Gerry tonight! Gerry tonight! Yeah!!! I need this tonight, I had to cancel my trip to Scotland in July - finances just will not allow me to go. I was going there for the GB(dot)net convention - and I had been planning this for almost a year; but life has a way of messing up the best laid plans!! So, after a few tears, my boss (whom I like very much) turning in his resignation, and my son losing his job - yesterday was just not a good day!!

Therefore, I need me some Gerry tonight!!

I know, that does not sound very good, but it's my story and I'm stickin' to it!!

Just a few (about five) more chapters until they meet face to face - but don't ya love the anticipation!!

DARK SIDE OF THE GLASS

CHAPTER 15

Thankfully, Erik slept the whole two-hour trip across the Channel. He had made sure he planned it that way. The last thing he needed was to be grossly sick in front of everyone.

He had left D'Ombre behind, and would send for him later – if need be. For now, he was well cared for in the stables of the opera house.

Tarrah came down and woke him up as the ship was docking and Erik straightened himself and prepared to step back on French territory. His stomach was knotting and his hands were sweating inside his leather gloves, even though he knew there was nothing for him to worry about – but old habits die hard.

He buried himself inside his cape and pulled his fedora over his eyes, trying to attract as little attention to himself as possible. The train station was quite crowded, but Erik was amazed that so few people seemed to be concerned with his presence.

"Erik, will ye stop – yer actin' like a vampire…people are goin' to start talkin'."

Tarrah grabbed his gloved hand and pulled him along beside her. He had little time to protest, as they were quickly boarded onto the train.

"What are ye doin'?"

Tarrah asked, not understanding why he hid beneath layers of clothing and always covered his beautiful, artistic hands with the most expensive leather gloves that money could buy.

He sighed with disinterested grace and sat down across from Raoul, Christine, and Annette; Tarrah reclined beside him and would not stop staring at him.

"What are you talking about?"

"Oh no, do not even try it, Erik Lacroix, ye know perfectly well what I am talkin' about."

Erik tried his darnedest to ignore his ward, but the child had a way of staring him down.

"What?" he asked; an agitating lift to his voice.

She still didn't flinch, even when his tone grew more annoyed with each passing moment.

Raoul was actually finding the whole scene quite comical. This wisp of a girl had Erik wrapped around her finger and he wasn't even aware of it.

"Ye look like some beautiful, dark, avengin' angel when ye wrap yer entire body in that cape. Ye have no reason to hide beneath all the layers ye wear – and do not even get me started on that ridiculous fedora!"

Tarrah had said the words loud enough that many others on the train looked over at them. They had noticed the dark man, but this young girl was drawing attention to him.

"Tarrah, will you keep your voice down!"

"She is right, Erik…you are quite an attractive man, and no woman on this train – or anywhere - can see that if you keep yourself hidden."

Christine finally said it…it was in the open and she had not stuttered. She didn't clamp her hand over her mouth, nor bury her head in Raoul's shoulder. She had said what needed saying.

Erik looked dubiously from one woman to the other, but neither was willing to balk beneath his jade-colored stare.

He glanced at Annette and Meg for support, but they both just smiled and nodded.

"Oh, that is helpful, thank you Annette."

His scathing tone was laced with mirth, but he could not believe they had said such things about him in front of all these people.

He yanked the fedora off his head and lowered the collar on his cape; fully exposing his masked features to the people on the train with them.

"I hope you are satisfied." He growled. "Do not blame me if the women and children run in the opposite direction, screaming at the top of their lungs – or worse yet, start fainting dead away."

He was serious; and that made Tarrah even angrier. She decided to aggravate him further by standing up, leaning over him, and placing a kiss upon his cheek. Before Erik could react, she had done just that.

She really had him going this time. He was stunned into silence and sat there with his head glued in one spot, looking out the window. He wasn't going to risk catching the eyes of anyone on the train.

As he sat there, staring out the window, Erik realized how little progress he had made in the past four years. He knew he was over reacting, but what was new about that? Everything he did, he did to the extreme and over the top – it was the dramatist in him.

"Mother…what is wrong with that man's face?"

Erik heard the small child in the seat across the aisle from them prod his dozing mother and beg an answer. The child did not relent and continued to ask the question, despite his mother's lack of response.

Erik slammed his eyes shut, hoping the child would cease his zealous efforts; but to no avail.

The young boy's courage or curiosity got the best of him and he edged off his seat and inched his way toward Erik's still form.

"Mister?"

The small voice held no fear, only an absolute curiosity and childlike innocence to which Erik was not accustom.

Tarrah smiled at the boy as he leaned closer to Erik who, by this time, was pretending to be asleep. She nudged him, knowing he was just being annoying, and smiled innocently at him when his eyes opened slowly.

The mother had awakened by this time and upon finding her son talking to the strangers across the aisle, she immediately reprimanded him.

"Davey…leave her alone."

The boys head spun quickly, to look at his mother.

"But mama, I just want to talk to the man…please….I will not be a nuisance…" his little face was devoid of any guile and the mother was caving in, "…pleeeeease!"

The young mother glanced at Erik, and her eyes grew wide and questioning. He was dressed in the most expensive, elegant clothing she had ever seen; and, despite the mask, appeared to be a nobleman.

"Davey…his lordship has better things to do than talk to bothersome young boys."

Tarrah giggled at the inference that Erik was nobility, and Erik frowned.

"He is not nobility; it is interesting that you think so...this is Monsieur Erik Lacroix, the composer and artist from London." Tarrah looked at Erik again and winked at his scowling features.

The young woman's eyes grew even wider and she swept her eyes over Erik in wonderment.

"Well, this is an honor, Monsieur Lacroix."

Erik inclined his head slightly and turned back toward the window, hoping the boy would go away, and Tarrah would cease her infernal exuberance; he could feel a monstrous headache coming on.

"Mister…are you alright?"

The concern in the small child's voice caused Erik's heart to lurch and he turned his deep green gaze on the boy.

Children were as much a mystery to him as women were – more, really. He had never been around a child this small. There had been older children and adolescents at the opera house, but he had never mingled with them.

Christine had been nine when he came to be her Angel of Music; this boy was no more than five or six.

It was obvious the boy was not going to leave, so Erik decided to humor him, if even for a few minutes until his mother came to her senses and yanked the boy away from the monster.

A slight lift of a brow from Erik and the boy was making his way over to him. Erik felt a hinge of panic sweep over him as the boy drew closer.

This is ridiculous, he is but a child, you cretin…he does not bite.

Erik's thoughts did not show on his face, thankfully; but the boy didn't stop at just standing in front of Erik, he managed to crawl up into his lap.

Erik stiffened and pushed himself up straighter in the seat; his arms poised on the arms, ready to bolt to a standing position.

Everyone around him was watching his reaction and seemed very interested in how he would interact with the child.

Meanwhile, Tarrah had engaged the mother in a conversation and was keeping an eye on Erik at the same time.

"Why do you ask if I am alright…do I look ill?"

His voice was very pleasing to the child and Davey smiled brightly.

"No sir, you do not look ill…just sad."

The sincere brown of the boy's eyes never left Erik's face and they slowly scanned his face with interest.

Erik smirked, slightly, and the boy's handsome, flawless face broke into a huge grin.

"Is that why you are sad?"

His little hand pointed toward Erik's mask and for the first time in his entire life, Erik did not feel threatened by that gesture.

"You are a very intelligent and inquisitive child, Davey."

The boy wrinkled his nose and pursed his lips.

"What does that mean?"

Erik could not believe the spontaneous laugh that he experienced. What a refreshing change the child was from the usual criticism he received from adults.

"It means smart and curious….do you know what those words mean?"

The boy shook his head emphatically and smiled.

Christine, Raoul, and Annette watched the boy and Erik begin to develop a friendship, as though it was the most natural thing on earth. Erik had been transformed before their eyes. He was amicable and fatherly toward the boy and the effect was stunning.

"Watch closely."

Erik removed his gloves, retrieved a coin from his pocket, and waved his hands in front of the boy.

"Keep your eye on the coin."

Davey's big, brown eyes watched every move that Erik's hands made – sweeping over and under, and all around. When his hands stopped, the coin had disappeared.

"Where is it?" Davey asked enthusiastically.

Erik reached over behind the boy's ear and seemingly pulled the coin out of it.

His little features lit up with such joy and that Erik couldn't help but laugh again. The boy's hands clapped with vigor and Erik handed him the coin.

"Thank you, monsieur!" The boy exclaimed.

Erik picked the boy up and off his lap; steering him back toward his mother; but the small child turned back toward Erik and asked a quiet, heartfelt question.

"Does it hurt?"

His little finger was pointing at Erik's mask and the look on his face was pure innocence. Erik smiled, not knowing just how devilishly handsome he was, and made the boy smile back.

"No, not on the outside…sometimes I hurt on the inside, though." Erik replied, honestly.

"Why?"

Erik answered softly and frankly.

"People can be cruel."

Erik urged Davey toward his mother and then briefly caught her eyes. She smiled and blushed before taking her son into her waiting arms.

He turned back toward the window and completely ignored the curious stares he was getting from his traveling companions.

"I have never seen you interact with children before…it was wonderful."

Annette spoke, but everyone nodded in agreement.

He didn't bother to look at any of them, but they could see the softness fade from he features; he spoke softly and with dark undertones.

"Yes, well… contrary to popular belief, I do not eat them for dinner…" He heard a slight gasp from Christine and turned to regard her, and the others.

Tarrah narrowed her gaze at him and ground her next words out through clenched teeth.

"Must ye be so crude?"

He scoffed and looked away.

"I am just repeating what I have heard with my own ears, Tarrah; I am really quite the monster to most people…" his eyes softened and he raised a hand to her check, brushing the back of his knuckles against her soft skin, "…you remain delightfully ignorant of this opinion."

"That is because ye are not a monster."

Her warm words touched his heart and he lifted one side of his mouth in a smile.

"And you, my dear, are either blissfully blind or impossibly ignorant."

The last remaining minutes of the train ride were spent in silence.

TBC