Claude roamed the halls of the dimly lit mansion. A foreboding had been placed over his head and he knew it heavily involved their newest guest. He could smell him. Even though the boy had been cleaned and scrubbed he still smelled vaguely of blood and sex. It seemed to pollute his dear mistress, her scent becoming impure in all the ways he had not desired. Claude could hardly stand it.

He walked right passed the guest room in which the boy resided and followed the lingering scent to his Mistress's room. Yes, the scent led here. His presence seemed to leak through the cracks of the door, and Claude felt his chest surge. An unfamiliar feeling had wedged into his chest, his gloved fingers clenching. It confused him, but felt strangely normal. That child made his cold blood boil. His soul smelt foul in every way imaginable, and it made Claude want to rip out his small heart, just to end the torture his nose was being put through. Utterly revolting.

He eased open the door and it creaked gently on its hinges. He slipped through. The sun was just beginning to rise, he could see at the window. He had plenty of time to remove the blemish and then proceed with breakfast.

Claude approached the bed, seeing his mistress strewn lazily on the sheets. He spotted the second blonde, curled into a tight ball with a peaceful gaze on his face that his mistress would've described as "adorable."

It was clear the Mistress held him in high regard.

Claude resisted the urge to curl his lip, keeping his face straight with the exception of a twitching eyebrow. She was human, or course, but he found it pointless for her to develop feelings when she would never be able to spend her life with him. The rest of her life belonged to him. Not to some silly human boy.

There was not any reason to worry, though. She was his, no matter what she felt towards another. They were bound together for eternity, unless he found her boring and decided to get rid of her. He had planned to use her as a play thing for a long time. A torturously long time, to a point where she would beg for death. But her soul became riper and riper every day, even if the majority of it wasn't even with her. Her soul was special, and his mouth watered every time he got close enough to her, but that was all the more reason to preserve it. He'd have to cross that bridge when he came to it.

But, that was only after Claude's part of the contract was fulfilled.

Claude gently placed the glowing candelabra he held onto the nightstand. He gently prodded the figure under the blankets and it sighed, stirred, and began to sit up. Jim Macken lazily looked over to Claude, and jumped, startled by how close the butler's disapproving face was to his. He gasped, ready to scream in bewilderment, until he saw Claude's face gently tilt to the side, his forefinger resting gently on his lips.

The butler looked startlingly frightening in the candlelight, Jim noticed. And as he spoke, his words were liquid gold. "You don't want to startle the Mistress, now do you?"

On his knees, still in partial shock, Jim shook his head frantically.

"Then I suggest I escort you back to your bedroom before she awakens."

Jim didn't understand. Would he frighten Elizabeth if he were in her bed when she awoke? But…she had invited him. She had allowed him to. But Jim was too afraid to deny the butler's request. His shockingly golden eyes glowered at him. Was he angry at him? Had he wronged Elizabeth somehow…?

Sniffling gently, a bit hurt, Jim nodded and crawled from the bed. The butler took the candelabra from the dresser and stood straight, threateningly looming over Jim. Jim looked down at his bare feet. He felt ashamed. Why would he intrude on Elizabeth like this? She probably wouldn't even speak to him during the day.

The butler, Claude, turned and began to leave the room, Jim following in his wake. His bedroom wasn't very far, and it had been easy enough to remember where Elizabeth's bedroom was when she had taken him on a tour. It was very close to Jim's.

The golden-eyed butler approached the door, opened it, and gestured for Jim to go in. Jim did, and Claude followed. Jim rushed to his bed and crawled under the blankets. Claude approached his bedside and set the candelabra on the dresser. The young boy watched as his lips formed and he blew gently on the wicks and they were extinguished in a wisp of smoke. Jim could see nothing, but heard whispered in the darkness…

"Goodnight, sir."

The light fell on Elizabeth's face in delicate licks of heat, and she moaned tiredly before turning to face the morning sun. She sighed as heard her bedroom door open and strange air flowed into the room. She quickly let go of the enticing thought of getting a few more moments of sleep.

Claude pushed the silver cart into the room, and the rattle of its wheels irritated Elizabeth to no end. She sat up, rubbing her right eye.

"Good morning, Mistress."

Suddenly, a startled gasp escaped her lips, quiet but noticeable, and she turned to her side to see the sheets tangled and messy, but there was no one in them. She breathed a sigh of relief. That would have been a pain to explain…

Elizabeth froze. She didn't have to explain anything. She was the head of this household. It was nobody's business what she did. Surely Claude would've had the decency not to even question having another in her bed. He was her butler. He was lower than her.

But she still didn't want him to think would whore herself to a boy she had only properly met yesterday. The thought somewhat sickened her. She could imagine Claude's disapproving face.

"The boy left earlier."

Startled, Elizabeth turned to her butler. "Claude?"

The tall demon poured the tea into her cup and walked to her bedside. He handed the steaming cup to her and she took it gently, sipping at it. Claude watched her intently, his nose wrinkling slightly.

Elizabeth, in a morning mood, glowered, "What was that face for?" she mumbled, bringing her tea to her lips and closing her eyes to fend off the steam.

"Mistress, would you mind taking a bath?"

Elizabeth opened her eyes, pulled the cup of tea away from her face. She looked toward him, partly shocked that he had the nerve to say such a thing to her and partly enraged that he did. And, though she would never admit it, she was a bit hurt.

"How dare you—" she broke off, continuing a different way. "I do not smell—"

"You smell of him, My Lady. And his scent is not very appealing…"

"Then give him a bath—"

"You cannot bathe a soul, Mistress."

She opened her mouth, ready to retort, but her voice died in the back of her throat. "His soul…?"

Claude nodded, placing the tea kettle onto the tray and taking the china cup from her hands. She watched his face, ready for an explanation.

"I'm afraid his soul doesn't have the most delectable scent. Some are simply born with bad souls."

"His soul is not bad."

She was clearly taking this as a smear against his personality, and this had nothing to do with it. Well, Claude did admit, his smell wasn't the only problem he had with the boy. He didn't like the way he had squirmed his way so easily into her favor, although, he knew it was easy to slip into his Mistress' favor. He didn't like the proximity he had maintained to her since arriving.

But mostly, the demon hated how easily his temper was lost when he saw the boy. I'm hungry, Claude concluded. I want my prey now, and I don't want anyone getting in the way, he told himself. This boy is a threat.

And though Claude Faustus despised it, he had to come to terms with his demonic instincts and work with them. Holding back and restraining his instincts would only make them grow tenfold. So he admitted it to himself, and it seemed to help calm them a bit.

But a thread tugged at him. What exactly did he hunger for? Her soul was certainly one thing, but when he had made this contract, he made it clear he wanted all of her—mind, body and soul. Her soul was not the only pure and innocent part of her—her body, for instance, was still pure and gentle in every way. It gave Claude great pride to know that only he had seen her bare and exposed, touched that soft innocence, other than those demonic humans from her childhood. And despite what she'd been through, much pain and suffering, her mind still remained pure and somewhat fragile on a certain degree.

And Claude found himself starving mentally and physically to run his hands over her gentle curves. And it surprised him greatly to even admit it to himself, but realized quickly that that may have been his subconscious motive the moment she became bound to him. And to delve into the recesses of her mind and fill it up with him to where she could think of nothing but him.

He could make Elizabeth Midford hunger for him the way he hungered for her.

"No, it isn't," he finally agreed with her. "But to a demon such as myself…it is revolting. Just like human food, souls have a texture and taste—a scent," Claude emphasized. "Jim Macken just happens to have one of those odd souls—the undesirable."

Elizabeth opened her mouth to retort sharply, but quickly shut it, knowing she couldn't argue with a demon in his own territory. "My tea, Claude."

He responded to her irritated tone by handing her her morning tea and when she had taken a gulp of the long cooled down drink, he took it from her again. Then he began to dress her, as he did every morning, but he found his eyes roaming over her more than once, and felt instinct kick in. Hardening his face, he fought it off.

After she was dressed properly, he led her to sit in front of her dresser where she stared into the mirror gently before moving her gaze to her clothed lap. Claude brushed through her curly blonde locks, enjoying the scent that fell off each strand. The atmosphere was serene and then she spoke gently, adding to the atmosphere.

"I suppose you heard the boy's story?" Claude felt somewhat lighter in the chest at the fact that she hadn't used his name.

"Yes, quite a tale." He finished softening her hair and began to pull it into ribbons at the sides of her head—her signature pig tails.

"We need to find that mansion he spoke of, with the basement. It sounded like it was just outside London. We know of the one I had resided—at the abandoned Midford mansion, but they've long gone from there. We can get them if we find them soon."

"I'm afraid there are many, many mansions—abandoned or not—outside London. It'd take a rather large amount of time to check every one of them."

"Then we'll go back to Midford Manor. Look for clues of their whereabouts there."

Claude nodded as he finished her hair and she placed her choker on her petite neck.

The butler opened his mouth, but she cut him short, "I'll ask, anyway, though I doubt Jim will know the exact destination of the place he was running from."

"Of course."

"Wake our guest, please. Tell him I must ask him something."

And Claude did exactly that, though he didn't do it in the way he had earlier in the night. He stood a respectable distance from his bed and handed him clothes to wear, and then said he'd be waiting outside. Jim didn't say anything, simply nodding frantically in reply and only seeming to calm down when the butler left.

Jim took a long breath, his heart slowing. He didn't know what it was about him, but that butler scared him. The unearthly golden eyes or the tall, stark shadow that he possessed. Maybe it was all of the above. And on top of that, the man clearly didn't enjoy his company at the manor. He wondered helplessly what he had done to get on his bad side, but the answer was one that should have come quicker. He had been in bed with the mistress of the mansion, and though she had not been wed or engaged, she was still young—they both were. Was it a reputation thing among nobles? Would people know of the incident within days of it happened? Had he been in a scandal? Oh—had he created one? A young, innocent girl being of a part of such a lecherous and scandalous event seemed to scare him. It was his entire fault! He had just wanted to sleep with someone he could trust…it hadn't been any more, but this wasn't what he had wanted at all. He had to help her—

And so, Jim Macken had inadvertently managed to trick himself into thinking that he had ruined Lady Elizabeth's reputation as a noble and therefore did not disserve her kindness and hospitableness.

He made a small whine, tears building in his large, stricken eyes as he threw the blankets from his body and crawled from the bed. He streaked out into the hall and ran the small distance to Elizabeth's bedroom and he pulled open the door without giving it another thought. "Lizzy, I'm so sor—"

And it was then that he realized he had made yet another horrible mistake. His eyes met her bright, startled ones and Claude had turned to look at him too. But it wasn't just simply because of his sudden break of the silence.

Lady Elizabeth did not seem to be fully dressed.

And he stared at her for what seemed like a millennia. He noticed the pale, soft skin which he had enjoyed grazing gently when he got the slightest chance. But the majority was exposed of her back, and he could see her delicate neck slip into her feminine shoulders, but he also noticed muscle in her shoulders, and it made him swallow the hard lump in his throat. He noticed her waist, small and petite, but anything lower was covered by a large black leg. The butler had moved in, his large leg covering the mistress from anything lower than the back. Frozen, Jim looked toward the large man and a whimper was let loose of his throat.

He slammed his eyes shut, covering his face with his arms. "I'm sorry! I'm sorry! I'm sorry! I'm sorry! I'm sorry!" And then he blindly turned to the door and fled downstairs. First, I sleep with her and then I stare at her as she dresses? She's going to despise me so much…

Elizabeth coughed a bit, forcing herself to breath. Claude looked back at her. "I apologize for forgetting to take off your bandaging when you first got dressed."

She sighed, shaking her head. Elizabeth waited until he had pulled her dress back from the pool at her ankles and then tightened the corset around the waist that Jim's eyes had stolen a glimpse of.

Claude bundled the used bandages and threw them in the waste bin. "Now, ready for breakfast, Miss?"

Elizabeth said nothing as he led her out.

Jim was already down there and when she approached the dining table. A battle raged in his head for a split second, whether to say something or nothing, and the latter won. He jumped to his feet, stumbling as he caught his chair from falling behind him and then turned to look at her. She looked surprised at the way he had jumped up, and he couldn't look at her as he said this, not wanting to see her upcoming look of disgust, so he lowered his head.

"L-Lizzy! I'm so sorry… I just wanted to apologize so badly about coming to your room in the night so I didn't think… I just went in…"

Elizabeth shook her head. "You don't have to worry yourself. Nothing was seen besides a bit of skin."

"B-But…"

"Mr. Macken, please calm down. No harm done, but…please be sure to knock…"

"Y-Yes! I will!"

Elizabeth smiled reassuringly, and then sat down for breakfast. The meal was large, filling, and Elizabeth had more to spare, whereas her guest seemed to be eating a lifetime's worth. The boy had the appetite of a bear—a really cute bear at that.

Elizabeth decided now was the best time to tell him the schedule and ask him the most important question. "Jim."

"Y-yes?" The boy looked up from his food.

Elizabeth sighed, standing from her seat. Jim tensed—had he done something wrong again? What was it? His face entered a brief moment of panic as she neared him—he didn't even notice the cloth napkin in her hand.

He didn't shy away from her touch, but he was too afraid to lean into it, too. He simply froze as she reached toward him, grabbed his chin, and used the napkin to dab away some food from his face. He laughed nervously, and she smiled gently in reply before pulling away, checking for more food before setting the napkin down.

"Jim, we will be leaving the manor today. We are looking for the whereabouts of the child prostitution and religious sacrificial business. We fear it might be hiding behind a larger one—maybe of trade with India."

Jim blinked owlishly, and she knew he hadn't understood a word.

"Those people…they have a history," Elizabeth looked into his eyes, and he gasped in a breath. "I once knew them personally."

Jim looked horrified.

"I may know who it is, but he has no name as of now. Tell me. Do you remember where you were held?"

Jim whimpered, looking down to his plate. "No…I'm so sorry, Lizzy."

Elizabeth nodded in understanding. She smiled gently. Jim melted inside.

"We will be leaving very soon, okay?"

She was gone before Jim could even gain the courage to ask the destination.

The carriage ride was long and quiet. It was sprinkling lightly but seemed to only gain determination as they approached the destination. Jim had fallen asleep against the carriage wall.

Claude pulled the horses to a stop and they grumbled from the long ride, snorting. He approached the door and opened it, helping his mistress to the ground. He looked in, seeing the boy ha passed out in the carriage.

"Leave him," Elizabeth said before it could be mentioned. Claude nodded and shut the door without a sound.

Slowly, they approached the gates of the mansion and watched as the cracking walls came into view. There was a large, intricate iron gate surrounding the complex, and vines curled protectively around the bars, paired up with the icky rust. They made a very stoppable team.

Claude stepped forward and jerked on the gates. They scraped against the dirt, pulling it up as it went. Elizabeth watch patiently as her butler pulled them open with his demonic strength.

Claude wiped his gloves together with several claps of his hands, letting the friction cause the dusty rust to fall from them.

Elizabeth passed him and slipped through the gates, approaching the dark house. She had not been here for years. She had never wanted to return, either, but she had no choice in the matter. She had to know.

"At least we know they have not returned here," Elizabeth reasoned. Claude gave his hum of approval as he followed her to the mansion doors.

Elizabeth felt her blood run cold as she reached for the handle. She could feel the hurt and painful memories pulsating behind the very walls, and it frightened her to no end. She used every ounce of her strength to will her hand forward and latch onto the cold metal. And when she twisted the knob…she found it locked.

Elizabeth quickly retracted her hand, breathing out a sigh of relief. She let Clade pass her and somehow, he unlocked the door. She saw no glint of a metal key. She decided not to ask how.

The mansion was in ruins. It looked far prettier on the outside, but with no housemaid to maintain the inside, it had become a wreck. It even looked a bit…unstable. The main room was large and empty and abandoned. Shafts of light illuminated the ballroom in an eerie blue glow. Lighting flashed, followed by the low rumbles of thunder, and the whole room lit up. The air was just as chilly as it was outside.

Claude passed her a lit candelabrum, which she lifted into the dimness. Here she was. The place she had avoided since her escape. Who would've thought a blonde boy would bring her back here.

Elizabeth shook rain droplets from her golden locks, and stepped toward the dark parlor.

And so their search began.

Jim woke with a start, a wet and icky sound pulling him from slumber. He wiped a bit of drool away with his sleeve and looked to his side. Claude was pulling away from the door and Elizabeth was coming in. A large leather, musty smelling trunk had been placed between them. She looked rather pleased as she took her seat and patted the trunk with a white gloved hand.

She didn't seem to acknowledge him right away so Jim cleared his throat before asking, "Um…What's that?"

Elizabeth followed his flitting looks toward the trunk and made a sound of remembrance. "Oh! This just has a bunch of my old clothes in it."

"O-Old clothes?" The carriage began to move with a jolt, and Jim looked to see the creepy old mansion that they were leaving behind. "You mean…"

"Yes, that's where I used to live."

"Oh…" Jim hesitated. "So you came here to get your old clothes?"

"No—we came here for information, but there wasn't anything to be collected. I figured we might as well not leave empty-handed."

Jim gave another "oh" and felt his neck heat up at her cheerful smile. He quickly looked to his lap. He wasn't very tired anymore; he'd had quite a long nap on the way. So he just sat out the terribly long ride. He didn't ask where the next destination was; frankly, he didn't care where it was, as long as he got to get out of carriage this time. He'd been in the mansion for what seemed a terribly long time, though truly it had only been a couple of days.

As the ride carried on, Jim watched the skies change. The rain had turned into a sprinkle and the clouds were starting to clear up. He could already see the sun trying to break out of the cloudy prison it had been in for a long while now. He felt a grin form. He couldn't wait to be under it.

And, soon enough, they were in London.

Sure, Jim had spent a few days here, but they had been frenzied—he was on the run. There had been a constant fear chewing at his back and he had been paranoid. But he felt safe now. Elizabeth, he felt, would protect him. He knew it. She had held him up this far. She had cared for this long…

London was energetic. People of all shapes, sizes…children playing near the piers. Small vendors and little shops—and big shops. Elegant women in gowns and pearl necklaces and men with bow ties and top hats. This was the world he had longed to see again for so long—a world full of life.

The carriage continued through. Though he hadn't seen it, Elizabeth was watching him intently; satisfied with the looks of amazement Jim was giving to the window. They soon got to a more vacant part of the city, and a two-story red bricked building. It had a shifty roof and there was a wooden sign hanging on a wooden post.

Annie's Home for Girls

The carriage pulled to the side of the road and Elizabeth stepped out excitedly, not willing to wait for Claude. Claude reached in and pulled the dirty leather trunk from the seats. Jim hurriedly slipped from his seat and out the other door. He moved in beside Elizabeth as she walked with a bounce in her step towards the doors. They may have been red, but the painting was faded. A dainty gloved hand moved and planted a firm few knocks on the door—it seemed to shake gently at the impact.

There was a dreadfully long pause. They were shouts and stomping footsteps and even more waiting. Jim fiddled his fingers, not daring to break the waiting silence.

A rather slim, middle-aged woman opened the door. Jim was startled by her crimson hair and matching eyes and attire. The woman wore an ankle-length red skirt, matching waistcoat, and a ruffled white blouse. She would have been rather beautiful, but she looked worn down by stress and age. Despite this, she carried a truthful and bright smile.

Her bob-cutted red hair moved in a blur as she reached for Elizabeth. The golden haired girl welcomed the woman into her arms. "Oh, I've missed you, Lizzy!"

"I've missed you, too, Madame Red," Elizabeth replied affectionately.

"It's Anne, Lizzy," Anne replied sternly, pinching the younger girl's cheek. Elizabeth laughed gently as she pushed the woman's hand away.

Anne turned her attention to the newcomer. Jim held his breath as her gaze swept over his attire and appearance before resting on his eyes. Jim had to look away.

"And," began Anne as she knelt in front of him (which she didn't really have to do; Jim was only about an inch shorter than her), "Who might this lovely gentleman be?"

"J-J-Jim…" he muttered. "M-Macken!" he quickly added, a bit louder.

Anne seemed pleased. "Well, Monsieur Macken," she straightened out and pushed the doors open wider, "Please come in."

They followed Anne into the orphanage. She led them through the parlor and into the dormitory, which was a long room on the second floor with fifteen beds. According to Anne, there were thirteen girls. Two had moved out to live on their own a few months ago.

Anne left them in the dormitory to go fetch the girls. Elizabeth sat down on a bed and Claude placed the leather trunk next to her. And so they waited.

The first two girls who entered were twins with red hair and freckled faces and upturned noses. One wore two braids whereas the other only wore one. They took sight of Elizabeth and smiles filled their faces as they rushed toward her. "Lizzy!" they cried as they wrapped their arms around her.

Elizabeth laughed as she wrapped them in her arms. "Shirley, Marvis," she greeted. "Just wait till you see what I've brought for you. You'll love it, I know."

Their already ecstatic expressions lifted ever so slightly. More girls came into the room, the majority of the younger ones leaping into Elizabeth's arms. The older ones were wary, trying to carry stoic expressions but failing when Elizabeth flashed them grins.

Elizabeth opened the truck and it seemed to explode with colorful dresses. The girls gasped, coming closer, and the blonde beckoned them near. She handed them dresses of every color and the orphans—even the older ones—could not contain their excitement. Some girls—much to Jim's discomfort-stripped on the spot. Others put the dresses on over their thin clothing. While Jim stood off in the corner awkwardly, Elizabeth helped the littlest ones change into their new dresses. Claude had bent down in front of one of the older girls and was sewing some pieces that needed to be tighter of looser so she could wear them in comfort; her arms were stretched out beside her as to not ruin his work.

"Oh, Annabelle, you look so lovely!" Elizabeth cried, picking up a little girl in a summery yellow dress and spinning her in the air. The girl screamed like mad and then giggled hysterically with Elizabeth.

"Lizzy made me a princess," Annabelle declared, before leaning forward and planting a kiss on her forehead.

Jim's heart melted.

Little did he know, Claude's—if he had a heart—was melting, too.

Jim had never met someone so down to earth and heartfelt and amazing and he was running out of words. Not only did he manage to be saved by a girl who nonchalantly took care of him and spent time with him, but she was kind to everyone. She was so wonderful it almost hurt.

Elizabeth laughed and kissed the girl in reply—multiple times, everywhere on her face, until Annabelle started pushing her away, still giggling like mad. The blonde put her down and began to fix everyone's dresses.

Jim's heart swelled twelve times its normal size. He was so happy. Never before had he been so happy. And Elizabeth was the cause of this happiness. She radiated warmth and safety and made him smile and Jim finally knew what it meant to feel content.


Elizabeth lie in bed, waiting.

She wondered if Jim would come in, but was losing hope as it was getting late and she wanted to be up when he did. She glanced back down at her book. She had tried reading earlier but her eyes had kept reading over the same line until she realized that she wasn't paying it any mind.

But before she could recede under the blankets, into the warmth that awaited her, she heard the door ease open. She quickly looked up…

And was startled to find that It was not whom she had expected.

Claude was standing before her bed, staring down at her with glinting eyes. Were…were they glowing? Elizabeth couldn't tell for sure.

"C-Claude? What is it?"

Elizabeth pulled her legs from the blankets and crawled toward him. His eyes widened, taking her in greedily. Poor, naïve little girl. Did she not see the crescent eyes of the hunter? Did she not see the lusty, hungry stature?

How could someone be so blind as to what was in front of them?

"Claude?" she asked quietly in that tired, beautiful voice that spoke of fantasy and faraway kingdoms.

And then he lunged quietly, animal-like, onto his selected prey. She finally understood his eyes. "Claude!" she whined fearfully, pushing at his chest. Her back pressed into the mattress, she couldn't move. He was on top of her. Her legs pinned by his. She flew into panic. "Claude, what are you—?" A soft whimper left her throat. She froze as his canines grew longer, that glow in his eyes becoming a shine.

"N-No!"

And so the demon feasted.


*evil laugh* Ha! Enjoy this little cliffy. You better.

This would've been out sooner but...

1. I was grounded. I'm not supposed to be on my computer (except for homework uses, but as long as my step dad doesn't know, I'm fine.)

2. I am now a freshman in high school. Thought I was older? I wouldn't be surprised. But anyway, the homework has piled up and I've had to work my butt off. :(

But here I am. Sorry for the wait.

Reviews give me boosts, so please share you love! (Or hate...you know, whatever.)