The clumsy scraping of her feet dragging along the stones of the passage grated on his ears, his unfailing instinct for survival and concealment railing at this affront to elusiveness. But he could hardly reprimand the girl – after all, she seemed but half-conscious and the words would be wasted on her. And he was never one to waste words.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity to him, they reached his dwelling space. He glanced back to see her reaction, feeling a strange twinge of fear at bringing another living being into this place that had only ever know his dream companions and wax dolls for company.

She seemed bewildered but unfazed, as if it was all part of some pain-induced delirium. He saw her grey eyes dart around restlessly, as if unable to focus on any one detail. Indeed, he admitted to himself that the elaborate candelabras, the curtained alcoves, the shadows, the mist…all the elements created more of a stage setting than an abode.

"Come," he said quietly, gesturing for her to follow him deeper into his lair.

The girl hesitated for a moment, and he took the hesitation for fear.

"I will not harm you," he said gruffly. He then raised his eyebrows in surprise as she shook her head as if to say she did not fear him. She pressed one hand against her forehead then waved it back and forth in front of her face. Comprehension dawned in him, and he stepped over to her, gently grasping her elbow to steady her.

For the first moment, he didn't think anything of the fact he was touching her.

Not until she took a step did he realize that for the first time in twenty years, he had made contact with the flesh and blood of another human being. It took all his discipline to simply swallow the gasp that might have escaped his lips.

The girl allowed herself to lean more heavily into him, and he could feel the trembling of her body as her legs wobbled beneath her. Praying that she could not hear the hammering of his heart, he slipped a firm hand around her waist to support her without touching those ribs that seemed so painful and helped her over to the chair in front of his desk. The girl sank gratefully down into it. And before he could turn from her, she gave him by far the greatest surprise of the night.

She took both his hands in her own and pressed her cheek to them, her eyes brimming with tears of pain and gratitude.

Hurriedly, as if she was a flame that burned him, he withdrew his hands and took a step back from her. The expression of confusion on her face discomfited him, and he hated himself for revealing a moment of weakness.

Quickly, he turned from her to hide his troubled thoughts. They were too jumbled, confused, enraged and scared to sort out into neat rows of logic. Instead, he focused on fetching her a cup of water and placing it into her hands without so much as brushing her fingers.

The girl took the cup from him and raised it to her lips. Her tense expression puzzled him until he saw that she had difficulty swallowing. What's more, he noticed that the water that dribbled out of the corners of her lips was tinted red. She caught his gaze with hers, and instantly brought a hand to cover her mouth.

"What has happened to you?" he asked softly, making no move towards her.

Tears sprung to her eyes, and her face crumpled like a grieving child's. His long-dead heart missed a beat.

"Were you born mute?" he asked, unable to resist taking a step closer to her.

The girl shook her head, a silent sob shaking her shoulders.

A pang of shock went through his frame as he guessed at the act that had rendered her speechless. Steeling himself, he reached out a black leather gloved-hand and took her chin, while moving aside her hand with the other one.

"Let me see," he commanded gently.

The girl shook her head vehemently.

"Let me see," he repeated a little more sternly.

The girl's eyes narrowed at him in a glare, coming to rest with vindictive purpose on his mask, then deliberately moving to hold his gaze. Abruptly, he released her chin.

Apparently, they both had something to hide.