Eleanora wasn't sure where she was. The train station in London had been hot, dirty, and full of annoyed angry people. This train station was clean and airy and all the people around didn't seem stressed at all—everything was working with perfect efficiency.

She had to go through another line to get away from the train station. The lady at the counter asked for her name and made her prick her finger and bleed on a square on a paper. But once she was outside the train station, she looked around in shock.

The world where she was in was much cleaner and brighter than the world that she had left. The colors were more vibrant, the setting sun warmer, the air purer. All of the people around were dressed in lovely clothes and they all were quite attractive. She wondered if she had gotten off on the wrong step and ended up in Paradise.

She checked to make sure that the address was still safely clutched in her fist. Then she set off to find a cab.

There was one parked outside the train station. Unlike the cabs in London, which were essentially small horse-drawn carriages, this one was a very shiny car. She nervously rapped on the window with her knuckles and the driver rolled it down.

"Yes miss? What can I help you with?"

"I-I need to go somewhere," she said shyly. "Can you take me?"

"Certainly, if you have the money and the address."

Eleanora got into the backseat and gave the address to the driver. She peeked at the remainder of her savings: there seemed to be quite a lot left, but then again, she wasn't sure.

"…Miss, are you sure you want to go here?" The driver seemed nervous.

"Why yes. Why?"

"Nothing, miss; it's just that this place isn't really suitable for…young people like…yourself." The driver eyed warily Eleanora's tattered dress.

"I'm sorry, but that's the only place I have to go," Eleanora said. The driver shrugged and drove off.

Eleanora didn't sleep; she was too interested in her surroundings. There were streets and carriages, just like in London, only these carriages were pulled by unholy horses, like the one at Phantomhive. They had bat wings and horns and skeletal faces with vampiric fangs. What had the butler called them? Telstras?

The buildings were beautiful and the people more so. But as the cab sped on, Eleanora noticed something strange: there were no beggars out on the streets. This place truly was a Paradise.

It took about three hours, but eventually the cab pulled up to a huge mansion, even bigger than Phantomhive. There were lights in the windows and lots of carriages were pulled up around it. Clearly someone was having a party.

"Here we are, miss," the driver said. "But if I were you, I'd ask to go somewhere else. This is the Michaelis' city home."

"Michaelis?" Eleanora asked, bringing out her money.

"Yes," the driver said as he counted out his fare. "The Michaelis is one of the most powerful families in Hell—the second most powerful, the second most-rich, and the first most liked. Very dangerous people. I'd stay far away from them if I were you. It's not safe to get on their bad side."

"I'll be fine," she said. "Keep the change."

She left the cab and watched it slowly pull away and drive off into the night. Then she walked up to the front doors, which were guarded by two men with blank expressions.

"Invitation, please," one of them said.

"Oh!" Eleanora said. "Uh…Here you go." And she gave him her ticket stub from the train.

"This isn't an invitation," the man said.

"Of course it isn't," Eleanora said, thinking fast. "The real one is right behind you."

Both of the men turned around and Eleanora darted past them, into the house. The men immediately started to give chase, still looking blank, as if they didn't have minds of their own.

Eleanora ran as fast as she could, running up halls and down halls and once up a magnificent staircase before ducking into a huge room, filled with people.

A party.

Parties were good to hide in because there's so many people around. Eleanora ducked into the crowd and wandered away, always looking behind her just in case the men had followed her inside.

They hadn't. She saw them peek into the room and then walk away, going back the way that they had come.

She was getting odd looks from the partygoers. She found a dark corner and hid, watching and waiting. Why had the dream told her to come here? Maybe there was someone here who could help her. But the man in the dream had told her to go to the address and that was it, not to seek out someone. Eleanora began to feel a little lightheaded. There were many people around, so many scents, so many colors, so much to know and in such a small space…She had to lean against the wall for support and noticed a woman was staring at her.

This woman was beautiful. She was mostly a soft, candy-red: the color of love. There was darkness around her, indicating that she was an unholy. Eleanora tried to concentrate, and in-between all the other scents, she realized that the woman smelled familiar—as if they were related somehow. She also realized that the woman was a demon.

In fact, know that she was thinking about it, she realized that everyone in the party wasn't human. There were demons and vampires and other things that she couldn't recognize, but there were only a couple of humans in the throng; the rest were unholy.

But the woman was still staring at her, probably wondering why a stabbed-up beggar girl was in her party. She reached out and grabbed a man and began whispering to him, gesturing with her head towards Eleanora.

This man wore a mask. Lots of people in the party wore masks—the vampires. The man was mostly black but he also smelled familiar. He turned and began looking at her with curiosity. Eleanora began to feel a little uncomfortable. She moved away to another corner.

Music started and a dance begun. It was lovely but it made her head hurt. She felt a bit overwhelmed; she wanted to go outside and get some air. She began looking around for a balcony or something but then someone stood in front of her and knelt down before her.

"Hello," the person said in a beautiful voice, like a chorus of bells. "Are you lost, little one?"

It was the woman, the woman who had been staring at her. She smiled at Eleanora and her smile was so familiar…Eleanora had seen it before…

It was the butler's smile.

Her eyes were a lovely sunset pink—the exact color of the demonic eyes of the butler.

Eleanora was too frightened to move or to speak; she froze and just stared at the woman in terror.

The woman laughed lightly and pushed a strand of hair back from her face. She was lovely by human standards, with rosy cheeks and golden-blonde hair that curled in natural ringlets.

"Poor thing," she said. "Are you lost?"

The beggar girl was looking a bit sick.

"Oh, is this your first time at a party? You should be wearing a mask. You poor thing. Why don't you come with me? Then we can find your parents."

Eleanora was feeling too ill to protest. The woman gently took her hand and led her out of the ballroom.

She was taken to a sitting room and placed on the couch. The woman kept looking at her strangely.

"You look familiar," she suddenly said. "And your soul is remarkably similar to others that I know. Have we met before?"

Eleanora shook her head rapidly.

"Well, no matter," the woman said brightly. "You just wait here and make yourself at home. I'll be right back."

She left the room. Eleanora looked around her. The room was very luxurious—gold and precious gems were shining everywhere, the couch she was sitting on was so very soft and silky, there was a golden Victrola and a telephone and a big cabinet filled with crystal glasses and fine wine.

The woman returned a few minutes later.

"He's coming now," she said, partly to herself, partly to Eleanora. "Now then, dear," she said, sitting across from her, "What's your name?"

"E-Eleanora, ma'am."

"Where are your parents?"

"I don't have any."

"What? None? What about your mother?"

"She's dead."

"Your father?"

"I never had one to begin with."

"Oh! How sad," the woman said and she actually looked very sorry to hear it. "But how did you end up here?"

"I…uh…" Eleanora said, feeling awkward. "Uh…a dream told me to come here. I woke up and I had the address in my hand."

"A dream? Did someone appear to you in this dream?"

"Y-Yes, that man in the church…"

"What man in the church?"

"One of the Seven Sints; the fourth one…"

"The fourth Seven Sint," the woman murmured, looking away. "The fourth one…The Demon of Lust…Asmodeus." She looked back at Eleanora. "Asmodeus? Are you sure that it was Asmodeus?"

"I…think so."

"THERE, I'm here; now what is so goddamned important that I couldn't start the drinking game and who in the name of all that is sweet and delicious is this delightful little crumpet?"

Eleanora looked up in shock. A man had just entered the room—the man that the woman had talked to in the party. He grinned at her, his vampire teeth flashing. He was tall and dashing, with skin as white as Eleanora's and the dark circles under his eyes, as if he had been punched in the cheeks. His medium-length black hair was tied back with a bit of dark-red ribbon and his green eyes were bright with merriment and maliciousness.

"Jean," the woman said, "This is Eleanora. She said that she was told to come here by Asmodeus."

"Grandfather?" the man said. "The man's been dead for thousands of years, Rose; only a Michaelis would warrant a visit from him…"

"But look at her," Rose murmured. "She looks just like us. She has your black hair, and her hair curls like mine. She's a vampire, and her soul is so, so familiar…"

"You know something; you're right," Jean said, frowning at Eleanora. "She has the Michaelis scent. But you know who she really reminds me of?"

They shared a look and then Jean stepped forward.

"Miss, if I may have your hand, please."

Eleanora tentatively gave him her hand. He turned it over and sank his fangs into her palm. He remained like that for a while before extracting his teeth and licking his lips, savoring the taste of her blood. He looked very angry; his pupils had become diamond-shaped.

"Well?" Rose asked.

"I have to make a phone call," Jean growled and strode over to the phone. He swirled in the numbers and leaned against the desk, waiting.

"Hello?" he said in a cheerful falsetto. "Is Mr. Sebastian Michaelis present? Would you kindly tell him that there's a young lady here that desperately wants to talk to him? Oh thank you soo much!" He waited some more. "Hello? Sebastian? Wonderful news, sugar pie. I was just having a party—just a small affair, mind you; so sad you couldn't come—and then I see this sweet little cupcake in a corner. So naturally I questioned her, we had a few drinks; and guess what her name was? Eleanora Michaelis." There was silence. Jean looked even angrier and he dropped the falsetto. "The ! is your daughter doing here, Sebastian?"

"Eleanora!" they heard Sebastian's voice on the other end. "Is Eleanora there? Where is she? Is she alright? Is she safe? I have to talk to her!"

"DON'T CHANGE THE SUBJECT MARMITE!" Jean shouted. "Why the hell's your daughter wandering around the Seventh Level without a proper escort?!"

"I-I don't know; I haven't seen her since yesterday; is she alright? Let me talk to her!"

"You know what you are?" Jean said. "You, my good spam, are disowned. You hear me? DISOWNED! D-I-S-S-O-H-um-H-uh…Shit, how do you spell this? Well, never mind, because you are still disowned!"

"Let me talk to him," Rose said, taking the phone out of Jean's hand. "Hello? Sebastian?"

"Mother?" Sebastian said on the other end. "Is Eleanora there? Is she safe? Is she alright? Is she scared? Where is she? I'm coming over there immediately!"

Eleanora gasped and shook her head rapidly.

"I don't think she wants to see you," Rose said coolly. "But why is she here?"

"She ran away!"

"And good for her too!" Jean shouted.

"Why did she run away?" Rose said, waving her hand at Jean.

"…I'm not sure," Sebastian said sulkily.

"Sweetie crumpet cakes," Jean said, kneeling before Eleanora, "why did you run away from the canned meat product? Surely there's a reason; yummy little muffins like yourself don't just run away for no reason…"

"I ran away because he killed my mother."

"You killed her WHAT?!" Jean shouted at the phone.

"Hush Jean," Rose said. "Now, Sebastian: you killed her WHAT?!"

"I might have removed her cambionic vessel, yes."

"Who the ! cares if it's the cambionic vessel? I can't believe you killed the girl's mother!" Jean said.

"I'm inclined to agree," Rose said. "That was very horrible of you."

"Did you see the marks on her body?" Sebastian said coldly. "The vessel did that. I was merely protecting her."

"I never asked him to!" Eleanora said.

"She never asked you to!" Jean said.

"Somebody had to protect her! If I hadn't gotten there in time…"

"But she was my mother!"

"But she was her mother!"

"I will not be having this conversation right now!" Sebastian said. "Where is she? Are you at the city house? Wait there; I'll be there tomorrow…"

"I don't want him to come," Eleanora whimpered. "Please don't let him come!"

"She doesn't want you to come," Rose said. "Just stay there for the time being."

"But—"

"Sebastian," Rose said gently. "It's for the best. Just wait for a time."

Eleanora could hear him sigh on the other end.

"Fine," he said gloomily. "You know best, after all."

"That's right," Rose said. "Oh! Your father wants to say something—"

Jean was signing rapidly with his hands.

"He says that you're disowned."

He nodded, turned around, and then turned back. He blew a kiss towards Rose and made a heart.

"He says that he loves you very much and for you to be a good boy."

"I will," Sebastian said. "You'll take care of her, won't you? You'll protect her?"

"I shall watch her the way I watch a plate of frying bacon," Jean said grandly.

"Did you get that?"

"I got it," Sebastian sighed. "Goodbye."

"Goodbye, dearest," Rose said and hung up. Eleanora was deep in thought.

"Wait—So if you're his mother, and if you're his father…and assuming that I'm his daughter…then that will make me…That will make you…"

"We're your grandparents dear," Rose said gently. "Your father's parents."

"But don't call me 'grandfather,'" Jean said. "I'm still too much of a sexy beefcake to take that name."