Chapter 5

Erik turned quickly at the sound of the door opening. He couldn't believe what he saw. Christine. He'd told her not to leave the floor. Yet here she stood. His first reaction was rage that she would disobey him this way. She could cost them all their lives.

"Christine! What are you doing here?" he demanded.

"Oh Erik…I…I was…forgive me please. I didn't think…it's just that…I was so worried about you. You'd been gone so long!"

Erik felt a pang of guilt as he looked at the disquiet on Christine's face. He never thought she would leave the floor. It seemed he learned something new about her with her every action.

"Christine, I am sorry I caused you such worry. I should have returned to let you know what I would be doing. But you should not have wandered about the inn! I told you we must not be seen!" Erik saw the look of shame that crossed her face and felt his own at causing it.

"Christine, please don't do this again. We must be as careful as possible or we will never be free. Since you are here, come and sit. There is tea on the fire and we are almost finished. I do not want you to return to the room alone." His speech was harsh and unforgiving as she sat next to him. The anger he had shown her was born of fear for her safety. Though he knew it hurt her, he hoped someday she would understand.

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Christine didn't know the eyes that followed her though she was well known to their owner. He had seen her several times while working at the opera. As a contract laborer, he was allowed access to any area backstage necessary to perform his job, and he had explored most of them, spotting her early on. She was beautiful and he was determined to have her. The lust he felt for this one went beyond anything he'd experienced before. He took any woman he wanted, whenever he wanted, with no thought if it was right or wrong. To him, women were meant for one thing and one thing only. And this one would be his greatest catch to date. Watching her close the door he knew he'd found his opportunity. Taking a large swig of his ale, he rose from his table and made his way to the door, colliding with several other patrons as he went. He'd had an excessive amount to drink and it was taking a toll on his equilibrium. He reached the door and pulled it open, finding himself in a cul-de-sac with another door across from him.

How could she have disappeared? She must have gone through this door instead. As one door closed behind him, he approached the other, his hand outstretched in an attempt to grasp the handle. Suddenly his feet became entangled and he pitched forward falling against the door hard enough to break it from its strike plate. It burst open into the room with him following close behind. He caught a brief glimpse of the people inside before he slammed to the floor, hitting his head with enough force to knock him unconscious.

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Erik leapt from his chair, overturning it, as the door crashed open. He watched as if in slow motion, while a man fell through it, crashing to the floor in front of him.

"What the…? Who is this Claude?" he demanded, as the man lay there unmoving.

"I do not know monsieur! He must be one of the patrons from the tavern!"

"Well whoever he is, we must get him out of here. Now!"

"Oui monsieur." Claude replied as he moved toward the man's feet. Erik turned the man over looking at his face. Though Erik didn't know this intruder, he had a strange feeling he'd seen him somewhere. He dismissed the thought as he focused again at the task at hand. Not caring if the man was alive or dead, he grabbed the man's arms as Claude lifted his feet and together they carried him to the back door. Claude dropped the man's feet long enough to check the alley, then they resumed their path out the door. Erik instructed Claude to move as far down the alley as possible. They passed several buildings finally dropping him at the end of the alley, mixing him in with the trash from another establishment. Erik knew he would be considered just another sot from any local tavern and anything this man might say, should he survive, would be taken as drunken dreams at best.

Upon their return to the room, Erik found Christine, still at the table, staring trancelike but it seemed to break as the door clicked shut. She looked at Erik with so much remorse that, for a moment, it was he who felt guilty.

"This is the reason why we must be so careful. Why would that man have entered here? Were you seen? Could he have followed you somehow?"

Christine looked at him hesitating before she spoke.

"I don't know how Erik, I came here straight from the floor. I didn't go anywhere else and I'm sure no one followed me! It must be a mistake!"

"How could his explosive entry be a mistake? He knew what he wanted in here and I'm sure it was you!" He knew he was shouting at her now, but he had worked himself into a rage over her carelessness.

"Erik, please! Don't treat me like this! I have no idea how he knew I was here, unless…"

"Unless what, Christine?" and his voice took on a sinister tone.

"Oh, Erik, I wasn't going to mention it. It seemed so silly. Really it did. I wasn't sure which door to open when I reached the bottom of the stairs. The first I opened led into the tavern. But I barely peeked around the door and shut it again, sure that you couldn't be there. Then I opened this one and that's when I found you. I'm sure no one even noticed me."

He watched the tears well in her eyes but he was too angry to care.

"This could cost us everything, Christine! Do you understand now why I told you not to leave the floor? Hopefully he was too drunk to remember in the morning all that he might have seen tonight. For all our sake's." He turned his back on her and walked from the table.

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Christine's first thought after Erik and Claude had returned to the room was to wonder whether the man was alive or dead. She would never wish harm on anyone intentionally, but this man…Erik was right. He could cause them all great harm should he survive and tell what he had seen.

What a fool I was to leave the floor. Erik was right. Oh God, please let this be all right.

Erik's face was red with anger and his eyes flashed as he demanded an answer from her. Could she have been seen? No, of course not! Unless it was when she had opened the wrong door…

As he stalked away from her, she rose, reaching toward him.

"Erik, I am so sorry…I shan't disobey you again! Please, don't turn from me. It wasn't intentional that I opened the wrong door. Surely you realize that."

Her hand met his back and she felt him stiffen beneath her fingers. She realized his anger and was afraid that now would be the time he would finally demand that she leave him. She wished with all her heart to stay and knew it would break should he force her to leave.

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Erik felt Christine's hand on his back and the current that flowed through him was almost unbearable. Too late he remembered how her touch could melt his resolve. He turned and crushed her to him, afraid that he may never have the opportunity again, because of what had happened.

"Oh Erik," she whispered against his chest, "I thought you would no longer want me here."

He moved her face from him to look in her eyes.

"Christine, I can't lose you. I have finally found my heart. To lose you now would kill my heart and life would fade from me. That could easily happen if one of us is seen. You must keep your promise."

"Yes, Erik. I'll not go against your wishes again"

He watched her raise her face to his, tears falling down her cheeks. Seeing the remorse in her eyes pulled at him. Two days ago, he would have not doubted that she would obey his instructions, without question. In some ways, he no longer knew the woman he pressed to his chest.

Realizing once again how his body responded to her touch, he dropped his arms.

"Yes, well…" Erik cleared his throat, "Claude, we must finish all arrangements quickly. It is imperative now that we move as swiftly as possible or I fear all will be lost. First thing in the morning, you will make plans for the carriage. I must return to my former abode to retrieve some items I did not realize I'd need. We must be ready to leave within two days time…and Claude?" Erik hesitated. "Thank you." He watched Claude's eyes twinkle with delight as the older man left the room, allowing Erik and Christine a few moments' privacy.

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It wasn't that he'd said 'thank you' to Claude, but the way he said it that surprised Christine. The note of gratitude in his voice was normally missing when one thanked a servant for services rendered. Perhaps he sees Claude as more than just a servant after all…

She sat at the table while Erik and Claude finished their conversation and now watched Erik take the seat across from her.

He looks so tired.

She thought about how much strain he must be under trying to get them all to safety. It also brought to mind once again how she needed to leave him untouched to keep his mind as clear as possible. He would need all his wits about him if his plan were to succeed.

"Erik, I truly am sorry. I thought of nothing but you when I left the floor. I was so afraid that something might have happened to you. My only thought was to make sure that you were all right."

"And what Christine, would you have been able to do if I wasn't? How would you be able to help me?"

She could say nothing in response to his questions when in fact she had no idea what she would have done. She hadn't thought that far in advance.

"I see you have nothing to say to that."

She watched his expression soften to her and though she knew he was still upset, she also knew he never stayed upset with her for long and wouldn't this time either. She reached out to take his hand but stopped halfway placing her hand back on the table. She cleared her throat as she composed her thoughts.

"You are right. I had not thought about what I would, or could, do for you should I find you in need of help. However, since you did not need my help, and have apparently formed a plan with Claude, will you tell me this plan. Since this affects me as much as it does you, I should like to know where our path lies now."

She listened, as Erik outlined the basics that he and Claude had discussed. There were still some questions that had yet to be answered, but it sounded to her well thought out. Her confidence in Erik was such that she never, in her wildest imagination, expected it to fail…

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The next day showed a flurry of activity as they prepared for the flight of their lives. Erik had managed to return to the Lair, unseen, to retrieve those few items he would need to secure his plan. Upon entry, the first thing that met his eyes was the total destruction visited upon his former home. Not caused by the fire above, but by the men below as they hunted him like an animal. Everything that could be, had been smashed beyond repair. The curtains and rugs had been slashed to ribbons as if those who had done it had gone mad in their desire to eradicate the former resident. It might have been the thing that finally broke him but he had Christine. Nothing in this world could ever again hold such a precious place. Christine had overrun his heart.

It only confirmed his fear however, and spurred him to quicken their pace. He knew it would just be a matter of time before the authorities began knocking on doors in this area of the city. So far Claude reported they had maintained their search near the Opera House, but when it produced nothing, they would widen their nets. He wanted to be away long before they did that.

Claude had procured a carriage with some of Erik's funds and now housed it in the stable one block over from the inn. Erik had worked on it for some time during the late evening modifying the seat as necessary to give him the hiding place he hoped he would not need.

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When the intruder came to, a new day had dawned and passed. He could hear the nighttime sounds of the city, gazing at his surroundings through bleary eyes. When his nose started working again, he knew he was in trouble. In an attempt to stand, his hand reached out and grabbed a pile of someone's leftover dinner from the eatery he'd been dumped behind. Jerking it back, he managed to sit up, regaining enough of his senses to take in his night's bed. Quickly rising to his feet but still half sotted with drink, he clumsily made his way back to his flat, wondering all the time how he'd gotten in the garbage in the first place.

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Christine watched Erik as he sat at the table. He'd brought a stack of papers and ink back with him after his trip to the Lair and now worked at filling them with words he said should help in their flight. His face looked strained and his brow furrowed as he focused on the task at hand. She knew he was forging papers. He had explained that they would provide safe passage, no questions asked, should anyone stop them along the way. But they 'must be perfect' he'd said. She knew he was a master artist and prayed that his work would not be in vain. As she quietly set a cup of tea at his side, she realized so engrossed in his work as he was, he hadn't noticed she was even there.

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For the first time since he had devised his plan, the enormity of his situation engulfed him. Never had he needed to worry about more than himself. He was no longer responsible for his life alone. Now he was responsible for Christine's along with Claude and Antoinette's as well. Erik knew they would get only once chance at freedom and that chance depended on what he did tonight. Everything must be perfect. If he failed at even one thing, they would all pay the ultimate price.

The hour had grown late when Erik finally finished his work. He'd finished his plans for departure in the morning. They could not afford to travel at night. It would attract too much attention. The only travelers at night were those on official business or who had some kind of dire emergency, and they were scrutinized thoroughly before being allowed to continue their journey. No, it would have to be a flight made in the light of day, in front of the entire city, which none would suspect, or it would not succeed.

They would leave as the city awoke while laborers made their way to jobs they had held for who knew how long. Most likely hating the work they did. In a way Erik envied them. He would have loved to work at a job he couldn't stand. It would have meant he was alive.

Travelers often left at first light to make as many miles a day as possible. They should fit into the busy streets as if they actually belonged there. The edge of the city proper would give them their greatest trouble. There, the checkpoints were well manned and well armed. This would be the test of his skills as a forger. If all went well, they would be at least a day away before anyone suspected the papers were false, if they discovered the forgery at all and he was hoping they wouldn't be.

He had spent the previous night in the room adjoining Christine's. Though he had a bed rather than the chair again, knowing she was so close had been unsettling for him. He could feel her closeness and it brought, once again, thoughts that would be better left buried for now. Twice he had risen from the bed and reached for the door handle. One of those times he turned the knob and looked in on her as she slept. So close, and yet, so forbidden. He closed the door silently and wandered back to the bed, throwing himself on it in frustration. Would the time ever be right for them?