She gasped as she reached out to touch the damaged skin. Erik quickly tugged his wrist away before she could make contact.

"I managed to free myself eventually," he continued unemotionally. "I doubt my foster parents even noticed I was gone," he shrugged. "Or if they did, perhaps they were grateful. Either way, they got rid of me shortly afterwards. Told the social workers I was too much to handle."

He saw the look upon her face and let out a cold laugh. "Oh, no need to worry so much about my well being, Christine. It was all an advantage, really. I was able to train myself to have a rather high threshold for pain – both physical and psychological. It's something that has proved rather useful in my night job."

Christine could only stare at him in disbelief. How could he just sit there and brush it off as if it were nothing? An advantage? That was an advantage NO ONE should have to have!

It made her heart hurt more then she thought possible. She wanted to take him in her arms, hug him. Comfort him.

Christine opted for the safest route instead, and put a hand on his shoulder. He turned to her, a frown on his lips. He didn't look happy at her offer of support. "I did not tell you that for pity, Christine!" he hissed. "I simply wanted to explain the-"

Christine suddenly pressed a hand against his mouth, interrupting his words. "Do you ever stop being grumpy?" She shot back, "Do you ever consider that maybe… just maybe… the things I do or say are because… oh I don't know… because I actually care about my friends? Has that even entered your mind just once?" she asked. He blinked in surprise at her tone. "It always has to be one or the other with you, Erik. Either someone pities you, or someone is disgusted by you. Ever think there might be something in-between?"

Erik wrapped his long bony fingers around her wrist and lifted her hand from his mouth. He turned her palm up and brushed his free index finger across it, studying it with such intensity that he didn't notice Christine's momentary shudder.

"You have a strong, deep heart line." He noted, then looked back at her. "It means you're a silly little girl who cares too damned much!" He let her hand drop.

Christine's hurt at his words overshadowed her surprise that Erik could read palms. She quickly stood up, trying to mask her emotions.

"I'm sorry that my caring about you offends you," she said as she turned to go, but not before Erik saw the flash of pain in her eyes.

Damn it… Erik cursed silently

Christine froze when she felt two strong hands gently grasp her shoulders from behind.

"Forgive me, Christine." Erik's voice was soft now. "It is not that I'm offended. It is just that I'm not used to someone - anyone - caring. I look upon it with suspicion," he was silent for a moment. "I know it's not fair of me to-" He was struck silent as Christine leaned back against him. He automatically flinched at the contact, though he knew he had no reason to.

"You really make it difficult for someone to befriend you," Christine finally said when she realized he was saying nothing more. "Don't you get that, Erik?" She tilted her head back, catching his eyes as she studied him upside down.

Erik stared down at her, "Christine..."his fingers curiously trailed their way up from her shoulder, his thumb brushing against her tilted jaw ever so gently. Why are you letting me touch you…? I have no right

But Christine didn't pull away.

Erik quickly dropped his hands to his side and stepped back, startling the girl with the sudden lack of contact. Christine turned around, only to find his back facing her as his cold demeanor returned.

"If you see that man the next time you visit your lover," Erik's calm voice contradicted the wild emotions racing through him. "Call me. I will come to the DeChagny residence and find out who he is. Do not tell him or his older brother that you contacted me. I do not want the man to leave before I arrive."

In truth, he didn't want that man to be anywhere near Christine. Especially if he was the Leader, as Nadir had claimed.

Christine winced hearing Erik still refer to Raoul as her lover. He was nothing of the sort. She had even told Raoul he was more of a friend than a boyfriend.

Telling Erik that, however, would be a waste of breath.

"I will," she replied instead.

He nodded, his back still to her. "You should return to your dorm now, Christine," his voice was gentle. "You have an early class in the morning, yes?"

Christine was touched by his concern, "Yes. Vocal Techniques, level II," she then smiled, "But Senõr Piangi says I've already advanced past it. He said I must have an excellent tutor…"

Christine saw Erik tilt his head towards her ever so slightly. Enough to see the slight upward turn at the corner of his pale lips. "Is that so?" he asked.

"Yes. That's so."

"Well now… I can't imagine why you'd still need that class then," he said.

"I need to complete the credit, regardless," she shrugged. "It'll just be a lot easier for me than the others."

"Then I expect perfect marks for every test and exam that you take in that class."

Christine smiled. "As long as I have my tutor to help me practice, I won't disappoint."

Erik nodded and finally turned to face her. "Goodnight, Christine. Sleep well…"

"Good night, Erik. You sleep well too…" And with that, she let herself out.

Meg and Christine's Dorm room – later

"Chrissy?"

"Hmmm?" Christine looked up from her novel to see Meg staring at her.

"You've been reading that same page for the last twenty minutes."

Christine looked down at the page, skimmed over it once more, and frowned. Now why couldn't real-life be as simple as the romance novels she read? Because that's what makes this FICTION, she scolded herself. Boy meets girl, boy falls in love and courts girl, girl falls in love back, and they live happily ever after - and have great sex in the process.

Not that Christine would know anything about that...

"You look worried about something, Chrissy." Meg broke into her thoughts.

Christine sighed. "I think I'm in trouble," she said.

Meg was suddenly concerned. "Oh no! What did you do?"

"Not THAT kind of trouble!" Christine quickly corrected. "I mean… as far as relationships and stuff go."

"Is this about Raoul asking you to marry him?" Meg asked. "I mean, you could do worse, you know. He's a decent guy, really cute, and stinking rich too," she winked.

"Sure, it would be perfect … except I'm not in-love him," Christine replied softly. "I mean, I'm fond of him. I care about him, but as for a future together," she shook her head. "I don't see it."

Meg leaned forward now. "And who DO you see a future with?" she asked.

Christine looked back at Meg, a little surprised at her question. "I… no one. I mean…" she glanced away, "Not unless-" she quickly stopped, not wanting to say any more.

Meg raised an eyebrow. "Not unless WHAT, Chrissy? Do you have someone in mind?" she asked.

Christine shook her head and offered a forced smile. "Of course not. I can't… I can't be thinking of other guys after giving Raoul the friends speech. That would make me… fickle… wouldn't it?"

"I think if you found the right person, it wouldn't be fickle." Meg replied. "As long as it's not a quick fling with some hot guy, of course."

"Oh God! I could never have a fling with him!" Christine replied.

"HIM?" Meg questioned. "There's a him?"

Christine opened her mouth, then quickly closed it. "Um…No. There's no him." She turned back to her book. "There's no one. Honest. No one at all…"

"Methinks the lady doth protest too much!" Meg smirked. "Who is it? C'mon, Chrissy. I'm the best friend, right? You're supposed to tell me these things." She urged impatiently.

"Please, Meg, there's no HIM," Christine replied. "But… well… if there was… hypothetically of course… I don't think it would work. He has a lot of baggage. I'm talking serious messed up emotional baggage."

Meg furrowed her brow, "Ok, so – hypothetically, this HIM isn't Bobby the pervert, is it?"

Christine looked at her friend, eyes wide, and could not help but burst out laughing.

Arts Building – the next night

Erik's fingers trailed lightly over the piano before him. Normally, Christine would be here, joining the music with her voice. But the lovely little ingénue was at a movie with her pretty boy, leaving him to brood alone.

Erik began to play again, closing his eyes as a song escaped from his lips and filled the room. "There's no time for us. There's no place for us. What is this thing that builds our dreams and slips away from us? Who wants to live forever-"

"Oh, Erik, you're so depressing," a soft sigh interrupted from the window. Erik slowly opened his eyes. He knew Laura had been standing there. He had sensed her before she had spoken, but he just didn't find any immediate need to acknowledge her. "I'm rather upset that I cannot visit your room any more. I was hoping to catch you in the shower one night…" she pouted prettily, "But it seems every time I try to enter that building, something always pushes me back out."

"Amazing what a well-placed spell can do," he answered indifferently. "Now what do you want, Laura?" Truthfully, he didn't really care.

In a blur of blond hair and pale skin, Erik found Laura on his lap, her arms around his neck. "Oh, you know… the usual," she smirked up at him. "Only now, I've decided not to kill you afterwards," she leaned forward in an attempt to kiss him, but he grasped her shoulders and pushed her off.

"You will not be my first kiss!" He snapped as he jumped to his feet.

Her eyes went wide, "You've never kissed a girl, Erik?" she asked. "That's incredibly sexy! Oh, just imagine what I could teach you!" She seemed overly delighted.

"I'd rather not," he replied dryly.

She placed her elegant hands on her curvy hips. "You know, beggars can't be choosers, Erik. Let's face it, you're a 30-year old virgin, and that's never going to change unless you come to me." She then smiled again, showing a flash of fangs. "I can give you so much! Don't you see? I can even give you eternal life!"

"An eternity of this?" he asked as he indicated his mask, "No thank you, Laura. I'd be happy to die a nice natural death. It will be the closest thing to normal I'll ever experience."

"In your line of work, the term normal does not exist!" Laura scoffed.

"I suppose it doesn't," he said as he reached into the pocket of his duster and pulled out a sharp piece of wood. "And I should be doing my job right about now, shouldn't I?"

She took a deep breath, not overly concerned, "You could, I suppose," she said. "But then, you'll never know what danger your cute little dancing girl is in."

Erik froze. "What are you talking about?" he demanded.

"Oh, our Leader is getting annoyed with her. Curious little thing, you know. She's taken it upon herself to catch him at the DeChagny house,"

The reality of the situation suddenly hit Erik. "He's THERE? With HER?"

"Well, I could tell you more…" Laura said with a smile as she sidled up to him and reached up to slide her arms around his neck. "If you give me a kiss first. And a good one. French, preferably. I imagine you'd be a rather ardent kisser with all those unfulfilled desires coursing through that lovely body of yours!" She leaned forward. "Mmm… and if you touch me with as much passion as you touch the keys on that piano, I might even-"

Erik quickly shoved Laura away and ran out of the arts building, ignoring the vampire's laughter as he raced off to find Christine.

DeChagny Residence – Outside (later)

Erik looked at the man who stood before him, catching him just outside the DeChagny mansion before he was able to get into his black stretched limousine and leave.

The man was the same height, the same build, had the same grace and ease of movements, had a voice that was almost exactly like Erik's. He even seemed to be the same age.

The only difference was his face – it was flawless.

Erik suddenly found himself wondering what he COULD have looked like… if things had been different.

"Who are you?" Erik demanded suspiciously.

"I believe your Guild calls me the Leader," the man replied coldly.

Erik's eyes went wide. How was it possible? He sensed NOTHING from this man. Not like he usually sensed from the creatures he hunted. So what WAS he?

More importantly - why would the creatures allow one that was not their own to lead them?

Erik wanted to call for backup, but he was sure the Leader would be long gone before he ever had a chance. And staking the man was obviously out of the question if he was not one of the undead.

He only had one other option. Slowly, he slid a hand inside his duster and grasped the coiled rope that rested within the inner pocket. He glanced to the left and saw Christine standing several feet away, watching him with the DeChagny boy at her side. The boy was no doubt, rather confused at the moment.

Erik let go of the coiled length of rope, keeping it hidden.

He could not do it.

He WOULD not do it.

Not in front of her.

"Christine," Erik began, his eyes never leaving the Leader, "If you like, I can accompany you back to Ravelle."

"I can take her back myself!" came the young DeChagny's voice.

Christine glanced back and forth between Erik, Raoul, and the Leader, nibbling at her lower lip nervously. "Um… I'll go with Erik, Raoul," she began. "He lives around there." She was purposely vague, not wanting Raoul to know HOW close Erik lived to her College Residence.

Raoul looked at her, then back at Erik, a frown on his perfectly sculpted face. "Fine. I'll call you tomorrow," he said, then made a great show of hugging Christine tightly.

A little too tightly, Erik thought angrily, debating whether or not to reach into his duster and use that rope on the boy instead.

"Well then," the Leader smiled handsomely. "I should be on my way as well,"

Erik's attention went back to the man, golden eyes narrowed suspiciously. He made a note to find out if there were any strange relatives in the Renau family. If there was some great secret that he was unaware of.

He was startled out of his thoughts as Christine slipped her hand in his, looking up at him with a sweet smile. "Shall we go?" she asked.

After getting over the momentary shock of Christine's soft warm hand in his, Erik nodded and led her away from the DeChagny mansion, and the Leader.

As he headed back to Ravelle with Christine, Erik was filled with a deep sense of foreboding and apprehension. He knew what he would have to do. It was something he was hoping to avoid. Especially after the phone call a few days ago.

But questions had to be answered.

Erik knew that he would have to confront Madeline Renau - once and for all.

END OF EPISODE 13

Extra A/N: the song Erik is singing when Laura confronts him is "Who Wants to Live Forever" by Queen.