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Gilded	By : tinkerheck Category: > Black Butler (Kuroshitsuji ???) Views: 3151 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 1
Disclaimer: I do not own Kuroshitsuji, aka Black Butler. I make no money from this fanfiction.

Chapter List
- 7
- 8
- 9
++++++++ Please see disclaimer & story notes in chapter one ++++++++

++++++++ chapter notes ++++++++

I fly beta-less. Please forgive the typos.

As always, thanks for reading!

 

+

Gilded

Chapter 8

+

Thanksgiving came and went, and it had been busy as… Well. You know.

The food had been glorious! I was in my prime, cooking and polishing and arranging and cleaning and tending. Oh, the desserts I made! And me with an entire houseful of grateful, hungry people. What luxury.

I got to arrange a pool party, finally. Sutcliff showed up for it and he was quite the entertainer. The students loved it; in fact, they loved the entire week, all thanks to my Mistress giving me the freedom to handle things as I wished. There was only one bizarre incident during the entire break, with a student who did not end up on the short list of her friends that I was all right with.

His name was David Taylor, and as Gilda relayed, she “thought he was okay. Guess not. He was one of Linda’s ex-gaggle, he seemed really sincere when he asked if he could come over for the break.”

“Pardon me?”

“You know, he was all humble and so pathetic with not being able to go home, he’s from Canada and that’s like a million miles away–”

“No, I mean the–” I sighed. Gilda tore off on tangents so thoroughly she now had me interrupting myself. “Mistress, really. The boy practically invited himself. You need to inform me about suspicious behavior like that. Just think of what he might actually have been up to.”

He’d behaved oddly before the actual day of the feast, staring at Gilda and occasionally myself, wandering into rooms he had no business being in. So what he ‘might’ have been up to was doing something to harm my Young Miss. During the tree-trimming party, I’d found him upstairs alone, in my private rooms, looking for something on my desk. When caught, he claimed he was looking for the library and thought that my room was it, but of course he smelled of lies. I informed him, politely, that he would be leaving that night. He did not put up a fight.

I’d have to keep an eye out for that one.

Uncle Rafael and the staff had attended the feast, as planned, along with a few wayward members of the Fernandez clan. They were all either salt of the earth, friendly types like Rafael himself, or dignified and pleasant, such as Fortunado.

There was a brief report after the meal, in the kitchen away from the eyes and ears of the relatives and students who busied themselves with the tree-trimming. Our staff was bleeding Norman Bellows’ firm dry. He was nearing bankruptcy, and we already had a lot of cash that needed laundering. Michael and Evelyn, who were growing quite close, already had half of it moved into other shelters.

“She can hand him his copies of the Chapter Seven papers herself. It’ll ne a nice Christmas present for Gillie!” Rafael laughed, just as my Mistress entered the kitchen.

“What’re you getting me for X-mas Uncle Rafe?” she asked, all sly and coy.

“It’s Christmas, you little heathen, and I’ll get you anything ya want.”

She giggled.

Everyone rejoined the tree-trimming party. Later on I saw Gilda taking Michael Jacobs aside, and telling him something. Their talk wasn’t intense, but she meant for it to be private. They were across a room full of laughing, talking, singing people, and this prevented me from listening in on the conversation. Her back was to me, so I could not even read her lips. Jacobs himself never said a word, he just nodded now and then, and I am fairly sure she instructed him to not talk. She’d obviously worked it out so that when it happened, it was kept from me.

Later that evening, when the students were in their guest rooms and the rest of the dinner guests had left for the night, we stole a moment in Gilda’s room to comb out her hair before bed. It had been difficult finding the time to stick to our routine with so many people in the house, so she had been bathing and dressing on her own. This was agitating me, and she knew it, so when the moment was right, I snuck in to play with her hair at night, at least. I was not giving up her evening hair combing. I enjoyed it far too much.

Sitting in her vanity chair, she leaned back suddenly and looked up at me as I stood behind her. It was very fetching behavior, and I leaned over thinking she was requesting an upside-down kiss. Yummy. But before I could place my lips to hers, she blurted out, “Alex, I order you to stay out of the piano bench. Do not find a way to look at its contents, do not ‘accidentally’ make it fall over, do not get someone else to open it for you. Stay out of it. Is that clear?”

I stopped. What was this, now? An order even! First her cell phone messages are being kept from me, now this. It had to have something to do with the private conversation she’d had with Mr. Jacobs earlier that day.

“Yes, Miss,” I said, cradling her head in my hands. “May I ask why?”

“Nope,” she said, smiling up at me. “You’ll just do this.”

“Yes, Miss.”

“Thank you,” she said, and yes I still hated that, but then she pulled me down by a shirtsleeve with a wicked grin and gave me that upside-down kiss. “More,” she demanded, rising out of her chair and closing the distance between us. I smirked at her, then tossed the hairbrush onto the Oriental rug and picked her up instead.

I did not understand her sudden urge to be naughty, but I wasn’t going to deny her – not completely, anyway. I carried her to the bed, squeezing her adorable backside in my large hands, and cheerfully kissing her eager mouth the entire way. She was aroused, more so than she had ever been with me before. Those fabulous legs writhed around my midsection, and as I placed her on her bed, we shared a quiet laugh while I struggled to untangle them.

When I tucked her in she tried to pull me down with her. I reminded her that the guest rooms were full of students, and the last time I brought her to a climax (which had been in the bathtub, all the way back in October), she had no reason to be quiet about it.

Thankfully, she only protested a little. I rewarded her with more kisses to help mollify her cravings, and she took them like a greedy child. My hand wandered a bit further than I intended, and I found myself caressing a breast through the thin cotton of her pajama top. When the nipple came to a point, she moaned into my mouth, and something other than my brain told me to continue. But I remembered my plan, and I pulled back, very slowly.

Gilda smiled up at me. “I like the way you tuck me in, Alex.”

My word… such a significant disclosure in one softly whispered sentence. Seems I had peeled back a little bit more of her armor.

She’d acknowledged her attraction. She desired me. She was feeling just the right amount of affection. But she wasn’t falling – not just yet.

We’re right on schedule.

Gilda appeared to be satisfied, thank the heavens, so I brushed the side of her cheek and wished her pleasant dreams (with me in them, hopefully), and left her for the night.

The household with all its guests had retired, so I went down to the kitchen and put an icepack on my crotch. I had loads of extra work to do yet, and I didn’t want to put up with waiting for the erection to die down on its own. It was such a bother sometimes, holding back as much as I had been.

Briefly, I wondered what Grell Sutcliff was up to. I could have used his fervent mouth for about ten minutes… but if I called him now he’d probably expect something in return this time. I’d tell him to sod off, and then he’d cause a ruckus and would wake up the entire house, and then I’d have a real mess on my hands. In addition, I still hadn’t figured out if Gilda was the jealous type. My gut said no, but…

This wasn’t an easy task. I wanted Gilda just as much as she wanted me. When her soft moan had reached my ear, I had to suppress the urge to remove her pajamas and suckle those dark pink nipples, as well as any other part that struck my fancy. I wanted to hear her ask for more, again and again. I wanted to be inside her.

She really was a very alluring human, but unfortunately I had to watch myself. The timing had not been good, and I am not referring to just the presence of houseguests. Spring was a long way off, and I had to pace myself. Whether or not we’d resume what we started after the guests cleared out that weekend, I had no idea… but as Grell Sutcliff would say, there had been tongue involved, so I had to concentrate and keep my own desires in check.

By Friday evening, nearly all of the decorations were up. Just to satisfy your curiosity, I did manage to find a statue of Dionysus for my Mistress. I affixed it to the top of the gigantic tree that I’d cut down for her. It was a nude of the Greek god, with grape vines, the proverbial jug, and a few clinging, inebriated harlots. It screamed of drunken ecstasy and she absolutely loved it.

There was only the outdoor lighting left. I was determined to get it done before the first major snowfall, but Gilda asked that I wait to do that until the Saturday before she returned to school. The students were to return that afternoon, and she wanted us to do the lights together, at night, alone. She was very specific.

She can be so flirtatious and sweet sometimes. I could just kiss her all over. And I will, someday soon.

That Saturday, between myself and Rafael’s driver, we drove the seven remaining students back to their dorms in two limos. When Gilda and I returned that afternoon, we were finally alone in the manor for the first time since the evening of the Friday before, almost eight days.

I insisted on a hot bath, first thing, just to get reacquainted with our routine. No, we didn’t pick up where we left off and get all inflamed with each other. But it was very, very pleasant – for both of us. She had missed the attention as much as I had missed giving it.

I made Pot Roast for her supper, of course, and then we went out to do the lights afterwards. She wanted to help with the trees, so I decorated the house in a flash, and I was delighted to see her ‘o’ face again. She stood there gaping at my speed, and when I was done she smiled at me. When the switch was thrown, little white dots covered the outside of the manor, front to back, top to bottom, in a very tasteful display I will add. She laughed and applauded.

We moved on to her precious Japanese maples. I allowed her to do four of the smaller ones with my help, which was very nice for me as I had to pick her up and balance her adorable backside on my shoulder. I held her steady, my hands wrapped tight around those strong thighs, and I tried not to think about all the other reasons I had for grasping her legs in such a manner.

The sun was nearly down and it was getting very cold, so I suggested she allow me to finish.

“Yeah, you’re right. I really am enjoying this, I mean I’ve never been able to do it before – except at Fortune’s house. Never at my own. But my hands are freezing. Go ahead.”

I finished again, lightening-fast, and she stood in the middle of the lane as I turned the power on.

“Oh jeez! They’re beautiful!”

Electricity was annoying in its own way – I am very old-fashioned. But it had its perks, as well. These lights had colors, and they twinkled. I loved the way they reflected in Gilda’s bright, happy eyes.

When I carried her inside, it was already dark out so I took her directly up to her room. Her hands were indeed cold, as well as her poor feet, so I lit a fire in her bedroom hearth and brought her some perfectly spiked eggnog. When I came back later that night to tuck her in, she had fallen asleep right where I’d left her, in the chair by the fire. I carried her to her bed, and began changing her clothes. Luckily for me, she didn’t wake up until after I managed to pilfer a few kisses in unexplored territory. She has delightful hipbones.

I would wait to give her more, but I would steal everything I could until then. Heh.

Now safely under the covers, she looked up at me with a slightly inebriated expression and said, “I finally had a nice holiday in my own place.”

“There is more to come, Miss,” I offered, kissing her forehead and switching off her bedside lamp. Unsurprisingly, even though she was sweating some when I checked on her later, she didn’t take off her shirt that night.

+

The next day was Sunday, her last day of the Thanksgiving break before returning back to school.

I was humming to myself in the kitchen, preparing Gilda’s breakfast, when I heard her mournful cries. I do not refer to my Mistress.

I began leaving out dishes of cream just outside the delivery door of the kitchen the very first night we came to live in this manor, and sure enough, I caught the attention of a stray cat. Not just any stray, either – when she’d finally let me close enough to pick her up for a cuddle, my demon senses instantly detected that she was about a week pregnant with a litter. That was back in October. She was probably going to be having her babies the week before Christmas. There would be kittens!

Taking on the form of a cat was one of my many talents as demon. I also use the form of a crow, but that is mainly for reconnaissance. Being a cat, however, was enjoyable. I always try to make a cat-friend (or enemy) and play with them for a few hours. Do not ask me to go into details; cats are highly territorial and ruthless hunters, and very promiscuous. A description of my adventures may disgust you.

Or, not; I have no idea.

In any case, there were five of them in her belly, I think. Of course I had plans to make Cat – yes, I called her Cat, because I didn’t know her name – a Queening Box, and to take care of her and her little ones the best I could without Gilda being aware of it. I knew my Mistress liked animals, but I had no idea how she would react to having them in the manor. For now, I just continued to feed Cat and stroked her soft fur when she allowed it.

My heart leapt. Excited at her early arrival, I went to the icebox and retrieved what I had been so diligently saving for her.

An old tradition in human culture was to set the remains of a chicken or turkey carcass out for strays after removing what was to be used for soup. Such customs have fallen out of favor in the last century, with people citing the dangers of vermin and germs to close to the home.

But not with me. Having prepared a Thanksgiving feast for nearly two dozen people, I had two large Turkey carcasses waiting for Cat in the icebox. My plan was to break them down and feed her delicious meals for about a week. Cat’s babies were growing rapidly and she needed the nourishment.

Gilda was still in the unfortunate habit of ‘checking out the fridge’ as she called it, to get herself a snack. Each time she opened it since the feast, she wrinkled her nose and asked me when the dead birds were going to be cleared out. I kept giving her the soup excuse, and continued pressing her to just call for me if she wanted a snack, not to just get it herself like some commoner, with the hope of staving off further inquiries. I worried that I was going to have to resort to my stern voice to get my way. Given my Grand Plan and our excellent progress in the sex department, I did not want to do that.

Bother. Maybe she’d get the point on her own…

Cat had not shown herself during the break, making me nervous as to where the poor thing was and how she was coping. I think there were just too many people around for her comfort. Unfortunately that meant the dead birds had been in the icebox for a while as well.

I opened the delivery door, holding roughly one-third of one carcass in my hand, and there she was at my feet. Oh, my darling little mother-to-be! She took one look at what I held in my hand and began licking her tiny, delicate chops. Winding her lithe, kitten-filled body around the legs of my black trousers, I welcomed her into the house and shut the door.

She was a Russian Blue, and her coat was thick and shiny. Her eyes were the bright celadon color expected in the ring for that breed. She was slightly older as well, so I do not think this was her first litter. What fool would toss such a beautiful girl outside, I cannot imagine. Or perhaps she ran away from an unhappy home.

It didn’t matter; she was mine now, and she’d be cared for properly.

Cat ate slowly, which heartened me. This told me she was not starving and had found meals during her absence. I got her a dish of cream to go with her turkey. Squatting down to set the cream next to the carcass, I reached out and stroked her from her sensitive ears to her beguiling tail.

So soft. I murmured and cooed sweet words to my beautiful Cat, and she occasionally stopped feeding to rub her head into my palm or meow her gratitude. Such an adorable. loving creature.

I stifled a growl when I felt someone’s presence behind us. Standing quickly, I was surprised to see Gilda, with disheveled bed hair and a cute smirk, wearing a dark green robe over her pajamas. I was so enraptured with the return of Cat that I hadn’t noticed Gilda creeping downstairs. She was standing behind me in the kitchen now, watching me interact with my lovely friend.

“Miss?” I asked quietly. “Why are you out of bed? I will have your breakfast ready momentarily…”

“I woke up and couldn’t go back to sleep.” She smirked at me again and came closer, but slowly. Cat stopped eating and mewed, looking up at her.

“Pretty kitty,” she said, and her voice was softer than I have ever heard it. Cat sniffed the air, then went back to her meal. Gilda smiled at me mischievously, then went to the kitchen table where she took a seat and stared at me.

I sighed. Yet another secret I was not going to be able to keep from her.

I busied myself with the coffee machine and pretended nothing had happened. “Why didn’t you tell me we had a cat?” she asked, and the tone in her voice was pure tease. “I’ve never heard you talk so sweetly before.”

“I have spoken to you many times with a sweet disposition,” I said curtly. “In fact I usually speak to you thusly.”

“Not like that,” she laughed. “You’re adorable, Demon.” She snickered rudely and covered her mouth.

I frowned at her, irritated at being found out. But at least she wasn’t screaming and demanding that Cat be tossed out and never let back in. In fact, I was about to be given another gift.

“You can keep him – ah, or her? Whatever – in the house, if you’d like. I don’t mind.”

I looked over at her slowly. No doubt my expression surprised her.

“Miss – really? Are you being serious? Because…”

“Shit, Alex. I’ve never seen you this happy. I certainly don’t make you this happy. Of course we can keep it. You have to take care of it, though. I’ve never had a pet so I don’t know how. Is she healthy?”

“Well. Yes, she’s actually very healthy. And… Cat is a she, and she is also pregnant.”

“Ah. Good name. So… kittens for X-Mas, then.”

Thrilled. I was thrilled, I tell you. I controlled it, however, not wanting to look like an insipid fool in front of the prey.

“Thank you, Miss. You are very magnanimous.”

“If you say so, Alex. It’s a big house. I don’t want more people than you and me running around here all the time, but we could use a nice pet or two.” I held my breath, hoping she was not going to say something horrifying about getting a puppy. Gods…

“Alex, just… Just make sure she doesn’t have fleas, okay? Bugs like…” She hesitated, staring at Cat. Biting her lip, she got up and turned her back on me as she walked to the door.

“Miss?”

Just before she reached the door, she said quietly, “Bugs seem to like me. I get bit. Often. That’s why I don’t go outside much.” She pushed open the swinging door to the main hall and said, “I’m really hungry. I’ll be in bed.”

She disappeared into the hall.

Well, well… there was more to her fear of the cross spider than her just being ‘girlie’. Bugs liked to feed on her? Not surprising, given the quality of her blood.

However, I’m afraid not.

I am the only one that will be biting her in this house.

+

Gilda practiced a little bit that afternoon, and later came into the kitchen where I was washing the morning dishes. Cat was asleep on a makeshift bed of fluffy towels, warm and happy next to a modern heating radiator. Gilda smiled down at her as she walked past.

“Hello, Mistress.”

She grinned at me. “Cat seems happy. That’s nice.”

I smiled. “I have bathed her. She is completely clear of vermin, and I will see to it that she stays that way. I wanted to make sure you knew that.”

“You bathed a stray? Didn’t she fight you?”

I though to tell her the complete truth – that I had transformed and licked Cat clean myself, but I decided to keep things simple.

“Not at all. She seemed to enjoy it.” Not a lie. That was one very happy pussy by the time I was finished with her. Changing the subject, I asked, “May I get you a snack, Miss?”

“No, just wanted to chat.”

“I see. What did you want to talk about? I am versed in many subjects.”

She grabbed an apple from a fresh fruit bowel on the kitchen table, and jumped up on the counter next to the sink.

“Alex,” she began, banging her heel softly against a cupboard, “Why don’t we have a dish washer?”

I looked over at her and tilted my head. Reaching a hand out to her, I tapped the tip of her nose with a suds-covered finger. “We do,” I quipped, smirking.

She grinned and wiped the suds away with the back of her hand. “Cute,” she said, “But you know what I mean. We have a washing machine, a dryer, all that. Why not a dishwasher?”

“I don’t care for them. They don’t do nearly as good a job as I can. The silverware and the dishes will be perfection. That is a rule with me. And… The fact of the matter is, I enjoy washing dishes.”

“You’re a total throwback,” she laughed lightly. “So which era has been your favorite? If I go by the way you decorated your room, I’d guess Victorian.”

It was true, I had re-created the room I occupied at the Phantomhive mansion down to the last detail in Gilda’s manor. I was quite fond of that room. It suited me.

But that had not been my favorite time in human history. I’m not telling Gilda, nor will I tell you, what that was. Ciel had not been my first rare soul, although he was the first one I came to love. There was one before him, my first of that caliber, and her soul had lasted over five hundred years.

“I liked the Victorian age quite a bit, yes,” was all I offered. “Did you have a nice break, Miss?”

“Yes,” she replied, her eyes lighting up. “You did such a good job. Really, Alex, if this demon thing doesn’t work out for you, you’ve a second career waiting, trust me.”

“I’m afraid this ‘demon thing’ is something I cannot rid myself of. But… buttling, yes. I know.” I smiled.

“Well, okay, a third career then. I meant you’d make a great party planner. Ooh! Wedding planner. Yeah. Or interior decorator.”

“Miss is too generous.”

“Nah. Really, Alexander. I’m lucky to have you.”

And have me you do. Until the end. You cannot get rid of me. Ever.

I leaned over and gave her a peck on her cheek. Gilda blushed, and her pheromone levels went up a notch. Just a teensy bit, just the right amount.

“Okay, we’ll I’m gonna take an early swim today,” she said, leaping off the counter and putting the apple back. Had that entire conversation been an excuse just to compliment me?

Really… You should congratulate me. I was doing so well!

“Yes, Mistress,” I said, wiping my hands off on a towel. I could finish the dishes later. “I shall go check the linens in your changing room and wait for you there with your suit.”

Where I shall brush and twist your lovely hair into a nice, tight bun. And undress you. And touch you. Oh…

“Oh, Alex, come on! I like it when you change my clothes, but I don’t need to be babied that much. You go do your chores, I know you like that. I can swim alone.”

I could have argued with her, but we’d had such a nice little interlude, and I didn’t want to ruin it.

“All right Miss. I will permit you some privacy, if that is your wish. But if you need anything, anything at all, even if it is to just stomp a bug – although if there is a bug down there I will be simply mortified – just say my name and I will be there in an instant.”

“Yeah,” she quipped, hanging onto the doorframe and smiling from ear to ear, “I’ve seen how fast you are. Are you that fast with everything you do?”

The little flirt.

“I guess you will just have to find that one out for yourself, Miss Gilda.”

+

“The brute is going to kill her. We should interfere, and now.”

“You know as well as I do that if we interfere now, it will not work. He needs to fulfill the contract, and that won’t happen until the coming Spring,” the first one said, sounding bored. “And just what do you mean by this ‘we’ rubbish? I can’t do anything. And you can’t break the rules.”

The second one stewed.

“Well, that’s wrong, actually. You can. You just won’t. Isn’t that right?”

The second one began to fume. They continued monitoring the scene as it played out, hoping they wouldn’t have to change their long-term plans.

+

At some point while Gilda was swimming, Cat came tearing though the kitchen and into the pantry. She found a hiding spot in the back and would not come out. Most cats were skittish and pregnant females more so. While I found it perplexing, I did not try to force her out.

Then I heard it. It was very quick, but make no mistake, it was the sound of Gilda crying out my name for a brief moment, then silence.

I flew through the kitchen to the basement stairs, down through the game room, and then flung the pool door open and burst onto the concrete deck. There in the water, to my horror, was my Young Miss… unmoving, floating face down, with a pink cloud of what was surely her blood blossoming out around her in the five foot depth.

The next moments, several things happened very quickly. My heart sank in my chest at the thought of her dead. Not her soul, lost to me, but the thought of Gilda, gone. I looked down at my hand, and surprisingly, the contract mark was still present and as dark as the first day.

Then, I noticed a man, fully dressed and climbing out of the water some feet away from her, with blood dripping down one side of his face.

I had to get to Gilda, but I had to detain him as well. What to do…

I moved so fast I could not be seen. I grabbed him by the throat and lifted him high above my head. Demonic eyes glowed, fangs were bared, and I growled so loudly the light fixtures rattled.

He panicked, looking down at his unearthly attacker with fright in his dark eyes. Disgusted with him, and realizing that I had to get to Gilda, I tossed him aside where he hit the wall with a satisfying thud. I heard flesh tear and bones break before he fell to the floor.

I dove in after Gilda and removed her from the water at inhuman speed, laying her down on the concrete gently. There were ligature marks on her neck, obviously from the man’s hands, and she was not breathing.

I was going to tear him to tiny little pieces.

I put an ear to her chest, and realized with horror that her heart was not beating.

“No. No, no, no, Mistress, breathe,” I urged, panic welling in my gut. I slapped her across the face, hard, but she did not respond.

I could not lose her, not now. There was so much left for her to do, her composition had to be finished, I needed to touch her more than I had, she had to finish school–

When had her life become this important to me? Why was I lamenting the loss of that before my meal?

I had no answer. All I was aware of was the panic I felt at the thought of losing her. I applied CPR – yes, I know how to do it. I figured it would come in handy in my profession and now here it was, doing just that–

Nothing. I flipped her over and pounded on her back several times. “Gilda!” I yelled, breaking one of my precious rules of buttling and using just her name, and pounded again. Flipping her over, I was about to start another round of CPR when the sudden, beautiful noise of her spitting up pool water filled my ears. I smiled nervously, and gently turned her onto her side, pounding her back again, demanding that the water leave her lungs.

She coughed and coughed, then wiped her mouth and blinked. I sat her up and held her close to me, hiding my pathetic, relieved face from her view. When she coughed up more water, I resumed pounding.

“Stop it, stop! I’m breathing, I can breathe,” she managed, her voice sounding like she had been gargling with thumbtacks. She said my name and clung to me, and started to cry.

“Mistress… Miss Gilda.” That was all I could muster – her name.

That had been far too close. And I was clearly far too attached.

But, she was alive, yes? She’d live on and I could do all those things with her that I had so carefully planned.

Gilda gasped suddenly, and her body tensed up in my arms. She began pushing me off her and was nearly scratching my skin to get free.

“Get off, let go let go!” she screeched. Chalking it up to disorientation, I released her out of fear that she was going to hurt herself. She backpedalled on her rear-end away from me across the concrete and came to a halt with at least three feet of air between us. When I looked into her face, all I saw was fear.

The silence stretched out between us until her attacker disturbed it. The man had apparently woken up and decided to make his presence known by wailing in pain.

I whipped my head around. “Shut the fuck up,” I stated, looking at him with death in my eyes. It wasn’t my fault his legs had broken. All I did was throw him. He got the point and reduced his cries to a whimper. I turned back to the important person in the room.

“Miss Gilda, please do not be frightened. You are going to be fine.”

“What have you done to me?” she screamed.

“Mistress, please… calm yourself. I did not attack you,” I begged, placing my hand on the wet fabric of my shirt right over my heart. She was confused from her attack and drowning, or at least, I hoped that’s all this was. “It was him,” I said, pointing behind me, never taking my eyes off of her.

She looked past me to the whimpering goon, who was no doubt flailing on the concrete in a growing puddle of his own blood.

Gilda looked back at me, wild-eyed and crazed. When I made a move towards her, she immediately shimmied backwards again on her hands and backside, skinning her palms and thighs in the process.

I reached out to grab her to me, thinking this was ridiculous behavior. But then she put up a defensive arm, and screamed, “Don’t touch me!”

Shocked, I recoiled. “What did you say to me…?” I tried not to think of Ciel, but it was nearly impossible.

“Stay away from me!”

“Miss Gilda, I assure you, I am not the one who is trying to hurt you. You are my Mistress. I am your butler. We have a contract.” I swallowed, hesitating with what I was about to say. But I was flummoxed by this display of fear. It was directed at me. I had to do something.

“You are mine. I care for you. I am trying to protect you.”

She breathed hard, and her eyes began welling up. “What have you done, Demon? Who the fuck is Claude Faustus?!”

Oh dear.

+

Promising her an explanation, Gilda finally allowed me to touch her. I wrapped her shaking body in a blanket, and I made her sit in a lawn chair while I dealt with our broken-legged ruffian.

I couldn’t just kill him. He was the only one with any information as to why he was there. So I gleaned – well, all right, I crushed his fingers to get it – some information from him. He revealed he was in the employ of one Norman Bellows, no surprise there, and that he’d gotten the code for the alarm from none other than David Taylor.

Wonderful. Now I had to rid the manor of a soon-to-be-dismembered body and kill a conservatory student. It was going to be a busy week.

This man had to be taken care of, and Gilda knew it as well. She looked miserable, but to my surprise, she ordered me to do it. I was further shocked when, even after I asked her to keep her eyes shut, she refused and watched me work as I ended his life. I was quick about it, but given how angry I was, I was not gentle.

Eventually she let me examine her and alleviate my concerns that she was not bleeding out from a wound. The blood in the pool water, I learned, had belonged to her attacker. She had tried to scratch his ear off during their fight.

Apparently he had been standing at the edge of the pool waiting. When she came up to the wall to turn into another lap, he’d grabbed her by the hair and then forced her under. She’d used her legs against the wall of the pool to pull him in with her, and they fought, which was when she scratched his ear. She managed to get back up for a gulp of air and got out half my name, but he overpowered her again and choked her under the water’s surface. She lost consciousness quickly after that, and took in water. It had happened very quickly.

She had no physical wounds aside from the uncomfortable feel of having had water in her lungs, strangulation marks on her neck from the man’s hands, and scrapes from the concrete on her thighs and hands, which she’d given to herself when she tired to get away from me.

As to her behavior after… Something had happened to her – to her soul – while her heart had stopped.

As the day wore on, it became obvious that Gilda was quite shaken from her experience. She was walking around, her eyes were open, she was functioning… but her mind was clearly far away. Despondent, rattled. Afraid of me, but unable to leave my side.

The police never came, because her attacker had somehow disabled the alarm from the outside and then quietly broken the lock to the basement doors. Fucking computers. I wasn’t going to rely on that infernal thing ever again. In the end, it was good that law enforcement hadn’t come because there would have been all those messy legal entanglements to deal with.

Rafael Fernandez had arrived, however, within forty-three minutes after the attack, and was beside himself with guilt and fury that Gilda had been hurt. Before he drove off that night to poke his nose into the underbelly for more answers, he left seven of his goons with us.

Despite the fact that Rafael’s men were on the grounds and stationed at various points throughout the house, I was the one she was looking to for protection. That’s as it should be, really, I couldn’t have been happier that she was seeing me in that light now; she should have seen me as her one and only protector from the start.

I was to blame that she hadn’t. I had been far too lax in letting her have her way, like going on a silly date or her being away at school for several hours… all that time, alone, out of my sight. All because I became overconfident in the progress and nature of the contract, and I didn’t want Gilda to get overly attached to me too soon. Now, I had to face the fact that I was attached to her, and look where my damn plan has gotten me. What a fix.

Unfortunately, it gets worse. It was obvious that during those brief seconds when her heart had stopped, she’d had an experience of some sort on another plane of existence. I do not know if she had been in Hell; logic tells me no, as she wasn’t technically dead, nor was she dying. There had been no sign of the cinematic record, and no Reaper had shown up. However, how could she have possibly come up with the name Claude Faustus if it had just been some damn hallucination? This was a complication I never could have foreseen.

There is also the problem of these new, unpleasant feelings towards me. Her desire to remain next to me for protection was wonderful. It was right on track with my plan. But she was also filled with distrust, and worse, hatred. This was a herald to the exact relationship I didn’t want to have with her.

Starting tomorrow, things would change. I would not let her out of my sight. I can be a cat, or a crow. I can hop amongst the treetops. The housework will have to be done at night, but I will watch her at school.

As far as her attitude towards me… I had to make up my mind, and quickly, as to what I was going to do about that.

For the rest of that afternoon, she tended to follow me about the house, and because of that she didn’t get much work done on her studies. I didn’t get much accomplished either, worrying about her state of mind. At one point, we were on a walkway in the upper levels of the library, and that cold, rainy November wind kicked up again. Leaves and sticks and dirt went flying through the air to scrape at the window of a nearby alcove, causing us both to turn and look at the sound. When it died down, I resumed shelving the book in my hand, but I felt something weighing down the sleeve of my other hand.

When I looked down, I saw it was Gilda’s fingers, clutching the fabric of my shirt right above the cuff.

Can you blame her?

Damnation is nothing like what you humans imagine it to be. It isn’t necessarily eternal, constant torture and abuse. There is that, yes, but not for every human that ends up there. It’s a completely tailored experience. The worst event thus far in her short life hadn’t been the death of her mother, or even that she’d been raped. It had been both her parent’s complete indifference to her. That had taught her to look inward for support, and to not trust anyone. So I had my suspicions as to what this experience, whatever it was, had been like for her, but I needed to get her to open up about it before I could help her with it. She wasn’t ever going to forget it, but I could help her move on.

She let go my sleeve immediately when she saw me looking. When I glanced at her face, her eyes were wild. She looked like an abused dog, waiting to be punished or struck. And like that same dog, she looked very angry. With me.

Bother.

Dinner went by quickly, but she didn’t eat much. Rafael stayed until then. He kissed her goodbye, and told her not to worry, and I noticed she clung to him a bit longer than usual when he hugged her. The presence of goons was not helping my effort to have a long talk with her, alone. But I endeavored to go about our routine, hoping that would get her to open up and start telling what had happened.

It didn’t do any good. She was shying away from me when I dealt with her clothes, despondent during her bath, and silent while I dried her hair. By the time I tucked her into her bed, nothing had changed. I was sitting next to her as she lay on her back, and she was looking up at me in the dim light of her bedside table lamp. Her eyes still had that vacant, wild look in them.

I removed a glove, goons in the house be damned, and brushed the tips of my fingertips across her forehead. Letting my fingers slide down her cheek, my palm came to rest on the side of her face.

My priceless treasure. I almost lost her.

She closed her eyes for a moment, leaning into my touch just a tiny bit, but when she opened up her eyes again, her expression hadn’t changed.

“I’ll leave the light on, all right Miss?”

She didn’t respond. She didn’t even move. When I went to get up, one of her hands shot out and grabbed my sleeve, halting me from leaving.

Finally. Finally, finally.

“Miss?”

Taking her hand back, she swallowed hard before answering. In a small, curt voice, she said, “I don’t want to dream about it.”

I sighed, sitting back down. “Miss Gilda, I cannot help you, or even determine what happened to you, until you tell me about it.”

Reluctantly, she started to talk. “It was barren.”

“There was no life there?”

She shook her head. “There was something there… but all around me was dust and dry rocks. Like a dead planet.”

“How long were you in that place?”

“A week, maybe? Days. Miles and miles of the same damn thing. No day, no night. Walking, stumbling and running.”

When she stopped and looked me in the eyes, she did not look pleased with me.

“What else?”

“I was naked, which was awful. My knees were bleeding from falling down, my feet were all cut up. I was dirty, exhausted. I was thirsty. But I just couldn’t stop.”

I sighed. “Days, you say?”

“That’s what it felt like. How long was I dead?”

“Mistress, you weren’t officially dead. Your heart stopped, that’s all.”

“How long, Demon?” she asked through clenched teeth.

I hesitated to tell her. Time does not work the same in other dimensions as it does in yours. But, I would not lie. “Less than two minutes, I think.” She frowned. It was very hard for a human to accept the changes in perception between those places and here, and the loss of linear time was one of the most difficult adjustments.

“So if I wasn’t dead, then why was I in… Why was I there?”

“Firstly, I do not believe that was Hell. I imagine that is what it would be like for you, only it would be much worse. I can only surmise that you were in some sort of limbo, a state of flux. Perhaps because of your association with me you ended up there instead of… Instead of someplace more pleasant. Do you honestly think you’d prefer an eternity of that over me eating your soul?”

“Don’t ask me that now,” she said, starting to tear up. I removed my other glove and stroked the sides of her face again, trying to shush her.

I admit that I was hurt, but not at all surprised when she slapped my hands away. Just like Ciel… Did Claude do to her what he did to him?

No. No, that wasn’t possible. If there was anything left of Faustus, it couldn’t have been anything more than a demonic soul. Forever stuck in that form, he could do no more than torment her. She was simply angry with me.

Of course, there is nothing simple about that.

She stopped herself from crying, and blurted out angrily, “Who is this Claude person? What the fuck have you gotten me mixed up in?!”

I was going to have to tell her things… something, at least, that I didn’t want to.

“Claude Faustus is… was another Demon. We fought a great battle in the past, and… I killed him.” I was going to say ‘he lost’, but that’s not really accurate, is it? “Please tell me what he did to you.”

“He didn’t do anything. There was no one there, remember? I only heard him. He taunted me. He was very angry, He said he was going to take me from you. Then I’d feel something at my back, and I’d turn, but there was never anything there.”

“What exactly did he say to you?”

“Alex…” she started, frowning. “Is this whole thing about my soul just some excuse? Are you…” she stopped, biting her lip and looking up at me with such an angry, frightened face. Swallowing hard, she continued. “Are you using me to get back at him for something?”

It was my turn for my eyes to ‘bug out’. I exhaled, and put my temper in check. After all, it wasn’t her I was angry with.

“I have contracted with you because I have something to offer you in exchange for your soul. I am hungry, and you are delicious.” She nodded, and I shouldn’t have been surprised at that. Accepting the terms of our deal so easily - sometimes I was confused as to why she actually contracted with me in the first place, taking such a terrible chance. Tonight’s little adventure had given her a taste of just how terrible it could be.

“If you consider that to be using you, there is nothing I can do about that. But surely you know by now that I care about you a great deal.”

There was no lie there. I did care. I wanted to keep her bliss up as high as possible until the end, to enhance her flavor, true; but I do care. I came out of that closet the moment I saw her floating face down in the pool.

Gilda wasn’t as convinced. “I thought you did. Now I’m not so sure.”

Goddamn Faustus and Hannah fucking Annafellows. Pardon my damn French, as Uncle Rafael would say, but I am fucking pissed off. Once again, they have ruined everything. My ‘Grand Plan’ was quickly turning into a unfortunate salvage.

“I cannot force you to believe me, Mistress, but it is true. I care so much that I have your comfort in mind – at all times. I want you to be happy, not simply healthy.”

“What about sex? Are you using that to make me ‘happy’ as well?”

“No, I am hoping to use that to give you orgasms.”

She frowned again, and I cannot tell you how relieved I was that she did not make me elaborate any further.

“I want for your happiness, from now until I finally take you in, and to whatever degree can be achieved after that, as well. There will be no dusty rocks, bloody feet or terrorizing voices. Just sweet, calm, pitch black relief while you are nestled safely in my very being.”

“While you suck me dry, yeah.” She narrowed her eyes at me and it was not at all playful. “You don’t gotta sell me on it anymore, Alex. Trust me. You’ll get your damn dinner.”

Resignation. Not my favorite way to get them, but still.

All right, then. If she was to remain angry with me, then I’d have to deal with that. “You will tell me what he said, Mistress.”

She frowned again. Looking away from me, she continued. “I only heard him near the end. There was no noise at all before that, then all of a sudden there was this voice. It asked ‘how is Sebastian doing?’ then it laughed. He sounded like a… drunk, horny pervert.” Her lip curled back. “I called out your name a few times then. You didn’t answer, so I panicked. When I said I didn’t know any Sebastian, the voice got angry and called me a liar. He said he could smell Sebastian all over me. Then he asked me if I had a butler, and shit got really weird from there.”

“Go on.”

“He told me his name was Claude Faustus. He said your name is Sebastian. I guess that’s what Grell has been saying all this time? When she calls you ‘Bassie’? I should have guessed you were hiding things from me…” She trailed off, sounding miserable and buying her face in her hands. I refused to reach out and touch her.

I wanted to, though.

Gilda wiped a few stray tears away with the back of her hand, and continued. “Then he kept saying ‘she left me, she stole them’, over and over, calling whoever this her is a bitch and a cunt. He said he was going to cut me up and send me back to you in a bucket. He sounded just… insane with rage. It was like his hatred was everywhere, buzzing in my brain and shaking the rocks. I covered my ears, but it didn’t help, and I fell down and I was terrified–”

She sobbed once, putting a hand over her mouth and closing her eyes.

“You could feel his presence?” She nodded. “Yet there was no one there with you.”

“No one. There was no one.”

“And no one was coming for you.”

Ah, there it was. I’d hit the mark. Her lower lip trembled, and really, she tried so hard to keep the tears from flowing. What a little trooper. She turned her head away from me, embarrassed. When I tried to get her to turn back to me, she resisted and gave me an angry whine. So I forged ahead, lifting her up by her torso and hugging her to me. Eventually she submitted enough to have a good cry while I held her, with her hands fisting the front of my shirt.

“Mistress.”

“What?” she asked, sounding perfectly wretched.

“I came for you.”

She pulled back, pushing my hands from her person, and looked at my face. I gave her a tentative smile. “I know,” she sobbed. “I heard you calling me, and I screamed out your name. The next thing I knew, I was puking up pool water.”

I let her cry, but I did not touch her again.

“I cannot answer as to why two minutes for me seemed like days for you, and I am sorry about that. But you heard me. I would have continued trying to pull you out of there even if it had been much longer. Here, let me show you something.”

I bade her lay back down and lifted my right hand, showing my contract mark to her, and she eyed it warily. I pulled down her comforter and lifted up her t-shirt to expose her belly.

“What are you…”

She started to fight me, but I asked her to just be calm and she complied. I turned my hand over, and gently rubbed my contract mark against the one on her tummy. I smiled, feeling my skin grow warm until it began to tingle.

She gasped, but not as if she were in pain. “Can you feel that? Can you feel your mark tingling?” She nodded, and I wiped away more tears. “That is the bond of our contract. We are connected, Miss Gilda, completely. As long as these contract marks remain, you and I cannot be separated. Not even if I die. Not even if you are in limbo.”

I’d meant to try and lift her spirits with that last, but she laughed bitterly. “How convenient for you,” she muttered.

I realized the inevitable; that it was going to take me weeks to get us back to where we were this morning.

“All right, Miss. We will talk about this again when you are not so livid with me.”

“Don’t hold your breath, Demon. If you even breathe.”

She flipped over, giving me her back.

Well then. The crisis was averted, for now. If she wanted her fluffy comforter tucked in around her, she could do it herself. I sighed and left her alone.

She sleep-stripped in the middle of the night and removed her shirt, but this time she woke up, shouting something along the lines of ‘get them off of me’, but unless she called out my name I was not coming to her aid. She didn’t.

It was looking like I didn’t have to worry about breaking her heart anymore, either.

‘Enraged’ she’d be very tasty, too, I suppose.

Dammit.

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tbc

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