Such a reckless girl, I thought with an exasperated sigh. Per usual, the mistress exercised her extraordinary ability to land herself in trouble rather well.

I carried Cielle back to her dormitory in seconds, a blur to anyone who might've seen us. After slipping in through the window, I laid her slumbering form in the four poster. She reminded me just then of a bedraggled kitten that had been soaked in the rain. Placing my hand over hers, I felt her skin—frostbitten to the touch. My brows knitted. It wouldn't do for the girl to catch pneumonia. Working with professional indifference, I promptly divested her of her drenched outer garments, however, I let the wet chemise and drawers remain to provide her a modicum of modesty—though it was hardly much—when she awoke.

I kneeled to the floor and attended to her wet stockings next. The young mistress gave a small shudder as the first one came off, and she shifted her leg in a compromising position, exposing the drawer's split seam in the centre. I did not understand why the Victorians insisted on open crotch knickers for women yet covered their chair and table legs because of their supposedly suggestive nature. Given the invention of massagers, innumerable flagellation clubs across London, and the popular inflatable femme de voyage, I often mused if the Victorians' prudish demeanor—including Cielle's own— was merely a facade to cover up their true prurient fascinations. As I tugged off the last stocking, I refrained from staring at the drawer in question. I found it in poor taste to given the current situation. Were Cielle fully sentient and willing, well, that would be an entirely different story.

I procured whatever blankets I could find to bundle up the mistress and then turned my attention to my own dripping clothing. How unseemly. The cold bothered me nary, but I only slipped off my soaking coat frock to prevent more rivulets from besmirching the carpet. As I removed the last accoutrements of Professor Sinclair's disguise next to a bouquet on the nightstand, I heard a faint groan.

Cielle clutched her head, slowly coming to. Her lashes fluttered, and she glimpsed the tinted spectacles and face wax I had used to alter my features. She sat bolt upright, her mismatched eyes widening as though they had seen an apparition.

"S-sebastian, when did you—how did you...?"

"Shsh, do relax for the moment, young mistress." I gently pushed her back against a pillow, seeing flashes of shock and confusion flit through her mind. "You have just had a considerable dousing."

"What are you doing here?" she said hoarsely.

"I thought it would serve you better if I assumed a role as a professor. It is far easier to aid you in the investigation and keep watch over you when you inevitably landed yourself in the suds."

"Don't treat me like a child. I am sixteen years of age."

"Age matters not. Act like a child, be treated like one," I said matter-of-factly. "Following a criminal—much less, alone—in the dead of the night and then going fishing near a frozen bank, that too with poor visibility... really young mistress, whatever did you hope to accomplish with such impetuousness?"

Cielle curled her lip. "Do shut up, Sebastian. I am beginning to miss your absence." As the mistress processed the night's events, she pulled the blanket tighter around her shivering shoulders and stilled. Her eyes went wide. "I dropped it in the pond... The blue stoned ring—"

"Is right here," I supplied, retrieving it out of my pocket.

Relief washed over Cielle, and she fell back against the pillows. It was then she noticed her wet strands and goose pimpled skin. She spotted her wet cape dress and corset lying on the floor, and color rose to her cheek. The delightful flush only deepened when she peeked under the blankets to become aware of the translucent chemise clinging to her damp skin. Cielle snapped her head at me. " You..."

"Would you have preferred hypothermia instead?" I said coolly. Cielle fell silent. "I thought so... Goodness, you need not cower like a prude—I did not look, young mistress." I turned my back to provide her some privacy and began preparing a hot drink. "You'll find some dry provisions laid out behind the screen."

The bed springs creaked as she rolled out of the bed and slunk behind the oriental dressing screen. "It was Sullivan this time," came her quiet voice.

"That is quite unfortunate, young mistress." Despite only meeting the girl briefly, I knew that Cielle and her had some sort of meaningful acquaintanceship, though the mistress would never admit it. "I presume the cipherist has struck again and left another message?"

"Obviously," she murmured.

I heard the satisfying sound of wet garments fall to the floor and the rustling of fabric. As Cielle slipped into a nightgown, she recounted the details of Miss Sullivan's disappearance, including the theory that the girl was not coerced and simply left with the cipherist through the window.

I frowned as I stirred hot milk and honey into a teacup. "As I recall, the envelope that contained the half torn alchemy page mimics this queer behavior. Miss Elizabeth's handwriting on the envelope did not suggest a hint of duress, anxiousness, or coercion as well. In fact, it appeared that she had written the estate's address whilst possessing a calm state of mind."

"You're right," said Cielle. "We found no signs of struggles when we investigated the other missing girls' rooms earlier. Sebastian, I don't think any of those girls were forcibly abducted. I think... those girls just left with 7891011 12." She swallowed hard and emerged behind the screen. "Even Lizzie."

My brows furrowed. "How very peculiar."

"Peculiar doesn't even begin to cover it." Cielle plopped on the bed and stared into the ceiling, brows slanted in contemplation.

I handed her the warm teacup. She took it from me, her cold, unsteady fingers brushing mine, and whispered a barely audible, "thank you." Lashes cast downward, she sipped the warm milk, looking quite like the soaked kittens I snuck into the manor and fed during rainstorms. A pity that the young mistress loathed such lovely, unpredictable creatures— did she not see that she was the paragon of one?

"What?" Cielle caught me staring.

"Oh, nothing of importance." Dimly smiling, I retrieved a linen cloth from the armoire and began toweling off her wet hair.

"That's hardly necessary," she murmured.

"I must insist. I would hate to see you catch a cold, especially in the middle of a case."

As I squeezed the wet strands with the cloth, Cielle grew curiously quiet. She may have looked undisturbed on the surface, but on the inside, I could sense her bristling for distraction. A smile pulled at the corners of my lips, and I purposely let my finger get caught in her tangled tresses. Cielle flinched.

"Pardon me for saying, young mistress, but your hair looks like a tangled mop. If you will allow me..." I set the linen cloth atop the bed and used both hands to comb through Cielle's hair. "You'll have to forgive the impropriety as my gloves are indisposed for the moment." Cielle gave a noncommittal nod as I set to work in untangling her tresses. A strange sensation stole over my bare fingers as I ran them down the length of her strands. It was the first time I had handled Cielle without gloves, but if I was being perfectly honest, I found the direct touch thoroughly stimulating.

"What a stubborn bundle this is..." I pulled on a tangle with mild force. "I wonder, does it act just like its mistress? It simply refuses to listen to me."

"Oh, very amusing." She curled both hands on her lap as my bare hands raked through her hair. Cielle's breathing quickened, and a dusting of pink shaded her cheeks. Despite these subtle irregularities, she was trying her hardest to remain unbothered.

"Did you know what else I found in Sullivan's room?" she said, seeking diversion. "A mounted key set next the word 'zwolf', or German for twelve." She then explained how that related to the Twelve Keys described in the the alchemy book she discovered.

I removed my hands from her cerulean tresses, now straight and sleek. "Where is the book now, young mistress?"

"Right here." Cielle dropped to her hands and knees, raising her pert derriere a little longer than necessary. Under different circumstances, I might've enjoyed the pretty curve of her svelte body. Instead, I frowned as the mistress retrieve an archaic looking tome from under the bed.

She rose and deposited it into my hands. I paused at the latinized name written on the cover. "Ah, so this is what you referred to our previous exchange. Baselius Phantomhivus..." Intrigue flickered through me. The fact that the cipherist sent Cielle on a goose-hunt to find this alchemy book spoke volumes. I wagered that the author, Basel Phantomhive, was a direct descendant of Cielle's. "I presume you do not have much knowledge of your descendants prior to Lady Claudia Phantomhive?"

Cielle sighed. "I barely know about Claudia herself, only that she was my former predecessor's mother, and that she likely had a hand in Aunt Francis's sword-welding when she served as watch-dog… In any case, take this, Sebastian."

I collected Basel Phantomhive's alchemy book, anticipating some irksome request to follow. Of course, I wasn't disappointed.

"See if you can comb out any pertinent information relating to the case. I expect you to go through it line by line."

Line by line? My brow twitched. The book easily contained more than a thousand pages. Between preparing violin lessons, investigating the rival academy, playing nursemaid to Miss Diaz's beastly mutts, overseeing the manor, working on a little side project I was concealing from the mistress, and now this legwork, her soul better be worth it.

Masking my irritation, I forced a smile and bowed. "Consider it done, young mistress. Is that all?"

"Actually... there's one more thing." This time her voice had a curious hesitance to it. Cielle pursed her lips on the precipice of issuing some order. An order, that seemed, unrelated to the investigation judging from her reluctant demeanor. If that were the case, I was only too willing to coax it out of her.

"If there is anything my mistress requires," I said, a lilt tinging my tone, "I am all but ready to oblige her in any manner she desires."

As expected, Cielle coloured at my words. Her face tensed if she were dueling emotions she could not master or possibly even fully comprehend."It's nothing, just forget it." As I watched her stare into the floor as though it contained something interesting, I decided to opt for a more direct approach.

"Young mistress, would you care for a massage?"

"What the devil are you on about?"

"I only mean to relieve your tension. You deserve a modicum of respite after the recent ongoings," I cajoled. "Besides, I promised you in our last correspondence that I would indulge you beyond sweets. You desired my response in person, and here it is." I gave her a cheery smile.

Cielle narrowed her eyes, scrutinizing me. Then she huffed and propped her legs on the bed. "Fine, get on with it.

Truth be told, I had not expected her to give in to my suggestion that easily.

I rolled my shirt sleeves up and worked my hands into her skin, kneading like a cat. Cielle let out a shuddering breath, her muscles coiled and ripe with tension. "Your muscles feel stiff as a board, young mistress. They are positively begging for release..."

I felt her liquefy under my ministrations, her lips eliciting a soft sigh in response. "That actually feels nice, Sebastian."

"How forthcoming, young mistress." I worked my hands into her flesh, penetrating deeper whilst alternating between various pressures. When my fingers subtly grazed the inner fold of the nightgown, I heard a barely audible sound, something between a whimper and moan. Cielle blushed, realizing it had come from her.

"Do you... want to see the most recent cipher?" she said breathily.

If Cielle craved so for another distraction, I would humour her. Sooner or later she was bound to run out of these diversions and be forced to reckon with those feelings she refused to speak of.

"Of course, young mistress."

"This one," she murmured, leaning in to reach for a scrap in the nightstand drawer. The gesture forced me to disengage my hands, leaving me curiously bereft for a moment.

"I found it inside a history book."

'Itqz uz pagnf, euybxk xaaw fa ftq efmde.

Ur kag qhqd imzf fa eqq yq nqtuzp nmde.

U etmxx ymwq yk zqjf yahq cgufq eaaz.

Fux ftqz, xaaw gb mf ftq nqmgfurgx yaaz

– 7891011 12'

"Might I see it?" I asked.

Cielle handed me the cipher, but I shook my head. "I meant the history book."

"The book?" She gave me a quizzical look before pointing to her desk. "The cipher was placed inside a page, almost like a bookmark."

I opened to the page in question, which she had evidently folded. "My, how intriguing."

"What is?" said Cielle.

"This page speaks of Julius Caeser's conquests."

"Your point being?"

"Well, I am no history expert, but I recall from personal experience how Julius Caesar invented a secret code to thwart others from intercepting his military correspondence." Smirking, I reflected the distant memory. "He thought it was rather clever, but naturally, others were more so, resulting in his demise."

"Julius Caeser..." Cielle blinked, then shook her head. "I'm not even going to ask." She skimmed the lines over and over, regaining her usual calm, controlled breathing. "You realize practically everything left in our trail has been strangely centered around twelve? The very first was the telegram to the yard warning about the theft at Her Majesty's Jewel House. The clue found in the broken glass was dated the twelfth of December. Then came the time skip letter for which twelfth word spelled a message, then Zwolf or German for twelve. I'd be bloody surprised if twelve wasn't the key to solving this cipher."

"Indeed." I skimmed the lines and resumed massaging Cielle's shoulders while considering other methods of decryption. With vacillating fingers, Cielle swiped her hair to the front, providing me full access to the back of her neck. I obliged her silent entreaty when a thought possessed me.

"Young mistress, try shifting each letter down twelve spaces of the alphabet."

Cielle did as such, her breaths shallow, as I worked on her stiff muscles, and I watched the message unravel to:

"When in doubt, simply look to the stars.

If you ever wish to place me behind bars.

I shall make my next move quite soon.

Til then, look up to the beautiful moon.

– 7891011 12"

"What a juvenile poem," she murmured. "Our cipherist seems to be running out of creativity."

"I wonder where he'll make the next move?"

"I have a theory..." Cielle bit her lip as I found a knot. "It's a bit absurd really."

"Oh?"

"Sebastian, do you know the 12 days of christmas song?"

My hands paused, and I raised a brow. "That, I do." Wherever was she going with this?

"Excellent. I want you to sing it for me."

I stared. Cielle stared back, undeterred.

"I believe I have just spoken the Queen's English." Cielle's lips melted into an impish little smirk. Goodness, her high-handedness had no bounds. She could have very well requested me to merely recite the verses, but I suppose making me sing them would provide her a some sort of entertainment. My hands still on her, I felt a slight quiver of her shoulders as though she was suppressing laughter. Did she not realize how easily these hands could throttle her as well?

"Go on, Sebastian. Sing for me," she said, her smile decidedly feline. "But just the last verse. I couldn't bear to listen to you singing the whole thing."

Thank heavens for small miracles.

"Very well." If the mistress wanted a performance, oh, I would give her one. I took a deep breath and closed my eyes, affecting a dramatic touch I couldn't resist. "On the 12th day of Christmas my true love sent to me twelve drummers drumming, eleven pipers piping, ten lords a-leaping, nine ladies dancing, eight maids a-milking, seven swans a-swimming, six geese a-laying...five golden rings." My rich baritone voice soared and drew out the line before resuming. "Four calling birds, three french hens, two turtle doves... and a partridge in a pear tree." I concluded the verse with a free-flowing vibrato that belonged in an operetta.

Cielle stared at me, mouth agape.

"Has my rapturous performance rendered the young mistress speechless?"

She shook herself. "Don't flatter yourself. I was merely confirming something to myself." She ran a hand through her tresses. "I can't believe it."

I languidly massaged her shoulders. "Whenever you wish to enlighten me, young mistress..."

"The cipher is following the twelve days of christmas song, Sebastian. Think about the first girls to go missing — Arwen and Astoria. When we searched their rooms, we found a partridge ornament fallen from their christmas tree. It goes with the line from the song - a partridge in a pear tree. As for three French hens, I think that refers to Isabella Henrietta Delacourt. It is a particularly French name. Then comes four calling birds - which goes with the broken cuckoo clock pointing at 4'o clock we found at another girl's dorm. And the five golden rings—"

"Were Violet and Joanna's most precious momentos to each other," I finished. "Their matching golden rings." My fingers stilled for a moment. "Perhaps you have a point. I recall a broken phonograph in one of the girl's room, titled Wild Geese Descending on the Sandbank which fits nicely with six-geese a laying. Collectively, these coincidences are a touch odd."

"Hardly a coincidence. Once or twice is a coincidence, but something happening seven times is the work of an enemy."

"Was Miss Sullivan's disappearance connected to seven swans a swimming?"

"Must you sing it?" Cielle pinched the bridge of her nose. "I searched her room and found an unfinished book lying on the floor. In fact, I saw her choose that very book from the library myself - a German fairy tale from the collection of the Brothers Grimm. The Six Swans."

"And what about Miss Elizabeth?" I inquired. "She was the second disappearance, yet I fail to see how two turtle doves fits in."

"Maybe it has to do with the symbolism behind them." Cielle's voice grew unsteady and soft. "A turtle dove symbolizes affection, friendship, and love. Lizzie embodies all of those things more than anyone I know... she was the turtle dove." The mistress inhaled a deep breath, not letting her face betray her tumultuous emotions. "The culprit is clearly following this christmas song."

"In that case," I began, gently kneading the base of her neck, "I anticipate the culprit will attempt another abduction during the masquerade ball with the Eton boys for there would be ten lords a leaping."

"It could also go with nine ladies dancing. Which means ten lords a leaping could refer to something else entirely."

"Agreed, we cannot be certain. For now, let us concern ourselves with only the next line, and thereby the next disappearance. Eight maids a milking."

"I have no idea how the culprit will make that one come about," Cielle murmured.

"At least we've unraveled the pattern so we can be more vigilant from now."

My fingers grazed the back of her neck. Cielle shivered though I observed that the winter air had little to do with it. Whereas her skin had been cold before, it had now warmed, a delightful flush spreading over her. My fingers continued their descent, changing pace. This time, they moved from her neck, to her shoulders, and her back in languorous, sensual movements. A single order from her would cease this improper pampering, and yet the girl couldn't bring herself to give it. Cielle inhaled through her mouth, her breaths taking on a different timbre. Her emotions pervaded from her stronger than usual, and I was fully aware of the reason why. With the important details of the case exchanged, I realized we had a bit of time for other matters.

Her calm exterior had melted into disquietude, and I sensed a restless sea of emotions within her. Pressing deeper into her pebbled skin, I drew closer. "I must confess I have never seen you so affected in an investigation."

Cielle shivered, a moment of hesitation before answering. "Lately, I feel like I'm losing control."

"Are you referring to the case or something else?"

"Both..."

"Oh? Then what is the something else you speak of?"

"I'd rather not say."

I chuckled, my deft hands traveling down her spine, and I vaguely picked up on some illicit stirrings that crept into her inner consciousness. "What if you were to lose control for a moment? Would that truly be so egregious?"

"I don't know," she murmured. "But I recently read a story where that is the case. "

"And what story might that be?"

"One that you're well familiar with," she said, her acrid tone casting judgment.

"Ah, you speak of Carmilla."

"Unfortunately. Imagine if Laura lost control of her senses altogether and fell prey to Carmilla's vampiric charms. It would've been the end of her." Cielle held my gaze steadily. "A single costly mistake for one to lose their control."

"But one can argue that Laura had already succumbed to Carmilla's charms, and it certainly was not the end of her—rather the opposite I daresay." My breath ghosted the hair on her neck. "Laura's loss of control made her able to discover her shadow self for the first time—a hidden part of her that always was. Carmilla merely served as a gateway for Laura to discover her repressed nature, introducing her to the liberating exchange of female sexuality."

Cielle curled her mouth in distaste. "Of course, you'd spin the story to your suiting."

My lips tugged at her discomfiture.

"What are you smiling about, you slippery demon?"

"I am merely looking forward to the young mistress's performance piece of Carmilla during our violin lessons."

"Tch."

I applied more pressure, my thumbs moving in a slow, circular rhythm. When my lacquered-like fingernails grazed her skin, a strangled moan escaped Cielle. How I desired to hear a litany of that beatific sound. Cielle grew heavy-lidded, turning the side of her head, and I could see her pupils fully dilated, betraying her dissolute thoughts.

"May I speak plainly, young mistress?" Cielle managed a small nod. "Repressing something only fuels it further, for the more you seek to control something, the more it controls you."

"So you're implying it is best to rid myself of my control." Cielle barked a a sarcastic laugh. "I'm not even sure how to do that."

"I could show you," I whispered against her prickled skin.

"How?"

I retracted my fingers. "Do you trust me, young mistress?"

"Is that a trick question?"

I lowered my lids. "Young mistress."

Cielle gave me a penetrating gaze, eyes roaming from head to toe. After several moments, she acquiesced. "Fine, I trust you."

"Excellent." She watched me pick up a lit beeswax candle and perch myself on the edge of the four poster.

The girl scrutinized me with suspicion. "What do you intend to do with that?"

"Telling you would defeat the whole point of this exercise. For once, you do not have to be in control, just relax." I spoke in a lulling manner. "Should you wish me to stop anytime, you only need to say so."

This was how it had always been between us — pushing the limits of her boundaries without entirely crossing them. I tilted the candle slowly, ever so slowly, and with widened eyes, Cielle watched the drop of wax fall. She swore under her breath, hands bunching the sheets. I massaged the hot wax into her skin as a sheen of sweat formed long her cupid's bow. "Shall I continue?"

Cielle bit the hollows of her cheeks, fighting back the word that came out of her mouth. "Please…"

"So polite of you, mistress." I chuckled and rewarded Cielle with another tip of the candle. She bit back a moan and pushed the sleeves of her nightdress lower, revealing her bare shoulders. Her skin bloomed pink, the wax dripping along her collarbone and shoulder blades.

"Did you know a wax massage is a form of thermotherapy?" I kneaded her slick skin, my hands hot and spread wide. Cielle closed her eyes, her fingertips digging deep into the linens. "They say this increases blood flow throughout the entire body." My warm breath stirred wisps of hair along her neck. "Your essence grows lovelier by the moment, young mistress." The words slipped out before I could stop them.

"Essence?" she said, half dazed.

"Think nothing of it," I murmured against her skin and tipped the candle once more. She hissed again, this time her hand reaching for my hair. Her essence flooded me, stronger and intoxicating than ever before. My eyes flared, and I felt hellfire within the orbs. My grip on her waist tightened, my hand burning with the mark of our infernal contract. Though her lips gave no verbal order, Cielle's contracted eye blazed at me, lit with secret desire.

The moment stretched between us, and the air in the space stilled, holding its breath. It seemed as though Chronos had willed time itself to slow and bestow a moment of kairos upon us. Moonlight spilled forth its silver light through the window, glinting on Cielle's flushed lips and smoldering eyes. The moonflower within the bouquet had unfurled, wafting its heady aromatic scent to intoxicating effect. It was as though the universe had conspired to create an opportune atmosphere for what was to occur next.

Cielle neared closer still, and the night seemed full of her. "What's happening, Sebastian?" she whispered, her breath on my cheek.

My lips traced the outline of her parting mouth. "Let us not overanalyze it, young mistress..."

Very slowly, our lips met. I kissed her gently at first until Cielle threw her hands around my neck. Gentleness, I reasoned was not what she wanted, especially after simmering in the soup of her latent desires for so long. With a swift gradation of intensity, I deepened the kiss, sliding my tongue between her readily accepting lips. Her essence had never been so nearly as potent as it was now. It felt as though her soul was opening up to me, ripening. I could taste her lust, her primal desires, her urgency and longing, all of which had transcended the flavour of her soul to a new tantalizing height. How I devoured that hot, eager mouth, my tongue grazing her own. Despite lacking experience, Cielle reciprocated with equal fervour. So urgent and wanting was her tongue that it writhed like a sea creature into my mouth. I swallowed her delicious moans and every sensation she was experiencing. More...I desired more of this.

Occupied as she was, she did not notice as I dipped the candle once again. Caught off guard, she cried aloud and dug her fingernails into my back. The hot wax trailed like molasses down her flushed neck. Unable to resist, I neared closer and flicked my tongue, lapping at the substance before it had a chance to sully her nightgown.

Cielle covered her mouth with a hand. "This is, ah... so wrong, Sebastian."

"The best things often are," I murmured and licked the patch of skin, relishing in the sweet ambrosia of her depravation tainting her within. I traced my tongue along her neck, craving to taste more of her. If this alone could drive stir my ravenous hunger...I shivered, imagining what consuming her soul would do to me. All the souls I had devoured in the past would be drops in the ocean compared to this tsunami of a girl.

A panting mess, Cielle gripped fists of my hair in both hands. Upward they tugged, bringing me to meet her desirous gaze. I slid a finger along her jaw, and she shivered. "Do you wish for more of this, young mistress?"

"Yes," she breathed.

I was only too willing to be the wind that fueled the fire. I drew her in for another searing kiss whilst my deft fingers trailed her legs under the nightgown, the underside of her knees and upward until I reached the fabric covering her thighs. Urging me to continue, Cielle threw her head back in a moan, no longer feeling the need to stifle her reactions. My fingers caressed, teased, tempted, but never beyond that. If the mistress wanted to be thoroughly corrupted, I wanted it to come from her volition alone.

"You're terrible, Sebastian," Cielle said, panting.

"Then show me how you like to be touched," I whispered.

I allowed her some semblance of control she guided my hand along her drawers. The mistress was on the cusp of giving in completely... so, so very close to falling off the edge.

Or... was that I?

Reveling in the taste of her lips against mine, I felt my own control slip away, my canines and jet black nails elongating without my accord. Cielle did not notice these abnormalities. She knotted her fingers into my silky black strands as I followed a trail fervid kisses to her décolletage. A wave of desire crashed over me, greedy for the taste of her body, her soul, her. I bite down like Carmilla. Cielle cried out, her face strained in pleasure, and I sensed her release building within. My fingers traveled to the centre of her drawer, inching to the delicious slit at the seam.

A deafening rumble of thunder crackled.

Lightening ripped the skies into two, whitewashing the walls and illuminating my reflection in the window. I froze at the ghastly sight. My true form had blended in with my human guise. The face was a cross between a monster and human, that which even the phantom of the opera would shudder; the face contained countless eyes rolling in place, slitted, hellfire burning in each of them; my fangs protruded from my lips in a sinister fashion; black tendrils and an inky, oozing substance blended into my robes. This hybrid half-human, half-demon creature that stared back was grotesque, repulsive, and disturbing even to someone such as myself. The image lasted mere seconds, disappearing with the flicker of lightening.

I licked the shortening fangs concealed by my lips. It took great restraint to tap down my feral passions and force my body to calm. What on earth was happening here? Never had I encountered such a happening in my previous contracts.

"Sebastian, are you all right?" Cielle had squeezed her eyes against the flash of lightening, but she now looked at me, wide-eyed under knit brows.

With a startling realization, I grew aware of my physical manifestations of desire that my human form had betrayed. I found myself breathing hard, face tensed, composure rattled, trousers tight in the front... How unsightly. But I was far more concerned of the slip of the mask that I had worked so carefully to construct over the years. Suddenly, I realized both Cielle and I were losing control in our own way. Like two sides of the same coin.

I simply could not afford another slip like this.

"Sebastian?"

My lips pursed. Damnation. I could not tell lies. As much as I wanted to reply 'I am fine, young mistress', that would have been spurious. Truthfully, I was anything but, however, the mistress could not know of this. Instead I diverted her question and in the most composed voice I could muster spoke. "Forgive my indiscretion, young mistress, but I fear I must take my leave. There are still a few errands to attend to at the manor." I turned around, eager to leave her presence when I felt a tug on my sleeve.

With much chagrin, Cielle spoke. "Must you go?"

"I have indulged you plenty already tonight."

"I know but...a lot has happened today, and the thunder—" She flinched as the skies crackled once more. "Please... stay here, Sebastian, until I fall asleep."

"I thought you had outgrown this, young mistress."

"Just for tonight."

I did not want to be in her presence, especially in such a volatile state, but I could not refuse her without arising suspicion.

I practically had to choke out the words. "As you wish."

Cielle nestled under the blanket, and left a measurable space beside her that I was clearly meant to occupy. Reluctantly, I sat down. It was now my turn to look for a distraction. I glimpsed a bouquet of fresh flowers on a desk and attempted to change the subject. "Did you receive those from a secret admirer perhaps?"

"Why, does it bother you?" Cielle said in a sleepy, smug voice.

I frowned. The question she posed did not bother me as much as the answer to it.

"Why ever should it bother me?" Miss Greyling's advances flitted through my mind. The way her long fingers lingered over Cielle's in violin lessons, the way she eyed Cielle with hunger...the way I intercepted each of those interactions. Oh dear.

I cleared my throat. "As your butler, your romantic affairs are none of my concern. You may conduct yourself as you please."

Cielle frowned at my response. "Well, it wasn't from a secret admirer. The cipherist left the bouquet. It contained twelve flowers that corresponded to birth months, and a moonflower at the heart of the bouquet, aka the 'Devil's Weed.'"

"Well, that certainly is foreboding." I said, thankful for a new topic of discussion. "A pity someone would use 'Devil's Weed' for nefarious purposes. Its lush blooms emit the headiest of fragrances. Whether the moonflower is angel or devil depends on whether one craves its beauty or its bane."

Cielle considered my words, half-asleep. "What if one craves both?"

Frowning, I did not answer. A peal of thunder shook the night skies, and Cielle winced, involuntarily squeezed her eyes.

"Turn your head against the pillow, mistress," I said. "It will muffle the sound. As for the other side..." I leaned toward her. "If I may?"

She nodded, permitting me to cover her exposed ear with my hand.

"You'll still hear it I'm afraid, but it will be better than nothing." Another bolt of lightning tore through the skies and stripped the room of color. I counted the seconds between the lightning and thunder while stroking her hair. The gesture may have been unnecessary, but I reasoned this would lull her to sleep faster, thus allowing me to take my exit. I counted the seconds again and repeated. Cielle found this calming for her eyes lowered. "The storm is drifting farther away from us, young mistress."

"Good," she whispered. I brushed the strands of hair away from her forehead, and the mistress inhaled a deep breath. I stroked her hair, this time my hand buried in the depths of long, cerulean tresses. One would deem such actions as tender, quite uncharacteristic of my nature. I could not understand my actions. Why did I have a consuming urge to console her in every capacity I could at that moment and yet simultaneously wish with every fibre of being to wrench away from her?

The storm must have drifted miles away by now. Cielle had closed her eyes, her chest slowly rising and falling. Since it would no longer cause an interference, I retracted my hand, about to rise. "Good night, young mistress."

"I'm not asleep yet," she whispered, her hand shooting out for my sleeve. "You said you would stay here until I did."

"So I did." I covered her hand with my own until our fingers entwined. I frowned. What had possessed me to partake in this strange intimate exchange?

Her breathing slowed, and before long she fell into a sound slumber. I disengaged my fingers from hers and rose, letting my hands fall, empty, to my sides. I could not recall the last time I experienced such vexation. In encouraging the mistress's deviant impulses, I had made a significant miscalculation. I had only sought to toy with her and enrich the flavour of her soul, but I did not anticipate that in the process I would rouse myself to such fervour that it would compromise my impeccable aesthetics and shake my composure to the core. My aesthetics were something I would not, could not, afford to lose.

I suppose the mistress was blissfully unaware of it all. Being in her presence was becoming nearly unbearable at times. I knew damn well that I was walking a dangerous line between this current form known as "Sebastian" and my true demonic nature. If the latter ever overtook me... no, I would not even consider it. I had prided myself on my control; even when I unleashed the beast underneath, it had always been of my accord.

My shadow swept over Cielle's diminutive form. She stirred in her sleep, undoubtedly restless from the day's events. Even in her slumbering form, her essence emanated profoundly. I leaned down until Cielle's breath ghosted my face. I drew in a deep breath and held it, savoring her essence. Just for a moment, I told myself and then I would nip this in the bud. I leaned against her collar bone. My tongue caressed my lengthening fang, positioned over her jugular like a creature of the night.

It was not till Cielle whispered my unholy name in her sleep that I came to my senses. I tore myself away from her and fled into the darkness of the night.

Author's Note: Well, that was a more loaded chapter lol. Let me know what you think of the mystery elements and romantic subplot. I had to up the rating from this chapter onwards. Thanks for sticking with me till now! I've been very deliberate for this story to be a slow burn, and now -after nearly 230 book pages later (can you believe that?)- the dynamic between Sebastian and Cielle is quickly intensifying. There will be a "certain scene" coming up, but I plan to do it tastefully, so I doubt I'll be pushing the rating to 'explicit.' It'll likely be kept to 'mature.' We'll see.

One of my new years resolution is to finish up this story, so I hope I'll be able to stick with that goal. If I'm not updating in a timely fashion, feel free to hound me until I do. In fact, I beg of you. Seriously. I really, really, want to finish their story beautifully, and the occasional check-ins have always helped me not to completely fall off the writing train. Thank you so much for that! It truly means a lot.

HAPPY NEW YEAR! Here's to a great writing and reading year xoxo