The Lady in Blue

by Die Hexenmeister

Ciel Phantomhive has matured into a man as well as a soul consuming demon. He is still living in the present, 21st Century, along with Sebastian Michaelis. They both have their differences when choosing meals, but what rift will form when they meet a beautiful lady in blue, whom they both start to fall for? Is it really her soul they want, or is it her heart?

1. Chapter 1

Chapter One

There's a strange aura about that man, she thought to herself as he settled at the bar opposite her. Another young man accompanied him, but he still stood a rank below her "prince charming", who harboured sparkling sapphires in his sockets of ivory. His skin was soft and delicate, like that of iris petals. His hair was an unusual shade of black, almost blue, yet there could not have been something so artificial about someone so beautiful. He had a fedora hat placed upon his head and this made his face harder to distinguish. However, she had seen this man many a time before, and has seen the flourishing beauty that his face beholds. She felt her hot blood rush to her cheeks, scaring them a deep pink. Luckily, she had make-up on to disguise the scars, the scars of an overwhelming attraction to this mysterious individual. She would talk to him tonight. She would ask him his name, and like liquid silver it would flow from his lips. She would make him hers.

He had settled on a stool, sipping from a martini glass while he spoke with his companion. Unfortunately, he would be spending this evening alone, as she believed that he belonged with her for tonight. She stood up and walked with vigour over to this young man. She left her chest exposed, so maybe he could sense the pounding heart that she caged inside. She made her presence known with a click of her velvet heels, and he focused his bejewelled eyes upon her. She narrowed her eyes.

"Hello, gentlemen," said she with a sensation of lust laced in her voice. Her desired raised his head, and along with it, the corner of his lips. "Yes?" he said gazing at her, admiring her physique she thought. She couldn't restrain it anymore. She leaned down and whispered sweet nothings into his ear, her voice flowing like melted gold through his head. In the corner of her eye, she saw his companion glaring at her. His eyes sliced through her like the tip of an assassin's blade. She felt disappointed that this man seemed to think so lowly of her lustful deeds, but the blue-eyed prince was the only one she had regard for. He grabbed her hand swiftly, but gently. He ran his lips over her hand, and winked. Her blood was boiling and swashing through her whole body at this point. She let out a frail sigh, beckoning him for more. He threw a glance at his companion, who seemed to have a telepathic connection. He then raised his eyebrow, and brushed a thread of ebony silk from his face. "See you at home," he said without much gusto and walked out of the bar. The blue-eyed prince gazed after him, but his thoughts stayed with the young woman. He took her by the hip, and led her towards the back of the bar, swimming through a river of unknown faces. Faces that weren't immaculate enough to earn the position of this prince's leading lady.

He led her up a flight of metal stairs to a heavy metal door. Although it was heavily bolted, her desired opened it with relative ease. The door swung open, leading them to the isolated roof of the bar. She walked rigidly through; she had a fear of heights. She leaned against the wall, the cold plaster making goose bumps appear on her back. Her desired closed the door behind him, the cold wind ripping through his hair. He walked over to the young woman who was waiting for her embrace, but to her disbelief, he grabbed her wrists forcefully and held them firmly in his hands. He placed his lips upon her neck, and made his way down to her chest passionately kissing and sometimes biting her, making her grimace. Although she felt a needling pain at the bites, she still felt that it was right, that this intensely hot feeling she had was all part of the process. Through a series of pants and heavy breathing, she said "I don't... even know...your-" another grimace, "name".

He came back up to her level, so she could see his face again. "My name," he whispered, "is Ciel Phantomhive". He placed his lips on hers and before she could even contemplate what was going on, she became cold. She could not think and she could not speak. She could not see and she could not hear. She was gone from this earth, ceasing to exist. A mere shade of a colour which has not been born, and was never destined to be.

Ciel stood on the roof of the bar, satisfied with the soul he just devoured. Although he had had higher expectations of her, he had put it down to his own foolishness. He shouldn't have expected a great meal from someone so impure. She was nothing but a bawd.

Now, this bawd was nothing.