Page 74 of Angel's Fall
“You’ll feel better when you’ve had more time to rest,” Raoul admonished. “Here we are, finally home.”
The carriage jolted to a stop. Christine fought the urge to be sick again as Raoul opened the door with a grin. She began to shiver, realizing they had taken Erik’s cloak from her too. She had no scrap of him left. “You left my home in Perros, in chains,” Christine murmured.
Raoul’s sweet countenance finally darkened. “And if you wish him to remain in chains and not in the ground, you will come inside and try to be calm.”
Christine did not resist as Raoul rushed her from the carriage and through a side door. Shaya followed as she was led up the stairs and into a finely appointed room that had to be Raoul’s. Disconcertingly, there were bars across the windows outside.
“Those were installed yesterday. He’s been here, spying on me. I had to be safe,” Raoul explained. “Now you’ll be safe too.”
“I’m not staying here!” Christine balked. “Adèle needs me. Let me go home!”
“You’re safer here for now, while your mind clears. I’ll sleep elsewhere, I assure you. You can go home once the monster is fully in custody,” Raoul declared as if she hadn’t spoken, and Christine wanted to start screaming again. If she did, they’d just send for a doctor to drug her out of her hysteria, she was certain.
“How do you intend to explain my presence to your family?”
“They will understand, and so will you. You just need to rest and think,” Raoul repeated. “I’ll be back soon. I’ll send up some food and have Sabine get you clean clothes. Just rest.”
Before Christine could berate him again, Raoul swept out of the room, and she heard the lock click behind him. She was alone, helpless and defeated. She fell to the ground weeping again.
“Please,” she whispered, clasping her hands to her chest and looking up through the impenetrable bars to the gray sky. There was no resort left now but prayer. “Please, God, Father, angels... Please help us. Please help him. Please.”
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No one would guessfrom the spring in Raoul’s step the sort of adventures and trials he had endured in recent days. Perhaps it was due to the rest he had enjoyed on the carriage ride from Perros. Perhaps it was the morning air that carried a hint of spring’s warmth. No matter the reason, Raoul was happier than he had been in weeks.
Yes, it was true that his poor Christine still needed time to unbind her soul from Erik’s, but she was already seeing things clearer. In fact, he would go to the Madeleine next and find a priest familiar with the Opera denizens to see if he would take Christine’s confession soon and offer her absolution. But first, he had a more important errand.
“Would you slow down,” came the voice of the Persian from behind Raoul. He froze in his stride then turned.
“I’m sorry – I forgot you were there,” Raoul confessed, half-honest (he had forgotten but he wasn’t sorry). “I can manage talking to Richard on my own, thank you.”
“I have questions for you.” Motlagh looked dourer than the occasion demanded. “Such as: what did you use to make Christine so conveniently insensible for the journey and her rescue?”
Raoul frowned and avoided the eyes of the olive-skinned man, knowing they were full of judgment. “It was Antoine’s idea.”
“To drug her? Why on earth did he even have such chemicals?” the Persian hooted, and Raoul continued to look away.
“He said something about winning a bet with a surgeon. I didn’t press the matter.” Raoul was simply glad the plan had worked.
“Christine is right,” Shaya sighed. “This is a dangerous man to trust with testifying or bringing Erik to justice.”
“Antoine is nothing more than a means to an end,” Raoul scoffed, waving Shaya off as he began to walk again.
“Like Adèle Valerius was?” Motlagh asked, not moving. Raoul paused, his back to the other man.
“Are you feeling some sort of guilt about how that lying slut was treated?” Raoul didn’t recognize his own voice. “Were it not for the informationyouencouraged us to procure from her, I might be on the way to the North Pole right now. Imagine.”
“And what does your brother think about such things?”
Raoul began moving again. “Philippe is weak, soft. He’ll be grateful for the result when this is done.”
“Is that why you’re avoiding him?” There was mockery in the Persian’s voice as it followed Raoul. “What about your sister?”
“Go home, Motlagh,” Raoul spat over his shoulder. “To whatever empty hearth you warm yourself at. Prostrate yourself on your little rug, say your prayers, and prepare yourself. We’ll need you well-rested when we bring the monster back.”
There was silence behind Raoul, and he hoped that meant he was no longer being followed. He did not turn around to look for a while, not wanting to give the man any sort of satisfaction. Luckily when he did, the avenue was empty behind him. Raoul still quickened his pace, eager to move things along.
He had never visited Firmin Richard’s home in the Faubourg, but he knew the address. It was humble, compared to the Chagny estate, but passable. The servant who answered the door when Raoul rang looked sleepy and annoyed at such an early caller.
