Chapter Text
Recap:
“Rina.” Sebastian calls, his voice firm. “It is best you stay away. It will only consume you.”
I tremble in my spot, holding my arm in a form of self-comfort.
“What will?”
He smiles—but it’s haunted.
“Me.”
My chest tightens and the mark on my neck isn’t any less forgiving.
0o0o0o0o
The music from the Sphere Music Hall is deafened by the sound of my pulse thrashing in my ears. Sebastian and I stand still—locked in place, locked on each other. It’s magnetic. Charged. Every inch of me screams to be in his arms again. It’s an urge that borders on agony.
He says he’ll consume me. But I start to wonder if he realizes he already does.
My fists clench at my sides, nails biting through my gloves.
“And if I tell you…” I trail off, heat blooming in my cheeks. The alcohol and the kiss have emboldened me. “That you already have?”
His eyes widen slightly—not expecting that response. But just as quickly, he relaxes, though his jaw ticks tight.
“Then, you would be under delusion.” Sebastian says flatly, eyes narrowing.
He’s calling me crazy? After all that?
A roar of anger bubbles up from somewhere deep and ugly.
I step forward, hand pressed to my chest. “So, the kiss was what? A figment of my imagination? I may be drunk, you asshole, but I recall quite well what you just did.”
His eye twitches before he finally looks away. “You were vulnerable. It was my mistake for being seduced by your glimpse of weakness. You are lucky I did not continue further.”
“Your mistake?” I hiss, picking the words apart. “My luck?”
A disbelieving laugh bursts from me, raw and furious.
“Oh, this is rich.” I snarl. “Classic, even.”
Sebastian opens his mouth—then shuts it just as quickly. The rising noise of people fills the alley; the show must be ending. I glance across the street, catching the flow of guests leaving the hall. He wastes no time stepping out into the light, and I watch him sharply before trailing after.
I’m still burning—rigid, hurt, confused beyond words. He walks ahead, pace brisk, back straight, every movement radiating that same impossible composure. He’s trying to create distance.
Fine. I’ll let him.
By the time I catch up, he’s already standing by the carriage, posture carved from shadow. He doesn’t look at me. His attention stays locked on the hall, lip curling faintly in disdain.
I wrap my arms around myself and wait for my brother.
A child walks by, beaming, singing a tune that floats through the chill air.
“You’re a shining star! Even if your light is small! You’re a shining star~”
I raise an eyebrow. What in the glittery hell is this hall teaching people?
Then—salvation. I spot Ciel and Edward through the dispersing crowd, and relief floods me. “Ciel!” I wave both arms, forcing a grin. “Edward!”
“Rina!” Ciel calls back, dashing toward us, Edward in tow.
“Wha—” Edward gasps, eyes snapping to Sebastian behind me. “B-Butler! What in the blazes are you doing?!”
I blink, confused—until Ciel’s expression darkens too. I turn, dread pooling in my gut.
A woman from the pub is hanging off Sebastian’s arm, smiling up at him like he’s the prize in a raffle.
When did she get here?!
“Oh wow, you really are a butler, mister!” she exclaims, hand pressing boldly against his chest. “Dragging such a young master out to enjoy the night life…aren’t you the naughty one…”
Something primal in me snaps. My hands tremble; my teeth grit. Every cell screams mine before I can stop it.
“H-How shameless! You are on duty!” Edward stammers, his face flaming red as he tries not to stare at the woman’s chest.
“Oh, pardon me.” Sebastian replies dryly, hand still resting on her shoulder.
“My, my,” the woman giggles, now amused by Edward’s embarrassment. “Your face is as red as an apple. How adorable!”
“Shut it!” Edward barks, flustered.
I step forward and plant myself between Sebastian and the woman, my glare hot enough to melt through the corset if I tried. But my emotions are bubbling and making them burn as well.
Something about my expression must terrify her—her face drains of color.
“Leave us.” I growl.
She bolts without looking back.
Sebastian smirks down at me, infuriatingly calm. “My, how frightening.” he murmurs, eyes skating over me.
“And you’re a horrible bastard!” I snap, stomping off toward the carriage. I don’t care if my heels catch the hem of my skirt—I need distance.
No one follows. I glance back; Ciel and Edward are still standing awkwardly. My brother looks torn between concern and secondhand embarrassment.
“Are we just going to stand here all day?” I snap. “Come on!”
Edward hesitates, then clambers in after me.
“What’s her deal…?” he mutters under his breath.
I glare daggers. “What was that?”
“Nothing.” he whistles, looking away.
I cross my arms, tapping my foot. I feel like a royal bitch—but who can blame me? Stupid, smug demon. I should douse him in holy water.
Ciel climbs in next, and before he can sit beside Edward, I yank him down into the seat beside me. “Wah!” Ciel yelps, crashing into the cushion. “What the hell, Rina?!”
I ignore him and inch closer—needing proximity, needing something human to anchor me.
Sebastian enters last, his gaze brushing over me. It’s unreadable now. Distant.
He sits beside Edward, closes his eyes, and folds his hands neatly in his lap—as if he can’t feel the death glare radiating off me.
I want to go home. I want peace.
And most of all—I want to forget the demon and his bloody kiss.
0o0o0o0o
The world is a dark place—but somehow, there’s comfort in not knowing what comes next. Voices drift faintly around me, muffled and warm. I recognize Fenian’s, Edward’s, and…Sebastian’s.
My eyelids feel stapled shut. My mind sways between dream and waking. When did I even fall asleep?
A small snore slips from my mouth. I hear it before I feel it, and it’s enough to jolt me halfway to consciousness. My mouth is dry as a desert.
I groan softly, forcing my eyes open at last.
The drawing room greets me in amber light. I’m curled up in one of the armchairs, cocooned under a blanket tucked neatly into every crevice of me. Of course he’d tuck me in like a doll. I rub my eyes with the back of my hand just as Sebastian approaches—perfect posture, a silver tray balanced effortlessly, two steaming cups of tea clinking faintly.
Across from me, Ciel and Edward sit in their own chairs. Both look far too awake for this hour. Ciel perks up when he notices my stirring.
“Ah, did we wake you?” Ciel asks softly.
I shake my head and yawn wide enough to crack my jaw.
“I don’t think so.”
Sebastian glides between us, setting tea before them. His gaze lingers on me for a second—eyes sweeping over me before shuttering closed, unreadable—and then he turns back to the tea cart like I’m no more interesting than a regular human.
“You passed out so quickly. You were drooling all over, Ciel.” Edward says, smirking.
I gasp, mortified. “Please, tell me you are wrong.”
Ciel snickers. “Sebastian may need to wash my hat.”
I slap my hand over my face, half-hiding behind the blanket. Fantastic. I’m the house embarrassment again.
“Well, either way,” I say, peeking out. “What did I miss?”
Ciel’s expression hardens as he leans forward in his pajamas. “I got my fortune told. I was given the rare star of Sirius—everyone was feeling jubilation for me. After that, there was a big performance. The previous prefects from Weston were all on stage. They sang and danced—I’ve never seen anything like it. Nothing like a church choir. The people in the hall were enthralled—even Edward was quite amazed.”
I pull my knees up, hugging them lightly. “How strange. So, the power of the song has more influence than we thought.”
Sebastian approaches again, tray balanced in one hand. “I see. So, that’s what happened.”
He holds out a cup for me.
I stare at it like it’s suspiciously glowing.
“Did you poison it?” I ask.
Sebastian sweatdrops. “No, my lady, what reason do you ask?”
I snatch the cup before he can offer it again and narrow my eyes at him. I sip loudly—defiant—and nearly choke when the flavor hits. My favorite blend. It takes every ounce of willpower not to crush the cup in my trembling hand.
Ciel shoots me a questioning look before sighing. “Yes, it was nothing like opera or ballet performances. In terms of both song and dance, it was a completely different genre.”
Now that sounds intriguing. “Like…?” I trail off, gesturing toward myself.
“We’ll discuss the tunes later.” Ciel says, catching my drift.
Edward cuts in with a thoughtful frown. “On top of that, the audience were singing along and waving their hands. I’ve never seen such a spectacle. The song was so catchy you got the urge to hum it.”
I blink. That sounds suspiciously like a 2000’s girl-pop concert. All that’s missing are glowsticks.
Shame I missed it.
“Could it be…” Sebastian begins, setting the tray down on the coffee table, “this type of song?”
He twirls on one foot—graceful, poised, and horrifyingly confident. His grin is disarmingly bright as his fangs catch the light. “You’re a shining star! Even if your light is small! You’re a shining star! Just join hands and look at them all! You and me, we’ll be a sensation! We’ll become a constellation!~”
My brain stalls.
We all stare in stunned silence.
What the actual fuck did I just witness?
Then the image finally registers, and I lose it.
I burst into laughter—loud, unrestrained, slapping the armrest as tears threaten to spill. “That was—Oh my Gods. Don’t ever—EVER—do that again.”
He has the audacity to look pleased with himself when he makes me laugh.
“Thank you for watching.” Sebastian says smoothly, a hand over his heart like a performer bowing after a curtain call.
“W-Why do you know it?!” Edward blurts. “Did you sneak into the concert hall?!”
“Not at all,” Sebastian replies. “I actually—”
“Excuse me!” a voice interrupts. The door creaks open.
Agni and Soma step in, the former carrying a plate stacked high with what looks like cookies. Or maybe not-cookies. They smell divine regardless.
“Would anyone like a late-night snack?” Agni asks warmly.
“Agni’s homemade sandesh are delicious!” Soma declares, mouth already full.
I shoot upright, hand raised. “Oh! Oh! Yes, please!”
Agni chuckles softly and crosses the room toward me. Soma trails behind, curious.
“Hey, hey,” Soma starts, catching Edward’s attention. “That song that the butler just sang— is it popular in England or something?”
Agni lowers the tray toward me while Soma talks. I take two sandesh and sniff curiously. It smells faintly of cheese—odd, but promising.
“What?” Edward asks, turning to Soma.
“Thanks, Agni.” I grin and take a bite. It’s surprisingly sweet, soft, and almost floral. “It’s good.” I whisper, not wanting to interrupt.
“I can cook for you anytime, Lady Rina.” Agni says with a fond look. There’s the faintest blush on his cheeks before he turns away.
When I glance toward Sebastian, he’s watching us—expression carved in ice. His passive smile falters for half a heartbeat before snapping back into place.
What’s that look about?
“When Agni and I went to the market,” Soma continues, “I kept hearing people singing it! Little kids too!”
“What? Really? Damn. I’m a bit miffed that I missed such a performance.” I admit between bites.
“Hmph. I knew it,” Ciel says, shifting his gaze to Sebastian. “Sebastian, you heard about the song from that prostitute, right?”
My stomach flips. I stiffen in my chair.
I knew she was just a brief pawn—but logic means nothing when jealousy has claws. My neck prickles with heat.
In short, I’m an emotional idiot—and Sebastian knows it.
Motherfucker.
The sandesh cracks in my grip as I clench it.
“Yes, indeed,” Sebastian’s voice slides in smoothly from my other side. Agni and he flank me now—angel and devil, each with their own flavor of menace. He smirks, pressing a finger to his lips. His eyes flick to mine for half a second. “And it seems she in turn heard it from her friend in the same profession.”
I feel my eye twitch.
“What do you mean?” Edward asks, sweatdropping.
“Currently,” Sebastian begins, tone like silk over steel, “the literacy rate amongst England’s proletariat is very low. Therefore, one can conclude that the most effective way to spread information is through oral means. However, unless it is something of great impact to them, humans will soon forget about it. So, if there were a way to more successfully allow people to remember oral information, it would be through…song.”
He’s right. I’ve seen enough pop culture to know the effect.
It’s not just music—it’s manipulation with a beat.
Sebastian’s smirk deepens as he continues, voice rich and sure. “By simply communicating words orally along with a repeating rhythm and melody, you can create a memory that is easy to recall. This is the basis and reasoning behind hymns and folk songs…they use that very logic to make dogmas and lessons easier to learn, recall, and be passed on.”
“So basically, that song was made to spread some kind of dogma?” Edward asks.
“It is very likely.” Sebastian replies.
“Hm.” Edward hums. “It didn’t seem like there were any dogmas or threatening intentions in that strange song, though. The lyrics just seemed to be all about stars and starry stuff.”
“Wow, how very analytic of you.” I tease, smirking.
Edward bristles instantly. “Shut. Up.”
I snicker into my blanket.
Rina: 1. Edward: 0.
Ciel sighs and steers the discussion back. “They could be trying to make themselves look approachable in order to gather more people. If more people gather, they’d have more business. However…” He frowns, thinking. “That congregation does not collect money. What’s more, that fortune teller Bravat is handing out pure silver bracelets for free. I can’t figure out his motives at all.”
I tilt my head, knuckle resting against my lip. “A benefactor?”
“It’s possible.” Ciel says with a hum.
“Oh!” Sebastian interjects, reaching into his jacket. “Regarding those bracelets, I gathered some great intel.”
He withdraws several, letting the silver charms dangle from his gloved fingertips—each one glinting coldly in the firelight.
“I borrowed these bracelets from the men who chased us out. I inquired around town about them.” Sebastian informs us.
I realize that’s why he took us to the bar. Not just to get me drunk. Typical.
Sebastian explains what I somehow missed. Apparently, those women draped over his arms were whispering that the bracelets grant access to a special event—an exclusive room for the chosen few.
“Only privileged people are given one then?” I ask, curious.
“It appears so. An event that requires a bracelet is interesting, though.” Ciel replies.
“Yes.” Sebastian confirms.
Ciel stares into the fireplace, its flickering light making his thoughts look heavy. “An open-access Saturday gathering for anybody, and a restricted-access event for those that have their fortune read. Perhaps Elizabeth is there…?”
I frown, clenching the blanket in my lap. “We gotta get her back.” I say, determined.
Everyone nods. The whole thing reeks of a cult, and I don’t like it—at all. I glance down at the crushed crumbs of sandesh in my lap. I wonder if this is a puzzle we can put back together. But I have a gut feeling I’m about to lose a lot of pieces.
0o0o0o0o
A day later…
A night owl hoots somewhere outside; I can hear it even through the closed window. My hearing’s sharper—it’s unsettling. I pause, staring at my warped reflection in the glass. The candle in my hand glows too bright against the pane, bending the light across my face. I look ghostlike.
I move on, ignoring what I might truly look like now.
Knocking softly, I hear Ciel call for me to enter.
Inside, Sebastian kneels before him, buttoning the last of his sleep shirt. The dim room looks almost sacred, the firelight brushing against the black fabric of Sebastian’s coat. He glances at me from the corner of his eye.
“Did you need something?” Ciel asks, looking up.
I smile faintly. “No, I just wanted to wish you a good night.”
Ciel’s expression softens, his visible eye glowing faintly. “Good night.”
I nod, about to leave, when Sebastian’s voice cuts through the quiet. “It works out that you are here as well, my lady. I’ve investigated the case as you ordered, young master.”
I wander further inside, sitting on the edge of Ciel’s bed. My candle lands on his nightstand, the flame wobbling.
“It appears that the closed event for bracelet-bearers takes place on different days of the week.” Sebastian continues.
“Different days?” Ciel asks, intrigued.
“Polaris on Mondays and Wednesdays, Vega on Tuesdays, Canopus on Thursdays, and Sirius on Fridays,” Sebastian recites smoothly. “Once you arrive at the hall, you can participate.”
“These sound like…appointments?” I murmur, brow furrowing.
Sebastian smirks faintly and rises, pulling two bracelets from his pocket. “These two are Vega and Polaris. Tomorrow is Friday…so only you, a Sirius, will be eligible. But counterfeits would be child’s play to make, so—”
“No,” Ciel interrupts, climbing into bed beside me. “Don’t do it. Everyone was going on about how ‘Sirius is rare.’ They probably already know every single bracelet-bearer.”
Sebastian hums, thoughtful. “Good point. It wouldn’t surprise me if they could see right through disguises and fakes.”
“Tomorrow I’ll go in alone and see what happens.” Ciel declares.
Sebastian draws the covers over him, smiling. “Understood. I shall wait outside on standby. Please call for me if circumstances dictate it.”
“I’ll come too,” I add softly, combing Ciel’s hair back with my fingers. “I want to make sure you’re safe.”
He sighs but leans just slightly into my touch. “Fine. We’ll all set out tomorrow and get to the bottom of this.”
I grin, relieved he agreed.
Sebastian moves through the room, blowing out candles until the shadows consume everything. I lean down, pressing a kiss to Ciel’s forehead.
“Sleep well.”
He watches me rise, his voice flat but his eyes gentle. “You too.”
When I turn, Sebastian is waiting in the doorway—my candle in hand. The light doesn’t touch him; it clings instead, swallowed by the dark around him.
I cross the room, and he opens the door just as I approach. The corridor’s light cuts through the shadows before the door shuts behind us.
Now it’s just the two of us.
Our eyes meet—tension stretching thin in the quiet hall. I’ve been avoiding him all day. He’s noticed, of course, but hasn’t tried to fix it. Not that he should have to. Still…ever since that kiss, everything feels different. Like the air itself changed.
I clear my throat, turning toward my room. “Goodnight.” I murmur.
His hand closes around my wrist before I can take a step. My breath catches. His face is unreadable, but he presses the candle into my hand.
“You may need this.” he says.
“I don’t need it…really.” Yet my fingers tighten around it instinctively.
“A human without light,” he says evenly, “is a considerably lost one.”
I flinch. “And one without darkness?”
His eyes gleam. The candle’s flame extinguishes in an instant—soundless.
“Impossible,” he murmurs. “Darkness remains, even if light is gone.”
I swallow hard. Metaphors again. Always metaphors.
“And if I said I like the darkness more than the light?” I ask.
An unnatural smirk curves his mouth, sharp and unholy. His teeth catch the moonlight.
“You’d be lying,” he says softly. “Humans always reach for light. Even if it burns them.”
“Maybe I’m not like other humans,” I shoot back, though my grip trembles. Heat pools in my neck under his stare. “Even when the light tempts me, I end up back in the dark.”
His smirk deepens. “That, my lady, is what makes you dangerous.”
“And you’re not?”
“I am darkness,” he replies, stepping closer. “Danger is only a name the light gives me.”
I lift the extinguished candle between us. “Yet, you linger more than light ever could.”
He glances at the wick, then flicks his fingers. The flame sparks back to life.
“And you,” he murmurs, “cling to darkness despite the light that surrounds you. Interesting, isn’t it?”
His mask settles back into place, the smirk turning human again. He leans in slightly, his voice low. “Go to sleep, Rina.”
I step back, heart pounding, and retreat to my room. Our exchange echoes in my mind with every step.
Despite the confusion—despite the ache—my chest feels strangely warm.
0o0o0o0o
The next night…
I stand outside the Sphere Music Hall in my boyish disguise—short jacket, cap, boots. It’s freeing to move without the world judging me. Might as well call me Peter Howell again. Ironic in appearance, considering how the Weston boys are in the hall currently I assume.
In my hand, I twirl a black feather Sebastian gave me. The cat from a few nights ago is obsessed with it. It meows up at me, tail flicking, eyes fierce.
I hold it higher. “Too slow.” I tease. The cat leaps, claws out, and lands with a soft thud. It glares at me like I’ve offended an ancient god. I grin. “Persistent little thing, aren’t you?”
A low growl hums beside me. “When will you let me hold her?” Sebastian asks, voice thick with irritation.
I glance up when he narrows his eyes into the faintest sulk.
“When I say.”
I stick my tongue out at him. That’s right. Get put into your place, asshole. This is payback.
He sighs and inches closer to my crouched body.
“Can I at least sit and watch?”
I roll my eyes.
Never in all my years have I seen this demon act like this unless it’s around cats.
“You are pathetic.” I groan at his begging. “Seriously? You’re what? One million years old? And you behave like this because of a stray cat?”
Why am I even entertaining this? I should be annoyed. But damn it—there’s something disarmingly charming about the way he sulks.
He reaches out to pet her, but I smack his hand away. His glare is sharp enough to cut glass.
“A million? Hah. You give me far too much credit, my lady. If I were that ancient, you would not be standing here so comfortably.”
“Whatever. I bet you’re like…seventy-thousand years old then.”
His eyes flash—demonic, irritated, dangerous.
“You’re lucky I’ve grown…indulgent. A demon of my status would have snapped your neck for such insolence—”
The cat jumps onto my lap before he can finish, purring after tiring from the feather game. My eyes widen and a laugh bursts out before I can stop it.
“Aw!” I beam, hugging her close. “Look how cute she is, Sebastian!”
For a second, his expression falters. His eyes soften—barely—but it’s there, a flicker of warmth beneath that porcelain calm. His hands hover near her like he’s afraid to ruin the moment.
“She compliments you,” he murmurs. “Though her claws are sharper than yours.”
I grin, pressing my cheek into the cat’s fur. I’m supposed to hate him, I think bitterly, yet here I am, cuddling a stray while he stands there looking like temptation itself in a tailcoat.
“You think so?” I say, voice gentler than I mean it to be.
He flinches, clears his throat, and regains composure. “While she may compliment you, she is the real gem in the case.”
Then, without warning, he snatches her from my arms.
“Hey!” I protest, reaching for her as she meows in fury. “Look, she likes me more. Give her back and keep your hands to yourself! You’re not supposed to fawn over a cat like a child.”
“No! She is just being the fickle creature she is!” he insists, turning away from me like a thief.
Even after that strange talk about light and darkness, he’s acting too…human. Too petulant. Too irritating.
Abruptly, the cat reaches up and drags her claw down the side of his face. He looks up suddenly with wide eyes as blood pools from the small wounds.
“He’s fallen asleep?” Sebastian mutters.
“Who?” I ask, blinking until realization hits. “My brother? You can seriously sense that? That contract thing is so odd.”
He sighs, almost annoyed, and holds the cat out at arm’s length. “It appears that the plan is going swimmingly. He’s apparently gotten himself mixed up in someone’s scheme.”
I look toward the music hall, my chest tightening. “I hope he’s okay…”
“We have no choice but to observe from here.” he says. His voice is firm, but there’s a faint shadow behind it.
I nod, exhaling a breath that doesn’t steady me at all.
“Oh?” a voice interrupts, and I turn.
“You are the Earl Phantomhive’s…and his sister?”
Abberline. Trench coat, bowler hat, little notebook. The whole detective package.
“Oh my!” Sebastian greets, his false cheer slicing through the night. The cat bolts out of his arms. “If it isn’t the man from Scotland Yard! Inspector…Underline, right?”
“It’s Abberline!”
I grin and step forward before the situation combusts. “My, it’s been awhile, Inspector! It’s nice to see you again!” I chirp sweetly. “I apologize. My butler is a bit dense, he forgets a lot of things.”
The glare I feel burns into my back is satisfying.
Abberline removes his hat, flustered. “I-It’s alright! L-Lady Phantomhive. It is a pleasure to see you again.”
Sebastian moves beside me like a shadow. “I’m just kidding,” he says smoothly. “It’s awfully late for you to still be on the clock…has there been an incident of some sort?”
Abberline hesitates, glancing around before lowering his voice. “You didn’t hear it from me, but lately some rather peculiar corpses have been turning up.”
I blink, uneasy.
“Strange…as in…?” Sebastian asks, tone darkly intrigued.
Abberline hesitates again, then meets my eyes. I apologize, my lady, for any crude language. So, brace yourself. How do I put it…they’re like works of fine art, immaculate! They have no visible wounds or scars, and they look as if they’re simply in deep sleep. One can barely even see any signs of postmortem lividity.”
My stomach turns. Beautiful corpses. The phrase itself makes my skin crawl.
“We ran background checks on the corpses that were discovered. One was a prostitute, the other a post office worker, and another a shoemaker’s assistant. So on the surface, there’s nothing linking the victims…but the other day, a certain nobleman’s daughter was added to the bodycount. And now, all of Scotland Yard is in a tizzy.”
Elizabeth. The name lodges in my throat, unspoken but heavy.
“I see,” Sebastian hums, finger to chin, that infuriating smirk curling his mouth. “So basically, up until now, the incidents were merely dismissed as random, bizarre corpses, but now that a high profile socialite has been found dead, it’s become a priority and no stone is to be left unturned. Is that right? How fascinating!”
A snort escapes me before I cough it away.
Abberline winces. “You didn’t have to put it that way…”
“Well, that’s the truth of the matter,” I say lightly. “Let’s not beat around the bush.”
He exhales and crosses his arms. “Anyway, that’s why the Scotland Yard has a lot of resources looking into the matter. If the Earl gets hold of any information, we’d like to ask for his cooperation as well.”
I raise an eyebrow, channeling my inner Fenian. “Are you sure you want the aid of such wicked aristocrats such as ourselves?” I ask. “Won’t you just be incurring the wrath of Lord Randall?”
Abberline sighs again. “Getting yelled at is a small price to pay for solving the case quickly. I might not be a fan of your methods, but we’re both working towards the same end game, the protection of the citizens.”
Sebastian actually looks mildly impressed. “I see now,” he says with a hand over his chest. “I will be sure to relay this to my master.”
Abberline begins to walk away from us and salutes. “Please do! Thanks! Oh! When you do call us, make sure to contact me directly!”
I wave after him. “We will!”
When he’s gone, the air feels too still.
“Corpses so exquisite they merely look asleep…” Sebastian muses, voice low. “Really now…”
I fold my arms, uneasy. “How is that possible? Drugs?”
He hums in thought. “I’m not entirely sure. But I am curious as to what’s going on around here.” he replies.
I sigh, tugging my hat off. “Hopefully no walking corpses this time. I’d rather deal with the pretty ones.”
He smirks, eyes gleaming. “That would be much preferred. It seems these cases could be connected.”
The words hang heavy. I narrow my eyes. “You don’t think…”
He plucks the hat from my fingers, his gloved hand brushing my skin—a soft, electric chill. He settles it back on my head, palm pressing lightly as his gaze darkens.
“Secrets taste sweeter when they ripen on their own.”
My pulse jumps. Undertaker flashes through my thoughts—his grin, his riddles. My stomach sinks.
“You hide too much for my liking.” I mutter.
“Don’t act like you hate when I spoil things.” he counters.
I pout at his point. Because he’s right. I do not like it when he’s one step ahead. And for all I know, he may know the answers to the very thing Fenian searches for.
His revenge.
But who am I to rush my brother's death?
I certainly wish to push that back as far as I can.
Even if it also kills me to know the demon before me has the answers I seek as well. I want to make sure Vincent’s and Rachel’s death is at least brought to light.
Despite how much their lives were filled with darkness.
“Rina…”
I look up—out of my thoughts when he calls my name. It curls with reverence, dare I say.
“What?”
He grins. “How does a night ride sound?”
Before I can fully lift my hand, he sweeps me into his arms. I flush immediately at the closeness.
“Sebastian! What in the Hells are you doing?!”
He chuckles, his eyes flashing in the dark.
“As I stated, we are going somewhere. Please, hold on tightly.”
“...Huh?”
Before I know it, he bends down low and rockets us into the sky.
“AHHH!” I scream in surprise, curling into his chest. “YOU KNOW HOW I FEEL WHEN YOU DO THAT!”
We shoot into the sky. My scream splits the night, his laughter echoing darkly against the wind.
0o0o0o0o
The second we touch the ground, I breathe a sigh of relief. My stomach stops doing somersaults. As much fun it is to travel via Sebastian—I find myself doubting the trust I have in him. And lately, that’s a zero.
He’s brought us to the edge of London—the forest beyond the city. It’s pitch-dark. My night vision kicks in automatically, the memory of Germany’s woods crawling down my spine.
I don’t know why we're out here. He avoided all my questions.
“Put me down!” I snap.
He obeys, smirking. My boots hit the damp earth. He keeps walking, silent, into the trees.
“Are you going to tell me why you dragged me out here?” I demand, trailing after him.
He kneels and presses a hand into the soil. The metallic scent hits me instantly. I gag and cover my nose.
“I’m sure you’ve guessed by now…” he says quietly.
I step beside him—and freeze.
A pit yawns before us. A graveyard no one intended. Skeletons half-buried. Two fresh bodies, pale and pristine as marble.
“This night keeps getting better and better.” I mutter, disgusted.
“These corpses really are far too beautiful.” he says, studying them like fine art.
And I begin to wonder, how do the dead stay in such a condition?
I swallow bile. “Pretty corpses are one thing. I’m more concerned about the cause of death.”
He sniffs the air and turns his head. “There’s more over there.”
We walk to another hollow, where more bodies and bones glint in the moonlight.
“That would be…” he murmurs, calculating. “Eighteen bodies.”
I cross my arms tightly. “That’s a lot of murders to get away with.”
Murder. Music. Fate.
What kind of sick performance is this supposed to be?
0o0o0o0o
The night breeze wraps around us as we glide back toward the Sphere Music Hall to retrieve Fenian. The moon spills over us like a spotlight—silver and cold and far too intimate. It would be romantic if Sebastian weren’t such a fucking paradox of a man—if he even counted as a man at all.
He’s been different lately. That’s what unsettles me most. The candle, the cat, that sudden gentleness threading his tone—it’s not him. Or maybe it is, and that’s the part that terrifies me.
I curl a little closer against his chest as we cut through the sky, loathing how safe it feels there. His grip is firm, possessive—protective in a way that feels almost human.
“Sebastian.” I say, needing to shatter the noise inside my own head.
He glances down, eyes glowing faintly crimson. “Yes?”
For a moment, I want to tell him to stop looking at me like that—to stop peeling me open without touching me. But what comes out is different.
“Do you ever do anything that isn’t…this?”
He blinks, unreadable.
“...‘This’?”
“You know. The mask. The perfect butler act. Hunting. Obeying. Killing.” My voice rises, half out of nerves. “Is there ever a time where you just live?”
A pause stretches, fragile as glass.
His tone lowers to that velvety drawl that both irritates and disarms me. “I observe. I wait. I decide what to take and when. That is my nature.”
His words sink heavy into the wind between us. I watch the moon carve shadows along his jaw, how even the night can’t muss his impossible hair. What does a demon do when no one’s watching? What does he become when there’s nothing left to serve or devour?
“Surely there’s more to life than that.” I murmur, almost embarrassed by how soft it sounds. I hate the tremor in my voice—it makes me sound breakable.
“More?” he repeats, tasting the word like it doesn’t belong to him. “There is no ‘more’ for what I am.” The wind shifts, brushing my cheek. “Desire, hunger, command—those are constants. We do not live, Rina.” His gaze cuts to mine, eyes pulsing faintly red in the dark. “We consume.”
That word lands deep—like a hook under my ribs. It’s too close to the truth. Too close to what I sometimes feel when he looks at me.
“You ask,” he adds softly, “as if I might wish for something different.” His smile is thin, humorless. “Perhaps that is your human curse speaking.”
The ground rises beneath us before I realize we’ve landed. The alley folds around us, dim and airless. Shadows cling like a second skin. He lowers me gently—too gently—and the click of my heels on cobblestone sounds far too loud.
He’s already walking ahead, coat trailing behind him in dark waves, when something in me refuses to let him go.
“Sebastian.”
I reach out, fingers catching the edge of his tail on his coat. The fabric is smooth and cold, like marble under moonlight. I feel stupid for doing it, but I don’t pull back.
He stills, glancing over his shoulder. His eyes glint with quiet curiosity.
“And if I grant such a wish?” I ask. My voice sounds steadier than I feel. The street beyond the alley hums faintly with life—carriages, chatter, everything moving forward while I stand still.
His smirk blooms, slow and knowing. “A demon does not wish,” he says, stepping close enough that my hand nearly brushes his chest. “But…” His tone drops, dark silk over stone. “…they can endure unprecedented actions—if they allow themselves to.”
His fingers ghost against mine before he releases me, turning toward the street’s lamplight.
I let him go. But my pulse won’t settle.
I follow him wordlessly, each step a tug-of-war between caution and curiosity. I shouldn’t be here. I know that. And yet I trail him anyway, like a fool on a leash I secretly tied myself to.
Miserable.
And—if I’m honest—maybe a little thrilled.
That thought alone disgusts me, so I crush it fast.
Sebastian flags down a carriage while we wait for Ciel’s return. I try not to fidget, but my body betrays me. The last thing he said keeps replaying in my mind—it feels like a hint, like something sharp hidden in honey.
He’s a cruel man. Through and through.
And what’s worse—I think he enjoys that I’m finally starting to notice.
