Read Online Dark Memories (The Phantom Diaries, #2) by Kailin Gow - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Kailin Gow
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clamped down tightly around mine, and I could feel the strength he wanted to transmit to me. His eyes filled with love and compassion, I looked at him through Kristine’s eyes, seeing him as she must have. But in that same moment of seeing the wealth of emotions on his face, I couldn’t help but wonder if it was all for me. How could I compete with the alluring sensuality Kristine exuded so effortlessly? I suddenly felt so naïve and childishly innocent. What did I have to offer a man? A man who’d known the depth of passion with a woman like Kristine?
I stood, shaking off my uncertainties and shifting my concentration to the night’s performance.
“Show them that Annette is truly back,” Eric said with a smile.
It didn’t take long for me to become completely enveloped in the role of Adelle. The crowd welcomed me, the music lifted me and the words that came from my lips took on a whole new meaning.
I lived them through my brief experience with Kristine. The pain and heartache, the treachery and betrayal, the murderous revenge. It all made so much sense now, too much. When Theo, playing the role of my beloved Emile, sang to me of his undying love and eternal gratitude for all Adelle had brought to his life, I saw Eric and Kristine.
My, how he must have loved her to have immortalized his passion in an opera that would live on and on. As I looked into Theo’s eyes, I felt Kristine inside me, not as she had possessed me, but the remnants of her spirit. The hatred and violence. The unhappiness that had rendered her so bitter and bloodthirsty.
Though their affair ended badly, Eric’s passion for Kristine remained, strong and unceasing, transcending death.
The last note of the last song had not made it to the furthest balcony that the crowd got to their feet in elated applause. I glimpsed several tissues being blotted to the corners of the female patron’s eyes and a few men blinking away unshed tears.
Overcome with my own emotions, I stood and took in the adoration of my public. The applause seemed to go on forever and I knew that I had profoundly touched them.
Chapter 9
Eric
Annette’s performance was truly something to behold. She’d surpassed my expectations and had brought a whole new depth and power to the role of Adelle. The public’s reception of her performance made the evening all the more fulfilling.
Pushing through the throngs of admirers who’d already begun to crowd the back halls, I eagerly sought the star of the night. But my approach was halted when I saw Aaron at her side. Professional, if not pompous, he held a possessive gaze on Annette.
Over the many words of congratulations, encouragement and praise, Aaron gazed at me, his eyes instantly divulging his recognition, though of whom, he didn’t seem certain.
Our eyes remained locked together, sizing each other up, analyzing our opponent. As well we were; each vying so stridently for Annette’s affection. If the crowd noticed the animosity that traveled across the room between us, they didn’t let on, but remained enamored with their goddess Annette.
His eyes told of the search his mind was conducting. Was my face familiar to him? Was he aware of the rivalry between his ancestor and I ? The proud stance he maintained told of his assured victory. His claim of Annette was strong, for he held her career in his hands. But his hands betrayed him, repeatedly fisting and flexing as he no doubt knew I was a worthy adversary.
He turned his attention to the crowd, speaking with confidence and authority. Annette smiled, signed autographs and posed for pretty pictures with her fans, occasionally glancing up at me.
Though she smiled, a nervous twitch on the corner of her lips indicated her unease. Was I the source of her discomfort? Could my presence be the cause of the tight fidgeting of her fingers?
“When we last saw you, there was talk of a budding romance,” a columnist shouted out.
I stood, shaking off my uncertainties and shifting my concentration to the night’s performance.
“Show them that Annette is truly back,” Eric said with a smile.
It didn’t take long for me to become completely enveloped in the role of Adelle. The crowd welcomed me, the music lifted me and the words that came from my lips took on a whole new meaning.
I lived them through my brief experience with Kristine. The pain and heartache, the treachery and betrayal, the murderous revenge. It all made so much sense now, too much. When Theo, playing the role of my beloved Emile, sang to me of his undying love and eternal gratitude for all Adelle had brought to his life, I saw Eric and Kristine.
My, how he must have loved her to have immortalized his passion in an opera that would live on and on. As I looked into Theo’s eyes, I felt Kristine inside me, not as she had possessed me, but the remnants of her spirit. The hatred and violence. The unhappiness that had rendered her so bitter and bloodthirsty.
Though their affair ended badly, Eric’s passion for Kristine remained, strong and unceasing, transcending death.
The last note of the last song had not made it to the furthest balcony that the crowd got to their feet in elated applause. I glimpsed several tissues being blotted to the corners of the female patron’s eyes and a few men blinking away unshed tears.
Overcome with my own emotions, I stood and took in the adoration of my public. The applause seemed to go on forever and I knew that I had profoundly touched them.
Chapter 9
Eric
Annette’s performance was truly something to behold. She’d surpassed my expectations and had brought a whole new depth and power to the role of Adelle. The public’s reception of her performance made the evening all the more fulfilling.
Pushing through the throngs of admirers who’d already begun to crowd the back halls, I eagerly sought the star of the night. But my approach was halted when I saw Aaron at her side. Professional, if not pompous, he held a possessive gaze on Annette.
Over the many words of congratulations, encouragement and praise, Aaron gazed at me, his eyes instantly divulging his recognition, though of whom, he didn’t seem certain.
Our eyes remained locked together, sizing each other up, analyzing our opponent. As well we were; each vying so stridently for Annette’s affection. If the crowd noticed the animosity that traveled across the room between us, they didn’t let on, but remained enamored with their goddess Annette.
His eyes told of the search his mind was conducting. Was my face familiar to him? Was he aware of the rivalry between his ancestor and I ? The proud stance he maintained told of his assured victory. His claim of Annette was strong, for he held her career in his hands. But his hands betrayed him, repeatedly fisting and flexing as he no doubt knew I was a worthy adversary.
He turned his attention to the crowd, speaking with confidence and authority. Annette smiled, signed autographs and posed for pretty pictures with her fans, occasionally glancing up at me.
Though she smiled, a nervous twitch on the corner of her lips indicated her unease. Was I the source of her discomfort? Could my presence be the cause of the tight fidgeting of her fingers?
“When we last saw you, there was talk of a budding romance,” a columnist shouted out.
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