Disclaimer: Yep still not mine. Original credit goes to M. Leroux. New characters and the strange postion I've put everyone in is mine. Am but a poor college student and write for the sheer joy of it, earning no money from this, yadda bladda.

Hello all. Anyone up for an update? It's finals week and I'm taking a break.

And I keep forgetting to ask, anyone catch the nod to Dracula a couple chunks back? Raoul's method of destroying Erik is how it works in the book according to the doc.

A thousand thank-you's again to everyone who's reviewed. I'm sincerly hoping to be a little faster with updating next term here but we'll have to see what happens.

Anyway, on with the show. Enjoy!

Out of the corner of her eye, Christine watched the sun rise. For the second night in a row, she had failed to gain any substantial rest. The previous night, Raoul had been so distraught and frightened then he swore to guard her lest the blackguard show his fiendish face again. Christine finally forced him out, with her assurances that although his bravery was much appreciated the whole idea would be quite improper. He settled for guarding her door and Christine could hear his even breathing when she lay still. Finally alone with her thoughts, she replayed the whole event in her mind…well one part in particular, she thought guiltily, or perhaps two. The emotion in his voice and the last gentle brush of his lips as he pulled away still etched perfectly in her memory.

Perhaps he was right, she thought with a sigh. Mixed signals weren't entirely her problem though, were they? Christine sighed again. Oh, she had no doubt that she loved Erik but all of these changes had sent her head whirling. The next day had been difficult. She took many walks to clear her head and shook off the worries of her companions (turning their focus to Raoul instead who vehemently refused to say what had him on such an obvious edge). She spent the last night in a very light slumber, half afraid and half praying that Erik would return. The entire situation was a mess. Before this whole debacle had begun…or perhaps it was just continuing along where it had left off, when Erik was only a heavenly voice and guardian spirit.

He was definitely right in one regard, this confusion had gone on far enough. It was time to grow up and make a decision. Christine pounded her pillow in light frustration; she wasn't really any further than she was the night before and now more than a little sleep deprived. She closed her eyes and thought perhaps she could grow used to a nocturnal lifestyle at this rate, drifting in a semi-conscious state and pulling the covers over her eyes.

Allowing her subconscious to wander she began to daydream, trying to picture what her life would be like. She just had to stick to her choice though it would be almost easier to choose neither or magically disappear. Yes, to disappear would have been convenient. Erik would find her though. He always managed to find her even when she could manage to isolate herself from the rest of the world. Raoul would try, bless his generous heart, but Erik would find her…and ultimately make her realize that she did not want to be alone or that problems needed to be faced.

Tread softly and carefully, Christine, she coached herself; he has given you his heart to walk on.

The answer was still there, even if Christine couldn't yet accept it. She knew, however much she wanted to deny it in light of what Erik had become, that she had made her decision some time ago, before she had even returned to Paris. All that was left was to acknowledge it aloud and to those who deserved answers.

Allowing her thoughts to drift further from her control, Christine finally fell into real sleep.

∞†∞

It didn't take long to double the strength of the gathered vampire army. One came that very night, moments after the call was made (Ezekiel had a mild talent for prophesy and had started traveling about three nights before) and barely made it before the sun. He was a strange one to be sure, mumbling to himself and having difficulty focusing on conversations and virtually anything for that matter though worth listening to. He seemed to have an unspoken status of respect that wasn't enforced by anyone or any particular action but was there all the same. The second night, Ezekiel sat down by Erik and whispered, "Don't ask why. Just do," before his eyes unfocused and he stared off at something no one else could see. He spoke with Irving and made the man smile and bantered briefly with Philippe (who was recovering nicely, despite what he had suffered).

"I know what you're thinking," Philippe said smugly, glancing up from his pallet on the floor, his arms crossed behind his head.

"Oh?" Erik replied noncommittally.

"You're wondering why he isn't part of the Circle, admit it." Erik shrugged but neither confirmed nor denied the claim. "Hmph. Well, the answer's fairly simple. He didn't want to. Could you believe it? Might be for the best though; some probably thought he was a little too spacey. Notice how his mind seems to wander? Puts followers ill at ease when the leader starts talking about yams in the middle of an important discussion about the punishment for traitors. Still, he seems to fit in anyway. You could learn something from him, I'm sure. I mean you're weird but you don't fit in quite so well and—"

"Philippe, you must be feeling better if you can jabber on like that."

He laughed at that, before succumbing to a coughing fit.

Several new faces came the next night from a few different nationalities. Erik left their names alone, preferring not to put himself in the spotlight, knowing that just as many vampires as humans would stare at his mask; he had no doubt that they would have his story soon enough, most likely from Annabelle if they were smart. He and Philippe kept to the corner where Dane had moved all the randomly stored items that were initially resting in the cellar, the ornate mirror still betraying no one's presence.

As much as he'd like to believe that he wasn't thinking about Christine, he found it difficult to believe such a preposterous lie. It was all up to her now and he vowed not to interfere with her decision and that he would try to respect it…though part of him knew that he couldn't be sure of that this time. She was in the same house and it was slowly driving him mad; he could probably even make it down the corridor in the middle of the afternoon, especially if he avoided the skylights or just travel along the ceiling to save the trouble. Unfortunately, there was no plausible excuse he could give to wander around and the Elders of the Circle kept a close watch on the door. Furthermore, many of his new "kinsmen" came in voraciously hungry, having flown quite some distance without stopping to feed, and he would not be the one to put Christine in further danger. Philippe hinted at the possibility of offering his brother but to his credit did not further the option.

Any human blood would have been snatched up immediately; the injured vampires had complained to great lengths their distaste of animal blood but no one could afford to be discovered in such a vulnerable position and a pile of bloodless corpses, it was agreed, was far from subtle. Only one maid had been claimed so far; Aleta countermanded when Ethan's condition took a turn for the worse. All for nothing though. He faded slowly to dust and beyond anyone's power to restore. Aleta was a good actress and though Erik appreciated a good actress, he still saw past her brave façade. Ezekiel comforted her absently, still apparently saying the right thing, and only then did tears work their way down her cheeks. Margaret had regained consciousness and nearly bit through her lip when they set her arm; Erik had to respect her tolerance. She saw to the newcomers with her arm in a sling, speaking one language and another, her gift revealed at last. Donald spent much of his time with Dane discussing quietly under their breath when he wasn't speaking with the new folk. Another vampire named Yuri joined them later and when he became too frustrated, Margaret would translate for him; he was some sort of master tactician by the sound of it.

In the afternoon, three days after the call was made, Sebastian rudely woke everyone in the cellar. The battle plan had apparently been decided.

"We will wait. Closer to the new moon. Yes, they have found a way to transform without the power of a full moon but without at least some of those rays, perhaps they will be more vulnerable," Dane began. "This will be dangerous for us as well; without the light from the moon visibility may be more of an issue but more importantly the lack of lunar energy will also affect our abilities."

Erik listened but didn't pay rapturous attention; at least he wasn't as obvious as Philippe who was picking dirt out from under his fingernails. Ezekiel was humming a strange tune and rocking in place but his glazed gaze was nonetheless focused forward.

The plan was relatively simple, striking at the new moon and taking out as many as possible in one go before going through a specific targeting method where one werewolf was picked off at a time. The whole ordeal was risky and half hearted suggestions of emissary action were glared into submission, especially those thirsty for revenge against Ethan.

One question, however, did catch Erik's attention. A new vampire, Rebecca, spoke up tentatively, "What happens if a vampire is bitten by a werewolf? Will he or she transform?"

Donald was quiet for a moment. Ezekiel answered her instead in a strangely bouncy voice: "Well actually no one's survived long enough to tell for certain, for one reason or another. One sir who died was thought to have shown beginning signs of a transformation but was lucky enough to die first from complications and the added stress on his body." He then retreated back into his own world, having put his two cents in the conversation.

"Lucky indeed," muttered a man standing a few feet away, his arms crossed over his chest and looking mildly uneasy.

"We'll just have to be careful and pray that we never find out," Donald added.

Erik unconsciously rubbed his injury; it certainly didn't do any good to worry about it now. The next full moon was some few days away.

The door to the cellar burst open and a young new vampire leaped down the stairs, saluting to Donald (obviously having been a soldier in a past life). "Sir! The tower watch has detected movement along the edges of the forest. The moon will rise soon and they could likely be aware of our position, sir."

"I see," Donald deadpanned. He glanced at Dane and Erik saw something that surprised him, a glimmer of fear in Donald's eyes; it was only there for an instant before it was quickly replaced with grim determination.

"That's the thing with plans," Philippe muttered, "They have this nasty little habit of changing from time to time."

"Everyone, prepare yourselves and be ready. All able hands will defend our stronghold," Dane intoned emotionlessly.

The others broke away from the center of the group and nearly dove for their supplies. Erik stood where he was, leaning against the wall and nearly hidden in shadow but for the contrast of his white mask in the darkness.

Donald took several long strides and stood in front of Erik, closing in briefly to subconsciously intimidate him though Erik was visibly unfazed. Donald hissed through gritted teeth: "Everyone. That means you, too. You will follow orders this time. Am I clear?"

Erik made no reply and was mildly shocked when the normally-composed Donald seized his collar and thrust him against the wall. "We don't have time for this, you fool! Not now. You might think you could lead this parade but I am still the leader and you will follow orders. There is too much at stake for any childish acts of defiance."

Recovering quickly, Erik grasped his wrists and with a sharp twist released Donald's grip, smoothing out the fabric of his jacket after they had sprung apart. Donald made no more efforts to intimidate with violence. He closed his eyes before resuming a glare and an attempt toward reason, his frustration and anxiety eating away at his normal dignity. "These are your kin now. If we die, so will you."

Erik was unmoved.

"If you don't help us stop them, they will kill everyone in this house. And I mean everyone, not just those of us hiding in the cellar."

That did it. Erik closed his eyes briefly and gave a short nod, acknowledging that Christine was worth protecting if nothing else. He still made no move toward his few belongings which irritated Donald all the more and gave Erik a sense of perverse pleasure to defy the man's authority, to make him work for it. Perhaps, he mused, he had had too much contact with Philippe.

∞†∞

Usual ramblings: I love Philippe. I love Erik. Anyway...I do actually have an end in sight; sort of a bittersweet feeling, you know what I mean? Not sure how many more chapters it will take to get there but we'll see. Depends on who my muse decides to kill off. ;)

Love it or hate it, please let me know! (Reviewersreceive a patented Erik and Philippe 'Get out of homework free' coupon, complete with vampire enforcers should the coupon not be recognized. Memorial service for Ethan will be held next Thursday.)

Take care, all.