I stalked back to my room, all too eager to get away from Christine. My anger and frustration was about to consume me. For the life of me I could not figure out what was going through the girl's mind. One minute she seemed terrified, disgusted by me. The next she was belligerent, insulting my Opera.
I still could not figure out why she had run to her dressing room, of all the places she could have gone. She had to have thought I might be there. Or had she? Or was she hoping I would be there? Was this perhaps part of Raoul's scheme, something they had planned before she had ever gone to the meeting with the managers? I did not like thinking that, but it made as much, if not more sense, than if she had come to me willingly.
I sighed as I paced around my room. I had meant what I said to the managers. I wanted to continue my lessons with Christine. Even though she would never love me, I wanted to at least be near her, sing with her. She needed to see that marrying the Vicomte was a mistake, that her place was at the Opera. She thought she loved the boy, but he was not good enough for her. She deserved someone who would cherish her, adore her. She deserved someone who would appreciate her talents and support her career, not an ignorant boy who would look at her as merely a pretty face, a trophy to be displayed.
I did not know what to think of Christine, what to believe her motives were. It was hard for me to believe her capable of such deception as to be part of a plot with Raoul, a plot that, if they succeeded would mean my death. But my life had not taught me to be a trusting sort.
Unable to stay in my chambers any longer, I escaped to the roof of the Opera. What had once been my retreat, a place of solitude and silence, was now a source of bitter memories. I could not look at the statue of Le Victoire Ailee without remembering Christine and Raoul, planning their escape.
The air was crisp with a hint of autumn. I stood in the centre of the roof, staring up at the sky, at the moon and stars, my cloak swirling around me in the light breeze. I rarely gave the heavens much thought; I had given up believing in God a good many years ago. An Angel of Darkness had little use dwelling on Heaven. Night was my world. In darkness I could find peace, blending in with the shadows. I had dwelled so long in the dark that I had almost forgotten what the day was like. It had been a great many years since I had felt the warmth of the sun on my face.
From high above the streets of Paris I watched as buggies made their way along the streets. People bustled about, going about their lives, following their routines that they no doubt grew tired of, living lives of normalcy that they took for granted. What would I have given to live their dull lives?
I sighed. I could sit here forever wishing I had not been born with my hideous face, but I knew it did me no good. Christine, Christine, the only woman I had ever loved. She was so beautiful. How could I have ever been foolish enough to think she could ever love me, especially with a suitor like Raoul?
Unbidden, I remembered their embrace, their kiss. How young and innocent and full of love and dreams they were. I punished myself with thoughts of Christine, a beautiful young woman, in the arms of her handsome young suitor. They made such a perfect couple. Jealousy, bitter and ugly, churned inside of me and I clenched my fists.
I took a deep breath and looked out at the sparkling lights of the city. Far from clearing my mind, this visit to the roof had only served to stir up my emotions further. And Christine was down below in the bedroom I had designed and decorated just for her. What was she thinking, asking to stay with me in my dungeon? As much as I wanted to think there was meaning behind her actions other than to continue our lessons, I simply did not believe it. And if she was not there simply to continue our lessons, then she was in some kind of conspiracy with the Vicomte.
Knowing that I was unlikely to understand the workings of Christine's mind, I looked one last time at the city before I made my way back down to my lair.
I arrived at the far side of the lake and walked to the archway that led to my chambers. I activated the hidden switch that lifted the heavy wrought iron gate that barred entrance into my home. It creaked up and I walked through. I went straight to the kitchen to fix supper. By the time it was ready Christine had appeared in the doorway and was watching me silently.
I eyed her coolly. I had all but convinced myself that Christine and Raoul had a secret plan. I half expected the Vicomte to come rushing to the gate at any moment, determined to rid the Opera House of the Phantom once and for all. Then Christine would be free to marry Raoul.
My dark thoughts continued while we ate. Christine was quiet and withdrawn, retreating to her bedroom almost as soon as she had finished her supper.
After I cleaned up I went to the organ. I began playing and dove into the solace that was my music. I closed my eyes and poured my emotions into the music, reprising the words of The Music of the Night as I sang.
"Nighttime sharpens, heightens each sensation
Darkness wakes and stirs imagination
Silently the senses, abandon their defenses
Helpless to resist the notes I write
For I compose the music of the night
Slowly gently, night unfurls its splendour
Grasp it, sense it, tremulous and tender
Hearing is believing, music is deceiving
Hard as lightning, soft as candlelight
Dare you trust the music of the night?
Close your eyes, for your eyes will only tell the truth
And the truth isn't what you want to see
In the dark it is easy to pretend
That the truth is what it ought to be
Softly, deftly music shall caress you
Fear it, feel it secretly possess you
Open up your mind let your fantasies unwind
In this darkness which you know you cannot fight
The darkness of the music of the night
Close your eyes, start a journey to a strange new world
Leave all thoughts of the world you knew before
Close your eyes and let music set you free!
Only then, will you belong to me
You alone can make my song take flight
Help me make the music of the night."
The music seemed to wrap itself around me like an embrace, calming, comforting. I opened my eyes and turned. Christine was standing, wearing a frilly nightgown, watching me. Her eyes were wide and a lone tear slid down her cheek. Our eyes locked and for several moments all was silent. My heartbeat sounded unusually loud as it pounded in my ears.
"Erik…" she whispered, her expression open, wondering.
Frozen, I just looked at her, unable to make a sound. How I wanted to sweep her into my arms and hold her. Wipe away her tears and comfort her. I felt my defenses crumbling and I felt helpless to stop it. She seemed so young, so innocent, standing there in her nightgown and bare feet.
And then, in a flash, I remembered the ring, Raoul's ring that I had ripped off of her neck at the Masquerade. The ring that I kept in my pocket to remind me of her deceit.
An icy feeling washed over me. I did not know what game she was playing with me, but I was not about to let down my guard, not at this early stage in the game. To do so could quite possibly mean my defeat, and I did not take well to losing.
I stood, and her eyes followed me. My eyes narrowed and I took a deep breath. "Go to bed, Christine," I said harshly.
Her expression faltered. "What?"
"I said, go to bed."
"But…"
"Just go, Christine. Before I do something I will surely regret," I said between clenched teeth. I cursed my out-of-control emotions.
"You would never hurt me, Erik," Christine said. Her words were bold, but her voice wavered.
"You do not know what I can do," I said. Inwardly I realised that threatening her was probably not the best way to get her to trust me, but I was just so angry!
She gave me one last, searching look before she escaped to her room. The bang of the door slamming shut echoed through the room and I sighed.
xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx
The man was infuriating, simply infuriating! I sat in the middle of the bed, incensed. I did not understand anything. I did not understand what had happened, why Erik seemed to hate me now. I had come back to him, I had obeyed his wishes and returned for more lessons, and now it was as if he could barely stand the sight of me.
Angry, hurt tears stung my eyes and I tried to force them back. It was to no avail, and soon I was sobbing. What was I doing? I had thought, but it was foolish for me to have thought it, that Erik cared for me. Maybe even…loved me. But who was I kidding? The man was elegant, graceful, charming, and his voice was an angels'. Why would he ever be interested in a child such as me? He obviously saw me as a foolish little girl, and he was probably right. I was engaged to Raoul but here I was with Erik. I loved Raoul, my childhood sweetheart. Or did I? If I loved him, then why did I dream of a seductive darkness, why did I hear Erik's voice in my dreams? Why had I returned to him, and his darkness, rather than stay with Raoul and the safety of the day?
But how could I love Erik? He was a murderer. He had murdered Josef Buquet, and there was a danger in him that led me to believe that that was not the first time he had killed. Who knew what else he had done? And his face…Did I care for him out of pity? I dismissed the thought almost as quickly as it came. It most definitely was not pity.
I tossed and turned for hours, but I eventually fell into a light, restless slumber. When I woke the next morning I realised that I would have to return aboveground. Rehearsals would begin that afternoon, and I could not miss them.
After I had dressed I opened up the door and peered out. Erik was standing in front of the fireplace, which had a fire lit in it, the first time I had seen it being used. I crept over and stood beside him. He was staring into flames and I did not think he noticed me. But without looking up he said, "Good morning, my dear." He said the endearment casually, but it sent a shiver down my spine.
We ate a quick breakfast and as we were finishing Erik said, "I must get you back upstairs so you do not miss rehearsals."
We were on our way a few moments later. As Erik steered us across the lake I thought about what a cold, dark life he lived, always dwelling in the shadows.
I studied him as he guided the boat, pushing us smoothly across the water. He was in his usual black, wearing the same black fedora he wore the night he had first brought me to his world in the heart of the labyrinth beneath the Opera House. His fine silk lined wool cloak swirled seductively around his legs. He was singing softly, the same song as he had sung last night. His voice wrapped around me like an embrace. As it had the night before, the song, the words seemed to cut straight into my very soul.
"Only then will you belong to me…"I shivered and noticed that he was watching me. His expression was lost in the shadows, but I could practically feel the heat from his gaze. I was overwhelmed by the power that his voice held over me. Flushing, I looked down at my hands, but I could still feel his gaze upon me.
It was a silent journey from the lake to my dressing room. When we finally stopped behind the mirror Erik opened the mirror and motioned me through.
"Erik, will you-can we continue our lessons?" I asked as he was about to close the mirror.
"Of course, child."
"I can come when rehearsals are done," I suggested.
"Certainly. I will come for you," he replied. His voice was flat, his eyes strangely blank. How I wished I knew what he was thinking!
Without another word he turned and disappeared as the mirror slid shut. I took a deep breath and sat at my dressing table. I did not have much time before rehearsals started, but I could not bear the thought of going there yet.
I jumped, startled, when the door to my dressing room flew open and Raoul stormed through, his face red.
"Christine! Where have you been?" he shouted as he stood in front of me.
I stared at him. "What do you mean?" I asked, stalling for time and trying to figure out how much he knew.
"What do I mean? God, Christine, do you think I am dense? You walked out of the meeting with the managers and I do not see you again for two days and you wonder what I mean? I went to your flat, Christine."
My mind worked frantically. "I know you did," I said. "I just did not feel up to talking, so I did not answer the door."
Raoul's eyes bugged as he gaped at me. "I am your fiancé!"
"I know that, Raoul," I said testily. I wondered if Erik had left and I hoped he was not standing behind the mirror listening.
Raoul sighed loudly. "Christine, we are going to go through with this plot whether you agree to help or not."
"I assumed you would," I replied coolly.
"You do know that if you refuse to sing Messieurs Andre and Firmin may well drop your contract," Raoul stated.
My eyes widened. "They cannot do that!"
"They can and they will, Christine. They want to be rid of that monster. You cannot blame them! They cannot afford any more 'accidents'. Do you really want to see more people ending up dead, like Josef Buquet?"
My heart dropped at the stagehand's name. It was easy for me to forget about that when I was with Erik, but reality remained that Erik was a cold blooded killer and here I was, defending him.
But even at that, I knew I could never be part of a plot that could end in his death. At the same time, I could not afford to lose my contract with the Paris Opera.
"I will be singing, Raoul, but I will not be part of your plan," I said.
Raoul stared incredulously at me. "What in God's name is the matter with you, Christine? Why do you defend him? What kind of power does he have over you?"
Silence filled the room as Raoul and I glared at each other. "Please leave, Raoul," I said finally.
"Christine, I am sorry," he said, deflating. "I just-I love you, Christine, and I do not want to see you hurt."
I sighed. "I know, Raoul."
He watched me for a minute longer before he turned and walked out of the room, shutting the dressing room door firmly behind him.
I let out a deep, shuddering sigh as I stared at the door. My life was falling apart in front of my eyes, and I felt helpless to do anything but stand by and watch.