Page 100 of Our Strange Duet

Raoul had his arms outstretched wide. Was he keeping Erik away or trying to hold me back? “You have no claim on her. Leave her, leave us, now! Christine, we’re going.”

Erik scoffed, and a torrent of dark, ugly laughter burst from him. “Such spirited words. Are you so certain the lady wishes to depart?”

I wanted to tell them both to stop, wanted to shout and scream. I’d come here seeking answers. I’d wanted to sit beside my father’s grave and pour out my heart, and why couldn’t either of them understand that? Why had Erik followed me here? Why was Raoul interrupting?

Realization poked at me, as timid as a newborn fawn on trembling legs. Erik had followed me. Erik, who had been behind the notes, the coercions, the falling chandelier. Erik, who might have had a hand in Joseph Buquet’s death. He’d followed me to lure me back to him. He’d used his voice as a weapon, coaxing me into forgetting the bad so that only the good remained.

And Raoul…

Raoul was here, saving me.

He’d known, he’d somehow guessed my intentions, and he was here now, risking himself, for me.

I grabbed his arm and pressed my face to the curve of his shoulder blade. “Take me away from here,” I said into his ear, feeling faint. Whatever spell Erik had woven over me had not gone away easily. My mind still moved slowly, trapped in the fantasies the Angel had spun.

But no more. My thoughts were now entirely mine. My impulses were of my own volition.

As if sensing the tide had turned, Erik threw back the folds of his cloak, revealing a familiar-looking walking stick capped with a silver skull. It was one of his tinkerings, as dangerously deceptive as any of the automatons.

“Run!” I cried, pulling at Raoul.

But he only took a small step back as a fireball—as bright and burning as a comet—shot forth from the skull, aimed directly at us. It hit the ground at our feet, bursting into a shower of sparks. They landed on my cloak, singeing the wool fabric, and I hurried to stamp them out.

“What trickery is this?” Raoul hissed, then raised his voice, hurling words at our adversary in lieu of ammunition. “Such violence, such deception. You know that’s the only way you’ll ever hope to have her!”

Erik lunged off the monument, landing in front of the tomb with all the force of a meteor. More fire was thrown our way. It was only because of the damp that the ground was unharmed. Had this been the heat of summer, the entire cemetery would have gone up in a blazing inferno.

“Stay back,” Raoul warned. “Christine, get to the horse. Run!”

“Come with me,” I pleaded, fearing he meant to stay and fight. I couldn’t tell if he had any weapons under his coat, but I knew, even if he carried an entire arsenal, swords and daggers would be no match for Erik and his cunning inventions.

“I’m here, I’m right here, Vicomte,” Erik said, brandishing the cane. “Do your worst!”

Reacting with only fevered adrenaline, Raoul swiped at him, leaving a sudden gap between us. Erik easily avoided the blow, darting toward me before whirling back and shooting more fire at Raoul.

One bolt struck high on his chest, and he winced, clutching his shoulder.

“Come on, come on, monsieur!” Erik taunted, taking little steps toward me to spur on Raoul.

With a cry, he lunged toward him again. Erik lashed out, striking his arm before twirling round to smash the stick across his back. Raoul staggered to the gravel as Erik laughed.

“No!” I cried, and raced to them.

I ducked between the two men, just as Erik lifted the cane high above his head. His eyes flashed, and I was struck dumb by the murderous intent within them.

I wasn’t stupid. I knew Erik had harmed others. There was the carnival barker, when he was only a boy. The people beneath the chandelier. And no one had ever wholly explained how Joseph Buquet, a master flyman, had wound up so gravely twisted in his own ropes.

But…

All of those acts, those terrible, vile acts, had served a perverse purpose. I could almost see his twisted reasoning, see how he’d believe that such wicked means were justified to secure his freedom, to achieve his end.

I did not condone any of it, though I could understand how he would.

But this…

There was no reason for this. Harming Raoul wouldn’t further any of Erik’s causes. It wouldn’t make me sing. It wouldn’t make me love him. It only served to show how far he’d go to win what he thought rightfully his.

Me.