Part 9 - In Which Sebastian Introduces Endarkened Scout Cookies

"Explain this to me, Amatis."

Amatis cleared her throat and set the box at Sebastian's feet. "They're cookies, my Lord. Laramie thinks it a good idea to give them out in exchange for money. Asmodeus is expecting the rent this month, and we have nothing to give him."

Sebastian turned his cold black gaze onto Laramie. "So, my faithful accountant's brilliant solution is to sell cheap baked goods to the mundanes?"

Laramie looked unimpressed. "My Lord, it's been nearly two weeks since we last talked, and you've made no move to attack another institute or find a job. This is our last resort."

Sebastian growled. "I refuse to subject myself to such a humiliating form of manual labor."

"Then you've sentenced us to homelessness."

Sebastian grinned. "No I haven't. I said I won't do it. You will." He bounced a happy Lilith in his lap, rubbing his chin thoughtfully. "These cookies-what kind are they?"

"Thin mints," Laramie hissed through gritted teeth. "American mundanes adore them."

"That must be why they're all so grossly overweight," Sebastian said. "Very well, Mr. Hollyberry. Amatis. You are both dismissed. Take that cheap chocolate-covered cardboard out of my dimension and feed it to the mundanes. I expect a grand sum of 500 mundane dollars by the end of the day."

"Sir, according to my calculations, if we're selling each of these boxes for five dollars, we'd have to sell 100 boxes in only three hours."

"And?"

"And, that is physically impossible. If we calculate the time it would take for us to cover one block, assuming that we're selling in New York, and taking into account the probability of each residence to buy one box-"

"Oh for the love of Lilith, quit that yapping and get out." Sebastian rubbed his temples. "You're giving me a headache, Hollyberry."

Amatis unsheathed her blade and pointed it at the accountant's throat. "How dare you bring harm to my Lord Sebastian," she hissed. "Stop it immediately!"

"Amatis," Sebastian said tiredly. "Go fetch Lilith her bottle, would you?"

"Oh, as you wish, my Lord!" Amatis quickly sheathed her blade and scuttled out of the room, like a cockroach fleeing from a sudden bright light.

Laramie's emotionless brown eyes settled on Sebastian. "Shall I ask Amatis to organize patrols, my Lord?"

"Yes," Sebastian decided. "You will all start bright and early tomorrow morning. I will have a grand total of 5,000 American dollars by the time you return. Is that clear?"

Laramie let out an exasperated breath. "Crystal."

"Good." Sebastian eyed Lilith's dirty onesie with distaste. "My daughter has been wearing the same article of clothing for the past three weeks. Where would I purchase something else for her to wear?"

"My Lord, I am a 24 year-old accountant from Chicago. Do I look like I would know where to buy baby clothes?" Laramie said irritably.

Sebastian sniffed. "I thought drinking from the Cup was supposed to make you all respect me."

"Respect you?" Laramie rolled his eyes. "No. Fear is a better word for it. Even though, I don't feel much of that, either."

"That's because you're an accountant and you have no soul," Sebastian said. "And that's coming from me, Hollyberry. Valentine's neglected demon son. You have some serious issues."

"You're not wrong, my Lord." Laramie picked up the box of thin-mints and briskly left the room. Upon the accountant's departure and Amatis' return with Lilith's bottle, Sebastian decided to pay his sister a visit in her temporary prison.

Clary was still asleep when he arrived, shushing a fussy Lilith as she reached for the bottle in his other hand. His sister was not a graceful sleeper; she was sprawled out messily in a tangle of covers, snoring with a large amount of hair pasted to her cheek with drool.

Sebastian sniffed. "You see that beautiful creature there, Lilith? That's your aunt Clarissa. Though soon, if things work out, she'll also be your mother." He beamed. "Won't that be nice?"

Lilith paused and looked up at him with something like confusion in her big black eyes.

A muscle in Sebastian's jaw twitched. "What? Stop looking at me like that."

She didn't.

Sebastian huffed. "Whatever. You're a baby, what do you know? Here, would you like Aunty to feed you your bottle, Lily?" He set her on the bed beside Clary's sleeping form. "Go on. Wake her up."

Lilith examined her prey for a spell before reaching out with a chubby arm and yanking on a fistful of Clary's red curls. The girl yelped and sat up; Lilith giggled deviantly.

"Ow! Jonathan, what the hell?"

"Language, little sister," Sebastian crooned. "You're in the presence of a princess. Do try to remember, or I might have to punish you."

Clary curled her lip. "You're gross. What do you want, freak show?"

"Lily wants you to feed her her bottle," Sebastian replied coolly. "You wouldn't want to disappoint her, would you?"

Clary made a face, wrinkling her nose and squinting her eyes. "By the Angel-but it's so early!"

"It's eight 'o' clock in the evening, Clarissa."

"Your point?"

"The princess demands her bottle and you will feed it to her, or face the dire consequences."

Lilith let out a gleeful laugh, clapped her hands, and rolled onto her back. She then proceeded to reach for her foot and stick it into her gummy mouth. Clary raised an eyebrow at her brother. "Oh yes, she's absolutely terrifying. What's she gonna do? Suck her thumb and give me the chair?"

Sebastian thrust the bottle into Clary's hands. "Just feed her the damn bottle, you stubborn woman."

"Language, big brother," Clary said, mocking her brother's posh accent. "You know, your accent sounds totally fake. I bet you actually grew up in Kentucky or something." She gathered Lilith up into her arms and stuck the bottle's teat into her mouth.

Sebastian huffed. "My accent is not fake."

"It's totally just for show," Clary insisted. "You're actually a hillbilly, aren't you? You're some kind of seriously troubled Cletus the Slack-Jawed Yokel!"

Sebastian made a face. "Who?"

"Nevermind," Clary sighed. "He married his sister too. Or his cousin. Or his mother. It's not really clear."

"I think we'd get along," Sebastian decided.

"Of course you think that." Clary scowled at him. "But seriously. Everyone knows you just use that dumb accent to pick up girls."

"Oh yes, you've caught me red-handed." He waggled his eyebrows. "Howdy."

Clary choked.