Immortal Darkness (Phantom Diaries #3) (13 page)

Though far from being a loner or solitary type, I began to feel a growing need to be by myself, to discover who Annette really was.  Since arriving I’ve had Chace, Aaron and even Eric tell me who and how I should be.

“I hate to have you living so far away,” Eric said.

“It’s not that bad,” I said with a shrug.  “Besides, I should find another apartment soon.”

“You know there’s plenty of room for you at my place.”

And how would that differ from living at Aaron’s , I wanted to ask.  “Thanks,” I said instead.  “But I think I really need to be alone for a little while.  At least a few days.”

His jaw tightened as he nodded his acceptance of my answer. It was almost enough to make me change my mind. Going to stay at his place would solve so many problems, but would create a whole other batch of them.  I had to stick to my guns.

“Will you be able to come around to work your voice for this new production?  I know you're doing well without me, but I still think there’s some refining I can help bring to your voice.”

“I’d like that, Eric.”

“Okay, I’ll leave you to your packing then.”  He headed for the door, but turned back to me before turning the doorknob. “One last thing…”  He reached into his pant pocket. “What is this doing here?” He held up the ring Kristine had given him… the ring Eric had left on top of Kristine’s grave in France.

“Where d’you find that?”  I tried to sound calm, but heard the frantic fringe on my voice.

He pointed to the top kitchen drawer just beneath the thermostat.

It didn’t make sense.  How could the ring have come into my apartment?  I wanted to scream out the ridiculousness of the whole situation.  A frozen apartment.  The mysterious appearance of a ring.  A man who wanted to marry me.

A daunting chill speared through my body and I wanted to cry out in frustration.  The chill had nothing to do with the temperature of my apartment.  It was a chill that came from within.  A chill based on fear and a complete lack of control.

I shivered and shoved my hands deep into my coat pockets.

“Look,” Eric said as he put the ring on his finger. “I’ll take this thing away from here.” He stepped closer and put his arms around me, his hands working over my body in an attempt to rid me of my chill.  “Come on,” he said after a long moment.  “Let’s grab some of your stuff and get you out of here.”

We hurried to my bedroom.  I was so cold, I didn’t even care that he rummaged through my drawers and threw clothes indiscriminately into a bag.

“Something is going on in this place, you know that, don’t you? This isn’t some simple heating problem. I wouldn’t be surprised if Kristine had something to do with all this. She’s probably up to her old tricks again, using some kind of gypsy magic to possess your apartment.”

With two bags full, we headed to the door. Eric wanted to drive me back to the motel, but I took the cab instead. Between the three beyond gorgeous men that I love, I was finding it harder and harder to resist each one before I was certain what I wanted. Chace tempted me with his sweet boyish earnestness, while Aaron tempted me with his worldliness and charm, but Eric…Eric was temptation itself. I fought against myself from succumbing to his wishes to have me go back to him house instead of the small motel room near the Met, but in the end, I won over temptation, and found myself stronger but lonelier for it.

Chap
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12

A
fter only a few more days in the dingy motel, I finally had a new home to go to. Aaron had found me a great apartment at a reasonable price.

“This is so much better than my old apartment… so much bigger.”  I set a box of dishes on the kitchen counter. “Look at these counters… and the cabinets. They’re gorgeous. Are you sure about the price?” It seemed too good to be true.  It was only thirty dollars more than my old apartment, and yet so much more modern.

“Yep,” Aaron said.  He seemed proud, but was strained.

“Hey, look,” I said excitedly as I came to the thermostat. “Electronic thermostats. My heating problems should be over.”

“I’m glad you like it.”

“Thanks for helping me bring my stuff from your place.”

“It’s the least I can do.” He seemed uncomfortable and unhappy.

I’d not seen much of him since moving to the hotel and the few times I did run into him, he seemed distant, almost cold.

Was the fact that I might never marry him finally sinking in?  And did he resent me for it?

“I’ll make sure your old apartment is completely empty.  All your stuff should be here tomorrow at the latest.”

I nodded and an awkward silence hung over us.

“I have something to ask you, Aaron.”

His eyes lit up, making the question I had for him all the more difficult to ask. He seemed so hopeful and I knew my question would only bring him down again.

“There was a ring back in my apartment the other day.”

He stared blankly at me.

“It was Kristine’s ring. What was it doing there, Aaron?

“I probably set it on the counter when I went around your place checking the thermostats.  Why is that such a problem? I simply forgot it.”

“It wasn’t on the counter, Aaron.  It was in a drawer.”

“Annette, I don’t know what you're implying, but it’s probably just a simple matter of the super finding the ring and putting it in a safe place.”

I opened the box of dishes and started pulling the plates out then set them down on the counter.  “Do you know the significance of the ring?”  I turned to him.

“What do you mean?”

“It’s an Aragon ring, right?”

“Or course.”

I leaned my elbow over the dishes in the box and tapped my fingers impatiently along the edge of the flap.

“It was the one Martin wore,” Aaron went on.

“Who’s Martin?” I pushed the box back and leaned against the counter, my full attention on his every word.

“Eric’s father, Martin Aragon. I think sometime, way back then, Kristine found the ring and gave it to Eric.  With Kristine being a gypsy like Martin’s mother… who knows what spell she cursed that ring with?”

“The curse of immortality,” I said with a skeptical grimace. “You know I went through her journals more than once and there’s no mention of Eric’s immortality. I looked for clues, or hidden meanings and there was nothing.  But why would she curse the ring?  Just to torture him eternally?ure him B

Aaron shook his head and pressed his lips together.  I could see he was unhappy talking about Eric, but was graciously trying to get through it.  “I don’t think Kristine would have wanted to put such a thing in writing, even in something as personal and intimate as a journal.  No gypsy wants to have a written record of their practices.”

“Then how am I ever going to find out what happened to Eric and why?”

Aaron shrugged, not quite able to hide just how little he cared about Eric and his circumstance.

Chap
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13

“
H
ow’s the new apartment?” Eric asked as I took off my coat and draped it on the back of the sofa in his living room.

I could see he was still unhappy with my rejection of his hospitality.  “It’s very nice,” I said, understating just how much I really loved it.  “At least it’s warm.”

He pressed a tight grin and reached for the music sheets to Rupert’s
The Traitor
.

“How do you like the opera?” I asked.

I thought I detected a tightening in his shoulders as he turned to lead me to the piano, but he simply said, “Not sure yet.”

We reached the music room and settled in to begin a song.

Eric pounded out the sole, sharp bass note that introduced the dark love so ng.

“He’s after my heart,” I sang. “This demon with lust in his eyes.  Though I know that we must part.  He keeps my love for all times.”

The melody was disturbing, filling my heart with the pain the lovers felt for one another almost as much as the words themselves.

“I go to him, I have no will of my own.  He touches me, I succumb as I’ve always known.  He’ll break my heart, this much is clear.  How can I stop?  I need him near.”

I heard a loud sigh as I sang and wondered if I’d missed a note.  I continued.  “He’s a rogue and a thief.  Vermin from the depths of the underground.  Set me free, before insanity brings me down.  He’ll destroy my…”

“That’s enough,” Eric shouted.  “Stop it.”  He slammed his fist into the keys, creating a chaotic din.

I froze and the next note caught in my throat, ready to come out but choked by his command.  Was I that horrible?  Had my voice come to be affected by the strain of the past few days?  By the cold of winter?  “I’m sorry.  I know those last few notes were a bit off, but they’re even higher than I’d really realized.”

“It has nothing to do with your voice.  You’ve hit the notes with perfection and the emotion in your voice is as it should be. It is the words that accompany the notes that are so revolting. Talk of demons and vermin. This opera depicts me as a villain, a monster.”

“Eric, surely it’s a dramatization of Kristine’s experiences. You know how operas are.  There has to be drama and conflict.”

“At my expense?”

I leaned against the piano and gazed down at his fingers. Fisted over the keys, the last notes he’d pounded still reverberated. “You shouldn’t take it personally, Eric. Everyone at the Opera House is excited and thrilled with this opera and, believe it or not, despite these harsh words, most are enamored with this phantom.”

“And no doubt they believe the heroine to be as pure as the driven snow.”  He glared up at me.  “Aaron is trying to pass this off as being based on face, when it is all based on lies and fabrications… the rantings of a wild and vengeful woman.  These words paint her as a saint, as a woman with purely altruistic goals.”  His eyes took on a sardonic gleam as he cocked his head to the side. “Are you defending him and his actions?”

I saw the pain in his eyes, the fear of betrayal.  If I took Aaron’s side in this, it would be the ultimate slap in the face for him.  “No,” I said with a shake of my head.  “Eric, I hadn’t really taken the time to dissect all the lyrics to these songs.  I got taken in by the beautifully pain-filled melodies and was swept up by the story as a whole.”

His fingers ran along the scar on his cheek and I saw the heartbroken young boy who’d had far too much pain for far too long.  Was I now adding to that pain and heartache? 

“I can talk to Aaron tomorrow,” I finally said.

“To what end?  Is Aaron so madly in love with you that he’d change Rupert’s words to suit you?”  He chuckled, a sound completely bereft of amusement or joy.  “The depiction is precisely as he would have it, precisely as biased as if he’d written it himself.”

“Then what do you want me to do?”  I reached for the hand that still worked over his scars.  “I hate to see you like this, Eric. I don’t want this show to bring you more pain.” I sat beside him on the piano bench and he stared long and hard at the piano keys before bringing his gaze to me.