The man pulled a cloth from his bag and a container of some sort of liquid. Damen watched with mounting curiosity as John then ran the cloth over the doorknob, walls, and the door itself with a steadfast, quiet efficiency.

He had a great many questions but, for the moment, his attention was drawn back to Laurent who approached him with his own cloth. Damen could indeed smell the liquid that seemed through that fabric, sharp and acidic, reeking of a familiar alcohol that would likely make Paschal even grimace.

Damen looked at the cloth and then to Laurent's face. Whatever hint of hurt he'd seen then before was gone, replaced with a cool and steady gaze. With a nod, Damen sat himself on the arm of the chaise, lowering his height enough that Laurent would not have to reach too far. 'You're looking forward to this, aren't you?' he asked, words meant as a tease though the tone didn't quite reach.

He turned his head from Laurent's sharp eyes to frown at the bloodied body on Laurent's floor. 'We're to leave her there until then?'