"Death is No Respecter of Demons"

Part 1:
"His Butler: Tailor Made"

"Negotiations have been dragging on for hours…" the young Lord mused irritably to himself as his guests bickered over their glasses of Port. "Why must difficult business dealings be encumbered further by unnecessary pettiness and quarreling? See an advantage and take it, simple as that!" He doodled absently in his ledger, looking to all the world as if he were mindfully taking notes. "Trying to walk away from the table with your meal as well as your associate's accomplishes nothing but to keep you all firmly planted in place, moreover in my sight, here. How can the lot of you expect to move forward at all in your own endeavors whilst drooling over each other's?" The thought made Ciel's brow furrow. "Hmph! And they say I am the child!" He leaned forward, his hand clenched tightly around his glass, his lips parted, his tongue readied its sharp and vast repertoire of thinly veiled and insulting witticisms, his index finger raised in a reproachful tone, his lungs filled with venomous air,

"GHOST! NOOOOOOOO!"

Caught in mid-breath Lord Phantomhive's authoritative air ended in a startled hiccup as all eyes averted toward the study doors, the direction from which the panicked voice had hailed from. Ciel managed to register a name to which the voice belonged only moments before the doors to the study flew wide open and what appeared to be a monstrous mass of wet fur, paws and soap bubbles bounded through them, chasing *wait…Is that a cat?!*, and headed straight toward Ciel's frozen person. Directly behind it followed a young girl, equally wet and soapy, trying desperately to catch the animal and looking positively mortified.

Time seemed to slow to a ridiculously impossible rate as the beast pursued its prey onto the negotiation table, sending monthly reports flying and both gentry and businessmen of more questionable repute scrambling to get out of the way.

Finger still poised in the air and voice quaking with the effort to retain self-control, Lord Phantomhive managed a deadly quite, "Karma…"

"GHOST! HEEL!" the young girl commanded, still in chase. "BAD BOY! BAD, BAD BO…"

Her well shod foot landed in the trail of suds left on the highly polished floor as her legs flew out from under her, in a decidedly unladylike fashion. "WHOAAAAAAAAAAA!"

Ciel shot up, craning over the edge of his desk in time to see Karma disappear beneath the small table in front of him, "KARMA! Bloody hell, woman, can't you contr…"

Ghost, who had slid to a stop atop the table, looked quite pleased with himself at obeying his master's commands. Ciel's eyes widened as Ghost's body crouched and tensed, the dog's obtuse eyes squinting shut in anticipation. Naturally a job well done calls for an equally well deserved shake, does it not?

"oh no…"

A spray of soap bubbles, bath water and drool gracefully arched around the animal as he enjoyed a refreshing toss. His prey had been vanquished, his master had been acquiesced to (as any dog worth his salt should do) and now his coat was nearly dry. Ghost certainly had no doubt that life couldn't be better! All was well in the world and he demonstrated this sentiment with an enthusiastic bout of tail wagging, which presented a whole new wave of unpleasantness for the attending party.

Sudsy water dripping from the ends of his raised finger, nose and hair, Lord Phantomhive's flushed and murderous face seemed to fall into that of resignation, as of one who must have become somewhat accustomed to such insane happenings. Indeed, one could say he rather expertly conformed to his present, bizarre situation.

Calmly, Ciel turned to his left, addressing his head butler. "Sebastian,"

"My Lord?" Sebastian chimed from behind an opened umbrella, snapping it shut. Ciel felt his blood pressure rise as his man's demeanor remained light and altogether too cheerful for his liking.

"He's enjoying this!" Lord Phantomhive seethed to himself. Then he noticed the small black bundle in Sebastian's arms.

"YOU SHIELDED THAT CAT?!"

With calm dignity Sebastian simply answered, "You were in no danger of bodily harm, my young master, and cats are so adverse to water…"

"YOU IDIOT!" Ciel bellowed. "I'VE A GOOD MIND TO…." A pointed glance from Sebastian brought the young master back round to the situation at hand.

"Tissue?" Sebastian offered, a gleeful, menacing glint in his eyes.

Ignoring the taunt, Ciel slowly turned about, refocusing his attention back to his aghast business partners. "Well, the lot of them look about as foul as they smell now, at least." he thought. A certain satisfaction lightened Ciel's mood while watching Lord Woodward ducking frantically to avoid being lashed with Ghost's whip-like tail.

"My apologies, gentlemen!" Lord Phantomhive announced with an air of feigned deference. "I'm afraid this evening has hit a rather disastrous snag. Allow us to continue in the smoking lounge once you all have been properly attended to."

"Sebastian," he began again, having regained his composure. "please see to our distinguished guests. They will need a change of clothing and a place to freshen themselves." *Not to mention a hot Brandy.* he finished to himself with ire. Eyeing the offending animal sitting on the table, he added "And get this wretched cur out of my study!"

"Of course, my Lord." Sebastian cooed. "Right this way, gentlemen, if you please." He smiled to the group as he led them away, soothing ruffled feathers with his charm and poise, as was his way.

From around the hall Mey-Rin, the house maid, reached the study doors. Based upon her abrupt halt and her hands darting to her mouth, Ciel assumed she was conveying shock. Assume is all one really could do when one is incapable of reading another's expression due to the ridiculously oversized spectacles covering half her face.

Mey-Rin ventured a timid assessment, more to herself than those around her. "What's all this, then? Everything's a mess!" Then, with no small amount of elation, "Everything's a right mess and I didn't do it, no I didn't!"

"Mey-Rin," Lord Phantomhive spoke in his characteristically even tone as he straightened himself, minding his impeccable posture. "See to Lady Karma."

And then to Mey-Rin's perplexed question, "Lady Karma, master?" he gestured irritably to the floor, "There."

Ciel flatly continued, "I doubt you'll find anything hurt or broken…*I'm sure her thick skull protected her well enough*…even so, take her to her rooms and examine her properly. Send for the doctor if need be and apprise me of any problems."

"Of course, master!" then gingerly to the table she beckoned "Lady Karma?"

Lovely blue eyes peeked back hesitantly at Mey-Rin from the shadows.

"Lady Karma, if you'll just come with me, please." Mey-Rin coaxed, offering her hand to the Lady. "We'll get you all fixed up, yes we will."

A small, bare hand appeared from beneath the table and took Mey-Rin's, followed directly by its owner.

Ciel glowered at her but softened slightly at the sight of the pathetic creature before him. She didn't say anything, but then Karma rarely had to. She wore her sentiments on her sleeve, and at the moment every inch of her being was apologizing miserably. Tears welled up in her eyes.

"Well go on then." he sighed. "Clean yourself up before you catch your death in those wet cloths. I'll have Sebastian bring you some hot chocolate in a bit."

After a moment of stunned silence Karma threw her arms around Ciel's neck in a bone crunching bear hug. Caught off guard the young lord nearly toppled over, catching himself on the edge of his desk.

"K..AR..MA!" he gasped, trying to breath. "A…I…R!"

She sheepishly released her grasp and beamed at him. Turning she grabbed Mey-Rin's hand and bounded toward the door.

"AHEM!" Ciel crossed his arms. "Aren't you forgetting something?" At her blank face he prodded further, "Something large and rather smelly, perhaps?" Without missing a beat Karma spun around, latched onto Ghost's collar and drug the dog along with a startled Mey-Rin out the doors and down the hall.

"Freak." he muttered.

Karma was a pretty little thing, Ciel had noted. Big sky blue eyes and dark auburn hair complemented her fair, flawless complexion perfectly while her slight build belied the uncommonly brutish strength she seemed to possess. She was older than Ciel by only a year, making her just barely fourteen, yet far more socially awkward and inexperienced than most girls her age by that time in life. Sebastian had even commented privately to him that "upon observation the young Lady seems to possess the beauty of a swan while all the grace and eloquence of a one legged penguin. How unfortunate."

That is, assuming she was a Lady at all. Terrified, hunted and half-starved she had been found by the duo in one of London's seediest back alleys. It seems nobody really knew anything at all about her. Not even Karma. The poor thing appeared to be suffering from some kind of amnesia, so she was absolutely no help in determining her own identity. All that was known for certain was that she claimed to have awoken in a cage lined with straw in some cottage cellar in the country with no idea of who or where she was. The small, weathered prison she was being kept in had rusted a bit, and the hinges had been fragile enough to eventually give way with enough kicking. And then there was the dog. An albino Great Dane she had found in that same basement, also in a cage. The dog seemed to have a great affinity for the girl and acted as her guardian. Perhaps it was her dog from the life she couldn't remember. It would certainly help to explain how a typically noble breed would find its way to a cage in the cellar of a country cottage.

There was a curious combination of indications of nobility as well as traits of a common street urchin that left the ultimate determination of her fate up in the air for the moment. Her tattered, nearly unrecognizable, clothing was of expensive cloth and well made. Her hands and feet were free of callouses, suggesting a life of leisure rather than one of hard work and daily toil. She spoke with a certain genteelness and expressed unconscious but learned mannerisms that are typically seen in the upper classes of London society. In the way she held her tea cup or in the manner of her gestures on the rare occasions in which she conversed with others, for example. She also seemed well educated, reading and writing with ease, and took to the Phantomhive Piano-Forte with great proficiency.

On the other hand, her diminutive, shy nature seemed to point to having been raised in a disciplinarian household, barely speaking unless spoken to…and then only enough to answer. Children from affluence tend to be rather willful and outspoken, having been raised in privilege and with a certain idea of entitlement. She did, however, hum quite frequently to herself and always the same, haunting tune. Doing so seemed to calm her. Her only adornment was a rather worn, obviously hand-made pendant tied to a bit of old string. Of course, any true jewelry could (and most certainly would) have been removed by her captors, but then why wear this bit of rubbish? Her shoes were missing entirely.

The decision to take her back to the Phantomhive manor rather than dropping her off at the nearest half-way house came only after her pursuers caught up with them along the way. At that point it became rather plain that she was not safe among the general populace. She was obviously not a victim of chance but rather a victim of certain intent. Someone wanted her. But why? Should she turn out to be nobility after all, neglecting to properly care for and protect her would be disgraceful and upholding the Phantomhive image was of paramount importance to the young Earl.

It was during the ensuing scuffle with her would-be kidnappers that her unusual strength and fighting prowess became apparent. After Sebastian had easily dispatched the first two assailants, the shrinking violet became a raging tiger lily in a flurry of well landed punches and kicks, shocking her two new acquaintances into silence. Even Sebastian stopped in mid-attack. Watching her could have been almost beautiful if it hadn't seemed so incredibly at odds with perceived reality. She reacted with the instincts of a lioness, ducking and dodging, jabbing and kicking. No common item lying about the ally was overlooked as an opportunistic weapon. Posts, bricks and even chains became deadly when utilized correctly.

Not to be outdone, the dog (who, at that time, was only called "dog" as he had no official name) managed to get in his own blows, at one point attaching himself firmly to the arse of one of the last, fleeing ruffians.

"Well, that was not at all ladylike." Ciel had remarked flatly.

Karma giggled and curtseyed at the two of them, then turned and praised "dog" for being such a good boy.

Sebastian, bemused and impressed, leaned in close to Ciel and whispered "Would you have been more satisfied had she sat down and wailed helplessly like a proper English Lady, My Lord?"

"Shut up." Ciel had mumbled crossly as he stalked away.

That was nearly three weeks ago, Lord Phantomhive sighed. "And now here we all are, plus one more for good measure, I suppose."

"Two, if you count the dog."

The young lord was roused from his thoughts by his butler's self-satisfied voice as he swept back into the study.

"Well, I hope it doesn't put them out too horribly having to take this season's bath a few days early. I dare say we'll all be the better for it, anyway." Glancing around he added, "By the by, where is the 'wretched cur' I'm to remove, anyway?"

"Karma saw to him." Ciel replied absently, staring out the window without really seeing anything. "When, exactly, is Lady Elizabeth supposed to arrive, again?"

Sebastian smirked as he busied himself with retrieving and sorting the scattered paperwork. "Tomorrow, mid-day, My Lord. Along with the temporary 'tutor' for our young guest."

"And still no word from the Yard on any missing young women? Nothing at all?"

"Nothing that fits our lady's description, no, My Lord."

"I suppose we should start considering alternative options."

"My Lord?"

Ciel turned and glared at the butler, who was giving him his best insipidly blank expression.

"Well, she bloody well can't stay here, now can she!"

"Of course not, My Lord." Sebastian agreed condescendingly, blotting the papers dry with a cloth.

His attention once again on nothing in particular out the window, Ciel bemoaned his plight. "Between your three muppets, my daft fiancé, my soul sucking butler, and now our mysterious amnesiatic ninja with her damned barking pony I'll never know another moment's peace."

"Indeed, Sir. It's all very regrettable." Sebastian simpered.

"Don't you have guests you should be attending to?" Lord Phantomhive hissed.

"Of course, My Lord. We should be ready to reconvene in twenty minutes."

Suspicious, Ciel watched Sebastian blot the last paper and prepare to take his leave. "You managed to find clothes for all of them? I highly doubt any of my own would have been suitable for even one of them, much less all of them."

"Indeed not, Young Master. Which is precisely why I had to make them new suits of clothes myself."

Ciel gawked in disbelief. "Make? New Clothes? All of them?"

"Yes, of course, My Lord." The butler answered simply, blinking as if he were surprised at Ciel's reaction. "Their own suits reeked of wet dog. Those clothes need to soak in a 1:1 vinegar rinse for at least half an hour, then be hung out to dry in a sunny spot for the better part of a day. Goodness, I certainly had no time for all that!"

With that Sebastian turned on his heel, documents in hand, and gracefully floated across the room to the entrance. Looking back into the room at his frustrated master with impish eyes, he bowed and began closing the double doors.

"After all, if I can't throw together a few fine suits from scratch in less than an hour for my master's business guests…well, then what kind of butler would I be?" His wicked smile disappeared behind the study doors as they quietly clicked shut.

"Hmph!" Lord Phantomhive scowled, annoyed at having been out played this round. "Damn demon."

03/13/2015

Candace Lee Parks