A/N: Sort of a double chapter - you'll see what I mean soon enough. =) I can't wait to finally get to the goood, gory parts! LOL. Surprisingly, I enjoy writing scenes where SOMEONE gets eviscerated... I'll admit that shamelessly. =P I feel like I should clarify that I need ALL sorts of reviews - great, you like the story. But what DIDN'T you like? What scenes would you like to see me work on? Flame me! (If you dare... maybe you'll end up disemboweled in my next chapter!) WINK WINK.

Warnings: Eh. Wait till the next one.

Disclaimer: I'm just about done with this sh*t...

Sebastian is still at my side when I wake.

My head is in his lap and my blankets strewn at my feet, but I'm covered in his tailcoat for warmth.

"I did not want to wake you," he tells me when I sit up, letting his tailcoat fall off my shoulders. "I feared too much movement would have." I hand him his coat with a small smile.

"Thank you," I tell him. "You're not so bad at comforting after all."

Sebastian's red eyes flash. I can tell he's pleased with my comment, especially when he stands and kneels to me with his hand over his breast.

"My Lady," he murmurs. "Today I have secured for us a meeting with the old detective assigned to your family's case. He is elderly, but I have no doubt his memory strong."

I raise one eyebrow. "You did that?"

Sebastian smiles and nods once, closing his eyes halfway and glancing down at me. "For my Lady, I will do anything."

I roll my eyes. Still, I can't help but smile internally at his words – even though I'm sure he's only reacting in the way he should, I still can't help but feel something. Sebastian reaches for his tailcoat and puts it on slowly, easing his arms through the sleeves with grace. He buttons up his jacket and fixes his sienna-red eyes on my own green ones, sliding his gloves onto his hands and bowing ever so slightly.

"Mistress, we ought to ready you for the day. I shall draw your bath for you and afterwards, once I have dressed you it will be time to welcome our guest into your home."

I yawn, gathering my hair into one hand and letting it drape over my shoulder. "Do as you wish, Sebastian. Let's just get this day over with." I'm not sure what it is about the day's plans, but I'm not too excited for them. Of course, I want to learn all I can about everything involving my family's tragedies, but that doesn't mean it'll be easy to hear.

Sebastian moves into the bathroom and the water starts up, and when he returns I've gotten out of bed to follow him.

"I won't need any help this time, Sebastian. I don't know what possessed me to let you the last time."

"As you wish, Mistress. I will wait."

I close the door behind me, separating Sebastian and I. I take a deep breath abruptly, feeling my heart patter unevenly. Why does something so evil and damned have my heart reacting so? When the bath is ready, I let my nightdress drop to my feet and climb in. I don't want to take as long, yet at the same time I'm interested to see if Sebastian will come in and help me bathe. Of course, I don't need it, but just the thought of his hands running through my hair is enough to make my breathing hitch.

I can't hear anything outside of the bathroom, so I don't think Sebastian is there. Of course, he is very quiet, and I almost have no way of knowing if he's walking at my side unless I look. I wonder just how someone can be so very silent, but I suppose it all adds up to his inhuman nature. Sebastian is not human – I have to remind myself this often.

I wonder what Sebastian spent the night thinking of. I know demons do not sleep and do not eat, so what does Sebastian do in his down-time?

I finish with my bath as quickly as I can, wandering out into my bedroom wrapped in a towel. Sebastian is waiting, patiently standing next to my perfectly made bed with his hands behind his back. He steps forward immediately and dries me off, rubbing the towel over my skin. I've gotten over the awkwardness of Sebastian seeing me naked; I can tell he does not look in places he should not. And why should he?

Ogling your master is not polite, and Sebastian is the epitome of polite.

Sebastian has lain out a dress of red and white chiffon and lace. It is one of my winter dresses, which means long sleeves and a collar that buttons tightly around my neck. It will hide Sebastian's marks very easily, and is not too dressy to welcome a guest into my home.

"I hope you do not mind, Mistress, but while you bathed I took it upon myself to ready the sitting room for guests," Sebastian tells me, in the midst of tightening my corset. I grimace, feeling my waist lose inches with every passing second.

"Not at all," I gasp for breath, hearing Sebastian's chuckle behind me. Is it possible this is amusing him? He helps me into my dress, quickly and efficiently doing up all the buttons that trail up my side. Once my hair is dry I pull it away from my face and braid it tightly, letting the long pleat hang over my shoulder.

"Show me what you've done with my sitting room," I tell him, leading the way. If I were someone of great importance, my sitting room would be the place where I entertained countless guests. I get about as much use out of that room as any; which isn't much.

Sebastian has turned the room around; transforming it to look as though I'm rich and influential. Every surface is polished, dusted and things rearranged to make the room 'flow'. I'm impressed – my fireplace looks better than it ever has before. He's even stocked the hearth and lit a crackling fire in it.

"You did all of this while I was bathing?" I ask, incredulously. Sebastian merely smiles, pressing his arm across his stomach in a formal bow.

"What kind of demon would I be if I could not tidy a room to my Lady's liking?"

I don't want to roll my eyes, but I can't help it. Sebastian grins at my reaction and his red eyes seem to glow from within.

"When can we expect the detective?" I glance outside the window and see the sun in the middle of the sky, albeit shielded with clouds. Sebastian pulls a watch from his pocket and I see now what's been attached to the chain all this time.

"At one, Mistress. It is nearly that time now. I have prepared tea and lunch for his arrival, and will serve it once he arrives."

"I've told you, Sebastian, I don't need a butler."

It seems like Sebastian's smile is apologetic when he answers. "I'm sorry, my Lady. I feel it is easier for me because I'm simply one hell of a butler."

I grin, breaking into amused laughter. "Is that right? Well I wouldn't want to crush your spirit, then. Do what you please to pass your days, but when the time comes to exact revenge, I expect your total focus. Don't let something like a dusty teacup distract you."

"Mistress," he begins, sounding almost disapproving. "I would never presume to allow a teacup to go unused long enough to warrant dust."

I laugh again; glad Sebastian can joke and entertain me easily. If he were as serious as Ash seemed to be I'm sure I'd lose it before a week of having him in my service.

The detective arrives shortly after one, apologizing profusely for being tardy. Sebastian had been right; he is elderly, but not so much so that he is incompetent. His mind is still sharp, I learn quickly, when he comments on Sebastian's 'otherworldly efficiency'. That earns a smile from the demon – and nothing more.

Sebastian presents the detective to his chair near mine and takes his coat, top hat and cane, disappearing into another room with them. His graying hair is slicked back and the wrinkles in his face all show evidence of a hard life, yet he is dressed finely in a tailored suit and shining shoes.

"It is a pleasure to make your acquaintance, Valentina. I'm not sure if you remember me from years ago, but I am Detective Arnold Chauncer. I was close to retiring age when assigned to your case, and you were just a young girl at that time."

I smile, remembering his name. "I do," I tell him. "It has been quite some time."

"I'm glad to see you're doing well," he says to me, leaning back in his chair. "Time definitely seems to have been kind to you. You have grown into a beautiful young woman."

"Thank you, Detective Chauncer."

"Please, call me Arnold. I'm not sure if you're aware, but I'm very well acquainted with your family."

His voice is kind, although I can't help and frown at his last sentence. I don't want to answer him rudely, but I don't see how there can be any acceptable answer to his remark. Thankfully, Sebastian enters the room pulling a silver tray, topped with a tray of food, a teapot and twin teacups.

"Please excuse the interruption, but I have prepared lunch for my Lady and the detective," he says, bowing with respect.

"Not at all, lad. Continue on."

I grin wildly, catching Sebastian's eye at the detective's use of 'lad'. Chances are good that Sebastian has lived to see ten times as many lifetimes as Arnold. Sebastian pours the tea and sets it in front of us while Arnold rummages through a leather bag he's brought with him, pulling out a file of papers.

"I've brought with me things you'll like to see," he says, leafing through the file. "It is my understanding that you're working with Scotland Yard to help catch your family's killers?"

I send a quick look to Sebastian and the demon merely offers me a small smile, not meeting my eyes.

"Yes," I reply quickly, hoping Arnold doesn't catch my initial hesitation.

Arnold nods firmly, grunting. "A fine idea. Who better to bring into the case than you? You have seen it all, poor girl. My condolences go to you a thousand times over."

I swallow, picking up my teacup and tasting the tea Sebastian has brewed. I can't recognize the brand, but it is sweet and heavy all at the same time. I don't want Arnold to see any doubt on my face or hear it in my voice. I need him to think I've lost all feeling toward this case.

Sebastian exits the room quietly, and it is just the detective and I.

"I've brought with me everything I ever collected on your case," he tells me, setting the thick folder on the table between us. I eye it hungrily but make no move to reach for it, allowing Arnold to continue speaking. "It contains everything you'll need to know, but it won't do you much in locating the killers. I've got profiles on five different men, coroner reports and extensive detailing on every murder with site specific information. It includes multiple theories on their use of insignia – such as placement on the bodies and around the crime scenes." Arnold breaks from talking, sipping from his tea and grunting with approval.

"Excellent tea," he says. "You have a fine butler if he can brew something so tasteful."

I'm sure Sebastian can hear every word, and I'm sure he's inflating with pleasure.

I take the thick file, pausing. I don't want to open it just yet, but if I don't it could signify weakness. Already Arnold's sharp gray eyes are watching me carefully, so I open the file and thumb through it, numbing myself. Arnold isn't joking – everything is here. Graphic photos of my family members and friends meet my eyes; I can't handle those just yet, so I keep thumbing through.

Most of the pages contain tightly scripted writing. All of it hurts my eyes, so I close the file and save it for later. Sebastian's eyesight will surely be able to handle more than mine.

"Thank you," I offer him a gracious smile, handing the file off to Sebastian, whom has appeared silently at my side. He folds his arms behind his back and takes a few steps back, standing quietly. Arnold glances at him and back to me with a question in his eyes.

"You do not mind if your butler overhears our conversation?"

I stifle a smile. "Sebastian is more of an associate, if you will, rather than a butler."

"An associate? How so?"

"He is a close, personal friend of mine." I make it clear with the tone of my voice that no further questions are desired, and Arnold seems content to leave it at that.

"Very well. As you have heard, the last victim involved with your family was Mrs. Faye, your primary school teacher. What I can't understand is why she was targeted – especially when it has been years since she last spoke to anyone in your family."

"I can't fathom it either," I answer, shrugging my shoulders. "Perhaps the killers simply intended to wipe anyone affiliated with my family out."

"But why?" Arnold's voice is strained. It's clear he's spent far too much time thinking over this specific question.

"I haven't been able to come up with a conclusion just yet, either. I'm certain it won't take too long." I send a cursory glance over my shoulder to Sebastian, and his violet eyes meet mine. Those feline slits devour my gaze, but I don't hold it long lest Arnold catch sight of it.

"You were always intelligent," Arnold tells me with a grandfatherly smile. "I have no doubt you and your associate will work it out."

I hide my grin behind my hand, unwilling to let the detective see. Sebastian and I are the only ones who need to know the plan for my family's murderers, for I'm certain if Arnold were to catch wind of the plans I have working out, he'd lock me up.

"I appreciate you taking the time to visit my home, Arnold. I do hope your good health continues," I reach across the table and place my hand on his arm, smiling.

"You're very welcome, Valentina. You have always been fortunate, and I foresee only good things in your future."

My smile disappears, but only for a moment.

"Thank you, Arnold. I do hope you're right."

SEBASTIAN

Her soul is perfect.

I have never before come across a soul with such violent desires; completely untainted by the malice at its core. The instant she passed by me I knew she was to be mine – the attraction of her soul is second only to her beauty. And she truly is beautiful; her creamy pale skin akin to moonlight, dark hair like the richest bar of chocolate and green eyes that shine like emeralds. Of course, none of these things can compare to the sinuous length of her curves or the way she simply moves.

As a demon, I do not expect I should be enticed by such temporary things. Perhaps I have been entwined with the mortal coil for too long, for the beauty of a woman is as tempting as the allure of a ripe soul to me now. Although I cannot deny there is something else that draws me in… and it is the undiscovered savagery I can sense lying dormant within in her.

It is my job to awaken that unbridled hatred and shape it; to mold it within my capable hands and turn out one of the most despicable creations I have ever formed. The rewards for something like that are innumerable – not only will it help mature her soul, but it will push her closer to me. I want nothing more to possess more of a connection to her, for I fear it is only a matter of time before my carnal desires overcome me – and her.

Too soon and it will kill her.

Too late and it will drive me wild.

Already I can see her writhing underneath me; her body stretched and arched, rosebud mouth pursed, eyes half-lidded in ecstasy. The fantasy has my every sense shivering in anticipation… if only she knew of the things I have planned for her. It will be too easy; it does not take a genius to interpret the looks she gives to me or the things she says around me. I will not feel bad about it either, for the words Valentina spoke to me before her marking were completely right: she is going to deserve every mote of pain I bring her.

I will see to it.

But as horrible as these things sound, my intentions are not all so foul. Certainly I want to harvest her soul and devour her, but that is not all. Our binding contract will not allow me to fail the tasks she has set out for me – and this contract, I fear, may be the strongest yet. Valentina's marks are the most prominent of all I have ever been in service for, and therefore the toughest. There will be no breaking or altering it with a simple command, unlike a certain young master of mine from the past. My Lady is stuck with me until her wishes have been fulfilled.

But she will soon find that I am more than what I seem – surely she sees my outer evil reflected in my eyes, but I am more than that. Valentina has no inclination of my true power, and I know once she catches just a single glimpse her idea of me will be forever changed.

And it is simple to say I cannot wait for that moment.

By now I would be able to sense her soul anywhere; even if she were taken to the other side of the world, I could locate her easily. It is as if her soul is braided with the very fabric of my being. It is increasingly difficult for me to keep my control around her, but I will manage. The more often she has me dress her the greedier I become. She does not think of me as her butler, but it is easiest for me to assume that role – and a butler must never look at his master with longing and desire.

It is impossible for me to do this.

Her soul is perfect for me – and it calls to me. It is getting more and more troublesome to wait for the revenge she seeks and for her soul to age to perfection, so for now I must resort to utterly demeaning tactics to whet my appetite. Her blood will do for now – as much as I hate it. It is almost as if simply being around her is starving me; never before has this happened. I have to keep the monster inside docile by devouring her blood… when I kiss her, I cannot help myself.

The desire for her flesh and body is an irresistible pull.

The consuming want for her soul is impossible.

She must not know of the danger she puts herself in when she gives me these looks.

I have organized the papers Arnold gave me into two piles – the pages I can look at easily, and the ones I'm not sure of just yet. Sebastian is in the kitchen, silently cleaning up from Arnold's visit. The paper in my hands paints for me an uncertain picture; dozens of theories play out, all attempting to illustrate reasons for the attacks on my family. A few of them speculate it is all sheer coincidence – but I know better than that.

Everything has been orchestrated for a reason – but that has yet to be determined.

Two of the theories propose that I am the target, and that sends a shiver down my spine. What could five total strangers want with me? The idea that I know the killers is tossed around on these pages as well, but they are quickly eliminated. There are virtually no suspects listed, and those that were are now dead – targeted by the five killers and taken out.

"Perhaps they are a cult?" Sebastian's smooth voice sounds close to my ear, making me jump. "Look at the symbol," he shuffles through several pieces of paper until he finds the one displaying the triangle-head stick figure, encased in his circle, imitated and definitely not the same as the original.

"In history past, there have been several killers widely known for their use of insignia – and what do they all have in common? Cult memberships." Sebastian slides easily into the seat previously occupied by Arnold; his eyes moving over the paper.

"I don't know anything about serial killers," I admit, returning my eyes to my own paper. I'm much more interested in memorizing these theories than hearing Sebastian's. "You're distracting me."

Sebastian chuckles and I feel his gaze on me, but I don't return it. There's too much on my mind at the moment, and letting myself get swept up in his violet eyes is not on the agenda. Lately it's been all too easy to forget myself and stare at him; I must have done it ten times this morning alone. I know he sees it – Sebastian is probably one hundred times more perceptive than I am and therefore, hiding anything from him is next to impossible.

But just for kicks, I unbutton the top half of my dress that keeps his marks hidden and show them off, basking in the way his eyes devour the sight. Nothing that is inappropriate is bared, but I can tell Sebastian likes to see his demon marks on my skin. And it's almost as if I feel more connected to him when they aren't concealed behind my clothes. Victorian England is an easy society for hiding skin – in a century where long sleeved ankle-brushing dresses are all the rage; I have no worries of anyone accidentally seeing the marks.

I turn my attention to the pile of face-down papers – the one I've been dreading to look at. They're photos of the crime scenes and bodies, but I think that because it's been years since I've last seen a corpse I will be fine.

That is my hope, anyway.

"My Lady," Sebastian tries for my attention, and I look up. "Perhaps you would like me to look over those?"

I shake my head, not quite realizing how tightly I'm holding the files. My fingers crinkle the edges of the papers and I loosen them, instantly contrite.

"I'm fine. I don't need you to do this for me."

The demon's eyes blaze ultraviolet for a millisecond, so quick I almost don't catch it. He closes his eyes and dips his head slowly in a silent answer, returning to the pages he has in front of him.

I flip my stack over and stifle a cry. When I'd separated the papers, I had purposely blurred my vision as not to see anything gruesome. But now that it's time to actually study the images, I almost can't do it. The first handful are graphic black and white photographs of my mother and father, taken just hours after death. My father, on his knees and hunched forward with a bullet hole through his temple; his shirt torn open to bare his carved chest. That horrible insignia looks just as terrifying in grainy black and white – and the photo brings back fresh memories from that night.

A painful wave washes over me and locks up my body, keeping my eyes glued to the image. I see everything as if it was that night – the brown haired man lifts his head slowly until I'm sure his eyes are locked on mine, positioning his hand over my father's chest. He is still alive at this point, forced to kneel with his hands tied behind his back and calmly waiting for his end. I realize now my father is the strongest man I have ever known in my entire life, simply due to the fact that he was able to rein in his terror as not to scare me. I was there, after all.

I feel Sebastian's curious gaze, and it is able to bring me back to the present. With renewed strength I set the page down, borrowing courage from my deceased father in order to press on. I never found out how my mother died, so this new image is very difficult for me to see. She was executed much in the same way as my father, although her wrists and ankles were bound and a gag smothered her mouth.

I can hear her screaming – the sound of a brief scuffle and her voice dies abruptly, but something tells me she is not dead.

I hold on to that breakable knowledge until a gunshot echoes through the house and extinguishes my hope; quenches my will to live like water to a flame.

My mother is on her side; her hair splayed out around her head and matted by the pool of blood that comes from the wound at the base of her neck. She died in her own blood, hog-tied and no doubt scared witless. I don't know if she was given the insignia before or after her death, but they decorated her arms like tattoos.

I feel my stomach rolling dangerously, but I swallow hard and will myself to keep on. If I'm not strong enough to look at pictures of death then how can I expect to deliver it?

The next picture is Siobhan. I only heard details of her death; I had never seen it firsthand. Looking at the photo of my baby sister makes my heart ache something fierce; her tiny toddler's body is discolored and water-logged. She has bruises decorating a good portion of her skin. Any unbruised part of her body is carved like a turkey – that damned stick figure with his triangle head mocks me. Instead of sickening me it only fuels the fire of rage in the pit of my stomach, and I find my fists clenching in anger.

By the time the photos of my two friends come up, I'm feeling a lot less sick than before. Just as in the stories I was forbidden to read in the newspapers, their nude bodies are strung up in the pulpit of a church, hung by their necks. It's difficult for me to see the oozing burns covering every inch of their bodies, but I stomach it. It helps to think of them as nameless victims instead of Elizabeth and Anne.

Before I rip up the files, I toss them onto the table.

"Mistress, if it is too much…"

"No," I say, forcefully. "It's only making me angry."

Surprise flashes in Sebastian's eyes – I'm sure this isn't the response he was expecting. He glances down at the files and reaches for them himself, studying everything with a steely, expressionless look about his face. Black hair falls into his eyes and his jaw clenches, but other than that he remains unimpressionable. It's difficult for me to get a read on his thoughts.

"What will you do now?" He asks suddenly, looking up. Sebastian's eyes are roiling ultraviolet, and the tone of his voice has me wondering if he's waiting for a command. I carefully expose all of my marks and look him straight in the eye, sitting tall.

"This is an order," I begin, hearing the strength in my own voice. Sebastian's face lights up – almost imperceptibly – as he waits. "You will find the name if the first killer – and you will do it by tomorrow's end."

Sebastian smiles darkly, moving from his chair into his kneel quickly, placing his hand over his breast. He dips his head but his eyes are on mine when he replies.

"Yes, my Lady."

My only reaction is to watch from my perch in the chair and smile.

I am alone the next morning.

I don't worry, though – the feeling that Sebastian is out working on my orders is very strong. And besides; it is almost nice to know I have my home to myself. While I can't deny Sebastian's presence has grown on me greatly, I still appreciate my privacy. It's been quite some time that I've lived alone, away from society and the people that even having another in my home is foreign.

I do not get mail very often, so when the postal carriage rolls to a creaky stop outside it gets my attention. The carrier knocks on my door impatiently and leaves a parcel on my doorstep because I don't arrive in time. It is an unassuming package, wrapped in brown paper and held together with twine. It's only about as big as a piece of paper, but it is thick. I lean against my doorframe, undoing the numerous knots and letting the brown paper fall away to reveal a stack of papers.

Mysteriously, they are all blank. I flip through them a few times, growing confused until I reach the last page. A black rose, presumably pressed flat between two thick books, is glued to the page. Delicate, fancy writing fills the page; so loopy and scrawled I can barely read it. It takes several tries before the words actually begin to sink in, and when they do I feel my knees give out.

I sink to the ground with the paper shaking in my hands.

"Can you imagine if these pages were filled with photos of the ones we've slaughtered? We can picture it. In fact, we have a book filled with such. Would you like to see it, Valentina? It won't be too hard to compile photos for you… although, we will miss them dearly. Can you believe you are the last surviving member of your family? It's hard to fathom that your weak spirit has kept you from exacting revenge for so long. We won't have to wait much longer, though! Your accomplice definitely seems capable of doing what you cannot – will you send him to do your bidding? None of us will think any differently of you when you don't show. Rest assured, your life is safe from us… for now. We will give you exactly two weeks, Valentina, and if you've taken no action we will initiate it. You have grown into a beautiful woman, and it will be too sweet to stain the earth with your intoxicating scarlet blood."

I feel the color drain from my face; the papers flutter to the ground.

The threat in this letter is all too obvious, and the deadline to act immobilizes me.

"Mistress?" Sebastian's voice reaches me – sounding like blessed music. I know I don't have to respond for him to find me, and when he does he kneels in front of me with a worried expression.

"My Lady," he murmurs, taking my chin in his hands and lifting it to see my eyes. I pull my head quickly away, unwilling for Sebastian to see my moment of uncertain weakness. I reach for the letter on the ground and get to my feet, heading inside and beckoning him to follow. I stalk through my house, heading for the kitchen to get myself a glass of water.

"I am not weak," I growl to myself. Sebastian hears me, of course, but my words are for my benefit only. I face away from him, staring hard out the window above the sink. Sebastian waits silently, content to let me speak before he says or does anything. But the longer I stand in silence the quicker his patience wears thin, until finally he speaks.

"Mistress?"

I turn around, letting my empty cup clatter noisily into the sink basin and hand him the letter. This time it is Sebastian who is quiet while I wait, and I'm growing irritated waiting for him. He carefully works his features into an expressionless mask, and his sienna-red eyes drift over the paper quickly. When he looks up and meets my gaze, I glance away, curling my fingers around the edges of the counter.

"I guess I don't have to tell you who it's from." Undoubtedly he sees the insignia in place of a signature. Sebastian makes no sound. Out of the corner of my eye I see him pluck the dried black rose from the page, holding it between two fingers. I hear a quiet sizzle, and the petals of the rose crumble to dust, drifting to the ground like ash.

"Despicable," he says smoothly. "To threaten my Lady." He drops the rose stem to the floor and sets the letter on the table. I look down at the floor, trying to distract myself with anything but the intensity of his gaze.

"Is this the first time they have contacted you?" He looks over his shoulder to where the letter sits, unassuming yet full of malice.

"I've kept myself well off the radar," I tell him, "for this very purpose. But yes, this is the first time anyone's gotten my address."

"Then you will be pleased to know I have found the name of one of the five who murdered your family."

I wonder if Sebastian can see the tainted light that blooms in my eyes at his words. I release my grip on the counter and take a step forward, my face aglow.

"You will have your first dose of revenge as soon as you give the word, my Lady."

"Tonight. We will go tonight, Sebastian."

Sebastian places his hand over his breast and closes his eyes, dipping his head slowly.

"But there is one more thing I need to make very clear to you," I begin, lowering the shoulders of my nightdress to bare Sebastian's marks. His eyes open and glow ultraviolet, waiting for a command. His eyes zero in on my marks and then lift to my green gaze, utterly still and patient.

"You will not let me fail tonight, Sebastian. I will get the names of the other four from this man and we will take each and every one of them out. And when that task is finished, my soul is yours, understand?"

The pentagrams in Sebastian's eyes push forward and glow white, and his responding smile is dark.

"Yes, my Lady."

Those feline-slit pupils grab my gaze and refuse to let it go.

A/N: Two orders in one chapter - Valentina is getting bossy. =D