Page 103 of Angel's Fall
At the entrance to the parlor stood a shade – a poor copy of Erik – in a black felt hat and cloak. His mask was black too; a simple domino. Shaya looked between the two phantoms and was unsurprised to see Erik’s lips twitch into a smile.
“Am I still seeing things?” Shaya asked sickly. The shade entered the room, his steps squelching as if he had water in his shoes.
“No, Daroga, you are not. I believe you are familiar with the Baron de Martiniac,” Erik answered easily as Christine gripped her lover’s arm.
Shaya blinked again, rising as much as he could, because of course –of course– it was Erik’s lost brother who had taken on his dark mantle to haunt his steps.
“I knew you’d recognize me eventually.” Antoine removed his disguise and cast it to the floor, revealing clothes that were as sodden as Erik’s. “Blood connection and all that.”
“I should have guessed.” Shaya looked at Christine and Erik to see no shock in their faces at the information. “That it was you lurking about. Spying on your own brother.”
“So everyone here knows?” Antoine asked. “That’s disappointing. I was hoping for a more dramatic revelation. I guess you’ve made things terribly operatic for all of us this evening, haven’t you, Erik? Thank you, by the way, for letting me in so I could hear that wondrous finale, whoever left this open.”
“It was my mistake,” Christine hissed, formidable and furious. “What are you doing here?”
“I wanted to confirm everything was going to plan and ended up listening to you save all our necks, for one thing,” Antoine answered with a shrug as he strode into the parlor, looking around curiously. “What a marvelous little flat you’ve built. Now, I am grateful to you, dear girl. It would have been quite an annoyance to die tonight after all the trouble I’ve gone through to ensure my comfort in life.”
“What are you talking about? Plans and trouble,” Shaya demanded. “Last I heard, you ruined plans by letting this one escape.”
“He let me escape on purpose,” Erik answered thoughtfully, putting together some puzzle that was still obscure to Shaya. “He wanted it to look like it was his mistake. He was very careful.”
“I told you. I knew you wouldn’t kill me – you have too soft a heart,” Antoine replied. Shaya wanted to laugh at that, but Erik smiled as if he had been given a compliment. “You’re even weaker than I thought. You were supposed to kill the Chagny brothers, not keep trying to save them.”
“You killed Philippe,” Christine murmured. Shaya looked frantically between Erik and the other man as he circled the room, peering into the torture chamber where Raoul lay prone and insensible to the operatic drama unfolding.
“Philippe is dead?” Shaya asked in horror. “He was the one on the lake...”
“Yes, and I had to make sure he never left it.” Antoine knelt next to the man whose brother he had just taken away. “As I said, I had hopedboththese idiots would be dead by now, but you continue to disappoint me.”
“Dear God, why?” Christine cried as Antoine looked over the man he had deprived of a beloved brother. “They are your friends. Your family.”
“Money,” Erik answered in utter disgust. Antoine gave a crooked smile and a nod. “My brother has none left, he’s wasted it all. So he planned to marry the sister for her share. But when he saw an opportunity to take more than her dowry – to kill both Chagny heirs and have everything pass to her, and therefore to him – he leapt on it.”
“They were right: you are smart,” Antoine confirmed. “Family trait.”
“You sent men to their deaths so you could steal an inheritance?” Christine’s voice was thick with pain and contempt. “You disgusting, evil man!”
“Rich words from a woman fucking a living corpse,” Antoine sneered. Erik started towards his brother only for Christine to hold him back. “Now, I believe it’s time to rid the world of dear, sweet, stupid Raoul. Don’t worry, I’ll let you do it, brother. Consider it a gift to make up for all the time we’ve missed.”
“No.” It was not only hearing Erik say it that shocked Shaya, but the pure conviction in his voice.
“Is this little attack of conscience so severe that you’ll actually give up ending the miserable life of a man who would have had you paraded down the streets being flogged if he could?” Antoine laughed.
“I have made a promise.” Erik turned to Christine with love and devotion in his unearthly eyes that took Shaya’s breath away. “No more death. Not at my hands.”
“Then you won’t stop me doing it, I guess.” Antoine rose from beside Raoul with a calm expression, pulling the pistol from the unconscious man’s coat pocket as he did. “I’m so glad I found this. Mine was all wet. I hope he has enough bullets.”
“Put that down, Antoine,” Erik ordered even as his brother aimed the gun at his head. “Christine is right. No one else needs to die.”
“Oh, at least two more do, for me to get what I need.” Antoine replied easily. Shaya tried to rise and failed, his exhausted body choosing the worst possible time to give up on him.
Erik sighed powerfully. “Of course. I imagine you’ll need my head or something to present as evidence to get that first son’s share that I’ve denied you by my mere existence.”
“Sadly, yes. I want you to know I did entertain a few delusions of letting you live to run off with your whore.” Christine’s face hardened at the insult, and Shaya’s head and stomach continued to turn. “Alas, I have a debt to Richard now for his help. I hope you’ll understand. This foreign shit will need to be disposed of as well, I guess. I can’t have you chittering about.” He gestured with the gun towards Shaya.
“You would kill your own brother?” Christine asked.
“He doesn’t care. He used me before, to remove his family.” Again, Erik’s voice was calm and resigned. “He set the fire, or stoked it, the night our father died. I always wondered why he was calling out ‘my son’ before I found him. Now, I realize he was calling out for you. Because you left him to die too.”
