Chapter 5 : Dinner

 

            Erik lurked in the many shadows outside of the Opera, unsure of what strange premonition compelled him to loiter about in the pouring down rain that was currently drenching all of Paris.  Something was wrong, that's all he knew... something was wrong and most likely he was the only one who could intervene. 

            However, there were a few difficulties to contend with; first of all, the rain made it virtually impossible for him to see more than ten feet away, second of all, he was freezing and soaked to the skin, lastly, he was anxious to return to his home on the lake in case Meg should happen to turn up... he hadn't seen her since her solo dance during rehearsal and was beginning to worry. 

            He sighed heavily, as the rain came down in sheets with ever-increasing force.  Perhaps he was just becoming paranoid and senile in his old age, despite the fact that fifty was hardly old by most standards. 

            Just then, three forms broke through the darkness, entering into the light of a nearby street lamp that was by some miraculous circumstance, still lit.  What that light revealed made Erik's heart twist with both pain and irrational rage.  It was that accursed pervert of a dancer with Jammes on one arm and his Meg Giry on the other!   Jammes looked perfectly tickled to be in the company of that foul rogue, but Meg, to her credit, looked uncomfortable and vaguely frightened in Jean-Paul's possessive grip.

            Thanking every deity he'd ever heard of for his premonition and cat-like ability to see in the dark, Erik left the safety of the shadows and followed the threesome at close range so that he could hear their conversation above the rain without being detected himself.  They were headed for a carriage, obviously Jean-Paul's, at a brisk pace, their heads bowed slightly to avoid the rain.  As they turned sharply towards the carriage so that Jean-Paul could help the girls board, Erik "disappeared" into the shadow of tree right next to the driver's perch.

            "Where to, Monsieur Delacroix?" the driver asked his employer.

            "Le Chat Noir." he replied with all of the command of a minor tyrant.  "And make it quick, I have fresh ones here."

            "Yes, sir." the driver nodded without a hint of shock or reproach at Delacroix's harsh words and obviously dishonorable intentions.

            Erik's eyes narrowed on Delacroix in barely restrained fury as the dancer lifted himself into the carriage, enclosing himself in the very same compartment as Meg and Jammes.  Lord only knew what he had in store for those girls!  With a hunting dog's determination, Erik sped back to the Opera, breaking into the stables with little trouble.  He knew the way to Le Chat Noir, but he needed a mode of transportation that was infinitely faster than a carriage.  There was no horse faster than the sleek, chestnut stallion named Hades for his nasty temperament with strangers and right now, Erik was in great need of his speed and wildness. 

            The young stallion whickered anxiously at Erik's approach, having been neglected in his mind for several days.  Hades knew Erik well and eagerly let him mount and trot him out into the Rue Scribe.  Once they were safely on the deserted street, Erik urged Hades into a swift gallop, heading at a break-neck pace for the little bistro along the banks of the Seine.  He had to get to that restaurant before Delacroix did something unspeakable!

            Le Chat Noir was located in the bourgeoisie section of Paris, alight with lamps both electric and gas and peopled by every individual imaginable.  Needless to say, Erik was not expecting to be welcomed or even tolerated among these sociable and proper people.  He hid Hades in a dark alley nearby and crept through the few shadows leading to the back door of the bistro, meant for the waiters and other employees.  Due to his life of caution and escapism, Erik found in fairly simple to slip into the kitchen un-noticed and, from there, gain entry to the main dining room in the same manner.  Next came the obstacle of finding Meg, Jammes, and that rat in dancer's clothing amongst all the people that usually crowded the bistro.  Using every trick he could think of or make up, Erik managed to find the trio and place himself behind a large fern-like plant within earshot of their table.  The potted botanicals served him well as a hiding place and convenient camouflage. 

             "Now," announced Delacroix with overly dramatic flourish. "What would you ladies like to drink?  Anything you want.  Money is no object."

            I'd like a glass of red wine, whatever you think is the best, Monsieur Delacroix." Jammes replied pertly, thrilled to be eating in an expensive restaurant with the debonair dancer.

            "Very well... and you, my little Meg?" Delacroix drawled in an almost seductive manner.

            Erik kept the urge to jump out and strangle him to death in check by a slim margin.  She was his little Meg!  Not Delacroix's!

            "Um... just some water, please.  I'm afraid I don't take to wine very well." she supplied uneasily.

            Erik inadvertently cocked his head slightly in puzzlement.  Meg could drink wine without a problem... why was she lying to Delacroix?

            "Oh, come now, Meg... consider this a small celebration of your success!" Delacroix declared jovially.  "Have some wine... or how about some champagne, my lovely?"

            Meg gave Delacroix a look that managed to be cold and frightened at the same time.  "I said no, Monsieur... water."

            Erik smiled from behind his leafy hiding place; Delacroix's good looks and seductive ways obviously did not take in his clever little Meg.  She knew something was wrong and was being extraordinarily careful.  That's my girl! Erik though proudly.

            "As you wish, Meg." Delacroix relented, drawing the waiter over with a nod of his head.  "This young lady would like a glass of Bordeaux 1869, bring the bottle... and the other young lady will have... water."

            The waiter nodded smartly and strode off to the kitchen, but Erik noticed that the lad did not enter it; rather, he stood hovering next to the doors, as though waiting for someone.  This was very suspicious, Erik decided.  When Delacroix asked to excuse himself for a moment, Erik was sure that something was very wrong and darted to another potted plant closer to the waiter.

            As he suspected, Delacroix re-appeared in front of the waiter.  "Listen carefully... I want both girls drugged.  Put enough in the wineglass to knock out the brown-haired girl... but, the redhead I want only partially drugged... enough to make her amorous, but not pass out.  Comprenez-vous?" he ordered swiftly, looking over his shoulder once to make sure that the women didn't see him.

            "Oui, monsieur Delacroix." the waiter replied with another smart nod, turning into the kitchen with military precision as Delacroix made his way back to the girls at the table.

            Erik clenched his hands into tight fists, fighting to contain the fury that pounded through his entire body.  Why that low-down, under-handed bastard!  He's planning to rape my little Meg... or worse!  If I could, I'd twist the rogue's bloody neck right here and now!  But, first... I have to warn Meg!

 

@>-----,------'-------------

 

            Meg had been antsy to begin with under Delacroix's almost predatory gaze, now she was downright panicking in barely consistent silence, as she became more and more certain that Jean-Paul was up to something.  Whatever that something was... she didn't think she wanted to know.   She couldn't even sit still... something was compelling her to get up and leave, no matter how rude it might seem; a premonition of some kind.  However, no matter how insistent this feeling was, she couldn't just leave Jammes alone with Jean-Paul, especially if he had something planned!  She needed to think clearly; but that was all but impossible with Jean-Paul staring at her like was some sort of entree!

            "Are you feeling well, my dear?  You seem a bit... nervous." Jean-Paul asked with well-portrayed concern.

            "Quite well... I just want to go and... freshen up.  If you'll excuse me?" Meg seized upon the opportunity to be free of Jean-Paul for a few minutes like a starving man would seize upon a piece of bread.

            "Certainly... don't be long, though... our drinks should be here in a few minutes, my dear." Delacroix nodded, waving a hand in dismissal.

            Meg rose from her chair and strode daintily towards the ladies lounge, trying her utmost not to look like she was escaping.  If Delacroix knew that she was attempting to figure out a way to flee, she had no doubt that he would do all in his power to prevent her. 

            Suddenly a black-clad hand reached out from behind a large, potted fern and grabbed her, pulling her into the leafy cavern behind it.  A hand clamped down over her mouth, stifling her instinctive scream.

            "Shhh!  Meg, it's me!" a familiar voice pleaded with her to stop her reflexive struggles. 

            She stilled and immediately the leather-covered hand was gone from her mouth and she turned to face Erik with relieved joy.  "Oh, Erik!  Thank God, it's you!  I'm so sorry!  I should never have agreed to come here with Monsieur Delacroix!  He's up to something, I know... but I can't leave Jammes!  I don't know what to do!  Help me, Erik!  Please... I need your help!" she babbled with near-incoherence.

            "Slow down, ma chere." Erik whispered, holding her tight as she flung herself against his chest.  Dear Lord, the child was shaking with fright! "You're really very frightened of Delacroix, aren't you?"

            "Yes!  I don't even know why... all of the other girls are absolutely fawning over him!  But, I sense something out-of-place!" she nodded, her cheek rubbing against Erik's breastbone with tantalizing pressure.

            "You are right to be scared, mon chere... this Delacroix is bad news.  I've heard about him... he's guilty of some unspeakable crimes." Erik assured her, rocking back and forth on his heels with her in his arms.

            "You mean... I'm not just losing my mind because I feel so guilty about... um, about-" Meg stopped herself from revealing her rather diabolical plan of "playing hard to get".

            Erik gave her a curious glance, but said nothing of her sudden malady of speech.  "No, little one... you are not losing your mind." he shook his head. 

            "What are we going to do?  I can't just walk out!  It would make a scene and for all I know, Jean-Paul could blackball me from ever dancing again!  I can't risk that!" Meg asked with a note of desperation in her voice.

            "I know what he's planning, Meg... we can work from there." Erik explained.  "He plans to drug both you and Jammes.  All you have to do is not drink whatever he gives you... apparently, he has connections within this restaurant, so be very careful."

            "But, he'll surely suspect something if I don't eat or drink anything!" Meg pointed out.

            "Hmmm... you're right..." Erik pondered for a solution.  "Very well, I have a plan."

            "What's that?"

            "I want you to suddenly 'become' ill when the food arrives.  Tell him that your stomach hurts and that you feel nauseous.. can you do that?" Erik suggested.

            "Yes... then what?" 

            "Say that you must go home and rest off this illness or else you may not be able to dance tomorrow and insist that Jammes accompany you.  No doubt, Delacroix will be reluctant to leave the restaurant without eating and will call you a cab... if I'm wrong, then just make sure that neither of you is alone with him for a single minute.  Do you understand, Meg?" Erik whispered urgently as he peered out at Delacroix, who was becoming agitated by Meg's prolonged absence.

            "I understand... thank you, Erik." Meg nodded nuzzling against him more in order to stall the moment when she would have to go out again.

            Erik's attention was immediately focused on Meg, curling so trustingly in his embrace.  "Meg... dear Lord, child... if anything ever happened to you... I don't know what I'd do." he whispered.  "If that mangy wolf of a dancer so much as touches you, I'll kill him."

            Meg shivered, but not from Erik's vow of violence against Delacroix... from Erik's dedicated anger in her favor.  He clearly felt strongly about her if he was threatening a man's life for hurting her!  She had thought that love like that only existed in fairy tales and certainly never expected to be on the receiving end of it!  "Erik..." she began hesitantly, longing to tell him of her own feelings but scared nonetheless.  "How can I ever repay you?"

            He gave her a small, affectionate smile.  "We can discuss our respective debts to each other later... right now, you have a performance to give."

            Meg nodded, took a deep breath for courage, and headed back towards the table where Delacroix and Jammes were seated.  Damn it all!  She'd been hindered by her own cowardice again!  She had to tell Erik soon, or else he'd go on believing that nobody cared if he lived or died.  If she had her way, Erik would know that she loved him... one way or another!

 

 

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