Erik heard a deep laugh come from up above their place in the sand. His head shot up and he saw three men sitting up on the rocks staring down at them. One of them recoiled when he saw Erik's face and the other two just laughed at their surprised expressions. Christine softly shrieked and she clung to Erik as they both tried to scramble up off the ground, flinging sand in every direction.
"My, my Andre," one of them said to the man who had winced at seeing Erik unmasked, "looks like we got us a free peep show and a freak act all in one." He laughed roughly and his friends chortled with him. He stood up from the rocks and started to make his way down the boulders where Erik was frantically trying to brush the sand from his mask and replace it onto his face. He pushed Christine behind him protectively and she cowered there, breathing hard from the unexpected shock of finding themselves with an audience. He started to step back toward the shore, keeping himself between them and Christine.
The lead man was tall and swarthy with a thick beard and what sounded like a heavy German accent. He was holding a large brown bottle in one hand and his sleeves were pushed back to reveal massively thick forearms. He had sweat dripping down the sides of his darkly tanned face that pooled under his chin and wet the front of his shirt.
"Hey sweetheart, how much is he payin' you?" the second man called down to Christine.
The leader continued the insult, "Dorian, I don't think you can afford her. He must have had to save his entire life to afford a whore of that quality who'd be willing to take him up." He laughed again at his own wit.
Erik cursed himself for being caught so exposed and unaware. Never before had his guard been so completely down. Christine was the only thing in the world distracting enough to make him forget to look over his shoulder at all times, and now he feared for her safety above all else. He had a small concealed blade that he always kept on his person, but that would do little against three large men should they attack. He could likely defend Christine so she might get away, but he would not be able to escape himself unscathed. This was what he had been afraid of and what he warned Christine about. He whispered a fast fervent prayer that these men would leave them alone and not harm Christine. He prayed he would not have to kill them in front of her, but if that's what it came to then so be it. He continued to back away, shooing Christine back the way they came down the beach towards the steps.
Dorian replied to the remark, "I don't think he's gotten his money's worth yet, Kurt. Check out the tent! There must be a whole circus in there trying to get out!" his crude remark sent Erik's face ablaze in shame and misery and the reason behind the taunt vanished as quickly as it had appeared.
"I'm not a whore!" Christine cried out indignantly as she tried to step out to confront the men. Erik turned to her and gave her a sharp stern look with his eyes that translated to say she should not draw attention to herself. She withdrew, seeing the grave expression he gave.
The men simply laughed out loud at her outburst and jumped down off the last rocks to stand before them. "Aww, c'mon sweetie. Everyone knows every woman's a whore, some are just more expensive!" The German called out to her.
Christine trembled on his arm. She was terrified of what they might do. Erik kept pushing her back away from where they had lain as the three men advanced on them, attempting to surround and cut them off from their retreat. The rocks they clambered down blocked off most of their path of escape. He could not back away and seem threatening to them so he stopped moving and stood his ground.
"Gentlemen, I would advise you to leave immediately. We have no wish for company," he said. His voice was low with the threat but it carried over the sound of the ocean to the men's ears. They were instantly outraged that a man like him would dare speak to them.
"Listen to that," the one called Kurt said to his companions. "He thinks he owns this stretch of beach," he said angrily. Then in a surprisingly calm voice he said, "We aren't looking for trouble. We just want a little fun."
Erik's hackles were up and he reached behind his back to untie the lace that held his knife in place along his spine. Christine saw him do it and her eyes went wide with fear as she realized what he might be forced to do. She had never seen him fight another human being before, but from what she gathered of his horrific stories of his past, she knew unless these men left them alone, there would be bloodshed.
"Yeah, we just want to have some fun, like you were. Unless you want to put on another show for us, freak," Dorian purred as he flanked them on the left. "Maybe we can put on our own show and see just how ugly we can get that face to look," he said as he cracked the knuckles in his fist. A few more strides and their path of retreat would be gone.
"I'm afraid not gentlemen, the show is over," Erik growled at them while he took a menacing step forward.
Erik knew deep in his gut what would happen to Christine if he failed to get her out of there. He said to her in a voice so low they would never hear it, "Christine, I want you to run for the inn. Right now, do you understand?"
She nodded, but stood frozen to the spot. When she didn't move he roared at her, "Go now!"
She bolted for the opening between the rocks as Erik gripped his knife in his fist and advanced on the men.
Three things happened all at once. A gout of blood splashed across the white sand of the beach as Erik's panther-like reflexes lashed the blade out and connected it with the arm of his first assailant slicing deep to the bone; Dorian roared in pain and outrage clutching his mangled limb in his hand. Kurt's fist connected with Erik's face and sent his mask flying onto the rocks before Erik could get another swipe in. And Christine never made it through the rocks before Andre tackled her down to the ground. The weight of his body slammed into her back, half knocking the wind from her lungs and crushing her into the sharp edges of a boulder that lay just under a thin covering of sand.
Terrified for Christine's safety, Erik fought off the two others. Dorian soon forgot his bloodied arm and he tried to help Kurt to unarm him. Erik's lightening fast reflexes were too much for them. He couldn't see out of his left eye due to the blood trickling off his brow from the punch to the face he received but he knew from years of experience in fights how to bring his opponents down. He slashed in tight swift circles at the two men, feeling the resistance of the blade as is cut through clothing and into flesh. Kurt howled as the knife's edge sliced across his belly, splitting the skin and cutting into the fat beneath it. He crumpled to the ground holding his wound. At seeing the blood spout out from the waistline of his companion, Dorian gave up the fight and started to scramble away, crabbing backwards on the ground while holding his still bleeding arm.
Christine meanwhile tried to scramble away as her breath returned to her, but the weight of his sweaty body pinned her legs painfully to the ground. The rough stones that jutted up from the sandy shore scraped into her hands as she tried to find solid purchase of anything to pull herself up by. He tried to hold onto her while attempting to tear her clothing away and undo the buckle to his belt but could only find grip on the cloth of her skirts. She rolled under her clothes to her side, kicking furiously at her attacker, managing to plant one solid boot into his groin. He let out a stream of incomprehensible profanity as he crumpled into a ball. She got to her feet sent one hard boot tip flying into his face, feeling the sickening crunch of a broken nose underneath her toe. Blood burst all over his face and her shoe in an awful wet pop.
He roared at her through a blood bubble in his mouth, "You fucking bitch!" as he ducked his head to his chest, unable to decide whether to still hold his bruised crotch or the broken appendage between his eyes.
She saw Erik coming towards her, without his mask and with one eye swollen shut, but otherwise seemed unharmed. She started to run once more, feeling the blood drip down her arms from the cuts on her arms where the rocks had skinned them. Her head reeled and she saw spots before her eyes from the lack of oxygen. His strong hand grasped hers as he caught up with her and they both ran for the cliff steps.
They were surprised to find there were other people on the beach at the other end, unaware of Christine and Erik or the three men who attacked them. A teenage boy and his girlfriend stared wide-eyed at them as they ran past and asked if they were alright. Erik was beyond caring who saw him unmasked at the moment as they passed. His only concern was for Christine's safety and his blood boiled and chilled him as he thought of what just nearly happened to her. He curled his arm around her waist protectively and led her up the steps, taking care not to slip in their haste. He still held the knife in one white knuckled hand.
Christine's breath came in short gasps and the heat from the air dried her mouth. She tasted blood and realized her lip had split when she connected with the rock she had fallen on. She spat out bloody spittle onto the gravel pathway and wiped her mouth with the back of her scraped and bruised wrist. Her hand shook from fear and adrenaline and her heart still beat so rapidly in her chest she felt it would never slow again. She was only vaguely aware of Erik's firm grasp on her body as he led her to the inn. She had been so terrified of what the man was going to do to her, but her frantic thoughts were mostly for Erik. She had been unable to see him where he fought the other two men and as she lay struggling for freedom, all she could think of was going to Erik to help. Useless as she knew she was, she could only think of getting to him before it was too late. She nearly cried out with relief when she saw him running towards her through the dark and sandy rocks, safe. A million horrific possibilities had flashed through her mind but she was surprised to find that the possibility of being raped or murdered herself was the least of her fears. As she imagined finding Erik's ruined body lying motionless in sand where they had just shared the beginnings of intimacy, her stomach went into knots and convulsions and she stopped to lean away from him and wretch into the tall grass beside the path.
Erik held her at the waist and watched her vomit convulsively into the dirt. She spat bile from her mouth and wiped her mouth on her sleeve, then collapsed to the ground in a sudden exhaustion as the adrenaline ran out and failed to keep her body going. He shook with anger and fear for her and did not know quite what to do. As much as he longed to go back down to the beach and finish the men off in the most horrible fashion he could imagine possible, he knew he needed to take care of Christine more. He looked up when he heard footsteps running toward them. Marie's stableman was approaching along with another young man Erik did not recognize. Erik knelt by Christine's side protectively and ignored the expression of shock as the stableman saw his unmasked face.
"We heard a lady scream," the young man explained. "I was on the far end of the beach with my friends and they told me to go for help."
Erik nodded at the explanation of how someone got to them so quickly. He fussed over Christine, not allowing her to attempt to stand. The stableman offered his handkerchief to Erik to wipe the blood from Christine's arms and face, which he gladly accepted.
"What happened sir?" he asked as he caught his breath.
"Three men attacked us down on the beach beyond the rocks," Erik explained hurriedly. "Send for the gendarmes and a doctor!" he shouted at them, "They may still be down there!"
"Erik, I'm fine," Christine protested feebly but Erik ignored her.
The young man ran quickly away to get help from town and the stableman returned to fetch Marie from the inn.
"Christine, are you alright?" Erik's voice shook. He touched her face tenderly, feeling sick at seeing the split skin of her beautiful lip. He looked over her other wounds as he gently pushed the sleeves back up her arms. Most of the cuts were superficial but one across her palm looked particularly nasty and sand was driven between the puckered flesh causing it to look worse than it probably was.
"Erik, I said I'm fine," Christine replied timidly. She knew she was not, but she couldn't stand to see Erik so alarmed. She looked him over and aside from the swelling cut across his eyebrow he didn't have a mark on his person. 'Erik, your mask…" she started to point out.
"I don't care about that right now," Erik cut her off. "Do you think you can walk?"
Christine started to stand up and winced at the pain coming from her knees where she had fallen. She never made it to her feet before Erik scooped her up and started carrying toward the inn. Christine gratefully wrapped her arms around his neck, thankful he was alright. She wanted to get inside the inn where she knew it was safe.
Marie met them only a short distance from the front gate. She appeared shocked and horrified to learn they had been attacked. To her credit, she only took one brief glance at Erik's bare face before she addressed them.
"Oh, Christine; Monsieur! Quickly, come inside!"
Her stableman attempted to take Christine from Erik's arms but quickly realized he was not going to let her go and fell back to follow them inside. Erik gently placed Christine onto the couch by the fireplace, touching her face gently and never taking his eyes off her. Marie ordered her maid to fetch warm water and bandages for them both.
"Would you please bring some brandy as well," Erik requested in a calm voice that belied his murderous anger. He needed a good stiff drink to calm down and prevent him from leaving her side. For once, he decided it would be best to allow the gendarmes to handle the situation. He needed to care for Christine now. So they might take him seriously, he needed to fetch his other mask from his room.
"Christine, I'll be right back," he said as Marie and the maid returned with water and cloth.
She nodded, not wishing for him to leave, but grateful to be in the protection of a familiar place. Erik hurried upstairs to his room where his belongings had been redistributed. He knew he would get blood on the mask, but there was little to be done about that and he did not wish to take time away from Christine to bother bandaging his cut first. He wet his hand in the basin and wiped most of the blood from his face then dried it quickly. A small trickle of blood still oozed from the cut, which was smaller than he originally thought. He tied the mask onto his face and hurried back downstairs to find an officer standing in the room questioning Christine.