She arrived on the appointed night, violin in hand, and made her way to center stage for her first solo. Erik sat in his usual seat in the front row, placed both his elbows on the armrest, and brought his hands underneath his chin. He studied her body language betraying her nerves, and chuckled at the scowl upon her face.
Désirée looked at the music, placed the violin under her chin, and began playing the score. For the first time, after months of tedious lessons, she played a nearly flawless violin piece. Her performance had been raw and elementary, to say the least, but his ears did not cringed over out-of-tune sounds. When she finished, he jumped to his feet and applauded.
“Well done! Bravo!” He took two steps at a time up to the stage platform, clearly excited over the result, and approached her with a contented grin. “You have been practicing, Désirée, and I am extremely pleased with your progress. There is still much to learn, but it is a start. I’m proud of you.” He wanted to embrace her to show his pleasure but refrained.
She reacted to his praise with a broad smile and a sigh of relief. “I had such trepidation,” she admitted. “I’m so glad you’re happy with me, Erik.”
He removed the violin and bow from her hand and set it on the chair. “I promised myself that if you did well tonight, I would reward you with something special.”
“Reward me?” she asked, her blue eyes sparkling with excitement over the prospect.
“Yes, come with me. I wish to show you something that I enjoy immensely.” He reached out his hand toward Désirée and waited for her to grasp it in return. The innocent touch had been his first since the night in the alley, and the warmth of her palm flowed through his body like a drug. He cleared his throat and decided to risk everything.
“Where are we going?”
“To my favorite place in the entire opera house.”
He led the way down the hall, glancing at her curious gaze, until they reached a entryway that opened to a flight of stairs. She followed behind, and when they reached the top, Erik flung open the door. He escorted her outside to the lower roof. The crisp night air greeted his nostrils, and he inhaled deeply.
“Perfect,” he announced. They made their way to the front of the building and peered over the edge. Every star in the universe twinkled from the heavens above.
“Oh, Erik, it’s beautiful up here.” Désirée’s eyes darted about the scenery.
“It is, isn’t it? If you look to your right, you can see the harbor lights.” Erik enjoyed the view. The city streets were lit with gas lamps, illuminating the palace and church domes in all their glory. The night, crisp and clear, had no hint fog. “You know, Désirée, they say when opera house went up in flames that it could be seen for miles around. They were afraid it would catch Our Lady of Victories church ablaze and spread throughout the city.” The thought of the possible loss of the perfect architecture nearby made him shudder. “It could have been much worse for the city had the flames spread to neighboring buildings.”
“I didn’t know that,” she admitted.
Erik found the statement a bit odd, since Désirée had supposedly worked at the opera house and resided in the city before his arrival.
“I would have thought you’d read it in the news,” he commented.
She looked at him with a strained look upon her face. “Perhaps I did,” she replied, embarrassed. “I must have forgotten.”
Erik dismissed the oversight and turned around to look at the city. “I must confess, I’ve spent many years of my life living under ground. When I discovered the beauty of the roof at nighttime, I started coming here often. The architecture of this city is fascinating. I only wish...”
Erik’s voice trailed off stopping short of revealing a private thought.
“Wished what, Erik?”
Désirée’s soft voice, filled with a kindness, broke down the protective barrier concealing his personal thoughts.
“I often wish that I could be like other men and walk the streets freely in the light of day. You already know that I walk at night. Almost every night,” he admitted, his eyes staring at the buildings filling the horizon. “It’s too dangerous to reveal myself in the light. I’m a freak in a mask.”
“Dangerous?”
Désirée stepped closer to his side and tilted her head as she looked into his eyes. Erik wondered how much she knew of his past, which they never discussed. He had purposely avoided delving into her own personal affairs, should she press him in return with questions.
“I think you know what I mean,” he told her, lifting his hand to the side of her face. His fingertips touched her cheek, grazing her soft skin in admiration. He had opened the door of his desires and stood upon a precipice of possible ecstasy once again.
Désirée responded in a sultry whisper encouraging him further. “I’m not afraid of you any longer.”
Erik’s ears heard her intoxicating confession, and in response he inched closer until his body pressed against her frame. The night air, the stars, and the location had set the atmosphere to perfection, tempting him to take advantage of a willing woman in a private moment.
She should be afraid, he thought to himself. She doesn’t know the monster that dwells in my soul. The horrors I am capable of inflicting upon others with the very hands that touch her now.
As his finger continued to trace along her jaw line, it found its final destination at the corner of her lower lip. He licked his own while running his finger across the plump flesh of Désirée’s mouth. When he lifted his eyes and looked into her blue pools that called him to take what he wanted, he lowered his mouth upon her lips that were parted and waiting. His flesh melted into her moistness.
Once again, the sensation caused a deep, guttural moan to escape his throat. Désirée responded by encircling her arms around his neck and molding her curves into his body. Erik slipped his hand around the back of her head and drew her into him, as he thrust his tongue inside once again to search out the sweet taste. She moaned, and he responded.
Désirée’s body weakened his arms. His hands began to grope her breasts and around her petite waist, before sliding roughly down the side of her hips. She did not protest his movements, but began responding with her own hands ardently rubbing across his back.
Erik wanted to feel her flesh. He had to feel what lay underneath, what he had never been allowed to touch. His hand reached down and began clawing at the fabric of her dress until his palm filled with the cloth of her skirt. He roughly pulled it up and out of the way and started to slide his hand up her inner thigh to its ultimate destination. Désirée recoiled and started pounding her fists on his chest in return.
“No, don’t!”
She screamed and fought against his advances. Erik recoiled over her sudden refusal to let him experience the treasure of her womanhood. Angry, he pulled away from her lips, dropped his hand from underneath her dress, and stepped back, leaving her body to tremble.
“You act as if you want me,” he growled eying her up and down in disgust. “Why torture me so?”
“I can’t,” she screamed in anger. “I can’t…I won’t!”
“Won’t what?” he hissed. “Let me take you after you tease?” He stepped toward her and postured over her face. His eyes blazed in anger as he throbbed unfulfilled and rejected.
“You’ll never understand!” she yelled.
Désirée placed both her hands on his chest and thrust him away from her body. Her rash action threw him into a rage, and Erik lifted his hand to backhand her for her impertinence. Désirée flinched and turned her face away, reacting to the blow she thought would land upon her cheek. Abruptly, his hand stopped short of hitting her.
“Damn you!” He seized her by the wrist and pulled her back inside while she struggled to escape his grasp. As they traversed the stairs downward, Erik continued to drag her harshly cursing under this breath, until they arrived at her quarters.
“Erik, please, you’re hurting me,” she protested, hot tears streamed down her f
ace.
He opened the door and flung her inside. “You say you want my love!” he sneered. “But you deny me!”
“Erik, please,” she sobbed. “I want you to love me, but there is so much you do not know!”
“Then tell me, my petite, what it is I should know about you? You are a mystery to me.”
“And you to me!” she spat back at him. Désirée ran away and cowered in the corner of her room. “I hate you! I hate you!”
Erik froze in place dumfounded over her words and reaction. Did she think he would rape her? He retreated in anger and slammed her door hard before retreating to his quarters. He pushed the mechanism and disappeared inside. A chair in his way felt his booted heel, as he kicked it across the room sending it into the wall. She probably heard it on the other side, but he did not give a damn.
He wanted her flesh. He loved her! Why would she not give him what he wanted? She teased and tempted him relentlessly, playing a cruel game with his emotions and desires that burned in his loins. Désirée Martin would be his undoing one way or the other.
Erik eyed the crystal decanter off to the side and headed toward the alcohol to calm his fury. He poured a full glass and spilled it down his gullet in quick gulps. The glass emptied, and he poured another. Once again, he opened his mouth wide and sent the alcohol burning down his throat. When he finished the second glass, he felt a fire rush through his veins. Without warning, his head began to spin, his vision blurred, and everything in his room grew dark.
In a matter of seconds, all had gone terribly wrong. Erik thought it had to be a stroke or heart attack. Before he could decide which one, he staggered and lost his ability to stand. The feeling in his limbs drained away leaving him numb. He grabbed the side table and knocked over the crystal decanter and silver tray. It fell and crashed at his feet.
His body collapsed with a loud thud, hitting the floor and falling onto the broken glass. He moaned in pain, and felt an insidious drug course through his body like fire, erasing his conscious mind and eating away his strength. Someone had poisoned him. Barely conscious, he called for help. Unable to raise his voice, the name of Désirée fell from his numb lips in a whisper before he sank into a bottomless pit of darkness.
Chapter Twenty-Four
Désirée’s heart pounded, and her hands trembled uncontrollably. Why did everything have to happen tonight? She had done despicable things and felt horrible. Erik had tried once more to take her, and she wanted to slap him and embrace him all at the same time.
Her mother’s voice kept telling her not to love him, but she did love him and her mother too. She felt torn over what to do and incapable of making a decision. Her mother used the power of guilt and obligation to control her every move, because she had stayed by her through the pain of torment and loss. Désirée owed her everything.
The day had finally arrived, and their plot fell into place. Erik had foolishly placed her in a room next to his own quarters; in his weakness, he had put himself within their reach.
She had returned from her mother’s that night intent on doing her part. Désirée spent time listening at the wall to learn Erik’s habits. If she leaned her ear against the wood, she could hear the panel to his main doorway slide back and forth. When he came and went, she either heard noises on the other side or silence. She noted the times in the evening when he would leave for his walks and when he would return, until she had his schedule down pat. He seemed to be a creature of habit, doing things at the same intervals every day. It made it easier for Désirée to plot his whereabouts.
One night when he left, she had fiddled with the panel in her room relentlessly. Her hands traveled up and down the wall pushing and pulling at the trim trying to engage it to open. At last, she sensed something odd in one area, a slight protrusion that did not feel quite right. She placed pressure against it, and the panel of her wall slid back. Her heart stopped as she found herself exposed and standing at the threshold of Erik’s parlor. She walked inside and quickly looked around noticing a decanter of cognac sitting on a tray. The perfect plan unfolded.
She had returned to her quarters, engaged the panel, and it shut. Excited she had breached the wall, she knew they had to move quickly after her discovery. Her mother planned everything down to the very last detail. Tonight would be the night when it would unfurl to perfection. She hoped nothing would go wrong.
Désirée had waited for Erik to leave for their lessons, and before she met him in the auditorium, she slipped into his quarters. As fast as her feet could carry her across the room, she pulled the stopper from the decanter, unscrewed the vial cap, and poured the entire contents into the alcohol. When the deed was over, she replaced the stopper, returned to her room, and closed the panel. After calming down, she met him for her recital.
Everything stood ready, but he surprised her by taking her to the roof. Désirée hadn’t counted on a starlit sky and romance to ignite once again. He kissed her, and she melted her body into his. As his hands began to search out her flesh, Désirée thought she would go mad with passion. She wanted him, until his hand lifted her skirt and began its journey up her inner thigh. In another hour, her mother would be at the door. She could not let him; she wanted to, but could not! Instead, she spurned him with beating fists and denial.
It threw him into a rage. He had dragged her downstairs, flung her inside her room, and stormed off to his. She leaned her ear against the wall, heard a loud bang, and a few minutes later everything grew silent. It did not take long before the sound of crashing crystal met her ears, and she heard the loud thump of his body hit the floor. She closed her eyes, and whispered, “I’m sorry, Erik.”
She left her room and made her way to the stage door to meet her co-conspirator. “Mother,” she greeted, nervously letting her inside.
“Is everything set?”
“I think so. He retreated an hour ago, and I heard him fall.”
“He’s made no further noise?”
“No, Mama, I’ve heard nothing. I’m frightened.”
“Don’t be,” she reassured her. “We are just going to have a long talk with the drugged monster. Take me to him.”
Désirée carefully stalked the halls ahead of her mother, making sure everything was clear. She led her to her private room and then shut the door and locked it behind them. Her mother glanced about.
“Where is it?”
“Over here,” she answered, reaching her hand to the panel.
“What if he’s still conscious, Mother, he’ll kill us for sure!”
“I have a backup plan. Don’t worry. We will make our demands when he is conscious, but incapacitated. The drug has paralyzed him to some extent but only temporarily. He will listen. Just do everything I tell you.” Her mother grabbed her hard by the shoulder to make the point. “Do you understand? Our lives could depend upon it.”
“Yes, Mama, I will do as you say.”
Her hand trembled as she slowly pushed against the mechanism, and the panel slid back, opening the door into Erik’s domain. Désirée eyes darted around the room searching for signs of Erik, and then her heart stopped when she saw his lifeless form on the floor.
“My God!” She ran over to his prostrate body to check for signs of life.
“Did you empty the vial in the decanter of alcohol like I instructed?” Her mother sauntered over to his side and peered over his lifeless body with smug satisfaction.
“Yes.”
“Good,” she replied, eying him closely. “It was probably more volatile since it was mixed with alcohol. By the looks of it, he must have drunk more than one glass. I’m not surprised he’s out cold.”
Sybelle wandered around the room looking at his quarters, picking up books, sheet music, and nosing around his world. Désirée worried over how pale Erik appeared.
“Don’t worry,” her mother reassured her again. “As it starts to dissipate from his system, he will regain consciousness, and we can make our demands.”
A few minutes passed, and D
ésirée heard Erik moan. She glanced over at her mother, who continued to handle his things with curiosity. Her actions irritated Désirée.
“Mother, what are you doing?”
“Enjoying the Ghost’s room,” she replied, spitting out his nickname. “Aren’t you curious what a lunatic like him finds pleasure in, besides you?”
“Mother, please.”
“Please what?” She swung around, looking at his body sprawled across the hard floor. She slowly walked to his side, picked up her skirt, and kicked him full force in his ribs with the pointed toe of her shoe. Erik moaned, and Désirée gasped.
“Mama, please don’t!”
“He’s an animal!” she screamed, kicking him again.
Désirée watched her mother in shocked silence. Her face had twisted into an evil demon, with glaring eyes and a foul mouth that cursed obscenities at Erik.
The bitterness had always been there, but it had turned frightful. Désirée wanted to forget their plan. It had already gone too far. It would not change the past or heal her future. She felt as doomed as Erik, who they would soon blackmail to pay for her suffering.
She watched Erik groan and struggle for consciousness. Désirée’s heart felt like a lead weight in her chest. Her breathing labored from remorse. She witnessed his hand twitch and saw him fight against the influence of the drug.
It would not be long before Erik knew everything. The truth would be revealed, their demands made, and she would be gone from his life forever. The thought brought profound sadness to her heart. She did not want to leave him. She did not hate him. Theresa Désirée Hessier loved the man beneath the mask.
* * *
Erik’s eyes fluttered open revealing a blurred world. His body felt weak and numb. Muffled voices filled his hearing, but at first he couldn’t recognize those that stood near him. His half-closed eyelids saw the hem of a woman’s dress, and he realized it belonged to Désirée. Erik’s eyes lifted to the person standing in front of her, and his mouth gaped open when he beheld Sybelle Renard.
The Phantom of Valletta Page 19