Chapter Sixteen

Phantom's Rage

Anger is a killing thing: it kills the man who angers,

for each rage leaves him less than he had been before-

it takes something from him.

Later that evening Erik went to his room to find Christine, wishing to speak with her merely for the pleasure of hearing her voice. He frowned when he saw that she was not there. Wondering where she could have gotten to he began to look in the places he would most likely find her.

When that did not work he began to get worried. Where the devil was she? Had he not told her never to wander off without letting him know where she was going? He was to old to be chasing around after her! He saw Anita walking down the hall towards him and hastened his steps, wondering if perhaps she knew where Christine might be.

"You!" he growled. The woman jumped like a rabbit who had just been spotted by the wolf.

"Yes, Sir?" she whisperered, looking down at the ground.

"Where is my wife?" he asked. Anita hesitated, as if thinking where she had last seen Christine.

"I do not know, Sir, she helped me clean her rooms out and then she went off somewhere," she replied. Erik muttered something under her breath. He turned and stalked away, determined to give Christine a talking to when he found her.

Loud banging could be heard on the front doors and before he could go and see who it was one of the stable boys burst through them. He halted in his steps when he saw Erik, shrinking slightly in fear.

"How dare you come into my home without permission?" Erik hissed, his anger at Christine being lashed out at anyone foolish enough to get in his way.

"Monsieur-the Madam-"

He could not finish his sentence, looking ready to drop in a faint at the sight of Erik. Erik stalked toward him, beyond angry now. How dare this boy interrupt him when he was looking for Christine. He grabbed the boy around the neck and shoved him against the nearest wall.

"Y-your w-w-w-wife!" he managed to gasp. Erik let go of him immediately. The boy slumped to the floor, gasping for breath.

"Where is she?" he demanded, ready to grab the boys throat again.

"The stables!" he moaned, rubbing the bruise that was already beginning to form on his sun bronzed skin. With a whirl of his cloak Erik had left the house, glad it was night in Paris. He felt more comfortable with the shadows protecting him from any unwanted eyes.

Lights illuminated the stables and as Erik quietly entered he noticed the large group of stable hands all surrounded around a figure that was lying in the straw. He felt his heart squeeze painfully in his chest.

"Get away from her," he hissed, somehow knowing it was Christine. The men all turned to look fearfully in his direction, only the white of his mask being illuminated in the dull light. They all watched in fascinated horror as he seemed to extinguish all of the candles with a single twirl of his cloak. The men all stumbled away from Christine, trying to find purchase in the dark.

With the darkness to cover him he went to Christine, able to see her clearly in the blackness. Her skin was pale and a small trickle of blood was pooled at the corner of her mouth. He began to gather her into his arms when his hand came away sticky and moist. He brought it to his nose to smell...blood. He found the wound on the back of her head.

A broken moan came to his mouth and it was inhuman and unlike anything the men around him had ever heard. They scrambled further back, wishing they could see him so they knew where to protect themselves.

Erik gathered her into his arms and wrapped his cloak around her, leaving the stables as quietly as he had come. When they were surrounded in light once more Erik could not look at her as he carried her limp body to their room, knowing if he did he would lose his fragile grasp on reality.

When he reached their room he laid her down gently on the bed, sobs beginning to wrack his body as he looked at her, so near death. Her pusle was weak and fluttering and a few more hours and he knew she would have been gone from him forever. He would be damned before he allowed that to happen.

xXx

Erik stared thoughtfully into the flickering flames of the fire. He had built it in the hopes of warming the room for Christine and now he stared into it because he could not look at her fragile body on the bed so helpless and lifeless.

Who would dare strike her in his home, with the obvious intent of murder? Why had he not been there to protect her when he needed her? Was it not his job as her husband? Had she called out to him for help and he had not heard? That idea made him sick inside.

He would find out who did this to her and he would make them pay dearly for every laying a hand on her in the first place.

xXx

Christine head was pounding unmercifully and she felt ready to vomit as she slowly opened her eyes. She was beneath several thick blankets and a fire blazed in the fireplace making her quite warm. She felt a warm, heavy arm lying across her stomach and turned her head to see Erik lying beside her, a slight frown on his lips while he slept.

She gently touched her temple and felt the bandages Erik must have wrapped around her head. She remembered nothing after the point of leaving Erik's music room and that blank was frightening to her. She shifted slightly and Erik's eyes opened. He stared at her a long time, as if trying to believe that he was not dreaming.

"My head hurts, Erik," she whispered, wishing he would say something. Erik sat up and looked down at her, concern written in his eyes.

"Do not move, I think you have a concussion," he whispered, going to get her a glass of water. He returned and gently placed it upon her lips. She drank it thankfully and Erik settled himself beside her again.

"What happened?" she whispered. Erik frowned.

"You do not remember?" he asked, highly concerned. She shook her head.

"I remember being in your music room, singing...then nothing," she whispered. This was not good, not only did it mean she had been hit harder then he had originally believed but it also meant she did not remember who it was that had hit her.

"Someone hit you," he said. Her eyes grew round.

"Why?" she whispered.

"I have no idea, but I plan on finding out."