Disclaimer: I don't own Kuroshitsuji! D: But Yana Toboso does. Isn't that awesome? Wouldn't you rather go read her work than sue me since I'm not making any profit off of this?

Dedication: Much thanks to Rebeldynasty, Ravencroft1972, and chaotic one1, without their support and help I'd probably just be sitting here, thinking about life, and not writing this right now. =3 Thank you.


Part One: An Introduction to Demons

Chapter I:
His Master, Unconscious

The rain refused to let up. It crashed down in waves upon the Phantomhive manor; the heavy drops drumming against every window like thousands of anxious fingers. The wind, however, had been far worse as it rattled every pane and howled…just like a child throwing a temper tantrum. In sharp contrast, the inside of the manor was strangely quiet. With the weather so bleak, it was unlikely any company would bother to brave the storm—the garden laid choked and empty amidst the downpour—and there were several hours yet until dinner leaving the maid, gardener, and cook with little to do. Most days, such free time would have resulted in explosions and screams amongst the staff members but, for some unfathomable reason, they had chosen to be silent that afternoon. The butler allowed himself a tiny, fleeting smirk; he, for one, wasn't going to complain about a little silence.

The tea trolley he was pushing gave an odd squeak-rattle of protest as Sebastian turned down a broodingly dim hallway. As soon as he heard it, he filed the information away for later—though it wouldn't do for his young master's trolley to be in anything less than perfect condition, it was simply more efficient to wait until either himself or Baldroy could look at the wheels at their leisure. Besides, if Sebastian stopped because of one small squeak, the schedule would get delayed and his young master's tea would go cold. For Sebastian, who felt deviating from the schedule was a crime worse than murder, putting off looking at the wheels for an hour or so was the lesser of the two evils.

Reaching his destination, he rapped smartly on the door and entered his master's study without further preamble.

Those who were unfamiliar with the young master usually had to stop and give the Earl a second look or spare a small laugh at his expense. Those who knew him were different; the few lucky enough to call him a friend acknowledged that he was cold and harsh, but, beneath that, there was a veneer of fierce loyalty and hard-to-show warmth, while those who were less-than-friendly with the Earl had, at the very least, a grudging respect for him. Ciel Phantomhive didn't particularly care, either way. He was the Queen's Guard Dog; he existed to protect the crown, not to gain the English people's favor—that was for Her Majesty to do. All that said, it was easy to understand why people might mock or coddle him. After all, the Earl was only thirteen. Small for his age and still retaining the soft, almost feminine, features of his youth, Sebastian could easily see why someone might think his young master was weak or easy to take advantage of. In the deep, dark recesses of his mind, the butler allowed himself a self-deprecating chuckle that he vowed would never reach the light of day…if only because he knew perfectly well just how dangerous his master was.

"Ugh, the rats are finally beginning to calm," the young Earl drawled, making a show of his patience having been terribly tried as he refolded and dropped the newspaper uninterestedly onto his elegantly carved desk.

"The dock workers again, young master?" Sebastian inquired, taking a moment to both realize he'd been subtly addressed and to think on why his master would be (pretending to be) in such a mood. He'd noticed the mention of the on-going dock strike in the paper as he had ironed it that morning and, really, it had been such a small incident…was it even worth mentioning? Mentally frowning, he prepared the tea like an automaton. Though he was using one of the finer tea pots, he was not truly focused on it; this was merely an ordinary part of the day—the butler had made tea a thousand times before and, before he met his end, he knew he would make it a thousand times more.

"It's ridiculous to argue over six pence," the boy muttered, his tone both dark and bored.

Sebastian stayed quiet as he poured out his master's drink. On one hand, it would have been extremely amusing to rebuke the boy, point out the hard truths that, while the young master understood, he would never have to suffer through, and then watch as Ci—the Earl regained his composure with annoyed banter that Sebastian had found to have grown increasingly witty as of late. He discarded the thought immediately and forced himself to remember the flip side of replying to the boy: he was playing a butler currently and, with any more delays, the tea was soon to be ruined. Besides, it wasn't difficult for him to see his young master had no desire to be in the same mansion with him, much less the same room. I suspect today is going to be one of those days.

"Indeed, my Lord," Sebastian replied, using his best butler's voice and wearing it as well as one of his tail coats. "If it's of no consequence to you, perhaps we might move along to tea?"

The young Earl had already turned away from him, staring up at his numerous books through his one uncovered eye, and so his only reply was a nod. Or…his only intended reply. The part of Sebastian that was ravenous—that he kept as caged as possible most days because it was not "Sebastian Michaelis", it was something other—found it extremely amusing that the young master seemed unsure whether to tense or relax whenever his butler approached. Of course, it annoyed him in equal parts, as well….

"For tea today, we have a clafoutis of unpitted, rehydrated cherries served with a vanilla mascarpone cream," Sebastian summarized succinctly, placing the plate before his lord. All distractions aside, he'd timed everything quite well. The clafoutis was still hot—the perfect serving temperature—and the cream was just beginning to melt, falling whorishly over the sugar-dusted confection. "Accompanying it is a smokier variety of Keemun tea imported directly from the Anhui province…I believe it will complement the sweetness of the cherries quite well."

The Earl took a slow bite, something like approval momentarily flashing across his face, before he frowned at his tea cup. "Imported directly…?" The frown deepened. "This wouldn't happen to be yet another gift of Lau's, would it?"

"I could not say either way, sir," his butler replied truthfully. Looking at all the tea they had stocked, sometimes it was a miracle he knew where any of them came from. "If it's not to your liking, I can remove it immediately."

"It suits me fine."

"As you say, young master." Sebastian pottered around, completing what necessary menial tasks he had: keeping the coke in the fireplace well stocked to fight against the outside cold and replacing books and documents in their allotted places. He wasn't certain if it amused him or not that Faust was no longer in its long-untouched space, high up amidst the lesser read tomes, nor was it with any of the other books he'd put away. It was…intriguing. Once he'd completed the small tasks, he returned to his master's side to refill his tea cup. "Is there anything else you require of me, sir?"

Say "yes", a tiny voice in the back of his mind hissed. Say you finally want to address that order you gave me in the maze, young master. Say you understand the consequences of those words and that you are willing to accept them finally. Let us put this matter to bed for good. He purposely ignored the other voice in his head that said he was being petulant.

"No," the Earl told him disinterestedly. "There is nothing."

"Very well then, sir; I'll send Snake up to you, then?"

"That would be—"

They were cut off by the loud sound of running footsteps approaching the study. Both master and butler barely had time to glance in each other's general direction before the heavy door burst open and Mey-Rin came toppling inside. The wine-haired maid tripped over the hem of her skirts and she abruptly lurched forward…only to avoid falling flat on her face by grabbing onto the door frame just in time.

"Young master!" she panted before she could be rebuked for running in the manor, regaining her balance. Waving an envelope over her head energetically, she added, "Young master, a letter just came for you; yes, it did!"

"Who from?" the Earl asked, his tone expressionless but his one visible cobalt eye shining with interest.

"H-he wouldn't say, sir," Mey-Rin blurted, barely beginning to regain her breath. "Just said it was important, he did."

"Bring it here then, Mey-Rin," Sebastian instructed, ever patient in actions despite not feeling quite so relaxed mentally, at that moment.

"It's quite alright, Sebastian," the Earl rebuked, standing up. At his butler's inquiring gaze, he went on coolly: "Don't you have other things to be doing than getting my mail, especially when I am present to receive it?"

Sebastian gritted his teeth, forcing his usually unflappable demeanor to remain so as his lord rounded his desk.

"Besides," the boy added, "I—" Whatever the Earl was, the other two didn't find out. He abruptly pulled his hands to his head as though trying to push against a sudden pain building there. The colour drained from his face and he wobbled violently.

The butler saw it as though everything was happening at half-speed. The master tried to regain his balance, but his knees buckled beneath him, seemingly unable to hold his meagre weight any longer. In the distance, Sebastian seemed to hear Mey-Rin shout out in horrified surprise, but, before that could even register fully to him, he'd moved to catch his master. Sprawled on the floor with a firm grip on the Earl, he said sharply to the maid, "Mey-Rin, put the letter down. Phone a physician at once."

Sebastian didn't wait for her to leave as he began checking over his young master. The Earl was unconscious, colour high in his cheeks though the rest of his face was startlingly pale. He pried one of his white gloves off with his teeth and gently pressed his bare hand to the boy's forehead. Little Lord Phantomhive's skin was clammy to the touch and was nearly as hot as the coke in the fireplaces. Sebastian frowned to himself as he pulled his glove back on—hopefully Mey-Rin wasn't so incompetent that she couldn't manage a simple phone call, they were going to need the doctor as soon as possible.

"Really, my lord," Sebastian murmured with a long-suffering sigh as he rose to his feet with Ciel in his arms, "I am beginning to worry about you. If it is not one life threatening situation, it is another. Either you are extremely unfortunate or you're doing it on purpose…."

Such a pity…the tea will be utterly ruined now. And I went through so much trouble to make it perfect, as well….


The London Hospital was exceptionally grim that night. The gas lamps barely permeated the darkness in most corridors and, despite the overworked staff's best efforts, the number of ailing patients far surpassed them.

"This is no place at all for a lady!" Grell Sutcliff, self-proclaimed Queen of the Reapers, fretted, taking in all the ill humans around him. "Oh, that Will! Doesn't he realize what a fragile constitution I have?!" With his brilliant scarlet hair and coat, Grell stood out like a rose in a field of daisies. When one considered that he was meant to be finding a soul of the To Die list, his ostentatiousness seemed very out of place. That said, Grell had been to the hospital quite often and so he knew where was best to avoid the medical staff…not to mention how shortsighted humans were when it came to a supernatural being in their presence. It wasn't that difficult for such a deadly efficient reaper to do. Reconsidering his previous complaint, Grell added fervently, "Oh, but those cold eyes…mmm, almost as delicious as dear Bassy! I suppose I can't stay mad at him for too long…."

Grell strutted down the labyrinth of hospital halls in his stylish red heels, looking for the specific ward his current target was in. He'd already fetched five other souls in the area that night alone; it was…very strange. Very strange, indeed. "Come to think of it," Grell pondered aloud, "everyone has been pulling an unusual amount of over time lately…it's no wonder Will's so sullen." The reaper perked up, grinning wolfishly to himself. "Nothing a few hours of exercise with me wouldn't cure, if I do say so!"

He continued his commentary in his mind as he walked, alternating between annoyance at getting such a small, unimportant job assigned to him (when, clearly, he deserved much better) and thinking of ways to win over all the gorgeous men in his life. The second thought was much more enjoyable than the first. Consequently, Grell almost walked straight past the ward he'd been searching for.

The ward was barely lit and almost entirely empty. Three beds in the long room were occupied by living patients, and another was occupied by the not-so-alive woman Grell had been searching for. She wasn't a pretty little thing, that was for sure. Her hair was like straw and her skin was badly damaged from years of manual labor, her waxy flesh pulled tightly over the bones of her face. The only redeeming quality about her Grell could see was a lovely red ribbon holding her hair back. Grell double checked the To Die list, not wanting to annoy Will or management enough to where they took away his beloved death scythe…again. Sarah Beaumont…the picture on the list matched the woman in the bed and Grell grinned to himself. Deadly efficient, as ever. Now…let's see why the records aren't being as affected as they ought to….

Grell coaxed the cinematic record out of the near-dead woman, watching each bit closely. What he saw nearly caused him to have a complete breakdown. "Not again! It's not fair!"


AN: Hello. *waves* So...this is my second time posting anything for this fandom and I'm still a little nervous. Trying to combine the anime and the manga and some real life historical events have been a real treat so far, but a fun one, at that. For clarification's sake, this fic's canon is up to either then end of the current arc (or maybe the one before it, I haven't entirely decided yet; if it becomes critical to the plot, I'll let you know) of the manga and up to the end of the second season of the anime (which, for my purposes, ended differently; mwahahaha!). ^^ Hopefully that makes it easier to figure out where my head's at. Coincidentally, I'm having too much fun coming up with recipes for this fic; it's like cooking without all the work. =D Anyway, I'm gonna shut up now. I hope you've enjoyed the chapter. ^^ Please review and let me know what you think!