Just a little note. Thanks to all who reviewed! Sorry about not updating for a long, looonng while, but if you want to know the full story go check out my profile. The point is I'm back and I promise there will be more frequent updates. Also, sorry about the length of the chapters but you will be happy to know that more often than not I post more than one chapter at a time.

Please, read and review, and hey just for fun try to guess what Angelique's secret is. Why does she were a mask? If you guess right I'll give you ummm....a cookie! Yum!

It was a large estate for being so close to the city, a pleasant little house with a few acres of land and a garden. Christine had always been fond of flowers. Once upon a time Erik had taken note of this fact and placed fresh flowers in her room that he kept for her. They had to be replaced every few days. Flowers do not bloom very well underground. He thought.

It would have been nothing to ascend the wall and sneak into their bedroom, through the wide glass window, but he was just so damn tired of that. Still, it would no do for him to simply knock on the door like a normal person. He stood a shadow amongst shadows pondering his predicament. The stars above winked in and out of sight, completely oblivious to the world below. The moon was out that night, and shone down on the little garden onto beds of small purple and white flowers. There was a slight breeze, just enough to stir his cloak slightly and carry the musty pleasant smell of earth and spring rain to his nose. All along the street, people were in their houses, lights out, tucked safely in their beds. Tomorrow they would wake up and start another day in their blessedly ordinary lives. "It is not for me." He thought clearing his head of such daydreams. "It shall never be."

There was a rustle in the bushes behind him. Without seeming to move the Punjab lasso was in his hand. It would not do for there to be unknown persons lurking in Christine's garden, not counting him of course.

"Erik, what is this place?"

Erik remained facing the house, silently tucking away his weapon while attempting to suppress his anger. "Angelique, I thought I told you to stay home."

"It's scary in that house alone," A little white lie, but believable, "I thought it would be nice to go out for a walk with you."

"You were mistaken. I've business to take care of tonight. Now…go home."

"But, really Erik it's such a pretty night and-"

"Go!" Erik said; whirling around to face her for the first time since the conversation had began. There was something in his eyes, something Angelique had never seen before, that frightened her and moved her to obey. Without another word, she disappeared silently out of sight.

Perhaps it had been a little harsh, but his tone of command achieved the desired results. Somehow his confrontation with Angelique had steadied his resolve. With simple grace, he scaled the wall to the bedroom suite, the room which Christine and Raoul no doubt shared nightly. Erik peered through the delicate glass of the French door windows. Raoul was stretched out, eyes closed, rather pathetically upon an ancient oak bed. Erik could tell by the beads of sweat running down his forehead that he was running a dangerously high temperature. Christine sat in a plush chair beside him holding his hand and looking on with obvious concern.

Quietly Erik entered the room. "He doesn't look that bad." At the sound of his voice Christine whirled in her chair to face him, "Erik?" Raoul winced and moaned in his sleep. Erik smirked. Christine wiped away a bead of sweat that had formed on Raoul's brow. "How did you find out?"

"I read all about it in a newspaper a few days ago. The paper said he would make a full recovery, but by the look of him I'd say they were misinformed"

"His family didn't want this to get out, bad enough he married me. Best to avoid more scandal for the Chagney family."

The room was silent, but for the ticking of an old grandfather clock somewhere in the room beside them. Erik kept his distance from Christine, though every inch of him longed to be near her, to comfort her. Perhaps it had been a mistake to come here, to see them together in their house. It made everything seem more final. There was nothing he could say; nothing either of them could say. So they remained silent staring at the one thing that had come between them fight for his life.

Somewhere in Paris under sputtering lamplight, Angelique was making her way back to the opera house. It was unusually cold for the season and she struggled to keep herself warm, wrapping her cloak more securely around her. There were shops and boutiques on either side of her and she stopped often to view the merchandise in the windows. A beautiful blue dress was draped over a lifeless manikin. She traced the outline of the garment with her finger on the cold glass and at that moment it occurred to her that she could not remember the last time she had been in a shop, or been above ground during the day. She hadn't realized the things he had been missing living with Erik. The air, and the flowers, and the birds and the sunshine. Birds don't sing at night. She could only imagine what she looked like, pale and sickly and hardly alive. The thought disgusted her. Perhaps she could convince Erik to let her see one of the Operas.

Almost too soon the opera house came into sight. She sighed not ready to return to the world below.

"Hello lady," Said and unfamiliar voice behind her.

Angelique whirled around to face a roughly dressed gentleman. Frankly she was surprised he had seen her. She had been careful to stay in the shadows on off chance that anyone would be out at this time of night.

"Where are you going, lady, this late. Perhaps you would like some company, yes?"

"No thank you."

"O, but you have stolen my heart, sweet lady."

The man moved closer, and Angelique took a step back.

"You've not seen my face." The hood that she had pulled down low remained in place.

"Yes, but love is blind and I am in love. Why do you hide in the shadows? Let me walk with you so that I may look upon your face."

She could smell the alcohol on his breath. He took another step forward, forcing Angelique into the light of the lamps above. The man's eyes opened wide in shocked recognition. Angelique turned to run, but the brute caught her wrist and held it in a nasty grip. "Do you know how much you are worth? I knew the man you killed. I know your secret. I know why you wear that mask to hide your face. Shall I prove it? The reason you wear that damned mask is –ughk!"

The man's head was yanked out of the light for a moment and then the hand that gripped her wrist fell limp and the man slumped to the ground. Erik bent down over the dead man to retrieve his lasso. He stood and tucked it calmly back into its assigned hiding place. "I had a feeling I would have to use that tonight." Angelique covered her mouth with her hand to keep from screaming. Erik sighed before bending down again to lift the body effortlessly and drape it over his shoulder. It was the first time in many years that anyone had witnessed Erik make a kill. Angelique was horrified "Go home now, I'll take care of this." Angelique stood frozen to the spot, eyes wide. She couldn't believe the thing flung over Erik's shoulder had been alive only a moment ago, threatening her life. The man's eyes were wide in shock and, Angelique thought, just a bit of accusation. "Is something wrong?" Said the lifeless body. "Angelique?" No, it was Erik who had spoken; the other man was most certainly dead. Dead…

For a moment a speck of light hung suspended in a pair of almond eyes, something passed over them and just as quickly the speck of light was gone but in it's place, a memory:

Blood.

The scent of blood hung sharp and metallic in the air. There was blood everywhere; on the ground and spattered on the brick wall.

A thought: One person's body should not hold that much blood.

Nearby she can hear someone breathing hard. It's her breath. She can feel it coming in quick tight gasps.

"You bitch!"

She turns.

There is a man; a beautiful blonde haired man clutches his side. Blood pours steadily through his fingers. He leans against the brick wall for support. He would look like an angel but for the scowl of pain on his face. Suddenly, one of his legs buckles and with a cry he falls to one knee. "You stupid bitch!"

She takes a step back from the angelic man and almost stumbles backwards over a body. She remembers thinking he's dead. And suddenly the knife that she had been holding all along falls from her hand to the floor with a clatter. She hears the sound of feet running in her direction.

'They're coming!' something inside her screams, 'they've heard him. Run!'

Somehow she sees the scene form above. In a dark remote ally lies a dead man spread out awkwardly in a pool of blood, another struggles to stand while not far away in the main road a group of men runs towards the ghastly scene. Above it all she watches from a birds eye view.

She sees herself run.

"Angelique?" Erik's voice grabbed her and pulled her out of her dark reverie. The present became tangible once more. There was Erik standing in front of her, concern painted visibly across the exposed side of his face. "It's on my conscience." He said in soft tones, putting a hand on her shoulder to reassure her. "You did nothing, go home." Without a word, Angelique turned and made her way home.