Page 61 of Angel’s Flight (The Phantom Saga #4)

Coolaney

C hristine walked through the grass, morning dew gathering on her hem.

It was cold and misty, closer to autumn than to summer now.

Mist still lingered in the green gulleys between the hills, and the outskirts of Coolaney were so beautiful in the dawn light that it made her heart swell with sadness she couldn’t linger. She couldn’t stay.

At least she had slept, Christine told herself. At least she’d had one night in the old manor with Erik, held close in her phantom’s arms so she didn’t even think about what other ghosts lingered in the dark. She wished she had been able to linger there too.

The last place she wanted to be was trudging down this muddy path outside the village with Pauline.

“You’re right: this place barely qualifies as civilization,” Pauline quipped beside her, keeping her head high and her back straight as they made their way past an old farmhouse.

It was long abandoned, with a gaping hole in a roof made of mud and moss.

“I would have been doing the world a favor by clearing it out.”

“Your plan was cruel,” Christine stated, trying to keep her anger in check. None of this would work if she snapped on Pauline now.

“Yes. I can think of nothing worse than giving someone hope and dashing it away,” Pauline grumbled pointedly. Christine heard Erik sigh in annoyance behind them.

“This is an odd place to meet,” Christine declared as they came to the edge of a clearing. In it stood a large stone with others set around it at regular intervals. It was some ancient, sacred place.

“Well, some of us have a flair for the dramatic,” Pauline sighed. “Would you please get these off me now?”

Pauline raised her wrists. There were red marks where the cuffs had rubbed the skin raw after more than a day in them, and Christine almost felt guilty seeing them.

Almost. Pauline’s face looked worse, with the purple bruise and cut Christine had left there.

Her hair and clothes were a mess as well.

“How will you explain your current state?”

“I don’t want to give away the show,” Pauline answered with a smile as Christine removed her restraints. “So we are clear: if you don’t pay up after this is done, I will lead Bidaut and our employer straight back to your door. Or worse.”

“Understood,” Erik answered before Christine could. “But you don’t get to change the price.”

“Why would I, when you’ve made the deal so delicious?” Pauline gave Erik a grin that turned Christine’s stomach. She hated this, but it was the only choice they had.

“There’s nowhere to run out here,” Christine reminded the odious woman and was answered with only an eye roll.

Pauline strode to the center of the stone circle, rubbing her wrists and stretching as Erik and Christine took their place hidden in the trees to the side.

“Do you trust her?” Christine asked her beloved uneasily.

“At this point, yes,” Erik replied, but she could feel his tension. He was beside her, but she didn’t know if it was right to reach for him.

“What did you offer her?” Christine asked softly. “You came back last night having made some sort of deal and I didn’t press because I didn’t want to know then. You have to tell me now, though.”

“I don’t want to disappoint you if it doesn’t work,” Erik replied, hanging his head. He had reverted to one of his more typical masks: cream-colored, plain, and comfortingly familiar. His worry and pain were familiar too.

Christine couldn’t bear it any longer. She reached out and took his hands, their rough texture so familiar now. She still wanted to hold them forever. “Please. I need to know.”

“You primed the pump, making her feel sentimental and sad,” Erik began slowly.

“I want you to know that whatever you said to make her reconsider her life mattered, but she’s the sort of person who only wants to hurt others more when she’s reminded of her own pain.

Our Pauline isn’t kind like you. Not forgiving, or even very bright, but she is petty and vindictive, enough that I could make her an offer beyond money, though she wants that too.

I can give her the one thing she wants if she can’t have her fantasy of me. ”

“And what is that?” Christine wasn’t sure she liked where this was going.

“Her fantasy is part of it. She’s studied me, or whatever version of me she could piece together from the years.

She sees me as someone who can’t be tamed or contained by normal life.

” Erik squeezed Christine’s hands, his eyes upon the golden ring on her finger that made her his.

“I think that’s not entirely wrong. I leap into everything without thinking about what it means.

I leapt into this life with you not knowing what it would entail. ”

“We both did,” Christine countered, trying to sound hopeful.

“It’s against my nature to stay. To rest and retreat into a small, simple life. That’s how she sees me. Maybe better than I see myself.” Erik took a deep breath. “So that’s what I gave her as my punishment.”

“What?” Christine blinked in confusion as Erik’s golden eyes met hers.

“I offered her my suffering. My imprisonment in the ordinary,” Erik replied, soft and sincere. “I told her I would do the thing most abhorrent to me if that pain would satisfy her vendetta. I promised her I would give up running.”

Christine stifled a gasp, glancing to where Pauline stood idly in the glen, ignoring them and unable to hear what they said. No wonder she looked so pleased with herself.

“You promised her...”

“That I would stay here, in this pathetic shithole of a village, and allow myself to be forgotten. I promised to take on the punishment of trying to live in a world that hates me and that I despise in return.”

Christine didn’t hold back her tears. They flowed hot down her cheeks as her husband gripped her hands. “We’re staying? Because she thinks it’s a punishment for you?”

Erik smiled at the edge of his mask, sly and warm. “She is not aware of how much I can enjoy punishment when it’s for you.”

“You should have told me,” Christine whimpered as she pulled him into a fierce hug. She fit perfectly against him, his chin atop her head as he wrapped her in his arms. “I’ve been so worried.”

“I didn’t want something to go horribly wrong... Fuck.”

Christine pulled back to look at whatever Erik had seen, and her stomach plummeted. Bidaut had arrived, as Pauline had promised, but Shaya Motlagh was with him at gunpoint. “Fuck,” she whispered as well. “We have to—”

Erik held her back from rushing into the clearing. “Wait,” he hissed, gaze intent on the trio in the circle. “I want to see what she does.”

Christine shook, worry vibrating in her gut as Erik’s hand steadied her and they watched.

“You look like shit. What the hell happened to you?” Bidaut demanded of Pauline without ceremony.

“I ran into trouble.” She touched the vivid bruise on her cheek and looked sheepish. “I may have tried to negotiate with our target on my own.”

“You absolute idiot,” Bidaut growled. Shaya merely chuckled beside him, drawing Pauline’s attention.

“Is this who I think it is?” Pauline asked, looking Shaya over.

“He’s our leverage,” Bidaut snapped.

“Well, it’s useless now. Erik is gone,” Pauline said, and Christine held her breath. The woman was a skilled liar, but there was something in the way she said it that was too nervous.

Bidaut heard it too. “What do you mean he’s gone?”

“I found him. Tried to negotiate and failed.” Pauline indicated her injuries. Christine was only slightly annoyed to not receive proper credit for them. “I was lucky to escape alive, but I don’t know where he disappeared to. We should go back to Pomeroy and tell him it’s over.”

Bidaut stared at the woman, as did Shaya. Did they know she was lying? Would this ruse work? “That’s a pity,” Bidaut began slowly. “I was quite sure having leverage Erik cared about rather than manipulating some old man in a forgotten town might actually get us somewhere.”

“My plan was sound,” Pauline sneered.

“Your plan was useless, it seems.” Bidaut looked over at Shaya and sighed. “As are you. I guess if this is over, there’s no reason to keep you around.”

Shaya’s look of relief lasted only until Bidaut cocked his pistol and aimed it at Shaya’s temple.

“What are you doing?” Pauline gasped.

“Testing a theory. At least it won’t be hard to hide a body in wilderness like this—”

“Stop!” Erik yelled before Christine could do the same. They rushed together from the trees, stopping short when Bidaut aimed the revolver at them.

“Ah, there you are,” Bidaut smiled. “Right on time.”

“I did try,” Pauline muttered with a sigh to Christine. Erik stood tall at Christine’s side, angling himself between her and Bidaut’s weapon.

“How on earth did you get mixed up in this, Daroga?” Erik asked, casual and unbothered as ever.

“As soon as your second letter reached Armand, I knew that the people spying on me would be on their way to you. I was trying to intervene,” Shaya replied with the same nonchalance. “It was good to see Adèle. She was the initial target.”

“And you stepped in to be a hero,” Erik grumbled.

Shaya smiled wistfully. “Well, one must try when one can.”

Despite the danger, Christine found herself smiling at the man who had changed so much since she first met him.

“You consider this heroism?” Bidaut interjected.

“I consider it a chance to end this madness without further violence,” Shaya said, meeting Christine’s eyes and smiling sadly. “I’m glad to see you’re well.”

“For now,” Christine replied sadly.

“You think too highly of a violent man,” Bidaut said, visibly bored, and now focused on Erik. “You are cornered, Monsieur Gilbride. Do as I asked back in Geneva and let this be over. My employer may even be generous enough not to send authorities after you.”

Christine wanted to intervene, to say to hell with the money: they didn’t need it more than anyone’s life.