| The Wedding Thief ~ Chapter 9 |
| Erik and Marie worked tirelessly until dawn. The nighttime hours were easier for the Phantom, as he could patrol the city the like shadow he was. And Marie took comfort in her masked benefactor’s presence. Though she was loathe to trust any man, she felt strangely safe with him, for she was certain that no other rapscallion would dare to approach her while she was in the Phantom’s company. Erik’s gold bought them the information they sought, while Marie utilized her pretty face to draw out the other secrets that lingered in men’s minds. When they finally learned of the Spaniard’s whereabouts, the morning light had stretched through the dingy streets and people were getting ready to go about their day. Not to be deterred, Erik and Marie moved through the dark alleyways until they finally found themselves near Carlos' flat. “What now?” Marie asked breathlessly. Erik looked out into the street and tried to subdue his fear of the stark sunlight. “I don’t know,” he answered honestly. “It won’t be any trouble to get into the building, but it will take some time to ascertain which flat is his. And it will be dangerous, Marie. I don’t want to place you in further jeopardy.” “Don’t worry about me,” the girl replied. “I can take care of myself. Besides, how are you going to get past the landlord?” “I’ll find a way,” Erik said darkly. “But I cannot endanger you any further.” He tipped his hat to her and cast a second glance towards the building. Tension coiled through his body as he gathered his cloak about him and prepared to dash out into the street. “Wait!” Marie cried, laying a strong hand on the Phantom’s arm. Erik hardly needed her to hold him back, for the vision he beheld next stopped him dead in his tracks. The door to the building swung open and there stood the lovely Christine Daae. She surveyed the street anxiously, and raised her hand to her eyes to shield away the bright sun. Erik was beside himself with joy at her appearance, and he longed to call out her name, but another figure moved up beside her. The Spaniard hovered over her shoulder, and to Erik’s amazement, he enfolded Christine in a lover’s embrace. The Phantom fell back against the wall as he watched them share a passionate kiss in the doorway. Could that really be Christine? “Perhaps he has bewitched her,” he choked in dismay. Marie shook her head. She knew many women who would go to any length to accomplish their goals, and she had no doubt that Christine was merely playing a part to enable her escape. The young prostitute looked to Erik, who seemed paralyzed by the sight of his lady in another man’s arms. Marie wanted to comfort him, but did not know if he would accept her consolation. She turned away with a sigh and tried to subdue the strange sadness that suddenly crept into her heart. She knew what she had to do. Without further hesitation, Marie moved out of the shadows and boldly approached the Spaniard and Christine. “Carlos!” she called out, drawing the attention of many a passerby. “Where have you been, mon amour?” The Spaniard looked up at her in surprise, and even Erik was aghast at Marie’s behavior. “Do you remember me, my stallion?” Marie asked, pulling a flask from her pocket to make it appear that she was drunk. “I certainly remember you!” Carlos gave her the look of death, and tried to ignore her. He guided Christine out into the street and shouted loudly for a coach. “Carlos!” Marie persisted, and she sidled up to the Spaniard to embrace him. Carlos pushed her from him, but Marie made another move to grab him, so he released Christine and hurled Marie to the ground. Erik growled and prepared to rush at the villain right then and there, but he held back when he saw Marie give a queer smile. She was taunting the Spaniard, trying to keep him busy, while Christine made a desperate attempt to escape. Erik almost called to her, but Carlos was quick to grab the defenseless diva. “Going somewhere, querida?” he said fiercely. “No,” Christine choked. “I was merely trying to hail us a cab.” “What a nice girl you have there!” Marie slurred. “Carlos! Aren’t you going to introduce me to your lady-friend?” “I have nothing to say to you!” the Spaniard spat, and he pulled Christine into an approaching carriage. Erik lept from the shadows just as the coach sped away. Cursing his luck, he pulled Marie to her feet and quickly summoned another carriage. The unlikely pair bounded into the coach as Erik gave orders to the driver to follow the Spaniard’s carriage. As they raced through the gray alleys, Erik could see that they were driving in the direction of the Opera House. “The battlefield has been chosen,” he said somberly. Marie swallowed hard and again felt a strange tug of sadness. She knew that this time, wherever he went, she would not be able to follow. * Once inside the carriage, Carlos looked to Christine with a venomous glare. “Are you ready to break my trust so soon?” he seethed. “I can’t believe what you expect of me!” Christine cried dramatically. “How embarrassing to be accosted by a prostitute in broad daylight! I was mortified!” “I suppose that is understandable,” Carlos said with a grave look. He glanced out the window impatiently and then looked back to Christine. “I was not prepared to confront your past so soon,” Christine said in her defense. Carlos sighed and took her small hands in his. “That life is behind me.” “I want to believe you….” Christine said softly, her blue eyes sparkling with tears. “I vow, my heart is yours!” he said emphatically. “Christine, you must trust me, and prove yourself worthy of my trust. Por favor!” Christine nodded her head and looked up at him. Her eyes were so startlingly clear. “I will do my best,” she said. ~ Chapter 10 ~ |