Read Master of the Opera, Act 5: A Haunting Duet for Free Online Page A

we’ve done, all we’re doing, is because we love you.”
    Her father had said that—that he wanted her in his sole custody because it would be best for her. Her mother’s itinerant lifestyle and liberal/media-elite ideas would only corrupt Christy’s thinking. With a pang, she missed her mother, needed to talk to her. Her mother would know what to do. Had her mother known about the Sanclaros and whatever agreement they had with her father? It would explain so many things.
    “You don’t really believe in demons, do you?” she tendered.
    Roman cast her a sideways look. The grand house loomed ahead, ablaze with light, music wafting on the evening breeze.
    He squeezed her hand and let go, patting it. “The Sanclaro family is old and has many secrets. We don’t discuss this in public, but we have things to teach you. It’s time for you to reach your destiny—under my loving and protective guidance.”
    He parked the car in front of the wide, curving staircase that led up to the hacienda doors, the police unit crunching on the gravel as it pulled up behind them. “Wait here—I’m going to talk to the cops about you, see if we can stand for your good behavior. Then I’ll escort you inside.”
    She waited, tense, her thoughts working furiously. Above, the hills rolled up to the pinking sky, a flare of copper catching the light. Peering at it, she felt as if she knew that shape and color. It reminded her of the opera house. But could that be? She’d still never driven herself here, so she wasn’t totally clear exactly where the Sanclaro estate sat in relation to the city. It was a long, looping drive, around hills and through a canyon, and—yes, they absolutely could be in the valley below the opera house, on the sunset side.
    And the music she’d thought came from the hacienda instead floated down from above. Someone rehearsing a duet—the light and dark voices winding together, now clear, now torn apart by an errant breeze.
    Geologically speaking, we’re not that far from there.
    The roads tended to follow the valleys, making big loops around the high ridges. That was the opera house, from the other side.
    The car door popped open, startling her. “Come on,” Roman grunted, taking her arm and nearly pulling her out of the car. The police officers waited nearby, deliberately relaxed smiles on their faces.
    “Do you need assistance, Ms. Davis?” one inquired, with a significant glance at Roman’s grip on her arm.
    “She’s fine,” Roman snapped. “As you’ve already been told.”
    “We’d prefer to hear it from Ms. Davis, if you don’t mind,” the other officer told him, steel behind the smile.
    She could ask for their help, Christine realized. Roman would be angry, but the cops would protect her. Protective custody, Sanchez had suggested. Now she wondered if he’d suspected this. She could escape this way—run from the Sanclaros and her father. Which would mean abandoning the trapped spirit under the opera house, too.
    “Perhaps we should speak with Ms. Davis alone,” the first cop suggested. “Over here, Ms. Davis?”
    Reluctantly, but with a fierce warning glare, Roman released her arm, and Christine went with the cops, walking a short distance with them, as if out for a summer stroll.
    “Are you being coerced or abused, Ms. Davis?” The one who’d asked if she required assistance cut to the chase.
    If she said yes now, they’d take her back to her apartment—and she might never discover what the Sanclaros knew about the Master. It would be the coward’s way out.
    “No, I’m fine.” They looked at her dubiously, and she knew she sounded like the girl who gave in to her father, who wore Roman’s cursed ring. Stop being weak , she ordered herself. Overcome it. “I appreciate your looking out for me, but I’m in no danger.” She really hoped that was true.
    The first one handed her his card. “You have your cell phone? Good. We’ll be right out here in front. If you’re the