Page 82 of Angel's Mask
“How...”
“No answers yet,” the Ghost cut her off. Christine turned, ready to fix her guide with a look of annoyance, but her ire melted away when she met his eyes. Once again, they were full of sadness, but also hope and, yes, she could see it too, love.
“I can go?” she asked trying to calm her breath as it caught in her throat.
“Do you promise; not to tell them where I am?” His voice was tenuous as he held her gaze. “If you send them for me, people will be hurt. Either them or me.”
“I promise,” Christine whispered, shuddering at the thought of what the authorities might do to Erik. Or what he would do to them.
“You’re cold,” he said, and without ceremony he swept his dark cape off and placed it around her shoulders, carefully fastening the clasp. Without it, he was just a man again, one who looked at her with fear and love in equal measure. “And can you promise to come back?” he asked, sad and supplicant.
Christine swallowed as she stared at him. If she said no, he might snatch her right back to the void they had just escaped. But if she said yes...
“I don’t want to lie to you,” she whispered. “I need time.”
“You have...until tomorrow night,” Erik answered, his voice unsteady. “Come back here at sunset, and I will be waiting. If you are not here when night falls, I’ll know I have lost you and I...”
He shut his eyes tight as if the thought hurt too much to bear, and when those eyes opened again, it was like he transformed, as if donning another mask. His eyes were bright with danger and darkness, unquestionable and undeniable as they fixed on her with devastating need.
Christine gasped as the Phantom before her raised his hand and trailed his cold fingers over her cheek. It was barely a touch, the sort that had set her on fire when she had thought it was an angel caressing her. Somehow it still made her head spin. They both knew he was touching her for what might be the last time. Would he be able to bear it if it was, she wondered? Would she?
“Come back to me,” the ghost who was not a ghost whispered, beseeching, and yet an unquestionable command. For the slightest moment he leaned towards her, and Christine was sure he would kiss her. The thought made her whole body shudder with fearanddesire.
Erik withdrew his hand instantly, backing away from her into the shadows. They swallowed him entirely in a few steps, leaving only his mask visible. He inclined his head in a small nod, telling her without words that she was free. For now.
Christine turned away, gulping for air at last. She walked unsteadily into the stables, pulling his cloak tighter and feeling the last traces of his warmth. Hehadbeen warm, not cold like a corpse. When she turned back, he was gone.
The morning light, even behind the clouds, hurt her eyes and the carriages along the street were like thunder. Christine walked, forcing herself to move with each step, telling herself she was safe now, she was free. She could keep walking and never return if she was strong enough. She could not even look at the Opera as she skirted the back, to theBoulevard Haussmann.Nor did she look up as she made her way east towards home. Was it home? He had been right when he said that the Opera was her home, in her heart; or it had been until an hour ago.
She was as surprised to find herself on theRue Faydeauas Élodie Bonet was to see her when she opened the door of the flat.
“My God, girl, what has happened?” Élodie asked in horror. Christine wondered how she must look, like a madwoman with wild hair and pale skin. She was nothing compared to him though.
“Christine?!” Julianne yelled, rushing to the door, and catching Christine as she collapsed in her arms. “Bloody hell, I thought you were lost! I heard a voice in your room and then you were gone and—”
“Please don’t ask me,” Christine whispered into Julianne’s shoulder as her friend held her tight. “I’m never going back,” she said at last and finally the dam broke. Her tears fell, her body shaking with sobs as Julianne guided her inside.
“It’s alright, you’re safe now,” Julianne said. “It’s over.”
