35: Painting
Darkness held thick inside the manor, she lurked through endless hallways. No one of paranoid nature slumbering were even the slightest disturbed by her early patrolling. Such is a human's fallacy, she mused wickedly. Kagome held no light, manipulating the darkness to assure the safety of the residents.
Her normally noisy heels gave no sound against the waxed woods.
She pushed her senses beyond the Phantomhive owned grounds, and found little threats. A burglar or two awaited at the edge, stalking through the trees with intents to harm the little Phantomhive master. The usual. They will arrive by the morning light, which by then, according to the direction they are heading, Mey-Rin will get rid of these fools easily.
Nothing worthy of the lady butler's interference nor of her interest.
She stopped before a great painting, arriving on the broad floor from the stair below. Kagome didn't bother resisting the urge to gaze upon the previous earl's sculpted face. Her eyes then scanned to his lady, who smiled so serenely that it disgusted her, and lastly, a small boy laid in between his mother and father's arms. His bright blue eyes shone such innocence it was a pity they were removed so quickly as it had.
Kagome then threw a grimace at the painting.
It was so inaccurate it was glaring.
She wondered why her master didn't protest at his lady fiancee's whims to return the hellish thing in the first place. The young lady noticed the painting removed and threw such a fuss over it, and was soothed as fast as she complained. Ciel never once looked at it since his return and demanded the removal a month past. Yet there it was, back on the wall it did not belong.
The artist failed to capture all of the Phantomhive family.
Kagome itched to correct the flaws, but restrained herself and removed herself from the area promptly to continue her patrol.
She was halfway through a door when her body seized in alarm. This sensation twisted her belly, the thinnest and most invisible cracks within the walls bled black with diseased water. Blacker than even darkness itself.
There was a great and powerful threat, waiting at the entrance door outside.
This stranger oozed power. Ancient power. Not to be taken lightly. Kagome bit back a hiss, but did not hurry to greet this creature outside. She snapped back her faltering control, the manor cleansed of bleeding blackness, and Kagome composed herself before the door.
She hated how she lost such control of her power-she was far from being a fledgling, yet there she was-leaking water everywhere!
Pathetic. Kagome sneered at the embossed cravings of the door, her hand fisted on the brass knob. But, how often does a mere demon, no matter how old, encounters, and survives, an Ancient one?
Even she herself made all efforts to avoid them, oftentimes brushing by with pure luck.
A chuckle rang from the other side of the door, and Kagome pressed her expression into plain. This voice would have turn any woman and man alike into a slobbering, drooling mess. It seems that she found herself to be the except, finding this laugh far from worthy of being in her bed.
This voice was also laughing at her second-worth moment of weakness. He knew.
The knob twisted, and her eyes met with a sharp, seductive grin.