Hello readers!

I hope everyone (those of you who partake) had a wonderful Halloween! Mine, for one, was VERY hectic as my daughter's birthday is on 10/30 and then the chaos of Halloween celebrations. We will have candy until May, I swear!

Anyways, I apologize for the post being behind. The upcoming chapters have been rather difficult to complete to my liking. But in this chapter we see the two most stubborn people try to make sense of what happened. Please read and review and let me know what you think thus far.

Regards,

J.D.

Chapter 9 – A Talk over Tea

Consciousness called to me through the darkness. As reality began to shift in my mind and the dizziness subsided, I could tell even without opening my eyes, my destination was far from the apartment. An unnatural hum echoed throughout the area as if I was situated next to a drainage pipe. The air felt heavy and moist as the smell of water and dust invaded my senses. The sheets were soft and silky over my hardly clothed body.

And God did it ache!

Every inch of my arms down to my toes were on fire with pain. My head was a fury of swirling agony as the burning in the back of my skull became even more prominent.

My body writhed in discomfort, trying desperately to remove the feeling away from my nerves. A whimper escaped my lips into the dank room, which I could now tell was completely enclosed. Even through the pain, curiosity ate at me like a starved animal. I wrenched my eyes open and was greeted by more blackness. Nothing gave away where I was but the hum was accompanied with a rhythmic tinkling sound. Only one thing was for certain, I was near water.

I attempted to sit up in the bed I was laying in but another wave of dizziness hit, disorienting which way was up and which was down. I swayed to my left and fell down with a deafening crunch, taking some solid object with me. The cold stone floor soothed the pounding in my head. A shaft of gray light shot through the room as I heard someone approaching. Frigid, smooth hands crawled under my back and under my knees as I felt the sensation of being lifted. After laying me back down, gentle fingers crossed my forehead and slipped down the side of my face. I moved to follow the calming gesture but they were gone.

"Sleep. Soon the pain will be gone." The sweetest, most melodic voice tickled the space within my head.

I was submerged back into the twilight zone, falling deeper and deeper down the rabbit hole I struggled so hard to surface from.

When I awoke for the second time, everything was much clearer. The unearthly humming continued as my senses righted themselves. The room came into view with an oil lamp burning on the vanity across from me. I was surrounded by sheets of crimson and sheer curtains hung from the canopy bed. Where the hell was I?

Slowly, I swung my feet around and placed them gingerly on the cool, smooth surface of the stone.

Looking to my right, I noticed a small ribbon of light protruding into the room. The door silently opened to a stone hallway, with tapestries and sculptures adorning the walls.

"Hello?" I called out, my voice echoing down the empty hallway.

No one answered.

"Is anyone there?" I tried again. The dull ache in my head swelled and I had to lean against the stone wall for support.

There was light coming down from a stairwell on the opposite end of the hallway. Carefully, I climbed the steps, my weight never leaving the support of the wall.

The stairs emptied out into a large living area, with a dying fire settled within the cobblestone hearth. The room was scantily decorated with a few bookshelves, an armchair and a worn settee positioned in front of the fire. Behind the settee, there was an entryway with a coat rack and two huge mahogany doors. To my surprise, they didn't have any handles on them.

'Where the hell am I?'

I stumbled into the room and went towards the fireplace to gather its warmth. It was very cold in this place and as I took a seat on the settee, I noted there weren't any windows.

"Hello, is there anyone here?" I cried out once more as desperation leaked into my voice.

"I see you are finally conscious."

I jumped at the voice seemingly coming from everywhere. In a recessed corner of the wall by the stairwell, a figure stood against the frame of a doorway I hadn't noticed before. The figure stepped farther into the room and the dim light danced off the pearly, white mask.

"It's you." I groaned, my heart clambering heavily within my chest. "Where am I?"

"You are in my sitting room." He crossed his arms over his chest. "Are you not impressed?" He watched as I took another glance around, a look of dreary comprehension on my face.

"Why am I here?" I shivered. The pain in my head began to throb incessantly. My fingers went to my forehead and caught the seam of a bandage across the right side of my brow.

"You were injured and for some reason I felt obligated to see that you were taken care of. I brought you here where I knew we wouldn't be followed." He crossed the remainder of the room and sat heavily in the armchair. His fingers smoothed back his dark hair and then hung awkwardly off the sides of the chair.

I played with the bandage while my mind tried to remember what happened. I couldn't seem to pull all of the memory out from the darkness.

"What happened? Were you following me? How did we get here?" I begged him for an answer. Only short, flashes of scenes flew through my head of the attack. Then nothing. There needed to be some clarity.

He sighed. "Let's just make one thing clear, I was not following you. This is, after all, my opera house, and where it is normal for the likes of me to be meandering the building late at night, it is not for a young woman. I was following the three miscreants who took an interest in your whereabouts. I was merely curious as to the outcome. They had specific interests in you and wanted to kidnap you. I did what any person would have they befallen such a scene...I took care of them."

"Did you kill them?" I whispered.

He paused for a moment and brought his fingers together before answering. "I killed one."

I digested the information and couldn't bring myself to respond in any way, so I just shook my head. The movement caused another pang of agony and for a moment I thought I was going to be sick. My fingers dug into my skull as I tried mercilessly to stop the throbbing. "Ugh, my head!"

He came to kneel before me and swatted my hands away. The faint aroma of pine and burnt wood invaded my nose. "Let me take a look. I want to make sure it was sealed properly and that there are no signs of infection."

Erik slowly peeled away the bandage and peered closely at my brow. I watched him while he dabbed at my head and investigated the stitching. His eyes were still that breathtaking gray and the mask covered almost all of his face. There was only a small portion of his cheek and forehead uncovered on the other side of his face.

"It must be uncomfortable to wear something like that all the time."

His eyes flickered to mine and his concentration faltered. For an instant I regretted my outburst while his gaze burned into mine.

"It can be bothersome. However, it is more comfortable than the alternative." His face screwed up in reserved anger.

"I'm sorry...I didn't mean to-"

He interrupted me, "Gawk?"

"-Be rude." He returned the bandage harshly. I winced as he stood up and retreated to his chair.

"Don't apologize for being curious. Besides, it's obviously in your nature." He waved a hand towards me. "What were you doing wandering around the opera alone at such a late hour?"

"I...well, I was looking for you." Heat crept up my neck and burned into my cheeks.

"For what purpose?" He asked, playing with his fingers once more.

"You almost killed me, and you nearly crippled Alex." The memory of the light crashing down inches from me and the image of Alex's mangled leg brought back the stale anger of the night before. "I wanted an explanation, I guess."

"I warned you, Cassarah, to stay out of my business. You encouraged Kristina to leave here without my consent and behind my back. You knew what you were doing and what the repercussions were. It was so obviously intentional. I was just sending you a message...The boy was collateral damage." He looked away into the sizzling embers of the remaining fire.

"The opportunity for Kristina to study in London for a couple months wasn't something I made up. I only encouraged her because it would be great for her career. You can't deny her that."

"I make no claim on Kristina, only the voice she harbors. Do you really think she would have come this far without her guiding Angel of Music!? She was searching for something no less than a miracle. How could I deny her that? She may not know poor Erik, who pines for her, loves her and would do anything for her, but she does know the Angel and the voice who so patiently teaches her!" He madly exclaimed, his fingers digging into the arm of the chair. "Your ignorance has spoiled everything."

He gracefully fanned his fingers over his brow, shielding his glowing eyes in the process.

"I couldn't allow my best friend to become victim to some crazed, masked lunatic." I retorted.

He swiftly stood up and towered over me. I sunk deeper into the couch with his blazing eyes venomously glaring down at me.

"Mademoiselle, you speak such harsh words to a man who saved your life." He said, turning on his heel and disappearing into the doorway which he came from. The wood splintered when he slammed it shut.

Arguing with this man clearly wasn't going to get me anywhere. Gathering all the courage I could, I rose from the couch, steadying myself against the armrest. My eyes blinked away the speckles of light as my head surged with, harsh pounding pain. I fought the urge to be sick again and stumbled my way to the door.

The handle squeaked as it turned in my grasp.

Light poured into my view and I instantly moved to shield my eyes. Once they adjusted, a drawing room was unveiled. Oil lamps covered the walls and a small chandelier hung over the desk that stood against the farthest corner. Drawings littered every surface as beautiful paintings and sculptures lined the outskirts of the room. Erik sat unmoving at the desk, his head cradled within his long, skinny fingers. He was deep in thought.

"Erik?" I leaned heavily against the doorway.

"Leave." He muttered.

"Look, I'm sorry. I shouldn't say things like that. I'm throwing judgements around as if I know you. I mean...you do seem like a psychopathic murderer. But you did rescue me, no matter how much I hate to admit I needed rescuing. I should be thanking you." I gazed at him, battling the dizziness swirling within my head.

He said nothing.

I picked at nonexistent dirt beneath my fingernails as the silence grew between us. "So...why did you bring me here? The apartment was only a few blocks away...how did we even get here?"

Another moment of silence before the man sighed heavily as if each question stoked the flames of irritation.

He looked up at me. His eyes were stunning in the lamplight. "Mademoiselle, I already told you. I didn't want to run the risk of being followed. The mask prevents me from being able to simply waltz into any hospital or residence without incessant questioning. I deducted my humble abode-," he spit out the words in disgust. "-Would be the safest retreat for your recovery. As for your other question, I carried you."

"You...carried me?" A brow lifted on my face.

"Yes..." He stood up with such force, the wooden chair underneath him screeched into the wall. "Are you so dense as to not understand the point I am trying to make? This!" He hailed a violent gesture towards the mask on his face. "This…Prevents me from many normal customs."

"Is that why you live like this? It can't just be because of your face." I instantly regretted the question as his expression darkened.

He stalked closer to me as his eyes bore into mine. "You really lack common courtesy and with that any sense of fear. Do I not frighten you!?"

His voice echoed in drones as confusion carried my tongue away. "Uh...do you want me to be afraid of you?"

"Fear simplifies things. Perhaps then you wouldn't ask such impertinent questions." He pushed me aside and in a storm of anger began to descend down the stairwell.

"Hey! Wait!" I turned to rush after him.

I made it to the first step of the stairs before the whole world swirled before me. My hands flew in front of my body to brace for the impending crash down. I closed my eyes tight and waited for the pain.

A force stopped my plight in mid descent. I opened my eyes and realized I was only inches from the protruding edge of a stone step. Strong arms circled around my waist and pulled me to an upright position. My head slowly lifted from the ground and found yellow eyes centimeters away. My stomach tightened and the skin where he held me tingled ever so slightly. His eyes gave away a look of concern, and something deeper before they iced over once more. His gentle hold around my side dropped and he began down the hallway.

"Thank you." My voice was hushed as a lump began to form in my throat. Confusion set in at the strange spark igniting the nerves throughout my body.

"You need more rest. It would do us both good." He trudged to the open door and gestured for me to follow.

The tension between us shifted as I stared at him. "When can I go home?"

He sighed and rubbed the back of his neck. He looked exhausted. "Perhaps when you can walk on your own accord."

"Fair enough, I guess."

As I approached, he turned around and made for the end of the hall. Another door which was hidden amongst the shadows opened and closed behind him.

Resigning to the ill lit room, I laid back down on the soft bed, curling myself into a tight ball. The awkwardness of the whole situation settled within the pit of my stomach. He was a strange person, there wasn't any doubt in that, but deep within I could see the aspects of a man desperate for human connection. For reasons I couldn't quite comprehend, I had a slight attraction to the mystery behind his eerie, yellow colored eyes.

From the small conversations we've had, he seemed to be battling mostly with himself. How could someone shut themselves away and live such a life in this darkness and not go insane?

I turned over and stared at the oil lamp sitting on the vanity across from the bed. The distant hum returned this time but didn't offer any comfort from the unending thoughts and questions lingering in my mind.

My sworn enemy for the past few weeks was now my savior. I snickered at the irony and closed my eyes once more to try and invite sleep. As I laid there for a while, the pounding in my head began to subside but I couldn't rest my thoughts.

The faces of the three attackers flashed before my closed eyes, their grimy hands tearing at my body once again. The cool, smooth surface of the blade was rigid against my throat as the memory taunted me. I forced back the tears that pricked at my eyes and clenched them tightly shut, willing away the images from my mind.

These feelings reminded me of a time I've been trying to bury deep inside my memory. Years ago, when days were a bit more hazy and centered on the next hit of available heroin, there were situations in which any normal person would not find themselves in. There wasn't anything I wouldn't do for another score just to keep myself going for the next day. I knew it was getting bad when rape was an acceptable form of payment. I wasn't much more worthy than a piece of chewed gum.

I sighed and threw the covers off and once again climbed out of the bed, taking care not to jostle around too much. The sickening disorientation didn't come this time so I took a few feeble steps toward the oil lamp. Turning the metallic knob, the room brightened before me.

It was larger than I originally surveyed and was surprised to find a second door within. I opened it and gasped at an elegant bathroom. I gaped at the decorated, marble sink. A gold laced mirror ran the length of the counter and an iron claw bathtub sat next to it. Across from the bath, there was an ordinary toilet.

I stepped closer to the mirror and inspected my appearance.

I looked like hell. Blood and dirt caked the tattered cocktail dress I wore the night before. Heat invaded my face when I caught sight of the tear which provocatively stretched up my thigh. My hair was a ragged mess and dirt lined the frame of my round face. I smoothed back the blonde strands of hair jutting out of the mangled pony tail but gave up. Instead, I pulled the hair tie out, letting the length roll down to my chest.

The cold water from the faucet dripped down my face as I cupped more within my shivering hands. Beyond the chill, the water served to chase away any remaining haze from the events of the night before. I felt completely refreshed.

Returning to the bedroom, I grabbed a sheet off the bed and quietly exited through the door. The hallway was mostly silent except for the faint sound of unconnected piano notes and hushed breathing. My feet carried me down the hall to the other room, its door now cracked. Pausing for a moment, my fingers deftly pushed the wood open.

The room was completely black with thousands of music notes covering every inch of the walls. A tall, wooden mirror stood in the corner of the room, its top half smashed beyond recognition. Next to the mirror was an oak armoire with embellishments carved along the frame. In the middle of the room, on top of a mini pedestal was a wooden coffin. I shuddered.

Erik was sitting at a large piano, his head resting upon his arms. He must have taken his dress coat off for now he only had on a white dress shirt, his sleeves rolled up to his elbows. Beneath the shirt, his muscles flexed as his shoulders quaked.

"Erik?" I whispered gently.

He didn't move nor acknowledge my call.

The sheet crumbled against my chest and my fingers gripped it, holding in the nerves that twitched and fluttered in my stomach. I stopped behind him, catching the sound of quiet sobs muffled within his skin.

My hand fell to his shoulder.

A crushing force on my wrist rendered me shocked as he whirled me around and slammed me against the hard, black wall. His forearm instantly crushed against my throat as the air was forced from my lungs. The sheet dropped to the floor as Erik put the weight of his body against me. His unseeing eyes pierced through me as my fingers dug into his deathly hold. My eyes grew wide, the moment elongating to what felt like eternity.

"Erik...it's me...it's...Cass!" The air blew out with the force of each word. Recognition inched upon his face as his eyes fell down to his arm.

He released the pressure upon my throat as he retreated, bumping into the piano bench in the process.

He raked a hand roughly through his hair as we both stared wildly and out of breath.

He turned his back to me and took a moment to regain his composure. My fingers fondled the place where his strength tore at my neck.

Erik groaned. "Are you alright?"

"No." I snapped.

"You were supposed to be sleeping."

"I…I couldn't sleep." I felt the familiar pangs of dizziness tease my sight. I swayed and slid towards the ground.

Erik grabbed my arms and held my body sturdy against the wall for a moment before leading me to sit at the piano bench. The same spark rippled up my limbs and crashed to my abdomen.

"Your curiosity will one day get you killed."

"I'm sorry..."

The air hung heavy as silence once again wedged between us. He bent down and picked up the crumpled sheet and flung it out to me. I took it and draped it across my shoulders, a painful shiver running through my core.

Erik rubbed his forehead for a moment before charging towards me and taking my arm in his icy grip.

"Come to the sitting area. I will stoke the fire and you can get warm." He pulled me to my feet.

"Why did you-?"

"There are certain things in this world that you couldn't possibly fathom. Please, remove yourself from my bedroom."

I followed him silently back up the short flight of stairs and sat heavily on the dusty settee. I watched the fire come alive once more, the flames slowly consuming the tinder strategically placed around the hearth by Erik's quick movements. The warmth caressed my bear arms and legs and for the first time since consciousness, I felt comfortable.

Erik rounded the couch and entered into another door on the opposite wall as the drawing room.

Where the hell is he going now?

I left the comfort of the fireplace and entered into the dark room after him. It was a mini kitchen, with a very old looking stove, a sunken sink and a few counter tops with eating accessories lined across them. There were dark wooden cabinets along the wall and one tall pantry right next to the door.

He fiddled with some contraption on the far corner, muttering curses to himself until the thing groaned and came to life. Warm air trickled throughout the room.

"Um...what are you doing?" I asked, wrapping the sheet closer to me as I leaned against the door frame.

"I was lighting the furnace, a stubborn piece of metal in its old age." His hands smoothed back his dark, inky hair and he closed the grate in front of the glowing coils. "Since you are here in my home, I figured I would try to be a proper host and offer you some refreshment."

"Thank you for the offer, but I'm fine." My brow hitched in a curving arch watching him fumble around his kitchen.

Erik stopped his searching to address me, "Mademoiselle, surely you wish to regain your strength so you can return home. God knows I do. You need something in your stomach."

One by one, the cupboards opened and closed and he continued to rummage through his kitchen. Eventually, he produced a kettle, and a small, blue tin that clattered to the counter.

He eyed me warily. "I am not accustomed to having guests in my house...forgive me."

I left my station at the door frame and as my stomach let out a defiant growl, I began searching through the pantry. It was practically empty, save for a few cans of food and a pack of lemon tart cookies at the very top of the pantry. The wood creaked as I used the bottom shelf to heighten myself.

Erik finished arranging the kettle onto the stove, reached over my head and retrieved the package before giving me a stern look.

"By all means, help yourself."

I shrugged and took the package of cookies back to the settee in front of the raging fire. I tore the package open and bit into the bitter morsel. The thought of how strange this whole scenario was made me chuckle in exasperation. Never in my life of anomalies did I ever think I would end up on the couch of an estranged masked man. Who, at the moment, was making me something to drink.

A short while later, he returned with a tray of two mugs and a steaming kettle. He placed it on the end table next to the chair and poured out the hot liquid into the cups. He extended one to me, I accepted and took a cautious sip.

"No sugar?" I asked as my face screwed up in disgust. He glared at me before sitting down himself. "Right...no sugar then."

"Do you have the faintest idea of who those men were that attacked you? It seemed as if someone sent them." He asked, fingering the rim of his cup but did not take a drink.

I took another sip and let the weight of the question bear down on me. My body relaxed against the couch as the tea warmed my insides. "I have a feeling my past may be catching up to me...things that happened long ago that I desperately am trying to forget."

Erik picked up his mug and held it lightly between his fingers. "Do you think it has anything to do with your prior drug use?"

"How did you know that?" I gripped the cup within my fingers as he regarded me carefully.

"I am a man of many resources." He smirked.

"You read my case files…? You read my case files!? Do you have any sense of privacy?" I jabbed the question, my eyes shooting daggers at him.

"It was a strategic advantage. Does it not comfort you to know that I place no judgement against you?"

"How kind of you..." I coldly remarked, as I adverted my gaze to the crackling flames.

"Cassarah, things happen. Things have happened in my life that I wish I could bury deep within the graves of my mind. The atrocities of my past are a constant reminder as to why I shun myself away from the thriving population above. It's better that way. Your transgressions are nothing compared to mine. Though, in my instance, it is my past memories that haunt me, not ex-drug dealers."

"One of the attackers mentioned Mac...he was the kingpin back in my old world of drugs and hustling and money. He was ruthless and demanded loyalty from his little puppets. If he suspected you for a moment, you would be dead..." I cringed as that one fateful night forced its way into my mind.

"Why would they be after you after all these years?" He sat back and stroked his chin.

"Why do you care? It's not like it's any of your concern...where is my bag?" I asked, peering around the sitting room. I didn't remember seeing it in the bedroom.

He reached behind the armchair and pulled the bag off from the floor. He threw it towards me and then took one sip from his mug.

I rummaged through it until I caught the familiar corner of my pack of cigarettes. I dished one out from the container and held it between my lips. When my gaze returned to Erik, I noticed he was intently watching me.

"Do you mind?"