Warnings: The exhibition. 'nuff said.
A/N: There were some reviewers who stated that they were having a bad feeling about the exhibition or the following chapters. Let me just say that they were right. Sorry.
Also, on a lighter note, let's not forget to check out Alex Beoulve's where she has a new Crescendo drawing! It's awesome! :D
So far, so good. Also, let me mention up here that the next Interlude will be up on Saturday. That would be all. Enjoy?
Chapter 26
Ciel hated being on Aleister's grounds.
What Ciel hated even more was being on Aleister's grounds with a selected bunch of people who laughed too loudly, talked too much, and smelled like an herb garden and five different kinds of cologne at once. Champagne was flowing in litres, the ball room was full, and everywhere were works of Aleister's favourite artists; at least all over the first and second floors. There would be an auction later, as far as Ciel was informed, and judging by the amount of people that lurked around Sebastian's paintings, chances were high that Sebastian would leave this mansions relieved of several works.
But if there was anything he hated more than being on Aleister's ground with so many people around him, having Alois forced upon him in exactly this location promised to take the cake.
Claude had run off to some other place, Ciel wasn't sure where, but he also didn't care too much about Claude of all people. All he wanted was to have his peace for the next five minutes – preferably with Sebastian around – before he would have to play until his fingers hurt. Right now, there was a pianist providing background music. She sounded promising, Ciel thought, and if she was a member of the Phoenix Society, he wasn't sure why he hadn't met her yet. She was almost as much of a musical genius as he was.
But only almost.
"Ciel," Alois whined right into his ear, "let's go to the buffet."
"Why don't you go there alone?" Ciel bit out between clenched teeth. The headache of the year was descending upon him. He didn't understand how Claude endured this kid.
Not that Sebastian, standing barely a foot away from him, seemed inclined to help Ciel out anytime soon. Of course not. But he would definitely use Ciel as his heater (the boy liked to ignore the fact that Sebastian was his human heater).
Somewhere around here was Cheslock. Ciel had seen a few of his works, so the artist himself also had to be there.
And then there was Ash. Despite the fact that he and Aleister seemed to be on horrible terms, the sculptor pranced around, charmed every woman in his reach and impressed every man and regarded Aleister's songbirds as if they were dogs of a special breed. If he liked one, he would simply spend the next half an hour with her on his arm. Ciel had seen Aleister watching them, lips pinched into a tight line the moment he had laid his eyes on Ash conversing with one of his 'daughters' in sign language.
The boy suspected that their dispute had turned into a silent war by now. Whatever was their problem, anyway?
"Ciel," Alois whined, "I'm hungry. I haven't eaten all day. Let's go to the buffet."
"Silly kid," Sebastian murmured to Ciel's left.
Ciel regarded Alois with forced calm. "Be assured that I'll still be here when you return. I'm not going to run away."
"I'm not expecting you to," Alois chirped. But he didn't budge.
If Ciel had a gun, he'd have used it on himself by now.
Sebastian fished his ringing mobile phone out of his pocket and excused himself, leaving Ciel to deal with Alois. The boy immediately missed the artist's presence, the only thing that had kept him calm enough so far, and he peeled Alois' fingers from his arm, trying to be gentle, before he too excused himself and went to fetch his father's old violin.
Sebastian had to be talking to Lau at the moment. The sun had set long ago, and the room was reflected in the large windows: People standing in small groups, talking to each other, pointing at several works from time to time. Ciel could make out Aleister's snow white suit as the man almost danced through the mass of people, ever the attentive host, and sometimes he vanished from the ballroom to tend to the other guests that were in every other room of the two storeys available to them.
Soon Ciel would have to sneak past those people during the blackout. He didn't exactly know where to go, so he'd have to be close to the stairs that would lead him to the third storey. They'd had it all planned, and it sounded fairly easy: The blackout would occur, Lau's hackers would find a way to properly distract the people, and Ciel would just slip past them, get in that mysterious room and see if Edgar and/or Maurice were there. So far, he hadn't seen any of the songbirds walking around with a covered face or wearing shorts, but then again, having your incredibly famous captives attend your party didn't sound like something Aleister would want to do.
Sighing, he came up to the podium and smiled at the pianist – it was expected that all the artists knew each other, so Ciel just went with that – who gathered her sheet music while he tuned his violin and then took out music that looked suspiciously like the piano part of the first duet he'd wrote for this evening. So Aleister had provided the girl with the music. Good to know, Ciel thought dryly. The girl was now giving him a slightly more critical look and he barely refrained from sneering at her.
A butler announced Ciel who redirected his frozen smile at all the eyes that were glued to him. Just when he saw Sebastian re-entering the room, he started playing. The artist winked at him and before Ciel could screw up his playing, he looked away. It was insane how they had met right here just like this almost seven months ago. And now, they were snogging. Ciel couldn't even say that they were dating, but Sebastian had promised to take him out for dinner, to the cinema, just somewhere, after the exhibition. So… maybe they were dating. Kind of. He didn't really know.
Whatever. It wasn't as if their relationship had been easy to pinpoint throughout the last six months, so why should it now? Sebastian obviously had a problem with the age difference, Ciel still had problems with physicality, both of them weren't very emotional, and they were currently focussed on their private investigation. So… so far they were friends who snogged each other once in a while. It sounded off, but appropriate, and Ciel found himself nodding at that definition. He'd call it that. It sounded safe.
At the back of the room was William Michaelis, pulling at his white gloves while Grell daintily sipped champagne. Had Sebastian and his cousin already spotted each other? William must be looking straight at him, for he didn't even twitch when Grell patted his shoulder, and then shook his arm, trying very hard to get the man's attention. Ciel briefly wondered if this was a healthy relationship.
Alois had gotten himself a plate, had piled it with food and had found Sebastian. Instead of listening to Ciel's musical genius, he started a one-sided conversation.
Somewhere across the room, another pair of eyes was fixed on him more intently than the rest were. The other guests started chatting again, keeping their voices low as if not to stifle the music, but there was one stare that persisted.
Ciel ended the first piece and earned polite applause before he started the next one.
OOO
The half an hour was over faster than expected. Seeing that people were trying to approach him, Ciel quickly went to Sebastian standing by the door, grabbed the artist hand and quickly lead him up to the second storey where a smaller amount of people were drinking and discussing art. The boy and the artist earned and returned polite nods, but thankfully nobody made a move to approach them.
"Geez, Ciel, stop running off!"
Ciel rolled his eyes. "Alois."
The boy walked around Sebastian, now obnoxiously chewing on a piece of bubble gum which seemed to annoy the older man, popping it occasionally. "You did a good job up there," the dancer finally said.
"Thank you," Ciel murmured, glancing at Sebastian who didn't appear to be very pleased with the current situation. But the artist held up four fingers and Ciel, understanding, nodded. Did he really have so little time left?
"Ciel! Alois! And my muse-murdering BFF! Good to see you." Undertaker appeared out of nowhere, approaching them with his arms spread wide. It was strange to see his hands without the sleeves of his too-big pullovers covering at least half of them.
"Please don't call me your BFF," Sebastian said blandly as Undertaker threw an arm around his shoulders. "I'm not."
Ciel found it quite interesting that Sebastian had completely ignored to comment on the part where Undertaker called him a murderer in public. He could see the resigned irritation in the artist's eyes, though.
"You could be my ex-damsel in distress if you want." Undertaker grinned. "God knows I've been saving you a lot during our childhood."
Sebastian gave him a very, very dry look.
"You never told me that you saved him multiple times," Gregory said to Undertaker, appearing behind the photographer's shoulder from… somewhere. When exactly had Gregory joined them?
"Oh, I did," Undertaker chimed, obviously pleased when Sebastian only made a small noise in the back of his throat but made no move to interrupt, "I defended his honour a lot. The kids bullied him, but they ended up having nightmares about me as soon as I was done with them, so they wouldn't even look at my BFF the wrong way."
"Stop calling me that."
"Sorry. My damsel." The photographer giggled.
"I think I hate you now," Sebastian murmured. "Are you drunk?"
"Never," Undertaker replied, awkwardly emphasising the 'v'. "I don't need alcohol to get me into this state. I'm simply ecstatic to see you! My sweet damsel."
Ciel had to try very hard not to laugh.
"You're drunk." Sebastian said this very seriously. Even Gregory seemed amused.
The photographer/mortician simply grinned widely at his friend but, well, he wasn't denying it now. Sebastian checked the time on his watch and peeled Undertaker off him before he took Ciel by his arm and excused them with a charming smile. Knowing that the time was ready, the boy followed without complaint, feeling a sense of dread wash over him.
"Can we speak safely?" he asked quietly as they passed the other guests, stopping after a while and pretending to look at the displayed art.
"There are no listening devices," Sebastian said in a lone tone. They passed a pair of songbirds and Sebastian followed them with his gaze. "At least none that you can dispose of."
"Did Lau see them?"
"He said that he saw a cloaked figure entering the master bedroom an hour before your little concert. So far, nobody else has entered or left the room."
"The master bedroom?" Ciel repeated.
"He probably thinks it's the safest place in his house." Sebastian looked at the guests warily. "He has cameras there."
"So?" Ciel fisted his hands by his side. "Is it them?"
"Lau has no access to those cameras."
"He doesn't?" Ciel barely realised that he had raised his voice until Sebastian shushed him. "What are you paying him for?" he asked in a lower voice.
Sebastian seemed amused. "I'm not paying him at all."
The boy could have slapped himself for that one. "Well, we'll see where it gets you."
The artists chuckled. "I'll remember to pay him with force the next time I want something from him." He still had his hand curled around the boy's lower arm, and his amused expression faltered slightly. "It's going to start soon. Go."
Ciel took a deep breath. This was it. "I'm going to get a whole chocolate cake for myself when I come back."
Sebastian rolled his eyes, a smile playing around his lips. "Sure." His hand lingered on Ciel's lower arm, a source of comfortable warmth that seeped through the boy's thin shirt. "Be safe," Sebastian said.
"Uhm." Ciel inwardly recoiled from the giddy feeling inside his stomach. Something was off, and he wasn't thinking about Aleister. "Yeah. Thanks. You… too." He cleared his throat and sneered at the artist's arm. "Let me go now."
"I'm not holding you back," Sebastian said.
Taking a last look at Sebastian's face, Ciel started walking away. The artist took his hand back. The skin under Ciel's shirt felt cold.
Trying to look as if he wasn't about to free abducted victims (it was harder than it sounded), Ciel made his way through the mass of guests. He knew where the master bedroom was as Aleister had shown Ciel and his Aunt Anne around, showing off the lush interior design and every bathroom that held a special theme. He had also simply burst into his favourite songbirds' rooms (it had been other girls back then, Ciel realised with a shock that had him stop dead in his tracks for a second before he collected himself quickly), just to show them how much variety he had to offer in his house. Clearly, Aleister was anything but modest, but that wasn't exactly unknown.
He had just arrived in the highest story when he heard a very suspicious "Ciel?" coming from the flight of stairs behind him.
Ciel froze. "Yes, Alois?"
"What are you doing here?" the teen asked. Ciel hadn't heard him approach, but suddenly Alois was next to him, scrutinising him.
"Going to the bathroom."
"There are bathrooms in the first two storeys." Alois frowned. "Seriously. I'm not stupid. What are you doing here? Don't try to fool me."
Ciel was spared from answering when the lights went out. Sighing in relief at Lau's good sense for timing, Ciel tried to remember which way he had to go. He took out his mobile phone to have a little bit of light. It was pitch black around them.
"Ciel?" Alois, again. "What is going on?"
"Shut up," Ciel murmured. He could hear the guests downstairs, but Aleister's flowery outdoor voice was missing.
... Was he going to come up and check on whoever was inside his room? Ciel had to be fast.
"Ciel."
The boy turned around sharply, glaring at Alois even though he knew that the other teen was unable to see him properly. "If you want to know what's going on, I need you to be quiet for a while and help me."
There was a pause. Ciel, who didn't have the time for that, simply started walking towards the direction he thought to be the one that lead him to Aleister's room. He heard fast but soft footsteps behind him.
"What do you want me to do?" Alois asked in a whisper.
"Just stand by the door and listen if someone is coming, alright?" After a few more moments of walking, the faint light of Ciel's mobile caught a white door. Aleister couldn't be more obvious about his bedroom door if he painted it neon pink. Besides, what was his problem with the colour white, anyway?
He tested the door handle. Of course the room was locked. He knocked. "Is somebody in there?"
No answer.
Ciel knocked again. "This is Ciel Phantomhive. M-… Maurice, are you in there?"
"Maurice?" Alois demanded in an incredulous half-whisper. Ciel shushed him, but Alois didn't listen. "That's what Claude wouldn't tell me the other week. Is he really in that room?"
Ciel knocked again. "That's what I'm trying to find out."
There was a click of the lock, and if Alois had been about to say anything, it died in his throat. Ciel took another deep breath and steeled himself. "Do me a favour and stay outside. Aleister might come and somebody needs to watch out."
"Sure," Alois murmured, his voice breaking. Ciel didn't feel any better than the teen sounded.
The boy went inside.
The room smelled every bit like Aleister, making Ciel want to gag slightly. Aleister's scent matched the cultist's scent, he thought, not without fear rushing through his veins. But Ciel had a right to be afraid, hadn't he? He'd been strong for so long.
Something attacked him.
Ciel nearly screeched, whirling around and pushing at the attacker in defence. Somebody shushed above him, and in the weak light, Ciel saw a pair of tight trousers, a thin top. The boy looked further up and locked gazes with Maurice.
He had never been more relieved to see that young man's face again.
But Maurice looked so tired and exhausted, and his smile couldn't reach his eyes. Instead of saying anything, Ciel was embraced fiercely. Swallowing, the boy first had to struggle against his own flight instinct before he could awkwardly pat Maurice's back. "Is Edgar with you?" he finally asked.
Maurice shushed him. Ciel couldn't help but frown at that.
Finally, the model let go of him and walked over to where Ciel could see the bed. Somebody was sitting there. Maurice came to a halt in front of that person, and there was only silence. Ciel stepped closer to the bed. "Are you okay?" he asked the person. When the light actually hit Edgar, Ciel could answer the question for himself. The model was only a shadow of what he had once been, as if someone had etched worry and exhaustion into his face with a blunt knife, painting dark circles under his eyes with a brush and stretching the skin over his cheekbones. Edgar's lips had become sandpaper and after a short moment in which they just looked at each other, the face of the Faustus brand hid his most known feature from Ciel, hiding behind a curtain of blond hair.
Maurice held a finger to his lips when Ciel looked at him, ready to ask a question. When Ciel simply regarded him with a quizzical look, Maurice carefully brushed Edgar's hair aside, earning no protest from the older model. Instead, Edgar simply let him, leaned in even, as if Maurice's touch was something he had yearned.
Ciel tried not to think too much about what had happened to them in the last four months – four months! – and instead looked at what was around Edgar's neck: A collar.
Maurice pointed to it, to his ear, after that to the boy and Ciel understood: That collar was a listening device.
Whoever supervised it knew that he was here.
"Good to know," Ciel muttered darkly. "It's not as if shutting up is going to help now."
Maurice looked at him as if he seriously doubted the consequences of having written that note two weeks ago. How rude. Ciel was helping him, wasn't he?
Ciel ignored that look. Instead he checked the collar's lock. His gaze also caught the handcuffs around Edgar's red wrists. He looked at Maurice questioningly but the young man shrugged. How come he wasn't handcuffed, anyway?
He could care about that later. Right now he just had to get the two of them out. As soon as they were in a safe place, Ciel would ask them about Aleister. They just had to know something, didn't they?
If any of the three had heard the thud right outside the open door, they didn't show it. Ciel had started to whisper again, demanding whether Maurice had a key. The model simply shook his head.
"We go like that then. Anything I should know?" Ciel asked, starting to head towards the door. He turned around and used his mobile to give them a sliver of light. Obviously, for a reason unknown to Ciel, Edgar refused to get up. He slid backwards and rested his back against the headboard, fiercely batting away Maurice's hands. Maurice, who seemed to be stronger than Edgar despite having been here longer, didn't even make a serious effort to simply pull the other from the bed.
"Are you coming?" Ciel asked.
Edgar shook his head. Maurice's expression fell.
Ciel walked over to them again, scowling at Edgar. "I didn't come all the way here and risk my safety just to return empty-handed."
Edgar looked at him for a long time. "Well," he finally half-whispered after a few attempts to find a voice that didn't sound like him at all, "I didn't ask for you to come." And then he looked away, one hand touching the collar.
"Would you come with us if it were off?" Ciel asked.
Edgar nodded.
"We can do that after we're out of here," Ciel said. "Come on, move."
Edgar shook his head again. Maurice looked like he might cry.
"I won't come back for you," Ciel said, trying to stop his voice from quivering. This was bad. "Come with us."
And Edgar nodded towards Maurice and mouthed 'Police'.
Ciel didn't like it one bit to leave the other model here since he had come for both.
Surprisingly enough, it was Maurice who urged him to go. In the end, they had no time after all, Ciel knew that too. But they were leaving Edgar behind.
Right at the doorstep, Ciel stumbled over something soft. He looked down carefully, dreading to see what he thought he'd find. It was silent around them.
The moment he looked down was the moment the lights came back on. Alois lay unconscious at Ciel's feet. Before the boy had a chance to react, movement in the corner of his eye caught his attention. Right next to him was a tall, cloaked figure and the air reeked of blood.
And this time, it wasn't a hallucination.
Ciel didn't pause to look at the cultist more closely. He was here and that was the worst thing that could have happened in this night. It seemed plausible that Aleister had donned a cloak, for as the man started moving, Ciel caught a glimpse of his white trousers.
Ciel grabbed Maurice by the hand and ran. But Maurice, obviously less used to running than Ciel was with his asthma, stumbled, slowing the boy further down. Suddenly Maurice's wrist beneath Ciel's hand was gone, and he heard a thud as Maurice was pushed harshly against the wall.
And Ciel could hear a second pair of footsteps, maybe a third and while he hoped that maybe Sebastian had come along, it couldn't be him.
Sebastian wouldn't have let the cultist wrap an arm around Ciel's middle and press a damp cloth over his mouth and nose.
Yes… this was all too familiar.
Before the fear could consume him, darkness did.
End
of
ACT IV – Temptation
