Guardian Angel

Chapter 2: The Violinist's Daughter

Erik Destler had never touched a woman before; well, he may have brushed against one in passing, but never in his life had a woman fallen into his arms like Christine Daae had. Her bloodied hand was entwined with his, crushing him with the force of a python, but he had little care for the pain. She needed him and he refused to disappoint her.

He whispered consolations in her ear, hoping that his voice would soothe the tremors that wracked her body. Each word that passed his lips was honey coated, though not falsely as he had done in the past. He meant them this time. He felt the need to comfort her, unlike any other before. This small creature in his arms was his to care for and now that Gustave Daae was dead she needed a guardian. It had to be him.

Several minutes of heart-shattering sobbing had passed before she finally started to settle and loosened her hold on his hand. His fingers were sore and he wanted to stretch them, but he couldn't bear the thought of letting go of her. It was everything about her that kept him in place: the auburn curls that tickled his neck, the radiating heat of her body pressed up against his, but what weakened him the most was the intoxicating scent of lemon and lavender that filled his nostrils. He made a mental note to track down the same bath salts for her use.

Her soft sniffles broke every single protective barrier he had built over his thirty-four years of life and though he attempted to blink it away, a single tear leaked down his masked cheek. He was thankful it hadn't been on the exposed half, as he didn't have a hand free to wipe it away before she could see.

Erik stopped breathing when she shifted against him, then her face lifted to his. His heart stopped when their eyes connected. Hers were the color of chestnuts and so very beautiful, unlike anything he had ever seen before. It was then that he realized how very close they were. Her wet trembling lips were just inches from his and when she spoke he nearly lost himself completely.

"What is your name, monsieur?" she whispered. Her breath blew across his face and he had to suppress the moan that nearly escaped his lips.

He swallowed hard and attempted to make audible speech. "Erik." He was relieved the disclosure of his name hadn't sounded like a distressed hound.

She offered a soft smile with her perfect rosy lips followed by the sweetest words to ever bless his ears. "Thank you, Erik. Thank you for saving my life."

Erik returned her smile, though he was sure his was awfully lackluster compared to hers. After all, his lips would never be enticing to a woman...to her. "Anytime, mademoiselle." And he meant it. Anyone who dared to even think about harming her would meet a fate worse than death. Oh, but she would never be in danger under his care, he would be sure of it.

Her eyes scanned his face before landing on his mask. Of course, she was already interested in the mask, just as everyone was. He fought everything within himself not to jump out of the carriage and run the rest of the way home. But, there was no way in Hell he was leaving her alone, not after the promise he had made to his late friend.

Before she could question it, he craned his neck to the side so the mask was no longer visible to her. He couldn't risk the possibility of her removing it, not when they were in such close proximity to each other and she had nowhere to run and hide. Once glance and she would be wishing that he had allowed the blade of that knife to penetrate her heart.

He still felt her watchful gaze and he clenched his jaw as she shifted closer. Was she going to force him to turn back towards her so she could see beneath? He prepared himself to hear the screams of terror from the only woman he had ever felt anything for, but instead, she laid her head on his chest and let out a heavy breath. His heart thumped wildly as she nuzzled into him, then her soft sobs returned and he could do nothing else but continue his previous consolations.