And then I spot something else, something I didn’t notice at first, because from a certain angle, the mailbox half concealed it.
There’s a “For Sale” sign in front of my family home.
Shock sears through me like acidic lightning.
The Progeny vampires are selling my parents’ house. They fought so hard to keep me from having it, and now they aresellingit.
Of course they wouldn’t want to inhabit this place, not when there’s such a strong shifter presence in Nashville. Of course they would take the money and let the house go.
For a moment, my rage paralyzes me.
But even if I had the money to buy this house outright, I don’t think I would. My siblings didn’t die in those rooms, but their ghosts haunt the halls all the same. I acclimated to my new physiology there. In the kitchen and the downstairs bathroom, I drank fromthe unconscious people my parents brought home. Sometimes, my parents took too much blood from those people, and the bodies of the victims ended up in the backyard, under the rhododendrons. In that house, I was taught the drug-and-drink process. In one of those bedrooms, I struggled with the doctrines of the Progeny and found my own kind of mental freedom long before I gained financial independence.
My rage gradually subsides, and a morbid peace filters into my heart.
Let the Progeny have it. Let them dispose of it as they please. I’m leaving this city, and I don’t want my parents’ blood-soaked mansion anyway.
I switch my foot from the brake to the gas and roll away from my childhood home, headed southwest, away from the City of Music.
24The Phantom
Raoul has been shouting at me for nearly an hour.
I have barely responded. This night was supposed to be triumphant. I was supposed to prove to myself, to all of them, that I am in control. That I have power. That I can shape this new life to suit my goals.
I succeeded, in a sense. Carlotta won’t be performing for a long time, and thanks to the secrets I hold over them, Gil Leveque and the conductor are moving forward with the new score I composed.
But the only two people who matter to me are furious.
Raoul is walking back and forth along the edge of the canal, ranting about intellectual property and common decency and such things, while I sit disconsolate, staring at my hands. I’ve taken the gloves off, and I’m examining my own pale skin, the knuckles and flesh and fingernails of this body.
Despite my faulty memory, Christine’s words are permanently etched in my brain.You complete narcissist. You self-absorbed piece of shit. You honestly believe you have the right to mess with people’s liveslike this? You think you’re still a god? You’re not. At best, you’re a deeply disturbed man with a few supernatural powers.
I am death. I am ruin.
I ruin everything. For myself and for them.
Raoul has been berating me for so long that his voice has grown thin and strained. He stops in front of me, touching the bridge of his nose where his glasses usually rest. “Do you have anything to say for yourself?”
I was wrong. Forgive me. Simple words, and yet I cannot bring myself to say them. Pride will not allow it.
“What does Christine think about all this?” he asks. “You said you saw her and that she was angry. What else did she say?”
“Does it matter? She hates me, like you do.”
“Stop.” He sighs, exasperated. “I don’t hate you. When you love someone and they do something wrong, you call them out on it. That’s what I’m doing.”
I look up, a vivid pulse of hope flaring through my chest. “You still love me?”
He kicks my foot lightly with his. “Yes, motherfucker.”
“And what about Christine?”
“Well…” He runs a hand through his hair. “Might be a little more complicated with her. When I spoke to her at the party, she seemed pretty set against the idea of the three of us. I tried not to let it get to me. I figured she might just need some time to adjust. It’s a lot to deal with. But then the thing with Carlotta happened, and I’m not gonna lie—that doesn’t really help our cause. In fact, it probably just confirmed to her that a relationship with us would be toxic.” He releases a long sigh. “Tell me everything she said to you, and tell me everything you’ve done.”
We talk for another hour. Raoul tries not to yell again, but I see the judgment in his eyes, the unmistakable truth that I have broken humanity’s moral code. I tell him about the blackmail, the secrets, my plans and goals.
His gaze softens by the end, and at last he says, “Yeah, it might take a while for Christine to forgive you. Instead of trusting her talent to take her where she needs to go, you tried to force people to give her the role. She’s hurt. Your first step needs to be an apology. And I’m talking an apology withgroveling.”
