Ciel's encounter with the Chinese informant had left him even more rattled, and he knows aimlessly pursuing leads on the False Silver case would be futile. Of all people, Lau had managed to get under his skin. That much had sprinkled salt on his already butchered pride. He cannot afford to be that vulnerable, with or without a demon at his disposal. If he cannot be independent, he will not survive to see his goals realized.
It isn't only him who is on edge. Across from him, Mey-Rin is occupying the space in the carriage cab reserved for Sebastian alone. The maid has a pistol in each practiced hand and a rifle her side. Her glasses rest on the crown of her bonnet—they have been there since morning—and her naked eyes are diligently scanning their surroundings. Today had been second time in her life she had been outmatched in a fight, and it hadn't been sitting well with her.
The brooding of the unusual pair is interrupted by the jolt of the stagecoach's wheels coming to rest in a final groove of the Manor's drive. Snake's boots hit cobblestone with a puff of dirt as he jumps down from the driver's bench. A pale hand reaches for the handle of the cab to let out the earl and his maid. At once, all of Snake's friends release a unified hiss. The sound could chill bone into fragments; it's that terrifying.
Mey-Rin bursts out from the vehicle, the hem of her skirts swirling around her ankles. Her gaze following the footman's indicating finger. A gasp leaves her mouth.
"What is it?" Ciel demands, emerging from the carriage, his gun drawn.
His servants are too stunned to answer, but a response is not needed. A window to the left of the Manor's main doors is shattered inward. The grille is broken, and the opening the glass large enough to admit a grown person. On the lawn beneath is a familiar straw hat, red with blood. Ciel swallows.
"Master Ciel, sir. Please get back in the carriage." Mey-Rin's voice is dead serious.
"No. I'm going in."
"It's a trap—says Emily!"
"Then DON'T COME WITH ME!" His feet start to take him up the front steps.
"Wait! Master!"
"Mey-Rin get OUT OF MY WAY!"
"NO."
Her knees are trembling, but her hazel eyes and voice have a deathly calm.
"Mister Sebastian would be very angry if you went in alone." She readies her twin pistols. "Stay behind me."
"Come at me again you two, and I'll blow us all sky high!" Baldroy pants, his uniform sticking to his skin. He had been in the kitchen when he heard heard the commotion, and had been the last staff member to enter the fray.
Sweat drips into Bard's eyes. He never shies away from a good fight, but the present enemy had him and his companions beat. The lit matchbook nips at his fingers, but he endures it. At the moment, it is the only thing keeping the three of them—himself, Finny, and Tanaka—alive.
A brown boot kicks open the dining room doors, and Bard's heart breaks. It would have been best for reinforcement not to show up. Even with help they will not be able to defeat these two; they're monsters. This is the ex-soldier's worst nightmare: his friends walking into an ambush.
A blur of navy blue and white fabric races across the space, sending bullets flying into the intruders with devastating accuracy. The maid crashes to the floor shoulder first, ammunition spent. The redhead intruder grins at her like a manic, neither reaper affected by the bold attack.
"Mey, get out of here!" Bard growls. The chef is seconds from being forced to shake out the flaming matchbook. A pile of black grit is at his feet, covering the nearby area. It is not enough gunpowder to do major damage to anyone but himself, but it seems these freaks (no offense Finny and Snake) don't know that.
"FINNY!" Mey-Rin cries after stealing a glance back to the gardener, who is on the carpet fighting to stay conscious. The ends of the his golden hair are stained crimson from a gash that runs from his temple, down the side of his face, all the way to his throat. Tanaka is already out, his back is slumped against the opposite set of doors like he's more rag doll than human.
The air stills as commanding presence enters. "That's enough, Bard. Put that thing out before you get us all killed." Ciel tone is steady, and Bard obeys with a sharp exhale. The chef glares at the intruders as Snake rushes to help Mey-Rin care for Finny.
Ciel steps out in front of his servants, his stubborn chin pointing outward. "Grell. Knox. What is the meaning of this? EXPLAIN!"
"Well … my dear William—," the redhead says with a twirl.
A round nearly hits Grell in the face and buries itself into the far wall. Ciel lowers his smoking gun, barely containing his fury.
"OH HOW RUDE! That's no way to TREAT A WOMAN I'd have you know!"
"Yeah, you know, kido, most people start with the asking questions part first. Jeez you have a sadistic streak." Ronald runs his fingers through his hair.
"There aren't any souls lying about for you to collect, and you don't have with you those garish weapons of yours. There is only one purpose you can possibly have for being here. So I ask you this, Grell Sutcliff and Ronald Knox …"
Ciel's voice drops to a threatening register not even he knew he possessed, and for a moment the reapers forget their ability to crush the young man and his servants even without their death scythes.
" What have you done with my butler?"
Sebastian wakes to the taste of glue in his mouth and the sight of an annoyed William hovering over him. He's in a different space, a bedroom void of personality and anything less essential than a mattress, nightstand, stool, and four white walls. A door is open to a partial view of a bathroom and a strange box watches him from the ceiling. The demon breathes deeply, discovering he can move his body—albeit stiffly and slowly to avoid cracking open the wound on his torso.
The scowl of absolute loathing on the William's face isn't only there because of the blood, sweat, and bile plastered over the flesh and feathers of the nude demon. William actually considers taking off his glasses so he does not have to look at him with more clarity that necessary. He presses the base of his death scythe on the Sebastian's shoulder to keep him from trying to leave the bed.
"Your contract isn't punishing you because your summon was nullified. An agreement has been reached between your master and the Department. Your current predicament has been explained to him, more or less."
Sebastian turns his head to cough out old vomit and congealed blood on to the pillow. He glares at the reaper.
Now I do recall you telling me that your kind—so high and mighty—would never enter into a deal with a creature such as—
"Apparently the Department heads prefer the capture of a rogue reaper to the elimination of barrel slime such as yourself."
Sebastian weakly grabs at the death scythe, sliding it off of his skin.
Do you enjoy calling me dirty names?
"You'll learn of the terms of our arrangement soon enough. The hearing is tomorrow." William drops a packet of clothing on the demon's chest.
Trousers. Dress shirt. Vest. Tie. Belt. Socks. Shoes. Fresh gloves. Undergarments-Sebastian's own from his wardrobe at the Manor.
Grell's contribution, I presume.
"Do not bleed out when you put these on."
A ruffle of feathers. The demon's wings recede into his flesh. In a flash, the butler is on his feet, clothed impeccably in his standard uniform-minus the tailcoat. He glances to William, a bit smug as he tugs a glove into place.
Sebastian lets out a sharp gasp as his knees fall inward and his feet give out. His backside hits the floor with enough force to shatter human bones.
William can't help smirking as he heads for the door, leaving the demon collapsed on the ground.
Wait … wait Spears.
"S-spears," Sebastian croaks out through his raw throat. "Why?"
The smirk leaves Will's face. "It was my assignment. Don't think too much into it, demon."
From his place on the floor, the butler lets out a breathy laugh. "What a stellar work ethic you must have."
"Indeed. I continued to do my job even though certain details disagreed with me, whereas you diligently served you master by bleeding on a table for the last twelve hours."
William pauses to clear his throat. "Don't think for a second you've compromised my morals."
"Is that so? Even for a company man … the thought of getting rid of me for good … that must have crossed your mind at least once."
"And take advantage of your weakened state? I can't say it didn't." His green eyes glow behind his frames. "But you wallow at a level I would never sink to."
"You wouldn't have had to. I would have begged you, Spears." Their eyes meet. He draws in a painful breath. "At any rate, I don't believe perishing would have bothered me all too much."
CRASH.
"For a creature as old as you, clearly you know nothing, boy ! Death isn't a thing you can ever stop regretting!"
He's trembling all over. His death scythe is blade deep in the drywall. William breathes deeply, wishing his heart to stop its frantic pounding. He collects himself, hurt that the demon managed to get a rise out of him.
Sebastian softens, genuinely. "I do apologize. That was quite insensitive of me." He touches his hand to his lapel out of habit, slender fingers grazing the spot where the silver pin normally rests.
"You needn't spare pleasantries on me, vermin. You'll be returned to your owner in two days time."
Sebastian finds himself lifted into the air and deposited delicately on the bed.
"Try to enjoy your time off."
The door locks as it closes, and Sebastian is left alone.