-As usual, thank you to all the people reading this fic. Hopefully there will be some more explanation for you. I apologize for the slow posting of these chapters I fell down a flight of stairs and sustained permanent nerve damage to my right arm. I appreciate the patience of my beta reader SMCandy and all of you who track my fic. I do not own Trinity Blood, people, use your brain. Enjoy!
Dawn was rising as William Wordsworth was shaken from his sleep by a loud rapping noise on his door. Sitting up, groggy as he had stayed up late that night working on yet another doomed to fail invention, he pulled on his dressing robe and shuffled to the door.
"What on earth do you need!?" he demanded before pausing and realizing just who it was he was speaking to. Instead of some insolent child or idiotic delivery man he found himself staring at Caterina in her full glory. Without so much as a hello she stepped into his modest room and office space and handed him a book which he took, confused.
"What on earth is going on!?" he demanded as he stared down at the thick tome he had been presented with. Placing it on his desk it fell open to a page written entirely in English and glanced over his shoulder at her. "What is this??"
"There's been a security breach, Walter," Caterina sighed, removing the slender gloves from her hands, "And I need your help with how to deal with it."
"Hmm??" reaching behind his desk he pulled out a pair of reading glasses and sat down in front of the book. Running his hand over the page, he frowned. "Why have you brought me a book chronicling demons??"
"We've captured one," she explained as she rotated her neck slowly to ease the tension. "At least, that's what I think happened."
"You think?? It's rare to find you for a loss of words or memory," William teased as he flicked through the pages occasionally grimacing. "This is really a nasty little book. Care to explain HOW you've found a demon?? Aren't they simply a monster under the bed type of creature?"
"We used to think the same thing of the Methuselah," she replied tersely as she seated herself into the only chair in the room, a studious leather thing with brass brads.
"Is there a reason why only one page is in English?"
"The creature we have in custody made it so," Caterina explained, waiting for the confused look to cross her friend's face. She was not disappointed as he paused and glanced at her perplexedly. "He placed a hand upon the page and the words changed themselves to English."
"…" There was hardly a response from William as he moved back to read the page, "So then, the creature you captured is the one on the page, correct?"
"Yes, that is what he claims, what does it say about him?"
Another pause passed before the refined gentleman cleared his throat.
"His true name is not listed here, but it is said that the name the early religions gave him was Mammon or Astaroth. A creature of avarice, greed and wrath. He is from the first Hierarchy of hell, a Prince," he explained calmly, "He is the inquisitor and the smartest of the Four Great Brothers. He devours the souls of the greedy and lazy."
Heavy silence filled the room before Caterina cleared her throat, glancing at William. Pulling the thin gloves off her hands she settled in for a long stay, knowing that they would have to talk the issue over. Groaning, William turned his chair to face the Duchess.
"What have you gotten yourself into this time??" he chided. Slowly, Caterina began to explain the events of the night, of the dead body of Ulysses, of the creature calling itself Delacroix and of the deal it offered. Once the story was done the two shared a dark stare. Crossing her arms over her chest, Caterina heaved a great sigh.
"The real problem we face is whether or not to accept this… monster," she sighed, rubbing her temples as she felt a headache start its insistent throb.
"Better the devil at your door than the one you don't know," William recanted as he turned back to the book. Knowing the question that would come in a second he spoke up again, "Perhaps it would be best to keep this devil for ourselves, so that we know who perpetrates his tricks. If we let this weapon be handed to our enemies, we only have our stupidity to blame when it strike us."
"…" There was a heavy sigh from Caterina ran a hand down her pale face. "I admit that the idea of letting something as dangerous as a…demon… find its way into our enemy's hands is terrifying. But there is little other alternative."
"So then you'd willingly bind someone to that monster?" William asked in a mock astonished tone. Already annoyed from lack of sleep, and her mood hardly improved from having to deal with Delacroix, Caterina snapped back at him.
"I don't like the idea any more than you but we hardly have a choice… out of curiosity… what would be the repercussions of signing one of our AX men up to Delacoix?"
"Well… that's where the book gets iffy. If you want me to put in layman's terms… it would 'results may vary'," he sighed. His shoulders slumped with a decided exhaustion as he closed the book and turned to face the Duchess. Deep in thought, she looked older than she was as wrinkles generated between her plucked brows and at the corners of her painted mouth.
"Result may vary?" she echoed and he nodded.
"It ranges from the person's body and soul being consumed to the person being eternally damned to walk the earth as a specter," he shrugged.
"So nothing too terrible?" she drawled sarcastically. With a large sigh her shoulders collapsed under the weight of her stress before she stood. "Get some rest. Tomorrow morning we will be deliberating what to do with the members present during the discovery of this… monster."
"You expect me to sleep after reading this?" he gave a well meaning laugh before nodding and giving her a small wave as he ambled back to his bed…
The world seemed heavier and grayer to Caterina as she slowly made her way back to her room. Though there were still enough hours in the day for at least a small rest, she knew the sun would arrive on the horizon faster than she would have liked. Slowly, she peeled off her gloves, then her bodice and her skirt. One by one she discarded her ornate outfit for the more sensible silk nightgown. Lying out on her bed she stared up at the velvet draped on the canopy.
Sleep didn't come to her, instead only unbidden thoughts. It would not be an easy task to ask one of her trusted men to take on the burden of such a creature as Delacroix but she had little other oprions. A small part of her wished to take him on herself but she knew that without her, the AX would stand little chance against her brother's machinations. Frustration grew and she sat up quickly, tossing one of her pillows across the room in a fit of frustration. Falling back onto the mattress, she closed her eyes, willing herself to a restless sleep.
Her dream played out like some horrible Faustian play. Every shadow seemed to hold Delacroix, his face reflecting at her with a nasty grin on his face. No matter where she turned he waited, a pen in one hand, a contract in the other. He whispered nasty little nothings and empty promises at every turn as he slowly climbed over her. Hot breath with the taint of sulfur washed over her and she tried to recoil but found herself pinned to the floor. Slowly she felt the searing heat as he ran a tongue up from her collarbones and along the tendons of her neck, the journey stopped at her ear. You will be mine… I will ravage your soul and break that spirit of yours… his voice rasps as she felt her skin flush and sweat. Pale lips parted to reveal vicious teeth and as they bore down on her chest… then she woke up, sitting straight and coated in a cold sweat. The morning sun was just beginning its blazing journey and despite the light it gave, it offered little solace to her. Sighing, she placed a hand over her heart and shook her head.
"Just a dream," she reminded herself, as she swung her legs over the bed. She would brief the men involved on the problem and then… they'd decide who would take on Delacroix. The thought followed her like a thick fog of dread as she moved to the bathroom. There was little time for contemplation as she bathed and dressed and by the time she was presentable again she had steeled her resolve. Though her hands trembled she opened the doors to her room confidently to find Tres waiting for her as usual. Giving him a nod of the head she cleared her throat and spoke with a voice as professional as ever.
"Tres, gather everybody who was present last night and William. We will need to discuss the situation that ocurred…" she paused, "… For that matter, fetch Delacroix. Have him wait outside while we discuss. I don't want him trying any trick on us."
There was a pause before Tres spoke, as though he was debating what to say next. "Affirmative."
Soon she found herself alone again. Though it was hardly unusual for her to be by herself, she found it a little more uneasy this time. By the time the Tres arrived with Abel and William she was finally calmed down from the amount of pacing she had done and was graciously seated on a chair, hands crossed her lap. There wasn't a smile on her face, a grim reminder of their situation.
"Close the door and take a seat, we need to deal with this problem as quickly as possible," she motioned at the small couch and chairs the surrounded her delicate tea table and two of the three men obliged. As usual Tres remained standing, probably a wise idea due to his weight and the fragile nature of the furniture. There was a cold silence in the room as the men waited for Caterina to speak and Caterina waited to gain the courage to say what she needed to say.
Meanwhile, as the tension mounted, Delacroix found himself waiting outside the room. One hand remained cuffed to the intricate lattice work below the chair and he mused on how much of a joke it was. Any other day he would have simply removed himself from the offending ring of steel but not this day. Part of him wished to be inside the room, listening to that glorious woman agonizing over the position he'd put her in... And as sexy as that might be, he knew it was not his place. No, he would be content to sit in his chair and watch as people passed by, ignoring him easily.
That was part of his charm. Nobody ever took a second look at him. He wasn't particularly good looking, or terrifying like two of his brothers, but he didn't have the ability to completely remove himself from people's sight like the youngest of his kin. Instead, he simply didn't call attention. If people cared to look close enough at him they'd see the sharp row of teeth and see the horns. But nobody looked close.
Pausing, he leaned back in his seat, his cuffed hand hanging down nonchalantly as he watched the crowds. Despite his hatred for the situation he'd be unsealed into he did have to admit, it was nice to be free. The ability to simply sit and people watch while awaiting your fate was something he'd missed without realizing it. It was strange to think that he'd gotten used to being stuck in a book.
"Excuse me?" a voice pulled at him, rending him from his introspective thoughts. Pausing, perplexed, he turned to face the speaker and was a bit taken aback from what he saw. It was a girl with a face he hadn't seen before running around the Vatican, and he would have remembered this one. Red hair so bright he thought he'd burn if he touched it and eyes the most contrary color of blue he had ever seen on a human. Her slight waif of a form was dressed in an AX nun's uniform and the hint of her petticoats from under the skirt made him wish to push the stiff fabric aside to the silk nylons underneath and rip his cuff from the chair to push her against a wall and just stare into those eyes, one hand on her thigh, the other tangled in her hair.
Instead, he simply smiled at her.
"Yes? What can I do for you?" he asked pleasantly, his voice belying the darker impulses inside his head. He'd really be sealed up for too long.
"I haven't seen you around here," she commented and he smiled. Her voice was stunning, achingly delicate and just like he'd imagined it. Slowly his grin spread across his face until he seems almost dumb by the expression.
"That would be because I'm new here, darling," he replied, voice settling into more honeyed tones. She gave a bright smile and took the seat next to him outside the Duchess's room.
"And you're sitting here all alone? That can't do," she crossed her ankles modestly and he longed to part them just as fast. Delicate ankles leading down to perfectly pristine heels with scalloped edges decorated in silver thread.
"Oh, I am waiting," he replied, "I won't be alone much longer." Delacroix glanced away to keep his eyes from roving on her any longer but when she spoke again he could tell she feels a little jilted by the hurt in her voice.
"Well, that's good I suppose," she said, her cheerful voice masked the fact that she suffered from the cold shoulder of the sickly man before her. She made as if to stand, hands planted firmly on the edges of her chair but she doesn't. Instead she sits there tense before Delacroix backtracked hastily.
"But! But I'd like to have some company while I wait," he admitted. She turned back to him and smiled.
"I'd be more than willing to oblige. I'm waiting for a friend, you see," she explained in a conspiratorial whisper, "He's in a meeting with the Duchess Caterina. Are you waiting to talk to her as well?"
"You could say that," Delacroix shrugged, accepting the excuse. Hidden from her sight by his body and the chair, his left hand dissolved into the shadows and the cuff around his wrist fell through. Once free the shadows took the shape of his hand once more and he reached over and gently folded his hands on his lap.
"Are you new to the Vatican?" she asked, keeping up the pleasant conversation as he stared ahead. The image of him ripping the pale stockings from her achingly milky skin was still burned in his vision but he remained quiet on that thought. A quick clearing of the throat readied him to speak without an embarrassing quiver in his voice.
"No, I have been here before many times when I was younger," he admitted. As silly as it might have seemed to people who knew of his devilish nature, he could not lie. A long standing fail safe against any true evil, it's hard to forcibly tempt someone without lies. Instead, they must be willing to head down the road to sin being fully able to understand what they are getting into. A stupid failsafe if you ask him. None-the-less, he learned to word himself carefully.
"Oh? What did you think of it when you were younger?" she asked pleasantly and he once more shrugged, now a bit apathetic. Last time he had been here, their nuns certainly didn't look like the divine apparition next to him.
"I was not here under the best circumstances," he admitted, then gave a small smile at his own inside joke, "Very much like how I am here now." This seems to shock the girl as she tries to validate his claim, or at least understand how somebody so… polite… could be under scrutiny of the Vatican. "Though I do admit, the sights have improved."
He meant the women of the Vatican, though she simply assumed that perhaps the halls were cleaner now, or the weather was better. One of her heels began to anxiously tap the marble flooring before she stood and held out a hand to him.
"I've been rather rude," she announced and cocked a slim eyebrow at her.
"Oh? You've been nothing but gracious to me this entire time," he replied but she shook her head and he watched her red hair sway with the movement and again his fingers ached to run through each individual fiery strand.
"I haven't even introduced myself! You must think I'm terrible!!"
He laughed at the sight of her, all flustered over something so trivial to him but she took his humour as an agreement that she had indeed been rude. Grasping the hem of her skirts she gave a small curtsy and he stood to bow. After those formalities were seen to she stood, brushed off the white fabric of her habit and smiled the most gloriously nice smile he'd seen in a long time. Of course, all he'd seen was the inside of a book's sealing dimension… and other demons. Hardly the best selection of smiles and teeth, if he was anything to judge on.
"My name is Sister Esther Blanchett." He smiled.
"Delacroix."
She paused, she waited, as though expecting something and then grew something impatient. He gave her a look that said "And…??" and she pounced on it.
"You're name just can't be Delacroix," she demanded, taking a step towards him and he stumbled back, acting effectively intimidated at her advances. "I told you my name, please tell me yours," she took yet another step forward and he tumbled back into the seat he was in only moments ago. He had to fight to keep the slow grin of spreading across his face as he shrugged, giving in.
"Alright already… my first name is Asmondeus," he said his true name easily, relishing in hearing it tumble from his lips and she paused, trying to figure out how to pronounce it or perhaps what it's origin was.
"Asmondeus-" She might have tried to say more but instantly the shadow from under Delacroix surged and rushed up from the ground, wrapping around his right wrist and more importantly… around her own slender wrist. Giving a cry of surprise, Delacroix was grateful that the traffic in the hallway had ceased, leaving them alone, and watched as she struggled to push the amorphous darkness off to no avail.
With a loud clang of metal he felt spikes enter his skin and he gave a small hiss, while Esther let loose a pained scream. Unlike him, he assumed, she was not used to having thorns tearing into her skin at all times. Settling to their intended form, the shadows became think silver cuffs like manacles, on their left wrists. Seeping from under the metal was Ether's blood. It dripped down her ivory skin to the marble below and he smiled.
The doors to Caterina's room slammed open in response to Ether's crying and the Duchess and the three men stood stark still before the scene. Kneeling over her injured wrist, Esther was sobbing in pain as blood dripped down and stained her dress crimson while Delacroix watched, an inky substance trickled down his own wrist. He paused and glanced to Caterina before smiling.
"You were taking so long…I claimed my own master," he explained with juxtaposed cheeriness, holding up his arm to show off the thick cuff embedded into his flesh, "Aren't you going to thank me?"
There was an immediate rush to remove Esther from his presence by Abel who held her protectively in his arms while Delacroix watched in amusement. He made to step forward to take her back but found the twin guns of Tres aimed at his head. Sighing, he crossed his arms.
"I see you don't approve. Regardless I've made my contract with her and if I don't get to her soon, her pain will only get worse," he explained calmly as he started down the barrels of the guns.
"Why is she in pain in the first place!? Why did you choose her??" the professor asked, frustrated and confused with the decision. Shifting his weight to his other foot, the demon simply cross his arms and sighed in a dramatic manner, looking more like a bored teenager weathering through a lecture than anything else.
"Because, dear professor, she was there. I have no interest in pure souls so you should be pleased," he answered in a dull tone, "Now let me tend to her before this situation gets out of control. After all, I have all the time in the world to spare… but does she?" he asked, holding up the wrist that contained the manacle and glanced at the inky fluid that began to twine down his arm and stain the white sleeve of his shirt. There was a pause before Caterina gave a nod.
"No! He's the one who caused this problem, he'll only make it worse," Abel debated, holding Esther closer to him.
"Really? Let me explain, right now that manacle is pouring out her life force, and her soul, to me," the demon pointed at the hand that Esther cradled and the blood that pooled out and stained the middle of her habit bright crimson. "It's my duty to seal it before things get out of hand. I must care for the life of my master now," he explained.
"Why should I believe you'd do something as foolish as give yourself in servitude to a human?" Abel bantered back but the demon just smiled.
"That's how it works, that's how it always works," Delacroix drawled, crossing his arms in a bored manner. If there was a wall nearby, he might have lounged against it. "I don't mean to forsake millennia of tradition just because I get bored of it. So let me tend to the girl."
A horrible silence passes, enjoyed only by Delacroix who was patiently waiting for the inevitable. Abel glanced between the monstrous man before him and Esther's whimpering form before bowing his head.
"So? Shall you lead me and the girl to the infirmary? No doubt she'll be exhausted after this whole ordeal and I would hate my contractor to sleep on the cold floor," the demon gave a sickly sweet smile before Abel stalked off to the medical ward.
"If you so much as harm her…" he threatens the man, eyes sharply glaring over the tips of his glasses and the demon only laughs.
"Why would I harm her?? My whole purpose is to CARE for her, tend to her every whim and every need until the day I take my price," Delacroix replied innocently as they walked through the large doorway of the medical ward. Nurses rushed to help attend to Esther but stopped dead at the expression between the two men, one side full of utter hatred, the other a casual indifference. The nurses slinked off back to their duties, still hovering in the area until the curtains were drawn around the pair.
"Do you mind?" The demon cast a rueful glance at Abel who simply stared him down.
"Yes. I do. Whatever you plan on doing you can do in front of me," he replied bluntly, arms crossed over his chest and his eyes lacking the usual bumbling, nice-guy expression he normally touted.
"Ah… of course…" Delacroix mumbled lightly to himself, rubbing his thin hands together and blowing onto the fingers as though they were chilled. Leaning closer to Esther he heard her give a low, pained groan before smiling and placing one hand onto her manacle, the other over her heart. Slowly he began to mutter in a language that can only be described as dark and no matter how hard Abel tried to listen to the words he couldn't pick out where one phrase ended and another began. The whole experience sounded inexplicably dark and soggy.
Then under the skeletal hands of the demon a dark blue light flashed and settled, leaving the metal on the manacle imbedded with a thick, scrolling design. A similar sigil appeared on Delacroix's own cuff and he gave a satisfied nod before taking an amiable seat next to the bed.
"What did you do?" Abel asked, though his voice indicated a lack of any curiosity, instead a fierce worry about the wellbeing of the girl. Sighing, Delacroix waved a hand through the air and gave a simpering smile.
"Finished my work. The bleeding has stopped, and so has the pain. In time your lovely darling will not even notice the thorns of the manacle," he replied, voice sickeningly innocent as he crossed his legs and proceeded to watch the girl. "Because you idiots felt the need to 'save' her there was more damage than expected, so she will not wake until later, after the shock has subsided."
"YOU are the one who put this shock on her! She didn't want this!!" Abel argued, his voice rising but all he received was a dull sigh.
"She asked for my name, my real name. That's all it takes."
Another heavy pause passed between the men and Abel's gaze fell upon the sleeping Esther. True to the demon's word, the bleeding had stopped and her manacled hand now fell to her side on the bed. Her expression no longer was filled with pain but the relief of sleep and it pained him to think that perhaps, just perhaps, his helping her had kept her from all of this. Then he remembered the consequences of making a contract and once more his expression hardened as he turned to the demon. It was infuriating, the infernal creature just sat there calmly like a relative awaiting a sick aunt's recovery.
"If you so much as harm her…" he threatened and the demon laughed in cold, mocking tones that hung dead in the air.
"You'll what? Take care of me like you take care of those silly vampires? I'd love to see you try.. no… I'd BEG to see you try."
The urge to punch the demon overwhelmed Abel for a second before he rationed it away. It would hardly serve to start a fight with Esther recovering nearby and he doubted the man would play fair. If worse came to worse he would bet that Delacroix would use Esther as tool to barter peace. Knowing that if he stayed longer he would have to fight the demon he left but cast one last look over his shoulder. "I'll be back first thing tomorrow. She had better be alright."
"Of course, now run little boy," Delacroix drawled, shooing him away with a curt wave of the hand and Abel stalked from the medical wing. He couldn't take the man down that night, but he vowed he would be the one to bring him down eventually. Even if it took everything he had. Esther didn't deserve to be shackled to such a monstrosity and he prayed that it wouldn't be long before she was free again.
"What a rude man…" Delacroix noted to himself as he watched the silver haired priest leave, "In my day none of the priests looked or acted as such," he noted to the unconscious Esther as he shook his head. The girl wouldn't wake easily but he was anything but impatient. Folding his hands on his lap he bowed his head as though in prayer and slowly he became deathly still. Though he feigned sleep his mind was anything but dormant but he found every though plagued with the nagging feeling that nobody feared him anymore. Nobody read the old texts, nobody cared and nobody cowered. He had to bind himself to a woman against her will all on a whim.
"…" There wasn't a sound in the room but Delacroix's eyes snapped open. Esther was awake. A glance at the clock let him know that it was late into the day now and the sun, which had previously hung low to the horizon, now was on the opposite end of the world. She didn't stir at first but then slowly she lifted a slender wrist to her forehead as though to cool it. He watched the cool silver light of dusk wash over her porcelain skin hungrily and his gaze made her nervous enough to glance about. Finally her bright blue eyes settled on him and he bowed his head politely.
"Are you feeling better?" he asked, his tone gracious and polite, soft spoken despite the darker thoughts that dwelled in his head.
"…" she didn't respond, her eyes fell to the manacle around his wrist and he glanced down before turning his gaze to hers.
"Yes. That happened. I am sorry you had to feel the pain I usually try and seal the contract before there is any lasting damage," he explained politely, pale eyes cast downward demurely. Try as he might to calm her, she slowly felt enraged and seized the first thing near her bed and threw it at him. The glass of water shattered on a wall of shadows and dripped down to the floor as the darkness lowered to reveal the wry smile on Delacroix's face.
"Is my master not pleased?" he asked his tone slowly sliding from civil to snide as the sneer worked its way at the corners of his mouth revealing the shark like teeth.
"NO. Your 'master' is NOT pleased!' she snapped at him reaching for the next thing to throw but found the night table's surface devoid of anything else. Running a hand over the wood as though pleading for another projectile she was surprised when she turned around to see the glass mended and holding some more water sitting next to her hand.
"Care to try again darling? I can do this all night if it pleases you."
She stared at the smug, delicate, sickly face and felt fury. Righteous fury, mind you, clawed its way up from her heart to her throat and finally out of her mouth in the form of a loud shriek. Lunging from her bed she was a figure of wrath with her skinny form and billowing medical gown. One finger just barely brushed past his nose before she felt her body stop in mid air as though caught by countless hands. Glancing around, she saw that from under her feet the shadows had reached up to wrap around her, holding her back still a foot off the ground. With a weary sigh Delacroix waved a hand and her arms were forced out by her sides leaving her mockery of the crucifix, a girl pinned in the air by shadows.
"Now now now…. We can't have this can we??" he teased her. "But you have such a wonderful spirit. Here I was thinking I had made a mistake not taking that Duchess of yours as my own but… there is such a fire in you!!"
"Let me GO!" she howled and he only laughed louder. "Abel will be coming to find me and when he does…" she threatened him, her gaze turning to a sour glare but his merriment only grew.
"He'll WHAT!? Little girl you are mine just as sure as you said my name. Why not ENJOY it! I can give you power, I can give you any man you desire. Just say the word and I'll make it true!" he waved a hand at her but her next words surprised him.
"I want you to disappear!" she spat and he paused and glanced at her in surprise. Then the restraints that had contained her disappeared as fast as they had arrived as was he. Just as Abel burst into the room he found her kneeling on the marble floors, rubbing her shackled wrist, alone. As the rush from the confrontation left her she found tears welling up in her eyes and her breath absent from her lungs. Frantic eyes glanced around the room, searching for Delacroix but it was empty now save for her and Abel.
"What happened?!" Abel asked, kneeling next to her as she leaned against him and sobbed softly into the black cloth of his jacket.
"…He's gone…" she whispered, relieved as he helped her to stand and led her to bed.
"Gone? Just like that?" he asked, scanning the room just as nervously as her and she nodded.
"I… I told him to disappear," Esther's voice was gaining strength as she sat on the bed, one hand held to her head as though she was fighting an epic headache. The manacle seemed achingly heavy and even though it was present at least the demon was not. Shivering as she slipped her legs between the sheets of the bed she gave Abel her best smile trying to convey strength and she was surprised to find just that welling up in her. She had MADE him disappear.
"That's all it took?" Abel asked, simultaneously incredulous, suspicious and impressed. Esther nodded as she leaned against the pillow and crossed her arms over her hips. Both let the silence fall between them, unsure of what to do.
"Will he come back?" she finally asked the question that had been gnawing at her since he had so quickly left. Unsure of how to respond Abel passed the time by fiddling with his glasses, endlessly polishing the lenses over and over. What could he tell her? That he wasn't sure? That the demon could be just biding his time until he devours her without warning? They possibilities ranged from wonderful to grim and he decided to be honest.
"I don't know. But we can hope, can't we?"
With the flash of a reassuring smile he patted her on the head and left to find the Professor. He might remember reading up on demons disappearing and like. Left alone in the room Esther watched him leave forlornly. She had wanted his company at least a little longer but she could guess where he was going and it was sweet. Even if it left her lonely. Leaning back in her bed she closed her eyes trying to catch some sleep and sort out her thoughts and as she began to drift off to bed she thought she heard a voice singing gently in her room.
"Tiiime… is on my side… oh yes, Esther… it is…"
-Well, this chapter ended up longer than I had anticipated but longer is better, right? Please review and let me know how I am doing, as an English Major I enjoy getting feedback. Also, give some love to my beta reader SMCandy and to my friends who let me bounce plot ideas off them. See you next chapter!