The sun is so bright; the rays blind me as I turn down the busy street corner and onto a quiet side street. I love to walk around outside – this is a new found freedom that I have never experienced before and I am smitten with the feeling. I have never had the familiarity of any area to walk around unaccompanied before and this town excites me.

Every turn of the corner leads me onto to something different, something new. Vibrantly colored wooden buildings stacked on top of one another with massive archways that turn into balconies. Rows and rows of these buildings packed full of shops; shoe shops, bookshops, hat shops and green grocers. I enjoy passing the shops as these streets always serve as a pulse to the town, coursing the lifeblood throughout. Children are laughing and playing, there is music leaking out of every pub and bar and the fragrant spicy smell of Cajun cuisine is ubiquitous

Horse drawn carriages clamor and clack over the rough cobbled pavements, there are so many different languages spoken, so many immigrants with more coming in by the day from the port - each bringing new ideas and their various cultures to this wonderful melting pot.

I love it here, I find that I am so happy that I could skip along these cobbled roads and narrow side streets and never be bored. I love it all and I love the fact that I am alone.

Sebastian never comes with me when I explore the town – it isn't that he doesn't want to, I don't want him to. I want him to stop being my butler and to stop following me around like a well trained dog. When I lived in England, he was my butler, he was obligated to follow me – probably because I was always in imminent danger but here, there is no need. No one knows me and I don't know anyone here. I am anonymous, no one, not an Earl or a Phantomhive, not even Ciel – I am just me, whoever I am now and this town accepts me for that.

However, the only way I could get Sebastian to agree to leave me be, is to promise that all I need to do is call and he will appear. I sincerely hope it doesn't come to that.

Finding a quaint café, I order a pot of tea and sit outside. I never really enjoyed the sun before but I can't seem to get enough of it these days. Perhaps it was because I had locked myself away in my cabin on the ship or maybe, even more likely, is that England harbored nothing but slate grey skies and rain.

In any case, I lean back in my chair and raise my face to the sky, soaking up as much as I can on this chilly spring day. The waitress comes over to me, interrupting my basking and sits the tray down in front of me, she offers to make my tea but I decline – let's be honest, I'm not really going to drink it anyway. Taking her leave, I look over what she has presented and I begin to prepare the tea myself. What a novel experience. I sift the leaves into the pot of hot water and allow it to steep. There is a small hourglass beside the cup and I turn it over and watch as the sand slowly drains down to the bottom.

In this moment, I cannot help myself as my thoughts drift to Sebastian.

'You have to break the contract.'

Yes Alice, I know I do.

'You have to break the contract.' Another voice repeats.

I understand.

Over these last few weeks, I have been what could be considered as happy. It's funny; the feeling is so foreign to me that I wasn't absolutely sure what it was that's come over me. When was the last time I was happy? I think it was when I was snuggled up with my parents in bed, there was as thunderstorm and I was scared. My mother reached out to me and my father smiled as he helped me up – I was so very small then. Their arms surrounded and enveloped me, keeping me warm and safe. I know then, I was truly happy.

I could feel this sense of contentment again as I was getting into the rhythm of being a demon and hitting my stride. I was even getting stronger and starting to take over Sebastian – which has only caused him to be annoyed and if I can annoy him then I enjoy myself all the more. Our relationship has become quite strained. I allow him to go off to do God knows what without me and he is the same, we try to spend as little time together as possible as it always just ends up in resentment, arguing and his overwhelming desire to snuff out my existence.

Still, he's always around me, ever present even when he thinks I don't notice. He allows me to do these jaunts on my own but I think he sometimes forgets that I can smell him, sense him close to me – I always know he's there. Not today though, today, I feel truly alone.

Even though he can do whatever it is that he does, he comes back quickly. He says it's for my benefit but I'm better off without him and now that I've learned how to exist on my own, feed on my own and survive on my own - I don't need him around anymore. However, as much as I try, I cannot seem to break our contract. Not for want of trying, I've never been so desperate to do anything in my entire life.

The timer is up. I put the strainer into the porcelain cup and pour the tea in, turning my nose up at the pungent smell. Sitting the pot back down, I lift the strainer out and set it aside and stare at the sienna liquid in the cup, I would drink it but I know that it would be disgusting. There's no one around me anyway so I just lean back in the chair, close my eyes and put my face back up towards the warmth of the sun.

I could hear footsteps approach me and stop. The clacking sounds of the shoes on the cobbles were light and staccato, which meant they belonged to a woman. I don't think to open my eyes, as I can almost be assured that it is a prostitute. New Orleans is a nice town but there seems to be a seedier side of it that I am not quite used to. I hear her ruffle her sleeves and a fragrance of patchouli emanates from her skin – well, at least she doesn't smell like a prostitute.

She clears her throat, almost as if she is summoning my attention. I open my left eye into a narrow slit and roll it into her direction. She has light brown skin and jet black, curly hair that pokes out of some strange ethnic head wrap. Her dress is black and tight at the top but the skirt is belled out. She smiles at me as she adjusts the gold embroidered orange shawl that is draped around her shoulders. She tilts her head from side to side as she examines me, and then lets out an airy chuckle.

"Well now, who is hauntin' you demon?" She asks. Both of my eyes fly open and I quickly sit forward – stunned.

"W-what?"

"I said, who is hauntin' you?" She grins as she folds her arms across her chest.

"No, the last part."

"Demon?" I nod at that word.

"Why would you call me that?" I hesitate and look around to see if anyone had heard her, of course not, there's no one around. The woman chuckles and takes the empty seat next to me. Who is this woman and what exactly is she doing? She places her elbows on the table and leans over.

"Well, that's what you is, right? You a demon." She points at me. Her voice is heavy with a French accent and drawls, I stumble for words but my mind can't seem to reach them. "Com'mon mon petit chou, you can't deny it – I can tell."

"A-are you one too?" I hesitate. Does she want to fight? I've never gotten into a fight with another demon other than Sebastian before. She leans back and shakes her head no, I don't think is going to do me any harm but I didn't know what she was and how she knew that I was a demon. Looking down on my cup of tea, she picks it up and swirls it around, then draws it up to her nose and sniffs it.

"Oh, this is no good." She laughs as she sits the cup back down.

"What is no good?"

"This here. This is no good for a demon – you can't taste it, right?" Her voice is cheerful and nonchalant, as though speaking with a demon is just an everyday occurrence.

"N-no, I guess I can't." I reply.

Laughing again, she slaps the tops of her knees and stands to her feet, moving back in front of me, she holds out her hand for mine.

"Come demon, I make you a nice cup of tea; you'd like that, non?" She flicks her hand back and forth, beckoning for me to come along with her.

"I don't even know who you are and how did you know I am a demon?"

"I don't even know who you is but I can see that you are haunted, child, and I can help, now come." She commands. I don't move, which causes her face to scrunch up and frown in disapproval. "I am Marie Laveau and I'm well known round these parts, in fact all Louisiana. I am the Voodoo Queen." She smiles. I know of voodoo, Sebastian told me about it in derogatory terms when we arrived but he didn't tell me that they could figure out someone like me. I decide to go with her, what does it matter anyway, I could easily overpower her and possibly get a good meal out of her if needs be and if all else fails, if I need Sebastian, all I need do, is call – although I sincerely hope it doesn't come to that.

Near the French Quarter, the house of the Voodoo Queen of Louisiana is unlike any one I've ever been in before. I sit on her davenport, which is an odd bluish grey color and I fidget as I look around nervously. Her house is very strange; it is dark, as the heavy crimson drapes covering her windows are drawn. There are little dolls and sacks of things everywhere. Books, copious amounts of books, decorate her tables and other chairs, as do shawls of various colors. Amulets, charms and statues are also scattered throughout as well as roots and numerous herbs. The whole place reeks of patchouli oil and lavender, which turns my stomach.

Marie walks out of her kitchen carrying a tray with two separate pots of tea and two cups and sits it down in front of me on the table. She takes off the lid to one of them and sniffs the vapors.

"This one's yours." She motions as she places the lid back on. I nod and take the pot from the tray, the smell was quite neutral and I pour it into my cup, the liquid is almost clear as I take the cup closer to my face for inspection. Interesting, it has no real smell and almost no color. I can see her watching me as I go through a ritual that is so familiar to me but I haven't done in such a long time. I draw out each motion, without realizing it, I bring the cup to my nose and inhale the lack of scent, I swirl the liquid in the cup and I draw it to my lips – although I am slightly apprehensive as I don't know how it will taste – I'm surprised, it's wonderful.

Seeing the pleased expression on my face, Marie takes her own cup into her hands and sits down beside me.

"Ah, I knew you'd like it!"

"What is this?"

"It's a witches brew. I made it with roots from the maudit tree – it's very poisonous to humans but to a demon, it's fine. C'est bon, non?"

"Yes, very."

"Bon! I make some for you to take."

"Merci beaucoup!" I smile, I couldn't help it, she is being so kind to me. Not to mention that I missed tea and this kind woman had given me some that I can actually drink.

"Now demon, who is hauntin' you?"

"How can you tell?" I ask between sips. She shrugs and sits her cup down. She suddenly grabs my wrists and guides my hands to the table as I put my cup down. When I do, she takes my hands into hers, closes her eyes and breathes deeply, concentrating.

"Duex, there is two in you. The first one is a girl." She whispers – I am nervous but she is right, there seems to be two that are haunting me, one for sure – Alice – as for the other one, I don't know. Marie breathes in deeply again and exhales slowly. "The second one is-" She pauses, I watch her as she moves her head towards me, trying to listen to my thoughts but they are silent, "is a boy."

A boy? I haven't taken a soul from a boy before.

Marie opens her eyes and looks straight into mine, she squeezes my hands and I can feel a jolt course through me, my right eye burns as it must have changed over to the contract seal. I am scared but I can't look away as she holds my gaze.

"Interesting." She says curiously, "You were human before, I see, I see… You poor thing, how you suffered." She thinks aloud. Marie closes her eyes again, she mutters something under her breath but her voice vibrates through me. "He tells me you want out of your contract – but you can't. Fait intéressant..." She finally lets go of my hands, sighs and rolls her shoulders to stretch out. "Ok demon, I can help you." She smiles, "Although I have never exorcised a mal soul from a demon before." She muses aloud to herself.

"How?"

"It is simple." She lowers her voice causing me to instinctively lean in. "Stop eatin' souls!" She chuckles drolly. I frown immediately and sit back in a huff as she leans over to collect her teacup and hold it in her lap. "It seems that this is a downside to your curse, mon petit chou. The stronger willed the soul, the longer it stays with you. They should leave you over time as the will will disappear but be careful not to let them over take you." She warns.

I nod; I guess I understand that, even though I don't know why. She takes a sip of her tea, realizing it is cold; she places it back on the table.

"One more thing demon." Her dark brown eyes shoot over to me sharply, "Sebastian." If I had a beating heart, it would have stopped at the mere mention of his name, how does she know? "If you want Sebastian to be free of your contract, you have to stop caring about him. Stop caring and he will be free."

I snort, caring is the farthest thing away from what I am towards him.

"I don't care about Sebastian, I hate him." I spit.

She gingerly takes my hand and pats it, shaking her head at me.

"Oh, la, la, la… It is in your heart and your mind mon petit chou. In time, you will come understand and what you must do."

"I don't have time." I sigh.

"What is the opposite of love?"

"Hate."

"Non, cheri, the opposite of love is indifference. When you are indifferent, you could not care one way or the other about that person. To hate means you still have some sort of feelin' towards him. It may not be a good feeling but it's a feeling nonetheless. No?"

Yes. She is right.

Standing to her feet, she guides me up, I guess our time here is done.

"I have a client comin' shortly." She leads me towards the door but before she opens it, she stops, "You will come again though, won't you?" I smile and nod, which causes her to grin broadly. "Bon, good. I can show you how to keep these two quiet up there." She taps my temple lightly. If she can, it will be a relief, though I have noticed that ever since I met her – they have stayed silent – then it hit me.

"Who is the other one?"

"Hm?"

"You said there was a boy?"

She lightly pats my shoulder as she puts her other hand on the door handle.

"He was the first one, there from the start, with you the whole time." She opens the door and lets me out. "See you next time, come by anytime and I'll have the tea for you." She waves. I dip my head politely and make my way through the busy streets back to the hotel. I feel warm and light – is this what it is like to make a friend? So much for anonymity.

It is dark by the time Sebastian comes to see me; he walks into my room without knocking and sits down on a chair by the window, facing me. I am already bathed and in my nightshirt and laying on my stomach on the bed, reading a book I had found on Haitian voodoo. I stopped into a bookstore by the hotel; they looked at me strangely when I asked about it, but then found it and accepted my money nevertheless. Flipping through it and sure enough, Marie was right, she is very well known around Louisiana and even quoted in this book – all though most of the book is based on her mother, the first Marie Laveau, apparently, this incarnation of Marie is just as good.

I thought about all of the things that she had said to me today and I tried to make sense of them all. Most particularly, who was the boy that was with me all along? I don't understand. He doesn't torment me as much as Alice but his voice is still there, his laughter sends shivers down my spine and his words bother me. I also think about what she said about not caring and how long it would take.

I understand what she means now. Even though it was all built on lies Sebastian was the one who saved my life, whatever was left of it. He protected me, sort of, well – he did try. I suppose demons are not perfect beings either. Even though it was because of the contract, he was always with me – even now, he's sat across from me. I don't bother to look up at him but I know he's watching me, waiting for me to acknowledge his existence.

"What did you do today?" I ask half heartedly, I know he was doing something that I don't particularly care about or am still too young to know about. He smirks and stands, striding over to me he sits next to me and pulls the book from my hands, how annoying.

"Voodoo? My lord, why are you filling your head with this nonsense?" He mocks, I struggle to my elbows and try to fetch it back but he holds it high above his head. Pushing off of my palms, I launch myself up and snatch the book back, cradling it in my arms.

"I met the Voodoo Queen of Louisiana today." I hug the book to my chest as Sebastian tries to pry it away from me again.

"The elusive Voodoo Queen, eh? You're better off not hanging around someone like her, she will give you the wrong ideas about things."

"She told me how I can be rid of you." I scowl, as I scurry to the head of the bed, book in hand.

"How?" He raises his eyebrow at that sentence.

"How what?"

He crawls along the bed and stretches himself out on top of it, on his stomach, with his head just below my lap.

"How can you get rid of me?" He asks curiously as he looks up at me.

I smirk and shake my head, I'm not telling him – I'm not letting him have any more power over me.

He sighs and rolls over onto his back, covering his eyes with his forearm, what was he doing? His playful behavior is unnerving, as I know that he likes to do things as you would with an animal, as reward and punishment – to lull me in a false sense of security and then take it away. Sebastian is the master of mental manipulation, he can be kind when he wants to but he can equally be cruel to me. I never know which one he wants to be until it's too late and I'm sucked in, I hate that about him but I do remember that he always used to be like this, even when I was alive. Then again, I wasn't totally blameless in that area myself.

"I found an excellent townhouse in the French Quarter, I'm sure you'll be pleased with it." He interrupts my thoughts.

Even if I weren't, it would be fine for me. I want a place of my own now, I'm sick of living in a hotel – not to mention, the French Quarter is next to Marie.

"Ok, the French Quarter. When do we move?"

"Well, I've already made preparations to move tomorrow. Does that suit you young master?" He moves closer to me and rests his head onto my lap. His arm flops over my waist and he tries to steal my book again but I snatch it away - again.

Moving tomorrow? That suits me just fine because, as it stands, all I want to focus on is how not to care anymore. How not to care about you...

Author's note: I know I'm a few chapters late but I feel that I should point out that this is not – I repeat – not a romance story.

Fun fact - Marie Laveau was in fact a real person and the Voodoo Queen of Louisiana. More people have been to her gravesite than have been to Elvis's – how cool is that?