Chapter One
I land with a soft thump and tuck my wings into my sides. The glistening black feathers shine in the pale glow of a half moon as I leap forward. I only have one job- to kill the Phantomhive child, Ciel. My employer is a rich English bastard who hired me to kill the boy out of spite and greed—without Ciel around the Funtom Toy Corporation would crumble and the market would be his for the taking. I hate humans like that—dogs who would stain their hands in blood before they relinquished an opportunity to pick up a few more pennies. But, I think, dogs like that pay the bills. One assassination pays for several months of living comfortably, and it only takes several hours of my time. There isn't an easier job in the world. It used to bother me, killing all of these people, but over the past hundred years or so I finally let go of the guilt and accepted the fact that I'm a killer, and that I enjoy killing. I mean, everything about me screams deadly—my speed, agility, strength, and skill with arms. In fact, the two swords that rest on my back at the moment have helped me end more lives than I care to count, and tonight, they will help me end another. I crouch behind a grimy wall as a carriage whirls past and then sprint toward the door of Ciel's London townhouse. I quickly leap up and climb the wall of the townhouse, flying toward the 3rd floor, where I know Ciel is located. I pause outside the window and listen. I hear the murmur of several voices, and I can immediately detect Ciel's, which is much higher pitched than the others. I take a deep breath in and prepare myself as adrenaline shoots through my veins. Blood pounds in my ears as I crash through the window. The next 60 seconds are a blur, as everyone scrambles about in confusion. I somehow manage to locate the boy in the clamor and I leap toward him, sliding my swords out of their sheaths with a hiss. I whip the left one around and prepare to impale him with the silver weapon. But just as I'm about to skewer Ciel through the heart, a blur slams into me, shoving me away from Ciel and onto the glass on the ground. The shards dig into the skin on my back and draws blood. I snarl in pain and fury as my head cracks onto the hardwood of the apartment's floor and glare up at my attacker. What I see shocks me. A tall skinny man with long black hair, pale skin, and blood red eyes stares down at me. How in the fucking hell did such a string bean manage to take me down? I wonder, mystified.
Out loud, I snarl, "Back the fuck off unless you want to die, dumb ass."
"Oh, so I assume you think that you can kill me?" he asks politely.
Instead of answering, I throw myself at him. My left blade whips around and digs into the skin of his forearm, creating a cut 6 inches long and several inches deep. The scent of his blood makes me dizzy. It takes every ounce of my self-control not to lick the blood from his forearm and suck his entire body dry. To placate myself I lash out with my right blade, aiming for his neck and a kill shot. The blade whizzes toward him and a second before it touches his skin, he jerks forward and avoids the weapon. I barely have time to process this before he impales me with a knife. Then another knife, and another, and another. Within a few seconds, my torso is full of 9 of the shiny silver knives. My hand automatically reaches around to my back to see if the blades have actually gone completely through me. The sharp points of nine metal knives brush over my fingertips as I grope around. I gasp in agony as the blood spurts out of the wounds. I yank the knives out of my skin and discover that the blades that speared me so perfectly are butter knives. Jesus Christ who is this guy? A fucking chef? I manage to gather the strength to ask him as much.
He replies with a sly grin, "Why, I am merely one hell of a butler."
I try to retaliate with a bitingly sarcastic remark, but blood gurgles up out of my mouth and I choke on the stuff, spraying it out of my mouth in a fountain of scarlet. The butler leans toward me, grinning, as I black out.