I let her peel the sweaty dress shirt off me. She removes my shoes and socks as well, and the Phantom summons a misty breeze to cool my body.
“Some water,” Christine suggests, and the Phantom brings a glass, then stands with arms folded across his broad chest, watching from beneath his mask while Christine helps me drink.
When I’ve taken a few sips, I lie back down and turn my face away from her. All my energy is gone; I’m entirely wiped out from the panic attack. I despise this weakness in myself. After all, I came down here to rescue her, and now she’s taking care ofme.
“You didn’t explain how you found us,” says the Phantom.
“Is now really the time for that question?” Christine asks.
“It’s all right.” I pull myself higher on the pillows, wincing a little. Sometimes, after an episode of my heart racing that fast, there’s a faint soreness in my chest for a while. “I left the reception early and went to Christine’s room to check on her. When she didn’t answer my knock, I tried the door and found it unlocked. I didn’t plan to go in. I just looked inside to be sure she hadn’t passed out again. Then I saw that the back wall was pushed aside, a gap big enough for someone to walk through, and I discovered the passage behind it.”
“And you followed us? How?” the Phantom persists.
His scent was as strong in that room as hers. It was easy to follow their entwined fragrances. But I can’t bring myself to tell them I can track people by scent.
“The drops of candle wax all over the floor,” I reply.
“Ah.” He seems satisfied by that explanation. “Careless of me. I’ll have the ghosts tidy that up.”
“The ghosts?”
“Oh, don’t worry about that right now!” Christine interjects quickly. “You don’t need any more stress.”
The Phantom leaves my line of sight, presumably to “have the ghosts tidy up.” I feel the beginnings of a tension headache coiling at the back of my right eye, so I force myself to relax, and I close my eyes.
Just for a moment.
***
When I resurface to consciousness, the first thing I see is Christine curled on the bed beside me, sound asleep. Her head is tilted against my arm, locks of brown hair swirled over the velvety black blanket. Her cheeks glow faintly pink, and the fringes of her eyelashes are so temptingly thick, I want to run my fingertip along them.
The heavy curtains have been drawn around the bed, but we’re softly illuminated by a string of tiny lights fastened along the headboard. Somewhere in the cavernous space beyond the drapes, a record is playing, its occasional soft crackle echoing in the subterranean night. A distant voice hums along…faint, beautiful, and far away.
Everything is slightly blurry without my glasses. When I shift my position, I realize my pants have been removed, along with my belt, phone, and wallet. I’m in my boxers under the sheets, while Christine lies on top of the blankets.
Reluctant as I am to wake Christine, this may be my only chance to talk to her alone and find out what she wants to do—try to escape the Phantom, or stay where we are.
I stroke her soft cheek with the backs of my fingers. Her eyes open immediately, and the vicious darkness in them only softenswhen she sees that it’s me. For a second, she actually looked murderous, and it takes me a moment to recover my breath and remember what I was going to say.
“Do you want to leave?” I whisper. “We could sneak away. Or we could overpower him together.”
“Where would we go?” she replies softly. “If I go back to my room, he’ll only follow me.”
“I would take you home with me, but my family is…” I hesitate, struggling for words.
“Complicated?” Christine offers.
“Controlling. Demanding. Dangerous.”
She scoffs lightly. “Sounds like mine. Before they died, anyway.”
“I’m sorry you had to go through that.”
“It’s been shit, not gonna lie.” She rolls over and stares up at the velvet hangings above us. “My parents always had so many expectations. So many rules. Even about who I could date or marry.”
I prop myself on one elbow. “Mine too. That’s one reason I can’t bring you home. My sister wouldn’t let you stay. In her eyes, you’re not acceptable relationship material.”
“Oh, I’m definitely not.”
