"I should have known it would be you."

At the vaguely familiar, nasally, and superiorly disgusted voice, the raven-haired demon lifted his head, pulling away from the body he held. It surprised him that this one had responded. It wasn't William's attention that he'd truly wanted; the enamored redhead was his true target, and would have been a much easier one.

Ah, well. He'd play the hand he was dealt. This would only make the game more interesting.

"...Well, well, well...if it isn't William Spears..."

"William T. Spears," the shinigami pointlessly corrected, adjusting his glasses and pointing his scythe at the demon's throat. "That soul is to be reaped by the Dispatch Officer Grell Sutcliff. Release him at once and your punishment will be minimal."

"And why would I want to do that?" He asked idly, still crouched possessively over the body. His former appearance-at least somewhat acceptable, and not entirely unlike William's own uniform-was gone now, leaving him unmasked and unmistakable for what he really was. "As for Grell," he continued, "I was hoping to draw him to me...now all I wonder is why you came instead." He glanced at the scythe inches from him and his eyes lit to a burning fuchsia. "I have not been and do not intend to be violent, and I suggest you kindly remove that scythe from my proximity, else I do so for you."

"Step away from that man."

"You're just a mite too late," He said, smirking easily. "Waking away now won't give him his soul back."

William's eyes narrowed and his finger twitched; Sebastian reacted with impeccable reflexes, bending impossibly backward to avoid the scythe as it lanced further forward and snapped shut inches from his nose. He flipped himself over, swinging an arm to capture the harmless pole of the scythe against his side. William barely had time to register the movement before it was completed, and as he was formulating a plan, the demon turned and jerked hard on his scythe, hard enough to pull it from his grasp. Acutely aware of the implications of losing his weapon, William instantly cast about for another, but nothing presented itself.

"Oh, at least you know you don't stand a chance without it," the demon said, twirling and playing with it as naturally as he breathed. "Now if you'll leave me to my devices, I'll leave you to yours. All things considered, that's a very generous deal, and I suggest you take it while I am still feeling hospitable."

"Return that death scythe to me at once," William hissed, fighting back the anger that wanted to break forth. Letting anger interfere was never good; going into a fight angry meant you'd already lost. "Return it at once, and your punishment will be minimal."

"Is that all you can say?" He smirked, head tilting easily to one side, knowing jibing him would only annoy him and keep him there. "You should leave. I believe I warned you once...and while I consider patience one of my virtues, I find that you have managed to deplete it completely."

William's eyes narrowed. Uncomfortable as he was, unarmed and on the defensive for once, he was determined not to let the demon see his unease.

"You have no business here. Your contract has ended. The one pathetic excuse you had is gone."

"Ah, yes. Free of that awful collar, as you called it..." His eyes narrowed and the falsely bright smile turned downright cruel. "It does feel so good to be able to do as I wish again. And feed as often as I desire."

Reflexively, William's finger twitched to extend the death scythe he did not currently hold. The demon caught the motion and laughed outright, condescendingly mocking him.

"Incomplete without your little hedge trimmer, are you? Tsk, tsk." The virulent glare seemed to glow more brightly. "How pathetic. You're not much of an opponent with nothing to fight with."

The reaper tried to speak, but before he could get so much as a word out, he found his jaw held tight in Sebastian's grip. Instead of his response, a startled choking noise escaped his throat. The demon let out a single, soft laugh.

"At least your little subordinate would have had the strength to fight me on his own."

Suddenly filled with rage, he slapped the demon's hand away and lunged forward, striking hard at whatever he could reach.

Laughing, the demon countered each blow with lazy expertise. Finally catching one of William's fists in his hands, he deftly twisted the reaper's wrist in just such a way to bring the man to his knees with a shout of pain.

"Now, can we have something of a more civilized conversation?" He asked, quiet amusement still coloring his voice. "You are without a weapon and thus vastly overpowered. It is against your better interest to continue in your attempt to fight me."

Gritting his teeth against the pain in his wrist, William growled a response.

"Go to hell," He grunted, the pain quickly washing away his usual civil, if backhanded, manner. "Back where you belong."

"Ah, but why, when there's a veritable buffet here on earth? One soul isn't enough to satisfy me after so long, and at this point I'll sacrifice taste for sustenance. The boy was quite delicious enough."

"Release me-!"

"I think not. It's only fair I treat you the way you treat me-that is, as unworthy scum to be eliminated."

He sighed inwardly, hoping it wouldn't come to that. It would spoil everything if he had to kill this one. All his years of subterfuge and web-weaving, torn apart by interfering hands. Why hadn't it been the redhead that showed up? Perhaps it was better to wait and try again some other time.

"You think that wouldn't bring all the reapers in London to your trail?" William was hissing through gritted teeth. "Even you couldn't win against all of them..."

"I'm aware," He said with a sigh. "Will you act civilly if I let you up? It's infuriating to speak with someone who has to grit his teeth."

William only glared at him in silence, something the demon seemed to take as a positive response. He released him, but didn't yet give back the scythe.

"And why do you want me gone so badly?" He asked, twirling it again. William's eyes narrowed at such a question.

"Demons are the filth that steal what they cannot rightfully claim, and do so through such convoluted and dishonest means-"

"Dishonest? You know that isn't true. You know we can't overtly lie-we must work in subtlety and omission, if we do, and it's only that loophole that allows the more discerning among us to feed as we do-sparingly and to a highly selective taste. Else there'd be mass panic and riots, and oh..." He rubbed the bridge of his nose. "It'd be the Salem Witch Trials all over again...have they happened yet? I find we're more apt to explore whens than your lot." He continued without waiting for a response. "Would you prefer that I be forced to walk this world, unmasked?"

"As you're doing now?" The reaper pointed out. The demon smiled again.

"Just taking a moment to be back in my own skin," He said. "You'd want that as well, if you had to put on a new one for ears at a time."

"A minor price to pay for what you charge of your victims," the reaper snarled. Any pretense of pleasantness fell out of the demon's expression and left it blank and cold.

"Do you expect me not to feed myself?" The demon's voice was soft and smooth as silk, and wrapped around him almost suffocatingly as it tried to pull him under Sebastian's spell. "It's only natural that I need to find sustenance."

Smooth as silk and heavy as velvet, and dangerously dripping in venom. The demon's voice surrounded and overwhelmed him as the creature continued to murmur so...seductively in his ears. The reaper shuddered as his felt the heat of the demon's body press to his own, black-clawed hands splaying on his chest and exploring it.

"Have you ever starved...?" The voice returned, Sebastian's breath warm on his skin, his lips hot as they brushed the sensitive lobe of his ear. "Have you ever felt hunger snaking its way throughout your body...its tendrils worming their way under your skin, wracking you with almost constant pain...and just when you think you've suppressed it, it twists..." the hand that had slid to William's stomach clenched suddenly, the gleaming nails digging uncomfortably into his skin, the fist adding an uneasy pressure. The demon's voice was harsher as he spoke again.

"Yes, it spikes and throbs and does all it can to remind you of just how strong it can be...oh, yes...hunger is a terrible and powerful thing..." The biting, bitter cold to his voice softened, and he spoke almost contemplatively. "It can drive a lesser being to death...and a stronger one to madness."

His hand relaxed, but to William's dismay, he did not pull away. Rather, his lips seemed to press closer.

"You yourself have said that I have not acted upon this force, that would surely drive anyone to rash and violent actions...so you must forgive me for doing so now, when I finally can...finally free from the choking collar I wore for so long."

Finally, the reaper seemed to come to his senses and managed to pull away.

"You have no right to steal the souls of those-"

"And what gives you the right to observe and harvest them? We came long before your kind, you realize-angels, demons, and the demi-gods that harvest the souls of the dying were born in that order. You were not created to thwart our actions."

"We are to judge impartially-"

"We were supposed to work alongside each other, did you know that?"

That claim stopped William in his tracks, and visibly caught him off-guard. The demon grinned widely, darkly, and continued.

"The souls you condemn to hell. They were originally meant to be fed to demons, who invariably found the souls of sinners more appetizing than those of the saints. The pain and strife invariably brought by such grievous sins do make for the best and richest spices...the flavor of a soul steeped in them is simply sublime."

For a moment, as he said the last word, the demon's eyes flared to the glowing red, but faded as quickly as they had lit. William's gaze was obviously conflicted. It almost made sense...but how could the demon's words be true?

"If that were the case..." Why was his voice shaking so badly? "Why have things changed since then-?"

Sebastian gave a long-suffering sigh and placed a hand on his chest.

"It was, of course, the fault of a few greedy and impulsive beasts. Unhappy with the souls they were being given, they sought others, and began pestering the reapers for a wider variety...of course, this simply wouldn't do. Needless to say, they did not take well to this refusal, and began taking the souls of whomever they wished. This behavior was, as it always seems to be, exaggerated and applied to all demons-a generalization based off the foolish actions of very few. Thus, the reapers turned against the demons, and we have hence become foragers, forever fighting to survive with those who once helped us."

Again, it all made sense. It added up perfectly. The story was virtually flawless...but why had he never heard of these events before? It irritated him to no end.

"Are you wondering why you have no prior knowledge of these occurrences?" The demon asked, grinning again in a way that said he could all but read the reaper's mind. "Do you honestly think they would broadcast to the new generations that demons and reapers once worked alongside each other? No, no, if they wanted us to be your enemies, they would sweep all evidence of cooperation under the rug. There are a few who might be old enough to remember...as I am...a time before now." Easily prying it from its place in the wall, Sebastian threw William's scythe with a dark grin. "Go to the one that resides here, in London...as an Undertaker."