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Somehow, Christine always knew that Marie-Eve was Erik's. She thought maybe not speaking about it would make it all go away, but as Marie-Eve grew up – her intense, yellow eyes, her pale skin, her posture, the proud manner in which she carried herself, her dark charisma – she was a complete reflection of him.

Christine remembered that night… She had fallen asleep in her dressing room after a long day of rehearsing Don Juan Triumphant. She had meant only to take a short nap, setting up a small cot on the floor of her dressing room. But when she awoke, the room was dark and the opera house was empty…

But Christine was not alone… she turned and saw him there… he had obviously entered through the mirror. He stood perfectly still, staring at her. A fire of lust and desire burned in those eyes, and she grew very afraid. She leapt from the cot and headed for the door, but Erik caught her arm, pulling her back.

"Please, Erik!" Christine cried.

"Why do you run from me?" he asked, his voice silky smooth. "Do you really think I would harm you?" He pulled her body firmly against his own. Her sweet feminine fragrance filled his senses.

"Erik… I love Raoul… I'm sorry! Please! Can't you just let us be?"

"That boy has blinded you! Don't you see? If you stay with him, he'll make you give up singing! Tell me, is that what you want?" He buried his face into her hair, inhaling deeply. "This is what you want, isn't it?" Slowly, he brushed his lips along her neck, down her throat. "Be honest, now. Since I first came to you, you have wanted me, haven't you?" His voice was thick with a fierce hunger. One arm held her controllingly against himself, while the other reached inside her dressing gown, fondling her soft flesh.

Christine moaned. Yes, she had wanted him. She had wanted him then. But things change, she told herself. She realized long ago who she truly loved. It wasn't Erik. It was Raoul.

"Erik, please let me go!" Christine begged.

"Why do you deny me? I know you, Christine. It doesn't matter what I look like. Not when I sing to you. Not when I touch you…" His lips savoured her throat, moving across the vulnerable jugular vein. He could feel her pounding pulse. Then he felt her breathing slow. The spell he cast over her was overwhelming. She sank against him, her eyelids growing heavy and eventually closing. She was relenting to him, helpless to the power of his seductive caresses.

"It could be beautiful between us, don't you agree?"

"Yes…" she breathed.

"Tell me, Christine… What do you want?"

"I…" The swell of her chest rose and fell rapidly. The power he held over her was more than she could resist.

"Tell me."

"I want you," she whispered huskily.

Erik smiled to himself. He knew she would make the right choice. He spun her around and ripped off the dressing gown. With one quick motion, she was lying on the cot again, with him on top of her. Everything was so dark… all she could see of him was his white mask, looming over her. He leaned down, forcing her mouth open and kissing her violently, his tongue pushing its way into her mouth and tasting her sweetness. His lips slowly moved away from hers, trailing over her jaw, down her neck… His lips found her soft breasts with their hard nipples, which were quite noticeably erect. His mouth closed over one of those pulsing ends and he devoured the soft skin. He pulled her body up to meet his own as he suckled her, his lips and tongue tugging and pulling at the sensitive flesh.

"Erik…" she moaned. She writhed beneath him. Each touch of his fingers set her skin aflame. She wanted him… She wanted…

She wanted him?

No, that was wrong. She didn't want him. She wanted Raoul. Raoul… Raoul.

"Raoul!"

She felt Erik freeze. Then his hands grabbed her wrists and pinned them on either side of her head. His grip was tight and hard as steel. His touch was as cold as ice.

"What did you say?" he demanded. That white mask hovered only inches from her face now. She felt his hot breath on her cheek. His anger made the air thick and his fury hung over her like a heavy blanket. She couldn't breath.

"You still cry out for him? You still deny me? You still return to him?"

"No, Erik! No!"

"Yes! Even now that boy has you under his control. Don't you see, Christine? He'll destroy you! He'll destroy us both!" Christine squeezed her eyes shut. Erik's excellent night-vision allowed him to see that her cheeks were wet with tears. He sighed heavily, and tried convincing her again. "What do you want, Christine?"

"I want…"

"Yes?"

"Raoul! I want Raoul! And nothing you do will change that!"

Christine closed her eyes and cringed, awaiting his fury. Surely he would scream at her. Probably strike her. Maybe, if he were angry enough, he'd decide to pull out his Punjab lasso and put it to use. But nothing happened. Only silence. Then she felt something that she wasn't expecting. His lips brushed along her throat, a gentle touch… As gentle as any touch he had ever bestowed on her… His lips travelled upwards, across her cheek. They halted beside her ear.

"I beg to differ…" was his whispered reply.

She felt his hands go to her hips. They slowly slid down to her thighs. Then to the inside of her thighs. Then, in one violent motion, she felt him force her legs open. There was a sharp stab of pain.

"Erik!"

"Allow me to show you just what it is that you're turning your back on!" he growled at her. He grabbed her backside and pulled her up close against him, deepening his entry.

"Erik! Please!"

He moved hard inside of her, his body sliding hotly against hers. She resisted at first. But then her body seemed to relax, falling into rhythm with his own. The boy might have her heart, but he knew that her spirit, some small part of her soul, would always belong to him. That was why she always came back to him. That was why she constantly submitted to him.

She participated willingly in his taking. Perhaps her heart did not want him, but he knew her body was yearning for him. She was hungry for him.

At last, they reached the peak of their pleasure, and with a ragged cry he fell on top of her. His mind was reeling. He felt dizzy. Rolling off of her, he pulled her into his arms again.

She belonged to him.

He fell asleep almost immediately. Their union had drained him.

She awoke the next morning. He was still there, his arms holding her possessively.

She was his.

Tears crept out of the corners of her eyes. She thought of Raoul. What would he think if he found out? She had wanted Raoul to be the one to break her innocence. Raoul… the man she loved.

Erik awoke when he felt something wet against his chest. He opened his eyes and stared at her groggily.

Was she an angel?

Yes. She was an angel. His angel. Beautiful, innocent, tender… And she was here with him.

With him?

Why would any angel want to be with a monster? Such things of beauty belonged in Heaven, not with demons. Desperately, he sought her eyes. Her face was buried into his chest, and when he pulled her away and looked into her eyes, he found them red with tears.

The memory of the previous night came back to him all at once.

Erik got off of her, the realization of what he had just done hit him full force, like a punch in the stomach. What had he done? He had tainted his angel, robbed her of her innocence! But worst of all, he had merely proved to her what everyone else already knew – that he was a monster! A demon! How could he have done something so terrible to one he claimed to love so much?

"Christine!" he cried in a gasping sob. He was practically hysterical. "I'm sorry! I'm so sorry! I didn't… please, I didn't mean to! I'm sorry! Please, Christine, forgive me! I'm sorry!"

Christine stared at him in awe. Could this truly be the same man who came to her last night? That man had been cold and forceful. But this man… He was so ashamed. He was so much like a child… a child starved of love and physical pleasure. He needed to feel loved. Surely, even she couldn't deny him that?

Christine took his head into her hands and cradled him against herself. She murmured reassuring words of forgiveness and comfort, while his arms hugged her tightly around her waist and he buried his face into her and sobbed anew.

She was unaware of when he left. She suddenly felt the warmth of sunlight entering through her small window, and noticed that her arms were empty. She was alone.

Christine composed herself and arrived at rehearsals like nothing ever happened. Two months later, the opening night of Don Juan Triumphant took place. That fateful night when Ubaldo Piangi died, when Christine nearly became Erik's prisoner, when she had to buy Raoul's life for the price of a kiss…

Raoul and Christine left Paris behind them that night. They retreated to a small country town far away from the city. Christine wanted to get married right away. She was anxious to begin her new life with Raoul. And also, she feared that she might be pregnant…

Raoul didn't say anything about Marie-Eve's being born only seven months after their wedding, but Christine saw the look in his eyes when he held his daughter. Those eyes were so full of love for the precious bundle in his arms. Yet there was also a glimmer of pain and despair. A hurt that went beyond mere regret. Christine saw those eyes and instantly knew – Raoul knew who the true father was.

Two years later, Christine had another child by Raoul, who she named Richard. The family lived a simple life for many years in that little town…

Richard grew to be a handsome boy, like his father, though quiet and thoughtful. He had an active imagination and could often be found buried in some book, immersed in a fantasyland of dragons and kings and elves and witches.

Marie-Eve also was a quiet child. But unlike her brother, she tended to withdraw from others, and actually became quite the little recluse. She could spend virtually hours secluded in her room, rejecting any and all contact with her family, or anyone else for that matter. She was very pretty, but she held a dark charm that made her seem almost sinister. Moreover, she had a certain disregard for rules and discipline… but how intelligent she was! History, sciences, mathematics, art, philosophy… all subjects came easily to her.

But Marie-Eve's true claim to fame was her musical talent…

Christine was astonished when, one day at church, Marie-Eve sat at the organ and composed a most beautiful piece. Christine demanded to know where she had acquired such knowledge.

Marie-Eve simply shrugged. "I just know…"

Years went by in this manner. Richard soon was eight years old and popular at school. Marie-Eve was ten, and although she had become beautiful and bright and talented, none of the other children would have anything to do with her. Christine didn't understand how this could be.

"All of the children at school are afraid of her," Richard declared one day.

"What do you say that?" Christine asked.

"Because Emily was teasing me one day," Richard explained, "and Marie-Eve said that if she wasn't nice to me that a disaster beyond her imagination would occur."

Christine nearly dropped the dish she was washing. An echo from the past rang in her ears… "Should these commands be ignored, a disaster beyond your imagination will occur!"

Christine swallowed hard. "It that true, Marie-Eve?"

Marie-Eve smirked. "No one make fun of him anymore."

So here was the secret behind Richard's popularity and the other children's fear of Marie-Eve… She was threatening them all into liking Richard!

Just as Erik had once threatened Firmin and Andre into favouring Christine…

Christine knew this had to end. She had to stop Marie-Eve's reign of terror… before she ended up like Erik…

So that night when she went to tuck Marie-Eve into bed, she took in a chair and sat down.

"Marie-Eve, darling, we must talk."

"We talk all the time, Mama," Marie-Eve replied, uninterested.

"I thought maybe we could talk about school?"

"I like school. Madame Gobeil is very nice, and she thinks I'm smart."

"You are smart, child. But what about the other children? Don't you have any friends?"

Marie-Eve hesitated. "…No."

"Don't you think you would have more friends if you stopped threatening all the other children?"

"But Mama," Marie-Eve protested. "If I didn't threaten them, they'd all be mean to Richard! I love Richard, and I want him to have friends!"

"Yes, but I think Richard can make friends on his own. Besides, don't you think he would probably like to see you have more friends, too?"

"I don't need any friends," Marie-Eve declared. "Carole is the only friend I need!"

Christine smiled sadly. Carole was the name Marie-Eve had given to the church organ.

"Mama, can't we get a piano of our own?" Marie-Eve begged as though she were asking for a puppy. "I promise I'd take good care of it and practice everyday!"

"Pianos are expensive!" Christine's tone grew harsh. "Besides, you should concentrate more on your studies and stop entertaining these silly thoughts about becoming a musician. A pretty girl like you could marry young and bring up a family. Playing silly operas will never buy your daily bread!"

Marie-Eve slumped back and crossed her arms. "Sometimes I think this place would be cheerier if only there was a little music around…"

Christine bit her lip. She knew Marie-Eve was right. How Christine missed music… missed singing… but, no. She could not ever let Marie-Eve be drawn into that world. Christine nearly lost everything dear to her through music. She was not going to let her daughter follow her down that path!

"I'll see you in the morning, mon ange," Christine said, effectively ending the discussion. She stood up to leave.

"Have you ever heard him?" Marie-Eve asked suddenly.

Christine furrowed her brow. "Heard who?"

Marie-Eve hesitated, seemingly embarrassed by what she was going to say next. "Have you ever heard… the Angel of Music singing songs in your head?"

Christine swayed… It couldn't be!

"Marie-Eve, stop being silly!" Christine snapped. "There is no Angel of Music! It's all just a childish dream!"

Christine left the room in tears, realizing that there were some things that neither time, nor distance, could ever erase.

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