A HUGE thank you to Hermine! What would I do without you? And many cyber-hugs to Penkitten for first bringing up that this chapter was nowhere near finished. The honesty of my beta readers is invaluable, so thanks Candy and Teresa for reading and re-reading, and Carol who pointed out many a mistake.

Sorry it took so long! Thanks for waiting! Please please please review this!

Ch 21

Erik sat down on the ground with his back to the dead tiger and the smell of gunpowder still making his eyes water and his nose burn. The mud and brick wall was scorching against his back, which made him pull away a moment before easing back into place. The scars were still tender, the wounds still sensitive to heat and pressure. He moved his legs and coughed out dirt which had been stirred up from him sitting on the ground.

None of it mattered. Nothing concerned him any longer. He dug his fingers into the dry earth and felt grateful for something so insignificant beneath his fingernails.

Two Indian men came around the corner with one of Joseph's friends and tied ropes around the dead animal's legs. In morbid curiosity he glanced over his shoulder and watched them haul the cat out of the cage and drag it into a nearby stucco building. Through the open windows he heard the two men talking as they began skinning the dead animal. The sound of ripping made Erik's lips curl up in a grimace. Within moments the pungent smell of blood had filled the air.

The European, Theodore, watched Erik from the corner of his eye as the men cleaned the hide. He was an ugly, broad-faced man with a nose to large for his face and wide-set blue eyes. His hair was thinning in the front. By the looks of him he was Dutch, which explained his cheap shoes.

Sickened by the man coming back to retrieve his prize, Erik rose to his feet and walked away. He had no regrets in sparing the two Bengal tigers but he had reservations about sparing Joseph and his two companions.

"He's mad," he heard Theodore say to one of the Indians commissioned to tan the hide. Erik glanced over his shoulder. The man listening to Theodore, a short, dark-skinned man with blood-covered hands, nodded to Theodore's words. "If Joseph had any sense at all he would have had him arrested. He's dangerous. A dangerous imbecile on the loose! Men like that should be locked up."

"Dangerous, yes," the little old man replied. He looked down at his blood-sticky hands and walked back into the small stucco building.

As Erik rounded the corner he stopped. What did this Dutchman know of danger or madness? They hadn't even exchanged words or properly met. Erik turned slowly, teeth gnashing together, hands balled into fists. The hairs on the back of his neck stood on end as rage consumed him. No one knew who he was. No one knew anything about him.

He stormed over, stiff-legged and hard-faced, toward the man who noticed him far too late to prepare his defense.

"Dangerous?" Erik seethed. He backed Theodore up against the building. "You think I am a madman capable of killing?"

The man swallowed hard and shook his head. "You need to calm down. The heat has clearly affected you."

"What affects me is bastards like you who don't deserve to live. If you dare say another word I will make sure it will be your last. And don't for a second believe it is an empty threat," Erik said. He grabbed Theodore by the throat and slammed him hard into the wall.

Theodore struggled, gasping and gurgling in an attempt to breath. The harder Erik pressed into his trachea the less noise Theodore made. "I've ended more worthwhile lives than yours."

The fleshy face turned from ruddy to blue the longer Erik suspended his breathing. The flailing about and fighting slowed, and for the first time Erik realized Theodore had scratched him along the neck in his struggle to breathe.

The fear in Theodore's eyes tempered Erik's murderous rage. The man was certain his life was over. At any moment Erik expected he would urinate on himself and fall to his knees.

There was no reward in killing a sniveling coward. Erik loosened his grip and stepped away knowing he had done enough to put the fear of God into this man.

"Don't you ever call me mad again. Don't you ever even think of me again or I'll strangle you," he said as he turned and walked away.

Theodore fell to his knees and retched almost immediately. The Dutchman struggled for his voice and called out to the two Indians cleaning his prized tiger skin.

As he jogged around the corner, the need to vomit hit Erik swiftly. He covered his mouth with the same hand he had just used to threaten Theodore's life and walked into the alley. Chill replaced the scorching heat he had felt all day, and the bright sunlight turned to shadows.

Nothing came from his empty stomach except acid which burned his nostrils and the back of his throat. He spit into the dirt and crouched down on his knees. He wanted to disappear, to sink into the earth and be forgotten.

Wickedness like he had never known had emerged from some hidden place in his being like a black geyser sputtering from the earth. A shiver rattled his body. He was no better than the Sultana. Erik ran his hand over his face and wondered if perhaps he was worse. She had only ordered deaths. He had put plans into work to see them realized.

"Are you alright?" he heard a woman ask.

Turning, he saw Lilian standing behind him with a lemon yellow parasol resting on her shoulder. Erik coughed up another bout of acid and wiped his mouth and nose. His throat burned from the sickness that rose from his gut.

"I'm sorry," he said as he brushed dirt over the spot where he had spit in the alley. "I'll be fine."

"Your little friend left in quite a hurry. She seemed somewhat upset."

Erik wanted to shout at Lilian for the condescending tone of her voice but stopped himself. She would not do anything malicious. In fact, from the limited conversation they had had she seemed far too decent to be married to Joseph.

Erik shaded his eyes from the sun with the back of his hand. "Where did she go?"

"Back to the Inn."

"I thought the women were enjoying lunch together?"

"She and the other woman with her were arguing. I believe Joseph went to check on her."

The last person Erik wanted looking for Corinna was Joseph DeChantel. He had worked for the DeChantel Family long enough to see Joseph's mistakes leave the estates in disgrace.

"I should go check on Corinna," Erik said as he held onto the wall and climbed to his feet.

"Oh, Joseph will take good care of her. He's always the first to offer assistance. I've never seen a man like him before."

Erik nodded in return. "Thank you, Madame DeChantel. Enjoy your lunch."

"Are you sure you'll be alright?"

"I'll be fine," he replied.

"You know, I wanted to speak with you about my cousin. She's a student in the ballet. She's living in France."

"Another time."

Lilian nodded. "If you ever need a contact for the opera, I'm sure she would help you. I'll give you her name tomorrow at supper."

Erik had forgotten their plans. "Tomorrow then," he muttered as he walked away.

Something dangerous and dark clouded his mind as he stalked toward the Inn. Erik thought about the emptied cages and the scattered firearms and realized he had one regret: he wished he had killed Joseph DeChantel. He wished he had pointed the muzzle at Joseph's face and blown away his handsome features. He wished he had drawn back the hammer and killed all three of them.

Surprisingly, he felt no remorse. He felt nothing but apathy. Erik's only reluctance was that he would have had to shoot all three of them and guns resulted in bloody, messy deaths.

I could strangle him, Erik thought. The scene that had entered his mind made him smile in sickening delight. It would be quiet and it would be easy. There would be no mess, no regret, nothing to stop him. If he had a rope, a simple two feet of rope to wrap around Joseph's fat neck he could do it. He could do it.

Erik shuddered at his impetuous thoughts. Everything he had regretted about Persia had been forgotten in the blink of an eye. One moment of anger had smothered his moral conscience., had consumed everything he was trying to become again. He wanted to be the Erik Levesque he had been before Persia, before designs of death and palaces and mazes. He wanted to be the boy scribbling plans on scraps of paper.

His lip trembled at the thought of it. He couldn't find that person anymore.

"For three years you didn't have a conscience," he muttered to himself. He paused and looked at his hands, at the deep scratches Theodore had torn into his wrist. The marks had not hurt until he looked at them. "If you ever had a conscience."

In three years he had become wealthy. He had made a small fortune on his own while working for the Sultan. There had been dinners with beautiful woman and dancing in the middle of the banquet halls. Erik had gone to bed on many a night and dreamt of hips sliding back and forth, navels with small jewels glimmering in the candlelight. He had lived in the shadow of the Sultan, knowing pleasure but never experiencing it.

There would be no more living in any man's shadow. He would do as he wanted when he felt so inclined. As Erik neared the front door of the Inn there was only one concern on his mind.

He was in charge of looking after Corinna. He would not disappoint her father. The last thing he had promised Mr. Desai still buzzed in his mind as he stared at the red door. It would be the last order he would take from another man.

Hands balled into fists, Erik walked up the stairs.

Joseph had better keep his filthy hands off of Corinna or there would be hell to pay.

There was more than merely the need to protect Corinna from harm. Erik wanted desperately to speak with her before he did anything or saw anyone else. He had nearly choked a man he didn't know. As he walked up the wooden stairs and stood on the porch the situation hit him hard. His hands felt cold and clammy but he was sweating profusely.

The sense of guilt that had followed his vile thoughts was welcomed. He could still be redeemed. He had not fallen so far into hell that he couldn't be retrieved.

Anisha was walking out of her room when Erik was walking into the Inn. By the look on her face she seemed surprised to see him.

"Have you seen Corinna?" he panted.

"Am I her wet nurse?"

Erik exhaled and ran his tongue along the inside of his mouth. "Quit being snide. Have you seen her or not?"

Anisha rolled her eyes. "She's in her room as far as I know. She and Ursula walk back and forth through here like cattle."

Erik sighed. Knowing that Corinna was safe in her room subdued his burst of anger though he was irritated by Anisha's response. "Was it just the two of them?"

Anisha left the door open behind her and crossed her arms. "Were you expecting someone else to join them?"

Erik shook his head. "I need to check on her."

He looked away from Anisha and stared at the doors at the top of the stairs. He realized that he had completely lost track of the time. A quick glance at his pocket watch showed he had forgotten to wind it that the morning.

"Do you have the time?" he asked.

Anisha looked down the hallway. She walked three doors down and knocked. To Erik's surprise, Joseph walked out. He brushed a kiss past Anisha's cheek but she pushed him away and mumbled that Erik was there as well.

The moment the two men glanced at one another an uncomfortable silence settled into the hall. Joseph looked away first.

"It's just past two," Anisha said as she turned to face Erik. A slight smiled pulled at the corners of her lips. "Have a moment to spare? I would really appreciate seeing what you have planned for my home."

Erik switched his gaze back to Joseph and thought of poor, sweet Lilian enjoying lunch with her friends. By the wrinkled condition of Joseph's shirt Erik knew exactly what the lecherous beast had been up to.

In his heart, he knew he should have said no. He should have excused himself and been on his way. Corinna expected him for tea in an hour. He would not disappoint her. He needed to speak with her, especially after what had happened with the Dutchman.

"I believe I do have a moment to spare," Erik said with a dark grin. "I'll meet you in the outdoor café in ten minutes."

"Meet me in the hall and we shall walk together."

Erik nodded. "Fine."

He felt a distinct rise of satisfaction in knowing he could take what he wanted. Especially from Joseph.

"Monsieur DeChantel," Erik called out.

Joseph looked at him. For the first time Joseph looked slightly embarrassed to have been caught in the company of another woman.

"I believe your wife is looking for you," Erik said before he grasped the banister and went on his way.

Joseph stammered. As he reached the top of the stairs, Erik heard him trying to explain himself to Anisha. He stood before Corinna and Ursulas's door and smirked. It was good to hold the upper hand. Very good indeed.