Warnings: This chapter is dark. Contains mature themes, and thus the rating changes from T to M. (Descriptive, but not intentionally graphic.)

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Phase III: "wrath"

Chapter 14: in darkness, he falls.

(Ciel)

I ball my hands into a fist for the umpteenth time before I make myself relax. Focus on the task at hand. I tap open a new application, checking another mail account. Old mail, old mail. . . Made a fool of myself. I slam my phone on the desk.

"Embarrassment leads to anger in a small man," my mother used to say. But right or no, my blood boils.

Romantic walk like mum and dad? Idiocy. I have less than a few months remaining. It's made me desperate as well as dumb.

What was I thinking? Of course Sebastian can't be won over by sweet talk, or out maneuvered. And on top of it all, I let him know what I'm looking for. A cold shiver of fear pierces the anger. To turn away from the promise made with a demon…would that break the contract?

Be calm. I take several slow breaths and close my eyes.

Several minutes later, I pick up my phone again. I scan the inbox once more, but this time a word catches my eye

…warehouse. That reminds me of something. Something from years ago…

What would catch Sebastian`s attention?

I click on the email, not to read, but in hopes of jogging my memory.

A warehouse worker…an old lead. Derik Stone. One of the first names linked to my abduction...the man who used a stolen delivery truck and fake ID to slip information to an interior decorator.

The interior decorator was found dead before people even realized I was missing—before Sebastian even got me out of the cage— but Stone had been left alive…

On a hunch, I do a search on him using Aberline's login credentials to check a police database. Meanwhile, I do a cross reference in my own files. I barely remember what we did to check him out.

Police file first…Derik Stone changed his name legally, was arrested for trying to rob a gas station and was in prison for five years. He dropped off the map a month ago when he was released.

A buzz runs down my spine. Does he have information that he's hiding? Could he be running to stay alive?

I open up my file…Sebastian questioned him in jail. He reported that Stone had no name for his informer, that he only received an anonymous email. He never met anyone, and didn't know that my parents were to be shot and burned alive.

But then he disappeared after getting out of jail. If he's alive, Sebastian can find him…if not, maybe we can get a new lead. Anyone trying to knock off their hirelings is a new potential suspect. But something nags at me…if they wanted, these mysterious informants could have killed him in prison. Stone must have known that, so why did he up and disappear at his first chance?

Or maybe I overlooked the obvious. I swear.
A simple search reveals his new name in the online phone book. Damned police database wasn't updated.

An hour or so later, I discover Stone has a temporary job in construction and his flat mate is no-one-notable. So he got out of prison and has a job. I sneer. He doesn't deserve to live happily after being an accomplice to murder.

"Sebastian. Come here."

Sebastian appears at my door, his footsteps ominous. "Yes?" His eyes flicker with amusement, and I wonder if he'll erupt into laughter again, dissolving into undignified guffaws. But the moment passes.

"Do we have someplace discreet to question witnesses, or can I trust you to get me Derik Stone without anyone noticing?" I lean in my chair, trying to muster the imperious manner of my father.

Sebastian's brow furrows, his lips forming a politely puzzled frown. "Derik Stone? The man in prison?"

His usually arrogant manner wiped away with surprise brings a flush of pleasure. It's not often I surprise him; I feel as though I made a particularly clever move in chess. I smile, but try not to gloat. Much.

"He served five years and is out. You know he changed his name, and that woman he contacted in my family's house was killed. But why not him? Inmates die in fights or accidents from time to time—I'm sure these people are organized enough to get one of their own in to do the job if they wanted. But he's moved to the countryside," the words taste sour.

"I want him." I touch my eye. "Don't make me order you. Bring him to me, and we'll question him again."

"Yes my lord," Sebastian bows, his fringe concealing his face. Like a shadow slowly separating from my feet at high noon, he slips out.

I set back, content to wait. My dog will play fetch. I'll finally get answers after all this time…My gut twists with anticipation.

Soon.

o0o0o0o0o

(Sebastian)

So it comes to this. All of my careful nurturing comes to a boy lashing out at anything that offers hope.

A blemished soul shines all the brighter…the boy who turns his arrogant head from the light seeking justice at last resorts to threats of pain. My efforts have brought him here, but while I might revel in my triumph, a nostalgic longing for the damaged innocent I first encountered brings a twinge of sadness. The balance of these two feelings keeps me resigned.

But the next stage is already unfolding around me. How far will he fall, my little master?

It is a simple matter to locate Stone. Keeping him quiet on the way back, on the other hand, is trying.

"I am sorry for the inconvenience sir." I haul the man up by his neck, drop my grip to hold him by his shirt. I dangle him over empty air. "I'm afraid my master is insistent. But if you must, I can arrange for relocation. Is the ground floor preferable?"

The man finally settles, his howling screams subsiding into whimpers. He's more or less quiet for the remainder of the trip. Mustn't keep Ciel waiting.

At the last minute, I remember to veer away from the flat, and toward that place. I alight on the back window where Ciel waits and watches. I lower the man inside quietly, and move to a polite distance away.

The child is a small figure of light against the swarming darkness, but shadows dance across his face. He does not shy from the man, or from me. As quickly as I deposit him, Ciel matches pace. He reaches down, pulling Stone's head up by the hair. He makes a considering noise.

Ciel stands over the man, his expression grim. I look closely, trying to gauge his state of mind. His eyes are hard. Cruel. Perhaps he sees the man on the ground as nothing more than meat with valuable information.

"P-please," Stone coughs, but Ciel cuts him off.

"Do you remember me, Stone?" His voice is soft and sweet, so like my memory of him in our first encounter.

The man swallows hard several times, glancing to me. "I remember him," he gasps. "He's a bloody d-devil." Stone's eyes are wild, terrified and hysterical.

"You…" he focuses on Ciel's face, and is quiet for a long moment. "The boy."
A child no longer.

"Yes," Ciel croons. His teeth glint in the light, and a tight sneer has marred his fair face. He lets go of the hair. "The boy whose family you helped murder. Now. I want information."

I smile softly to myself. Children are impatient, hard to please and always eager for games. I move to close the curtains, and the last of the light vanishes from Ciel's form.

It takes a moment before his eyes adjust to the darkness, but still he speaks. "Tell me what you told the woman."

"N-nothing." The man shakes his head like a dog shaking off water.

Ciel walks over to his chair. He casually pulls out a gun, clicks the safety off and trains it on the man's stomach.

The man begins a low, keening moan.

"Bam!" Ciel shouts. The man jerks, his eyes wide with panic again.

"Just the time!" he shouts. Quieter, now, he continues. "When she was to...God, I don't know! Set something up, pick something up. I really don't know! I put a box in a place." The smell of fear comes off him in pungent waves.

"What was she supposed to do?" Ciel pronounces the words carefully. It could be mistaken for a curious tone, or an intellectual streak, rather than the short temper his words mask.

"I don't know what she did. I really don't know."

"Why my family?"

Anger. Lust for revenge. Disgust. Grief. Excitement. A medley of delectable emotions ripple on his soul, behind his eyes.

But this way…is not refined. There is no elegance in his questioning, no hidden message in his words. He plays the game with ruthless and brutal efficiency—with all the grace of an SUV barging through a jewelry shop.

I would sigh, but silence speaks greater. This is not how I envisioned the last few moves in our game…

"I don't know," the man whispers.

"Who do you work for?"

"I don't know—I did it with emails!"

Ciel sighs with exasperation, and paces about his room. He stops by his computer desk, and runs a finger across the shiny plastic. "Why did you change your name?"

I look at the man, all trussed up, sweating with fear on the floor. He looks like a worm.

Stone meets my gaze and visibly flinches back with fear. Ciel looks to me for the first time since I've returned.

"I…because," he swallows, his voice raw. "I did things. Other things." He looks like he might swallow his tongue.

The boy considers me, and then looks back to his subject. "Sebastian, can you tell if he's lying?" His words are all honey, a casual, gentle request. He delights in the panic it arouses in Stone.

I smile, and fix him with my gaze. "I know a few techniques to encourage him to stay honest," I say, keeping my tone mild.

"No! Keep him away." His voice breaks.

"What things?What are you hiding?"

The man's eyes flick from the gun and back to me, as though considering which is the bigger threat.

I open my mouth, ready to taste the confession of sin.

o0o0o0o0o

(Alois)

Of late, Ciel has been rash, even more secretive than usual.

I've been keeping an eye on him these past months. Since the spring he witnessed my summoning, and everything after. I know he's been to his aunt's house and consulted her library. I know that he's been to the Viscount's party, and I know he questioned and left a Druitt cult-member tied up… and so, I waited.

I waited to be approached, for Ciel to ask so nicely for information that I've collected about the occult. About fairies.

But Ciel doesn't come.

Instead, he sends Sebastian off like a dog to do this or that, and now? He has a pest in his hidey-hole. Without even talking to me. Again. As if I were some ignorant country boy to be left alone, and not a courtesan who knows deep secrets and greater magic.

I thought he valued me—or at least my information—a little more than that.

And so I watch the curtain ripple closed and lose my visual. Now what is Ciel doing in there?

There's a slight ruckus as something large falls over, and a soft but resonating thump. The floor doesn't quite shake, but the windows do. Something's going on in there—and the man screams once. He's not screaming in a happy sort of way—more like the terrified shitless sort of way some people get around Sebastian.

I can't hear whatever it is Ciel is saying. And I don't know if Sebastian replies.

I imagine I hear the sound of a door closing. The door to the basement? But it's just fancy. I hear nothing.

Nothing at all.

Not yet ready to give up, I pull a matchbook from my pocket—the sticks of real wood add elements necessary to the magic, and with a single strand of Ciel's hair to tune the scrying flame, I let it go. I cup it between my hands, and pull it out, lengthening and spinning it like a spider's glossy web.

It appears down below, in the basement Ciel and his demon have barred me from. But they won't see it; the fire is black, mere smoke on the other side, and I can see no details—it's too dark. Just once, I see the glint of metal.

I can hear only snatches of sound—clinks and quiet thuds. Rustles of fiber or rocks under tread.

This goes on for some time.

At last, I hear words.

"You don't want me to do this." Ciel's voice is like a knife. My skin turns to gooseflesh; my friend can't-

I sharpen the fire with a pull of an ember-thread.

"Take a care." Ciel sounds bored, but on edge.

I shift, moving the flame downward and over. Maybe a change in angle will reveal what's. going. on.

The next words are aching, fearful, and empty. "—woman—"

A crackle of flame hides the rest. What did you do, Ciel Phantomhive?

I wait. Again I hear whimpers, screams and little else with my scrying flame

There's finally bits of the stranger's words, "That woman and" I concentrate, feel the fire warm between my palms. "-er red pet—"

An eerie sense of the predator is upon me. It's like I've wandered down the forest path to find a great wolf—monstrous and calm and huge, but wrapped in a man's clothing.

There's only a soft whisper, a tiny, "hhf" of breath, and it winks out.

A chill runs down my spine. Sebastian.He's taken the link to my scrying flame—and I can hear naught else.

Before panic can freeze my feet, I stand. Pull myself from the whispers of notice-me-not smoke—fire and air are my elements, after all—and throw myself as quietly as I can to the steps. I take flight, free footed, trying not to think of the beast behind me.

Even minutes down the street, I feel its ragged breath on my neck. I pant for breath, expecting cool hands to drag me back, in through that window and down to the cold, dark basement. Where Ciel waits.

My foot comes down too hard. My ankle twists, and the thin shoes pull all the wrong ways. I should have worn boots—but I've learned to forget the outside. Ever since that time…

…my breath catches. I feel that chill, the whisper of wind that comes with Sebastian's too fast feet—and I cry out. Curl down towards the floor, and turn my eyes toward him in a desperate plea for more time—

-only to discover the empty street. Cold and heartless.

There are no demons here.

o0o0o0o0o

...tbc...

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