Oh plunge me deep in love-put out
My senses, leave me deaf and blind,
Swept by the tempest of your love,
A taper in a rushing wind.
-Sara Teasdale
As soon as I was out of sight of the big house, I hailed a cab to take me deep into the city, to the blackened remains of the Populaire. I knew I had until morning, but panic was all I knew. I had to get to him, he would die otherwise. I had the cab drop me off right in front of the ruins of the opera house, not even bothering to carefully cover my steps by stopping at a cafe or church in the area. I didn't have time.
"Here, mademoiselle? Are you sure?"
"Yes, yes. Thank you, monsieur." I threw a few coins at him, probably more than he'd earned, but I didn't stop to count. I stepped off the carriage, waited for him to leave, and ran to the tunnel. The boat was waiting for me, stopped far past the point where the light from the streetlamps trickled in. There was no music when the boat slammed against the shore, but the candles were lit.
"Master?" I called, running to the piano. The candles threw shadows around me, lighting on the debris that he'd never bothered to clean up. Papers, glass, broken chairs, it was all there. Where was the man? "Master?" I called again, my voice rising in pitch.
"I was convinced you'd come to your senses and stayed with your Vicomte, Christine." That satin voice caressed me from the shadows. I whipped my head around, but couldn't find him. Finally, he stepped out from behind a mirror, seemingly from solid stone wall. He was wiping his hands with a rag, his mask firmly in place and dressed in black. "Finally here for your lesson?"
"No." I took a deep breath, suddenly frightened of what his reaction would be. Would he blame me? He should, my mind whispered. "No, I've come… to warn you."
Before I could continue, he barked out a humorless laugh. "Of what? Is La Carlotta coming to sing me a lullaby?"
"What? No, the gendarmes! Master, tonight, I was preparing to go to Meg's premiere, and I came downstairs and heard Raoul talking to someone in his study." His face was darkening. It looked as if he were turning to stone. "They were talking about you, and that they couldn't find a trace of you. They'd decided to start the search over again, starting here!" I waited, panting, for him to react, but he didn't. He just stood there staring at me, the rag in his hands. I blinked at him. "I'm so sorry. I made Raoul promise me that he'd let you go, but…" Still, my teacher didn't react. "Did you hear me? You have to leave! They said, first thing in the morning, they'd be here!"
I stared at him, but he didn't even blink. Finally, he looked down at the rag in his hands, threw it to the side where it blended in with the rest of the debris, and turned his back on me. My head dropped in shame and I waited for him to explode, but I didn't hear screaming, pacing, or more destruction. I just heard the scrape of the piano bench and the soft sound of his playing. I looked up in confusion. "What are you doing?"
"You've missed five days of lessons. We have to see if you've neglected your practicing."
I stomped over to the piano. "Master, we don't have time for this! You have to get far away from this place!"
He looked up at me with black eyes. "Scales, Christine. Now."
"No!"
I saw a fine tremor begin in his shoulders, and his jaw clenched so tight that I heard it pop. "Scales." He played the notes, and, resigned, I sang along. If he needed this to process what I'd said, I would give it to him. Better singing than cowering. I'd seen what he was like when I surprised him and removed his mask, that day he first brought me here. I didn't want to see him like that ever again. "Breathe deeper," he commanded. "Open your voice." I tried, but the corset was cutting into me. I unclasped my cloak and let it fall around me. My teacher's eyes followed it to the ground, and then took in my new gown, all purple silk and cream lace. His stare never left me as I tried to force my breath past the lacings. His fingers never stopped playing, and I was afraid to stop singing. Finally, I was too light-headed. I couldn't breathe enough, so I signaled for him to stop. Doubled over, I panted into my knees. I heard the scrape of the bench and his retreating footsteps.
I put a hand on the piano and straightened, looking around for him, but he was nowhere in sight. Then, I felt a cold hand on my upper arm, holding me in place. I jumped away, but he held firm, standing behind me. The hand went to the back of my gown, brushing cold fingers against my bare back, jerked the silk away from my skin, and before I could react, a knife was inserted between my skin and the lacings, and ripped downward, cutting the dress from me. The corset, a new design, was close to my skin, and it, too, was cut from me. The cold air of the cavern hit my skin and made me shiver. At least, I told myself it was the cold. The breath rushed out of me, and my head cleared. His hand landed on my bare back, right between the blades, and the other went around me to land on my stomach, straightening me.
"Now, sing!" his voice hissed in my ear. My hands went to my chest, the only thing holding the gown up.
"What are you doing?" I whispered. I knew I should be angry, I knew I should be afraid. What he'd just done was mad, callous, and cruel. I turned, and met his eyes, so far above mine. They were hot with anger and passion. His shoulders were squarely set and he was breathing hard, his cool breath pulsing against my skin. What would it feel like to have it even closer? To feel that cool touch on my back again? He was mad, callous, and cruel. And God, I wanted him so badly. I knew it then, I knew that I wanted to belong to him in that moment, even as I knew that I should run. I'd always said that I wanted a man like my father, a man who was handsome, kind, and compassionate. The man in front of me was certainly not handsome, he wasn't kind or compassionate, but something in me saw the rage and fire in him, and answered it. I could see everything he'd never bothered to hide. I didn't know what it meant, but I needed him closer.
He took my face suddenly between both hands, just this side of too firm. My breath hitched in anticipation and my lips parted. His face was inches from mine as his blazing gaze flicked from my mouth to my eyes.
"I've seen this look in your eyes before, Christine." His voice was a soft growl that went straight through me. "And who are you performing for now?"
I tried to shake my head, but his hands held firm. "I wasn't performing then."
My face was thrown away as roughly as it was grabbed. If I hadn't flung my hand onto the piano, I might have fallen onto the cold stone floor instead of landing hard on the bench. The harsh notes from his beautiful instrument clanged off the walls of the cavern as I looked at him in shock to find him standing absolutely still. Only his twitching jaw betrayed his rage.
"Lie to me again and I'll make sure you never sing another note," his voice was steady.
The shock grew. "You would destroy us both!"
His laugh echoed as harshly as the notes of the piano did. "I am already destroyed." His back turned. "Go."
This wasn't my angel. As horrifically beautiful as he was, this was a man. A man I'd hurt greatly, a man from whom I'd taken everything, and a man with nothing to lose was capable of taking revenge, of hurting me like he'd hurt so many others. Hadn't I just seen the darkness that Raoul, Raoul who I'd thought was nothing but light, was capable of? Still, there was one thing I could not ignore, and that was that, angel or no, there was something in me that cared for this man. I may not be responsible for the darkness within him, but I had shunned him when he, alone and wanting, asked me to show him the light. I couldn't go, I wouldn't leave him to the wolves like that again.
I rose steadily from my seat on the bench, grounding myself with a hand against the warm wood of the piano. "No."
Without turning, he repeated, "No?"
My breath escaped in a shaky huff. "No. I won't go."
His hand shot out and swept a stack of music off the piano as he turned back to me. I flinched, but didn't move. "Go!" he shouted at me, his eyes full of rage.
"No!" I shouted back, but I could hear the tears in my voice. Knowing what he did and what he was, I still wouldn't leave him. My shout was a sob.
More music was shoved off the piano, a glass thrown to shatter against the stone wall, the bench kicked away and topped with a wooden clamor. I shut my eyes as the Phantom destroyed, or tried to destroy, his home again. But I didn't leave. Soon, his shouts faded, the banging and booms stopped. I opened my eyes to see him collapsed in the wreckage, his head in his hands, and silent sobs shaking his body. I lifted my skirts and ran to him, wading through the debris. I didn't think, just threw my arms around him and held tight. So light that I had to convince myself it wasn't my imagination, his hands landed on my back.
"I'm so lost, Christine," he whispered. I couldn't say anything, just wrapped my arms around his neck. My fingers curled in his hair as I held him close to my chest. "I've always been so lost."
"I'm here." It wasn't enough, but it's all I had.
"You don't understand." His head shook back and forth very slowly. With every pass, my ruined gown slipped down lower and soon, the rough leather of the mask skimmed against the tops of my breasts. My body trembled at the feeling. "If I don't hate you, I'll love you. I'm lost in you."
"No, master, I understand. And I'm not leaving."