Page 8 of Angel's Fall
“So it is from him. Your angel.” Something grim settled on Raoul’s face. “Your Erik.”
Christine felt as if the room turned upside down. As if the world had started spinning like a whirlpool and she was about to drown. Blood pounded in her ears and her guts scurried in terror around her insides as her panic rose.
“Where did you hear that name?”
Raoul’s face hardened further. “From your own lips. Last night in your dressing room.”
“You were spying on me?” Christine fumbled for the arm of her chair, her legs failing her as she stumbled back and sat.
“A voice from the walls inspires you to slavish ecstasy and you faultmefor trying to get to the truth of whoever it is who had ensnared you?”
Christine was going to be sick. Adèle ran to her, kneeling to embrace her. “Raoul, you don’t know what—”
“I know what I saw. I know who it is that has trapped you in these lies and plots.” Raoul looked mad and triumphant. Did he still think he would save her? It would be the death of him. Or Erik. Or both
“You must forget that name,” Christine declared, grabbing Adèle’s arm. “If you want both of us –allof us – to be safe, please, forget that name!”
“So you admit he is dangerous!” Raoul crowed, undeterred.
“No!” Christine heaved a sob, quaking in panic.
“Get out of my home, young man,” Adèle intervened, pulling Christine close. The firm warmth of her body against Christine was like a port in a storm and Christine clung to it. “You’ve done quite enough. Go tell Antoine he can go fuck himself while you’re at it.”
“I won’t go until I know Christine is safe!” Raoul shouted, and Christine covered her ears. Everything she had done had been for nothing! Raoul was still as foolish and focused as ever.
“Raoul, I can explain everything, I promise you!” Christine heard herself say from a hundred miles away as she turned her face from Adèle’s shoulder. “But please, don’t speak of this to anyone! Give me time and I swear I will explain. I can’t right now. I—”
“Will you promise to meet me tomorrow? At that café where we had supper? At six o’clock?”
Christine couldn’t even remember the name of the place but she nodded. “Yes. I promise.”
“Now get the hell out,” Adèle snarled. Raoul gave a final scowl before turning and storming out the door. “Christine, what was he on about? Are you really in danger?”
“No, I...” Christine swallowed, trying to calm her pounding heart. She focused on the details of the physical world around her. The feel of Adèle’s linen shift against her hands. The smell of soap. The heat of the fire. “I’m not in danger.”
“But Raoul is? Your Erik would hurt him?” Christine blinked up at Adèle, shocked again to hear that name in a mortal mouth. “Christine, I knew. I heard you that night, remember? You called that name. Several times.”
“Goddamnit,” Christine groaned.
“You need to stop being a fool about this affair, right now.” Adèle held her firmly and breathed slowly, forcing Christine to match her. “This is what you do: You take your things and go to Erik. I will tell people you still live here. No one will know you aren’t with Robert. And yes, I know Robert is sleeping with Moncharmin. I’m not a fool.”
“Why are you—”
“Because I see it in your face when you talk about this man. You truly love him. You’re practically marked with it, like one of those dusty crosses on your head.”
“What else do I do?” Each word hurt. All of it hurt so much now that she admitted what Erik was to her.
“Do what we do best. Act.” Christine looked up at her friend. “We play our parts. We make the fools in the audience think we are fragile damsels in need of rescue. It’s easier for them that way, rather than meeting us as people. Make Raoul think he’s saving you and then send him away with that.”
“Erik won’t...” Christine bit her tongue. It felt like a sin to speak his name, even now.
“If you love him, you’ll make him understand what you have to do.”
