A/N: Here the next chapter. Didn't get many reviews for the last one, so please don't forget them this time? =)

Beta credits go to Carrie2sky, as always =)

Warning(?): Mentions of drugs. Nothing more than that.

CHAPTER 7

Finding the criminal was a little less easy than Sebastian had initially thought. He had smelt death on the man during the funeral, and he had tasted the drugs that he dealt with. What a man like that was doing at the funeral of a Phantomhive certainly had been interesting. Maybe he could help, Sebastian had thought, and that was why he had started looking for that man. According to hearsay, the man was called Lau and the leader of a criminal empire.

Or the publisher of a men's magazine.

Sebastian wasn't surprised.

It took him the better part of his day off (after Ciel had thrown him out which was still a sore spot) to find the man, which in itself was half a day too long for Sebastian to find drug and death dealers.

He narrowed his search down to a popular nightclub. Dressed in a casual suit that made everyone turn their heads toward him, Sebastian approached the VIP booth in which Lau sat, a petite woman in his lap and two wardrobes of men on each side. There were other people in that booth, too, no doubt the beautiful elite, somehow communicating over the loud bass that made the whole building shake.

Sebastian made a point to linger around the booth, in Lau's direct field of vision. He found a lady to dance with, then a man. Both pressed themselves against him, and Sebastian took pleasure in their lust for him. But he smelled their expensive perfumes and the sweat and the alcohol on their breath, and just like that, he lost interest. He felt so many pairs of eyes on him, it was hard to find out if one of those belonged to Lau.

He went to the bar. A perky girl rushed to serve him, grinning widely and showing a clean row of teeth beneath her blood red lips. Sebastian returned the smile charmingly and ordered the strongest drink he could find on the card. It tasted like nothing and wouldn't get him drunk, not even after ten drinks. He had downed half of the drink before things finally got interesting.

A hand touched his wrist before he could finish his drink. Sebastian stopped and turned to look at the woman that he'd seen sitting in Lau's lap before. She looked at him as if she had seen him in a thousand variations and was tired of it. Come with me, she mouthed, not even bothering to battle the loud music. Sebastian put his glass down and followed her. A sense of quiet victory filled him.

Lau's booth was a little quieter, but not by too much. "I don't think I've seen you here before," the Chinese man greeted Sebastian as he was led into the booth. "I could make use of your face."

Sebastian smirked. "Could you?"

The man chuckled. "For my magazine. I'm Lau. Surely you've heard of me."

"I have heard very little about you, sir," Sebastian said as Lau motioned for him to take a seat next to him, "but even few words can say much, don't you think?"

The man didn't seem fazed in the slightest. "I'm beginning to think you came here with me in mind."

"I did. Are you flattered?"

Lau grinned. The woman returned to his lap, wrapping her arms around his neck and staring at Sebastian intently. The bulky men got up and politely asked everyone else to leave the booth. Surprisingly enough, the people left. Not even the drunk complained. Sebastian hid his frown.

"I might be." The demon looked up as the criminal spoke. "What is it that you are here for?"

"Can I speak freely?" Sebastian said after a pause.

"You may. Nobody is in here that wouldn't know."

"I thought you'd deny everything," Sebastian said carefully.

"What can I say...?" Lau shrugged. "There is something about you that tells me that lying won't bring me far. I am a good liar. I have good lawyers. But I don't feel like using any of that on you. Care to tell me why?"

That was… Surprisingly easy. Sebastian raised his eyebrows, not bothering to hide his astonishment. "I know you deal with drugs and death," Sebastian said.

"I have the best assassins," Lau confirmed. "And many interesting chemicals to play with."

"Do you track people, too?"

"Comes with the field of work."

Sebastian almost huffed a laugh. "What if I had a listening device on me?"

"I know you don't." That could either be a bluff or the truth. Sebastian couldn't quite tell. This was an interesting specimen. "What would you like us to do for you?"

Us. Sebastian looked around. Not everyone had left the booth, it seemed. The two bodyguards were still there, as well as a youngster with black and blond hair slouching in his seat no too far away, nursing his drink with a nonchalance that came to him naturally. Sebastian eyed the boy for a moment. The boy looked up and winked at him.

"I know you had something to do with Vincent or Rachel Phantomhive. Maybe even with their deaths. You were at the funeral."

"That I was," Lau said without missing a beat. "And I indeed knew them."

Sebastian could think about the Phantomhives' ethics later. "Do you happen to know a man named Claude Faustus?"

The smile slid off Lau's lips. "Claude Faustus?"

"Yes."

The youngster seemed to have tuned them out completely. The bodyguards were scowling heavily. Suddenly Sebastian knew that this was a dead end.

Lau told him as much. "We will not seek out this man."

"Care to tell me why?"

"No," Lau said after a second's worth of silence in which he looked Sebastian up and down. "It is a shame that we couldn't come to an agreement; your payment would have been your face on the cover page of the next issue. But alas, we cannot do business if you're looking for the wrong people."

"You know where he is," Sebastian said slowly.

"Actually, I don't. I don't want to know where he is. There are things you shouldn't seek out. Claude Faustus is one of them."

Sebastian should have expected this outcome. Puny humans getting all scared of an uncultured beast like Claude. Of course. "Interesting, hearing these words from a mob boss."

"You'll see that wisdom can be found everywhere. Please do not try to find us again. Please do not look for Claude Faustus. He is the devil."

"You believe in that?"

"I have seen it," Lau said, dead serious.

"I am a devil, too," Sebastian said finally. "And I want to take Claude out. Tell me where he is."

Lau shook his head. Sebastian contemplated tearing it off – and wouldn't that teach him a lesson? – but ultimately decided against it. The man could still come to his senses.

"I will take my leave, then," Sebastian announced, standing.

"Farewell," Lau said with a little wave.

When Sebastian left the club – watching the people watching him leave – he checked his wristwatch. It was already early morning. He had to return to his contractor. His mark itched.

Unhappy faces greeted him at the Mistress' house. But not only did they seem angry, but also worried sick. Especially Hilde. That woman couldn't keep her facial expressions in very well.

When she saw Sebastian she made a beeline towards him. He thought of fleeing, but that wouldn't be very dignified, so he stayed and allowed her to grab him by the collar, pull him down towards her and shout at him.

"Where have you been?"

"Information hunting," Sebastian replied smoothly. "You know, the information that will allow your mistress to live longer?"

She looked ready to rip his throat out with her bare hands. Instead she shook him, which didn't have much of an effect on him, but it got the message across. Anne had hurried to the pair, now placing a hand on Hilde, but Hilde slapped it away like it was the most annoying thing she had seen in her entire life.

Sebastian brought his own hands to Hilde's where they were grabbing his collar and wrinkling his shirt and started a careful attempt at prying them apart. It did not work. The woman's hands were surprisingly strong. Sebastian on the other hand didn't want to apply too much pressure, lest he break them. So he kept her hands engulfed in his, which disgusted her so much that she tore them free.

"What happened that has you in a mood like this at two am?" Sebastian asked, straightening his collar.

"The Mistress tested the new potion," Anne said when Hilde seemed too furious to speak, "she poisoned herself."

Sebastian frowned. "I don't feel that."

"Whether you feel it or not, she's in bed now with a fever and poisonous demon tissue in her stomach," Hilde said.

"I'm sure her stomach will take care of that all by itself," Sebastian said. Without wasting another moment on the scandalized witches by the main entrance, he quickly took the stairs and went into Sieglinde's room after a hurried knock.

The girl was lying among plush cushions, buried in a pile of blankets, and was emitting the stench of sickness. Sebastian could hear Grete in the other room rummaging around. He knew it was Grete by the fact that nothing had been dropped yet. Grete had the steadiest pair of hands next to Sebastian, in any situation. Wolfram was probably crying in the kitchen or had been banned from the grounds to calm down. Or maybe he had taken a few moments on his own accord and was now leaving the city for a run in the woods.

"I heard you poisoned yourself, mistress," Sebastian murmured when he approached the bed. Sieglinde was sweaty and pale and undeniably small. She looked at him with glassy eyes. Sebastian felt his contract mark itch. Had it done that before?

"Never mix your own skin with basil," Sieglinde muttered, slurring like she was drunk. There was a pompous bouquet on her nightstand. Sebastian stared at it, bewildered by the sight, until Sieglinde spoke again: "Among other things. But basil…"

"I'll make sure to remember that," Sebastian said with a frown. "How are you feeling?"

"Awful," Sieglinde replied with a scowl. "Can't you see?"

"I can, actually. I didn't want to be rude and simply assume, though."

Sieglinde pulled a face. "If you're trying to be funny, check your attitude. You're simply annoying."

The bathroom door opened and Grete entered the bedroom, placing a bucket next to Sieglinde's bed. The girl looked at it and promptly turned green.

"We assume it's life-threatening," Grete said. "She stopped breathing earlier, but we managed to bring her back." She looked at him calmly, but Sebastian knew her heart was beating as if she was running a marathon. "It is in your interest to keep her alive."

"It is," Sebastian said. "What do you plan to do?"

"We find a cure." She tilted her head to the right. "Let's start with the most obvious." She grabbed his arm and pushed up the sleeve to mark a stripe of flesh on his lower arm. "Rip that off; I'll try to brew an antidote from that."

"And if that makes it worse?" Sebastian asked.

"Then you will bring me an angel," Grete replied. "And you will kill it here. You hear me?"

Sebastian found himself a little taken aback by the vehemence in Grete's voice. "That will be hard to do."

"You want to find Claude, don't you?"

"What Grete just told you to do," Sieglinde croaked, strangely conscious. "That's an order, you hear me?"

"Of course," Sebastian said, bowing.

He had never killed an angel before. They weren't easy to murder. He had heard that some of them had slain an army of (admittedly, lower) demons in a group of fifty. Fifty against thousands. Angels were a force that kept even high demons like Sebastian on their toes. It was easier to avoid them than face them. They also worked better as a team than demons, who preferred to roam the world alone. So they could easily erase a high-ranking demon in no time if it was two or three against one.

As he watched his pale contractor fall asleep, Sebastian felt a curious but pesky feeling bloom within him, cutting his centre with its thorns.

Doubt.