"Go now! Go now and leave me!" Eyes flying open in the darkness, those words rang in Christine's mind.

Throwing back the covers, she climbed stiffly from her small bed and felt across the surface of her nightstand for a match to light the candle there. It had to be nearly three in the morning.

Nearly a month had passed since the murder of Joseph Buquet and the fall of the chandelier. A month has passed since she had last seen her angel. A part of her had expected him to come and explain to her why he had committed such atrocious acts of violence.

She knew well the rages he was prone to have, and she only thought to remove Raoul from his path. God help her, though. Never had she thought he was capable of murder. Now that she was alone, it was safe. She did not worry about her own safety. He was her angel after all. Why didn't he come?

Pouring a glass of water with a trembling hand, she thought back to her dream. Every time she closed her eyes it was the same thing. It was more of a nightmare that always awoke her, trembling in fear. Yet, she anticipated it every night. She had kissed him in the dream. She had kissed him to save Raoul. It made her feel like his voice made her feel, and it was nothing like the comfort Raoul's kisses induced.

In the darkness of her room, she blushed guiltily. She was a bad woman, longing for a nightmare only to share a single kiss, thrilling with the fear of it. Her angel was inside her mind at all times, slowly driving her mad. Oh, why didn't he come? She had never gone so long without hearing his voice.

The only person she had told about her dreams was Meg. Her friend had eagerly listened and immediately began to pick it apart, trying to interpret it. Apparently, the girl felt that Christine was merely being hormonal. Raoul was her safety net, while her angel was the fantasy of her blossoming womanhood.

"We all dream of dark and dangerous," Meg had said. "It's the emerging adult in us rebelling against the safety of childhood. In return, the child in us cries and clings to that safety."

Surprisingly, Meg seemed to make sense. When had she grown so wise? Experience made one wise. Christine blushed again at the realization that perhaps Meg really knew what she was talking about.

"And she didn't tell me," she whispered scandalously to the night.

She was completely alone. Who would know if she consciously attempted to explore the womanly desires surfacing in her mind? Turning her thoughts to Raoul, a smile graced her lips. The feel of his arms around her and his mouth caressing hers was pleasant. She tried to imagine how it would feel to be naked and in those comforting arms, but she blushed hotly. He was too noble to ever do anything of the kind unless they were married, and she had no right to have those thoughts about him until they were. Alone or not, it just wasn't right!

Shaking her head, she blew out the candle and climbed beneath the covers. In the darkness, she continued to see candlelight. Her eyes had not even slipped closed and the nightmare had already begun. Soon his arms would entwine her and she would fall into his world of unending night. She fell into the golden glow of his eyes instead.

The memory of those eyes made her shudder. Clearly and unflinchingly, her mind easily gave birth to thoughts of his hands on her untouched body. She thought of the pain that would come when he pierced her for the first time and she writhed beneath the covers, clutching them tightly to her chest.

What was she doing? How could the thought of pain in any form excite her so?

Too many questions, and she had to have answers. Christine was a true student. If she had questions, she sought answers instead of pondering the possibilities like a philosopher. If her mind was going to plague her with these thoughts of her murderous teacher, then she was just going to have to ask her teacher why!

Donning a warm robe, she padded silently out of her room and down the stairs to the door that led to the stable. She didn't have to worry about being here alone since Joseph's untimely demise. Shuddering, she secretly admitted to herself that she was glad he was dead. Was killing a man such as him really murder? She frowned. Had she ever considered Joseph a man? Human seemed too gracious a term to apply to the foul smelling animal.

Music.

Thrilling, soul invasive music pulled her from her thoughts and she tilted her head, trying to see in the oppressive darkness that now surrounded her. A light glistened from beyond the lake. She couldn't even remember reaching the stables, but it didn't matter. Skirting the edge of the lake, she searched a particular section of wall. To the wandering eye it looked like solid wall, but like many things here it was only illusion. There was a small section that one could pass through into a tunnel that led around the lake.

Feeling along the wall, she paused for a moment as his voice filled the cavernous space like thunder. It was an erotic, passionate melody that did nothing to ease her tormented thoughts.

"What sweet seduction lies before us?"

Indeed, she smiled wryly as her eyes turned back to the portion of wall her hand had just slipped through. Sliding inside, she pressed her hand to the right portion of the rock wall and followed it around the lake. Following the left would take you down a long, winding path and off a hundred foot drop.

The sound of his composition followed her. Occasionally it would stop, and she could clearly see in her mind him pausing to write down the notes only to begin again. His voice no longer blended with the sound of the organ, but the instrument was enough to make her clench her skirts tightly in her right hand.

She closed her eyes at an onslaught of memories. "Fear can turn to love, you'll learn to see… to find the man behind the monster, this repulsive carcass that seems a beast, but secretly dreams of beauty."

"Secretly dreams…" she whispered to the curtain that draped innocently in front of her. Her fingers curled into the velvet and pushed it aside as she entered the dimly lit chamber. Every lit candle was positioned on or around the organ and he looked like a dark angel illuminated in the gentle light.

Silently, she approached him. It never occurred to her that he might be angry that she was here. He had told her that this was her home as well, and she had merely been a wandering child.

She blinked and looked down at her feet. How easy it was to think of this place as home. Had she ever considered any place home? No, not even her house by the sea was given that title. Moving forward the final step, she gazed down at the man before her.

He wasn't wearing his mask, but his haunting visage no longer repulsed her. His overwhelming presence attracted her like a moth to a flame. There would never be another man like him, and she felt a sudden warmth gathering below her diaphragm at the thought that this unique creature felt she was worthy of him.

Too many questions were in her addled brain. She was weary of being confused and afraid. "Teach me what this means," she pleaded silently as her hands tentatively rested upon his shoulders.

Leaning forward, she breathed against his ear. "Show me your face without fear."

He leaped away from the organ in one fluid motion as though her words had burned him. The dark red robe he wore was open and she could not stop her eyes from focusing on his exposed chest.

He was unnaturally tall with a skeletal form and pale skin stretched tightly over protruding ribs. Clearly defined muscles crossed his abdomen from the difficult masonry work he constantly performed upon his home, and his stomach was painfully sunken in. A fine line of dark reddish hair trailed from his navel down below the band of the loose pants draping across small bony hips.

Lifting her eyes before they could trail lower, she met his blazing golden gaze. He was angry that she was here.

Boldly stepping forward to face his anger, she placed her small hands upon his shoulders once more. He did not move as she slipped the robe from them and watched it drape across his lower back. Grasping her arms tightly, fingers biting with bruising pressure into the tender flesh of her wrist, he shoved her away. She came off her feet and landed in the floor on her back.

"What are you doing here, Christine?" He advanced on her crumpled form, shrugging back into the robe. "How can you dare to come here after you betrayed me with that boy?"

She scrambled backwards from him until her back met the cool steel of the portcullis. He continued to advance on her, radiating anger. Roughly, he grabbed her wrists once more and hauled her to a stand.

"What do you want?" He shouted at her, taking a last step forward until she was pinned tightly against the gate.

A flush crept along her heaving breasts and up her neck as a tiny moan of pleasure escaped her trembling lips.

"I want to know why this terror I feel excites me," she whispered, closing her eyes in shame. Her treacherous body responded heatedly to the fell of his pressed against it. He released one of her wrists only to take her chin firmly between his long, pale fingers.

"Curiosity is a dangerous thing," he growled. "People have died in search of the terrifying thrill of seeing my face."

She whimpered even as her hips wriggled slightly trying to make contact with his. What was she doing? This made no sense. She was practically begging for him while wanting nothing more than to escape back to the safety of her room and cry in shame.

"That's not what I meant," she whispered in a small voice, trying to still her writhing. "I don't know what I meant. I just… I had to see you."

"Well, now you've seen me." He released her abruptly and her knees nearly gave out beneath her. She fell against him, clinging tightly around his neck even as she pulled his twisted face down to hers. Nothing mattered more than the feel of that tightly set mouth softening against her own.

Again, her feet left the floor and she was pressed tightly between cool flesh and even cooler metal. His mouth assaulted hers as his skeletal fingers snaked about her hips lifting her higher. She reached up and threaded her arms through the bars of the portcullis so he could free his hands to roam her body.

She had to be dreaming again. Any moment, she would awaken in a cold sweat, terrified of him and even more of herself. Yet, she did not awake and his hands did not ease their pressure upon her body. His fingers dug into her skin as his hands found their way beneath her robe. There would be bruises if she survived this, and she gasped as the thought brought a damp wetness spreading across her inner thighs.

He broke the kiss and gazed at her in anger and confusion.

"Is this what you want?" He demanded, grasping her chemise in his free hand and ripping it from her trembling body. Still in the grasp of his music, he never stopped to think that this was as close as he had ever been to another human. He only felt anger at her invasion and wished to punish her, but when tears began to roll freely down her face, his expression softened. "I don't want to hurt you, Christine. Why must you always provoke this monster that lives inside of me?"

Her eyes widened in terror at her response. "God help me, I want you to hurt me."

There was no possible way to expect the effect those words would have on either one of them. She continued to hold herself up with one arm while the other reached down and began frantically pushing at the band of his pants. Moaning against the bruising assault of his mouth on hers, she finally achieved her goal as her knuckles brushed against something silky and at the same time hard as stone. Twisting limberly, she pressed the obstructive material down until she could snag it with her foot and completely remove it.

He gasped and stumbled backwards away from her, but she continued to remain suspended upon the gate like a crucified angel. She was wearing nothing but her robe and his hungry gaze roamed over her before he tore his eyes away from the almost sacrilegious vision. Dark bruises were already spreading around her waist, a visible testament of his rough treatment. In all of the books he possessed, he had never seen anything at once so horrific and erotic.

Christine was thinking the same thing as she watched him war with his inner demons.

"Who are you?" He moaned, falling to his knees before her. "Are you my punishment for desiring heaven above this hell?"

"I am merely what you have made me," she replied coldly. "Is this what you wanted when you told me that fear could turn to love?"

Anger flared once more at her insolent tone and he was on his feet once more. "You're twisting my words," he growled.

"Perhaps," she breathed as his sharply boned hips settled roughly between her aching thighs. Raising herself higher, she rubbed herself against the silk hardness that she had discovered moments before, allowing him to feel her bodies response to him.

His hands circled her hips and pulled her down upon him in a swift movement. They both cried out in blinding pain, voices blending like thunder and the sizzle of lightening. The action was performed before each had time to think, and Christine sobbed as her head fell forward onto his shoulder.

"Is this really what you wanted?" He sighed against her curls.

She nodded, lowering her arms to encircle his shoulders. The only thing holding her against the iron gate was his body, his fingers circled tightly around the bars on either side of her. The only other response she could make was to wrap her legs tightly about his waist. With a slight rock of her own hips, she had completely impaled herself upon him.

It was a pain like she had never thought to know, and the pleasure of it was pure torture. Her nails dug into the pale flesh of his back, drawing blood as he withdrew and pressed into her again.

"Heaven help me," she cried as she felt him bite into her shoulder in an attempt to stay his release. "God forgive me!"

This was exactly what she had wanted, dreamed of, and feared. She had never even imagined that pain and pleasure were so close together and that one could easily melt into the other. Yet, she had suspected. Why else would she have felt that tight yearning low in her body when first he had displayed his anger? She brought this on herself by removing his mask

As he continued to rock harshly into her fragile seeming body, she reached up and twined her fingers with his. He nailed his crucified angel repeatedly to the portcullis until she was sure her back would bear the crossing marks of the bars she now desperately clung to. His assault seemed to go on forever and if she died a thousand times in this torment, it was only a different concept of heaven.

"Damn you, Christine," he growled, piercing her once more before his entire form quaked against hers. She screamed as her own release crashed upon her like a tidal wave.

They both released the bars and slid slowly down the portcullis to the cold stone beneath them. There they lay in a tangle of robes and limbs, bruised and bleeding. She buried her face in his neck and breathed in the scent of him, noticing for the first time that his normally icy skin was burning.

"Thank you," she whispered, grazing her teeth against his neck and nipping the flesh gently. "Once again you have taught me that there is nothing to fear in the darkness."