From Shadows to Starlight

Betrayed

Chapter Thirty-one

"One should die rather than be betrayed. There is no deceit in death. It delivers precisely what it has promised. Betrayal though...betrayal is the willful slaughter of hope." --Stephen Dietz

Betrayed

Looking at the woman before him was like taking a look into the past, a past where everything had been turned upside down. Erik blinked a few times to make sure that what he was seeing was real. There she was, in that same white lace dressing gown, her dark hair in loose curls, her brown eyes gazing up at him with a look of wonder. She seemed so innocent, trusting, and a little afraid. He didn't know what he felt.

"What are you doing here?" was all he could say. Even he, an outcast of traditional society, knew it was the height of impropriety for her to have come here at this hour of the night.

She just stared at him, and though looking at her pained him and made him afraid, he could not tear himself away from her gaze. His thoughts raced wildly along with his pulse, and he realized that what happened in the next few moments could change the course of everything. In the midst of this his mind went to Alana. Everything had descended into a fog. He didn't know what he wanted, and he didn't know what to do.

"I saw you tonight from across the ballroom," Christine said. "I've been wanting to speak to you."

Erik swallowed. "What do you mean? After the last time..."

"I know what happened the last time I saw you," she interrupted, breathless. "but you don't know how I felt after you left."

What is happening here? he thought. He still could not find the words.

"I saw you escape, but you were hurt so badly, and I was afraid you would die in the street somewhere, or that someone would find you...turn you in, or finish you off themselves. Not knowing what would happen to you was more than I could bear, and then when I saw you tonight, I couldn't believe it. You were alive and well, and not only that, you seemed more alive than ever before."

Though it was mostly confusion that floated around in his mind, Erik felt a twinge of anger. "Do you mean to say, then, that you care about me?"

She blinked, and then she smiled at him. "Of course I do." Then she looked down, guilt spreading across her face. "I know some of the things I've done don't exactly make that clear..."

"They don't," Erik said coldly, remembering the shame he'd felt when she'd pulled his mask off in front of everyone, the agony he'd felt as she placed the ring in his hands and left him. Could he really forgive such things? She'd caused him so much pain, and just an hour before he'd finally felt freedom from that pain. Yet now he could feel something creeping up inside of him, something cold and dark and fierce. That old friend and enemy, who had everything under his control.

"But I'm so, so sorry for everything. I was wrong about all of it." Her eyes darted nervously from the right to the left. "It's not safe to stay and talk here. Come with me. I know a place where no one will find us." She extended a hand to him.

Erik backed up a step. "Why should I trust you?" His voice was just a whisper.

"Have you forgotten your Angel?" She echoed the sad, desperate question he had once asked her. "I will never do anything to hurt you, ever again," she said softly. "You're my master, my teacher, my angel of music."

"You know I am no angel," said Erik bitterly.

"You are to me." Christine took his hand, and for some reason, he didn't let go. "Now come...please."

Go, a voice whispered and shouted to him. Go.

And he went.

He followed her down the stairs and through the opulent house, her hand in his. It was so much like their first descent underground months ago, only this time, the roles had reversed. He was not completely trusting, but something was pulling him along. Whatever happened next, it was meant to be, and he was not afraid. Whatever happened, he could handle it. He was strong, he was intelligent, he was unstoppable. He could be wounded, but he could never be defeated.