"What's happening?" I started to twist around, out of Moriarty's arms, as the music continued to play and people's worried murmurs flew in the air. He kept me a little too close for my liking. "What did you do?"

"I didn't do anything. I've been with you since we walked in."

"Cut the crap." I smacked him on the arm. "What did you do?"

"I told you, nothing."

The crowd near us parted. A man laid on the floor, frothing and gurgling, writhing. He fell still.

"Ah, what a shame. I liked him. Respected the bloke. Oh well, guess it doesn't bode well to piss powerful people off. I'd hate to think whose bad side he got on. Best to avoid any more drinks, Rachel."

"You think?" I searched for any sign of Mandy and her so-called date.

"Don't worry, your friend is in good hands."

"Ready to be used as leverage if I get out of hand?" I raised a brow.

"Partially, and I figured she deserved some freedom, too."

"I hardly call this freedom." The dead body was soon forgotten about; criminals resumed their mingling and dancing. Moriarty and I stopped dancing, and my mind kept thinking back to the dead body. In a place full of criminals, someone decided to pull off a murder.

"I didn't want my partner to be lonely and look like the third wheel."

"Partner as in...?"

Moriarty groaned. "I'm not gay, Rachel."

"You look like you could swing that way."

"Charming comedian tonight, you are." We moved our way to another part of the floor.

I heard a lot of different words, a lot which scared me. It wasn't every day you heard several different conversations about a terrorist plot, a hit, and a bombing all in the same room at the same time. So this is what it's like to be in the belly of Hell. I'm among criminals from around the world.

"Are you going to stalk me if I use the bathroom?" I said suddenly.

"No. I trust you'll do the right thing and come back to me."

I got lost in the throng of people once I let go of Moriarty. Truthfully, I did need to use the bathroom. But I also wanted to be in a room where I could think without him breathing down my neck, literally. I needed to clear my head and calm down. Being in the presence of such dangerous people was making me jittery.

There was nobody when I ran in. I used the sink counter for support, seeing my arms tremble violently. This is insane. Things are too good right now. There's a dead body out there. This is insane. I dowsed myself with some cold water and rubbed my face clean.

I ignored the door as it swung open. I adjusted the mask on my face.

"Nice dress," the sultry voice commented. "I'm more of a black-dress kind of woman." Her eyes were piercing through her mask, her lips a dark red. Her hair was pinned up elegantly, and for a moment, I almost gave myself a heart attack in thinking it was Miss Whitehall. But it wasn't. The voice sounded too calm and soft.

"Thanks," I mumbled.

"You look peaky. First party?"

"With a bunch of psychopaths, yes." I covered my mouth as soon as I heard the words. Crap.

Instead of the woman being offended, she chuckled. "Psychopaths, sociopaths, blackmailers, take your pick. It's a mixed bag in this place."

"And what are you?"

"Not what you think. But I know what you are."

I swallowed. Easy prey? "Do you?"

"A scared little deer who only wishes to escape the hunter. He's keeping you on a leash, and not in the good way. But then again, he has a knack for that sort of thing. He puts you in a tight spot, one you can't wiggle your way out of easily."

I snorted. "You sound like you know my date."

"I do, most of the people here do. But I think I've got an up on them, I've spoken to him. Heard his voice. Seen his face. I know what he's capable of."

Curious, I turned to her. "Getting to him through me isn't good for anyone."

"Relax." She looked around the room. "I'm not here to hurt you."

I cocked my head. "Y-you're not?"

"No." Her red-nailed fingers briefly pulled up her mask from her face. "I'm a friend."

"Nobody in this place is a friend to me."

"I am. I'm a...friend of Sherlock's."

"I know Sherlock Holmes, he doesn't have a lot of those."

"Did you not hear me?"

"I did."

"You're Rachel Watson."

I jumped, looking at her, petrified. "Excuse me?"

"Like I said, I'm a friend of Sherlock's."

I took a wary step back. "Stay away from me."

"Listen, I don't have a lot of time. As far as this world knows, I don't exist. I died from a beheading." She squinted. "They're trying to look for you, all of them. Sherlock, John, Bayley, Mary—"

"How do you know that name?"

"Your fiancé? Look, how I know him isn't important."

"Oh, really?" I snapped. "I think I'd like to know how a 'friend' of Sherlock's knows my fiancé."

The woman glowered at me. "Sherlock roped me into doing this favor, I owe him one. They're all stumped as to where you are. If you can tell me what's going on, I can relay a message back to them. Where is he keeping you?"

"I don't know, some mansion-like place. I don't know where." My heart started to race. If this woman was legit, this was the break I was looking for. "It's got four people in it. He's playing a game again. Somehow, I'm involved."

"Of course you are, dear. You were involved with him in the past."

"Sherlock or Moriarty?"

"Both." She looked quickly at the bathroom door. "We've spent more than enough time in here. You leave first. Just do as I say," she snapped when I gave her a judgmental look.

"What's your name?" I asked as I began to leave.

"Irene."

"Adler?"

She looked a bit surprised. "You've heard of me?"

"Very little. I read about you from John's blog." It was so weird that I referred to Dad by his actual name. It just slipped out. "Sherlock never told me much about you."

"Go." She gestured towards the door.

Straightening myself up, I slipped out of the bathroom, my heart a flutter. I met her, The Woman. Irene Adler. She's on our side.

"Get backed up?" Moriarty asked conversationally once I (reluctantly) found my way back to him. "You weren't doing business in there, were you?"

"Not the kind you're thinking, at least." I looped my arm through his. "How much longer do we need to stay?"

"You want to leave so soon? Kitten, this is a party, a place to have fun!"

"A man died here."

"Your point?"

I rolled my eyes.

"Just chin up for a little while longer. Besides, we leave when I say so."

"What did you do while I was in there? Conduct business of your own? Attract more criminals to your web?"

"I made sure you did as you were told. I noticed someone went in after you."

"I was too scared to speak to them," I said quickly. "A place full of criminals, I don't want to step on toes." This was such a risky lie.

"Mm, good girl."

I yelped as I was suddenly pulled from Moriarty's arm. I felt a strong arm wrap around my neck. The crowd was oblivious to the current situation.

"Miss Whitehall sends her regards," the man hissed in my ear.

I cried out when I felt a knife imbed itself into my right shoulder. Repeatedly.

When I felt myself be released, I fell forward into Moriarty's arms. His hand covered my wounds, and I found myself cowering into him. Moriarty's partner stood over the dead body, with Mandy nearby, mouth covered in horror. The body held a sharp, bloody blade.

"So," I croaked, wincing through the pain, "is it time to go yet?"

"Rachel!" Mandy squeaked, bending down near me. She pulled me away from Moriarty. "Oh, my god!"

"Move it!" her date hissed.

"I've got her," Moriarty snarled, taking me back from Mandy. "I've got you, Rachel. You're going to be okay, darling." His body felt tense as we escorted ourselves from the party, into the cool night outside. "That woman is going to be dead, one way or another. I swear it."

"I'll start preparing," said Mandy's date. "I'll make sure to send a few of my best to the mansion to keep watch while I'm gone."

"Always knew I could rely on you, Sebastian."

Once we got ourselves into the limo, the last thing I remembered was passing out against Moriarty, staining his suit with my blood.