A/N: Thank you all for your great reviews. Please continue to read. Erik is on vacation for awhile and is letting me dive into some other stories that I've been trying to write. Trust me, I'm way ahead of schedule on this one. So without further ado, here is the new chapter. Read and review as always. Tell everyone you know about this story!
The sun is setting. Let our story begin…
Chapter 6 – Unwanted Company
Paris – 1870
"Why deny me? Christine, we have known each other all of our lives."
"Things are different now…"
How he wanted to smash his hand through the glass. Rage engulfed him.
'Who the hell does this boy think he is!'
Erik watched as the Vicomte knelt in front of 'his' Angel. She had been magnificent in her performance tonight. But access to Box Five had been denied to him. The new patron had occupied his normal spot while he lurked beneath the opera house, listening to his Christine sing with grace.
His rose had never left her touch. She still clutched it in her hand.
'Petals…silk, like her hair…'
The boy wanted her affections. Could she deny him?
"Come with me to supper."
"I cannot. My Angel of Music wants me to rehearse."
"Your Angel of Music is only a dream – a fantasy."
"No, Raoul…he's real. He is flesh and blood."
Erik watched as the boy stood and smiled down at his Angel. His blood was boiling – his fists clenched at his sides.
"Come with me to supper, Christine."
"But, Raoul…"
"No buts. I will send for my carriage. Ten minutes, Little Lotte."
Christine stood as the door shut behind Raoul. It was all she could to, to hold back a sob. Her Angel of Music would not stand for what had just happened. If he saw…
She watched as one by one the candles flickered and died. Her room grew cold and dark.
"Insolent boy…this slave of fashion…basking in your glory!"
He let his voice surround her – filling her with music. The boy's presence would not go unpunished.
"Ignorant fool…this brave, young suitor…sharing in my triumph!"
He watched her shudder in fear. Soon she would tremble beneath his passionate touch and not from fear…
Christine began walking toward the mirror…"Angel, I hear you! Speak…I listen…"
"Speak…I listen…sometimes…" Her smile turned his heart to stone. All she wanted was to possess his soul. His body was just a stepping stone to gaining full control.
"Please…" He voice broke with a plea. He had no dignity left – it had fled along with every ounce of pride he had.
"Soon, my love." She touched his flesh with her fingernails – making them dance as if they were spiders crawling over his body. His body bucked beneath her, the tension beginning to mount. "There he is."
He grimaced, knowing she got the reaction out of him that she had wanted. "No, this is not the man…"
"You are not a man. You are my slave. There is a definite distinction." Her fingernails scraped across his skin, causing him to moan. "I can bring you pleasure or pain. The choice is yours."
This time his body bucked from pain. Her fingernail had pierced his skin. It felt like a dagger which had not been sharpened. It was dull like the ache in his heart.
"You still long for her," she hissed into his ear. "In time, you will leave her to the past. I am your future. But the pain…oh, the pain, my love, is in the present."
He screamed in agony as she laughed. The pain he felt was joined by her kisses on his temple which she slowly began trailing over every inch of his exposed flesh.
"Pain is fleeting. But love…" Her lips hovered over his. "…is absolute."
Persia – 1854
"But love…is absolute…"
The slave girl laughed as she turned into his embrace. "Love?"
"You don't believe in it?"
"It doesn't exist within the palace walls. Inside there is only lies, deceit, and betrayal. I have experienced all of them."
"I did not always live within these palace walls."
The slave girl looked at him with emerald eyes that sparkled like the jewel adorning her naval.
"You are a stranger to me."
"I can be your friend."
"You want something more than that," she sighed as his hand caressed her exposed skin. "I can see it in your eyes."
"My eyes tell you nothing."
"You would be surprised." She stared deep into his eyes, as if searching for something deep within him. "Your soul is tortured."
"I could have told you that."
"Tortured not by whatever lies behind your mask…" She said as she gently caressed his unmarred cheek. She frowned as she continued. "…but what lies within your heart."
