Disclaimer: Same thing, only different. Credit to other people except for what isn't. Yes, vaguely specific I am today.

Hey all! Again,a thousand thank you's to reviewers! Last chapter, I fully intended that Philippe's distraction would be left to reader's discretion but I kept on getting requests for what really happened. Maybe I'll write a mini-episode and post it as a one shot...or several variations of said theme...depends how this summer works.

Alrighty, my goal is to finish this story by the end of the summer but between all the random stuff I've been doing with my folks and a new job, we'll see how it goes.

Enjoy!

The small smile that had held on Danielle Giry's face slowly melted away as she reached Christine's door; her little girl was getting married but she still had her other charge to speak with. Knocking sharply on the heavy wood, she creaked the door open and entered the shrouded room.

"Christine?" Mme Giry sat down next to Christine's bed. "Are you alright?"

"Yes, Madame Giry. I'm feeling much better now."

Mme Giry glanced at Christine's face, noting that she did not look at all well. "Is there something on your mind, Christine?"

She didn't say anything for a moment or two but after some gentle prodding she soon collapsed into Mme Giry's arms.

"There, there, my dear. What's really troubling you?" Danielle was at a momentary loss, not expecting Christine's strong reaction. "What has happened now? Tell me everything."

Christine wiped her eyes and sat up, beginning her narrative tentatively if a bit disjointed. "Erik came back. And I wasn't sure what had happened. The first time, I didn't know who it was until later. The second time, I was amazed that he was alive and solid again. This time, I can't make a true excuse. He bit me and I let him. And now…well…" She tugged lightly at her upper lip and revealed a vicious fang. Madame Giry immediately shifted back in her seat, her eyes wide. "I didn't know this was going to happen." She chuckled ruefully. "I guess I had no suppositions about the future at all." Sighing heavily, Christine continued with an odd half smile, "It does make my choice all the clearer though, Raoul and I aren't even the same species anymore."

"That didn't stop you from seeing Erik. I remember when you came to me, that day before you left town."

"I can't deny that. But I've come to understand since then that, well…perhaps this is where I was meant to be or really where I've wanted to be."

Mme Giry studied her for a moment. "I can't say that I approve of this development for either you or Erik." She sighed heavily. "But you seemed resolved to this so what has upset you?"

Christine chewed on her lip and Mme Giry protested the abuse, still uneasy about the issue of blood and not desiring that it be brought up if she happened to gnaw through her lip. "Vampires are creatures of the devil, that's what I remember hearing from the stories of my youth, wandering about with Father. I don't know what's happened to my soul. If it's still mine or whether I've lost it. Is God still with me?"

"Oh, my dear," Danielle wrapped her arms around Christine again. "Nothing can separate you from God. You should never worry about that; He will never abandon you. Your soul is still where it always was; you still have your conscience and your heart, I can see."

"What about confession? The legends said that vampires wouldn't be able to enter a church."

"You'll find a way, my dear. But I tell you that God will continue to love you."

Christine nodded dumbly, still absorbing much of the reassurance that she craved. "I'm still not sure though; I mean this is so much all at once. I…I don't know if I'm ready for this sort of life."

Mme Giry hesitated, still wary of the whole ordeal, but answered regardless, "I doubt you're the only one. Likely there are some who are still unsure?"

Christine smiled, understanding. "Thank you for being there for me."

"But of course, my dear. As much as I would love to take both you and Erik by the ear and set you down, I do hope that somehow this whole mess may clear up. I still might have to give Erik a good talking-to, actually." Christine chuckled lightly, well aware that she would do just that given half a chance. Mme Giry's focused again on Christine, quirking an eyebrow: "I trust you have spoken with Raoul?" Christine bowed her head and blushed slightly. "This is something I will not let by, now or ever. It's not fair to him Christine. You should speak with Raoul."

Neither one of them had noticed the figure who had just slipped into the room until he spoke up. "About what, Christine?" The ladies jumped and Raoul commented, "I did knock."

"We didn't hear you, Raoul," Christine replied.

"I'll leave you two to talk. Can you behave yourself without a chaperone for a few minutes? I fear my daughter needs that supervision more so at the moment."

Christine glanced at Raoul and tried to shrug away a nagging feeling that something wasn't right in the man's eyes before nodding to Madame Giry. "Perhaps we could talk later."

"Of course, Christine," Danielle smiled before excusing herself.

Once the door had closed behind the woman, Raoul turned back to Christine: "Now what is it that you needed to tell me?"

Christine hesitated, naturally finding it difficult to put such a matter delicately.

Raoul took the opportunity to assume: "I trust you're concerned about setting a date for the wedding?"

"I suppose you could say that."

"Ah, it's really not a problem at all. We can be married immediately…or skip right to the wedding night if that's your pleasure. I knew that all you really needed was a change in scenery."

Christine stared for a moment, certain that something in Raoul's brain had shifted and perhaps altered his memory. Either way, it was obvious that something was wrong.

"Actually, Raoul, it's—"

"Oh, of course, you'll want to be married in the church in Paris where all your friends from the opera could attend and envy the most beautiful and fortunate bride of the century."

"Raoul, the church probably won't—"

"I'm sure it won't be an issue for me, dear. How could they refuse? The De Chagny family have been supporters of the same church for generations."

"That's all very nice, Raoul, but—"

"Oh, I see. You don't want to be married in a church. Well, that can be arranged, too, in a short order—"

"Raoul! I can't marry you."

That statement stopped his chatter quite effectively.

He dropped his head. "I had feared this for quite some time," he murmured. "Never outwardly but it's always been there, deep down. Will you really abandon me, Christine?"

Guilt clenched around Christine's heart and choked her words. "I'm sorry, Raoul; please believe me in that."

"You wouldn't have to be sorry if you kept your promise, you harlot."

Christine fell back as if struck. This was not the Raoul she knew…a fact further confirmed when he raised his head and looked at her with a wicked gleam and a twisted smile. "I've seen the looks you give the Baron. Trying to steal your best friend's lover, now that's despicable. I know you've been mooning after your masked demon. He won't be alive much longer, Christine. There are many ways in which to fulfill this promise, do you have a preference? Undoubtedly, I would enjoy any of them."

"Raoul, what's happened to you?" Christine stood with eyes wide, backing away from the imposter, a strange sense of menace exuding from his stalking figure.

"What's happened to me?" the contorted voice of her childhood friend mocked. "Just a little shift in perspective, I suppose you could say. Either way, I've come to take what's mine."

Bumping into the back wall, Christine feared that she understood precisely what the man intended. Mustering her courage, she began, "Erik will come and—"

"—all the better, my dear The more grief I cause that thing…all the better." The man who was Raoul but decidedly not Raoul leaned in sharply to kiss her forcefully but Christine ducked under the arm he had rested against the wall and ran for the door, crying for help. A rough hand closed over her mouth while another gripped her wrist harshly. She struggled hard, elbowing him in the gut and mashing his toes, but he would not be moved.

Then Christine's other instincts kicked in…and she bit down harshly into Raoul's hand, taking time to savor the taste of fresh blood before he wrenched his hand away. Realization seemed to stun them both momentarily, Christine for what she had done and "Raoul" for what he now understood.

The man chuckled in deep, menacing tones. "So he made you one of them, did he? This is just too rich. I should very much like to introduce you to a few friends who happen to be staying in this very house, Christine."

Certain that she wanted nothing to do with this new Raoul, let alone any of his friends, Christine only watched him warily from the other side of the bed.

The other occupant of the room laughed again. "For now though, I suggest that you remain in here. In fact, I insist upon it." The corners of his mouth curled up in a malicious grin. "I'll return later, when you are feeling better and more receptive to visitors." He glanced at his still bleeding hand and yanked his handkerchief out of his pocket to wrap the wound. "Oh, and one more thing. I would advise not only that you remain in this room, especially after your illness this morning, but that you don't accept any other visitors. Rest assured that someone will be watching your door to see that you are not disturbed. Humans and vampires alike, we will know how to manage them." With a mock bow, he turned and closed the door behind him.

Christine sighed with relief, resting her head in her hands and trying to fend off a headache after that moment of adrenaline. She wished fervently that Erik had been there and that she could warn him of this potential danger. Clasping her hands to her chest, Christine prayed.

∞†∞

"Something's wrong," Erik murmured under his breath.

"Hmm?"

"Christine's in trouble. I can feel it."

"Aw, she's a big girl…well actually she does seem to find herself in a lot of these tight little spots, doesn't she? First a murdering phantom, that same phantom again but with fangs, werewolves…Perhaps she's turned into a magnet for bad luck…or maybe it's just you. Either way, it seems to have the same result."

"Something's wrong," Erik insisted.

Philippe continued, "I guess that kind of falls in with the whole Blood Union bond thing—"

"Keep your voice down," Erik hissed.

"It doesn't matter. They'll figure it out soon enough. Seriously, keeping a secret here is damn near impossible. Remember that Aleta knows when you're lying and that tends to contradict a lot of cover stories. Trust this voice of experience. Besides, Christine probably just walked near some bath water that was a little too hot or picked up a pair of scissors. She has friends to check in on her so what could get her here?"

"Werewolves did once before."

"I suppose that's true. But the whole stealing a hostage in broad daylight is above even the level of werewolf. Hopefully she's chosen her friends well enough—though she still keeps company with my brother, and you for that matter, so I'm not sure what that says about her judgement…anyway hopefully her friends won't allow someone to waltz into the manor and walk out with an extra passenger tossed over their shoulders. Though I suppose if you found a large potato sack…"

"I'm going to her," Erik announced.

"Look, if you're expecting me to pull a stunt like that again, you can shove that idea firmly from your twisted mind."

Erik froze for a moment as his gut feeling amplified. He could almost feel something gripping his wrist. "Someone's threatening her."

"You know, I could catch glimpses of it when you skulked through the passages of the opera house and even when you glanced over your shoulder at every slight sound or even an auditory hallucination but now it's fully confirmed that you are indeed paranoid."

Erik rolled back his shirt sleeves to his elbow. "Is this a manifestation of my paranoia?"

Large red marks graced the pale skin of his forearm, unmistakably in the shape of a sizable hand.

"How do I know you didn't just do that yourself, spook me up a little bit?"

"Look at the angle of the grip, Philippe." Erik was right of course and Philippe scratched his head.

"Well this is something I haven't really heard about," he finally conceded. "You just can't do anything small, can you? Always has to be a weird manifestation of something or the wrath of the sprites or the woman in the spotlight so everyone could see what was going on then turning her into something of darkness or being on the wrong side of the leader of those somethings of darkness. Even if you decide to lay low, chances are there'll be someone who wants revenge for what you've done at the opera house a hundred and sixty eight years ago…a son for his great-grandfather, probably, after a search that has lasted his, and his father's, entire life. Couldn't it just be simple for a change of pace?"

"Has this been on your mind for some time?" Erik inquired with a raised eyebrow.

"Perhaps," Philippe admitted. "Everything you do or have any involvement in seems overly complicated and it makes me think too much. And before you make any snide comments on that matter, I'm going to point out that the mark on your wrist has faded."

Erik glanced down and saw that it was indeed true. He unrolled his sleeve and furrowed his brows…though only half was really visible.

"She's still afraid."

"Well, that's understandable. She doesn't know what she's gotten herself into. You heard her say as much."

"This is different."

Philippe threw up his hands. "Of course it is. We've covered your incompatibility with normalcy."

Erik gave a short chuckle. Warily, he glanced at the other inhabitants of the cellar, afraid to have warranted some attention. Only a few gazes met his own: Ezekiel's wandering eyes (naturally; he probably knew exactly what was going on, even if he seemed fascinated with drawing in the dirt of the cellar floor), an odd look from Irving in his own corner, a vampire Erik hadn't met, and an occasional leer from Donald accompanied with a calculating glance from Dane.

A different sensation struck Erik's mind. A warning. "She doesn't want me to try to see her."

"I won't even ask how you know that. It's much more fun to examine the different ways that statement could be interpreted."

Erik rolled his eyes. "Regardless of the watch on the door, I still wish to see her."

"Watch on the…just how complex is this little telepathic message?"

"Thorough enough."

"All the same, unless you can plan out the changing of the guards, you'd better just wait. Any action won't start until nightfall anyway. Donald won't be an issue, understanding that everyone will need to feed at once, especially since we'll be up against werewolves or sprites or unicorns or magic mushrooms or whatever the most recent disaster is." Philippe stretched out and lounged with his arms behind his head. "You might want to try and rest up a bit, that being said. Don't even start with me on that whole 'I will not rest until I am certain for Christine's safety' thing. That's where you were going with that look, I'm sure."

Erik said nothing, sure that regardless of what he said Philippe would find grounds for verification. Still, Erik had to acknowledge that Philippe was right, shocking as it was, in that all there was to do was wait. Chaos would come soon enough; it was just a matter of time.

Erik didn't notice, as he closed his eyes, the small smile working on Irving's face.

∞†∞

"Been quiet as tomb, sir. Not a sign of anyone but an old woman and a young girl with too much smile for her own good."

"Damn. I would have enjoyed a good excuse to leave his corpse in the middle of the hallway, after I killed the girl, of course."

"There's still time, sir."

"I suppose you're right. We'll just have to continue regardless, be ready for changes."

"Yes, sir."

Another man materialized out of a shadow and stood before the other two. "I couldn't understand what they were saying from such a distance but he was talking to that friend of his."

"My 'brother,' I believe…this body is confused, to speak the truth."

"Yes, that's the one. Anyway, no one really suspects me. I'm supposedly just out to make sure the font door will be closed firmly come sundown, make sure there aren't any extra visitors, according to the fearless leader," the speaker added with heated disdain.

"Alright, gentlemen, this is how we'll alter the plan…"

∞†∞

Authoress Rambling: Is there enough tension yet? I can add plenty more... (smirk) No, Madame Giry's not okay with this. No, Christine is not completely "fixed" but she's getting there. Yes, there are possesed beings walking about. Yes, Philippe is still awesome.

Happy Writing, Happy Reading, Happy Whatever.

And as usual: Love it or hate it, please let me know! (all reviewers invited to vampire ice cream social...just because that sounds so good right now...with our favorite vamps up for Q&A...whatever will you ask them?)