The Unchaste

Satanists

Several minutes following the darkness, the sound of breathing not-their-own diminished and utter, unnerving silence infiltrated the chamber.

Only, there was a heart beating so close to her ear. Steady and calm, but just as powerful. His heartbeat was so even against the flapping mess of her own.

His proclivity to hold her so intimately would have enraged her but the things he whispered into her ears were distracting enough.

There was to be a little change in his strategy.  However, since Delilah hadn’t known what the original plan had been in the first place, she was less curious towards the change and more about the plan itself. He told her that formerly, he had wished to proceed with the purloining in the dead of the night, with little risk for himself, her and the ‘girl’.

But now, with intentions seeming vile on the other side of the barter, they had to strike out loud. And promptly.

“In here, we are not safe.” He dragged her along in the darkness, towards the possible door. “You are not safe.”

Why, indeed? He was yet to tell.

If the room had been pointedly dark inside, the darkness of the corridor was just as dense, but more blunt. Delilah could now see his shape. She yanked her hand out of his grip, now that she could pursue him with a reserve.

“Twenty-eight steps left.” He informed her letting her go and Delilah readily nodded at his commanded direction. “Then, turn right until the staircase shows up. Please do not depose yourself Miss Eves, since I have no time to dawdle along with your wrecked limbs.”

“My wrecked limb won’t present a problem.” She murmured dully before collecting her flaring cloak and skirt and pacing head-on by his side. “And even if they do, you needn’t be bothered. I am pretty capable of saving myself.”

He didn’t reproach and silence swelled the hallway. Her footfall was as quiet as his own.

The said staircase showed up and the pair descended it just as fleetingly. The lobby below was quivering with soft, sepia firelight, but was oddly soundless, and it was odd_ they had spanned this atrium not quarter an hour ago and at that time, it was full of rushing nuns and busy servants.

He observed it too, because his urbane steps soon eased into a soft halt, and he blinked twice. Rapidly.

Quietly, he extended his hand to her. She accepted, joining their palms.

The peril was palpable now, they had walked into a snare of webbing intents and trap plays. They had been spied upon since their entry, in the room and it was only obvious that they were being discerned still. They entered the lobby cautiously he seemed to know the way_ he turned right, toward a inconspicuous looking door.

They had been quick, almost there, almost at the door when the anticipated strike came.

A metallic baton hit the side of Delilah’s head and sent her crashing the wall. She didn’t as much let out a shriek as pain clogged her throat, she blanked on sensations.

When her hand wrenched out of his firm hold following the soft beat of the blow, Lord Richard whipped sharply. She saw his eyes widening, then narrowing as he reached out to gather her off the floor while she struggled to breath but then, he stopped.