Languidly, you stretched in a very unladylike fashion, heedless of the fact that it was improper conduct–especially in front of a gentleman. Your tail freely oscillated back and forth, reminiscent of a grandfather clock’s heavy pendulum.
You let one eyelid rise to peer at the blonde, whose hair was darkened to the point of almost being brown. Near-matching umber eyes gazed steadily at you.
Allowing your other slit pupil to be revealed, you smiled slowly, deliberately shifting in your seat to get a rise out of the so-called gentleman. The lines around his mouth tightened. They hadn’t been there six months ago, when you first met, you noted in pleasure.
“Why?” you purred. “Are you getting nervous, Mr. Jennings?”
His jaw stiffened and locked, and he refused to say any more on the subject. “Check the cats.”
“With pleasure.” You got to your boot-clad feet. Just as you were about to leave, he added coolly, “And get rid of the demon.”
You frowned in displeasure, but did as he asked. Gradually, the tail vanished, and your irises elongated to an oblong shape. Satisfied, he turned his eyes to the window of the horse-drawn brougham and spoke softly, though he was no longer talking to you. “We’re almost there.”
With a small smirk, you said nothing, and simply disappeared.
The doorknocker attached to the Phantomhive Estate’s impressive doors created quite the resounding echo. Playing the part of an obedient lap dog, you moved back a few steps behind your employer just as the door opened in a remarkably quick amount of time.
You did not raise your eyes, even as you felt the weight of a gaze upon you.
“Mr. Gordon Jennings, I presume?” a silkily smooth voice inquired. Your employer nodded once in reply, wearing the customary composed expression you knew so well on his face.
“Yes, I am here to speak to the Earl about his proposition about working jointly with the Funtom Company. He said he would like to have real-life cats to model his new line of cat toys after.”
“Ah.” The owner of the velvety voice stepped back, granting you passage through the magnificent doors. “Do come right in. The Earl will see you shortly.”
Only once you were admitted, with the door closed shut behind you, did you lift your head, eyes immediately drawn to the butler dressed in black leading you up the stairs to–presumably–where the Earl was.
Your small group stopped in front of an oaken door and the dark-haired butler tapped once on the door with his glove-clad knuckles.
The butler took his place at the child’s–because he was really no more than a child, though he had the eyes of an adult and the responsibilities of one–left hand, standing perfectly straight and awaiting further action.
Your employer tipped the brim of his hat towards the blue-eyed Earl. “Greetings, Earl Phantomhive. I am Gordon Jennings, as you no doubt know, and this is my assistant.” He motioned towards you, and you curtsied prettily. The Earl spared no second glance at you, simply acknowledging your presence with a nod.
After the niceties were exchanged and you were seated and the tea was served, Mr. Jennings and the Earl began talking of what direction they wanted to take with their combined business venture.
Quickly, you grew bored.
Bearing no compunction over the fact that you were so obviously inspecting the room and its occupants, you let your eyes roam around.
You scrutinized the butler first–not only because he commanded your attention, but also because he so obviously was not human. Even poised obediently next to the little Earl, in his pristine black trousers, sharp tailcoat, vest, and tie, he could not hide from you that he was not of the human race.
Not that you could say anything, you thought slyly with a hidden devious smile. And as sure as you were of his demonic aura, you were even more certain that he was also aware that you too, were not human.
Your eyes then traveled to the butler’s master, the little Earl, the object of your quaint journey. Ciel Phantomhive. Now he, along with his butler, was so very interesting.
Dark, blue-black hair, and bright, bright blue eyes, he was quite the adorable little thing. No doubt he would grow up to be quite the lady-killer if he had the chance. Your eyes observed the emerald-cut, deep sapphire stone that adorned his left thumb. What a pretty ring~
Standing gracefully, though a little abruptly, you ignored the sharp warning look Jennings gave you, and the expression of mild surprise and annoyance on Ciel’s face, in favor of requesting to be excused.
“Sit down,” Jennings seethed lowly, followed by a sharp reprimand of your name. “You vex me–”
“You may be excused.”
You smiled sweetly, noticing the glint of something quite interesting in your employer’s eyes but saying nothing. Smiling widely still, you curtsied once more. “Thank you Earl Phantomhive.”
“Sebastian, please escort the young lady to wherever she would like to go.”
“Certainly, my Lord.”
As quickly as it had come, the smile fell off your face and was replaced with a delicate frown. But civil etiquette demanded that you say nothing and tactfully accept the demon butler’s company.
“Please, come this way, miss.” He gently offered you his arm and, despite your reluctance, led you out of Ciel’s study. You were not willing to make a scene, so you relaxed a little, allowing the handsome butler to guide you away. Inwardly, you were plotting on ways to ditch him.
“Where would you like to go, miss?” Speak of the devil…
You faked a sickly sweet smile and in an endearing tone of voice, deliberately disregarded his question. “May I know your name?”
To your surprise, the demon returned your smile with a small, charming grin of his own. To any other, this would have disarmed them completely. However, it only succeeded in raising your hackles because the subtle heightening of his demonic aura indicated that he was indeed stronger than you, and probably much older.
“I am Sebastian Michaelis, the Phantomhive head butler. Now, my lady, where would you like to go?”
Resisting the urge to hiss, you accepted the fact that he was not going to leave. Facing forward again, you said, “To the carriages.”
The carriages were left exactly as they were–in the sun–and your sharp ears could pick up the complaints of their current residents.
You raised your speed up to a brisk trot, and in the process were finally able to dislodge your arm from Sebastian’s. He waited a few feet back, though no doubt his own keen hearing was able to discern exactly what you were so worried about.
Once you reached the carriage, you opened all the kennels with a small wave of your hand–there was no sense in wasting time with false pretenses–and cats of varying sizes and colors, breeds and ages sprung forth, relieved to be free of their scorching prisons.
“There, there,” you crooned to them as they meowed, the young ones mewling in high-pitched voices to show their want of food. “I know you’re hungry.”
A few of them wandered over to where Sebastian was, some even pawing at his polished black shoes, wanting to be picked up.
You watched with hooded eyes, cradling one of them yourself, scratching behind the Korat kitten’s left ear. Though surely he knew you were watching, Sebastian picked up the Havana Brown pawing at his feet and rubbed under his chin, producing a low purr.
Well. It looked like the Phantomhive butler had a soft spot for cats. You would keep that in mind.
Soon enough, all of the cats, save the one in Sebastian’s arms, were crowding around you, meowing for their lunch. You smiled warmly at them and turned to get their feeding bowls out, as well as their food.
You turned your head slightly, enough to see that Sebastian was uncomfortably close behind you, a hand extended in the direction of the bowls and sack of cat food. Well, you weren’t going to object to free labor.
Predictably, the cats orbited Sebastian–as he was, after all, the one carrying the food–dangerously weaving through his legs and around his feet. You said nothing to call them off; after all, you were quite enjoying yourself.
Until a certain… smell reached your nose, and you crinkled it in disgust.
“What is that horrid stench? Is that… do you own a dog?”
As if on cue, a large white dog with glowing red eyes rounded the corner, barking loudly with his tongue lolling. His thundering footsteps scattered the cats and caused you to hiss involuntarily.
Sebastian calmly stepped forward–arms still occupied with the sack of cat food–and in a deadly serious voice, commanded, “Pluto. Kennel.”
Immediately, the mutt skidded to a stop just inches away from you and Sebastian and with a whine, turned around and slunk away with his tail between his legs.
Mildly impressed but unwilling to remark on it, you blinked in surprise when he turned to you with a close-eyed smile. “I apologize for the delay. Shall we carry on?”
You tilted your head to the side. Then softly, you chuckled under your breath. “Lead on.”
When Sebastian turned his back, you took the opportunity to touch the minds of the dispersed cats and call them back to you.
One by one, they returned to you, some with their fur still ruffled from the scare, others nonchalantly trotting up to keep Sebastian company.
“Who do you think she is?” Baldroy muttered around his cigarette.
The three servants peered through one of the Phantomhive mansion’s large windows, curiously watching as the unnamed lady followed Sebastian into the kitchen.
“Whoever she is, she’s really pretty!” exclaimed Finnian, green eyes sparkling as he pressed his nose up against the windowpane.
“She is, she is,” agreed Mey-Rin. Secretly, she was a tad envious of the interest that Sebastian showed in the stranger, but it only made her resolve to show Sebastian her worth even stronger!
Sebastian set down the sack of cat food, eyes following you discreetly as you lined up the cats’ bowls across the countertop. You ignored the felines that swarmed around you with increasingly deafening meows, only stopping to detach one white-pawed kitten from your dress when it jumped up on you.
You reached for the bag of cat food, but Sebastian intercepted you. You raised one delicate brow at him, and he gave you one of his trademark smiles.
Once the cats realized that Sebastian was the one who currently held ownership of their food, they flocked around him. Their ears perked up comically and almost simultaneously as the opened bag crinkled when he poured the food into their bowls.
You stifled a soft laugh as the same cat vaulted up Sebastian’s leg, though the demon butler didn’t seem to mind in the slightest.
Moving forward, you gently loosened the Manx’s sharp claws from Sebastian’s most likely expensive black trousers, straightening up once you had set him down.
Your movements had caused you to invade the handsome butler’s personal space, but you took no action to right it.
Instead, you gazed directly into his pale red eyes, with just the slightest twisted smile on your face. You cocked your head to the side.
Sebastian had halted all movements, and in that moment, he intentionally allowed his eyes to grow brighter, and they glowed a mesmerizing crimson.
Your smirk deepened, and you leaned forward, eyes never leaving his as you closed the distance between your faces.
This near to him, your aura gently probed his, and where the two touched it created crackles and sparks unperceivable to the human eyes. His breath fanned lightly across your cheek in a sensual caress.
Just as your lips were about to touch his, you stopped. You whispered, “Sebastian.”
Sebastian found he quite liked the way his given name sounded on your tongue. The corners of his lips tilted up.
“There are three people staring at us through the crack in the door~”
At this, the kitchen door flew open, and three people you had never seen before in your life fell sprawling across the floor.
Without turning, Sebastian said, “Baldroy, Mey-Rin, Finny, please attend to the Master’s requests. I hear his bell calling.”
You peeked over Sebastian’s shoulder (which was quite the difficult thing considering he was over six feet tall) to watch the three–servants, you presumed–struggle to disentangle themselves from each other.
Stepping around the black-suited butler (who was really quite annoyed at the turn of events even though he had known of the three servants’ presence for quite a while now), you moved towards the mess that was the Phantomhive servants and offered your hand with a close-eyed smile to the younger blond.
“Would you like some help?”
Finny’s viridian eyes widened at your kindness as he took your hand, stuttering over his words of thanks.
Then, swiftly, he took off, nearly yanking the door from its hinges in his haste, leaving you blinking curiously after him.
The spectacled girl and the smoking man quickly followed.
You rotated around to Sebastian, who had witnessed the whole scene with a smile on his face, though deep down he was sighing over the whole debacle.
“Well, let’s feed the cats, shall we?”
And you continued on like nothing had ever happened.
“Would you like a chair to sit upon?” Sebastian asked courteously, slightly amused at your choice of seating arrangements.
From your place amidst the kittens on the floor, you glanced up at him briefly and declined. The corners of your lips quirked as a tan-streaked British Short-Hair kitten tumbled all over itself, rolling around over your spread silver-hued skirts in playful abandon.
The cats and kittens alike were very satisfied, to say the least. They had had their fill of food, and you noticed that, instead of water, Sebastian had graced them with a treat of milk.
It seemed the demon butler had a soft spot for cats.
That bit of information would come in handy later on.
Sebastian watched you from the corner of his eye as you played with the cats. You were quite the interesting demoness; beautiful, in the aesthetic sense, though he knew that both his and your appearances were merely masks. And best of all, he had surmised, you were a cat demon–the way you had reacted to Pluto and the easy communication you had with the cats were both signs that pointed to it. It wasn’t like you were hiding it.
But he wasn’t looking for a consort currently. He was completely focused on obtaining his meal. But you would be a nice side dish. Theoretically speaking, of course.
He could sense that you weren’t as strong as he was, but you came close. Things would be interesting, if things turned out any way he thought it would.
Sebastian’s eyes gleamed an intense red before fading as he heard Ciel’s summons from across the mansion. You appeared to have heard it too, because when you looked up, your eyes met his. With a crisp bow, Sebastian said, “The young master calls.”
Nodding your understanding, you returned your attentions to your cats, only to discover that the British Short-Hair had wandered off.
Briefly, you allowed your eyes to be restored to their natural slit-pupils in order to locate the kitten. Your sharp eyes pinpointed the feline slipping through the crack in the door to–no doubt–follow the demon butler to the next room.
You laughed softly.
A nearly inaudible creak of the hinges caught your attention, and you glanced up–remembering only at the last minute to conceal your eyes–and saw the young, strangely effeminate blond boy from earlier peeking around the door.
Smiling invitingly, you gestured to him with one hand, and he slowly inched in, as if afraid he would be scolded.
One of the more playful cats, the Chartreux, batted at his foot with a paw. Copper eyes gazed up at the boy as if to say, “Pick me up?”
The boy’s shining emerald eyes softened, and he obliged, carefully picking her up. Then, he looked at you, biting his lip.
“I’m sorry to intrude, m’lady. I only wanted to thank you properly for earlier and to play with…” He trailed off, an embarrassed flush appearing on his cheeks. Your lips curved prettily at his response.
Sebastian may have had a soft spot for cats, but you had a soft spot for cat lovers.
“It’s completely fine,” you said, patting the space beside you on the floor after nudging a couple of napping felines to the side to make room. He sat beside you gingerly, taking care not to sit on any tails or to disturb any of the sleepers.
You introduced yourself with a smile. “So, may I know your name?”
“O-Of course! I’m Finnian, the Phantomhive gardener! But you can call me Finny!”
“It’s delightful to meet you, Finny~”
Once Finny seemed to realize that you were harmless–the thought almost made you laugh–he relaxed a little. His eyes sparkled and he asked eagerly, “Are they your cats?”
You chuckled and shook your head. His face fell a little.
Tapping his cheek gently to get him to look at you, you said lightly, “The thing about cats is that they don’t really… belong to anyone, per se. Cats are usually very solitary, independent creatures, and I’m afraid they don’t like being tied down, even if they do have an owner.”
Finny tilted his head to the side, seeming to understand.
“Take for instance,” you continued, “the Bengal tiger. Have you ever seen a Bengal tiger, Finny?”
“Only in pictures,” he said, a wistful look on his face. It was obvious that he loved animals. You ducked your head to hide your smile.
“They’re truly some of the most magnificent felines on this earth,” you said. “But they live alone. They don’t live in family units; the males play no part in raising the cubs, and once the cubs are grown up they’re gone.”
A Korat kitten was beginning to stir at your rhetoric, and she yawned cutely before crawling into your lap and burrowing there. Your eyes glanced briefly at her but then settled on the straw-hat that rested on the nape of Finny’s neck. In a deliberately pleasant tone, you extended your hand towards it. “May I?”
Finny seemed a little uncertain, but you smiled agreeably. “Only for a moment,” you reassured.
He hesitated a moment longer before undoing the string and handing it over to you. You thanked him and set the hat atop the Korat’s head. The headgear nearly swallowed the poor thing in its entirety. She meowed in complaint.
Finny laughed and you beamed, pleased.
His eyebrows then slanted downwards in a thoughtful expression as he processed the information you had given him. His hand absently petted the Chartreux in the crook of his arm. “Aren’t Bengal tigers only in Asia, though?”
“India, specifically.” You nodded. You were glad that he seemed to be educated to a point. Looked like the Earl wasn’t as cold as you had heard he was.
Finny’s eyes sparkled. “Wow! You’ve been to the east! Where else have you been?”
“I’ve been to many places in my life,” you said evasively, gazing deeply into the Korat’s peridot eyes, though not really seeing her, if the far-off look on your face was any indication.
“You sound as if you’ve been around for a long time!” Finny exclaimed. “But you can’t have, you look too young and pretty.”
His comment served to snap you out of your thoughts, and you gave him a teasing grin. “Now, now, Finny, it isn’t polite to insinuate about a woman’s age.”
“Ahaha, it’s quite alright.”
Your gaze was drawn to the door just seconds before it opened, revealing Sebastian. He gave Finny a look, and the blond hastily got to his feet, accidentally dislodging the Chartreux, who meowed at him.
Taking his hat back, Finny quickly said goodbye and then took off, skirting around Sebastian with an “Eep!”
You pouted, a little put out by the departure of the boy. He was an interesting one, just like his master and his demonic coworker. Judging by that tattoo on the back of his neck, the boy had been experimented upon. You wondered what the after-effects were.
You smiled an vulpine smile. The Phantomhive Estate was just full of surprises.
“The Earl has extended his invitation for you and your employer to stay the night. Would you like to see your bedchambers?”
A mildly surprised look crossed your features. “Mr. Jennings agreed?”
Sebastian smiled congenially, eyes closing. “Mr. Jennings offered to stay at a hotel in town, but the Earl would have none of it and granted his hospitality.”
You cocked your head to the side–this was an unexpected turn of events–but returned his pleasant expression with one of your own. “Then I would like to see my sleeping quarters, please.”
Dusting yourself off, you stood and mentally ordered the cats to behave themselves and to beware of that dog outside. Some rubbed against you in pleasure, and others simply radiated their delight through their thoughts. They truly were being spoiled.
Sebastian raised one dark brow as you joined him, and the two of you began walking. “Are you not going to cage the cats?”
“Oh, they can take care of themselves.” You smiled, and said nothing more.
Sebastian led you to a hallway which stretched for what seemed like miles, both sides occupied with dozens upon dozens of doors. He showed you to one in the very middle and opened it.
“This is to be your bedroom for the duration of your stay. Mr. Jennings is situated right across from you.”
You peered into the room lit by a single candle. Despite the gloom you had no problem seeing. The typical mix of cast-iron and brass made up the shell of the bed. Snowy white canopies and drapes fell in swathes over and around it. The bed itself was furnished with what seemed like dozens of down pillows, reflecting the Renaissance style so popular at the time.
A small fireplace glowed tepidly in the corner, chasing away the chilly drafts so common to England. You also spied a small mahogany bureau on which your small bag of possessions sat, as if waiting for you.
Noticing your observation, Sebastian said, “Finny and Baldroy brought in your luggage, as well as your master’s. Would you like me to attend to anything else?”
Well that was quite… thoughtful. Now you didn’t have to go down to the carriages and fetch anything like some sort of lap dog. “No, but thank you.”
“Will you be attending dinner tonight?”
You shook your head and affixed a properly apologetic expression to your face. “I’m dreadfully tired. I’m afraid I’ll have to skip on dinner tonight. Will you give the Earl my apologies?”
“Certainly. I bid you goodnight.”
You barely heard the sound of the door closing behind you as Sebastian left. But as soon as you heard the lock click shut, you immediately shed your clothes in favor of your floor-length nightgown and settled in for a catnap in the large, luxurious bed.
“Sebastian. Are our guests settled in?” Ciel twisted the sapphire ring around his thumb, staring out through the window of his bedroom and into the night as he waited for the demon’s answer. Shadows moved amongst the trees, and once or twice he thought he saw a pair of glowing eyes gazing at him from the tenebrosity.
“Yes, my lord. Mr. Jennings went to bed an hour ago. And the young lady has not emerged from her bedroom.”
“Good. Keep an eye on them, Sebastian. Especially the girl. I have a feeling that–if what you have told me is true, and she is a demon–that they may be contracted, as we are. And if that be the case…. she may attempt to kill me tonight.”
Sebastian bent at the waist in a bow, the longer strands of midnight hair that framed his face falling to shadow it and the dark smile that adorned it.
“Yes… my lord.”
Closing the door soundlessly behind you, you turned and stealthily began to make your way forward, a hungry smile on your lips.
The soft cloth of your nightgown brushed noiselessly against your ankles every once and a while, and strands of your unbound hair curled and tangled around your shoulders. Your eyes shone in the shadowy gloom of the hallway, flashing brightly and briefly as you stepped into an expanse of moonlight allowed by a window.
Sebastian observed with cutting red eyes from the cover of darkness.
He watched as fleetingly, you paused in front of Jennings’s room, your face turned at a certain angle that prevented him from seeing your expression.
Then, to his surprise, you meandered off in the opposite direction of his master’s bedchambers, travelling down the stairs and disappearing in a seemingly random direction.
Curious now, because he had been so sure that you would target Ciel–or at least attempt to contact Jennings–Sebastian followed, silent in his pursuit.
He found you in the kitchen, tiptoeing around on dainty bare feet as you muttered to yourself, clearly in search of something.
“Now where is it? This is the kitchen; there must be an icebox somewhere…”
“If you move to the left and check in the third cabinet, you shall find what you seek.”
“Oh!” Your body jerked in a very good enactment of human surprise.
Sebastian’s lips curled upwards in a smirk. He wasn’t deceived. Your heart-rate hadn’t changed at all, unlike if you had really been startled; after all, you had been aware of his presence the whole time.
“Oh,” you repeated, a hand on your chest. You were quite the actress. If it had been anyone else, they would’ve been fooled, even without the guilty look on your face. “You caught me.”
“If you are hungry, I could prepare something,” Sebastian offered politely, stepping forward so that he could speak in a softer tone.
“No, no.” Taking his advice into mind, you found the icebox and opened it, eyes lighting up quite enticingly as you found what you were looking for.
Sebastian took the bottle from your hand and found a petite china cup, pouring the milk into the small container.
He nearly chuckled as the corners of your lips turned down into a pout. Clearly you had wanted the entire bottle, greedy demoness you were.
Your keen sight caught the thick trickle of milk that slid down the bottle’s side, following its path as it made its way to colourlessly stain Sebastian’s gloved left index finger.
He saw your eyes intensify and sharpen as the pupil returned to its innate slit shape, and watched as you slowly and deliberately took the bottle from his hand and set it on the counter.
Gradually, with your eyes locked on his the whole time, you lifted his hand to your lips, mouth opening just enough to close around the milk-dampened fingertip.
Warmth engulfed the appendage as you suckled sensually, drinking in all hint of the taste of milk.
Dragging your teeth down to the very tip of his finger, you used the cusps of your teeth to dig into the cloth there, and slid off the glove with a single graceful tug.
Sebastian’s eyes flared crimson, and you smiled, ever-so-slightly pointed teeth bared in a catty grin. Removing the glove from your mouth, you folded it in agonizingly unhurried movements, taking your time. Finally, you finished, and tucked it away into his pocket.
You raised the hand not occupied with holding his wrist to finger his tie, starting with the knot at his neck and ending with the wide tail at the bottom. Gazing up at Sebastian beneath long lashes, you smirked.
Then, none-too-gently, you wrenched his head down to your height, causing your lips to crash together in one roughly pleasurable motion.
Hungrily, Sebastian devoured your lips, growling lowly into your mouth when you refused him passage. He tried to force his way in, but in reprimand you bit his tongue, the taste of his blood tainting both of your mouths.
Only then did you allow him to dominate the kiss, opening your mouth for him. His lips worked ravenously against yours, as if they desired only to swallow you whole.
And then, he was gone.
Not ruffled in the least by his disappearance, you turned. Your eyes travelled to the bottle of milk left on the counter, beads of condensation rolling down its glass sides. A pleased look appeared on your face and you took the container in your hand and lifted it to your lips, drinking it straight from the bottle.
A quiet meow from the floor and luminescent copper eyes reminded you of what you had to do, and you set the bottle down and hefted the feline into your arms instead.
“Time to go,” you whispered softly, scratching the cat beneath her neck.
The Chartreux nuzzled her face into your chest and purred.
“Sebastian!” Ciel said sharply as the man with the crazed brown eyes took a shot at him.
A dark blur crossed the expanse in front of the young boy, and the bullet was harmlessly deflected to the side.
“You’re late,” Ciel said shortly, scowling as Sebastian bowed slightly.
“My apologies, master.”
Ciel scoffed, azure eyes averting to the side. “Sebastian, I order you–”
“A demon!” the man shrieked, pointing wildly at Sebastian, eyes fixated on the Faustian mark on his left hand. Ciel’s gaze instantly snapped to the butler’s bare hand, which was indeed missing a glove.
“Sebastian, where is your glove?” Ciel demanded.
Sebastian swiftly reached into his pocket and pulled on the glove, still damp from your administrations to it. He dipped his head and reiterated, “My apologies, master.”
Ciel opened his mouth to further berate the demon but was distracted by the man’s sudden change in demeanor.
The man calmed, smoothing his hair back and straightening his clothing. With a haughty smile, he proclaimed grandiosely, “Wait until all of England–no, the entire civilized world learns of your foul contract with the devil.”
He took two long strides forward, gun still aimed dead-center at Ciel’s forehead. The Earl stared unwaveringly past the barrel of the gun and into the clearly manic man’s eyes.
“The great Phantomhive, relying on a vile demon to get his affairs done. It’s despicable.”
“And why would they believe you, Mr. Jennings?” Ciel said distastefully, a disgusted look on his face. How dare this nobody try to demean the Phantomhive name. “They would believe a demented, sad, pathetic excuse of a man who only inherited his wealth by murdering his only remaining family? I sincerely doubt that.”
Jennings’s face lost all color. “You have no proof.”
“Oh, but I do.” Ciel lifted his chin and regarded the man as if he was a cockroach. “See, a certain maid by the name of Tabitha miraculously survived the great fire that consumed the Howsham Estate, and was able to catch a glimpse of the culprit who started the fire…”
“You’re lying! You’re lying, you’re lying, you’re LYING!” Jennings screamed, pulling the trigger over and over again.
The bullets ricocheted innocuously off to the side as Sebastian rushed the human, effortlessly disarming Jennings and pinning him to the floor.
The mentally unstable man screeched loudly enough to wake the dead, wriggling furiously in Sebastian’s iron grip. Ciel sent Sebastian a sharp look, and the demon butler swiftly knocked Jennings unconscious, silencing his shrieks.
Sebastian stood, dusting imaginary specks of dirt off his impeccable suit and calmly encircling the murderer’s wrists with a pair of handcuffs.
Three curious pairs of eyes peeked through the doorway, too afraid to speak up but unwilling to leave. Ciel, without turning, said, “Contact Scotland Yard.”
Baldroy, Mey-Rin, and Finny straightened up, almost laughably serious expressions on their faces as they saluted the thirteen-year old. “Yes sir!”
“Sebastian,” Ciel began once they were gone, “apprehend the demon he is contracted to.”
“He is not contracted, master. I would have sensed it.”
“Then why–” A vein pulsed in Ciel’s temple. “Why did you lead me to believe he was?”
Sebastian smiled pleasantly, tilting his head to the side. “What do you mean, master? I never said a word about Mr. Jennings being contracted. I merely said that the lady was a demon.”
Ciel’s eye twitched. Then scowling, he turned brusquely and crossed the room.
“Sebastian, tell those buffoons that I will come to Scotland Yard in the morning for their report. If you happen upon the demoness, capture her. I am going to bed.”
“Yes, my lord.” Sebastian bowed to Ciel’s retreating back, and went to do as he was ordered.
Sebastian stopped at the sound of a soft meow, raising an eyebrow as a silver cat rubbed itself against his ankles, effectively pausing his late-night–really, early-morning–rounds of the mansion as it twined its body sinuously between his feet.
Setting the candelabra down on a nearby windowsill, he picked up the feline and stroked its fur, eliciting pleased purrs from the cat.
After all of the commotion, Scotland Yard arrived to arrest the man. Sebastian had to explain that his master was very tired, and that he would give his testimony the following morning. The humans–especially that Randall fellow–were especially obstinate, but once they saw that Ciel had no intention of meeting with them, left.
When he had returned to the kitchen to follow the second half of his master’s orders, unsurprisingly, you had vanished. Your bedchambers looked as if untouched, your belongings gone and not a single thing disturbed. Regrettably, he had to report this to his master, who had been very displeased but had not ordered him to pursue you any further.
At least, not yet.
Sebastian was torn from his thoughts when the cat in his arms bit down upon his left index finger, successfully seizing his attention. Frowning, he lifted the feline to eye level, and then abruptly ceased all movement. Sebastian narrowed his eyes.
A pair of familiar eyes gazed up at him, looking suspiciously mischievous.
Then, the slit pupils blinked at him slowly, one eye closing before the other, so it appeared as if the cat were winking at him. Whiskers twitched in a way so that it looked like it was smiling.
“Hello again, my dear.”
Note that Ciel never comes into contact with the cats. XD So what do you guys think? Ahaha, Kuroshitsuji's hard. And writing a fic of this length in one go was surprisingly difficult. *wipes forehead* I hope I did okay.