by Kailin Gow
“That lovely voice,” he said to no one in particular. His eyes had glazed over and his lips had taken a peculiar turn. “What good has it brought me, that voice? What good has come of any of the work I’ve done, for you, for me, for the world of opera?”
His thumb began to squeeze into my throat and I tried to bring my hands up to reach for his wrist.
Breathing became impossible and the room became dim and small. Kristine did nothing to stop him. She was passively allowing him to kill me, and she was enjoying it.
Tears came to my eyes as I watched the murder in Eric’s every feature. He pushed me back until I hit the wall then put added pressure to my throat.
“Eric,” I finally managed to croak out. “Please, Eric.”
Kristine quickly resumed control though I could feel her weakened power.
Eric inhaled deeply, gave me a final thrust against the wall and released me. I slumped to the floor and reached for the soreness of my neck.
“You sicken me, Kristine.” He stomped to the door.
Kristine beamed victoriously as he glanced back. His eyes held her gaze and I saw a brief moment of recognition.
Relieved, I stopped fighting Kristine a moment.
He knew.
Chapter 7
Eric
I’ve been duped. Above all that I’d heard and seen between Annette and Aaron, this was what now angered me so. How could I have possibly suspected Annette of being as treacherous as only Kristine could be?
Turning to the wall just outside Annette’s dressing room, I punched into the plaster with more anger and strength than intended, leaving an unsightly hole. My love of everything that was opera, even this New York version of the famed Paris Opera House, had me immediately regretting the gesture. Though deep inside, a part of me felt it was a direct strike at Aaron. And that felt rather good.
Would the power of the Aragons never cease to cause upheaval in my life? Was it not enough that Kristine had ruined me a hundred years ago with her liaison to Rupert Aragon? Though I tried to figure out her motive for now pitting me up against Aaron, I could make no sense of it.
Returning to the tunnels that would lead me home, my mind swirled with hundreds of questions; all unanswered. Every turn in the tunnels brought about a new theory, a fresh explanation and a feasible solution.
But when I entered my home, my bedchamber, visions of Annette and Aaron returned with a vengeance. Aaron was smart, handsome and wealthy. He had the power to open every door to the arts, high society and a life of leisure. It was conceivable that Annette be attracted to this great power; what girl wouldn’t be?
And Aaron… his love for Annette was evident. Not only his admiration for the great talent she possessed, but for her heart and soul.
Had that last glimpse of her been a trick of light? Had it truly been Annette smiling so victoriously and I hadn’t the courage to face the truth? The pain of knowing she could possibly love him was unbearable and my heart ached with every step I took in my chamber.
Seeing her clothes and personal affects strewn about my home only reminded me of how much she meant to me. I picked up the shirt she’d worn the night before and remembered the kiss of her lips. Feeling heady and hungry for her, I brought the garment to my nostrils and inhaled the remnants of her fragrance.
My entire body responded and my resolve to help her increased in intensity.
Though there was a possibility that Annette had truly fallen in love with Aaron, that she had been in complete control during their encounter, I had to consider the possibility of Kristine’s part in all of it.
I glimpsed the small white box on my dresser and quickly reached for it. Remembering my inability to touch the crimson cross within, I sought my leather gloves and hoped it would be enough.
In a fog of plans, trepidation and fear, I hurried back to Annette’s dressing room. The halls were a rush of preparation, of last minute adjustments and exquisite anticipation for the night’s show.
My polite knock at the door was meant to sooth Annette’s fears and reassure her of my calmed anger. “Annette,” I said in a hushed and remorseful tone. “May I please come in?”
Silence.
My heart raced as I feared she’d already joined the cast for their pre-show ritual.
Then the doorknob slowly turned and the door opened a crack. Her eyes, soft and fearful gazed at me.
“I owe you a great apology, Annette.” I looked for traces of Kristine and could not find any. Who was I now facing?
She opened the door and allowed me in. “I don’t have much time, Eric. Everyone will be waiting for me.”
The rich and deep green of her gown played exquisitely against her pale skin and dark hair. Now pinned up as Kristine would have worn it years ago, she was a vision to behold.
“I allowed my anger to get the better of me.”
She turned to the mirror and examined her reflection with a pleased eye. A glimmer of Kristine’s vanity showed through, empowering me more.
“You’ve a right to love whomever you choose and I must abide by your choice.”
Accustomed to seeing me angered to the point of madness, Kristine drew her lips down in a disappointed frown for a brief moment. She turned to me with a flame of treachery in her eyes. “I’m happy to see you’ve come to your senses, Eric. It was never my intention to hurt you, to lead you to believe that you and I could…”
Though I knew I was taking part in a play, a ruse and that this was just theatrics, my heart tightened and pained as she uttered the words.
“We’ve never truly had a future together.”
“Of course. I’ve known all along.” I gazed into her eyes, clearly seeing Kristine’s disappointment at my continued calm and acceptance of our fate. While my fingers pried open the small box in my pocket and scooped up Joana’s cross, I brought my free hand to her neck and gently fingered the skin I’d recently abused. “Please tell me I didn’t truly harm you.”
“I feel fine, Eric. You frightened me more than anything.”
“Let me see.” I tilted her chin up and saw the red markings where my thumb had pressed into her throat. I flinched. Trailing my fingers over the tender skin, I watched her relax and close her eyes.
Inside my pocket, my fingers worked to have the chain ready to be clasped about her neck. I inhaled deeply, and leaned down to kiss the smooth line of her jaw while I brought the cross out of hiding and quickly secured it in place.
Her reaction was instantaneous and violent. Her eyes flew open with rage while she bared her teeth and growled at me. “What is this?” she screeched. “Get it off me! Get it off me!”
She struggled and twirled in a vain attempt to flee the pain of the cross. Bending over, she managed to get the cross to leave her chest, but it didn’t stop the pain.
I reached out and brought my thumb to her forehead to mark the sign of the cross. This threw her into a fit of rage as she thrashed about striking whatever got in her way.
“I command this evil spirit leave Annette’s body. Do not enter her again. In God’s name, Amen.” The words felt strange on my tongue, but Joana had assured me they would ward off Kristine’s hold of Annette.
“How dare you do this to me,” Kristine shouted. Her hands flailed out in attempts to strike me, but she seemed blinded by her rage. “How dare you. You vile monster.”
My hand automatically reached for my face, fingering the skin that had remained scarred and unsightly for so long.
“No one could even bare to look at you. Only I was capable of loving you, Eric. Only I had the heart to be with you.”
And she had never missed an opportunity to remind me of such. Despite the love she now claimed to have had for me, she’d controlled me and used me, sending me running to the salvation of the darkened tunnels below the Paris Opera House by simply reminding me of the monster I truly was.
“I did everything to help you, everything to bring you a life of wealth and luxury. When I plotted out Rupert’s demise at yo
ur hands it was for us, Eric. To give us a better life.”
“You tried to frame me for his murder.” Defending myself to her decrepit soul was useless, but the words nonetheless echoed in the small room.
“You’d betrayed me. You’d let me down. You never loved me, Eric. Neither you nor Rupert ever truly loved me. You both used me, toyed with my affection and left me struggling when things didn’t go your way. You deceived me into thinking you wanted to be with me for life. And now you're ruining everything again.”
Her face was twisted into an ugly grimace that was barely recognizable and the choking sounds that emanated from her had me fearing for Annette’s life. Would Kristine kill Annette rather than free her?
“I hate you, Eric,” she groaned. Her eyes rolled back in her head. “For all eternity, I shall loath you.”
She crumpled to the floor, unconscious.
Chapter 8
Annette
The pounding of an intense headache greeted me as the distant sound of Eric’s voice broke into my consciousness.
“Annette, wake up.”
I felt the weight of the cross around my neck and remembered the last moments with Kristine. My eyes fluttered open and I tried to focus on Eric’s face.
“Annette?” He cradled me, his fingers lovingly tracing a line from my temple to my cheeks. But the doubt of who possessed my body was still with him.
“Eric,” I mumbled. My lips were numb and unresponsive. I reached for the crimson cross and held it tightly.
He smiled and wrapped his hand around mine. “Can you stand?”
I nodded, suddenly feeling a flood of strength permeate my body. This wasn’t the scant power Kristine had allowed me the day before. I was in full control and sensed she was no longer with me.
A knock at the door startled us both.
“Annette? We’re waiting for you.”
Shocked, I looked at Eric. “I have to go on. How can I…? How will…?”
“You’ll be fine,” he said, his voice a deep whisper that was thick with emotion. “Don’t fear all the sensations you now feel. Use them. Bring them to the stage with you and remind the crowd who Annette is and what she’s capable of.”
“I’ll be right out,” I called out though I had no idea how I would manage. Eric’s hand clamped down tightly around mine, and I could feel the strength he wanted to transmit to me. His eyes filled with love and compassion, I looked at him through Kristine’s eyes, seeing him as she must have. But in that same moment of seeing the wealth of emotions on his face, I couldn’t help but wonder if it was all for me. How could I compete with the alluring sensuality Kristine exuded so effortlessly? I suddenly felt so naïve and childishly innocent. What did I have to offer a man? A man who’d known the depth of passion with a woman like Kristine?
I stood, shaking off my uncertainties and shifting my concentration to the night’s performance.
“Show them that Annette is truly back,” Eric said with a smile.
It didn’t take long for me to become completely enveloped in the role of Adelle. The crowd welcomed me, the music lifted me and the words that came from my lips took on a whole new meaning.
I lived them through my brief experience with Kristine. The pain and heartache, the treachery and betrayal, the murderous revenge. It all made so much sense now, too much. When Theo, playing the role of my beloved Emile, sang to me of his undying love and eternal gratitude for all Adelle had brought to his life, I saw Eric and Kristine.
My, how he must have loved her to have immortalized his passion in an opera that would live on and on. As I looked into Theo’s eyes, I felt Kristine inside me, not as she had possessed me, but the remnants of her spirit. The hatred and violence. The unhappiness that had rendered her so bitter and bloodthirsty.
Though their affair ended badly, Eric’s passion for Kristine remained, strong and unceasing, transcending death.
The last note of the last song had not made it to the furthest balcony that the crowd got to their feet in elated applause. I glimpsed several tissues being blotted to the corners of the female patron’s eyes and a few men blinking away unshed tears.
Overcome with my own emotions, I stood and took in the adoration of my public. The applause seemed to go on forever and I knew that I had profoundly touched them.
Chapter 9
Eric
Annette’s performance was truly something to behold. She’d surpassed my expectations and had brought a whole new depth and power to the role of Adelle. The public’s reception of her performance made the evening all the more fulfilling.
Pushing through the throngs of admirers who’d already begun to crowd the back halls, I eagerly sought the star of the night. But my approach was halted when I saw Aaron at her side. Professional, if not pompous, he held a possessive gaze on Annette.
Over the many words of congratulations, encouragement and praise, Aaron gazed at me, his eyes instantly divulging his recognition, though of whom, he didn’t seem certain.
Our eyes remained locked together, sizing each other up, analyzing our opponent. As well we were; each vying so stridently for Annette’s affection. If the crowd noticed the animosity that traveled across the room between us, they didn’t let on, but remained enamored with their goddess Annette.
His eyes told of the search his mind was conducting. Was my face familiar to him? Was he aware of the rivalry between his ancestor and I? The proud stance he maintained told of his assured victory. His claim of Annette was strong, for he held her career in his hands. But his hands betrayed him, repeatedly fisting and flexing as he no doubt knew I was a worthy adversary.
He turned his attention to the crowd, speaking with confidence and authority. Annette smiled, signed autographs and posed for pretty pictures with her fans, occasionally glancing up at me.
Though she smiled, a nervous twitch on the corner of her lips indicated her unease. Was I the source of her discomfort? Could my presence be the cause of the tight fidgeting of her fingers?
“When we last saw you, there was talk of a budding romance,” a columnist shouted out. “Is the impresario still enamored with his starlet?”
Aaron chuckled and gazed lovingly at Annette. In a gesture of proprietorship, he wrapped his arm around her and pulled her close, drawing a sweet smile from Annette.
The image they portrayed was captured by a dozen cameras as the crowd became enraptured by the blossoming romance. But I was struck by the sight, immediately remembering the sight of Annette in Aaron’s arms only hours earlier. My gut tightened and my jaw clenched.
Punching a hole through the wall wouldn’t do this time. It was his face I wanted to pummel. The rage, the anger and the need to see his blood soon painted over the scene with a haze of black and death. Voices around me became a distant buzz and all I could see were Annette’s eyes as she gazed lovingly at the man I loathed.
The crowd began to slowly ebb away, leaving only the most ardent fan and hangers-on.
Would they leave together? As was customary, Aaron would take Annette out to dinner, they would share intimate hours together and he would do everything within his power to win her love and admiration.
My mind raced as I thought of my own plans to bring her home and treat her as my princess.
“I must leave you, darling,” Aaron said. “Though it pains me to do so, I have a pressing engagement I simply cannot avoid. Do forgive me.”
“Of course I do, Aaron.” Annette’s eyes showed only the slightest signs of relief. “My return to the stage has left me completely exhausted and I fear I wouldn’t have been very good company. I’ll no doubt be early to bed.”
With his hands clamped over Annette’s, he leaned down to give her a professional peck on the cheek. “Tomorrow, however, I’m all yours.”
He left her, his eyes victorious as he walked by and gazed at me with disdain.
With the last of the hangers-on being escorted out, I approached Annette.
“Eric, I’m so happy you came by.” Sti
ll on her whirlwind of publicity, she maintained her professional tone.
“You knew I’d stay, didn’t you?”
Her smile warmed and her eyes relaxed as she shook off the opera diva and reconnected with the Annette I knew and loved. “You’re a mysterious man, Eric. You disappear without warning and appear when I least expect you.”
“Are you too exhausted to come have dinner? I’ve something special planned.”
Her eyes bore through mine, questioning, wanting and unsure. For a brief moment her lips parted and I felt her desire to say something, but she simply smiled and shook her head.
“Abner has prepared a special feast in honor of your return.”
“I’m never too exhausted to be with you.”
Our journey through the gloomy tunnels was silent and I felt the weight of her thoughts. Though she was right by my side, she seemed distant and lost in the depths of her doubts.
Abner had indeed prepared a feast worthy of royalty. The dining room glowed under the shimmer of a hundred candles while the air greeted us with the tempting scents of the meal he’d planned.
“This is all exquisite, Eric,” Annette said, setting down her fork and dabbing her napkin to the corners of her lips. Her plate was empty and her wine glass dry.
“I’ll let Abner know you appreciate his culinary talent.”
Fatigue showed in her eyes that were narrow and heavy.
I led her into the bedchamber. “These past days have been quite demanding.”
She sighed. “These past weeks. I’ve never been so busy, so lacking in free time as I have been since coming to New York. I knew it was the city that never sleeps, I just didn’t realize to what I extent I wouldn’t sleep.” She smiled and seemed pleased with her new life in the big city.
