Angel's Mask by Jessica Mason

Author:Jessica Mason
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Phantom of the Opera, Monster Romance, Opera Romance, Beauty and the Beast Romance, bondage elements, steamy, slow burn, retold, lgbtq characters, The Phantom of the Opera, paranormal romance, monster romance
Publisher: Murmuration Books
Published: 2023-01-10T00:00:00+00:00

Erik had chosen box five for its awkward location: almost on top of the stage, only two premier boxes separating it from the proscenium, on the grand tier, one level above the orchestra. The hollow column he had constructed that allowed him to enter and leave the box was quite useful and almost eliminated the need for a concierge, but Estelle Giry had proved extremely useful in other ways.

Quite the opposite of the other box-holders, he did not come to the Opera to be seen and instead kept to the shadows at the back of the box. He was grateful for those shadows tonight. He hoped their soft chill would dim the memory of Christine on the other side of the mirror, so utterly stunning. And now, there she was, on his stage at last, a vision of loveliness with a voice so perfect he could hear it through all the din. And it sang for him.

Erik could not take his eyes off her in the crowd scenes of act two. Carlos Fontana and Robert Rameau did their level best as Faust and Méphistophélès, while Simon Fayard brought some bombastic verve to Valentin, but it was Christine who shone for him. Enough so that he had no desire to stay for act three, where the chorus did not appear. He slipped out of the box and made his way to the dressing rooms, taking his time to listen to the gossip.

Fontana held room one, and as always, was using the interval to sip tea and reapply his makeup. Rameau was across the hall in a room Erik usually could not look into, but it sounded like he was entertaining a male visitor who he knew well.

“I don’t know. I think I’m too young for it,” the unknown man was saying.

“If the minister is looking for new blood, you should seize on it,” Rameau replied, still sounding like a tempting devil even off stage. “And I’d certainly be happy about it.”

“As if I could even do the job with you around,” the man protested, and Erik raised an eyebrow.

“I’ve spent years here watching sopranos be such distractions, don’t you think it’s my turn?” Rameau laughed. Erik wondered what position Rameau’s paramour was being considered for.

“It’s different with us, you know that,” the man said quietly.

“Maybe you’re right, you’re far too demure for the Opera,” Rameau laughed. “And too superstitious.”

“More ghost stories now?” the man asked back. Erik did love to hear himself talked about, but movement in the corridor forced him to retreat, back into the dark confines of the walls. And behind Carlotta’s mirror now.

Like Fontana, Carlotta was seated at her vanity, applying more rouge to her lips and decolletage, while LeDoux simpered behind her, scribbling notes in a little book, the night’s program also clutched under his arm.

“Is there any one new tonight?” Carlotta asked, her attention intent on her own reflection and her regular mélange of an accent completely absent. “I’m getting tired of the Marquis and his crooked prick.

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