An American Home

Fear

As Jane had predicted, Khan moved along the edges of society, somehow gaining entrance to every event that Katherine and Erik attended. He didn't approach either one, just watched. Occasionally, he had the nerve to salute them with whatever glance was in his hand at the time.

If it affected Erik at all, he didn't show it. He was quickly becoming the most sought after man in New York City. Aspiring architects and designers sought his opinion on their designs. He was free to go to the opera house without having to hide in the shadows. Maeve and Isabella finally met their instructor in person, much to Madame Giry's disapproval.

The end of March was approaching quickly. Katherine was both apprehensive for the arrival of Christine Daae, and thrilled at the chance to have her father with her once again. The evening of her last evening out arrived. Even the cleverest of Erik's design could not hide her coming baby, and it was time for her to bow out of society for the rest of her pregnancy.

Michaela stood on the edge of the room. For once, she had no interest in having fun. Instead, she was on the lookout for Ahmir Khan. Yes, their plan was working. But it had also come to a state of check. Neither side was capable, or was unwilling, to make a move. Each uncertain as to what the other's intentions were.

And Michaela did not like being in check.

Because she was watching, she saw Katherine become pale on the dance floor and stumbled. Erik caught her and then lead her to the closest seat. She wasn't surprised when the host joined them and then hurried away, presumably to call for the Ombra carriage. Jane was on hand to assist Katherine to walk out.

“You're not going to your friend?”

Pleased that she hadn't flinched, Michaela faced Khan, who was at her side with a drink in his hand. “Fussing will only draw attention to her,” she answered, pleased that he had come to her. Now was her opportunity to force a move, or learn something. “I'm surprised you would stoop to speak to a child such as myself, sir.”

“Your friend has deep loyalty to her husband,” Khan commented, not looking at her. “I respect that.”

“They love each other,” Michaela felt obliged to point out. “But what could a man like you, who hunts people down for a living, know about love?”

Her words made the man flinch. One point for her. “And yet, he was obsessed with a ballet dancer, not that long ago. I doubt his love for her is that strong,” he responded, his tone cool.

Angrily, Michaela clenched her hands into fists but willed herself not to say a word that would give him the information he was clearly trying to get from her. One point for him. “I think we're speaking about two different men, Mr. Khan,” she told him. “Why can you not just tell whoever sent you here that there has been a mistake? Leave Katherine and Erik in peace.”

“Even if I were to leave, they are still coming,” Khan warned. “They would see him dead.”

“Stop with the pronoun game and just tell me who is coming!”

A few people glanced over at Michaela's outburst. Khan leaned closer and said, “Philippe de Chagny. Raoul de Chagny and his wife. And John Arden.”

Gasping, Michaela jerked away from him, her eyes going wide with horror. She knew what Arden had done. “Arden?” she repeated. Khan nodded, looking very serious. “Oh, no.”

“You know something of him?”

“I know that he would have killed Katherine,” Michaela responded, her mind racing. Khan's eyes darkened. He should have chosen his employer more wisely. “He would have forced her to marry him, would have locked in an insane asylum alongside her father, and then left her there to die alone. All so that he could have her money.”