Page 21 of Angel's Flight

Florence

Christine finally beganto cry as the carriage rounded the bend, and the place that might have become a real home left her sight.Signora Genco and her son had been kinder than they had any right to be in helping them pack and summon transportation but had also made it clear that the two of them were no longer welcome under that roof after all the evil they had brought.Neither she nor Erik had argued.

“Why didn’t you tell the driver to go to the train station?”Christine asked, trying not to let her voice crack.

“We’re not going to the train station,” Erik replied, the same darkness in his voice that had been radiating from him since he attacked those men.They had deserved the fight, Christine knew that, but it still didn’t make seeing Erik like that again any easier.She had thought they were done with the violence they had left behind, but it had found them.

“What do you mean?”

“We’re going to see Jack.”

Christine dared to meet Erik’s golden eyes.They were as deadly and determined as ever.“For all we know, Jack was the one who led those men to us,” Christine protested.

“Exactly.If he is, I will find out who he told.”Erik’s tone made it clear he wouldn’t be arguing this point, but after a beat, his eyes behind the mask softened, and the tension in his body dissipated.“If he wasn’t, then we need him as a friend.”

“What if it was someone who followed me?”Christine whispered back, sickened.“Pauline or Patricia or—"

Erik grabbed her hands as she began to shake.In her mind, she saw it again: the chandelier falling.The bodies.She heard the screams and then the gunshot...

“Christine, don’t do this to yourself,” Erik commanded, forcing her to look at him as he tore off his mask.He breathed slow and deep, making her match him.“The evil of others is not your fault,” he told her as the queasiness ebbed and her heart slowed.

She wanted to argue, to ask if that applied to him, but she couldn’t.She had married him, knowing all he had done, and forgiven him.Because he had changed, he had chosen life.A real, free life for them that seemed unreachable now.

She embraced him instead, taking comfort in his solid form against hers and the familiar weight of his arms around her.The only consistent thing in months of wandering was him.He was all she had, and that had to be enough.

The carriage lurched to a stop, and Erik pulled back to look at her.She had to be a mess, with her hair falling from its bun and cheeks red from crying.She envied Erik the mask as he replaced it on his face.

They left the carriage waiting and made their way into the ancient building where Jack lived.The hall was barely lit this time of night (or technically early morning) and the paint on the door was peeling, but it opened quickly after Erik’s knock.

“What in the devil—” Jack stopped in shock.Christine knew what he saw: Erik in his old mask, mouth uncovered and set in a grim line, gold eyes blazing with danger as he stood at his full, imposing height.Then there was Christine next to him, with tear-stained cheeks, looking as if she had just run for her life.

“I would like to know, my friend, if you are surprised to see me alive and free,” Erik demanded slowly.“Please think carefully before you answer.”

“I’m surprised to see you at my door in such a state,” Jack answered, not obeying the order to think at all.He was rumpled and in shirt sleeves, with ink stains on his fingers.“What is this about your life?Are you in some sort of trouble?Signora, are you alright?”

Jack leaned forward, but Erik stopped him, eyes locking with Jack’s and boring into his soul to determine what Christine already knew – that this was not the person who had betrayed them.

“Men – paid thugs – came to our flat and assaulted our landlord, trying to find us,” Christine explained, and Jack looked appropriately astonished by the revelation.

“Why would someone be trying to find you?Is it a debt, or have you done someone some greater offence?”Jack asked, more concerned than suspicious.“Can I help?”

The menace left Erik, like shadows driven away by a flame.“Thank you.May we—”

“Yes, of course, come in.”Jack ushered them into his untidy bachelor’s flat, and Christine shook her head at the state of it.There wasn’t a clear surface in sight, with every table covered with music, books, and a few unwashed wine glasses.There was no carpet and hardly enough furniture.“The maid has not come by this...month,” Jack muttered.

“We won’t stay too long,” Christine said politely (and hopefully).

“You can’t go home if someone is looking for you,” Jack countered, meeting their eyes.“May I know why my friends are being pursued?”

“It’s a long story,” Erik said.“One that I fear will diminish your regard for me.If this arrival has not done so already.”

“There was a reason we had to leave Paris,” Christine cut in, sighing at her husband’s dramatics.“We made many enemies there.”

“I made enemies there,” Erik corrected.“We can’t tell you more and risk harm coming to you by knowing too much.Just being here...”

Christine could tell that Erik was beginning to regret this.She could read the thoughts racing through his head clear as day – that he was cursed and knowing him brought only sorrow and suffering to those around him.That all of this was what he deserved.

“My husband is a good man, despite what he may think or imply,” Christine said, taking Erik’s hand and turning to poor, bewildered Jack.“He has endured many cruelties and abuses and done dark things to survive, but he –we– are trying to leave that behind.”

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