I am approaching the end of the pre-written chapters, so updating will be a little harder and may slow down a tad...but I am still writing away.

Sorry for the darkness of this chapter...oh, and the lack of Erik.

DARK SIDE OF THE GLASS

CHAPTER 29

Mid-March was a very peculiar time of the year in parts of France. One day could be rainy and cool, another dry and cold, or it could even be warm in some places; this day, on the outskirts of Chartres, the weather was dreary and cold.

The small, but lavishly furnished chateau was beginning to feel like a prison to Pieter. His youthful exuberance was wearing a whole in the floor and he yearned to rid himself of the incessant rage that filtered through him most of the time.

For what seemed like forever, two men - one in his mid-twenties and one in his early forties – had been waiting. The madness of it all was driving the younger one further into the dark realm of insanity that had claimed him long ago.

The older one was more patient – the years having taught him that there were some things in life worth waiting for; his revenge was almost complete.

"Your father is dead...why do you still seek revenge on him?"

Pieter was curious; his own father deserved his revenge – but his dear, doting mother was a fragile flower and his father was her life.

Yves was a patient man, but Pieter asked too many searching questions…there was some information that was to remain secret until the right time presented itself.

"You will know in time, Pieter – you must be patient."

Fury shown on his youthful, feminine features..he was growing exceedingly irritated with each passing day...and Yves was holding something from him...a secret.

"Promises, Yves…that is all you make and nothing ever comes of it." Pieter's evil smile escaped the older man, whose attention rested on the newspaper article in front of him.

Yves felt the rage pooling inside him at the impertinent youth that insisted on immediate results.

"That tone will not be tolerated...if you wish to keep your tongue, you will guard it more closely."

Pieter knew he was treading dangerous ground. Yves was calculating and cold; Pieter had found nothing that made the older man more passionate than planning the demise of others. Pieter feared him, admired him, and desired him...and it could be the death of him.

"I had wonderful plans…plans that would have made me happy." Pieter's eyes darkened and his voice took on an entirely different personality, "All that came to an abrupt halt when that skinny, little, tramp of an opera singer stepped into his life…she ruined everything."

Pieter looked back at the dark man who was a temporary replacement for Erik in his heart, but the fires within him did not ignite in the same manner as they did when he thought about Erik.

"Yves…are you listening?"

Bold eyes moved from the paper to the young man that stared angrily at him. Yves was quickly losing patience with his beautiful plaything. The time would come when his revenge would finally be complete – and that included doing whatever needed to be done to Pieter.

"Timing is everything, my pet…we must wait for the perfect moment to strike."

The heavily accented words rang hope in Pieter's young heart. He rushed forward and sat down in the chair next to his current mentor.

"When, Yves…when can I have him?"

Yves smiled, but there was nothing kind or reassuring about the act - it was a sneer straight from the bowels of hell.

"You must understand, Pieter…I am giving him to you, for I could do so much more with him."

Pieter felt a flurry of panic wash over him. This man could ruin all the carefully laid plans he had made over the past few years. If anything, Yves was more sinister and conniving than he was.

"You do not even know him….he is mine."

The empty eyes of the nobleman moved from Pieter back to the newspaper…it was a couple of days old, but the news made him smile mockingly.

"He is to be….married…" he took another look at the date, "…change that – he is married…how does that calculate into your perfect little plan of seduction and submission?"

Fury sparked every inch of Pieter's body and he breathed deeply, trying to control the urge to strike the sculptured, handsome features of Yves Demidov.

He stalked over to where Yves sat, leaning against the frame of the chair with a smug look on his face.

He yanked the newspaper out of his hands and cringed when the older man snickered disgustingly.

"The deed is done, Pieter…an arranged marriage, apparently."

Wild eyes scanned the written words, doubting the veracity of every line. A quiet, dangerous growl began low in Pieter's chest. He ripped the paper to shreds and threw the tattered pieces into the fire.

He collapsed onto the luxurious carpet that ran wall to wall in the spacious room. He stared into the spitting embers of the dancing fire; hate mixed with uncontrolled lust burrowed through every vein in his heated body.

Yves did not bother to go to him, knowing that the young man was beyond consolation; not that it really mattered…the whole thing had to be some sort of mistake.

"This was never supposed to happen…you assured me…"

Pieter was mumbling – almost incoherently – beneath his breath. His body pulsed with palpable anger that only amplified his insanity.

Therein lay the difference between them…Pieter was completely and utterly insane; Yves knew it and accepted it – knowing there would come a time to rid himself of the pleasure of his company.

Yves was not a sick man, just an evil one. He could not remember a time when the need to destroy and vindicate did not command him. He answered its call and did its bidding – willingly and freely.

He supposed, if he had to trace it back to some sort of origin, he would lay it at the feet of his father. Abusive in all ways imaginable – and some that were not – Demetrius Demidov had been the epitome of Russian nobility in his time.

Considered one of the top members of the Boyar Duma, he earned a noble place among the princes of Russia and sealed the fate of his young son; if only it had been a good fate.

If anyone had ever hated their own child, Demetrius had been that person. There was no love between them at all – just a seething hatred born from the doubt Demetrius had about whom Yves' real father was.

Despite Katerina Demidov's insistence that she had been faithful to him, Demetrius had stood stoically by as they beheaded her for the crime and embarrassment of adultery.

From that moment on, Yves had been the reminder of his mothers supposed unfaithfulness – it did not matter that he was a smaller version of Demetrius in every way – except the color of his eyes.

"I will not continue to suffer because of the deceitfulness of women...bewitching me with their beauty and then coercing me into things…" deep blue eyes centered on the boy whose very existence deteriorated Demetrius' position with the princes, "…and you are no different…nor was your brother!"

Yves could still hear his father screaming those words into his young face while his large fist connected with his already bruised body. There was no reprieve, not ever.

There had been even worse humiliation when his father had discovered where Yves' true desire lay one afternoon in one of the servant's quarters. Yves could not even remember the name of the young man he had been caught with…he just remembered being in love at the time.

He scoffed as he sat there observing the sulking form of Pieter. It had been the sweetest revenge – like savoring a finely aged wine – when Yves had plunged a dagger through his father's black heart; and even sweeter to discover the evil in his own heart made his father's pale in comparison.

"Come here, my pet…" Yves crooned, "…you can still have him."

Pieter lifted hollow eyes and accepted the manicured hand that reached down to draw him into strong, giving arms.

"I will not go back on my word…we must make him suffer though…"

Pieter frowned, even while the older man pushed the shirt from his shoulders and ran warm, wonderful hands up the middle of his chest – caressing and kissing his way to Pieter's waiting lips.

"His body is mine, Yves…you promised."

His voice was breathy and low as the desire began to build within him.

"And it shall be, precious….I am not interested in his body…" Pieter marveled at that, for Erik was beautiful of form, "….but…" Yves took Pieter's hand and led his naked, god-like body to the soft bed, "…I am interested in your body."

"What must I do...to make him mine…." Pieter pleaded.

Yves' smile was full of seductive scheming and cunning evil, "….take what is precious to him."

Pieter's eyes drifted shut as he sank into the skilled hands and mouth of his beautiful lover. His mind was filled with images of Erik and the sounds of his music drifting through the corridors of the opera house and its deepest, most hidden places.

"Her….we need to take her…."

Yves ceased his erotic game and looked Pieter in the eyes.

"Think Pieter….it is an arranged marriage and I have reliable sources that tell me it is not a match made of love…."

Pieter was thoroughly confused, but equally intrigued.

"Who then?"

Another sickening smirk danced upon Yves' lips.

"There is only one that he loves most in this world…"

TBC