by Laura DeLuca
Rebecca was a little surprised by the statement. Had she chosen Tom over Justyn? She hadn’t really considered that she had a choice. Tom had asked her to the dance and she had said yes. She couldn’t even imagine Justyn attending something as commonplace as a high school dance. Besides, Tom was the man she had always wanted.
“Well, I think it was Wendy,” Carmen argued. “She’s still really pissed that she didn’t get the lead in the play.”
Rebecca shook out her raincoat before hanging it up in her locker. “No matter who did it, I guess I shouldn’t let it get to me so much. It’s just a joke, right? It’s not like anyone’s really going to hurt me.”
“Why would anyone want to hurt you?” Justyn was suddenly behind them, as silent in his movements as Rebecca was squeaky in her soggy sneakers.
“Someone’s been leaving Becca nasty notes and calling her and making threats,” Debbie said with narrowed eyes. “Do you know anything about it?”
Justyn looked surprised, and then concerned, but Rebecca was aware of his extraordinary acting ability. He could turn emotions off and on at will when he wanted to. The response wasn’t enough to eliminate him from the suspect list. He really was the most obvious choice. He was the only one, besides Rebecca herself, who knew the play inside and out. Yet, she just couldn’t imagine him wanting to scare her. She knew his black clothes and unusual style made her friends nervous, but she saw something in him that went deeper than his fashion sense. She didn’t think he would hurt her. But since when was she the best judge of character? There was a time that she thought Wendy was really nice.
“Do you think it’s connected to the curtain falling down?” Justyn asked. “I overheard the stagehands saying the curtain rod had been tampered with.”
“Tampered with? How?” Carmen asked.
Justyn shrugged. “I don’t know exactly.”
Rebecca gasped. Despite the strange warning from Mr. Russ, she had never seriously considered that someone might have sent the curtain crashing down on purpose. Miss King had made it sound like it had been threatening to crumple for years. It made the whole situation seem much more sinister. Was the person doing these things really dangerous? The thought made Rebecca feel a little dizzy. She reached out a hand to steady herself, intending to grab her locker, but found that it was Justyn’s arm she caught hold of instead.
“Are you all right, Becca?”
His melodious, almost unnatural voice made things even shakier. Realizing that she was making a complete fool of herself, Rebecca took a deep breath and shook her head.
“I’m fine.” She forced a small laugh. “This Christine is a lot tougher than she looks. I’m not going to go around fainting whenever something out of the ordinary happens.”
She was tough? Boy, was that a blatant lie.
“And this phantom isn’t really such a bad guy.” Justyn smiled and let go of her arm, just as the overhead bells started ringing. “Well, if you ever do decide to faint, Becca, I’d be more than happy to sweep you up and carry you away.”
“Don’t count on it.”
Rebecca tried to sound strong and full of feminist pride, but that smoldering look in his eyes made her wonder if she wouldn’t hit the ground at that very moment. And the light-headedness had nothing to do with her mysterious stalker. It was because once again Lord Justyn had her reeling with strange and unaccustomed emotions.
“Come on, Becca, we’re going to be late,” Debbie told her.
She was still giving Justyn dirty looks, and she didn’t even give them a chance to say goodbye before forcefully pulling her into homeroom. But Rebecca felt his eyes on her until the moment that she disappeared behind the doors, and even then she wondered if he had some kind of x-ray vision because she swore she could still feel his presence all around her. She thought about him all day as she flitted from one class to another in a kind of half daze. If nothing else, it made the dull, rainy day go by a little faster, and before long she found herself back in the auditorium preparing for rehearsal.
The first scenes went well, with no curtains crashing down. There were no accidents of any kind. Even the constant rumbles of thunder and the heavy rain pounding against the windows didn’t disturb the actors. Rebecca was starting to feel a little more comfortable on the stage, and her movements were a lot less rigid. When it came time for the scene where Christine meets the phantom for the first time, Miss King handed Justyn the signature white mask that was the opera ghost’s calling card, and told them they needed to start working on the drama of the unmasking.
Justyn slipped on the mask, and Rebecca had to catch her breath. His standard Gothic wardrobe only enhanced the effect. The black t-shirt with the grinning white skull emblazoned across the front would have been a fashion must for any self-respecting, twenty-first century phantom. And Justyn was a modern day phantom, a modern day Erik—a tortured musical genius if ever there was one.
The scene began and Justyn gently led Rebecca across the stage. The orchestra flared to life, with pipe organ blaring, and drums thumping. The constant booming thunder was just another instrument that blended perfectly with the intensity of the organ. She sang the famous, mystical duet with him, for him, and she realized that she was every bit as much a modern day Christine, drawn to the mysterious darkness and seduction of an unknown stranger who sang like an angel.
“He came to me, an angel in the night.
His voice is like a siren’s call.
Now I follow him though I know it’s not right.
His commands cannot be denied at all.”
The stage wasn’t decorated yet. They had no candles or swirling mists, no underwater stream or flashy gondola. But even if there were, Rebecca wouldn’t have seen them. She saw only Justyn’s face and heard only the music. His eyes held her transfixed, and with those eyes he weaved a labyrinth every bit as enchanting as the underground fortress of the phantom. And Rebecca wasn’t sure that she would ever be able to climb back up to the surface that was reality.
She couldn’t deny any longer that she was attracted to him. Her whole body was throbbing with the force of that attraction. Yet, somewhere in the back of her mind, there were still thoughts of Tom waiting for her in the real world. More than ever, she was like Christine. Torn between the handsome blond bearer of light and the dark lord of the night. In her heart, Rebecca had always believed Christine truly loved Erik, but was too weak to overcome her fear of his dark side. Looking at Justyn’s masked face, she had to wonder if she was letting fear hold her back from what she really wanted as well.
The duet ended and gracefully transcended into the slower, more passionate love ballad which Justyn sang solo. His voice was like a vocal massage, a gentle resonating whisper. Each word touched her, stroked her, embraced her, until her knees quivered and her breath caught in her throat. She had heard him sing the song before, more than once, but not since that first audition did his voice overwhelm her so completely.
“The mysteries of music have been revealed to you.
You will never be free no matter what you may do.
You’ve journeyed with me to the world of the unknown.
This night I have claimed your soul as my own.”
Now it was not just his words but also his hands that embraced her. Those gentle hands explored her body, sliding along her waist, up her arms, over her neck. He took her hand and lifted it against his cheek. The ceaseless throb in her body turned to an almost unbearable ache, and she longed to feel his touch in less appropriate places.
Rebecca held her breath and closed her eyes. His lips moved so close to the nape of her neck that it made goose bumps appear up and down her arms. Lips that were so close to her flesh, but never quite touched it. One hand toyed with the ends of her long hair, while the other glided along her waist, squeezing her against him. She waited, yearned for more.
“You’re supposed to faint now,” he whispered in her ear. His voice was more than a little amused.
Rebecca immediately snapped
back to reality. She almost argued with him again that she wasn’t the fainting type. But then she remembered that it was part of the scene.
“Oh yeah. Right.”
She closed her eyes and allowed her body to go limp and crumple into his waiting arms. She did her best to keep her body relaxed so she wouldn’t be too heavy for him. But it was unnecessary because he lifted her effortlessly. She was so close to him that she could smell the scent of his cologne, some mixture of patchouli and sandalwood that was natural but masculine and made her feel even more lightheaded and giddy. He gently placed her down on the dingy, old cot that they were using until the props were complete. She could have been in a bed lined with designer silk sheets, and the moment wouldn’t have been any more breathtaking when he leaned over her.
Above them, the thunder crackled so loudly that they could hear it clearly over the stilling music of the orchestra. Justyn stroked her cheek as he sang the last lines of the sonnet.
“It is you alone who inspires me to sing.
Take my hand and watch the symphony take wing.”
Once again his heavy breath teased her, tortured her, and left her longing for more. Though her eyes were still closed, she was sure his lips lingered just above hers. She was certain he would kiss her, and was even more certain that she wanted him to. But before she learned for a fact what his intentions might be, the auditorium erupted into terrified screams.
Chapter Eight
Rebecca snapped her eyes open to see what all the shouting was about. At least she thought she did. But even though she swore her eyes were wide open, she still couldn’t see anything. The entire auditorium had been plunged into total darkness. Only a few scattered corners were lit by flashing battery powered emergency lights.
Another clap of thunder rattled the sky, and the scared screams settled into startled gasps. As the silence grew heavier in the auditorium, she could hear the rain pounding against the windows and the wind howling through the trees. And even though she couldn’t see it, she was sure lighting was flashing dangerously beyond the school walls.
“Everyone stay calm!” Miss King called through the darkness, sounding anything but calm herself. “It’s just the storm. I’m sure the electric will only be out for a few minutes. Just stay where you are until the lights come back on. I don’t need anyone falling off the stage and breaking their necks.”
Rebecca was still lying back on the mangy cot that smelled of stale mothballs. Looming above her, all she could see was the faint outline of the white mask of the phantom, which was still covering Justyn’s face. The magic connection they had briefly shared had broken the minute the music ceased to play, and Rebecca had to wonder if it had ever been more than just her imagination. With a sigh of exasperation, she sat up on the cot.
The silence lasted longer than she was comfortable with and Rebecca felt the need to break it. “Spooky, huh?”
She felt the weight shift on the cot as Justyn took a seat beside her. “Not really. I like the dark.”
Rebecca laughed lightly. “Why doesn’t that surprise me?”
Her eyes were starting to adjust to the dim light, and she was able to see the outline of her companion. Even in the dark room, his silver necklace clearly glittered around his neck. It was the same one he had been wearing in the gym, a star in a circle. It made her curious.
“Can I ask you a question?”
He shrugged. “It’s not like I have anything better to do at the moment.”
“I don’t want to offend you.”
She knew he smiled because she saw the white glint of his teeth through the darkness. “I’m not easily offended.”
“Your necklace.” Rebecca surprised herself with her own courage when she reached out to touch it. “Does it mean something to you? Or is it only for shock value?” He was quiet for a minute and that made her nervous. “I did offend you, didn’t I?”
He laughed out loud. “Not at all. You just took me by surprise, that’s all. I wish more people would ask instead of making presumptions. It’s a pentacle. Each corner represents one of the elements.” As he explained, he lifted her hand and guided her fingers around the points of the star. “Air, fire, water, and earth. And the center is spirit. I wear it for protection.”
Only after he let her hand go was she able to speak. And even then she had to clear her throat. “Protection from what?”
“That’s two questions. It’s my turn to ask you one now.”
She nodded, even though he probably couldn’t see her. “Okay, that sounds fair. What’s your question?”
“Would you give me the pleasure of escorting you to the Halloween dance?”
Rebecca was surprised at first, and even a little excited. But then she remembered she had already promised to go to the dance with Tom. She wanted to go to the dance with Tom. She had been waiting all her life to go out with Tom. But she still regretted the answer she had to give Justyn and she found that she was glad for the darkness. He couldn’t read the expression on her face, any more than she would have to see the disappointment on his.
“I . . . can’t,” she told him. “I already told someone else I would go with them.”
He sighed, but didn’t really sound surprised. “You know, if you continue to turn me down when I ask you out, eventually I might stop asking.”
“Really?”
“Yes, but it will take a while. I’m extremely stubborn when there’s something I want.”
Justyn was staring at her. Rebecca was extremely aware of his presence beside her. She could feel the warmth radiating from his skin, and she could smell his earthy cologne. He was so close, but not quite touching her. Yet, even though they weren’t making physical contact, she could still feel an energy seeping from him—that same electric current that shocked her every time he touched her. It was driving her insane. And the most annoying part of it was that he knew he was having this effect on her. She could hear the amusement mingled with the seduction in his voice.
She swallowed hard. “And what is it, exactly, that you want from me, Justyn?”
“I want to know who beat me to the punch. Was it Tom?”
Rebecca wasn’t sure that was a safe topic, so she quickly changed the subject. “Oh, no. I answered your question. It’s my turn again.”
“You’re right. You’re right.”
“So.” Rebecca went back to the original line of questioning. “Protection from what?”
“From evil surfers who’re trying to steal the girl of my dreams.”
Now Rebecca knew her cheeks were scarlet and again she thanked a higher power for the temporary black out. “Be serious!”
“Okay, seriously.” He relented. “I’m Wiccan. This pentacle is to me what the cross is to a Christian.”
Rebecca felt her mouth fall open. “A Wiccan? Isn’t that sort of . . . sort of like a witch?”
“Not sort of. I am a witch.”
A very appropriate crack of thunder rumbled at that precise moment. In reality, Rebecca wasn’t really surprised. It seemed only fitting that the modern day phantom would have some kind of magical ties. Still, Rebecca found herself looking over her shoulder to make sure no one else was listening. Of course she couldn’t see anything anyway. But she did hear whispered voices all around her, and wondered who might be eavesdropping on their conversation.
“You’re a witch, huh? If I ever do go out with you, will you be picking me up on your broomstick?”
She didn’t need to see him to know that he had rolled his eyes. “Ha, ha. I’ve never heard that one before.” Sarcasm or not, he still gave an honest chuckle. “If you’re really curious, I could give you a book to read, just to explain what it’s all about. Wicca isn’t what you probably think it is. It’s a religion, and a way of life. A good way in my opinion. Our primary rule is, ‘If it harms none, do as you will.’”
“It’s really important to you, isn’t it?”
“It’s important to me that you understand who I am. I don’t want you to th
ink there’s any reason for you to be afraid of me.”
“I’m not afraid of you,” Rebecca told him, and was surprised that she meant it. Of all the crazy emotions he invoked in her, fear wasn’t one of them. “But sure, give me the book. I’m a bookworm. I’ll read anything.”
“Okay, I will.” Then he added. “It’s my turn again.”
Rebecca forgot that they were playing twenty questions, but she was a good sport. “Shoot.”
“What do you see in Tom?”
“He’s not that bad, you know.”
“He has the depth of a puddle.”
Rebecca thought about laughing, but it wasn’t really a joke. Then she thought about sticking up for Tom, but she couldn’t think of any good arguments in his defense. “He hasn’t been very nice to you, has he?”
She saw his shoulders shrug. It was getting easier to see in the dark as more and more time passed. “I’m used to being the outcast. It comes with the territory.”