I bit down on my fear as I walked to the steps and found my mark on stage. Calling the threat a prank was an understatement, if ever I’d heard one, and I was far from reassured by the director’s optimism.

  Aaron had already confronted me, blaming Eric for the threat. “He is the only one who stands to lose once this opera hits the stage, at least in his mind he is. Who else would have any interest at all in closing us down?”

  In my heart, despite how Eric despised this particular opera, I knew he couldn’t possibly be behind this. But who could?

  With Chace accompanying me with a sole violin, I sang my song of vengeful plotting. “You’ll not have my heart. You’ll not have my soul. It belongs to another, yet be you so bold. All I need is your death, your blood in the sands. All I need is a plot that’ll not stain my hands…”

  “Stop!” Monte cried out.

  Taken aback, I stared at him.

  “Where’s your motivation, Annette? You're singing the words, but there’s not an ounce of passion behind them. You're plotting the murder of your betrothed so that you may freely run off to be with another. I want to see murder in your eyes. I want to hear torture in your song.” He clapped his hands three times. “Start again.”

  As Chace played out the introductory notes, I closed my eyes, digging deep for a connection with this song. It was powerful, yet so vastly different from my own character, it was difficult to relate.

  Eric, I thought. Think of Eric and how you want to be with him.

  The first words came out, a little feeble and weak, and I feared Monte would stop me again, but I found the right blend of vulnerability and desperation. As the pace and violence of the song rose, I balled my fist and eyed the audience with murderous intent. When the song came to an end, I fell back into the sofa, exhausted.

  “Bravo,” Monte said with a proud applause. “Exactly how I envisioned it.” He turned to the entire cast. All right. All on stage for the closing scene. Let’s not waste our time and let’s get it right the first time.”

  Brandon, the young actor hired to play the part of Eric, came to me, somewhat shy, somewhat guarded. “That was really good. I hope I can live up to my part. Playing against you is something I dreamed of since I saw you last year. Now that I’m here, however, I’m a little nervous.”

  I chuckled softly, pleased with the compliment. “Don’t worry about anything, Brandon. I saw you in rehearsal the other day and you're brilliant. You have too much talent to be intimidated by someone like me.”

  We ran through the entire scene, the highs and lows, the fear and pain, the loss. Brandon and I had chemistry, despite his nerves and I knew we’d make a good team. By the time it was over, everyone had forgotten about the Phantom threats and was looking forward to bringing the opera to the people.

  After numerous compliments and congratulations, I headed to my dressing room. The performance was draining and I needed a moment alone.

  “You okay?” Chace said as he came up and walked along side me. “You're all flushed.”

  Before I could answer, he slipped his hand under my elbow and walked me to my dressing room. Once inside, he turned me toward him. “I know this past week has been spooky, but I want you to know I’m there for you. Monte’s just trying to lighten things up, but we have to stay on our toes. Don’t let your guard down.”

  “You don’t have to do this, Chace. You don’t have to escort me everywhere.”

  “Do you remember the promise I made you? Remember the transfer to California that I didn’t accept? I’m here to protect you and that’s exactly what I’m going to do.”

  “I’m worried about you, too, Chace. The last time this Phantom showed up you almost…” I felt the blood drain from my face at the thought.

  “I almost killed Aaron, yeah, I remember.” He grimaced and glanced away a moment. “Look,” he said as he brought his gaze back to me. He’d matured so much these past weeks, almost losing the boyish innocence that had so enchanted me. But he’d also become so strong and determined. “You might think this is crazy, but, I think you might have done the right thing by pushing me away. When I think back on that night with Aaron, how enraged I was… It surprised me. I didn’t know I had that kind of anger inside me. I think if we’d gotten together, if we’d given ourselves to each other…”

  He swiped his hand through his hair and turned to look at himself in my full length mirror. “Sometimes it feels like I don’t recognize myself anymore. I think of you so much. I understand and accept your need to cool off our relationship a bit, ‘cause I think if you were mine, I wouldn’t be able to handle the thought of you with someone else. The thought of you kissing another man already drives me nuts as it is, but the thought of you in another man’s bed… I’m a little more jealous than I thought. Then again, I’ve never cared for anyone the way I care about you.”

  I smiled and reached out to touch his shoulder. “I’m happy to have you as a close friend, Chace. I need someone like you in my life.”

  He turned to me and took my hand in his, his fingers threading through mine. “You know, I think I have a handle on this Kristine chick and if she comes back, I’ll play it cool, but…” He eyed me with teasing hunger and desire. “Just in case… I think I need to keep my distance.”

  “Okay,” I said with a chuckle as I pulled my hand from his and backed away. “I promise I’ll keep a safe distance from you, but in exchange you have to promise me something.”

  “Whatever you want.”

  I turned to my dressing table, pulled out the drawer and reached underneath where I’d taped an envelope.”

  Chace cocked a cunning brow. “Has all this phantom stuff turned you spy or what?”

  I tore the envelope from the drawer and reached for his hand to empty the contents. A ruby encrusted crucifix, the one I’d initially worn when I’d first arrived in New York, fell into his hands. “I want you to wear this… at all times. It should be able to protect you from Kristine and her influence.”

  “No,” he said as he shook his head and pressed the crucifix back into my hand. “I can’t take this, Annette. You need it. She’s after you more than me. Besides, I can take care of myself.”

  I grabbed the chain and held it up. “Don’t worry,” I said, reaching over his head to slip it on. “I already have mine.”

  He let me settle the crucifix inside his shirt against his chest. “In that case, thank you. I appreciate the fact that you're so concerned with my well-being.”

  I chuckled. “Well, I appreciate the fact that you didn’t selfishly grab the crucifix and run off to save yourself.”

  Laughing softly, he grasped my hand as I released the crucifix. “There would hardly be any point in saving myself if something were to ultimately happen to you. I couldn’t live with myself.”

  Warmed by his gesture, his smile and his hand, I gazed at him. I was so lucky to know him, to have him as a friend. Any girl would kill to have a guy like him paying the slightest attention, yet here I was unable to offer him more than my sincere friendship.

  He let out a soft snort and released my hand. “Don’t give me that look, Annette. I’m having a hard time keeping my hands off you as it is. That come hither look isn’t helping.”

  “That wasn’t a come hither look,” I argued. “I was just really charmed by how unselfish you continue to be. I’m always amazed and impressed by how considerate you are.”

  “Well, your amazement and appreciation can easily be confused with something else.” He grinned and let his gaze trail down the length of my body. “It’s all I can do to keep from grabbing you, pulling you in my arms and kissing you.”

  A knock at the door ensured he kept control of those tempting urges.

  “Come in,” I called out.

  Monte entered and seemed momentarily surprised to see Chace with me, but he quickly recovered and offered me a professional gaze. “Sorry to break up your little chat,” he said with a hint of haughtiness. “I just wanted to make sure everything is all right.”

  “All right?” I said with a curious frown. “I’m fine.”

  “Everyone else seems very skittish and nervous, despite the great rehearsal and my pep talk. It’s almost as if they’re waiting for the other shoe to fall. I’m worried about opening night. If all else starts to crumble, I want to at least be able to rely on my star to carry the show as best as she can.”

  “That’s a pretty tall order, but, yes, I’ll do my best to keep my calm and hopefully transmit that calm to the rest of the cast.”

  “Actually, I was a little concerned you might want to bail out. I can work my way around any other absence, but your understudy is far from ready to take over should anything keep you from getting to the stage.” He paused a long moment as if reluctant to go on. “Truth be told, New York is coming to see the great Annette, not the replacing Donna.”

  “You can count on me,” I said. “I’ll be there.”

  Chapter 17

  My hair had been scooped up into an elegant updo, only to be artfully disheveled to give me the appearance of a wild woman playing the elegant lady. My makeup was heavy and did a good job of making me look crazed and maniacal… almost too good a job. I barely recognized myself.

  With three sets of hands helping me into my first costume, I stared at my reflection, trying to see Annette. It was increasingly difficult as Kristine came to life. I swallowed my fear.

  This is just an opera, I reminded myself. She hasn’t come back to possess me. I’m in full control. I’m taking on her role and I have her words and her actions at my command, not the other way around.

  I caught the glimmer of fear in my eyes and fought to bring determination to my gaze instead. I couldn’t allow the fear to build up and take over once I hit the stage. Right from the start, I had to convey the air of an innocent who is obsessed by her love for one man; an obsession that turns to murder.

  “Fifteen minutes to curtain,” a firm voice called through the door.

  My breath caught in my throat for a panicked moment, but I quickly soothed it. I saw the look on the women’s eyes around me. Though they remained silent as they fitted me with the many layers my costume demanded, I could see their concern.

  They finished up, despite a few nervous slips of their fingers, and left me just as Aaron entered.

  “Ready?”

  “I think so.” I shook my head. “Yes, I’m fine. I’m ready.”

  “I know you're nervous,” he said as he came to me and took my hands in his. “I’ve taken every precaution to ensure everything runs smoothly. I’ve added security, I’ve added cameras and I’ve had the entire Opera House checked and re-checked. Nothing can go wrong tonight.”

  “Thank you, Aaron. I really appreciate the words of reassurance. I’ll admit I am a little nervous, but I trust you and I know you’ll do everything to keep me safe.”

  “That goes without saying,” he said with a gentle smile. “The house is full and anticipation is high. A lot has been said about this opera. Some question its viability and many question your ability. I’m sure you’ve heard about those who are here to watch you fall on your face, but I know you better. I want you to go out there and prove to them that you have it in you to play any part, to sing any melody and to display any emotion.”

  I smiled, my determination heightened by his trust in me and my ability.

  “New York awaits, my dear Annette. Now go out there and give them what they came for.”

  I nodded.

  “May I have the honor of leading you to the stage?”

  “Can you leave me just one moment? I want a moment alone… time to find my inner murderess,” I said with a grin.

  He nodded his understanding. “I’ll wait for you just outside the door.”

  The moment he was gone, I turned to the mirror. My reflection pleased and troubled me. I closed my eyes, found my center, found my Kristine.

  My thoughts trailed off to Eric. It wasn’t difficult. After all he was what motivated Kristine. What would I do for Eric? How much would I give up to be with him?

  I re-lived our night of passion; his hands, his lips, his body. The heat of that passionate night fueled my motivation for Kristine. I felt the love she’d felt. I felt the desperation she’d had. I wanted Eric as much as she’d wanted him.

  In that very moment, I wanted him more than ever. I’d not seen him in a few days and wondered why he’d not come around. I would have liked a word of encouragement from him, even if he was unhappy with this opera.

  Holding onto that longing and that need, I turned away from my reflection. I narrowed my eyes with lust, cunning and strength, and opened the door. Aaron seemed instantly pleased with what he saw and silently guided me to the stage.

  After an eternal moment of silence, the lights went down and a lone base note announced the start of the show.

  Song after song, I sang with the innocence of a young Kristine and slowly built up the obsessed woman she became. I let myself go wild on stage, feeling the pain of possibly losing Eric so profoundly, real tears streamed down my cheeks as I sang of my heartache.

  I felt empowered and never wanted the evening to end.

  When I left the stage for intermission, I felt exhilarated and alive.

  “Great performance, Annette,” a crew member called out.

  “Very convincing, Annette,” a cast mate whispered.

  “The crowd loves you, Annette,” another said. “You have them in the palm of your hand. Don’t let up.”

  While I wanted to smile, be genial and thank everyone, I felt the need to remain in character. I wanted to hold onto Kristine in that moment, to hold onto the emotion that had built up. It was so strong, so deep, I didn’t want to relinquish it only to have to work to build it up again.

  Maintaining a stride that was straight, cold and determined I made it to my dressing room and remained aloof during my costume change. The moment I was dressed I nodded my desire to be left alone.

  I switched the light off and stood in the dark. I felt Eric’s presence and tuned into every sensation that came to my body. His scent, his voice, his touch.

  “Where are you, Eric?” I muttered softly.

  I grinned in the dark, wondering if he’d intentionally left me to my own; if he knew just how much I would long for him, and search for him. Was this his way of pushing me to give my greatest performance?

  Letting out a soft and appreciative snort, I opened the door and headed out to continue my performance.

  Chapter 18

  Having held onto the brewing passion that would lead Kristine to murder, I easily slipped onstage and into nineteenth century Paris. The music filled me and the words spewed from my mouth.

  As one scene bled into another, I hurried off stage to change into my masquerade costume. A Marie Antoinette wig was set atop my head and the petticoats of my dress spread out far and wide.

  Just as I prepared to hurry back onstage, Carmen caught me by the arm. The growing rage of Kristine’s impatience had me turning to her with an expression far more menacing that she deserved.

  “How dare you touch me,” I spat.

  Not to be outdone, Carmen held onto her own character, that of one of Rupert’s arrogant and haughty cousins, Laurence. “Your tone is both unsuitable and unnecessary. Were it not that I care very much about the outcome of this evening, I would ignore your insolence, and you altogether, but as it stands, you're stepping out in such a state would not sit well.” She held out my mask, the mask I’d set on a side table as I’d adjusted my skirts. “You’d do well to wear one of these into The Masquerade party.”

  I bit down on a grin, and ripped the mask from her hand. Placing it over my face, I entered the fabulous Aragon ballroom. Dazzling costumes, outrageous wigs and an opulent setting surrounded me as I waltzed among my cast mates to find center stage.

  As I sang, the Phantom weaved through the party crowd and came to stand beside me, his hand firm and strong as he took mine.

  Though it wasn’t as electric as Eric’s, his hold nonetheless brought me back to my time with Eric. I sang my words of love to him; tender, sweet and heartfelt.

  “You seep into my soul. You deprive me of my sanity. The nights grow dark and dreary. You sneak in anonymity. I’ll have you in my heart. I want you for all eternity. Blessed phantom, how your absence pains me.”

  The phantom’s grip tightened around my fingers, at first transmitting the emotion of the moment. But as my words of love and never ending devotion continued to play on my lips, his fingers tightened to the point of pain.

  I tried to maintain my composure, and gazed into the eyes so fashionably framed by the mask he wore. I sought a glimmer of explanation. I knew Brandon had to be nervous, but that didn’t explain the vice he had on my hands.

  Though my fingers called to me, begging for assistance as they were squeezed to a pulp, I knew I had to remain professional and continue with the song as if nothing peculiar was happening.

  But all I really wanted to do was pull off the mask and ask Brandon what he was doing.

  He pulled me into his arms, something that was completely unscripted. I pushed my hand to his chest, just barely able to utter my next line. My voice should have been strong and loud, the notes steady and high, but they were chocked, small and confused.

  As the violins and cellos built up tension, I gazed into the eyes of the stranger behind the mask.

  “What are you doing?” I whispered.

  I thought it might snap him out of it, bring him back to the moment, but he just sneered, something that was so uncharacteristic of Brandon.

  “Brandon?” I said with confusion.

  The music died down, my cue to resume singing.