No Return: A Contemporary Phantom Tale by Christine Pope Read Free Book Online Page A

center of the stage, heartbreakingly lovely in her simple black dress, her luxuriant dark hair pulled back from her face with a silky ribbon. She had a faraway look on her face, and he sucked in his breath, his thoughts running in an incoherent little prayer: Please...please...please....  
    Then she opened her mouth to sing, and it was all he could do to not fall to his knees there and then, hearing the glory of it, the utter bell-like perfection, the sweetness and purity and strength. There was not a single false note, not a single hesitation—she sang as if the music had come to her directly from God. Perhaps it had.
    It ended with a tumult of applause and then the sound of everyone rising to their feet almost simultaneously, as if directed by a power as far beyond them as her talent. Erik stood there in shock for a moment, staring at the blank blue screen, as the tears ran down his ruined face and the remote dropped from suddenly nerveless fingers.
    He had hoped for—what? Of course, a lovely voice, a true coloratura, but he had never imagined this. Long ago he had abandoned the thought of God, save as possibly some cruel entity who existed only to inflict torment on hapless souls such as he, but surely only God could have been the architect of such beauty.  
    For a second he wavered. Who was he to presume to take such perfection from the world, to keep it only for his own pleasure? Was he really so desperate, so low, that he could only think of himself when the whole world deserved to share in her beauty? Better to abandon his plans now, before he could debase himself any further. He could still worship her from the shadows, make sure the way was smoothed for her so she could quickly become the dazzling star she deserved to be.
    The indecision lasted only a moment before he reached up angrily to brush away the tears on his one uncovered cheek. The world didn’t deserve her. She was everything that was good and pure, and the world was all too harsh to women such as she. No, she should live in sheltered luxury, surrounded by music and art, nurtured in love and unending passion, never to want for anything again. She should be his.
    He turned away from the television screen and noticed for the first time that Jerome had laid a piece of folded paper on his desk. Picking it up, he unfolded it, scanned its contents, then felt a slow fire kindle in his chest. He could see her, be with her in her own world, if only for a night. The only night of the year where no one would question his mask.
    On Halloween, the Phantom would definitely be in attendance at L’Opera ….

Chapter 5

    Halloween in Southern California was always unpredictable. One year the area could be scoured and dry under the fierce winds of a late-season Santa Ana condition; the next year trick-or-treat could be cut short by unpredictable rains. This year, unfortunately, the evening threatened to be one of the latter type. I threw a wary glance at the lowering skies, blood-colored to the west with the last traces of sunset, and prayed that if it was so inconsiderate as to start pouring down rain, it would at least wait until I had arrived at work. One of my windshield wipers was starting to disintegrate into long ribbons of black rubber, and it was hard enough driving in the bulky Marguerite dress without having to deal with wet streets and drivers who seemed to lose their last few brain cells when a few drops of water fell from the sky.
    Luckily, though, I pulled into the parking lot of L’Opera without incident, although a few scattered drops had hit the windshield on the way over. The rain looked as if it was about to start any minute, so I gathered up my heavy skirts and hurried in to the employees’ entrance at the back of the restaurant. I hoped that it would let loose soon and get it over with—I was pulling an eight-hour shift tonight and wouldn’t be off until two in the morning, so it could happily rain away while I was safely inside.  
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