A/N: this chapter has some sexually explicit passages.

Chapter 40 Betrayal

Erik stepped back, and leaned against the door as he watched Jade slowly rise from her bed. The room was unlit except for the thin line of light shining beneath the door. As she groped through the wardrobe, the swishing sound of fabric sliding against wood caused a tingling sensation in his hands. With a sleight of hand, he unlocked the door and slipped away.

He stood in the storeroom, and waited for her.

The darkness in her room had hidden his face, as he had intended. His turbulent emotions were rushing across it. Her morning toilette was a perfect respite that would give him time to rein in his feelings.

The light sound of footsteps heralded her arrival, and his eyes swiveled to the door. Quickly, he froze his face into an inscrutable expression as the door swung open.

Jade floated towards him with a simple grace that tugged at his heart. She tipped her chin up, and stared steadily into his eyes. There was a luminous quality to them, as if the heavens had planted a light in their depths. Her bold, innocent gaze slipped past his guarded reserve, and went straight to his heart.

She has a sweet look of new expectations, he mused. He delayed their departure for a moment in order to soak in her glow.

The passage door slid open, and Jade stepped past him. Lifting her into his arms, he proceeded to the hidden lake.

As they descended the corridor, he pressed her to his chest, and restrained an urge to crush her to him. It was the kind of impulse that a young child has as it holds a newborn puppy, as if its tender beauty could be absorbed by an innocent act of violence. The odor of her hair wafted up, and teased him with smells from the world above—sweet hay, perfumes, the acrid soot of Paris, and the scent of his rival. She hadn't bathed the previous day, and each contact had left its nuance upon her. She was a kaleidoscope of fragrances, a reminder of the world he was stealing her from.

For his recitation, Erik chose a passage from Dante's work, The Inferno. He felt that the material was chillingly apropos. His current inner turmoil mirrored the images of tormented souls who eternally reached for unattainable pleasures that led them to misery and despair.

On reaching the lake, he carefully placed her into the boat, and adroitly followed. Once they were afloat, he immediately began to sing to her. It was a melody that he had often heard in Persia—a foreign song with poetic sounding words. Jade's eyes fixed upon his as he mouthed the strange tune, which banished her fear. Entranced by his voice, she gave him her utmost attention as her eyes glittered in the fragile light.

Tonight she trusts me with her life, he thought wryly. Last night, she refused my inquiry about her lost love.

Once they arrived, he carried her from the lake to her bedroom, and laid her on the bed. Jade innocently stared up at him and waited. Stepping back a few steps, he said in a cool voice, "It is late, my dear. We will talk in the morning." With a flick of his cape he turned and left.

Erik shut the door, walked several steps down the hall, and then waited. Minutes later, he returned to the thick oak door, and pressed his ear against it as he listened for a signal that she was still awake. There was only silence.

She was a heavy sleeper, and slept as soundly as a child. He wondered, if he were to scoop her up while she slept, how long would it be before she became aware of his presence?

Ten minutes passed, and he reached for the doorknob. Wrapping his long fingers around its smooth, metallic surface, he twisted it until it turned.

Then he froze. Slowly, he released the knob, and backed away from the door as his mind's eye looked through it to the bed beyond. Abruptly, he returned to the front room. Staring into its recesses, he noted that everything was as he had left it earlier that evening. It had been immaculately cleaned and prepared for her visit.

The large room shimmered in waves of candlelight. His eyes rested on each object, which echoed Jade's presence. The couch, the worktable, the bookcases, the divan, all of them had her mark. To look at the couch was to see the black Spanish shawl that touched her shoulders as she rested against the green satin upholstery. The finely polished table, where they dined, held the reflection of her small hands as she passed food to him.

Erik sat at his worktable, and swept aside the papers. Leaning on his elbows, he thrust his long fingers through his hair, and meditated on his quandary. This evening, when he had seen her in his rival's arms, a devouring beast had awoken in him. Now, he yearned for her body and for the act of completion.

Last night, it had been simple. She had touched him, and they had both felt the spark. As she stood pressed against the couch, her body had given away her suppressed excitement. He had seen desire in her eyes.

But tonight, everything had changed. His confidence had been shaken as he saw her cling to that man. The trust that she gave to another should have been his. She had betrayed him.

Groaning, he pressed his hands against his skull to still his thoughts. Longing, frustration, anger, and doubt twisted inside of him.

He remembered the look she gave him less than an hour ago as they stood together in the storeroom. It had said volumes. She was welcoming him into her life as a friend.

Friendship and nothing more, he thought bitterly.

He hit the table with his fist causing the inkwell to skitter to the edge. God was laughing at him again. And what a joke it was! He had changed his tactics, and had abandoned impulsiveness and madness to win her. He had remained a gentleman as he had promised. And this was his prize—her good-natured regard.

Once again, he had been thwarted in love, and assigned the secondary role of friend, and teacher.

No! his mind roared.

Staring down at his trembling hands, he considered their power.

Countless times Erik had watched from the shadows and the mirrors of the opera house as its denizens played their games of lovemaking. He had seen it all, and was well schooled in the art of physical love. He knew he would please a woman if he could capture her heart.

His head lifted, and he stared through the walls. It would be easy to enter her room, and lie with her. He could pull her out of her sleep with his hands and lips. She would awaken from the pleasure of his mouth suckling her breasts, and then he would guide her to greater intimacies. He had touched her before in her sleep and she had responded. Wasn't that a sign that she was ready for him? The image of her lying beneath him stiffened his erection.

She sleeps very deeply. How long could I touch her before she realized that she was no longer in a dream? The thought of her moaning with pleasure as he brought her to consciousness caused his lips to open in a slow smile.

Like a starving wolf, he rose from the table, and took several steps in the direction of her room. Then he stopped.

I can't go to her like this, he suddenly realized. His reason was rapidly disappearing. He was at the brink of losing control. If he touched her, he would dive into her flesh and lose himself completely. And without her inviting him to her bed, he risked everything for the sake of one night of pleasure.

Shaking his head, he stepped back, and grasped the table in an effort to tame his throbbing excitement. It was the mingling of their souls that he ultimately needed. After waiting all these years for another's touch, he would settle for no less.

Striding to the organ, he flung himself down. Then he stretched out his hands, and struck the keys, causing a gut wrenching sound to burst from the sleeping instrument. The single note covered the room, and penetrated the far reaches of his home.

While he played, he thought of what had been denied him. There was Christine and her final choice. Then the angry, weary face of his mother appeared—the woman who would neither touch nor love him. A multitude of faces followed—the feminine eyes of strangers, their soft lips. An endless stream of desirable women paraded before him. All were beyond his grasp, forever dangling in front of him, and tempting his senses. Lastly, there was Jade whose elusive spirit teased him with her proximity.

The love-starved child inside of him joined the raging man, and the music that they created was a terrible thing. The furious melody punished the faces in his mind. Then it snaked out, and filled his home until it seemed that the walls themselves would bleed from it.

The world had always rejected and despised him. Now his hatred rolled out from beneath his fingers, and wiped clean his doubts. He was strong again, without hesitation or fear. And if Jade heard it and trembled from its force, then let her bolt her door! She had dallied with the Opera Ghost and would suffer the consequences.

The music purged his soul as he played into the night.

Finally, he was finished. Standing up from the organ, he held onto its solid mass as he straightened his stiff limbs. He was utterly drained. The pain and anger were gone. Once again, he was a rational man.

Rubbing his cramped fingers, he glanced in the direction of her bedroom. She may have been frightened by the intensity of my music, he considered ruefully. I will go to her and explain. He was now calm enough to take her into his arms. They would talk.

Slowly, he walked to the hall outside of her room, and stood by her door. Carefully, he turned the knob. To his surprise, the door swung open. He had assumed that she would have bolted it against the onslaught of music. She was braver than he had expected.

Glancing at the bed, he realized that the room was empty.

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After Erik left her room, Jade sat up in bed and stared at the dresser for a moment. She had no way of knowing exactly what time it was, although the empty halls of the opera house indicated that it was still before dawn. Looking down at her clothes, she knew she should change before sleeping. But her drinking bout had left her feeling pleasantly lazy. So instead, she lay back on the bed and carelessly pulled the covers over herself.

Turning on her back, she stared up at the canopy and smiled. Erik would be at breakfast this morning, and they would have the entire day to spend together after she attended mass. Of course, he would bring her back here, and then they would talk and dine together.

She shut her eyes and thought of his cool gaze. Something is troubling him, she mulled. As he had carried her to the cavern she had noticed how tightly he had held her. And in the boat, he lacked the usual solicitous concern that he offered her whenever they crossed the lake. He had looked right through her. Then there was his coolness as he left her room.

It is late, and he probably remembers the unfortunate events of last night, she reasoned. Erik was not a light-hearted man, and she was beginning to understand that certain emotional events cut him to the quick.

Today will be different, she mused as she smiled softly. Things had changed between them. It was no longer necessary to hide her new feelings for him.

With that thought, she relaxed and fell asleep.

The sound of a roaring train jarred her awake. Startled, she leapt out of bed, and hit her head on the small table that was adjacent to it. Stunned, she lay on the floor for a few moments as she tried to get her bearings. Then groggily looking around, Jade pulled herself up and sat on the edge of the bed.

The organ music was ramming the walls and door of the room. Dumbly, she stared at the door, and wondered why he was playing with such maniacal frenzy.

Grabbing an armful of blankets, she walked to the bathroom and shut the door, where she tried to escape the music. However, the volume was only partially muted, and the disturbing melody reverberated against the room's tiles. Huddled on the bathroom floor, she waited for it to end.

The assault continued. As she tried to block it out, the melody ripped her mind and displaced her own music.

It was a horrific piece. The hatred was palpable, and it embedded itself into her body. In response, her muscles began to spasm. Her womb contracted and throbbed with a nasty feeling as if something was groping her from the inside out. Then the melody snaked through her breasts as her chest tightened, making it difficult for her to breathe.

The invasion brought back an ugly memory. Months ago, when Jade had been traveling in the provinces, she had been cornered by two men in a field. Their intentions had been clear—they had planned to rape her. They had chosen a place far from the village, so that there was no one to hear her cries. Utterly alone, she watched as they approached with their leering grins, and cold, deadly eyes. Knowing that she had only one chance, she had waited for the right moment before defending herself. Then she had lunged at the nearest man with her knife, and stabbed him in the chest. The second man had watched with astonishment as his companion bled out. A moment later, he had charged her. He hadn't expected the blow to his groin, and the subsequent slicing of his throat. Jade stared down at the two men, both who appeared to be dying, and then fled.

This assault was even more terrifying than the one before because it was coming from someone whom she trusted. As she curled into a ball on the marble floor, she again felt cornered. Only this time, she had nothing to defend herself with.

She gasped for air as she realized that it wasn't a stranger who was raping her. It was Erik.

After an interminable amount of time, the music showed no sign of abating. In desperation, she decided to leave her shelter. Jade slowly opened the door to her room and stepped out. Automatically, she put her hands over her ears to protect them from the thundering sound. At the door to the front room, she stopped, and stared out at the spectacle before her.

Erik was coiled at the organ striking the keys with an intensity that gave him the air of one possessed. In a blur, she saw his form moving up and down as he murderously pummeled the instrument.

A wave of nausea hit her as she felt the vibrations crawling under her skin like a host of squirming insects. Clenching her fists, she headed for the outside door while she pushed back that hollow, empty feeling that signaled an oncoming fainting spell. There was nothing to hold on to as she crossed that endless expanse. She blindly stumbled ahead.

Dear God, she thought, please don't let him see me.

Finally, she touched the wooden door. Grasping the handle, she pulled it open and the cavern's moist air hit her face. She slid out of the room and shut the door behind her. Then she staggered forward until the nausea and dizziness overtook her.

When she awoke, she was lying on her side with a pool of vomit next to her face. It was pitch black in the cavern, and silent. Slowly, she pushed herself up on to wobbly legs, and followed the slope to the lake below. After a few minutes, she found the boat, and lit the lantern.

The soft light brushed the still, shiny water. Staring at the narrow craft for a few minutes, she finally stepped inside, and pushed it away from the shore. With the paddle, she guided the boat in the direction that they always traveled from.

A little later, she glanced at her bloodied hands, and noticed the throbbing sting in her face. It dawned on her that she must have fallen against the sharp rocks of the cavern floor. Ignoring the pain, she determinedly paddled the craft along the lake. The amber lantern bobbed on its stand as it lit the water several yards in front of the boat.

It wasn't until she was well on her way that she realized that her usual terror was absent. She was in the middle of the underground lake, unsure of where she was going, and yet felt oddly calm, and collected.

What happened to me? she thought as she peered through the darkness. Was it the knowledge that she was leaving a greater terror behind that had suddenly released her from her fear? Whatever the reason, she breathed a sigh of relief, and continued to search for the shore.

When the boat hit the rocky ledge, she stepped out, and dragged it out of the water. For the first time since she had left his home, she thought of Erik. She had his boat, and he was trapped on the opposite shore.

Shrugging, she quickly turned, and began her search for the passage that would take her above. He's resourceful, she thought. He either has another boat or another way to get around the lake. What I need to do now is to get away as fast as I can. He will be angry with me when he finds that I've escaped.

Escaped. As she hunted for the passage, she pushed down her feelings of fear and grief over his betrayal.

After a few minutes, she found a passage and began her journey back to the opera house. As she walked up the corridor, she deeply regretted her previous plan of having Erik blindfold, and distract her as he carried her to his home. She had no idea which way to go.

Jade stopped and rested her back against the wall. As she saw it, she had two choices. She could systematically explore the passages and hope that it would get her out before he found her. Or, she could follow her intuition, and let it lead her. The risk with the latter choice was that in allowing her mind to settle into a relaxed state, she could easily fall into traps that he might have set. The thought of breaking a leg, or worse yet, her neck, sent a chill through her.

Shutting her eyes, she said a prayer and waited. After a few minutes, a tingling began on the right side of her face. At first, she thought it was simply the cool air irritating her wounds but then realized that it was something else. Inhaling deeply, she turned and followed the sensation.

Evidently her plan to shield Erik from discovery hadn't been as fool proof as she had intended. A blindfold and a velvety voice hadn't deceived her excellent memory. Jade walked the dusty corridors, and followed vague feelings that prompted her to turn to the left, and at other times, to the right.

When she found the chamber that they had sat in on opening night, she felt relieved. She knew how many steps it took to go from there to the storeroom. Retracing her steps, she arrived at a section of the wall. Examining that cool, rough surface, for a break in its continuity, she found a depression. Moments later, she was in the storeroom. After another minute of pressing various points on the doorframe, the door closed behind her.

Dashing back to her room, Jade crossed the empty corridors and arrived at her door. She quickly entered, and bolted it behind her. Moistening a cloth, she stood in front of the mirror, and studied the damage to her face as she washed off the dried blood. Then she went to the wardrobe, and pulled out her travel bags.

After packing everything that she owned, she left her room.

On the street in front of the opera house, she hailed a cab. Then she settled back into the seat, and emptily stared out the window.

It was still dark outside. The nights were growing longer as winter approached. One month more and it'll be winter, she thought dully. It was November twenty first. Where will I be when it arrives?

Shortly after the cab entered the third arrondissement, she signaled the driver to stop. A half hour later, Jade took another cab and continued eastward.

When the cab stopped, Jade stepped out and stared at the soot grimed tenement house that was surrounded by similar buildings. The dirty, narrow streets of that poor, eastside arrondissement had a dank smell. Her eyes swept the patches of cloud-laden sky that showed the first light of day. Lifting her chin, she walked through a door into the dismal hall beyond.

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After searching throughout his home for her, Erik lit a lantern and went to the boat. He stared in disbelief at the empty shore, and then turned his gaze to the blackness that shrouded the lake.

How did she find the courage? he pondered.

Opening a second door to his home, he entered the shop that contained maintenance tools and his spare boat. After checking it, he launched the small craft, and propelled it across the lake.

On arriving at the opposite shore, he noted the silhouette of the missing boat. Exiting his craft, he sprinted to the passage.

It is fortunate that I disabled the traps weeks ago, he mulled as he silently raced along the corridors. Although Jade had told him that she did not want to know exactly how to get to his home, he had suspected that if an emergency arose, she would find a way to get into the passages. He couldn't risk her being harmed as she wandered through them.

And now, she was blindly navigating the corridors as she ran from him.

Erik clenched his jaw as he analyzed his stupidity. He should never have brought her to his home tonight. The music must have terrified her if she was desperate enough to cross the lake alone. He was still amazed that she'd been able to do it. He had to find her, and reassure her.

An hour later, he had combed all possible routes. There was no sign of her. Traveling to the staff quarters, he stood behind the mirror, and paused before he entered. The room was dark. By his estimation, it was seven thirty in the morning. It she had reentered the building, she would probably be asleep in her bed. He could already hear the stirring of others in the area. If he wished to see her, he would need to enter her room through the mirror.

It was important that he keep that entrance a secret. As long as she was ignorant of it, he had access to her. Erik listened carefully for sounds from within. When he heard nothing, he quietly opened the mirror.

It took only a second for him to realize that something was wrong. The faint light showed the wardrobe door ajar and the dresser drawers open. He lit a candle and inspected the room. She had taken everything, including the cloak and gown that he had given her.

I should be grateful for that, he thought ruefully. It meant that the bridge between them had not been irreparably damaged.

Immediately, he traveled to the outdoors, where he hailed a cab. Erik hated to go out in the daylight without the cover of inclement weather, but he had no choice.

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It was still early enough on Sunday morning that Jules Bernard had not yet left for mass with his family. He was sitting at breakfast when his oldest son brought Erik to the kitchen. Glancing up at him, Jules quickly led him to his study, and quietly shut the door. Then he offered the tall man a chair.

"How can I help you, Erik?" he asked calmly. It was a rare event when Erik came to his home. In all the years of their association, it had occurred no more than a half dozen times.

"I need your help, Jules," Erik replied firmly as he slid into the chair.

Jules eyed him and said nothing. After many years of dealing with Erik, he had learned something about the man, in spite of his propensity to hide his feelings. At this moment, Erik's coiled energy was palpable. Something serious was afoot.

The two men stared across at each other for a long moment. Then Jules reached for a pen and paper and waited for his instructions.

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The room that the older woman led Jade to was on the fourth floor of the five story building. It was small, dingy, and without heat. There was a small window that was brown from years of grime. The mattress that lay on rusted springs was old and still had the odors of the previous tenant. Jade paid the woman a week's rent, and then locked the door behind her.

With quiet determination, she unpacked her clothes and set them in the dresser. When she was finished, she spread several newspapers on the mattress, and her dark blue cloak over them. Then she covered herself with the cashmere cloak. After staring up at the water stains on the ceiling for several minutes, she finally shut her eyes and tried to sleep. She was exhausted, and badly needed the rest.

However, it evaded her and the thoughts poured in. What happened? She asked herself. Was Erik that unstable that her pulling away from him the previous night had provoked an attack upon her?

She thought of the music, and shuddered. It had been terrifying. His music always had a profound effect on her. In some ways, it was as powerful as her own. What had occurred was an overwhelming invasion of her senses. And he had done it deliberately, to hurt her. He knew that she was deeply affected by his music for he had used it to erase her fears when they crossed the lake.

He knew what he was doing, she thought as she opened her eyes wide. Then she started to cry.

Turning her head to the side, her tears soaked into the cloak. After a bout of quiet grieving, she stared blankly at the dirty window. The morning light could barely be seen through its brownish panes.

She hadn't dared to go to Jean and Manette's. They would have offered her their guest room, and then she would have had to explain why she needed to refuse. It was too risky to stay there. Erik would find her, and in his efforts to get to her, he might harm her friends. It was better to stay here, until she knew what she was to do next. Then, if he found her, no one else would be harmed.

If? she thought as she furrowed her brow. If he chose to pursue her, he would certainly find her. As long as she went back and forth to the opera house, she couldn't keep her location a secret. And she needed to work there until she could find other employment.

Regretfully, she now knew that she must leave the opera house behind. As long as she was in his domain, he would have complete access to her.

Jade thought of the horses, the music, and the multitude of artists that made up the Opera Populaire. The opulent splendor of its architecture coupled with it enormous breadth—it had been the most exciting place of her life. And beneath it all was a hidden world of beauty and magic, ruled by a man who had all the possibilities of life at his fingertips. His generosity, and kindness had been regal. She had felt like a princess in his home.

Perhaps he will tire of me and turn to another, she considered. With that thought, the tears began anew. To never be able to see his face again, or his tall, imposing figure was breaking her heart. At that moment, she didn't know what hurt the most—losing him, or being with him, and having him injure her because of his contempt for her.

Jade turned on her side and gazed at the green gown that hung over the chair. She hadn't wanted to leave it behind for someone else to find. He had given it to her in good faith, and she would keep it. But she seriously doubted that she would ever wear it again.

Pulling the cloak around her, she shut her eyes and tried to sleep.

A/N: dear readers, please don't shoot me! My characters made me write this chapter. They said to me, "what's a phanphiction without Erik having at least one meltdown?" So, I had to obey. I hope you didn't mind the angst too much. A little angst sometimes makes romance that much sweeter.