Page 62 of Angel’s Flight (The Phantom Saga #4)

“His employer is Sabine de Chagny,” Shaya said, quick as a gunshot and just as shocking. Christine exchanged a look of disbelief with Erik. “Though she goes by Sabine de Martiniac now.”

“What?” Christine asked, utterly stunned.

“Sabine doesn’t need the money,” Erik scoffed, unimpressed. Christine knew him, knew that the very mention of someone close to Raoul was guaranteed to turn him against any idea of surrender.

“Oh, she does,” Pauline interjected with a cruel smile. “Big brother Philippe wasted the whole fortune, leaving almost nothing for his siblings after his debts were called in. They could barely pay us without help.”

“Shut up,” Bidaut hissed at Pauline. She had revealed something interesting if Shaya’s pleased look was any indication. For Chistine’s part, it did nothing to comfort her.

“All the better to know that family suffers. I wouldn’t give them a sou,” Erik sneered. “Even if we had it.”

“Is this the game you’re going to play? Trying to trick me again?” Bidaut snarled back. “I won’t be had this time. If you don’t—”

“Erik,” Shaya cut in urgently. “ O hamleh est .”

Whatever Shaya had said made Erik’s eyes go wide. Christine looked between him and her husband, trying to understand what message had been delivered.

“ Mal baradram ?” Erik’s voice was unsteady in a way Christine had rarely heard.

“ Beleh .”

Erik stared at Shaya for a long moment, then Bidaut and Pauline. Finally, his eyes settled on Christine. “Trust me,” his voice whispered in her ear, directed by his ventriloquist skill so only she could hear.

“They’re up to something,” Pauline remarked. Christine wished Bidaut would slap her, but he only sent her a look.

“As I was saying,” Bidaut went on. “You will do as I asked in Geneva and—”

“And as I said, there is nothing left to give her,” Erik said, vehement. “Thanks to your colleague here.”

“What the hell is he talking about?” Bidaut demanded of Pauline, his anger finally showing through.

“She made a promise to the lord of this village. Well, knight, technically. Said she would buy all his lands and invest in their upkeep,” Erik explained, sounding more annoyed than urgent. Christine was beginning to understand.

“What does that have to do with your stolen legacy?” Bidaut sighed back.

“We felt beholden,” Christine answered, making sure to scowl at Pauline. “So we have fulfilled the deal.”

“Our dear Erik has not only set his fortune on fire for this pathetic hamlet, he swore to never leave this place,” Pauline added with clear relish. “That he’d rot and suffer here and never set foot on the continent again.”

Now that wasn’t a detail Erik had shared with Christine, and it was certainly troubling.

“And you believed him?” Bidaut asked, face bright with suspicion. “You didn’t think it was some ruse to hide the funds? This place can’t possibly be worth what he had.”

“We kept some,” Erik began cautiously. “Around a hundred thousand Francs, to sustain us.”

Bidaut gave a satisfied grin and raised the aim of his pistol. It made excitement surge through Christine, not from fear, but because she knew they had him. “A hundred thousand will be more than sufficient for Madame de Martiniac’s needs.”

“We still need to live,” Erik scoffed. Christine grabbed his arm, making a show of it as if she objected. “I will give her twenty if I can be done with you.”

“Fifty,” Bidaut countered, and Christine held her breath. “Final offer. Do it and our business is concluded and you can go on your way.”

“How do we know you won’t come after us again?” Christine asked, still terrified. “Or that you won’t reveal us?”

“Because if he does, I will kill him,” Erik said simply, darkness in his voice that would send a chill up the bravest spine. He advanced on Bidaut, unbothered by the gun aimed at his chest, and removed his mask. He was showing the man the face of his doom.

“Erik,” Shaya whispered, sounding as worried as Christine felt.

“I will kill him slowly if he ever comes back near me or my wife again,” Erik went on, and Bidaut gulped.

“And I will take a lesson from him too. Before I let him die, I will hurt him. I’ll find someone he loves – everyone he loves – and I will ruin them and leave them to rot.

I will destroy everything he has and not feel a shred of regret. ”

Christine wanted Erik to be lying. She wanted that awful threat to be part of the ruse, part of the desperate attempt to win their peace, but there was a dark corner of her heart that knew it was true.

She was wed to a man still capable of murder, but only if someone was foolish enough to threaten her.

It should have made her ashamed, or scared, yet all the knowledge gave her was a thrill. Was this what power felt like?

Bidaut took an unsteady breath and looked at Christine, perhaps for some sign of weakness or a signal that she would keep her husband at bay. “I will be happy to help him,” she added instead, and any resolve left in Bidaut’s face disappeared like morning mist before the sun.

“It is agreed then,” Bidaut whispered. “Fifty thousand.”

“And other incidental payments and promises owed,” Erik added with a look to Pauline that enticed a satisfied smile from her. He wasn’t going back on their deal.

“Let us sort out the details as soon as we can,” Bidaut said and finally put away his gun.

Sligo

T he bank was quiet , so late at night, though Shaya could hear a chorus of frogs echoing from some distant bog through the open window.

The building itself was humble but sturdy, and Shaya could honestly not be critical, as he was pleased a town like this had a bank at all.

Even so, Shaya didn’t think they endured dramatic requests such as this very often.

Erik handed over the truly staggering amount of cash to Bidaut first, with nary a complaint or even a sarcastic quip.

It took all of Shaya’s composure to not ask if something was wrong with the man, but he kept quiet until the deal was done and the bewildered banker showed them all out into the street.

Well, almost all of them. Erik lingered behind for a moment, as Shaya waited next to Bidaut and the woman called Pauline under Christine’s watchful eye.

“I assume our friend is free to go now?” Christine asked impatiently, glancing to where Bidaut had his hand on his hidden revolver in his pocket.

“Our business is concluded, yes,” Bidaut sighed, and raised both his empty hands.

“Praise Allah,” Shaya muttered to himself and removed himself from Bidaut’s proximity. It was a relief to stand by Christine instead and receive the gift of her smile.

“What of my business?” Pauline asked pointedly, as if it was a threat.

“It’s being attended to now,” Christine answered without missing a beat.

“You don’t have to indulge her anymore,” Bidaut said, sounding utterly annoyed with Pauline. “I assure you that as of now, she is no longer employed by the Pomeroy agency.”

“You think I wanted to be after this?” Pauline shot back. “Idiot.”

Bidaut shook his head. “Have you ever noticed how those who are aware of their own defects, yet unwilling to change themselves, tend to insult others with barbs that only apply to themselves?”

“I have noticed that,” Christine replied. “But as much as I would like to stay here and discuss dear Pauline’s faults, I would like to never see your face again. Please leave.”

“Without a goodbye to your illustrious husband?” Bidaut smiled, then frowned as a shadowy figure emerged from the bank.

“Goodbye,” Erik intoned as he came to loom next to Christine. “Never trouble us again.”

Bidaut gave the couple one more circumspect look, then nodded. It was bold of him to turn his back on a man who could so easily kill him and walk away down a dark street with a small fortune in a valise, but that was his problem now.

“You seem to be on your own now,” Christine quipped as Pauline turned to her with a scowl.

“Do you have it?” she demanded.

Erik held out an envelope and Pauline snatched it.

“There. Happy?” Christine said, and Shaya could feel the animosity between the women. Pauline reminded Shaya in that moment of Raoul de Chagny of all people. Blinded by a vendetta and self-deception. At least this woman was giving it up, though not without cost to her targets.

“I’ll be happy knowing that you two are stuck in that hellhole, rotting away into obscurity,” Pauline replied. “Remember, I have corresponded with people in that village and I will be keeping tabs. I’ll know any move you make.”

“Of course you will,” Christine said, looking at the woman from head to toe and shaking her head. “I do hope that somehow, someday, you learn to be happy.”

It struck Shaya as perhaps the most devastating insult Christine could have delivered. Shaya had known Pauline for a matter of hours, but he was quite sure she was the sort that would never truly be happy. They were too angry and too lost.

“I hope you wither up and rot in a life as barren as your belly,” Pauline spat back, and for a second, Christine looked like she was ready for violence.

“Come along,” Erik whispered, placing an arm around his wife. “We have a long journey home.”

They turned without another word, leaving Shaya to give Pauline a final bow. “Perhaps we will meet again in Paris. I keep my eye on things there,” he said, as polite a warning as he could manage.

Shaya had to trot to catch up with Erik and Christine, who thankfully seemed to know where they were going. He’d been transported to and fro in rickety carriages all day, and he had the sneaking suspicion they were bound for another one.

“Well, that was an exciting conclusion,” Erik muttered. “Thank you for your assistance, Daroga.”

“I hope I didn’t make things too much worse,” Shaya replied, and was grateful when Christine gave him a gentle smile.

“I think you helped immensely.” Christine looked back and forth between her husband and the man who had once hunted him. “Though I would like to know what it was you said that changed his mind.”