Page 7 of Angel's Fall
“Why do you think I’m giving you my supplies?” Adèle replied with a fresh scowl. “To think I wasted so much time at the masquerade with him, and he had the audacity to lose his mind before I had a proper final ride on that pretty cock of his.”
“I’m going to ignore that second part. And ask what you mean by ‘lose his mind’?”
“He went mad after Red Death put a curse on him at the masquerade, the fool.”
“What?” Christine asked, unable to keep the dread from her voice. She had stopped Erik – clad in macabre crimson splendor – from exacting his wrath upon some fool at the masquerade. Had that been Antoine?
“I forgot, you weren’t there. You missed quite the spectacle. For a while, we all thought it was the Phantom himself who’d stepped out of hell, or wherever it is he keeps his residence below. Red Death, he named himself, this man in a mask like nothing anyone had ever seen. I’ve never seen anything uglier.” Adèle shuddered and it stabbed Christine to the heart. “Antoine, the idiot, tried to touch him. The thing caught him, nearly broke his wrist, and Antoine lost his mind. He was raving when Sorelli and I took him home.”
“Raving about Red Death?”
“Said he was a ghost. Not the Opera Ghost, mind you, a different sort of ghost. I think.” Adèle threw up her hands and shook her head. “An idiot, like I said.”
“You don’t think it was the Opera Ghost?” Christine asked carefully.
“Well, we all did until some little trollop decided todancewith the man. The girl looked entirely enamored of him, and I can’t imagine any ghost inspiring suchadmiration.”
“Maybe you need a more vivid imagination.” Adèle looked at her curiously and Christine gave a falsely innocent shrug.
“And what were you doing last night, by the way?” Adèle asked with a sly smile. “It had to have been enjoyable if you’re leaving my nest for good this morning—”
A knock at the door cut off the older woman. “Odd time for visitors.” Adèle went to the door, uncaring for any modesty regarding her lack of dress. Christine admired that. “May I—Monsieur de Chagny?”
Christine spun at the name, hoping against hope that she wouldn’t see the younger of the Chagny brothers at Adèle’s door, but she had no such luck.
“I’m glad you’re home,” Raoul said. “I was hoping you could –Christine?”
Christine’s heart was a stone in her chest as Raoul stared at her over Adèle’s shoulder.
Last night, she had broken his heart on purpose. It had been as awful as pushing Joseph Buquet to his doom, but just as inevitable. Raoul had seen her and Erik together, caught in an embrace in theBois de Boulogne. Only her promise that she would drive the boy she had once loved away had kept Erik from madness and desolation. At the masquerade, Raoul had called her a whore incapable of love and more. So why was hethere?
“What are you doing here?” Christine demanded, forcing herself to stand and face the man who was looking at her with an undisguised mix of wonder and horror. “If you came looking for me, I think I made it very clear—”
“You had chosenhim. I remember. I came here to ask Madame Valerius if she would be of help with Antoine. He’s doing poorly and—” Raoul swallowed and shook his head. “I doubt you care.”
“Neither of us do,” Adèle grumbled. “So you can be on your way.”
Adèle began to close the door, but Raoul stopped her, pushing into the flat with eyes fixed on Christine. “I will confess to being surprised to find you here, of all places. Though I am relieved. Have you come to your senses when it comes to your illustrious angel?”
“That does not concern you.” Christine had to remain calm...
“Does it concern your friend here then? Or anyone who cares for you? Don’t you think she should know the danger you’ve put yourself in?” Raoul’s eyes were wide and bright. Christine began to tremble.
“Danger?” Adèle scoffed.
“Yes, danger!” Raoul cried. “Christine will lie and say she is safe, but she knows. She must know that the man who has ensnared her is the worst sort of villain.”
“What on earth are you on about, boy? You sound as mad as Antoine!” Adèle laid a hand on Raoul’s heaving chest, but he shook her away.
“Please, Christine, reassure your friend that you are safe!” Raoul pushed. “Tell her you won’t be descending into the netherworld any time soon. Or that you’ve come to your senses!”
“Raoul, stop! Please!” Christine cried, raising her hands as Raoul pressed towards her, senseless of Adèle trying to hold him back. Raoul’s fury froze and he stared at Christine’s hands. “You have no right to speak to me like this.”
“No one has the right to speak to her like that,” Adèle hissed in agreement. “You’re not her husband or her fiancé, dear God.”
“Then who is?” Raoul asked flatly. Christine retracted her hand, but it was too late. Raoul had seen the ring. “Who gave you that? Is it a wedding ring?”
“Wedding rings go on the left hand,” Christine protested, holding her hand to her chest to calm her pounding heart. “And as I have tried again and again to make clear: I owe you no explanations for my life, nor who I spend it with!”
