Ah, the usual: Still don't own the characters. Plot isMINE -:growl:-

Hey all! It seemed only appropriate to update this fic on Friday the 13th. Hope you don't mind :).

Side Note: my phanfic "Playing Hooky" was nominated for POTO Reader's choice awards in Alternate Reality!

A thousand hugs to reviewers!

Victorian Dream: Yeah, Erik figures it out, no worries. Side note: Philippe says in the second chapter the only two ways to become a vampire in my world. Sorry about your parakeet, hope things get better (hands chocolate, hug) Thank you!

Shadow Fox Forever: sorry about the uber-long update waits; school's trying to see how much it can cram in before the end here (and I'm graduating in about 15 days). Thank you!

twinlady: wonder no longer, the answer is here! (by classic you didn't mean cliché, did you? 'cause I didn't see it coming when it stringed from my fingers and I really don't want to be predictable or repeating...) Anyway...Thank you!

The Goddess of Death: Delicious...love the adjective. Thank you!

MagickAlianne: My force field did too work :P Thank you!

Neori: (brightly) really! Aw, shucks...:) (btw, I don't think I'd mind being hunted down my Gerard Butler -:smirk:- so maybe I'll just wait on this update...j/k). THANK YOU!

All That Remains: ooo, neato screen name. Makes me think of a painting called "That which I should have done, I did not do." Can't remember the artist's name for the life of me (first name was Ivan...oh! Ivan Albright I think...) but it's a really creepy but really cool painting... Anyway, that was random. I'm glad you like it! Thank you!

AkashaVampireQueen: Glad to hear you're interested! I saw the movie with a few friends last weekend and I really liked it (though I don't think Tom Cruise pulled off the blondish, wavy long hair very well...). Cool flick. Yeah, I can see why you'd say Lestat and Philippe are sorta alike...weird... Thank You!

And thanks again. Okay, in this chapter, we're going to learn a little more about Philippe (and for those of you who didn't draw the connection...yeah...it's spelled out for you later). Hope you enjoy it and faithful reviewers, I hope I don't fail you.

Much love all.

Last time:

She tried to scream but soon one of those hands clamped over her mouth. Her chest heaved as Christine fought the effects of her sprint and her fear, air more difficult to pull through the strange filter blocking her oxygen.

The same barrier muffled another scream as she felt the skin of her neck broken, pierced by unseen means.

∞†∞

And Now…

A flash of visions flooded Erik's mind as he took in his latest victim but he saw something he never had before: himself. It was almost an out-of-body experience; he recalled much of what she did but it was a new perspective.

Like a bolt of lightning, he realized who he had in his arms. He pulled away sharply as Christine's form crumpled to the ground.

Erik panicked for one of the few times in his life. He whipped off his scarf and held it over the puncture, fully disgusted with himself. He felt for her pulse with one hand: weak but still there. Her breathing was shallow and her skin was paler than usual. Mentally berating himself for his stupidity he prayed silently that she would wake.

Suddenly, she breathed in sharply and opened her eyes. Erik took away the scarf gently; the bleeding had stopped.

Confused, he altered his tone to mask his voice as best he could as he pulled her to her feet. "That was quite a scare, mademoiselle." Erik was shocked to realize that he had scarce recognized his own voice. "Are you alright?"

"A little dizzy. I'll be fine in a moment. What happened to the mugger?"

"Fell on his own knife," Erik replied honestly.

"Thank you so much for your assistance, monsieur. I seem to have an angel looking after me tonight."

Erik grimaced slightly though it was concealed by the cloak of night. She had to say angel. He did his best to feign ignorance as he inquired, "Do you live in town? Or shall I see you to your hotel?"

Christine took a quick look of her surroundings, "No, that won't be necessary. I'm staying just around the corner."

"If that is what you wish."

"I cannot thank you enough for your assistance, monsieur. Perhaps you would care to have lunch with me tomorrow, as a small token of my gratitude?"

"I'm afraid that would be quite impossible." Quite impossible indeed.

"I'm sorry to hear that." Christine rearranged her dress unconsciously before continuing, "Perhaps another time. I must bid you goodnight, monsieur." She offered her hand which the man kissed genteelly. She turned to go.

"Goodnight, Christine."

She froze. Not only had she not disclosed her name to her helper but it was that voice; that voice was a page from her past.

She turned around sharply but he was gone. Shivers ran down her spine. Surely her mind was blowing everything out of proportion after a frightening experience.

Christine walked back to the inn and numbly to her room. Her purchases, she realized, were still in a dark alley. She caught her gaze in the vanity, looking as though she'd seen a ghost. Her hair was a mass of frightful disarray and partially dried blood left streaks down her left shoulder. She raised her right hand to the wound on her neck. Christine felt two holes near the base and her eyes widened. "What could have done that?" she wondered aloud.

She caught sight of her hand in the mirror. On the same hand she had offered to the stranger, her supposed savior, she could see the mark of his lips left in fresh blood.

∞†∞

Madame Giry mumbled to herself as she marched once again down the stone steps into Erik's world. She wished she could do more than bring him food from time to time. It had been well over a week since she had last brought provisions and she prayed silently that something had not happened to him in her absence. Mme Giry never intended to neglect him for so long, but Meg's impending engagement to a Baron had claimed much of her attention. True, he was a gentleman in every regard and seemed besotted with her lovely daughter but she still felt bittersweet pangs as her daughter grew up before her eyes. Then Christine had visited and poor Erik was forgotten in the midst of catching up.

An apple slipped from Mme Giry's bag as she swore under her breath, chasing after it. She stooped down to pick it up and rose to the sight of a man in front of her. Before she could ask any questions, his arm shot to her throat and lifted her off the floor.

∞†∞

Mind near bursting, Erik stole into the shadows and slammed the door shut behind him.

"Philippe! Philippe, I―" Erik took in the scene before him and his distress dissolved into a different urgency. Philippe's hand was wrapped around Madame Giry's throat, parcels of food lay aside forgotten, and she struggled as best her small frame could manage, scratching frantically at his iron grip. Philippe leaned in ominously and in an instant Erik was beside them.

With calm, controlled fury, Erik leaned toward Philippe and spoke in a menacing growl: "Let her go. Not her."

"Why? What's this spy to you?"

"She's my friend. Put her down, Philippe."

Philippe sneered lightly and Mme Giry's eyes bulged as she took in his elongated teeth. After a moment of defiance, Philippe slowly lowered her to the ground and unclenched his fingers. She breathed in sharply and scrambled as far from her assailant as possible. "Fine, Erik. I'm not hungry anyway," Philippe said flippantly as he walked away.

Mme Giry's knees gave out from under her and she fell to the floor. Erik rushed to her side. "Are you all right?"

"Erik…"she murmured in a shaky voice, "what have you gotten yourself into?"

He assisted her to her feet, "We'll talk later." He took notice of the contents of the spilled bag, "Thank you, Danielle."

She nodded lightly as she numbly scampered out of the room, fast as propriety would allow.

"Are you sure that's wise? She could tell anyone," Philippe drawled.

"We can trust her."

"She's led people down here before, has she not?"

Erik froze; Philippe was right. "We can trust her," he repeated.

"On a different note, how was your outing? You seemed in a right state when you came back…"

Erik closed his eyes, how could he forget? "I saw a man. He was chasing a woman. He had a knife drawn." Erik's breath quickened, his stress returning. "I went after the cutthroat first but he fell on his own blade then I went after her. I didn't see her face. I didn't know who she was…until I tasted her. I tasted Christine. I bit Christine!" He covered his face with his hands.

"My, my. A very interesting outing indeed," Philippe stated carelessly.

Erik whipped his head up. "How can you say that? I could have killed her."

"But apparently you didn't."

"That's not the point. It was Christine. I would die before causing her pain and there I was at her neck."

Philippe shrugged. "It was an accident."

"But she knew it was me."

"I don't see why you're so upset. She lived and she thinks you're dead."

"But I bit her and I saw her life, her soul. Every embrace, every tear..."

"That's what it is to be a vampire, Erik." Philippe's voice took on a sudden edge. "To know the value of life, to feel more alive than what is humanly possible, to know passion, that's what it's about. Passion!"

Philippe's yells echoed off the cavernous walls.

Philippe took in a few deep breaths until Erik broke the silence and spoke in quiet voice, "What was her name?"

"Excuse me?"

Erik kept his gaze steady. "What was her name, Philippe? I can hear it in your voice."

"Don't assume to know my life's story," jagged ice coated his tone.

"What was her name?" Erik repeated calmly.

Philippe sighed and closed his eyes. "Adele. Her name was Adele." He laughed lightly. "We have a common problem, Erik. Raoul has inadvertently ruined us both."

Erik took a good, thoughtful look at Philippe before it occurred to him: "Your brother, yes?"

"Yes. Raoul de Chagny is my younger brother."

Erik sat back in the chair allowing the news to settle as Philippe stood before the fire. "How did it happen?"

Philippe cringed though he knew the question would come. "I'd rather not go into it. Let's just say my brother's loose tongue caused a few complications. Her father found out and took her away." Philippe swallowed and stopped for a moment. "We shared secret letters for some time until Raoul spoke of them with a friend at his boarding school…who turned out to be her fiancé. It was just something he said in passing but Raoul's friend―" he winced slightly "―let's just say he was the jealous type. Adele never recovered. Needless to say, I've confided in Raoul little since. Then the Circle found me and I slowly learned how to live again. Only those of us who have known passion in life, who have known pain, can belong to the Circle. And the rest, well it's not important."

Erik was about to extended his sympathies but changed his mind; he'd never wanted useless pity, why would Philippe?

Philippe gestured impatiently as Erik opened his mouth, "There's no need to tell me your sob story, Erik. I've heard it first hand from Christine, the day you supposedly died." He hesitated momentarily and Erik glanced at him, curious as to Christine's slant to the chain of events. "I don't know how you let her go. I would never have had the strength. Adele was taken before I could do anything, whisked away in the middle of the night by her father. She never had a choice, neither of us did. To have been so close… I wouldn't have had the strength."

"I wanted her to be happy," he replied bitterly, lowering his head. "She can live in the sunshine with her precious fop." He glanced at Philippe, sapphire eyes glossed over with tears long forgotten. "I just wanted her to be happy," he murmured again.

"See you really shouldn't assume something is going to make someone happy in a case like this; you'd be surprised. You didn't exactly give Christine a choice."

"And just what do you mean by that?" Erik asked in a dangerous tone.

"Think about it. I'm going to sleep." Philippe's own tone booked no room for argument as he turned sharply on his heel and left the room, too haunted by his fey reminisces to continue any conversation.

Erik leaned back in his chair, folding his arms behind his head. "It certainly has been an interesting night," he mused to the empty room. Oh, God; Christine.

∞†∞

Okay, with any luck I'll be better about updating come summer here; we'll see how babysitting and if I can manage to find a good part time job screw up with my writing sessions. I can always shove my little brother off the computer whene'er I get home...

Love it or hate it, LET ME KNOW! (small voice) please? Any comments welcome; will cry if I get flamed but am not stuck up enough to ignore that I have a heck of a lot of polishing before I could ever hit the bookstores. :)

Take care, all.