Author's Note:

Dear Readers,

This next section is from Susan Kay's Phantom. I have used this past for another book of mine, The Phantom's Carol. I hope this isn't a problem. It just makes perfect sense for him. I will probably use it for all of my books that include the original Phantom of the Opera. I will always phrase it differently though. Sorry if this is problem. Enjoy!!!!!

sarahlet2999

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Evangeline's POV:

Erik pulled away from me immediately. For one moment I regretted asking but I needed to know about it. He growled and walked over to the window. I bit my lip and said,

“Erik, I need to know. You have you have trust me with a lot but I am asking this one last thing of you. Please, I need to know.” Erik shook his head.

“You don't need to know. Just know that my life hasn't been the easiest. You don't need to know the details.” I stood up and pressed myself against his back. I felt the scars and needed to know where he got them. I took a deep breath and said,

“Erik, I love you. I don't want to be kept in the dark anymore. Please, Erik.” I begged. He turned around and looked me in the eye. I reached up and brushed a strand of hair out of his eye. He smiled and kissed me gently. He ran his hand through my red hair and said,

“I don't want to hurt you. My life was hell and it would tarnish you.” I smiled and whispered,

“Only silver tarnishes, Love. Not steel.” He chuckled and led me to the bed. He sat down and I curled up in his lap. I loved doing that. It made me feel warm and safe. He took one deep breath and said,

“I was born in Boscherville. My father was a stonemason and died before I was born. My mother was a nice enough woman but she was very abusive to me. At nine I ran away. My mother was being courted and I thought that if I left she would have a chance at love. I never heard from her again. Two weeks after I ran I was captured by the gypsies.” He closed his eyes and pulled me closer if that was possible. I quickly ran my hands over his back and he continued in a whisper, “That is where I got most of my scars. I was called the Living Corpse and beaten as a part of the show. It wasn't long before I became feared by even the gypsies. My skill with ventriloquism worried them. They taught me a lot. I finally murdered my owner and fled from them. I couldn't take the abuse anymore. I stumbled upon a kind old man who took me in until I was fifteen. I ran again when I inadvertently caused the death of his favorite daughter. She wanted to see under the mask and I wouldn't allow it. When they sided together I show them and she fell from the balcony we were standing on.” He shuddered and I kissed his bare cheek gently. He rocked me for a moment before continuing,

“I travel around the world for a while before I landed in Persia. I entertained the Shah's mother and build a palace for him. I was known for my traps and my sick love of mirrors. He knew enough of my past to know I had no heart. So I became his court assassin. I was good at it. Really good at it. I met Daroga there. He was a police chief and no stranger pair has bee made. But then the Shah started to fear me. He tried to kill me. Daroga and I fled Persia and came to Paris. I had always wanted to build an Opera House. By the time I got to Paris it was already being built. I managed to convince the builder to let me help. I made myself a lair and many tunnels that no one knew about. The rest is history.” I looked up at him but he wouldn't meet my gaze. I grabbed his chin and kissed him soundly.

“Erik, what is wrong? Don't pull away.” He laid my head against his chest and whimpered,

“You are married to a murderer. Doesn't that make you sick!” I shook my head. It was behind him now. I loved him and he had changed.

“No, you are different. You aren't the same man you were than. You have a heart. Don't let anyone ever tell you differently. You are a husband and soon to be a father. Let's leave the past in the past. Thank you for telling me though. Now I understand you better. Lets go to sleep. Tomorrow is waiting for us.” We laid down and I snuggled against him. He set his hand on my stomach and my baby kicked. She only kicked when he touched my stomach. She knew her father.

“She kicked.” Erik whispered. I laughed.

“I know. Why do you always refer to it as a girl?” He smiled.

“Because I want a daughter.” I smiled into his chest and fell asleep. I didn't fear him even though I knew he had blood on his hands. He wasn't the same man that had murdered. This man had a heart and we loved each other.