Hello people~! Hope you're all doing well ^_^ Sorry for the wait~! But the next chapter of FN is finally here, longer and (hopefully) better than ever XD

Warnings: Uh, it's set after the Indian arc, so it refers to characters/events that have happened before then~ Also, I should probably warn that there is blood?

Disclaimer: I still don't own Kuroshitsuji, so nothing there has changed ... I do, however, claim ownership of Randall, Vincent and Argentine, and therefore apologise to Ciel and Sebastian for the trouble that those three are causing. (-/\-)

Author Ramblings: To everyone who reviewed, thank you so much! (^o^)/ Sorry it took so long to reply to some of you. Thank you also to the people who have favourited/alerted this story~! Like always, a big thank you to my beta Ryouta, who takes the time to check this story for the dumb mistakes I am bound to make XD

Hope you enjoy the story~ (^_^)b Thank you for reading~

oOoOoOoOoOo

Chapter 3

In the Afternoon: That Butler, Consequence

A fortnight had passed since that anguished meeting.

Ciel had not spoken another word since then, remaining absorbed in a numb silence. If his dull gaze narrowed slightly whenever the dark-haired butler arrived with his meagre meal, Sebastian didn't notice. For some absurd reason, he found it hard to meet Ciel's gaze. It was almost as though he were … afraid to look in the remaining blue eye and see something broken. So he too was silent, exchanging the fresh tray of food with the one on the floor. There were days when the food lay untouched, not a crumb displaced from its original position, and the boy sat huddled against the wall staring into space.

He had been assigned Ciel's care amongst his duties; whether it was a cruel joke, extreme trust (though he doubted that) or just that Argentine couldn't be bothered, he didn't know. For some reason they didn't want the boy to die, though only Ashford was adamant about it – Argentine had been warned that Ciel was not to be harmed and Von Barrett didn't really seem to care either way.

Sebastian had learnt on that first day that they were in Von Barrett's townhouse, although calling it a 'townhouse' was akin to calling a tiger a kitten. His new master was staying here as a guest, technically placing Argentine at a higher ranking than himself. However, the foreign man seemed uninterested in most of the duties of a butler and often left Sebastian to take care of everything himself. A few old servants also lived there too; though hard of hearing, they actually seemed competent in their jobs, much to Sebastian's relief. No longer was the demon interrupted every five minutes to deal with yet another mishap; no longer did he have to put up with those annoyances that seemed to gather around his former master like human flies. He might have jumped for joy at the mere thought of it, were he the type to indulge in such behaviour. But, he thought, thankfully I am not.

If his daytime duties had not changed much with his shift in masters, his night-time duties certainly had. While the city slept, Sebastian found himself sent on missions that generally involved spying on people obstructing Ashford's and Von Barrett's path to power.

Argentine often joined him on these night-time sojourns despite the fact he did nothing during the day, annoying the demon to no ends. Sebastian had lost track of the times he had felt that ice-blue stare on his back and was only offered a slight mocking curve of the pale lips by way of explanation when red met blue. Gloved fingers would twitch, wanting to wrap around that pale neck and squeeze the breath from it, snap the bone and – No. As the Ashford butler, I cannot go and kill the butler of my master's ally, he would remind himself. No matter how much I want to. Their most recent night encounter had done nothing to make Sebastian change his mind.

The room lay in darkness, shadows stretching languorously across the floor, sprawled across the bed and crawled towards the chest of drawers in the corner. Not all of the dark patches were merely shadow, however. Blood was splashed around the room like an artist gone mad, macabre paintings of blotches and spots covering the walls while pools of the red liquid slowly seeped into the carpet. Two shapes were barely visible through the gloom as they stood in the centre of the room. Twin red gleams seemed to reflect the carnage as one of the shapes moved slightly, barely breaking the sudden silence that rang loudly in the aftermath of whatever had taken place in that room.

Sebastian surveyed the mangled ruins he held of what had once been a human being. The man's whimpering had been pathetic; his screaming at the end barely making up for the boredom the demon had been feeling at the start. Rich or poor, it didn't matter when they met their death. The man's soul had been acrid, making Sebastian's mouth twist in disgust at the bitter aftertaste. Still, any scrap of food was a feast for a starving man – and Sebastian had not eaten for a very, very long time.

He dropped the carcass – it could no longer even be called a body; the person who found it would have nightmares for months – into the pool of blood at his feet, being careful not to splash any on his clothes. Bloodstains, he had learnt, were extremely hard to wash out, not to mention he'd have to explain to the maids why there was blood in the first place.

A sudden gust of wind gushed through the open window – the very window Sebastian had used to get into the fool's bedroom. Humans really can be brainless. For all this security, it was all too easy to actually gain entry. Sebastian shook his head, turning away from the corpse.

"Well, isn't this a great work of art," an accented voice drawled. Sebastian half-turned, red eyes flat at the sight of Argentine perching on the window sill. "I must commend your artistic skills. I could smell this several blocks away."

Sebastian turned his back on the other butler, ignoring instincts that screamed for him not to do so. He chose not to reply, instead pulling off his blood-stained gloves with his teeth. I should have closed the window, he thought irritably.

Argentine, it seemed, either did not sense the coolness directed towards him or else did not care. He jumped down lightly from the sill and walked carefully across the carpet, his black coat rustling quietly. Sebastian stepped away as he came closer, but all of Argentine's attention was focused on the blood-soaked remains.

"Who was that?"

"Someone who displeased my master, which is all you need know." Sebastian felt something wet trickling down his cheek. When he wiped it his fingertip came away stained with the dead man's blood. He licked it clean, the blood masking the bitter tang of the man's soul.

"Ah, yes, your precious contract orders." Argentine shrugged. "I forgot." His mouth stretched in a smirking grin, unnaturally sharp canines gleaming white in the pale moonlight filtering through the billowing curtains. Something stirred in the back of the demon's mind, a flash of memory gone before he could even register it much to Sebastian's frustration. He had been racking his brain for the last two weeks, trying to puzzle out the mystery of the foreign butler's existence – Sebastian had a nagging feeling he knew, but could not remember. The only disadvantage to having lived so long – there were so many memories to search!

Argentine had begun to speak again; Sebastian grudgingly returned his attention to the other figure. "– ah, but we are co-conspirators, correct? We should work together as partners." He clapped a hand on Sebastian's shoulder.

Sebastian's eyes flashed crimson, irritation surging through him. He pushed Argentine's hand off his shoulder, perhaps more roughly than he had first intended and stepped away, turning to face the pale man. "If you truly feel that way, perhaps you should take your own share of the household chores, partner." That said, he turned away and crouched down to check that the dead man's face was still recognisable. His … work … would be wasted otherwise.

"Why, when you do such a good job on your own?" Argentine replied lazily, walking off to check the rest of the room and peering into the mirror with interest. "Demons are suited to hard work, anyway. Why would I bother?"

A sharp crack! filled the air, making Argentine jump slightly. Sebastian growled under his breath: in his frustration, he'd snapped the dead man's neck completely, leaving it twisted at an odd angle. Argentine wandered back. "You know, snapping his neck won't make him any more dead. I've heard you demons are wasteful, but –" Amusement was tucked into the corners of his smile and shone in his eyes as he met the disdainful claret glare of his fellow butler. Sebastian stood abruptly.

"We should go. The guards will not stay unconscious forever; it would not do if we were found here," he said, donning his sleek black tailcoat as he walked past Argentine towards the window. Although it would be nice if you were discovered and killed …

"I'll stay."

The demon stopped abruptly and frowned at Argentine in confusion. Argentine raised an eyebrow in return. "To take care of the clean-up," he elaborated, waving a hand at the room. "I don't think even Ginger meant you to spread the man around the room. It might be better if it looked a little more … human-done, perhaps." He shrugged. "Just my advice."

"If I feel a need for your 'advice'," Sebastian told him, voice cold as he tugged on a pair of fresh gloves, "I will ask you for it."

"Very well." Argentine turned away. Sebastian was about to leave when the man commented in an off-hand voice, "If you're so starving, demon, why not just eat the one in Barrett's dungeon?"

Something flickered across the red eyes, an emotion that passed too quickly for anyone to read. Sebastian didn't want to think about Ciel. "Like I said before, I will ask advice if I wish to receive it. What I do is none of your concern." Leaping lightly onto the window sill, the demon's form was silhouetted by the moon for a split second before he leapt off into the night.

Why does that idiot keep following me around? Sebastian wondered, jumping from rooftop to rooftop. He had an hour to get back before Ashford awoke. Doesn't he have anything else to do?

"Ouch!" complained a voice, breaking through the demon's thoughts. "Watch what you're doing! Are you trying to choke me?" Sebastian blinked, still half-caught in his memory as Randall tugged on the ribbon at his neck.

"Forgive me, Master," he murmured, loosening the knot with deft fingers as the red-haired noble 'tch'ed in annoyance. When he was done, Randall sat down on the bed, reading over the notes Sebastian had given him: a report on the results of his nightly spying.

"It seems like the spymaster hasn't caught a whisper of our plans yet. That's good," the noble muttered to himself, leafing through the pages as Sebastian slipped a boot onto his master's foot and began buckling up the straps. "And the other matter?"

The demon glanced up, meeting the sharp crystal green gaze. Randall's fiery fringe veiled the eye bearing the contract seal but Sebastian felt the gaze pierce him as the mark gleamed in warning. Randall may have acted like a carefree noble, but Sebastian could tell that beneath that mask there was a hidden and dangerous side. He had enough experience in reading humans; the Young Master had been exactly the same.

Sebastian's mind came to a standstill. Did I just refer to that brat … as my master …? Why was it so hard to break this habit? He'd never had this kind of trouble before! But then, he had never switched masters mid-contract before; had never even heard of a situation where it had happened. He frowned inwardly. Ciel is not my master anymore. I needn't concern myself over him.

It was the mark of a demon that this process had taken less than a breath of time: Randall waited patiently for an answer. Sebastian gave the tiniest of smirks, covering his sudden uneasiness and replied, "It has been taken care of as you asked, my Lord."

He heard, rather than saw, Randall smile as the butler returned his attention to the other boot. "Good. He had no time to alert anyone?"

"No, Master."

"Even better." There was a rustling of paper. "By the way, Sebastian, how is the brat doing?"

Sebastian froze instinctively. Ciel's anguished face rose up in his mind again, forcing him to close his eyes and try to rid himself of the image. Why was the boy haunting him so? Demons did not feel regret; that was for other beings. Perhaps the loss of a strong soul was what irked him – he would have enjoyed feasting on that energy, feel the torment and anguish of the condemned spirit. Still; the contract was still linked to a strong soul – it seemed his current master had more in common with the Young Ma – with Ciel than just a hidden side to their personality.

With so many thoughts rushing through his head, Sebastian wasn't sure what to reply or even what Randall wanted to hear. He opted for the simple truth. "He's still alive, my Lord."

Slim fingers curled around the butler's chin, forcing him to meet Randall's gaze once again. There was a gleam of cold amusement in those emerald depths. Sebastian kept his own face blank, fighting the memory of another set of fingers and another cruel smile flickering over younger features. Randall tilted his head to the side like an inquisitive bird as he examined the demon's face; for what, Sebastian didn't know. That small smile remained as the noble inquired, "I trust you are taking good care of him, however?"

Sebastian bowed, placing a hand over his heart. It was a useless gesture, utterly meaningless to a demon. The dwellers of Hell are a heartless race. "Of course, my Lord."

Randall held his gaze for a moment longer before dropping his hand abruptly. "Get my coat." As the butler obeyed, the red-head stood and stamped his feet to settle his boots properly. He held out his arms, a silent signal to Sebastian. "Today's schedule?"

"You have a piano lesson at 10 o'clock; after that, you need to review the current stocks of the Ashford business and check the accounts. Viscount Darlington is coming this afternoon for a meeting with both yourself and the Marquess," the demon listed smoothly. He glanced out the window. "As the weather is so fine, would you prefer afternoon tea outside today?"

"No, not if Darlington is coming; we'll be taking it in the map room. Argentine can serve us, so your presence is not required."

Sebastian bowed smoothly, keeping the annoyance out of his expression. I thought so. The map room was the one place in the house he had been expressively forbidden to enter, to the extent that his master had issued a forceful order which he could find no way around. Argentine was under no such restriction; Sebastian had seen him go through that door several times, although whether he actually took part in the meetings was unknown. In fact, that was the only time the demon was rid of his annoying shadow. Red eyes gleamed with frustration. I know that room has to be where they discuss their plans for this coup. Sebastian was still in the dark when it came to their actual plans – he hated not having an idea of what they were up to. His role seemed to be merely spy or silence those that did not like what they heard… like his dinner the previous night.

"Very well, my Lord." Listening at the door was futile; he had a feeling that Argentine stood directly on the other side to prevent such an occurrence. The thought made him smirk. He called me the Young Master's guard dog, but it seems that he is no better than a dog himself. His lip drew back over his teeth slightly, baring canine teeth. And I absolutely hate dogs.

"Although …" Randall glanced out the window. "I may go for a walk in the gardens after lunch. Vinny's usually busy then anyway, and I don't think I could take that sadist's company either."

"Master?" Sebastian was confused. Does he mean Von Barrett?

Randall was still staring out the window, lost in his thoughts. "I wish he'd act more like a butler, or else someone is going to get suspicious. Not that he was ever a good butler when he tried, though." His voice was low, barely above a murmur as he spoke aloud.

Ah. Now Sebastian understood what the redhead was talking about. Was Ciel ever this vague and incomprehensible? he wondered, stepping away from Randall having completed his task. Perhaps if I play this right … "If my Lord doesn't mind telling me, who exactly is Argentine?"

The redhead jerked out of his thoughts, green eye widening a fraction in disbelief as he turned to stare at the demon. Is he being serious? The disbelief only lasted a second before Randall's mouth stretched into a smirk. "You mean you don't know?" When his butler didn't reply, he shrugged. "From what I've heard from Argentine, I'd have thought that you of all people could figure it out, being a demon." Randall paused. "Although I didn't believe Vinny when he first told me."

Sebastian frowned, red eyes troubled. I should know of all people? Could Argentine be a demon? No; that was impossible – he would have sensed it in the man's aura. And how does Argentine seem to know so much about demons? A creature that knows demons, a creature that should be known by demons. Memory twinged again in the back of his mind, calling out to be heard, but fell silent at the sound of the door opening. He glanced up to see Randall disappearing out the door.

"If you don't know, I'm not going to tell you."

oOoOoOoOoOo

Red eyes studied the pale figure standing to the side of Von Barrett as the blonde ate breakfast. Argentine looked to be asleep with his eyes open, so little did he move, although the demon couldn't help thinking that the man probably was sleepy if his half-lidded eyes were any indication. His master was right; Argentine didn't act like a butler at all – if anything, his arrogance was equal to those of noble rank. He probably is fairly high in the hierarchy of whatever society he came from … but if that was the case, what was he doing acing as a butler?

"– this Darlington is a friend of yours?" Von Barrett's low voice rumbled.

Randall nodded, taking a bite of his pancake. "Yes, that's right. I met Clarence in military training. He got a posting as officer straight away because of his rank, but he had the skills for it, unlike most of the idiots I saw. When I made officer as well we watched each other's backs like we had in training. I think he'll join us; at the very least, he won't betray us –" Von Barrett's eyes flickered to Sebastian and back, clearly warning Randall not to say much more. Randall took the hint and fell silent, leaving Sebastian to muse over what he had heard. His master had served in the army? It was hard to imagine him walking that soul-strewn ground.

When breakfast was over, Randall beckoned to Sebastian. As he leant over to hear this request, the noble withdrew from a pocket inside his tan coat an envelope addressed to a name Sebastian recognised as a prominent merchant in London. The red-head handed it to Sebastian, saying as he did so, "I want you to deliver it personally and make sure he gets it, understood? And don't read it." A hand brushed the fringe out of his eyes, purple eye briefly visible. Whether he meant it as a threat or not, the butler couldn't tell, but bowed all the same.

"I would not dream of doing such a thing, my Lord."

He wondered if Randall was nervous – he seemed to display the contract seal much more than Ciel ever had. And well, he should be worried. He had to work hard to stop the hungry smile that threatened to spread across his face.

Footsteps drew his attention. Sebastian found Von Barrett standing before him; Argentine remained over near the door. The noble's cold blue eyes examined him. They were of equal height, unlike his master who was half a head shorter than either of them. It was odd to see the man without a coat, but the fire crackling beside them kept the room warm.

"Vinny, if you've got something to ask him, go ahead, don't just stand there," Randall sighed, wiping his mouth with a napkin.

Von Barrett's eye's flickered towards his younger friend. "I'd appreciate if you didn't call me that." Randall flapped a hand at him airily – yes, yes, whatever you say – and stood up. The blonde sniffed slightly and produced an envelope of his own. "Since Argentine can't deliver it himself, deliver this to the grey house on Pittman Street. You can't miss it."

Argentine reappeared, though Sebastian had not noticed him disappearing in the first place. "Ginger, the housekeeper says your piano tutor has arrived."

Von Barrett placed a hand on Randall's shoulder as the redhead started forward angrily. "Argentine," he said mildly. "Perhaps it would be best not to call Lord Ashford that. I will have no fighting amongst our own ranks." Argentine pouted. The blonde leant over to whisper softly in Randall's ear, the latter still growling until his breath. Sebastian was close enough to hear Von Barrett's words, though they were clearly meant for the younger noble. "And you need to calm down, Randall. If you can let a small thing like that get to you –"

"If it were anyone else I'd be fine," Randall hissed, green eye burning. "It's just him that irritates me."

"Noblemen don't get irritated by such small things. Don't disgrace the name of your house, Randall." He dropped his hand from Randall's shoulder. With an effort, the younger noble's shoulders relaxed.

"I don't know how you put up with that creep," he muttered. Green and purple eyes glanced back, widening slightly as their owner realised Sebastian was still there. A slight flush of pink washed across Randall's cheeks, and he drew himself up. "In any case, make sure you deliver those letters." He swept out of the room after Von Barrett with a stiff back. Sebastian couldn't hep smiling, but quickly composed himself.

Argentine was still standing by the door. "Why are you still here? Shouldn't you be with Von Barrett?" Sebastian asked, suppressing a sigh.

Pale blue eyes blinked at him, before Argentine smirked. "I was just amused to see Ginger stalk off, that's all." His gaze fell on the two envelopes in the demon's hand. "I heard there were two more attacks last night like the ones you were investigating." His smirk widened, clapping a hand on Sebastian's shoulder. "You'd best take care. We wouldn't want you to get hurt, now would we?"

Sebastian irritably brushed his hand away. "Thank you for your false concern, but I don't think I need worry." He pulled the door open with more force than was necessary. As the door closed behind him, he heard Argentine call from inside,

"Who knows, maybe the culprit would like a taste of demon blood next."

The demon ignored him, walking down the hallway and tucking the letters away in his coat. Until Argentine had mentioned it, he had completely forgotten the murders he and the Young M – Ciel had been investigating. By all things unholy, he had to stop this nonsense of calling Ciel his master. The boy was neither his master as a demon or as a butler anymore.

Pushing all of it out of his mind, he checked his pocket watch while ignoring the Phantomhive crest engraved on the front. Hmm … I don't have time to deliver those letters now; I'll have to do it later.

oOoOoOoOoOo

Ciel had lost all sense of time down in his cell. Most of the time he sat slumped against the wall in a daze; legs sprawled to either side, his arms hanging from the shackles above his head. The burning in his wrists and ankles from skin rubbed raw by metal and the dull ache in his empty socket no longer registered in his mind; nor did the blood that trickled down his skin when a wound reopened.

Sometimes the torches burnt out and were replaced by Sebastian. Ciel was barely aware of the demon's presence; he felt hollow, empty, and yet the sight of that familiar black-clad figure made howls of misery tear across his soul. Abandonment, betrayal, hopelessness… Ciel had never wanted to feel those emotions ever again, not since that month. He had sworn not to get close to anyone again, in fear they too would be taken away from him; in case they disappeared forever. It was strange, but somehow he had grown more attached to Sebastian than he had ever wanted. Why was it such a shock to him that Sebastian had betrayed him? Just because he had foolishly ordered the demon to stay did not mean he had the demon's loyalty.

Loyalty? Ha.

There would be no rescue from this place; it had been Sebastian who had rescued him from hell before. No, Ciel corrected himself. He did it not to rescue me – he just wanted to chain my fate to his, to consume my soul.

Sometimes, usually in the times when he drifted between sleep and reality, he thought that he was dreaming his captivity. Surely there would be a gentle knock and Sebastian would come through the door, ready to awaken him from this nightmare. But then harsh reality would set in and the ash-haired boy would be left feeling even worse than before, tears leaking from the corner of his single eye and from beneath his empty eyelid. The sting of the salty liquid sliding across cuts and bruises made him hiss.

Almost on cue, Ciel heard the door to this dungeon creak open and heavy foot-falls on the stone steps. It wasn't Sebastian; the demon walked quietly, another trait he shared in common with the felines he loved so much. Was it one of the nobles, coming to taunt him? A spark of rebellion blossomed within him, intensified by the knowledge that it was not Sebastian he would be facing, giving Ciel the strength to pull himself to his feet with a clinking of chains. He winced in pain as the metal dug into his raw skin, but his eyes glinted determinedly. I am the head of the Phantomhive estate, and these bastards will know it. I will not remain on my knees before them! An indescribable anger thundered through him, warming him as its fire filled him. His remaining eye stared through the gloom, trying to see who had come.

The iron bars of his cell rattled as someone leant on one of the horizontal bars, arms dangling through the gaps. "Well, well, well, what do we have here?" A leering grin flashed sharp white teeth.

Confusion drowned out anger as Ciel stared at the newcomer. I've seen this man before. "Who are you?" He winced at how his voice grated from its long disuse.

Black hair with a distinctive white stripe, a long black coat with straps across the chest … Ice blue eyes met his in amusement, although a look of mock hurt crossed the pale face, so pale it was as though the flickering flames had drained all the colour from the skin. "You don't remember me? I'm crushed." A long nailed hand touched his heart.

Ciel stared at the man when suddenly he recognised him. "You!" he breathed, lip drawing back over teeth. "You were working for them!!" His last words were almost a snarl.

Argentine sighed. "I would have thought that was obvious by now," he drawled, pulling a bunch of keys from his pocket. As Ciel glared murder at him, the key turned in the lock with a resounding thwunk and Argentine opened the door, pocketing the ring of keys once more.

"Allow me to re-introduce myself, Ciel Phantomhive. I am not the fearful priest you thought me to be. My name is Argentine Voltaire … butler to the Marquess Von Barrett. Pleased to make your acquaintance." He bowed mockingly.

"Well, I'm not," Ciel retorted. There was something about this man that reminded him of Sebastian, not least that they were clearly more than a mere butler. There was a similar dark aura around them, a false smile hiding a dangerous, uncontrollable monster. "Why are you here?"

Argentine wasn't listening; his pale eyes were fixed on the torches in the room. A frown passed across his face, and he flicked his fingers at them. The flames winked out, plunging the room into a darker gloom, lit now only by the light beyond his cell. "That's better," Ciel heard the man murmur, sounding satisfied. A rustling of clothes told Ciel the pale man had turned his attention to him. "Why am I here? I just thought I'd see how you were coping without your demon to look after you."

"I can look after myself!" Ciel snapped back. Argentine chuckled.

"Oh, of course. Forgive me for not noticing it earlier. Of course you meant to get yourself chained up in here."

Ciel 'tch'ed in anger. "What makes you think I didn't?"

A snort. "Naturally you wanted to be betrayed by someone you trusted – oh, and have your eye taken from you, leaving you half-blind." Argentine leaned closer, face only a few inches from Ciel's and his breath misting across the boy's face. Ciel tried to step backwards instinctively; but there was nowhere to go. His nose wrinkled at the reek of blood that washed across his senses. "Just what good are you without the demon, brat? You amount to nothing."

"I don't need him," Ciel growled, blue eye flashing. I don't need a traitor.

"Is that so?" the pale man murmured, grasping Ciel's chin and digging his nails into the tender skin when the boy struggled. He chuckled, and leant forward to whisper in Ciel's ear, "Don't be deluded, boy." Without further warning, he licked Ciel's cheek under his empty socket, lapping up the blood both dried and fresh that lingered there.

Ciel grunted in disgust, twisting away. "Don't touch me, you freak! Sebast –!!" He broke off, eye wide and chest heaving. Argentine chuckled, releasing Ciel's chin and throwing his own head back to laugh. The twisted sound echoed off the stone walls, chilling Ciel's blood.

"You don't need him?" Argentine whispered as his laughter died down, although ghostly echoes remained to underscore his words. "Without him, you're just a snot-nosed human brat."

With that, Argentine spun around and left, the cell door clanging shut behind him. As he walked up the stairs, he called out to the boy below, "Perhaps he's better off with us anyway, if he had such a pathetic master before."

All the strength drained out of Ciel's legs and he sunk slowly to the floor. Is Argentine right? He wondered, touching his wet cheek and shuddering slightly. Am I really just a defenceless child? Am I really that weak? What have I been doing these past two years? Have I just been hiding behind Sebastian all this time?

He had told Sebastian that the demon was to become his power. Ciel hadn't realised until now how literally the demon had taken that. Sebastian was definitely his physical power, able to deal with a thousand things all at once and in minimal time, doing everything the boy asked of him. But what the ash-haired boy understood now was that Sebastian was also his power as the Earl of Phantomhive. Without the demon, he really was just a noble brat that no-one would think to take seriously. Sebastian's unquestioning obedience and his supposed loyalty told others that this boy, however young, was a force to be reckoned with.

All of Ciel's power depended on a demon that was no longer there.

It was not despair or even anger that welled up within him this time, but a bone-deep sadness. Maybe I was meant to die that day. Maybe I was not meant to be rescued. Who have I been fooling all this time?

But Ciel Phantomhive was not someone who dwelled in despair; it was his stubborn streak that had gotten him through times before and it was his stubborn streak that reared its head there in the darkness of the dungeon. I can't dwell on this forever. If there is no-one else to depend on, I'll just have to depend on myself from here on. They were wrong, all of them. He was not powerless. Sebastian was the mere perception of his power; his power was still his own. The Phantomhive lord bit his lip, thinking hard.

So, Argentine was Von Barrett's butler, just as Sebastian was now Ashford's. Ciel frowned. What was Ashford's role in this, anyway? He was only a baron, one of the lowest ranks of the upper class. The Von Barrett family was from the old nobility, with a great deal of money; he was obviously financing the operation, not to mention giving them connections to the other nobility. Ashford … Phantomhive had never really had opportunity to do business with the Ashfords, but Ciel had a suspicion that they made weaponry. Was that the connection? Still, even if Ashford supplied the weapons, that shouldn't have made him an equal partner in the coup. Ciel was sure that the redhead had another role as well.

There was something else bothering him. He'd only ever heard of this Randall D. Ashford when the old master of the household had died; he'd only recognised the man by the coat of arms that had been on his coat that stormy night. But Ciel was also sure the late Baron Ashford had had no sons to succeed him, indeed no children at all, for they had died with his wife in an accident many years ago.

As Ciel puzzled this over, a voice in the back of his mind whispered, I don't need him. Try as he might, Ciel could not decide if it were lying or not.

oOoOoOoOoOo

The letters had been delivered with minimal difficulty. When the housekeeper had seen the writing on the envelope and heard that Sebastian had come from Lord Ashford, he had been shown to a room where he'd handed the letter to another young man, who had then given it to the man sitting with his back to the door. Assured the letter had been delivered correctly; Sebastian had left for the big grey house on Pittman Street. The blonde noble was right; it was hard to miss. He didn't make it past the hallway of this house, passing the letter to a middle-aged man. On his way back, Sebastian found himself distracted by the sight of a smoky grey cat lurking in a small side street. It hid at the sight of him at first, but came out when he called softly. Soon it was purring under his hands and rubbing its head against his leg as he crouched down.

"I wonder how she's doing at home," he murmured, mind on another cat that could have been a black twin to this one but for the fact the one under his hands was clearly an underfed stray. The cat turned its head towards his, lamplight eyes shining. "She looks a lot like you. I wonder if she's had her kittens yet?"

A 'merow~' answered him. "Yes, I know … I'm just worried those three might find her, or worse, do something to her …" Images of his cat dyed blue or something equally horrendous passed through his mind, and he shuddered. "Well, when we get home, I'll have to –" He paused. The cat protested as the hand petting it slowed to a standstill.

The Phantomhive manor was no longer 'home'. He could no longer go back there. So why did he feel like that was where he should be?

"– you seen this kid anywhere?"

"Excuse me, sir, would you happen to know –"

Sebastian's eyes widened. Please let it not be – He glanced over his shoulder at the street behind and groaned inwardly. I must be cursed. Turning back to his companion, he gave her a final pat. "Please forgive me; I'll be back in a moment …"

Standing up, he made his way over to the familiar duo who stood in the middle of the street, hailing those who passed by and thrusting a piece of paper at them. As he got closer, he heard one such one person reply, "I'm sorry, I've never seen that person before." Agni thanked him as he walked off and caught sight of Sebastian. His face brightened immediately and he waved, turning to say something to Sohma beside him. Sebastian was sure he had never met anyone so pleased to see him before. Sohma looked over and upon recognising the butler, dashed across the street to him; leaving Agni to apologise to the people the Prince had bumped into.

It was with some amusement (slightly irritated amusement, to be sure, but since irritation was a normal feeling when dealing with the Indian boy Sebastian just counted it as amusement) that Sebastian watched as Sohma reached him, his happy face at seeing him ("Sebastian!") lasting only a few seconds before it degenerated into a scowl.

"Alright. Where have you been?" the Prince demanded as Agni caught up with them. "And where's Ciel?"

They were starting to attract attention, something the demon didn't want. He gestured to the two Indians and moved over to the side street where he had been only a minute before. Thankfully, they followed without protest. As soon as they had relocated, however, Sohma continued his interrogation. "Do you realise it's been two weeks? You didn't tell us you were going for so long! Agni and I were really worried!"

A peculiar feeling rose in him and was gone just as quickly. They were worried?

"Prince Sohma was afraid you had been kidnapped," Agni piped up, grinning in relief that this was not so at the black-clad butler.

Sebastian smiled as though it were a ridiculous notion, though in reality he felt uncomfortable. I need to get them off this track. If they find out about Ciel they may try to rescue him … it could cause problems for my master. Although seeing Ciel's face at being rescued by these two would be amusing. The demon wasn't worried at anything they might try against him; he was, after all, a demon – even with Agni's blessed right hand, they'd have a hard time beating him.

"Well, not you so much, but I doubt Ciel can look after himself …" Sohma thrust a piece of paper under Sebastian's nose. "I even drew a picture of him to help us find someone who knew where he was!"

Sebastian took the paper and raised an eyebrow at it. It was a crayon drawing that Sohma had helpfully labelled "Little Ciel" with an arrow pointing to it. He supposed he should be thankful for the label; even with his skills, he'd be hard placed to recognise Ciel. I see Prince Sohma's drawing skills haven't improved since he tried to find Meena. Still, it was hard not to chuckle as he imagined Ciel's stunned face upon seeing the sketch.

He folded the paper up and stowed it away in his coat. "Hey!" Sohma protested. "We need that, how are we going to find –?"

"You have found me," Sebastian cut in. "Do you think I am not aware of the Young Master's whereabouts?"

When he saw the energetic Indian pause, he continued. "The Young Master came across a rare opportunity in his investigations and is currently working undercover. If you continue to draw attention to his absence, you'll compromise his safety. It is very important to the Young Master that you stop this immediately, so you'll no longer need this picture." And what a picture it was. "Do you understand?"

Agni nodded immediately; for all his enthusiasm, Sebastian could at least say the butler was smart (even if he chose not to exercise that trait very often). It was Sohma who was the problem; his mulish streak rivalled Ciel's at times.

After a moment, however, Prince Sohma nodded. "If it's dangerous to Ciel, we'll stop. Make sure you take care of Ciel though, understand?" The teen turned to his butler and pointed up the street, saying, "They had a sweet shop up there! Let's go take a look!" He seemed to suddenly remember something and turned back to Sebastian. "Oh, yeah! I beat Agni in a chess game, so make sure you tell Ciel I look forward to playing him when he gets back!"

As Sohma strode off happily with a "Bye, Sebastian!" and left a bemused Sebastian – Agni lost on purpose, didn't he? – standing there, Agni hesitated. When Sebastian looked at him questioningly, Agni spoke up.

"You always take good care of Ciel, so I have no worries about that, but … as your friend, I ask you, please take care of yourself too. I can see that something is bothering you … If you want to talk, I'll listen."

"Come on, Agni!" Sohma's voice floated back to them. Agni grinned in good bye and hurried after the teen.

"Prince Sohma, please slow down!"

As usual, Sebastian was left standing there bemused, watching them go. He put a hand to his chest absently. An awful, squirming feeling was beginning to wriggle around his heart and stomach, an emotion that he had very little, if any, experience in dealing with.

Guilt. Why did he feel … guilt?

'You always take good care of Ciel, so I have no worries.'

'I doubt Ciel can look after himself … Make sure you take good care of him!'

As Sohma and Agni's voices echoed in his head, the squirming guilt grew worse, tearing at his insides like a ravenous beast. He slumped against the wall; head tilted back, his eyes closed; one hand resting against his stomach.

This is ridiculous. Demons did not trust. Demons did not regret. Demons did not care. So why did he feel as though he had betrayed the boy?

His eyes cracked open slightly, a dull red in the afternoon sun. Mewing reached his ears and he glanced down. The smoky grey cat was back, twining around his ankles. With a sigh, he bent down to pick it up and it started purring contentedly as he scratched it gently behind the ears. It was not only their beauty and soft paws he loved … Sebastian admired cats because they served only themselves; they had no need of a master. Well, demons do not really, either … but just gouging on souls is frowned upon; it lowers your prestige. Besides, even the Elders have realised by now that if we destroy the human race we'd be starving ourselves into eternity. A wry smile crossed the demon's lips. One could call the contract process 'rationing', in a way…

"You are lucky you have no master to worry about," Sebastian told the purring cat in his arms. He pulled out his pocket watch, wondering if he was now behind schedule. Sunlight glinted off the casing and made golden patterns dance and swirl on the bricks beside him, enticing the cat to reach out and bat at them. Checking the time quickly, the demon squinted up at the sky. The sunlight is very bright today … I wonder – His eyes widened.

'Argentine can't deliver it today.'

'I haven't been injured by a demon for a long time.'

'Two puncture marks right here, on the neck.'

I'm a fool. Sebastian closed his eyes, resting his face in his free hand. Or else I really am losing my touch. Neither option really appealed to him, but how could he have missed all the signs? Sebastian ground his teeth in annoyance at himself for not figuring it out sooner. If that was what he was dealing with … Still, Sebastian was a being who would face down God if he had to; someone like Argentine, despite the stories, was no different.

Despite the stories …

A shadow passed across the crimson eyes, turning them a red so dark it was almost black, and a shiver ran down his spine despite the glaring sunlight. The sooner I finish this, the better. Pain flared in his chest suddenly like a bolt of lightning. He glanced down and caught sight of the contract seal shining faintly through his glove and frowned.

"Forgive me, but it's time for me to return," he told the stray, placing her gently on the ground. It wasn't a proper summons; it felt more like the contract had been activated by accident. When no second warning came, he relaxed slightly. In any case, I should make haste. Giving the cat one last pat ("I shall come and find you when I am next in London, is that permissible?") the demon spun on his heel and disappeared into the stream of people, leaving the feline mewing in confusion as she looked for her new friend.

The butler strode through the crowd at an incredible pace, dodging other by-passers with ease though his mind was elsewhere. Something had felt … odd about that call. Furthermore, why could he still not properly sense the soul he was linked to? All he knew was that he was still linked to a soul that bore his mark; the link itself felt … cloudy, if that were possible. His master had kept the same contract as Ciel, so –

A new thought occurred to him. His former master's contract was to last "until I reach my goal" as the boy had said. Since Lord Ashford had the same conditions, their contract was finished once the coup was successful. A hungry glint lit the claret eyes. I wonder if my master realises this yet?

Laughter escaped him, drawing a few odd looks from those in the crowd around him, but the demon no longer cared. The sooner he could return home and escape this burning, guilty feeling plaguing him, the better.

oOoOoOoOoOo

The first thing that Sebastian noticed upon entering the dungeon where Ciel was being kept was that all the torches had blown out, leaving the room in pitch darkness. That's strange … He took the first one down and examined it, balancing the tray of food on the other hand. Red eyes gleamed in the darkness. This should have burnt for longer …

He continued down the stairs, the flames reigniting as he went past. Eyes that saw with perfect vision even in the gloom peered into the boy's cell. Ciel was still there, eyes closed as he slumped on the floor. Is the boy asleep? Sebastian wondered, examining him. No, his breathing is wrong. So he's only pretending to sleep …

With a wave of his hand, Sebastian re-lit the candles on the wall, letting light wash across the floor of the cell. Shadows shrunk away, but the dappled bruises on Ciel's skin showed all the more clearly.

The demon set down the tray he held nearby and picked up the old one; it was empty. That was a good sign: Sebastian hadn't really wanted to force feed the boy to make sure he ate.

Sebastian had turned to go, feeling uncomfortable and irritated at his discomfort when a voice interrupted him. "Sebastian."

The demon paused. That's the first time I've heard him speak since … He schooled his face to stillness, the best poker face he could put on, and looked over his shoulder. "Yes, Ciel?" he said carefully. He couldn't afford to slip up and call him 'Young Master'.

The sound of his own name seemed to hit Ciel so hard he flinched. Sebastian had never called him by his name in all the time he had been with the demon. Still, I should have expected it since he no longer sees me as his master, Ciel thought bitterly. He had never fully appreciated how tall the demon actually was, Ciel realised as he stared up at Sebastian.

Some of the old pride, the old game of dominance sparked within him, and Ciel scrambled to his feet, determined to at least close some of the height difference between them and challenge the demon. Perhaps Sebastian recognised this, for he turned around completely to face him, a hint of the familiar mocking smile about his lips. Their gazes remained locked, neither wanting to back down. Sebastian's face was unreadable, as always – Ciel wished he knew what the demon was thinking.

In fact, a small wave of relief had washed over Sebastian at Ciel's actions. It is good to know that his spirit has not completely been broken. The defiant spirit that had first caught the demon's attention; the one that had drawn him from his place in the underworld was still there. He saw that Ciel hadn't thought of what to say next, so the demon decided to end the silence on his terms.

"So –" he almost had to bite his tongue to avoid saying 'Young Master', "I noticed that all the lights had gone out down here. Do you happen to know why that is?"

"Argentine was down here earlier," Ciel replied, raising his chin stubbornly. "To talk to me."

"Argentine was here?" Sebastian repeated in shock. His master's voice echoed in his head. 'Never, ever let Argentine get near that brat.' Sebastian's own instinct was to keep Ciel away from the man, even before he had known what he was. "What did he do?"

"What do you care?" Ciel retorted bitterly.

Sebastian stared at him, an odd expression passing over his features so fast that Ciel was sure he had imagined it. "I don't," the butler replied at last. Ciel was taken aback when the demon's fingers lifted his chin, turning his face to inspect it.

As expected… Sebastian thought, noticing at once the lack of blood on the boy's cheek. The tear tracks visible through blood and grime sparked that uncomfortable churning again, though it was not his problem if the boy cried. Not his problem. He tilted Ciel's head up and was relieved to find no bite marks on his throat.

Ciel jerked out of his grip angrily, surprising the butler. For a split second it had felt like they were back at the manor house, master and butler once more. "Don't touch me!"

Another crimson stare was fixed upon him. "As you wish," Sebastian said, dropping his hand. "I have a question for you. Who is Clarence Darlington?"

Ciel stared at him, surprised. "Why should I tell you?"

One of the demon's gloved hands shot out, slamming him against the wall. Ciel cried out in pain as his wounded body was jarred, the hand remaining on his collar bone to pin him to the wall. Sebastian leaned close, his eyes shining with that demonic light. "You seem to be forgetting who I am, boy."

"A traitor?" Ciel spat back. If he was going to die, the demon should hurry up before Ciel's courage failed him.

"Your jailor. You are a prisoner, Young Master – talk, or I shall make you." A grin stretched the demon's lips, displaying sharp teeth which he used to tug on his other glove to straighten it. "You know enough about my methods to know how."

Ciel stared up into Sebastian's crimson eyes, devoid of any kind of human emotion but the desire to hurt and an intense hunger. He had seen that gaze so often in the past, but it was always from beside Sebastian as he watched some other unfortunate's fate. Now he was facing that terrifying gaze he had only seen this close the day they had met – staring up into that smirking face, and even then the promise of pain was for the scum around them, not his master. Something had been odd about Sebastian's words just then, but the young noble was too frozen in fascinated horror by that gaze and could not place it.

"Clarence Darlington … Viscount Darlington?" Ciel finally said. "As far as I know, he's fairly high-ranking in the British army… How did you hear of him? We never did any business with them."

"He is Lord Ashford's friend from military training, apparently," Sebastian replied, his eyes losing that dangerous shine. The weight pressing on Ciel's chest lifted as Sebastian reclaimed his hand and rubbed it.

Ciel frowned, thinking. The Ashford family makes weapons … and Randall Ashford has a friend in the army … "That's it!" he exclaimed suddenly, coughing as his dry throat protested at being used so much after such a long time.

"What do you mean?"

"It makes sense … Von Barrett has the money and links amongst the nobility … but they'd need the support of the military, too – that's Ashford's job! He has connections to people in high ranks in the army, and supplies the weapons!" Ciel's eye was wide as he considered this.

"But that means their plan is rather well-thought out," Sebastian mused.

"Yes, more than I'd expected … They must be further along in their plan than I first thought. I have to warn Scotland Yard, and the Queen! It's now even more of a danger to her. Sebastian, go and –"

"– and what, Young Master? I am no longer yours to command so easily," the demon said, raising an eyebrow at him. "Thank you for answering my question. That is all." He bent down to pick up the tray he had dropped earlier.

"Why are you still calling me Young Master, then?" Ciel challenged. He saw shock in Sebastian's eyes as the demon glanced up at him, clearly startled. Did he even realise what he was doing? Why is Sebastian still calling me that?

Sebastian's false smile was back in an instant as he straightened swiftly. "Just habit. My mistake."

"I thought you didn't make mistakes," Ciel called after the departing demon.

Sebastian glanced backwards. "Do not presume, Ciel. Something once lost –"

"Will never return," the boy finished, eyes narrowed. "I know."

"It is best you remember that." The demon felt the piercing blue stare on him as he disappeared out the door. And it is best that I remember it too.

He strode down the hallways with his mind whirling in confusion. It had seemed so natural to fall back into their routine of figuring things out; it had truly seemed like nothing had changed. As I would have expected of the Phantomhive lord to put the information together so quickly.

Sebastian was so lost in thought that he only vaguely noticed a door open further up the hallway and a dark shape walk out. He did, however, notice when the newcomer spoke.

"Well, if it isn't the demon …"

Sebastian's head snapped up, suddenly alert. Argentine … His red eyes narrowed.

Pale blue blinked innocently back at him. "Do I sense a sudden increase in your animosity towards me, Sebastian? What ever did I do to deserve such a thing?"

"What were you doing with the Youn – with Ciel?" Sebastian demanded.

"What would I want with a human brat?" Argentine retorted, raising an eyebrow. "I can think of better things to do with my time …"

"My master won't be pleased to learn a vampire was with his prisoner," Sebastian snapped. "Did you bite the boy?"

Argentine burst out laughing. "Ha! Ginger's terrified of me; he can whine all he wants but he won't do anything." His gaze settled back on the demon and his smirk widened in satisfaction, fangs glistening sinisterly. A pleased light lurked in the ice-blue eyes. "So, you know my secret, hm? I was wondering when you'd figure it out … and I thought demons were supposed to be clever …"

"I wasn't expecting to have the bad luck to run into one." Sebastian's eyes narrowed once again. "I thought that most of your kind was destroyed in the Purge over a century ago."

"Most, demon, not all … Some of us managed to avoid detection when the humans tried to wipe us out … Still, it matters not now." Argentine shrugged and suddenly leapt at him out of the blue. Sebastian jerked backwards, but Argentine moved faster and had the element of surprise, grabbing Sebastian and slamming him against the wall. The demon struggled, but somehow Argentine had managed to twist one of his arms around behind him so that it was pinned between his back and the wall; the other was pressed against the wall near his head so they looked like they were doing a mockery of a dance.

Even as they struggled, Sebastian felt that peculiar tiredness that he had felt twice now in the vampire's presence before, as though his entire body had become heavy and immobile while the strength drained out of him. His eyelids fluttered once, twice as he fought off the suffocating tiredness that tried to envelop him.

"Just to reassure you, demon, you need not worry I harmed the boy," Argentine murmured, his voice a low purr. He seemed to enjoy watching Sebastian's efforts to remain awake, if his sardonic smile was any indication. "I can see why you chose him." A long claw stretched out and grazed a line across the demon's cheekbone. Blood began to bead along the cut, blood welling up and threatening to slide down the demon's pale face. "I may find some use for him –"

"The boy's soul is MINE!" Sebastian hissed, throwing his weight forward in an attempt to get free. Caught off guard, it was a moment before Argentine shoved him back against the wall. The demon's eyes were a furious, burning crimson, the demonic gleam making them glow brightly even in the well-lit corridor. His teeth were bared in anger, far sharper than any human's teeth should be – Argentine realised with a start that the demon had started to revert back to his true form once more. This should be interesting …

"Not anymore," the vampire told him calmly, watching the fury and frustration rise in the crimson gaze. "Still, what use have I for a soul? You can have whatever is left of the brat when I'm done." Sebastian growled deep in his throat, a tiger's growl warning other creatures off its territory. Argentine smiled once again. "No? Well, you'll just have to be his substitute then. I did warn you earlier this morning …" The blood along the demon's wound finally spilled over, the enticing tangy smell calling to the vampire's senses.

Sebastian recoiled in disgust as the vampire leant forward and licked the crimson trickle flowing down his cheek. "Hm~" Argentine hummed softly. "I've been waiting to do that." Ever since I found out there was a demon in this city.

He needed more time to escape. I need to distract him. "So you were the one behind all of those attacks." I should have realised that when we first met the Undertaker … but I was so sure they no longer existed. So foolish … I'm becoming as weak and pathetic as a human.

"Yes," Argentine drawled, watching as the scratch on Sebastian's face healed before his eyes. A minor injury like that would heal very fast. "They weren't very filling at all, I must admit. But humans are such easy prey … as a demon, you should know what I mean."

"The one thing that puzzles me," Sebastian said calmly, as though he were not trapped between a wall and a vampire, "is that none of them fought back …"

"You should know your history better, demon. Vampires can create a paralysing aura in a small area around themselves. I expect you can feel its effect now, actually …" Sebastian could see Argentine's teeth glistening with blood, his blood. "It's pointless to fight it … though I must say you've done a good job so far."

"Why … come after me?" Sebastian forced the words out. It was becoming difficult to breathe.

"Well, Ginger was looking for a skilled butler, since I teamed up with Vincent … they decided on you after I mentioned I'd felt the presence of a demon in town. It's so easy to manipulate humans, don't you agree? It makes it hard to have any respect for them … Of course, I wanted a demon nearby for my own reasons." Argentine ran his tongue over his bottom lip. "Human blood is good, but a demon's blood has the sweetest taste of all."

Sebastian tried to lean backwards to get away from the vampire's stench only to hit his head against the wall. In a way, he found the man more repulsive than Grell, and Sebastian had though that was a hard standard to beat.

Argentine leaned closer, until his nose was almost touching Sebastian's. "Are you scared, demon? My kind learnt how to subjugate yours long ago … though you were harder prey than humans, I admit."

He wasn't scared, precisely … but there was a decided uneasiness churning in his stomach that could well be described as fear. Sebastian had never run across a vampire before in his exceptionally long lifetime, but he had stories of them. None of the stories of them had indicated any kind of good relations between the two beings.

It had not been a problem in the beginning, for demons had vastly outnumbered the vampires who walked the human world. They were too small in number to affect the demon's prey, and had no souls of their own to be worthy of being prey.

However, their numbers had grown until they became a threat. Whether demon or vampire, the best prey was always the same: humans. It had descended into violence, the way things always did when both sides were bloodthirsty. Sebastian had heard of unfortunate demons that had fallen into vampire hands, becoming little more than pets for their amusement and their blood.

Suddenly, the humans themselves had ended the fight with their Purge; a world-wide frenzy of killing anything that resembled a vampire, whether the victim was innocent or not. From their place in Hell, demons had watched the downfall of their enemy with satisfaction and feasted on the innocent souls that had suffered in the carnage.

Then the vampires were gone, leaving only stories and a remembered animosity behind.

Was Sebastian Michaelis afraid?

Probably.

At the very least, he had to admit he was worried. This was a case more serious than any human mafia or Reaper he had faced so far since his summons this time around. If only I could break through this paralysisI'd be able to deal with him. Crimson eyes flashed in anger.

"I grow tired of this conversation," Argentine said, yawning slightly so that his fangs were clearly visible. "Is there anything else you'd like to say?" A growl was the only reply. "In that case …"

The vampire stretched out a finger to yank Sebastian's collar open in order to reach his neck, enjoying the rage and disbelief – was that a spark of fear? – in the demon's eyes. Sebastian tried to struggle uselessly, but he had been caught up in the paralysing aura for far too long. His eyes widened as fangs sunk into his flesh, biting deeply and releasing pain that ripped through his body and he jerked forward, his hand twitching in Argentine's grip.

A long hiss escaped him as Argentine began to drink. He was so tired …. Sleep beckoned as he felt the energy drain out of his body along with his lifeblood. His eyes were no longer crimson but a dull greyish red which was slowly hidden as his eyelids fluttered shut.

Feeling the demon slump against him, unconscious, the vampire began to feast.

oOoOoOoOoOo

END CHAPTER 3

oOoOoOoOoOo

A/N: Well, there we go ^^;; Congrats on making it this far!

Argentine is kinda creepy ." and somehow even the cat made it into this chapter XD

Ah, I should probably also say thank you to the people who voted in my poll ^^b It's a relief that nobody finds the chapters too long and tedious ^^;; That said, it does take a while to write them, so thank you everyone for your patience :bows:

Thank you for reading - I hope you enjoyed this chapter~!\(^o^)/

Now that Argentine's true colours have been revealed, what will happen to Sebastian? And with his former butler the latest victim of the vampire, what will Ciel do? Find out in the next chapter (currently in-progress): That Butler, Perception!