I'm sure for you guys it's been a long wait, but for me it feels like I just posted! Ah well, to each their own.

Not much to say other than… for some of you, you'll get a kick out of Erik and his oh so infallible logic. And for others, I'm sure this will be another nail in his Creepy coffin. Either way, I hope you enjoy!

Onward!

XIX

"Erik, please tell me where we're going!"

He tsked at her, although he did not turn back to look as he carefully maneuvered them through the underground tunnels. "I should think you would be happy to be going above, Christine. You expressed so much enthusiasm yesterday!" His words were confirmed by the definite incline as they trudged along the dark and foreboding passages, but that gave her no comfort.

If they were simply going above, he would have reassured her. He would have reminded her that he wanted her to be comfortable here as he allowed her to walk in the fresh air, if only for a little while.

But instead he was humming a strange little tune, every step they took seeming to make his mood darken into a jubilant sort of derangement.

And she realized how much she had come to depend on his gentle, caring nature as he offered her things to make her happy.

For this man alarmed her with his unpredictability. Yet even with her trepidation she dared not release her hold on his arm in case she accidently fell behind and he left her, alone in the darkness, while he saw to whatever business excited him so.

She shuddered.

Could there be anything worse?

She squeaked and huddled a little closer to him as the dim light of the lantern illuminated a large and terrible looking spider as it scuttled toward a crack in the stone.

Definitely nothing worse.

"You wouldn't leave me down here, would you?" she asked. It was a question birthed of self-pity and fear, but one at the moment she genuinely wished to know the answer to. "If I fell behind?"

He halted abruptly and turned to her, some of the manic light in his eyes dimming ever so slightly. "I beg your pardon?"

Perhaps what she truly wanted to know was if he was as dangerous in this moment as he seemed. She had seen flickers of his genuine care for her, but now…

"Would you leave me here?" she repeated. "If I stumbled and fell would you just keep going until you reached… wherever it is we're going?"

He stared at her, his expression entirely blank. "That is the most ridiculous thing I have ever heard."

And then he kept walking, this time a little slower, and every so often he would glance down at her to ensure she was still with him.

But something about his curt dismissal of her apprehension soothed her, as if it truly had never occurred to him to leave her alone in the darkness.

She understood now why he had told her the day before that it was unwise to make the journey when she was so exhausted. Even now, with a full night's rest and a full stomach, by the time they finally emerged—into a dressing room?—she was tired. Erik however did not seem in the least bit winded, and with quick movements he extinguished the lantern and stored it within the stone tunnels before sealing the door once more.

Somehow she doubted he would explain that particular mechanism to her.

She drifted away from him, the shuttered windows allowing enough light that she could easily make out the lush carpets, the intricately carved wardrobe, as well as the gilded mirror covered in a messy array of makeup, powders, and hair pins.

"Does it impress you?" Erik asked. She pulled her hand away from an errant ribbon, and noted the way he watched her, his eyes careful but also somewhat… pleased?

"It's a beautiful room," she relented. "Although it feels odd being in it when it's someone else's."

He hummed noncommittally. "That could easily be rectified."

She smiled, knowing that he was perfectly serious. "I'd prefer that it wasn't."

Erik shrugged. "Very well. I shall respect your wishes for the moment."

Christine sighed, for that was precisely the problem. He clearly thought that given time and patience, he could wear her down to his way of thinking.

And a part of her greatly feared that he would be proven correct.

"Now, if you've satisfied your curiosity about the room that is not yet to be yours, shall we continue?"

She hesitated, still not at all certain she wanted to have any part of whatever he had planned. He had calmed significantly and that was an encouragement but still…

Yet he opened the door all the same and waited, and she supposed there really was no great point in delaying.

It would only make her more nervous.

And a whisper of idea flittered across her mind that she was no longer buried underground… that there were doors and windows and means of escape…

She took a deep breath and refused to think about that. Erik seemed capable of reading her quite thoroughly, and she could only imagine how angry he would be if she tried to bolt. And not for a moment did she believe he would not track her down and drag her back, this time with much less hospitable a demeanor.

So she followed placidly enough, trying not to lose herself as she took in the grandeur of the theatre itself. The carpets themselves were thick dark, the moldings heavy and intricate and painted with expert quality. The sconces were a polished gold, and she dearly wished she could see it all lit and alive, thrums of people milling about the open areas as she imagined the performers scurrying about backstage.

"Where are all the people?" she asked, her voice echoing slightly as they walked through a hallway with a ceiling so tall she had to crane her neck to appreciate it properly.

Erik gave an odd sort of titter, his voice slightly mocking. "Haven't you heard? One of the managers was murdered and an unfortunate accident led to the discovery of asbestos in the ceilings. It will take quite some time to set everything to rights."

Christine's lips thinned, not at all appreciating his tone.

"If that was true, then we would be in danger as well. Tell me Erik, have you now exposed me to cancer?"

He rolled his eyes and kept walking. "I believe that would fall under the heading of harm, which I have sworn will not befall you. My point is, we are quite alone here and will continue to be so until I wish to make it otherwise."

She sighed. "Of course."

They carried on in silence, until they reached the main auditorium, and Christine's irritation temporarily was overridden by the magnitude of the space. Vaulted ceilings, private boxes, and perfectly aligned rows with plush seats that all faced one of the grandest stages she had ever seen.

Erik led her forward, towards the front row and up onto the stage, and she could not help but stop and admire the heavy velvet curtain that would separate the audience from the actors. The fringe alone looked obscenely expensive, and the yards and yards of luxurious velvet must have cost a tremendous fortune.

It made Erik's requested salary appear laughable.

"If you're trying to convince me to sing by bringing me here, the answer is still no. Although I admit, this is quite the manipulation."

Erik chuckled and moved to the side of the stage, fiddling with some complicated set of levers. "I will be certain to keep that in mind. But I am afraid that is not why we are here." He smiled at her, a wicked and troubling thing, before commenting, "You may wish to take a step to the left."

She obeyed warily, and then with a flick of his wrist the floor began to move and the stage filled with light.

And with another blink, three bound figures appeared before her.

They were all seated, their hands and feet tied to armchairs, and in her shocked state Christine rather thought they appeared ready for some kind of sadistic dinner party. All three were gagged, a piece of cloth firmly pressed between their lips and fastened behind their heads.

All three gurgled and tried to speak, and as Christine tried to make sense of it all, she found herself staring not at the other captives, but at Erik.

Who in turn watched her with equal care.

"What is this?" she asked, her voice low and surprisingly stable.

His head tilted slightly to the side. "You do not recognize them?"

She finally tore her gaze away from him, his placid manner turning her stomach, before looking at the three people more closely.

Two men, one darker and younger than the first, and a woman…

And with startling clarity, she realized that they were some of the witnesses.

"You… you…"

He gave a little shrug, almost helplessly—as if he had no other choice than to have committed yet another abduction.

She didn't know why she was surprised. Had she thought herself so very special that only she would have been ensnared by him? "I promised you another trial. One in which you would learn what actually occurred that fateful day."

He walked forward, looking at each of his captives carefully as they struggled or cried, depending on their wont.

Except the second man, the one seated in the middle, had quieted, his dark eyes narrowed as he glared at Erik, his form entirely still.

"Now," Erik began, his voice congenial. "I would like to thank all of you for joining me here today. And of course, special thanks must be given to Mr. Debienne for the use of his illustrious theatre as the cornerstone for our little production. A fitting spot to learn of truths, wouldn't you say?" He leaned forward ever so slightly in the direction of Mr. Nadir, and Christine did not miss the contentious curl of his lips.

And despite everything, she was left with the very real impression that Erik had been hurt by this man.

And badly.

She had to admit that some not-so-hidden part of herself longed to know what really happened last April—how Mr. Poligny had died, if something more salacious had occurred between Mr. Debienne and the victim's wife.

And what had driven a supposed friend to Erik—likely the only one he had—to testify against him.

But it had been more than that, hadn't it? He had gone to the police about him—shown them where he lived.

Christine took another step backward, the other part of her wanting to take this opportunity to flee and never return. Not when this was all so confusing.

But Erik's eyes suddenly locked on hers and she froze, unable to convince any of her muscles to cooperate. His gaze darkened. "Leaving so soon?"

He walked back toward the same set of levers and pulled another one, another chair rising from the depths of the stage. Only this time additional panels rose, created a strange sort of dais.

As if it was presiding over the other chairs.

She swallowed.

Erik came forward again, holding his hand out. She hesitated, truly not wanting to touch him when the reminder of his ambiguous sense of morality was so blatantly displayed before her, but she was nervous and unsure, and with a sense of numbness she took it and allowed him to lead her up to her seat.

She sat down obediently enough, but when he turned to leave she grasped his hand more firmly. "Erik, you need to let them go," she stated firmly, proud that her voice didn't quaver.

Much.

He smiled, and while she expected it to be twisted and cruel, there was softness that surprised her as he tucked a piece of her hair behind her ear before he moved to extract his hand from her tight grip. "And I shall, Christine," he promised, his voice soft so only she could hear. "But first they must learn to tell the truth."

She held on more resolutely. "You will not hurt them." It was a statement, and not a question. "Because if you do, so help me Erik…"

Her lips thinned as he simply looked amused. "You shall what?"

She took a deep breath and released her hold on him. "I shall know how you truly keep your prisoners. And somehow I don't think you want to leave me with that particular impression. Not when I am also one of them."

This time he frowned. "You are not…" she looked at him pointedly and he sighed. "No, I suppose not."

"Then you will not hurt them? Just as you would not hurt me?"

He walked down the steps, and yet when he spoke his voice was still a soft tickle at her ear. "You may not wish for me to make such a vow when you know what they have to confess."

He stood slightly to the side, affording her a perfect view of both him and the faces of the three witnesses. She finally recognized Ms. Poligny as the third victim, although she looked very different from her persona in court. Her hair was tangled and unkempt, her clothes disheveled. Everything about her was a direct contrast from the pristine woman who had appeared in the courtroom all those weeks ago.

"You are all likely wondering why you are here," Erik began again, his voice once more a genial timbre. Apparently Mr. Debienne was tired of his struggles for he too sagged against his bonds and merely stared at Erik—his expression more of fear than the simmering anger of the man beside him.

"Well, it seems to me that the farce of a trial that I was subjected to had little bearing on the actual demise of our dear Poligny. And, as it so happens," he glanced toward Christine, and she met his gaze steadily, "my character has come into question and I would like the matter to be settled as neatly as possible. Clearly that means not trusting that fool Sorelli to handle the prosecution."

Christine couldn't help but agree, although she was absolutely certain that Erik's way of dealing with things was not the answer to the prosecutor's incompetence.

"So, I'm afraid that leaves matters in my hands." He stalked forward and stood directly in front of Ms. Poligny before leaning in close, his words tempered into a purr even though readily audible to the theatre's occupants. "In that's hands," he murmured, reminding her of the dreadful way she had referred to him during the trial.

Her eyes widened and she shook her head frantically.

He stood back, and from his sardonic tone Christine could easily picture the look he was giving her. "No? Well, you do not seem in a position to argue, no matter how you might like to."

Erik glanced back at Christine and waved his hand in a grand gesture of introduction. "Judge Albright could not be with us this evening, so Christine will be acting as our overseer of law and justice. Perhaps you remember her from the jury?" he gave the members of his mock court time to offer a muffled reply, but all of them merely glanced at her in varying measure of confusion and fear. "No?" He sighed. "It seems there is further evidence that the world is blind in regard to you, my dear. I could hardly keep my eyes off you."

"Why couldn't the judge be with us?" Christine asked, and even to her own ears it sounded rather petulant. If he had managed to abduct three individuals—four, counting herself and five if she added Boo to her estimate—then why not add another to make things more official?

He sent her an exasperated look. "I would have thought I'd caused him enough mischief during the trial. But if you'd prefer…"

Her brow furrowed. He had been completely silent in court, causing not a single disruption except for the occasional outburst that was due to someone's reaction to him rather than his actual person.

"What do you mean? What did you do to the judge?"

Erik sighed and turned to her fully. "Christine, this is hardly an appropriate time to discuss such matters. We are in the middle of a trial and I highly doubt our three defendants are interested."

The sound of gagged denials drew his attention once more, and he looked at all of them with barely contained mockery. "No? You do not think you have done anything to warrant being called so? I suppose that is for our judge to decide."

He bowed slightly in her direction. "Where would you like to begin, my dear? That fateful night in April? Even further back? How about to the Poligny's wedding day?"

Christine took a steadying breath. She wanted no part of this. She wanted to believe that he would not harm them, but he had not promised, and if he did not intend to give them to the authorities…

What other recourse was there?

So instead she braced herself for his outrage when she finally murmured, "I'd like to know what you did to Joe."

Every muscle in his body froze as his eyes darkened dangerously. "Perhaps you would like to make a different inquiry," he suggested, his tone brokering no refusal.

But this was good, or so she reassured herself. It was better that he focus on her, that he be preoccupied with her rather than making the witnesses incriminate themselves in order for him to feel justified in hurting them.

And if he should in turn hurt her…

Then she needed to know.

Because she would not subject herself to a man who was cruel and hurtful. She would steal herself against any of his sweetness, would refuse any proffered apology, if for any moment he raised a hand against her.

She might be lonely, desperately so, but she had more respect for herself than that.

And so determined she began again. "No, I don't think so. You've kidnapped me, you're holding those three prisoners. I'd like to know what you do to a man that finally bothered to notice me."

His lips thinned and he stalked forward. And for all her temporary bravery, she flinched as he came close and breathed into her ear the terrible thing he had done.

"I had him transferred."

She blinked.

"You… you what?" she asked breathlessly.

Both of his hands were on the arms of her chair, forming a veritable cage about her as he moved back slightly so he could look at her. "Officer Joe Ryan," he answered, his tone biting, "breached the code of ethics with a juror by suggesting romantic entanglements during a trial. His superiors believed it prudent to transfer him to another district pending a full investigation into his conduct."

She swallowed, her throat suddenly feeling very dry. "That's all?"

He smiled, although there was nothing joyful in the action. He seemed both sad and hurt by her question, and once again she felt that horrible conflict that made being angry with him so exceptionally difficult.

"That is all, Christine." He peered at her curiously. "Did you think I'd killed him?" His voice was gentle, any irritation he might have felt at her apparent mistrust of him carefully hidden away.

"Y-yes," she stammered, feeling immediately guilty for it once she knew how mild his recompense had actually been. She had even wondered the ethics of Joe's asking, and as long as Erik hadn't falsified any of what transpired and still they thought it best to transfer him…

She supposed Erik's actions hadn't been so wholly bad, even if his motive had been selfish and not based on ensuring the justice system was as honorable as possible.

Erik looked genuinely confused. "I would not begrudge him for noticing Christine; he obviously has excellent taste. That being so, why would I punish him so harshly simply for noticing the treasure that was in his midst?"

He tsked at her again, and given how close he was to her, she could easily determine that his teasing stemmed from bruised feelings and not actual amusement. "However, it is gratifying to have it confirmed that I have orchestrated this trial for a purpose, as you do seem quite ready to think the worst of me." He sighed, a low and pained sound that made some part of her hurt in sympathy. "You defended me, you said so yourself. And yet now you think me a monster."

He stood, and she grabbed hold of his arm before he could return to the people below. "Erik, that isn't fair. It's… difficult for me. I don't know what to believe about you when some of the things you've done are so… terrible, and then you do or say something and I just want to forget all of that!"

His shoulders hunched and when he looked at her, his eyes were glassy. "And you will not do that? Simply forget?"

She released his arm and looked pointedly at the three bound figures. "How can I when you do something like this?"

He nodded and stood silently for a moment before she once again heard a whisper in her mind. But Erik must, for you do not trust his word. How else is he to make you understand?

And then he was descending the stairs toward the witnesses below, any hint of his vulnerability concealed under a mask of height and power. "Do forgive the interruption. The judge required a sidebar."

Each of his captives stared at him silently.

"So," he continued, a satisfied gleam in his eye. "Who would like to testify first?"

Sooo… Looks like Erik's done it now! Who's surprised? Did you really think I was just going to have him give Christine a sit down and lay out all the facts? Okay, I admit. I was originally just going to have him tell her things. But this will be much more fun, right? And what's a few more felony kidnappings amongst friends, right?

Next up, Judge Christine takes the bench, and we get our first dose of what really happened last April…