Page 102 of Angel's Flight
“I don’t need luck – I need you to leave us alone.What will it take to get you to do that?”Christine asked, though she wasn’t optimistic about getting an honest answer.It didn’t hurt to ask.
Pauline, for her part, looked surprised.“It’s not that simple.”
“Can’t it be though?We can pay you.Obviously, whatever villains employ you aren’t going to keep you on after they find out how massively you’ve mucked things up again.We can offer you something to go away, if you’d let go of this petty vendetta against me and your obsession with my husband.”
Pauline gaped up at Christine, uncomprehending.Christine couldn’t blame her.This was a heavy topic for first thing in the morning with a head injury.
“I—” Pauline began, then stopped, shifting uncomfortably.
“Oh, let me help you,” Christine sighed.She dug the key to the restraints from her pocket with one hand, brandishing the pitcher with the other.“Do not try anything or I will remind you of what the opera ghost has taught me.”
“Noted.”Pauline still stared daggers into Christine as she released her but looked relieved to sit up and have some measure of freedom.“You’re an idiot if you think this false kindness is going to win me over.”
“It’s not false,” Christine snapped back.“I know a person like you has to think the worst of someone you’ve decided is your enemy, so you can justify your hatred.But I know who I am, even if you don’t.”
Christine paused, smiling to herself, thinking of things people who cared for her had said.People like Erik and Adèle and Howard and Julianne.People who saw her light, despite the darkness.
“That must be nice,” Pauline muttered.“To know who you are with such certainty.”
“It’s not certainty,” Christine muttered.“It’s a choice.I’m choosing right now to do the hard thing and not hurt you or leave you for dead.I came in here not knowing what I intended to do, but right now, looking at you...You’re not worth becoming someone else.”
For the first time, Pauline looked hurt.Christine knew she had struck too close to the core of this woman.Pauline was different from her, someone willing to lie to herself or others to be someone else so that she could escape her pain.
“You must be very lonely,” Christine stated aloud as she realized it.
“What?”Pauline huffed.
“To be like this.I’ve known people like you before, people who let a lack of love turn them violent and cruel.Their loneliness made them do and believe horrible things.”Christine was thinking of Raoul, but also of Erik.Perhaps Pauline saw herself in him.“You probably don’t want to hear that.Or think of it, but I do see it.”
“Fuck off,” Pauline spat, but she looked about ready to cry.Maybe Christine was torturing her, in her own way.Maybe it would work.
“I will if you tell me what scheme you’ve concocted concerning Coolaney,” Christine said with a shrug.“I’ll feed you and let you relieve yourself and make sure you’re comfortable wherever we take you.”
Pauline stared at Christine, unblinking.Was she trying to will Christine into some action, or forming some plan?Or still angry?Finally, she exhaled and sagged.“I’m supposed to be there today.To get things started.”
“Is that all you’re going to tell me?”
“You’re so smart, you’ll figure it out.”Pauline pursed her lips and Christine knew that was all she was going to say.She had her plans and Christine would find them out.
“I’ll get your food,” Christine muttered.
She didn’t go downstairs when she left though.She went back to her room and let out a sigh of relief when she found Erik there.
He looked up at her, face bare and eyes stricken, and Christine’s heart surged with both love and frustration.
“She has an appointment of some kind in Coolaney today.We’re going in her place.I haven’t decided if we’ll bring her along.”
Erik opened his mouth to protest, but Christine raised a hand for silence.
“I’m not letting you run away anymore.Not from Bidaut or your past, and especially not from me.I’m going to your mother’s village to do some good, and you’re coming with me.”
“Why take me?What use will I be?”Erik asked.Christine knew he was considering all the things that could go wrong; envisioning himself run out of town by some angry mob or Christine being harmed because that was the only future he could see right now.He wanted to leave her because he loved her.
“You’re coming because I need a fucking translator, and I’m going to show you that not every path leads to ruin.”
Paris
Meg felt like a differentperson when she was dancing.Not practicing or drillingtemps de cuisseandronds de jambe, but really, truly dancing.When she let go of thinking and criticism and simply danced, she wasn’t meek, useless Meg: she was someone different.
