A/n: Sorry for leaving you there, Stephanie GURR. I'm submitting this one early just for you! Enjoy!

Chapter 9:

Paris: The Night Life

Emma's eyes slid open. She blinked a few times until she could see clearly again. The room she was in was had tall walls and only a few pieces of furniture, including two chairs and a small wooden desk. Emma tried to stand but realized that thick ropes bound her hands and feet. They were tied fairly lose but were still tight enough to keep here from walking, or running anywhere far.

"Hello?" She yelled as loud as she could. There was no answer; there wasn't even the slight sound of someone walking to the room. "HELLO?" She yelled again this time louder. The door on the far side of the room swung open and in walked the man who she had seen drunk before this.

"How has your night been going miss Emma?" he said with a mocking smile on his face, "I trust you had a nice nap?" He kneeled down beside her with his arms resting on his knees. The room wasn't well lit but there was enough light to see his facial expressions.

Emma thought for a moment, if it was still nighttime then he couldn't have been drunk at the time she had seen him. She tried to stand but slide back down to her original position leaning against the wall. She curled up pulling her knees into her chest, "Please let me go," She said quietly looking quite pathetic.

"We'll let you go as soon as we get the information that we need." He said again smirking the same way he had earlier while he was acting drunk.

" I don't know anything about anybody here," she said looking up, "I don't know anyone here! I just got here by horse this very night, I haven't talked to anyone except Steven."

These words had barley passed her lips when the door opened again and Steven walked in. Upon seeing Emma awake his face twisted into shock but then he quickly regained himself. "Gregory," he addressed the man squatting next to Emma, "Erik needs you outside for a moment," he looked up at Emma, the slight feeling of guilt could be seen in his eyes. Gregory left the room and Steven remained, unaided with Emma. The door behind him closed and he spoke.

"Don't worry miss Emma," his silky voice flowed to her ears, "I made them promise not to hurt you. They just want to know some information and then they'll let you go, untouched." He tried to stretch a smile across his face but it faded quickly when he saw the look of fear in Emma's eyes.

"I told you before, I just got here, I don't know anything about anybody." She said resting her head against here knees. "Please just let me go…"

"I saw you come into today, I know, Emma," he said looking down at his feet. He looked up, "They want to know about lord Othello, we've been following you since you escaped from prison." His gaze stayed on Emma's eyes.

"Othello?" she whispered, worried now about why they would follow him for more than one hundred miles. "What did he do?" she asked.

"He murdered his wife," Steven said looking up quite frightened, "You mean you didn't know?"

Emma rested her head between her knees so Steven couldn't see her face. This was all too much to take in for her. Just a few hours ago she thought that maybe there had been something between them, but how could there be after what he had done?

Emma stayed this way not hearing a sound from Steven until the door opened and Gregory walked back into the room. Emma just stayed how she was, one silent tear streamed down her face and onto her leg, 'It can't be true,' she kept thinking to herself.

The door shut and Emma was again alone with Gregory, who spoke, "Sorry about that, Emma," he said being much too pleasant for the situation.

Adam sat up swiftly in his 'bed'. He glanced around the room and immediately noticed that Emma was gone. He rapidly stood up and slid on a baggy white shirt and slid through the darkness, tripping over Othello on the way out. Othello stirred for a moment but didn't completely wake up until the light of the hall flooded the room.

Adam stormed down the stairs and stumbled into the streets looking frantically to both sides for Emma. The streets were dark and silent except for the roar of the crowd in the playhouse.

Othello quickly slipped into a shirt and crawled over to were Romeo lay asleep. He shook him softly. "Wake up, Romeo. Emma and Adam have left us."

"You mean they are," he swallowed gravely, "dead?"

Othello rolled his eyes, "No, you idiot, they are GONE! Look!" He forced Romeo to look over to the two empty piles of bedding. Romeo hastily stood up and stumbled, first over Bassanio and then to the door.

"Let us make haste then," Romeo said with excitement while clumsily pulling out his sword, and trying to balance it between his two bony arms. The sword hit the ground with a load clank.

Bassanio and Othello looked at each other, "Why don't you stay here and watch the room, Romeo." Othello said smiling at the young boy's lack of strength.

Adam zipped around a corner and stopped while looking at the ground. He had the feeling that he was on the right track, he couldn't be sure but it seemed as if something was leading him to where he thought Emma would be. Of coarse, the set of footprints also helped a lot. He followed the footprints all the way into an alley. From there he followed them into a tall building, completely engulfed in darkness.

He slowly pushed open the door of the building. The hinges squeaked like a frightened mouse. He walked in, slowly turning each corner waiting for someone to come out at any moment. He laid his back against a wall; from around the corner he heard two voices arguing. They seemed to be fighting about what to do with something, but Adam didn't quite know what about until he heard Emma's name articulated from one of the two man's lips.

Adam slowly pulled out his sword, trying to be as quiet as was possible in the nearly silent structure. He was getting ready to lunge around the corner, but before he had the chance to throw himself at the two men a strong hand grabbed is arm and pulled him close to the body that belonged to the arm.

"Wait for the precise instant to strike," the voice whispered was immediately recognized as Othello's.

"When is this instant that you speak of Othello? They have Emma in there and there's no telling what they are doing to her!" Adam whispered back.

"Don't worry about her," Bassanio whispered from behind Othello, "She's a strong woman, and she came defend herself."

"Where is he!" Gregory yelled slapping Emma across the face. "I know you know where he is!"

Emma fell to the ground, she was now untied but knew that her strength was no match to Gregory's. "I don't know where he is," Emma whispered to the wooden floor in front of her face. She used what little strength she had left to rise to her feet and meet the eyes of her opponent, "Even if I did know where he was I wouldn't tell you!" She bellowed to his face and was struck down again.

She held her head above the floor with her elbows and tried to again rise herself to her feet, but failed and fell completely on the ground. The wooden floor felt almost like ice on her face. Though there was warm weather outside the room they were in remained cold.

Adam slipped his head around the corner and then jerked it back to his original position. "They aren't doing anything but sitting there," he said to Othello.

"Do they have any weapons with them?" Asked Othello. Adam shot his head around the corner again, then once more jerked his head back to answer Othello's question.

"Yes, they both do, but I don't think that there is any better point in time to strike than at this moment."