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Together Again	By : CheshireCity Category: > Black Butler (Kuroshitsuji ???) Views: 2888 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Kuroshitsuji/Black Butler and make no money from the works of Yana Toboso.

Chapter List
- 4
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- 6
“Together Again”

Chapter Five

Abisara Echerius

"Oh, friend John, it is a strange world, a sad world, a world full of miseries, woes, and troubles. And yet when King Laugh come, he make them all dance to the tune he play."

Bram Stoker (Dracula)

The silence hung heavily about their heads. There was something infinite about the moment. The breath had just barely escaped the demon’s lips, yet the oxygen felt sucked from the very air, dropping them off unexpectedly into a dizzying height. One glance and everything was out in the open, the moment crystalized in place. Breathless, the butler welled up with apology, feeling the elusive tips of his partner’s fingers slip from his grasp. They were only mid waltz, but the band had stopped playing, the air was both crisp and stagnant. The dance had ended.

But just as quickly as it had finished, the melodies of life came crashing back down, leaving the demon feeling at sea and without a partner. In a cacophony of sound and bright clothing, Soma tumbled into the room, lashing out ineffectively with a polished candelabrum. “Foul beast!” he howled, throwing the top-heavy decoration in the demon’s general direction and missing by several feet. Unmoved, Sebastian watched as the incensed prince groped possessively for the earl, pressing him to his bare chest in what was meant to be a sheltering act. “How dare you impregnate my best friend!”

“Master Soma…” Agni called lowly, re-entering the room. His scent spiked with concern; he, at least, had sense enough not to interfere with the private matters of a dangerous being. “I told you that theory in confidence.” He continued pliantly, as if willing his master out of the room. “I don’t know the meaning of the word ‘cambion’ in this…” he trailed off pointedly, looking at the other two occupants of the room. “Situation.”

“He used his evil Rakshasa magic to force my best friend to be a host for his demon seed!” the prince bit back with a howl, pulling Ciel even closer to him still despite the other’s obvious discomfort. A tanned hand dipped across the clothed planes of the earl’s stomach as his tugged him forward, and a growl ripped from the demon’s throat unbidden. In seconds, the Indian butler slid forward, hands upraised and fastened over loosening bandages. Agni clenched his jaw in obvious nervousness, but his eyes pleaded the demon to keep from slaughtering the ignorant prince for overstepping his boundaries.

“Get off of me.” Ciel said roughly, pushing Soma to the ground. Sebastian relaxed slightly as he watched the display. “You don’t understand the situation.”

“What’s there to understand?!” the prince retorted, hysterics replaced with earnest worry. “He – he defiled you!”

The sharp cocktail of indignation and shamed agreement stirred within Sebastian, only to be doused by his mate’s retort.

“He did no such thing.” The earl said curtly. “I’m telling you: you misunderstood the situation.”

“Then you allowed him to bed you willingly?!” Soma gasped, sitting back on his haunches. Ciel stiffened slightly, smelling as if embarrassed. When he spoke, his voice had grown icier.

“Who said that there was any risqué business going about?”

“You’re hosting his seed, are you not?” the prince pointed out, brow creasing in confusion as his butler eased him up off the carpet.

“Master – .” Agni muttered helplessly.

Sebastian reclined in his seat, wishing for nothing more than to disappear into the plush cushions as he worked to massage the tension out of his temples. Needless to say, it wasn’t alleviating much. Had he less control over his expression – and the strict years of servitude from his childhood had trained him otherwise – he would have undoubtedly been blushing in frustration and shame. “This has gotten far too out of hand.” He uttered with a sigh. “I assure you I have not harmed the young master in any way,” the mere accusation made his neck prickle with disgust, “Nor done anything that has not been instructed of me.”

“So wait.” Soma quipped in an unusual moment of attentiveness. Large golden eyes looked between the Phantomhive household as if processing a difficult calculation. “He… ordered you to get him pregnant?”

“Who said anything about being pregnant?!” the earl snapped indignantly. The three other occupants stilled considerably, as though suddenly aware how hormonal the pregnant tend to be. Sebastian fought not to physically recoil from the sharp pricks of anger that radiated from his young mate, surprised by the sudden intensity. Soma gave an inhuman whimper and shakily pointed up at his butler, eager to slough off the responsibility of the accusation.

“I… I mistook the meanings of your words, and most likely made a poor translation.” Agni replied eloquently, offering a nervous smile and a bow. The benevolence faltered for a split second as he glanced over at his fellow butler, unable to hide the moment of curious uncertainty. “It was foolish of me to mistake Mister Sebastian as a demon – .”

“You were right.” Ciel sighed.

Sebastian jolted in his seat, electrified with shock and disbelief. Was this his punishment? He was going to be cast out of the human realm entirely by being revealed? The Indians sat in rapt attention, eyes widened in alarm. And Ciel… no, there was more to it. Sebastian narrowed his eyes as he watched an all-to-familiar blush creep up over his master’s cheeks: it was the same theatrical stunt the earl had learned to pull as a child to try and trick his butler into thinking that he was too ill to study or work. “…My lord?”

“I… Soma was right.” Ciel breathed, turning slightly from the group. “Because… the truth… it’s… I’m infertile.”

If Sebastian wasn’t so stunned by the sudden show of thespianism, he would have snorted in amusement. Infertile. Not argue the otherwise anatomically impossible feat, not make some lame excuse of weight gain. Were that not a mystery in of itself, the demon was more than aware of the fact that he had just been delivered to safety by the peculiar turn of events. The earl had so many options – each as ridiculous and as plausible as the next – to openly reject him, reveal him, turn him out. Yet he chose infertility. Sebastian was still toying with thought of the lie becoming rumor in social circles – however would dear little Lizzie react? Better yet, her horrid mother? – when Ciel resumed his act.

“You see,” the earl paused deliberately, allowing the blush to deepen as he folded into himself with feminine embarrassment, pressing a finger against his lips. Were it not all so absurd, it might have been appealing. “I fear for my family line.”

This time Sebastian had to bite his own tongue to keep down the chortle.

“The Phantomhive family has a strange and consistent history of their male heirs dying quite young – ”

‘Maybe you lot should give up the Faustian contracts?’

“Keeping this in mind, I… ” Ciel released a small sigh, whether in theatrics or embarrassment the demon couldn’t quite tell, “For the past year, my fiancée Elizabeth and I have been attempting to conceive.”

Coppery blood filled Sebastian’s mouth as his teeth tamed his tongue into submission, chest constricting painfully as he attempted to retain his indifferent composure.

‘Attempting to conceive? As if that weren’t scandalous in your culture to begin with! I doubt you know the first thing about a woman’s body, my dearest. Really, you have the sexual awareness of a newborn kit. …As though I’d allow for you two to rut anyway.’

“I knew it was terribly improper of me to invite my fiancée to bed before we were wed – ” the younger continued, giving a sad laugh of shame, which was much less forced that the rest.

‘I wouldn’t put it past the girl to jump at the chance, as enamoured as she is…’

“Much less attempt to conceive a child with her… but… in my poor health, I found it necessary to do so.” Turning his cheek, he brushed away an imaginary tear – the only salty scent was from nervous sweat – as he continued his woeful monologue. “But sadly, we were unable to conceive a child after many months of trying – and I eventually came to the conclusion that it was my impotence that was causing the problem.”

‘Ah, so you do realize, I hope that you have backed yourself into a corner? I’ll simply be forced to forbid you from fucking any girl ever just in case your ‘impotence’ disappears. On that hand, I rather approve of this ridiculous farce.’

“But… after confiding in Sebastian,”

‘Who else?’

“I discovered that his demon magic – ”

‘Magic? Magic?! What the devil kind of being do you take me for?”

“– Could be used to sire a strong, healthy child with demon blood that would live and carry on a strong, healthy line of Phantomhives.”

‘Aaand now they know that I’m a demon. Anything else you’d like to add?’

“However, due to a contract that I had formed with him when he saved my life on a moonlit night – .”

Sebastian was distinctly grateful for his demon heritage; else he would be forced to worry about the receding appendage of tongue that he was forcefully chomping down upon. Despite the gratuitous amounts of blood trickling down his throat, he was cheered by the fact that he would have more than enough material to make a certain mortician pliant when he next needed information.

“He would only be able to sire this child with me and me alone.”

Sebastian chose not to think about the countless young males and females he had snuck off with or had been walked in on during his wilder years. He didn’t like considering the possible outcomes of said encounters.

“So I put aside all reservations and asked him to do so.”

Soma gazed up at him in teary awe, mouth slightly agape. “How… how touching! Such a selfless act is nothing less than I would expect from my dearest of friends, Ciel Phantomhive!” In a flurry of excitement, he launched himself at Sebastian, seizing the man’s hands in his own. To the butler, the prince smelled of nothing but mango lassi and betrayal.

‘Didn’t you address me as a ‘foul beast’ only moments ago? Don’t touch me.’

“Sebastian?” Soma prodded. “Is this true?”

Helplessly, he looked over at his master, practically hit in the face with the flood of embarrassment. Ciel gave a marginal nod, and, swallowing down as much damage to his mouth at possible, Sebastian gave a small nod of his own, schooling his features into their most somber arrangements. “It is very true.” He replied with forced conviction. “And now others of my kind are after the young master, believing his child –” he very nearly stumbled over the possessive noun “– to be an abomination.”

Fresh, fat tears gathered in the corners of Soma’s face as he inhaled another dramatic gasp. With a flourish of jingling bangles and embroidered fabrics he launched himself at his butler’s chest, striking a bizarre pose that might have been an attempt of heroism. “We must do everything in our power to help protect Ciel and his child from these foul creatures, do you understand?” he ordered with a playful grin. Agni blinked into awareness, straightening from his former stance and retightening his bandages as if awakening from a long doze. Cognizant, he gave Sebastian a brief look of uncertainty before turning pleasantly to his charge. “Of course, Master Soma. I will do whatever it takes.”

“Excellent!” the prince beamed, wheeling back in to the room, taking for granted the genuineness of his butler’s promise. Noting it, Sebastian relaxed, allowing himself a small smile of relief. Demon or no, his – was it alright to classify as ‘friendship’? – with his fellow butler hadn’t faltered when it came down to serious matters.

Ciel rose from the couch with a dismissive word, stretching slightly in place. “I was about to retire to my room along with Sebastian.” The prince simultaneously wilted as the butler in question perked in interest. “We had some matters to discuss concerning the recent attacks – due to which I am not feeling necessarily hungry.”

“I shall set a bowl of curry aside for you.” Agni appealed kindly, pressing his hands together as he gave a small bowl. The prince leapt at him, urging him out of the room as though appropriately reading the atmosphere for a change.

“Don’t bother them!” he huffed jovially, bouncing down the hall in front of his butler. “Leave them be – .” But the rest of his sentence was drowned out by the distant shutting of a door. The solitary sound was enough to shatter the pretenses in the air and Ciel growled out a sigh of frustration, pacing over to the nearest wall and bracing his forehead and hands against it resolutely. Unable to quell his amusement any longer, Sebastian rose as well, smoothly gathering to his master’s side.

“What exactly are you doing, my lord?”

Small thumps of the earl’s head tapping against the wall punctuated his reply. “Killing myself,” the Phantomhive replied dryly. “I would assume there would be better ways of going about it, but smashing my head into a bloody pulp against this wall seems like an appropriately painful and effective method considering the humiliation I have just subjected myself to.”

A wry smirk curled over the butler’s lips and he watched the pitiful scene. “I disagree. It was a … how would you put it?” White gloved fingers pressed to his lips as he rifled through the list of human colloquialisms he had accrued over the years. “A ‘good save’? Despite the expression, it was clever – and more importantly, Master Soma seemed to buy it without question.”

‘Then again, he seems to buy just about anything without question, doesn’t he? Were it not bound to come back around at some point, he could have very well cured my boredom with the amount of absolute bullshit I could have been feeding him these past few days.’

“I couldn’t very well hide it forever.” Ciel replied in exhaustion, turning from his half-hearted suicide attempt to face the demon. His shoulders sagged and for the first time that night, Sebastian felt the layered walls of defense lower. The amusement melted away as he gazed down at his tired mate, lovingly caressing the other’s jawline and tilting his face upwards by the chin. There was a warmness in his breast, and he knew that there was one thing he had to know no matter where he would find himself or how removed he would be forced to be.

“So you intend to go through with it?”

It was less of a question and more of a gentle supplication. Ciel stiffened at the words, hazy sapphire searching his butler’s features for the desperate hope and support that the demon allowed through. He faltered, scent softening one second, then closing off and crystallizing the next. He jerked his gaze away from Sebastian’s, shutting down whatever gentle thing had grown within him, leaving the demon with a sinking feeling.

“We’ve already gone this far, haven’t we?”

Blinking back the hurt, Sebastian allowed his hand to drop away; it was impossible to try and force past the mental barriers the earl erected, he’d only chase him farther out of reach. Still, he held on to the vague hint of hope in the single word, ‘we’. ‘We’ meant something. It meant that there could be an ‘our’ or an ‘us’. He nodded to his own conscious delusions, humming in agreement. “I suppose.” He offered neutrally. “But with the way things are, the frequency of the attacks will only worsen. They’ve discovered your whereabouts in a populated, polluted city that would be nigh impossible for any lesser demons to track you in. If we were to move elsewhere, it would only be a matter of time – .”

“We won’t run.”

Yet again, ‘we’, dancing about boastfully before the demon’s hopeful ears. He still had – for the time being, at least – a place in the Phantomhive’s life, and perhaps even (though he dared not think it outright) a place in the future life of their child. The intensity of Ciel’s conviction seared through him, and not for the first time, he transformed into an older being before the demon’s eyes.

“I refuse to bow to the whims of whatever lowly being that has chosen to make me their target. I may be…” he paused uncertainly, edging around the words. “Incapacitated, but I assure you, Sebastian, that I am far from allowing them to trample upon me. We will meet their advances head-on.”

There was a fluttering in the demon’s chest – three ‘we’s could not be a mistake – as he listened to the short declaration. No matter what the lord could devise for him, no matter how far he was forced to retreat, he would never forget the evening’s moments, the passions and convictions that they in some way shared. The fleeting notion that there was a togetherness in the resulting actions, that on some level he had been accepted and allowed to stay within the earl’s life even when it seemed so certain that he would be thrown out. A soothing warmth spread through him: there was still some sort of future for them, no matter how short or blackened and twisted. They were corrupted souls doomed to constant misfortunes and thrown into the fatal dance that they themselves accepted.

Ciel padded forward towards to parlour door, leading the butler into yet another number. “What I said before about retiring to my room was far from a lie.” He said sheepishly. “I… I am actually quite exhausted after this evening’s ordeal.”

Sebastian held wide the door, admitting a small smile of affection. Even if it left him bloody and broken, he would continue the macabre dance until he could deliver the peace that the earl thirsted for. He would give anything – everything – to satisfy those desires, to avenge those pains that he now felt within his own chest; he would destroy every last thing that inspired pain or fear or humiliation within his mate. But for the time being, he was contented to be the lapdog, the shepherd of safety that the Phantomhive so desperately needed. He followed loyally after the drowsy earl with gentle admonitions.

‘You’re so slight, darling; of course this has all been strenuous on you. In time, your energy will wane even further. Our kit will need as much as they can receive.’

A genuine smile that went unseen by Ciel spread over his face. “As to be expected.”

The stress and unfulfilled questions of the day hung back in the shadows of the room, watching with rapt carnivore attention as the earl clambered into bed and the candlelight was snuffed out. It waited for silence to descend, for the mustiness of dark to settle, for eyes to readjust. Sebastian sat in stillness upon the edge of his master’s bed, staring sightlessly to the floor. He felt the cruel observer as it winged in towards him, possessing him with their thoughts.

He had yet to receive a solid answer. Would Ciel keep their kit? And if not – gripped tight by his worries, he could not wriggle beyond the possibility – how would he chose to get rid of it? Humans could be horrid in their own right, and in their inability to conceive of the darkness of the demon world, they birthed far sicker creations. Would he settle for the humiliation that would come with calling for a doctor? Would he risk the rumors? He certainly didn’t care about his reputation, or, rather, what positive scraps were left of it. Would he take a drug? Imbibe in something poisonous to the small being within him?

‘We’ve come this far, haven’t we?’

The words replayed again and again, and with the attention of a surgeon he dissected every little part, examined their roots, and stitched them back together again. It was cryptic, woefully cryptic. Did the ‘we’ truly have significance? Was he simply reading what he wished to see? There was no definite answer. He felt like a prisoner awaiting his sentence.

It wasn’t his choice to make. It wasn’t his place. It wasn’t his right. It wasn’t his body. He was hopeless, utterly hopeless. As a demon, he had once held the leisure to come and go as he pleased, to fuck and drink and kill and steal if he wanted. When he wanted. It didn’t matter – nothing mattered. But the apathy was a bitter drink, living as the dregs of the world. So he had pursued something higher, something beyond himself. And found himself bound in servitude yet again. A fickle, petulant young master. A boy with a vendetta that couldn’t be dissuaded and a shredded sense of self preservation. The demon had smirked and scoffed, had ruined things on purpose just to enjoy the reaction, said things to see the shock. But the living being beneath the exterior craved to reach out: to comfort and seek comfort. There was something rare and precious within Ciel Phantomhive that he had never before encountered in any other being. There were still the remnants of innocence and kindness; those emotions that the damaged boy chose instead to hide around others. There, too, was perseverance, a diligence and maturity not befitting the fragile and emaciated body. Yet most remarkably was the loyalty and undying love for the honor of a family that could no longer offer him shelter or support.

Sebastian couldn’t remember his own parents; he had never thought to seek them out, either. He was a demon, and demons were despised. One kept their head down and hoped not to get killed for insolence. He had no interest in learning the gruesome end his own received. If he had ever had the chance to understand familial bonds, it was toward an old woman that he scarcely remembered. She had wrinkled and veiny hands and when she smiled small crow’s feet forked at the edges of her eyes. He remembered her laughter, and he remembered her tears. His first masters told him that she was too poor to care for him any longer. The black market for young demon servants was lucrative, after all.

Sometimes he wondered if he had ever truly been a child at all: quiet, obedient, fearful. Were those truly the attributes of a child? It hadn’t taken long for him to grow spiteful, distrusting. He had seen the world of his people, and that of reapers. Had seen the cheating, the (occasionally literal) backstabbing, the heartlessness. They had all taught him: no one loathed their relations more than reapers, cats were hated because they could take more than one mate, spiders killed their partners and children. ‘Family’ was no more than a generalized term that carried no more weight than ‘rug’ or ‘dirt’.

Then boredom and disgust had led him to Ciel Phantomhive, the child who fought for the honor of the deceased. For his family. Meeting the earl was like relearning the world inside and out. Things had different meanings, had different weights and scents and smells. They were both muted and brilliant: the limitations of humanity had recoloured everything with a fragile beauty. Weather could bring upon illness, flowers and butterflies were painted as things of beauty, riding horseback could bring both fatigue and satisfaction. All the millions of events were admired, analyzed, annotated. There was a beauty in the way humans appreciated.

Family had a different definition. Individuals watched out for one another, cared for one another, tended the sick and the old. They cried over another’s fears and pains, went out of their way to defend or protect. Cared for and sheltered their children with their very lives. There was a selflessness in this sort of ‘family’: something far more immortal than the agelessness of demons.

Some small spark of wonder had ignited in Sebastian. The walls of the world he knew had crumbled down and things weren’t as shallow as he had first believed. There was always another option, another definition, another emotion. There was the chance for him to recover the things that he had never had, to call another ‘family’ and feel affection along with it. So he delved into the richness of the human world, ardently worked to uncover its layers and secrets. Yet the closer he got to comprehension, the more answers he craved and the more his demonic palate dissipated.

Desire had led him to the trough, spite made him drink, but curiosity made him stay. He was no longer certain what he would do when the contract drew to a close. There were too many complications. And now a kit on the way. Their kit. Did he even have a right to claim parentage? The idea tasted bitter on his tongue. He had fulfilled an order: had escaped the punishments of disobedience, the biting pain of the seal on his hand, the slow bleeding out, the constricting of his organs little by little until they burst. He had shown neither cruelty nor affection; one he could no longer execute towards the earl, the other he was hesitant to show should he be pushed further away. He was a demon, yet he was tamed. He was a butler, and so he was ruled by boundaries. There was no room left for the feelings and opinions of an individual, those rights were stripped from him the second he had entered into the contract.

He truly was a prisoner.

Sheets rustled behind him, rousing him to the present. The insecurities scurried back into the shadows, chased away by his present concern for his master, who had sat up suddenly, hands curled about his head. The demon watched his mate a moment, taking in the feelings of anxiety and frustration. His chest twinged uncomfortably, pressing the hands that wished to console more firmly against his lap. “Why must you be so cruel, my love? You teach me about what is precious to you, and then rob me of the chance to experience it.”

Ciel brushed back a lock of hair absentmindedly, eyes trained on his knees. “Sebastian,” he whispered. “Lay beside me.” He paused, licking his dry lips. “I want you to sleep beside me from now on.”

The demon froze, almost too shocked to feel elation. It was a small victory, but a victory nonetheless. Wordlessly he rose and removed his vest, choosing to keep his gloves as he slipped through the buttonholes. Toeing off his shoes, he placed the folded garment upon a chair. He could feel the earl’s eyes upon him as he moved about, loosening the topmost buttons of his dress shirt.

            After a moment’s silent deliberation, he slid under the sheets, deciding that lying on top of them would prevent the earl from cocooning as he was recently apt to do. Ciel settled back down into their warmth, rolling back over on his side, lids already fluttering shut. Sebastian allowed himself a brief glance of the beautiful and worried face before lowering his own eyes. The linens, although fresh, clung with the familiarity of Ciel’s scent, the soft hint of sugared éclairs only further sweetest by pregnancy. Within a month or two their kit would develop its own scent; the demon smiled to himself as he imagined what it might be like.

            A child of ambiguous gender filled his mind, rosy cheeks still chubby with baby fat but undeniably possessing the delicate bone structure of the earl. Wispy hair encircled its face, ebony black and soft as down. Beneath dark lashes peered crimson eyes, subtler than his own and possessing the warmth and emotion of its biological mother.

            Drowsily Sebastian opened his eyes, lulled to calmness by his own dream and the shallow breaths of his sleeping mate. His lips fell into a despairing smile. ‘Will you grant me this?’ He wondered, fingers crooking forward. Gently, he extended his hand until it cupped the warm flesh of the slightly distended belly. The earl sighed in his sleep, shifting ever so slightly to allow the demon access. The smile became lit with affection. Gingerly, gloved fingers rubbed small circles over the clothed skin, pads massaging the sensitive bulge. He had caused it; a restrained sense of pride filled him at the thought. His caresses grew gentler.

            As sleep came to reclaim him, he let his palm rest against his mate’s abdomen, whispering softly, “May I be your father, little one?”

            Sebastian rubbed the sleep from his eyes and patted his hair down in to submission, fighting down the embarrassment that threatened to colour his cheeks. He had meant to be up hours prior, as was his custom, yet it seemed that the warmth and comfort of the bed had seduced his senses far too thoroughly. Agni, for his part, kept his benevolent spirit and had decided not to question why he had walked in on his fellow butler asleep beside the earl.

            Biting down another shamed apology and the desire to justify himself, the demon tried once more to assess the situation at hand. “A visitor, you said?” he prompted, glancing out a window to the lightening sky above. The blankets of gray morning were receding to the canvas of pinks and blues. “Who on earth comes to call this early?”

            “It’s a mystery to me as well.” The Bengal butler frowned. “Her cabby walked her card to the front door, but they’re simply waiting out by the coach; I put it in the receiver out in the foyer. They seem…” he trailed off pointedly, eyeing his friend. “Well, different. I thought it would be best if you could evaluate the situation.”

            “You mean to say that they aren’t human?” Sebastian queried. The other man blushed almost instantly.

            “Ah, I meant that in the nicest terms possible, Seb –.”

            “I know what you meant, and it was a valid concern.” The demon replied coolly. His tone softened as they turned into the front entry. “You heard for yourself what I am; I know you’ve been suspicious of me in the past yet even now you choose not to act any differently towards me. For that I thank you.”

            “Of course.” Agni smiled, pausing by a circular table crowned with a bouquet of daffodils. “It is an adjustment, I admit. But… you are still the same Sebastian as ever, are you not? I would still like to consider you as my friend.” They exchanged appreciative looks and the butler indicated towards a metal tray. “There’s the card I was talking of; what do you make of it?”

            Sebastian picked the thing up: it was gaudy, as far as his aesthetics were concerned, but undoubtedly connoting both wealth and power. Fluffy pink fringe clung from the cards edges, a luxury only afforded by the most socially elite. Its face was intricate, as society mandated of aristocratic humans – Sebastian, for his part, was thankful that the French invention had never quite caught on in the demon realm; he could only imagine the sort of ornamentation his kind would choose to decorate their calling cards with.

            Carefully he examined the wreath of printed flowers: lilacs, roses, and forget-me-nots wound together in an ornate wreath. In their center was a scene of a pond with cattails, along whose surface floated a majestic swan with pure black feathers. Beneath was a banner with French written in a curled hand, “Je te penserai à.”

            “I think of thee.” He translated under his breath. His fellow butler crowded in as he lifted the wing of the swan to reveal the name of the caller: Mlle. Cosette Madeline Brun. A scent as smoky as sin clung to the scrap, and beyond it the human senses could pick up the spritzes of her perfume, the earthiness of neroli and thyme coupling with a sweet orange flower. Assaulted by the isolated scent, Sebastian realized that he had encountered it before, slicked into the plumage of the snatcher, overpowered by the scent of roses and decay. So here was the other succubus.

            “What is that?” Agni asked, recoiling from the pungent paper.

            “Eau de Mille Fleurs.” The demon replied, closing the scrap and glaring at the card. “It’s a popular brand of Houbigant; it’s rather clever of her to cover her scent that way.”

            “Her… scent?” the Indian echoed, careful not to sound offensive. “Is that something you can… do? Detect scents?”

            “Mnhmn.” Sebastian hummed dismissively, noticing the bent upper corner. “How kind of her to denote that she came in person.” he scowled, stepping over to a large window. Parting the blind, he examined the sleek black buggy parked just before the manor’s gates. Inside sat a loudly dressed woman with delicate features, curly brown hair falling down in wisps from beneath a ridiculous feathered hat. She turned to her cabby, unaware of her onlooker and said something that made her laugh shrilly. The driver appeared to grumble to himself, tugging his suit over his paunch and walked around the side of the cab to stroke the side of an elegant Welsh Cob. The horse shook its giant head, unnerved by the touch it couldn’t see around its blinders.

            Sebastian drew away from the window with interest. ‘I’d have suspected a young man done up in leathers. Collared, too. Didn’t want to scandalize the poor humans, did we?’

            “What are they?” Agni asked, watching the other butler from the foyer table. The demon immediately saw the tenseness in the man’s shoulders, the worry creasing the corners of his eyes.

            “She’s a succubus, undoubtedly.” He began, chucking the card distastefully back in the receiver. “But her cabby is a human; you can tell because they’re using a horse.”

            The Indian blinked in confusion at the awkward statement, but said nothing.

            “I don’t believe that she means any harm, otherwise she would have just attacked straight off. However, she is being… insistent. This matter has to do with the young master and myself; I would not worry about it were I you. Do your best to keep Master Soma occupied in the meanwhile. I don’t anticipate any trouble for now.”

            The two parted ways, both preoccupied with their own thoughts. Sebastian slipped back into the bedchamber undetected; quietly going about preparations for this master’s awakening. The curtains were tied back, the brushes cleaned, collars pressed. The black leather boots propped up in the corner were laced with ribbons of garnet satin and the day’s outfit was laid out neatly against the armoire. Sebastian had just returned from the washroom when Ciel began to stir, and inwardly he lamented the fact that he could not at least have tea and toast on hand for his mate.

            A firm knock at the door stole the attentions of both of the room’s occupants; the earl jolting awake with confused interest. Sebastian inclined his head towards the door, scenting a mingle of mango and chai before turning back to the washbowl. A thin smile pressed to his lips; Agni knew better than to intrude on his duties, meaning only that Soma was awake and eager to launch the day’s activities. It was hard to remember that the energetic prince was already twenty.

            “Master Ciel?” the foreign butler persisted.

            The young man in question blinked blearily up at the demon, wordlessly supplicating an explanation. Sebastian sighed, dropping his hand from his hair as small droplets of water worked their way to his scalp. Feeling relatively groomed, he leant in towards the window, gesturing for his master to look.

            “It appears we have a visitor.” He said, watching calmly as his mate clambered out of bed to peer out beyond the curtains. A small note of panic came from him, and the demon stilled, attempting to send as much subconscious comfort as possible. When Ciel spun around, eyes searching for clarification, the butler continued. “She doesn’t seem to be looking for trouble.” He placated, expression turning darkly sweet. “I assure you that if she was, there would be a great deal more blood.”

            The tension in the earl’s shoulders fled and he scoffed, disregarding his butler for the other just out of sight. “I’m awake, Agni.” He called, completely composed. “I’ll be out in a moment, I need to dress. Please go out to escort our guest into the parlour.”

            “Of course.” The other replied agreeably. Sebastian could hear the light scuffling of two pairs of feet as Soma tried his best to surreptitiously follow his butler.

            “Do you think she’ll be willing to cooperate?” his own master asked from the bedside, bare legs swung over the edge as he secured his eye patch as best as he could manage. Sebastian hummed, placing the clothing from the armoire over the bedspread. Its dark blacks and reds stood out against the plush linen, simple lace already pressed into immaculate pleats. It was a selfish thing, his choice in the outfit. The style was simple, yet elegant enough for receiving company, the jacket tailored into crisp, masculine lines. He hoped it would be enough to convey the things he wouldn’t be able to say. The colour scheme matched his own, the deep garnets boldly declaring the blood connection between them. They were bonded together, and Sebastian wasn’t willing to let the succubus see any room for separation.

            Pulling on his gloves, the demon gently extracted his mate from his nightshirt, folding the thin garment and setting it aside. Easing woolen socks up to their thin garters, he contemplated the question. “We’ll just have to wait and see,” he answered lightly. “Though I assume you figured that she was not hostile, seeing as you invited her in, young master.” The quirk of his brow earned him another scoff, and he folded the resulting warm feeling into himself out of Ciel’s view. A bluff to hide the embarrassment; he had trusted Sebastian to protect him despite his own anxieties.

            Sebastian continued his work in comfortable silence, folding in the edges of the dark dress shirt as he fastened the trousers at the other’s waist. The gentle scent of pregnancy swelled from the still flat abdomen, lingering on the demon’s gloves as he arranged the clothing into proper alignment. He straightened before the young man, amused by the clumsy way the eye patch had been secured, nimbly straightening the strings. A soft blush grew across the earl’s face as he keened ever so slightly into the gentle touches of Sebastian’s fingers combing through his hair.

            As though remembering himself, the teen jerked away, the blush only deepening. “Don’t touch me so easily…” he grumbled without conviction. He turned his head and flumped back down onto the mattress; Sebastian knew the body language well enough to look away, kindly sparing his master further embarrassment. “Is there anything I should take into consideration when talking with this…?” he broke off pointedly, extending a leg as Sebastian bound tight the lacing.

            “Succubus.” The demon supplied.

            “Succubus.” The younger echoed. The fear trickled back, married with a sense of awe. Sebastian pursed his lips into a grimace. There was still so much for his young mate to learn.

            “And yes,” he continued, slipping on the second boot. “You should make no threats towards her unless she makes any towards us or –.” The choked back the remaining words, eyes flickering down to rest over the earl’s stomach.

            “Or our kit.” He finished internally.

            “The most important thing would be for my lord to hear her out; it could very well lead to a favorable compromise.”

            “Although I’ve yet to meet a full-blooded succubus worth trusting.” He silently amended, setting his teeth to keep from growling. Unaware of the demon’s inner turmoil, the young lord eased off the bed with a nod, trailing after his butler as they set off down the hallway. From the second he had opened the door, the other being’s presence had stolen over the demon, pricking his blood into a frenzy. Sex, incense, and opiates – the basic scent of all succubae – danced up to assault his senses, tendrils swirling about his body, ushering him closer. Coy subconscious tricks that had never worked against him.

            Worriedly, he glanced down at Ciel, searching for signs of enchantment behind his composed façade. There, the dilated pupils, the tremulous heartbeat, the same sound of a cornered infant hare. Hands subconsciously brushed across arms, trying to fight the illusions of cold. Sebastian clenched his jaw as they approached the drawing room. The succubae – Cosette, the card had read – was toying with them already, using just enough charm to summon them forward; any human in the household would feel that she alone was the one source of warmth and livelihood.

            Already he could detect her trilling laughter doused in pheromone and Houbigant perfume. As he clasped the door handle and swung it open, ribbons of heat blossomed forward as though they had stepped out into the brilliant spring sunlight. Master and servant entered, letting the door click shut at their heels.

            Opposite them sat a luxurious red loveseat with clawed chestnut feet upon whose cushions were perched Soma and his unusual puppeteer. She was a delicate looking creature with porcelain pale skin, made paler by the soft shades of brown and coral she wrapped herself in. Her laughter brought a blush of pale rose to her cheeks, her small nose wrinkling in amusement. The spotted feathers of cocks clung about her breasts, edging the hem of her bodice, and when she inclined her head in conversation, the soft curls of her hair slipped down between the cleft of exposed flesh. She drew a teacup to her painted pink lips and the prince’s eyes followed as though drunk on the sight alone. He mumbled something incoherently and she giggled girlishly, pulling the china back down before her in a way that belied her true nature. As though pulled along by a string, Soma followed its descent, watching the swirling amber contents that were then nestled between the succubae’s generous assets.

            The woman turned in her seat and beamed at the silent pair, the picture of Victorian perfection were it not for her unsettling disregard of blatant objectification. “Oh, la!” she called with a gentle French accent. “There you are Earl Phantomhive! I was just telling young Soma about my experiences in the French countryside. Lovely selection of tea, by the way!” She smiled once more, gesticulating with her teacup in slightly less gentile manner. “Please sit, please sit!” the brunette begged appealingly, blushing as she indicated to the surrounding furniture. “Don’t mind me, I feel awful about imposing.”

            Sebastian forced a smile as her gaze swept over him, their eyes meeting for a tense second before she continued on in her girlish manner, replacing her cup to its equally miniature saucer. There was nothing to suggest sharp wit nor cruelness in her grey eyes, and the demon relaxed infinitesimally, knowing at the very least that she was the pawn of the two unusual huntresses. “Shall I shoot the messenger?” he thought to himself wryly.

            “Mademoiselle Brun is visiting on behalf of her benefactress.” Soma announced, as if answering Sebastian unvoiced queries. He blinked owlishly – blithely unaware of his suspiciously askew vest – as though thinking very hard before gesturing to the earl with a cup of his own. “She said she had business to attend to with you, Ciel?”

            “Oooh, la! No, no,” the succubus cooed, blushing again. “It’s perfectly fine to call me Cosette.” Soma turned to her and chuckled shyly, once again intent on her every move. The demon watched through narrowed eyes, uncertain whether the female was an unusually good actress or genuinely flustered by basic decorum – though, given her specie, he figured respectful etiquette came few and far between. Her smoky eyes turned to Ciel and he stiffened, fighting the urge to place himself between her sway and his mate.

            “Why don’t you have a seat here, young earl?” she called invitingly. “It would be a pleasure to warm up to one another before we get down to business.”

            Sebastian felt the younger’s hesitation, no doubt unaware of the imperceptible way the woman shifted her elbows towards each other as she leaned towards him, feathered hem tickling the swell of her breasts. Warm up to one another indeed. Ciel shot his butler a glance, as though asking silent permission. Clenching his jaw until the nick of fangs brought coppery blood to his mouth, the demon gave a curt nod, fixing the succubus with a warning glare all the while. With uncertain steps, the earl padded over to the empty space on the loveseat, folding himself on to the cushion. The simple act brought a trace of amusement to the tense butler: in ways, the teenager was still very much a virgin.

            Cosette stretched a little, rolling her spine more than necessary – a move not unnoticed by the far less innocent Soma – and parted the feminine black lace ascot that hung from a choker at her neck. “Is it warm in here?” she asked vapidly, fanning herself with a hand dressed in fingerless gloves of the same material. “I’m feeling a trifle warm.” A murmur of assent followed her statement during which Ciel shuffled awkwardly in his seat. The demon watched intently, thankful for the lasting sobriety of his mate.

            “Now, as I was saying,” Cosette prompted conversationally. “This tea is absolutely delicious. Peppermint, if I am not mistaken?”

            “The finest that London has to offer, my lady.” The demon replied, a divine feeling of power and rage stealing over him. He could feel his pupils flicker, the backs of his eyes burning with pricks of demonic energy as the urge to react entirely on instinct alone dominated his rational mind. It was rare that he felt so deluged by his blood, a product of the rawest emotions and desires; it frequently won him his way, among other things. For a brief moment his aesthetics danced on the razor thin edge of wanting to fuck the woman and wanting to rip her into thousands of fleshy, unrecognizable bits. She quirked a mirrored smile in reply, letting her eyelids become heavy and heady. A manicured finger reached out to toy with the fan folded neatly in her lap, drawing the tip along the contour of her thigh, creasing her skirt in its path. The image of an innocent girl fell as resolutely as the familiar shush of discarded clothes, a sultry woman with a honeyed voice emerging as she tossed back her sausage curls and pressed her breasts together before him.

            “How delicious it is.” She crooned huskily, allowing her accent to thicken as she inclined herself further over the coffee table, bodice slipping centimeters lower and lower. A devious smile curled over her mouth as she pulled the teacup beneath wicked lips. A single bare finger rasped over the golden rim, dipping ever so slightly in and out of opening. “I would expect no less from a… ” She parted with a giggle that rolled her body forward. “A butler of your caliber. I do wonder what other services you have to offer, rather than just preparing tea.” With lusty eyes locked she parted her lips with a swipe of pink tongue, tracing the interiors with sinful promises before sipping down more hot fluid.

            From where he had relocated across the room Soma released a pained whimper, watching hungrily with every intent to chase the soft appendage regardless of company. Ciel recoiled from the woman’s side, unaffected by her wiles. Disgust rippled from him, combined with hints of an emotion Sebastian had scented on demonesses whose mates had wandering eyes. He noted the white knuckled fists that were balled around the fabric of trousers and the way the earl’s mouth had flattened itself into a terse line. Curious, he continued the charade, addressing the woman who held no more sway over him than he had over her.

            “I apologize deeply, my lady.” He sighed, masquerading a woeful expression. It quickly evanesced to a sinful grin that pinned the suddenly attentive earl. “But I am afraid that my other services are strictly for my master.” The mysterious emotion – could it have been envy? – disappeared, quickly replaced by embarrassment as Ciel turned his head to avoid the demon’s intense gaze. Cosette giggled charmingly, suddenly evoking the spirit of a young girl yet again as she nudged her tea back on to the coffee table.

            “Which is exactly why I am here today.” She smiled, as though implying the arrangement of a croquet match rather than the potentially brutal desecration of a sacred pregnant vessel. She directed her attention towards the prince, giving him a winning look. “Soma, darling, I don’t mean to be a pest, but would you be a love and give us some private time?”

            “U-uhm. Okay.” The young man nodded, eyes glazed over in dozy ecstasy. He rose from his seat languidly, moving a few steps before pausing and blinking at her with vague confusion. Sebastian inwardly groaned and wished his fellow butler the best in dealing with the intoxicated Bengal.

            “Go, lovie.” Cosette urged, flicking a single digit towards the door. Soma jerked as though physically displaced, nodding with a dopey smile like he had just been promised her accompaniment in exchange for her compliance. With one last wistful glance at her assets, he closed the doors behind him. Sebastian exhaled a breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding, relaxing in an atmosphere significantly less populated by pheromones. Cosette, too, eased in her seat with a dainty sigh, fixing her expression with yet another innocent smile that were growing more and more unsettling.

            She whirled around the face the earl, cupping a palm above his knee and giggling as he withdrew from the intimate touch. The corners of his lips curled into a sneer, but the succubus paid no mind to his disgust, patting the soft interior of his leg with wandering fingers. “Oh, don’t be that way.” She said beguilingly. “I can tell you’re unsettled, you really should relax.”

            “Why should I?” the earl retorted, glowering as he wrenched his body away from the woman’s touch. Filled with indignation, he pinned back his shoulders, looking the spitting image of the youthful man whose portraits filled the mansion. Sebastian allowed himself a small smile of wonder; Vincent would be proud of his son, and the undertaker, he knew, would as well. The fierceness of Ciel’s tirade continued. “You enter my estate uninvited and attempt to treat me like an old friend when you sent your pet to murder me just a day before. Why shouldn’t I be unsettled?”

            “Well!” the slight woman huffed, tossing back her head and crossing her arms beneath her breasts in indignation. “So much for attempting to put you at ease. Though I shouldn’t be surprised. Carriers are usually impervious to the charms of others of our race. It’s all because of that lovely little beastie inside of you.”

            A swell of infinite rage crashed over the demon; the blood filling his mouth had no doubt stained his teeth and he could feel the protesting pops of seams where gloves gave way to the merciless intent of elongating claws. Every muscle in his body strained and ached, begging him into action, yet he remained placid, willing his face into an unreadable mask that he had learned to adopt so well under the heavy hands of his first masters. He would endure. So long as she made no move, he would endure. He was, after all – blood differences aside – no more than a butler, and it was his duty to remain as such until enacted by his master to become the lethal weapon he truly was.

            Ciel’s eyes were upon him: whether they were begging for support or for direction, he was uncertain. He returned the look with utmost calm, refusing to blur the lines of their already tangled relations. He noticed the hand cradled over the teen’s belly; the subconscious act of a true mother. He felt his heart beat off kilter as it warmed to the image: ‘beastie’, ‘ingrate’, ‘monster’, ‘wretch’ – they were terms he had learned to ignore altogether. Growing up as the servant to aristocratic reapers – a class of being superior to his own in every societal and capable way – he had become accustomed to such curses and had been labeled with far worse. For the first time he felt the protective wrath that came with being a father. He could bear the hatred of others, but he’d be damned if he allowed his own child to endure the same depreciating experiences. The conviction stung more when he knew how uncertain his own role was in their kit’s future.

            “Endanger my mate, bitch, and I will happily litter this room with your carcass. You will not steal from me those which I love, and I will kill whoever it takes to protect our child.”

            He bored into her grey eyes just long enough to make her shift uncomfortably before addressing her. “It was the reason you came here, was it not?” He could taste the poison slipping into the otherwise neutral words, or perhaps it was simply the copper tang of blood. Truly, he was blessed with genetics that allowed him to brutalize his poor tongue without consequence.

            Cosette scoffed at his inquiry, turning from him nonetheless as though unnerved by the intensity of his glare. “You really should sit down; it makes me terribly uncomfortable when people stand about.” She pointed her fan towards an opposing couch, fingers buried in her curled locks. “Vite, vite s’il vous plait!”

            The demon tensed, refusing to obey orders from anyone else, particularly not from a vapid French nymphomaniac. Yet his legs strained from withheld energy, so he inclined his head to his mate with a pleading expression. With near exasperation, Ciel waved him to the couch and so he went to it, elegantly seating himself upon its cushions. It was an improvement from his prior position, but still much too far from the mate he yearned to protect and comfort.

            “Now!” Cosette chirped, clapping her hands together. “First and foremost I would like to apologize; my benefactress and I agree that we acted rashly in the face of your situation. It was not our intention to come across as … assertive.”

            Sebastian snorted quietly. “Bullshit.”

            “You pet bird nearly impaled me.” Ciel interjected flatly, clearly carrying the same sentiment. “Twice.”

            The succubus winced and genuine hurt crossed her scent, causing the demon to lift a brow at the unusual reaction. She, too, reacted in the way an offended mother might. “Be that as it may,” she continued anxiously, “We were not attempting to end your life. We decided it would be much easier for everyone to take the cambion out of the picture. You see, they’re a notoriously tricky sort of breed –.”

            “You decided.” Ciel interjected crossly. He rose from his seat, chin aloft as he glared down at the woman. “I apologize Mademoiselle Brun, but I believe what I do with my… cambion,” he supplied awkwardly. “Should be my choice and my choice alone, rather than that of a complete stranger – however benevolent their intentions were.” He finished, crossing the room to settle in his regular armchair, arranging himself maturely with his face resting speculatively over a loose fist. “Though I hardly believe you were merely trying to take a load off of my back. The idea of the blood of your esteemed kind mixing with that of a lowly human’s disgusts you, does it not?”

            Instantly Sebastian surrendered to his own cruel amusement, delighted in the wit and observational prowess of his mate. Together they watched the succubus squirm and blush, irritation and shock swirling in her enlarged eyes. “So direct…” she muttered, fingering the lace of her fan as though genuinely perplexed how to proceed. “You’ve backed me into quite a corner here, Earl.” She said, voice cold. In a second the sugared tone returned, climbing in octave as she repossessed the role of an ignorant young woman. “I hardly wish to sound rude, but I believe you’ve hit the nail on the head – it’s nothing against you personally! If anything, I’m doing you a favor! If anyone else of our kind were to sniff you and your little darling out, it would be quite messy. We don’t condemn your relationship in the least,” – the sneering tug of her lips suggested that mutts were indeed fine with other mutts – “Merely the presence of the cambion – it was our intentions to eliminate it without the human public becoming aware of our presence. You see, many don’t accept these sorts of lasting relationships between a human and one of our kind – it’s quite vulgar, really, the things they’ve done – and neither you nor the cambion would survive the ordeal.”

            “‘Lasting relationships’?” Ciel scoffed, and the demon couldn’t help but recoil a bit from repulsed tone of his mate. “What are you implying, Mademoiselle Brun?”

            The woman froze, blinking and looking about like a startled deer. She sent Sebastian an imploring look, only to be met with smirking apathy, and turned towards the earl’s equally indifferent façade. She paused a moment, frowning down at the gloved hands that folded and unfolded in her lap, worrying her skirts and fan. The demon could tell she was scenting them, perplexed when she confirmed the scent of matehood on the younger. “W-well, I was merely assuming that since you’ve kept the child this far, and your…” she waved her hand vaguely towards the butler. “Your… friend has remained by your side without abandoning you, that you were in some sort of – you know, besides your lovely little contract that is all too apparent due to smell –.”

            “Well, you know what they say about assuming, Mademoiselle.” Ciel interjected coldly, straightening in his seat. Instantly the woman reddened, deeply embarrassed despite her own improper nature. Her hands balled into tiny fists and she grappled for words. “Y-you embarrass me so, Earl Phantomhive. I implore you to stop your teasing.”

            “If I may say so,” Ciel smiled darkly. “I’m not teasing in the least, ma’am.” Sebastian watched with interest as the earl twisted before him, the first reactions to the child’s blood taking hold as a heartless laugh shook him. The succubus edged away from him, and the demon wondered what fate would await her when she returned completely humiliated and empty handed. “Apart from your apology, Mademoiselle, for what else do we owe the pleasure of your presence?”

            “Well,” Cosette replied hesitatingly, attempting to regain her dignity as she built herself up. The dress slipped lower down her torso, exacerbating her already top heavy proportions and the hair was falling out of its pins in wispy chunks. Glossy eyed with lips worried pink from nervous teeth, she uttered out, “I was here to present our terms.”

            “Terms?” Sebastian repeated, returning the phrase with a thinly quirked brow. “And, pray tell Mademoiselle, what would these terms be?”

            “My benefactress and I agreed that you two have exactly two weeks from today – that’s November the fifteenth, dear heart –” she noted, sniffling into a handkerchief fetched from somewhere within her bodice. “Two weeks from today to come upon a decision. The first: you can personally eliminate the cambion and we will leave you two be as long as you promise that it will not happen again.” She finished with surprising force, smoky eyes hardening to cool slate as she calmly refolded the square of linen.

            The earl faltered at the sudden change in her mood, feeling perhaps for the first time the true danger of the chained hurricane at his side. “And the second option?” he queried.

            “My benefactress as well as myself and my pet will personally eliminate both you and the cambion.” She answered coolly, rising from the loveseat and brushing imaginary contaminants from her skirts. When she rose her head to look at the pair, the illusions of amiability and gentility vanished, replaced by a sneering lip and irises heated with contempt. “No exceptions.” She grit out. “We do not allow such vile spawn to taint our race, good Earl. I assure you that if you send anyone to attack myself, my benefactress, or my darling little harpy that the parlay will end. It won’t be only your life on the line, my dear.” A crazed light flickered back through her features and the room grew slightly warm as she repossessed herself. “Your friend Soma is purely human, is he not?” she crooned, running a hand girlishly through her silken hair. “And I’m fairly certain you have a lovely little army of fragile human beings back at your larger estate, correct?”

            Beaming victoriously, she crossed the room with dancing little steps, collecting a luxurious fur stole and feathered hat from their location on the rack. Sebastian smiled down at her, pleased by the small jump of surprise his sudden change in location inspired in her, taking the effects in to his own hands. “Allow me, Mademoiselle.” He indicated with all of the grace of his position, swinging the heavy mink about the succubus’ tiny shoulders. “Master, I’ll show Mademoiselle Brun out to her coach.” He explained before addressing the woman directly. “If you’d follow me?”

            The woman elicited a delighted gasp, latching on to the arm he offered her and stepping through the door he held dutifully open. “Finally, a true gentleman! I still have no idea why someone such as you would stoop to an agreement such as this –.” Deliberately, the demon shoved the door closed behind them, sparing one warning look over his shoulder for his mate not to follow.

            The latching of the door brought the woman closer to his side as he turned her down one hallway and along the next. “Honestly, though.” She pressed, turning bashful eyes up to his stoic expression. “What benefits can you possibly hold in a human wasteland such as this? The promise of one, delicious, well-earned meal? Why, without all of… this –.” She said, waving grandly to the approaching foyer. “Well you’d be free as a bird, wouldn’t you? A true demon, untethered by obligations and redundant, demeaning chores. Think of it, dear heart, of that freedom. You could have your pick of meals; reapers these days are so careless, it’s nothing to pick up dinner on the way to a club or a theatre. Why, I was on my way to the opera just the other night and –.”

            “I have no interest in souls.” The demon cut in, whirling his partner down the stairs. “Not any longer, at any rate. It is not a choice I intend on amending, either.”

            “A-ah, la, well…” the succubus blinked, taken aback. “There’s more to it than simply that, of course.” She added, voice turning to a subtle purr. The butler pulled open the front doors and they stepped out together – still in the mockery of a dance – into the November chill. “These humans, they can’t possibly understand you… they certainly can’t placate you, now can they? That earl-pet of yours, he’s rather cute, but he still has such a long while to come in to his own. A pretty face, but he’s still only a child; you need a partner more suited to your needs, more generous and giving, more… experienced.”

            The demon turned his face down towards hers, subconsciously aware of the charming toxins she was emitting, her receptive body pressed intimately against his own as they made their way through the front gardens. He paused them, regaining control. “I’m not looking for a dispenser in which to slake my lust.”

            The succubus pouted coquettishly, extending her body towards him, the feathers of her enormous hat tickling the contours of his face. “You hurt my feelings, dear butler, and here I was only trying to help.” Her lips perked into a coy smile at the demon’s clear irritation.

            “Explain yourself, you’re talking in circles.” He demanded warily. “What is it that you want now?”

            “Don’t be that way.” Cosette insisted, caressing his cheek with a gloved palm. “Your anger only makes you more appealing, and we are in public.” She allowed her lids to droop, voice rumbling to a sultry alto. “Say what you wish, honey, but the truth of the matter is, you need me. That useless mate of yours is too stubborn to take a good deal when he sees one – you don’t want the fate he’s chosen for himself and that precious abomination of yours, do you? I can see the tenseness in your shoulders; let me work that out for you. You can solve this all yourself, you know: become my benefactress’ butler and we promise to leave your broken little toy and his welp alone. Well, for a time, that is. You’d all win that way.”

            Sebastian released a small growl and turned from her grasp. Cosette laughed airily and trotted up to his side, cocking her head to the side as she studied his stormy features, fingers languidly inching along his spine. “You know it to be true, dear heart. You would get the freedoms a being like you deserves and your petty little human won’t die. My benefactress and I complete our mission and get to enjoy your company… and oh how we’d love to enjoy your company.” She crooned, molding to his chest. “So what do you say, mn? Won’t you join us?”

            Sebastian gave a humorless smile, wrapping his hands about her frail arms until the tips of his claws snagged at the fabrics covering them. The succubus quirked a brow in lucid amusement, trying to decipher the intent in his ruby eyes.

“Allow me to illustrate, Mademoiselle. You interest me just enough to be fuckable; your innocent act is as annoying as it is appealing and let’s face it, you don’t take much convincing for a man to have his way with you. But there is one thing that you are, and that is crystal clear: a threat. You are making the very ignorant and arrogant decision to cross me and my family and have aligned yourself with a mistress who cares no more what happens to you than the table scraps she pushes around her plate at the end of a meal. You are disposable, replaceable trash. This pitiful attempt to work out a one sided bargain on charm alone just reveals you for what you are: vermin. You should keep in mind that I am also the butler of this household and this family and it is my duty to eliminate any pest that creeps past the threshold in any way that I see fit. Trust me, rodent, should you wander into my claws again I will be more than happy to remove that obnoxious little voice box of yours cord by cord. Do I make myself clear?”

Cosette stared back, pale face drained to a ghastly puce. “Y-you!” she snarled, shoving the butler away from herself with alarming force. “You absolute wretch. You will rue this, mark me, you will regret your very words!” The demon righted himself as he watched with building satisfaction as she stormed off to her buggy, sharply dealing curses to her driver.

Content, he pulled his vest back in to place and turned on heel back towards the direction of the house. Ciel stood plastered to a front window, and even without the physical barriers, he could feel his mate’s swirling jealousy and confusion. “What did she say?” he demanded, as though the words alone willed the demon back in to the parlour.

“Nothing of value.” Sebastian sighed dismissively. “The only thing that comes out of that woman’s mouth is useless drivel. She was under the impression she would be able to make some sort of backwards deal with me in order to secure both your life and the child’s.” he amended truthfully. It was days of such caliber that drove the demon to seek out the small stash of saké the former steward had kept hidden in their office, no matter how small his tolerance was. He nearly groaned aloud at the realization that his day was only just beginning.

Ciel fidgeted at the unfinished narrative, anxiously knitting his fingers together. “And… what did you say?”

“I refused, of course.” Sebastian shrugged. Reality perched upon his shoulder, nipping him with its sharp teeth and forcing him to recant. “Unless my lord would –.”

“No.” the teen cut across, staring fixedly at the checkered tile. Fear was interlaced with determination as his hands unhinged themselves and dropped to his sides, ever so slightly passing before his abdomen. The act was enough to banish Sebastian’s perception of reality and a spark of hope ignited in his chest once more. “We won’t succumb to their frivolous deals. Absolutely not. Do you understand?”

“Yes, my lord.” Sebastian grinned as he folded himself neatly on one knee, not overlooking the glorious return of the simple expression ‘we’. “I shall do everything in my power to fulfill your wishes concerning this situation, whatever they may be.”

“Good.” The earl replied simply, signaling for the demon to rise. Satisfied, he turned to exit, shoulders set a little straighter. Sebastian watched from afar, filling with pride at his mate’s determination. Emotion caught in his throat. From afar. He was always doing everything from afar. For what purpose? Imaginary lines drawn by society? By their own fears of pain and rejection? He was sick of just watching.

He paced forward, gently capturing his mate’s shoulder in his hand. “And what might those wishes be, my lord?” he implored. Ciel froze, heart racing. He never looked back, nor did he shrug off the small act of affection. It was more than Sebastian could hope for. The next three words sent his heart soaring.

“I’ll keep it.”
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Together Again