Title: The Devil We Know
Summary: Christine Daae is the daughter of a recently deceased mafia boss. Suddenly, she finds herself toted as an up and coming gang leader, learning from the Phantom, a man who is feared by even the most powerful in the field as a notorious hit man. Will Christine find the strength to carve her own path, disregarding both darkness and light? Raoul's in it too. I guess.
Disclaimer: Phantom isn't copywritten any more, is it? I don't know. But the book belongs to Leroux and the musical belongs to Andrew Lloyd Webber. Regardless, Erik, Christine, and Raoul aren't my original characters.
Author's Note: Thanks for all the awesome reviews. And hey, more story! Gotta love that. Sara helped me brainstorm ideas for this one, so I blame her.
Chapter Seven: The Diva and the Weasel
Erik started to exit the cellar, leaving Nadir to clean up the second assassin's bloody mess.
"Well, now that Christine has me as her bodyguard that frees you to go track down the person responsible for this. You are always going on about how you're some amazing former hit man and master spy. So do your job." Nadir's words stopped Erik in mid step and he turned on him sharply.
"First, you are NOT her bodyguard. I am. And second, if I find out you left her alone for one second, I will kill you," Erik snapped angrily. Nadir continued to peer down at the body, possibly wondering how best to get rid of it. "Hey, I'm serious. I will kill you."
Nadir started toward the corpse only to have a bullet crack into the wall inches from his face, sending tiny splinters of wood flying. Shocked, he stared at Erik with wide, bulging eyes. "Did you just shoot at me?!"
Waving his gun as if punctuating his words with harmless hand motions, Erik explained, "I told you. You didn't look convinced."
"You SHOT at me, you crazy son of a bitch!"
Erik jammed the gun back into its holster as he quirked an eyebrow. "I'm just saying. Death."
Then he turned and exited the cellar, leaving Nadir to gape after him before growling, "Goddamn psychopath."
Erik paused in the main area of the club, staring at the stairs leading up to the second floor rooms. Crippling panic kept him from moving up the steps to check on Christine. His hand reached up instinctively to hide the ruined half of his face even though it was already covered by his mask.
"Is Christine okay?" A worried male voice asked from a few feet beside him.
Erik turned to stare at Raoul in disbelief. "Boy, are you insane? On drugs? Or are you looking for a new pair of cement shoes before your trip to the river?"
Erik's hands twitched in the gloves he wore as he fought to control the urge to strange the handsome young man before him. Raoul stood his ground defiantly, his pale face pinched with worry. Then Erik noticed the red on his hands and shirt and remembered Christine's plea not to hurt him. Gritting his teeth, Erik barely managed to keep from choking the boy. "Get away from me. Madame Giry, take care of him."
Erik started up the stairs only to have Raoul grab him by the shoulder. In a fast, decisive movement, Erik's hand snaked up to wrap around Raoul's neck, the other pulling his gun from the holster at his back. He shoved the barrel of the pistol to Raoul's temple as his fingers dug into his trachea. His index finger itched to squeeze the trigger, such a small action and this pest would be gone from his life.
Forcing himself to exhale a ragged breath, Erik closed his eyes for a moment and leaned his head to the side to relax his neck muscles. He carefully lowered the gun from Raoul's head until it hung near his side. It took more control to loosen his fingers from around the blonde man's neck, but Raoul eventually stumbled back coughing. "Leave. Now."
Raoul rubbed at his injured, red throat, but did not move. Erik shot the floor at Raoul's feet, making him jump in surprise. "Do I look like I'm joking with you, son?! GO!"
Erik watched him rush out of the half-empty club. Once Raoul was outside, he glanced back and saw Erik still staring at him with the gun in his hand.
Raoul left without much fuss after that and Erik grumpily holstered the gun. Without further distractions, he returned to the steps, heart sinking as he thought of all the trouble waiting for him when he reached Christine. Sighing, he reasoned she probably wouldn't want to deal with him anymore. He would still watch over her from the shadows as he had done on occasion when she was younger, but it was hard to go back when he knew what he was missing.
He had trudged halfway up the stairs when Meg walked out into the hall. She saw him making his slow, hesitant steps and rolled her eyes. "Hey, hurry up. Christine won't shut up about wanting to see you. She thought you'd left without saying goodbye."
She brushed passed him as she hurried downstairs to help clean. Erik continued his trek to Christine's room and paused outside the door. Meg had left it open an inch and he could see Christine from her place on the bed. She was flat on her back still, an oversized shirt serving as her pajamas. She held a small, furry toy at arm's length, staring up at it.
The cymbal monkey chimed a special tune that made his breath catch. And she was humming along to it with a smile on her lips.
"Don't remember the words?" Erik asked as he finally opened the door and walked inside. She sent him a curious expression and he sang, "Masquerade… paper faces on parade. Masquerade… hide your face so the world will never find you."
Christine gazed at him as he sang the lyrics to a song she hadn't heard since childhood. His voice, normally a full of power and seduction, transformed into a mysterious instrument that held her entranced, barely breathing for fear that the sound would distract from the full enjoyment of his song.
When he trailed to silence, she couldn't help but feel a sudden, aching emptiness. The cymbal monkey had stopped playing as well and the air hung heavy with sadness in the absence of such beauty. He spoke when he realized Christine was about to cry. "I should have known this was too much for you. Please forget about tonight. We'll act like nothing happened. Will you do that for me? Will you forget the horrors I've shown you?"
"Why?" Christine demanded, voice wavering.
"I don't want…" He had to exert tremendous self control to keep from whispering. "Because I shouldn't have shown you."
"It's too late for that, Erik." She watched as his expression grew sad, as if he knew what was coming. "I'm glad that you trusted me enough to show me. Your trust in me is something I treasure."
"And what about my face?"
"Your face is part of who you are, Erik. It is something so deeply ingrained in the person you've become, it has shaped your entire personality. How can I hate it? I've already accepted far worse about you." She said then grinned. "Like your age. I mean, really. Dad much, Erik?"
He looked so dumbfounded by her words that she finally had to add, "No matter how much I try to accept you, it won't matter if you insist on hating yourself."
They lapsed into silence until Christine remembered, "So, did you already find out who the assassin was working for?"
"No. Someone got to him while Nadir's back was turned."
"He's dead then." Christine sighed, rubbing her forehead where a dull headache hammered against her temples. "Oh well. Still, I'm a little worried that Nadir wants to be my bodyguard. He doesn't have the best track record of keeping people alive."
A smirk turned one corner of Erik's lips up as a darkly amused glint came into his eyes. "Don't worry, I've already talked to him. We reached an understanding on the subject of your safety."
Christine waited for him to continue, but he seemed to be done talking about it. "Do you have any idea who could have hired the hit?"
"There are a few leads." Erik replied, glancing at his watch. It was almost time for him to pay his biggest suspect a visit. She would be back in her headquarters soon. After all, it only took thirty minutes to get to Carlotta's base from the nightclub.
Since he was polite, he had given her a little bit longer before he imposed upon her hospitality.
"Christine, I have to go take care of some business. I'll leave some pain killers with Meg for when the anesthesia wears off." Erik said, and was surprised when she reached up her arms expectantly. "What's wrong?"
"You aren't coming back so I'm saying goodnight." She explained, gesturing for him to come closer. He walked across the room hesitantly and knelt down next to the bed. Slipping her arms around his shoulders, she held onto him until he had to bend over to allow her a better embrace. "You're really bad at hugging. Damn."
"Oh," he placed one hand on her uninjured side of her waist and raised the other to brush his knuckle against her jaw line. She smiled at him tiredly, eyes already blurry from sleep. He kissed the corner of her lips softly before reaching up to take her hands in his and gently pry them from his shoulders. He placed a kiss on both of her palms and then let her arms drop back down to her sides. "Goodnight, Christine. Sleep well."
"Don't work too hard, Erik," she murmured, already succumbing to the sleep that welled up within her. He watched her eyes droop shut before reluctantly standing to leave. What he would give to lie there with her, holding her close throughout the night, even in sleep.
As he shut the door behind him, he muttered under his breath, "Careful now. Don't get greedy."
The Prima Donna was a casino and hotel in the heart of the downtown area. The old building originated as a whiskey brewery under the disguise of a warehouse owned by simple people who didn't care for the prohibition laws. Carlotta's family made other's indulgences its business.
Erik parked his car himself, ignoring the valet who tried to wave him down as he turned off the main street into the lot beside the building. As he got out of the car, he wondered if his long standing ban from the casino was still in effect. Grinning, he remembered how he had nearly cheated the house out of business in the course of a single night. He had cheated, of course, but they didn't know that. He was very careful when he cheated.
Which is why he was truly affronted when they kicked him out without giving him his money. Carlotta's father had run the establishment at the time and he was just as proud as his daughter. Only he was allow to cheat in his casino.
The valet stared at him as he approached from the lot and ran for the entrance where he exchanged words with the bouncer. The large, muscular man crossed his arms and glanced at the person who had upset the valet. When he saw the masked man striding toward them confidently, he had to lean back against the building to keep from collapsing.
Erik walked right passed their meager attempts to get his attention. The red carpet that ran from the entrance of the casino to the slot machines up front absorbed the sound of his leather shoes. The young woman exchanging money for chips at the counter openly gawked at him, dropping the chips she was counting. He knew where Carlotta would be: the second floor office that looked down across the entire casino floor with its reflective, observation window.
Navigating his way through the crowds of people happy to lose their money, Erik found the red stairs far in the back of the ground floor. Piangi was waiting there for him, still wearing the same gaudy suit from the masquerade party. "Why are you here?"
"I'm surprised at your diva's lack of hospitality for a guest."
"You know you aren't allowed in here."
"I think you are mistaken. I go where I want. And now I am here to speak with Carlotta." Erik ground out from between clenched teeth. "I am very disappointed with her underhanded use of a hit man tonight."
Piangi stared at him in confusion. "Wait, I thought you were a hit man for-"
The look of pure hatred in Erik's eyes shut Piangi's mouth instantly. Voice laced with venom, he said, "I am going to see Carlotta. Move out of my way. I won't say it again."
Piangi thought for a moment before starting up the stairs first. Erik followed behind him, amused that Piangi would turn his back on such a dangerous enemy. Love made people into fools, he realized with grim fascination. He wondered if he too was falling prey to its siren song. He had been unreasonably sloppy these past days.
Well, he had gone into enemy territory alone and without a plan in response to the threat on Christine's life, so he supposed it was safe to say he was the biggest fool in this play.
Carlotta reclined on a spacious couch, her legs propped up on the arm rest as she sipped at a tumbler of gold liquid. She nearly choked on her drink when Piangi held the door open and Erik entered in a swirl of black cloth. Apparently Piangi wasn't the only one who had forgotten to change after the masquerade.
She handed her glass to a nearby assistant as she rose from the comfortable position to stand at full height. He peered at her from behind that insufferable mask, the left half of his face just as blank as the glass covering the right. "Well? What brings you to my neck of the woods, Phantom? Shouldn't you be tending to your poor, little bird?"
No reaction. He reached calmly into his pocket and pulled out a slip of paper. "An assassin tried to kill Christine tonight. Then another assassin killed the one that we caught and left this note in blood."
"Madame Giry's is a hot bed of activity nowadays," Carlotta stifled a yawn with her delicately manicured hand. "But how does it relate to me?"
"There are only so many people in the mafia conceited enough to think I won't kill them, Carlotta." A dark, lethal look flashed across his face then and she had the decently to pale considerably. "You are one of them. And I know you want Christine dead. She reminds you too much of Elizabeth. You fear her potential."
"You insult me," Carlotta snapped, amusing Erik immensely. "Why would I do such a stupid thing right after arguing with the girl in public? That would just pin me as a suspect. No, these crude tactics are best left to those imbeciles working for Firmin."
Carlotta paused before adding, "Not everyone keeps a personal hit man at their beck and call, Phantom. Elizabeth knew how to manipulate you splendidly, but then, she did learn from the best."
He forced himself to keep his face blank, unreadable. When he spoke, his voice was icy and he pointedly ignored her comment. "Firmin then. If you'll excuse me, I have to track down a weasel."
As he left, Carlotta's voice floated after him, "Oh, if you're looking for Firmin, his gang frequents the dock warehouses. I've heard they have itchy trigger fingers, so try not to be seen if you value your life. I'd hate to see your little princess lose her favorite heirloom."
Erik couldn't leave the casino fast enough. He was exhausted, but at least he had another lead to follow. An ache was working up his spine, making his shoulders and neck stiff to the point of excruciating pain. To make matters worse, Carlotta's taunts still rang clearly in his head, throwing his emotions off balance. He didn't trust himself not to kill Firmin if he met him in his current state, so it would have to wait.
By the time he reached his Buick, all Erik wanted to do was crawl back to Christine and fall asleep beside her listening to the quiet sounds of the night. Ever a realist, he settled with getting into his car and driving back to his basement room under the Opera House to get a few hours of fitful sleep alone.
The docks were more depressing in the harsh light of day than Erik ever remembered them being at night.
A series of rickety piers stood in what was left of the once proud marina. Various, rusting fishing boats and clunky shipping freighters floated at the metal and wood docks, the laborers in a constant frenzy of loading and unloading the goods to nearby warehouses. The warehouses were simple, brick and metal structures built to resemble large sheds. They were single room studios that houses giant wooden crates before they could be loaded onto trucks and taken to their final destinations.
One warehouse with the named FIRMIN CO. stenciled in blocky blue letters along one brick wall outside served as both warehouse and headquarters for Firmin's small time gang. Erik slipped undetected through a smaller office door while the men distracted themselves with the chaos of moving a large shipment in through the shipping entrance.
A skinny, jittery man sat behind a desk in the small office, enjoying the air-conditioner while his gang slaved away with menial labor in the afternoon sun. Even the combined reek of rotting fish and polluted water failed to penetrate the soothing confines of the office. Erik watched Firmin scribble heatedly at a document for a few moments, wondering when the weasel man would notice him standing in plain view.
Finally, he sighed, "I could have killed you several times by now, Firmin. Pay attention."
Firmin jumped in his seat, hitting his knees against the bottom of his desk painfully. He winced and rubbed at his legs. "W-What are you doing here?! How did you get in? The door was locked!"
Erik held both hands up and wiggled his fingers. "Magic. But don't worry. I locked it behind myself. Wouldn't want someone to barge in and interrupt us."
Firmin leaned back as Erik walked forward, trying to put more distance between them. Erik paused halfway to the smaller man's desk. Something was wrong here.
He took another step forward and Firmin began trembling uncontrollably. He stomped on the ground and Firmin nearly pissed his pants, a whimper of fear escaping his lips. Sighing, Erik threw his hands up in frustration and Firming actually dove under the desk for cover. Eyeing the desk, Erik barked, "You didn't order a hit on Christine Daae. You probably can't even order anyone to do ANYTHING. This is a waste of time."
One hand reached up cautiously to grip the edge of the desk and Firmin slowly pulled himself up. "N-no… why would I want to kill that girl?"
"Because she's going to rule this entire area one day, if all goes according to plan. What respectable member of the mafia would willingly submit to the rule of another?"
"That's true, but I'm just a businessman. I don't want to rule over the whole area. My first concern is making money and Miss Daae's family made my job easier. Her father was a strict regulator of drug traffic in this city. The drug draught boosted my profits immensely." Firmin slowly retrieved his office chair, which had fallen backward. "If anything, I owe Miss Daae for my current financial stability."
A slow, humorless smile spread across Erik's lips as he remembered his conversation with Carlotta the night before and Firmin stared in terror. "Oh, she thinks she's so smart."
A knock on the door brought Erik back to his senses. Casting one last, long look at the tiny man in the faded business suit, he turned to leave. "I won't take up anymore of your time, Firmin. If I find out you lied to me, your life is forfeit."
Erik unlatched the office door and stepped back to allow the new person to enter. Raoul froze in place, shocked to find Erik in his boss's office. Erik glared at the young man, anger rising fast.
Raoul slammed passed Erik into the room and heaved a sigh of relief upon seeing Firmin unharmed. "Boss, what's the Phantom doing here?"
"Shut up, boy," Firmin replied hastily. "Do you want to die?!"
From his place at the door, Erik asked in a mockingly congenial voice, "Now, what I want to know is this: what does a member of Firmin's gang want with Christine Daae?"
Raoul frowned, obviously trying to come up with a convincing lie. Finally, he admitted reluctantly, "What does any man want with a lady from Madame Giry's?"
Erik slammed the door and locked it again, whirling on Raoul with a look of fury on his half masked face. "I must have misunderstood you. My hearing isn't what it used to be. Did you just call her a whore?"
"Your words, not mine." Raoul replied calmly. "But it's as good a word as any for a woman of her profession."
Before Erik could reach for his gun, Firmin grabbed Raoul by his ponytail and yanked him down to eye level. "Son, you are in for a world of hurt once our guest is gone. Now, if you value your life, then DON'T DISOBEY ME AGAIN."
Firmin shoved Raoul hard and he stumbled into the wall behind him for support, rubbing at his scalp. The tension was still high, but Erik was now in control enough to resist shooting the boy. Nodding once to Firmin, Erik stormed out of the office, leaving the putrid docks behind him.