《Mark of a Witch (Black Butler/Kuroshitsuji Fanfic)》


 Prelude

    Rain fell endlessly on the tightly wedged rooftops, washing the waste and dirt from the cobblestone path and snaking a trail of filth through the streets into a dark littered alleyway. Amid the trash, a body lay curled, unable to escape the deluge of water nor the cold air that clung to her skin.


    Nameless and forgotten, she shivered as the last remnants of warmth escaped her core to flee into the stones beneath her. It became a welcome relief when a numbness erased the gnawing pain in her stomach and the chill in her bones. For hours she had laid there, the London streets bereft of anyone with a merciful eye or kind heart.


    Suddenly the newfound power to release life became hers, and she gladly began to step into Death''s domain. Through slitted eyes she watched him approach, cloaked in black, the rain blurring her vision. Her own Grim Reaper.


    As he stepped closer his beauty captured her, bringing a weary smile to her lips as she gazed up at him, blinking away the water clinging to her lashes. He returned her smile but his eyes seemed sad. What reason could possibly cause a creature of such beauty to feel anything other than unending bliss? Fingers she could no longer feel reached up at their own accord as he knelt beside her, pushing aside a dark lock of hair and stroking his alabaster cheek reverently.


    Gingerly, he placed a warm hand over hers, caressing the back of her palm with his thumb. Yet, the gentle touch did nothing to soothe the sudden sting of an unseen blade as it pierced her side, pulling her deep into the maelstrom of her own past. Vivid images, memories, began to swirl by, only stopping when she paid them attention.


    She was six again, constructing wood and grass dolls on the dirt floor of the one room cottage they called a home. A tall, fair woman, more beautiful in her young eyes than the queen herself, entered the front door carrying a pail of fresh water. Her hair, vibrantly red, was pulled up into a restricted bun with a few wayward strands gracing her cheeks. Setting it by the door, the elder wiped the sweat from her brow, and gave the child a warm smile. "Mama!" the girl squealed, jumping up to launch herself into the woman''s arms. She smelled of honey and lavender. Of home.


    Fast forward ten years to a young woman of sixteen. She stirred the contents of a simmering pot in the fireplace, turning as her mother entered the door. Her mother''s familiar smile faded as she got a better look at her daughter''s bruised cheek and split lip. "It''s nothing," the girl murmured in reply to the silent question, turning so her own red hair shadowed her face. Concern gave evidence to the beginnings of crow''s feet around the elder''s emerald eyes as she brushed aside her daughter''s hair to examine more closely. "A little arnica liniment will fix that right up," she whispered, fingers tracing the bruise, a tight worried smile trying to lighten the situation.


    Fast forward yet again to a nearer future with both mother and daughter sitting comfortably in their small cramped abode. Both sat in front of a crackling hearth fire, invested in the tattered books they each held like precious jewels. An abrupt pounding at the door shattered the calm, causing both mother and daughter to jump and turn. "Adeline Vanguard! Open this door!" The very walls of the cottage shook as the pair clung to each other in terror. A deafening crash sounded as the door burst inward, making way for a group of wild eyed villagers. "Witch," the leader growled, grabbing the elder''s arm in a bruising hold. "Mother!" the daughter wailed, unable to stop as they were ripped apart in a flurry of angry emotions.The narrative has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the infringement.


    The scene changed to a town square at night, filled with the hateful eyes of village onlookers. The girl screams wordlessly, clawing at her captors as they drag her to stand at the crowd''s edge. A single man in priest robes holds her in an iron grip, forcing her to watch as they lash her mother to a pyre. Leaning down, the stubble on his chin scratches her ear as he whispers, "Watch what happens to witches girl." The words echo in her mind as the fire is set free to eagerly lick the wood. And then the screaming began...


    It was the screams that pulled her out of the playback of her memories. Hate, strong and hot lent her the use of her limbs as she wrenched free of Death''s grip, pulling away to crawl backwards.


    Shock registered clearly on his features, making him slow to respond. "No," she spat out through clenched teeth, blood flecking her lips with each ragged breath. With a strength that didn''t seem to belong to her she lifted her broken body onto shaking legs, stepping deeper into the alleyway as Death reached for her. "I''m not ready yet," she declared, shaking her head at the allure of his outstretched hand.


    A brick wall, declaring the alley''s end, hit her back and despair clutched at her throat, burning her eyes. She could feel another presence in the air, mocking her with its silent eyes. "Help me," she pleaded to it, her voice a whisper as Death stepped inevitably closer. "HELP ME, DAMN YOU!" she screamed, her hoarse voice breaking on the words. Arms wrapped around her from behind, pulling her back into the wall. The last things she recognized before the enveloping darkness was the angry scowl of Death and the velvet words whispered against her ear, "Allow me, my lady."


    ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~


    Weightless, she floated in a black void. Gone was the pain and panic.Was this death?The thought was interrupted by a silky voice, masculine in nature, that resonated all around her, breaking the silence. "Annabel Vanguard," it named, catching her attention. "You seek retribution." It had been a statement but she found her voice answering an unwavering, "Yes." She felt oddly devoid of the fear that had plagued her these many months.


    "Let us then, strike a bargain," the faceless voice continued, "You have but to name your wish."


    The image of her mother, engulfed in flames, passed through her mind''s eye. "I wish for the power and means to personally destroy those who destroyed me and mine." Rage laced her words, making the words sound foreign to her own ears.


    "Very well," the voice answered, "I will do this you ask, for the price of your soul." Her soul? Demon. The words undoubtedly gave way to a certain apprehension until she heard once again, her mother''s screams echoing in her head. What good had her soul ever done her?


    "So be it," she answered, "I accept."


    At the completion of her words, a searing pain enveloped the nape of her neck, racing along her nerve endings to every piece of her body, causing her back to arch in spasms. Slowly the burning pain receded, leaving her limp, still floating in the endless void. Eyes, red as blood, entered her vision before he spoke again. "Rest, my lady. It is done. Rest." His words brought back the darkness and she succumbed.

 Intriguing Introductions

    September 2, 1695


    Forest of Dean, 7:14 AM


    Sunlight that bespoke an early dawn sank gently into the room, languidly stretching across the mahogany floors like a great leviathan, consuming the darkness that dared linger and giving greater life to the opulence that had been so enslaved. Golden carvings inlaid into dark wood furnishings lent the room a certain lavish air. Crisp white walls further illuminated the interior as the sun slowed in its devouring conquest, crawling up and over a four poster bed that rested against the opposite wall. Its rays breathed life into the sole inhabitant, bringing movement to the still linens.


    Subtle warmth stirred her from a dreamless slumber, yet she burrowed deeper, clinging desperately to the last vestiges of peace. When it proved too elusive, she sighed in defeat, rolling to face the inevitable day. As sudden as the breath of life, crystal clarity broke through her hazy mind, shattering the illusion of sleep. Annabel shot up in the bed, eyes wide as the room came into focus. What is this place? How did I come to be here? The room was more lavish than anything she had seen all her relatively short life.


    Quick shallow breaths made the room spin as panic threatened to take hold of her befuddled brain. Mentally berating herself, she gripped the coverlet, forcing slow, steady breaths to cleanse her lungs and mind. Last night... I can''t remember last night.


    The revelation was chilling, but before she could search her mind further a single door to her left opened, causing an instinctive scramble from the bed. Her legs tangled in the sheets and her mad dash left her toppling to the floor, away from the intruder. She landed in a graceless heap much to her chagrin, kicking away the sheets with haste.


    Tentatively, Annabel peered over the mattress edge, watching as a tall lean figure pushed in a handcart that was laden with tea and pastries. She glanced further up to assess the man himself, taking in his immaculate attire.


    He wore black fitted breeches and a simple, silver buttoned waistcoat. White lace dripped from his sleeves and spilled from his throat. The colors merely accentuated his pale skin and black hair which currently covered his face. When he lifted his gaze to meet hers she gasped, feeling as though all the air had left her body. His eyes, a piercing shade of red, brought her memories slamming into her full force. Those haunting eyes that watched and waited ever patiently as she waded through the images. Reminded her of the bargain she had made.


    "You," she breathed out. A barely perceptible smile was his answer as he turned to the cart. "Tea, my lady?" he questioned, pouring a cup before she could answer. Using the bed as support she stood up and looked down at herself for the first time. A white lace nightgown flowed from high on her neck down to her ankles. Modest, yet elegant.


    A strange acceptance seemed to wash over her as she turned to watch what she could only guess was a demon, preparing her tea. At the thought a laugh bubbled up from her throat to spill from her lips. She clamped a hand over her mouth when he turned to look at her quizzically, but it only gave way to more laughter until she was holding her sides and leaning against the bedpost, gasping for air as the fit took its toll. She couldn''t be sure whether she was gripped by madness or shock but it kept her from panicking.


    Finally, out of breath, and feeling better than she had in ages, she walked around the bed to the tea cart, ignoring the questioning look and instead, taking the proffered tea. She sat down, at the bed''s end, inhaling the aroma of peppermint as she brought the delicate china cup to her lips. Sipping lightly, she sighed as the soothingly sweet concoction eased down her throat, warming her from the inside out.


    She held the cup close to her lips so she could still enjoy its scent while she watched her "savior". He too, watched her with an interested gaze, obviously waiting to see what her next move would be. As the comfortable silence stretched she took another sip and took the time to observe his handsome features. High cheekbones, fair skin, dark hair. In another world perhaps she would have held favor for him. Even those red eyes held a certain allure.


    "So, demon," she began, breaking the silence and bringing a twinkle to his eye, "What shall I call you?" His head bowed in a subservient manner before speaking, "Whatever would please you, my lady." Her lips thinned into a disapproving line. The thing couldn''t just give her a name by which to call him? She tapped the cup with her right forefinger as she eyed him.


    "Sebastian, then," she finally declared, thrusting the now empty cup back to him. He nodded his assent as he returned the cup to its place. He would no doubt be less amicable to the name choice if he knew her reason.


    Sebastian had been the name of the stray black cat she had once taken in. It made him seem less intimidating. Less of a demon in her eyes. "Now then, Bastian," she began shortening the name, "I shall get properly attired and then I want to speak with you about this entire... situation," she concluded, emphasizing her point by gesturing about the room to everything at once.


    "As you wish, my lady," he answered, stepping back to the doorway but tactfully leaving the cart that held the sweet bread and jam. When the door was shut she let out a heavy sigh and ran anxious fingers through her messy hair. Well this is an odd affair. Not to mention, he was strangely subservient for a demon. Not what she would''ve expected at all.


    Stepping towards the cart, she retrieved a crescent roll and smothered it in the strawberry preserves that sat beside. An involuntary groan left her lips as she bit into the sweet and savory mixture of heaven. She ate the first roll in mere moments, then a second even quicker before her hunger eased. Arranging a third, she turned to survey her surroundings a bit closer as she ate.


    She walked to the armoire that sat nestled between the two far windows. Upon opening its door, a number of fine garments graced her eyes. Stuffing the rest of the roll in her mouth, she made sure her fingers were clean before letting her fingers run over the rich fabrics, each one more luxurious than the last. Finally, she chose the simplest dress she could find. A satin fabric in dark forest green with ivory lace trim that complemented her eyes.


    Removing the nightgown took longer than originally estimated as she fussed with each button. Pulling it up and over her head, she ran cursory eyes over her form. Pink scar tissue stretched along her side and wandering fingers ran over a line that was as long as her hand. The touch made her wince as she remembered the feel of Death''s blade. It now appeared to be months old and fully healed. The same fingers toured up to run along her ribs which had started to show, then down to pointed hip bones.


    Changing quickly, she turned to the ivory framed mirror that hung above the vanity table and cringed internally at the sight. The dress was beautiful but she had become so malnourished that she was unable to fill it properly. Square cut from her shoulders, her collarbones were overly prominent. The sleeves ended at her elbows, exposing her forearms and fragile wrists. The bodice, even laced up fully, still appeared somewhat loose on her frame. Her eyes, once vibrant, now sat in dark sunken circles that rested on hollowed cheeks. At least her hair hadn''t changed.The tale has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.


    The curly mess of tangles surrounded her head like a fiery halo. A silver handled brush sat on the table and she began the slow work of raking through to obtain some semblance of order. She winced as the bristles inadvertently ran across the back of her neck, causing pain.


    Curious fingers probed the sensitive area which was raised and bumpy. Lifting the matching silver hand mirror, she turned this way and that to get a view of what injury she had sustained. She glimpsed what appeared to be a tattoo, black and bold against her skin. A five pointed star surrounded by a circle and then a circle of spikes outside that. The devil''s mark.


    Perhaps I am a witch now after all.


    The thought made her smile. Using pins from inside the table she pinned the hair back from her face, allowing the curling waves to fall over her back and hide the mark for now. Thus prepared, Annabel Vanguard stood and stepped to the door, ready to face her demon.


    --------------------------------


    "-but most of all, I shall act as a teacher, protector, and servant until our contract is fulfilled," Bastian finished. He stood stone still, face solemn, and features unreadable with his hands clasped behind his back. The man had spent the last hour explaining the intricacies of their contract.


    Annabel however, paced relentlessly in front of the great stone fireplace that dominated the study. There were too many questions for her mind to untangle.


    The demon itself was an enigma that she was unsure how to handle. He seemed like nothing more than a man but there was an occasional inhuman glance or movement but only when she studied him. And then there was the matter of payment. Her soul. Had she been too hasty in promising it to him? No, she would pay anything for her vengeance.


    Sighing, she stopped and lowered herself into one of the two wing chairs that sat in front of the cold hearth. Already, her body felt fatigued and worn down and the sun hadn''t even gained full height. Her head dropped to her hands as she attempted to regain focus.


    "My lady?" Bastian intoned, surprising her when his voice portrayed his close proximity. She slowly lifted her eyes to find him but a foot away, kneeling down, with a cup of tea in hand.


    "I am not thirsty Bastian," she replied, leaning back into the chair cushions to place some air between them.


    "It is not meant for your thirst but for strength, my lady," he replied unmoved, holding it out further to her, his eyes urging her to take the offering. She took the cup in one hand, then quickly steadied it with the other as it shook in her grasp. Pathetic. I have become weaker than I imagined. Carefully, she lifted the cup to her lips, taking a tentative taste. It was bitter, overlaid with a slight sweetness but she recognized the flavors.


    "Ginseng," she noted. "Thank you, Bastian." He nodded in reply and stepped back. Taking a larger draft of the drink, she turned to look out the window at the falling leaves. Autumn was well under way, painting the ground in a myriad of colors.


    "What is the significance of the mark upon my neck?" she asked distractedly, not facing him with the question.


    "It is the symbol of our contract," Bastian replied. "It connects us. I hope you don''t mind that I took the liberty of placing it upon your neck young mistress."


    "Connects us?" she prompted, turning her gaze to him. Wordlessly, he lifted his right hand to his mouth, clenching the fingers of his white glove between his teeth in a captivatingly sensual manner. Slowly, his hand slipped free, revealing the black symbol beneath.


    A tattoo, much like her own, adorned the back of his hand. Before her eyes, the mark began to glow as Bastian flexed his fingers. Simultaneously, she felt a warmth radiating from her own mark on the nape of her neck.


    "Connected indeed," she murmured, reaching back to graze the mark with her fingertips. Bastian relaxed his hand and allowed the symbol to fade to black. Returning the glove to his hand, he resumed his manner.


    "Would you like a tour of the estate, my lady?" Bastian questioned when she turned to look back outside.


    The thought wasn''t an unwelcome one but she needed some time to herself. His constant hovering was doing nothing for her nerves. But she wasn''t about to let him know that.


    "I am more than capable of showing myself about, Bastian," she replied setting her tea cup on the side table and firmly rising to her feet. The ginseng helped the movement appear strong.


    "Of course, my lady. I shall go now and prepare dinner. Merely call out should you need anything." He gave a deep bow before stepping back to the double doors and exiting the room.


    Annabel released the breath that had filled her lungs so tight it had held her torso straight, expelling the air in a sudden whoosh. Fingers, shaky with ginseng and nerves, ran over her face and up, through her hair. What am I doing? She turned to look out of the window, watching a leaf float languidly down. Time still moved even though she felt suspended outside of it.


    Pulling away from her musings she walked to the doors, sliding through the opening Bastian had left. Stepping into the hallway, a pair of black laced riding boots, scarf, gloves and a green cloak waited for her on a chair against the opposite wall.


    Who knew demons possessed all the qualities of a perfect butler? Once she was appropriately attired she followed the hall to what appeared to be the front door. Learning the inside of the house could come later. First, she yearned to get out into some fresh air.


    Leaves crunched beneath her boots as she stepped outside between a set of cracked pillars. A light breeze chilled her cheeks but the clothes she wore kept her wonderfully warm. From the front door there was an inlaid stone path that led to what may have once been opulent gardens.


    A wide fountain, empty of water sat in the middle of the walkway with galloping horses in the center, overtaken by thorny vines. Other statues were scattered about the empty courtyard area, all various animals some cracked, others in pieces. She supposed it had once been an opulent garden but without care it had become a wild barren place.


    Turning, she cast her gaze over the weathered stone manor. It was grander than anyplace she had lived prior, fit for a lord or wealthy merchant. Although it had obviously been lacking in upkeep in recent years.


    Continuing to walk she came upon large empty stables and more signs of abandonment. There was a small pond around back that miraculously still housed fish with scales that glistened like jewels. They were beautiful, swimming about in a rainbow of colors. Annabel sat on the pool''s edge as she mused about the path unfolding before her.


    Somehow she would need to bring down her mother''s killers. It had been locals from her village, yes, but they would have never acted without outside influence. Still, they would pay. They would all pay.


    "My lady," a voice sounded, no more than a foot behind her. Annabel jumped in spite of herself, turning to eye the man with a glare.


    "You have got to stop doing that," she snapped, her green eyes sparking with her irritation. Bastian merely gave a respectful bow.


    "Forgive me milady," he spoke, his voice smooth and demure, sliding against her skin like warm silk, "I am merely here to ensure you do not catch a cold, you should come back inside and rest before dinner young mistress."


    A part of her wanted to refuse him just for the sake of it but he was right. It was pointless for her to overdo it as she recovered. With a slight nod in answer, Annabel stood, giving the fish a final look before turning to walk back to the manor.


    Sebastian trailed closely behind her and she tried to quell the unease and goosebumps his presence brought. He opened the door for her and she stepped inside, overwhelmed by the warmth that seemed to splash her in the face. Without words he was peeling the cloak back from her shoulders and hanging it up. Then he was knelt down in front of her, moving so fast that she hadn''t even seen him. It was disconcerting to say the least but something she would have to grow accustomed to.


    Bastian glanced up at her as he reached for the laces at her boots. "Please allow me young mistress," he spoke, looking back down as he untied and loosened the laces in quick order. She hadn''t even had a chance to refuse before he was lifting a leg by her calf to slip the boot free. Swaying she instinctively gripped his shoulders, feeling a heat suffuse her cheeks. How dare he touch her in such a familiar manner?!


    Her mouth dropped open but the words were stuck in her throat. He quickly repeated the move with her other boot and then he was on his feet. Whatever she had been planning to say fled as her hands slipped from his shoulders and he towered over her, his presence consuming.


    "If you would like to rest in the library," he began, gesturing down the hall, "I can bring you some refreshments and snacks before dinner." She could''ve sworn when he turned that there was a slight smirk on his lips. It was infuriating.


    Turning on her heels, Annabel walked towards the door he had pointed out, her lips pressed in a thin line. "Bring more of those pastries," she ordered without turning back, her back stiff.


    "As you wish my lady," was his reply.

 Testing the Waters

    September 2, 1695


    Forest of Dean, 2:26 PM


    Upon entering the library, Annabel''s jaw dropped. Book lined the wall mounted shelves, more books than she''d ever seen. Her mother had taught her to read, a rare skill for a young woman outside of the nobility, but books were expensive. They were reserved for the wealthy, so they had only had a few tattered paper bound copies, all related to botany and the healing arts since her mother had been a midwife. This before her was a veritable treasure trove and she was astonished that they were still here. They could be worth more than the manor itself.


    Taking tentative steps forward, Annabel''s fingers reached out to graze over the thick leather bound spines that were closest. Surprisingly they were dust free although it was clear that this place had been abandoned for some time. Actually, come to think of it, despite the hints of disrepair, everything she had seen inside had been immaculate.


    Of their own volition, her fingers gripped one of the volumes at the top of the spine, pulling it free from its perch. It was heavier than she expected and, facing the cover towards herself, her other hand ran over the gilded letters embossed on the hard leather spine. Milton''s Paradise Lost. Opening it gently, the first page held a beautiful illustration, the ink a deep rich color on the fine paper. Numbly she walked to the nearby single-armed chaise, setting herself down on the rich red velvet material before tucking her feet beneath her and then losing herself in the pages.


    The sound of a throat clearing broke her from her immersion and she looked up, startled yet again to see Sebastian standing nearby with a tea cart beside him. "Honestly Bastian, perhaps you should wear a bell," she remarked in agitation and the corner of his lips quirked again in a sinfully attractive smirk.


    "Apologies again young mistress," he spoke and she hated how much she enjoyed hearing his voice although the way he addressed her was peculiar. She was in no way deserving of any titles be it lady or mistress. "However, I did knock before entering," he continued, turning to pick up the small painted teapot, pouring a measure of tea into one of the delicate cups.


    He had? "Oh," was her soft reply. She hadn''t heard a thing but it was quite possible since she tended to block out the world with her single minded focus at times. Annabel gently closed the book, pushing herself off of the arm of the chaise and letting her feet touch the ground as she sat up.


    The cart was indeed laden with similar pastries from earlier as well as delicate finger sandwiches. A smile crossed her face at the thought of him arranging them so perfectly neat on the tray. For a demon he was rather talented. After setting down the teapot, he picked up the cup and saucer and held them out to her. As she reached for them, careful to avoid touching him, she noted how how long his fingers were beneath the white gloves. A faint citrus scent tickled her nose as she pulled the cup closer, inhaling the scent of what she knew to be earl grey.


    Her eyes traveled upwards over his form as she took a sip, moving over the long arms and then to his lean chest. Faintly, she tried to recall the feel of how those arms had wrapped around her from behind when she had faced death but the memory was hazy and unfocused. "How did you find me?" she suddenly asked, lowering the teacup to its saucer with a faint clink. He was rearranging the items on the tea cart and appeared completely unphased by her question.


    "Are you sure you would like to know my lady?" he asked, amusement lacing his words as his red eyes subtly shifted in her direction. It was a chilling reminder of what he was but she kept her face impassive, setting the saucer down on the end table beside the chaise before leaning back. What could possibly be so shocking about his answer? As if reading the confirmation in her eyes, he nodded, picking up a small plate of pastries.


    "Everyone''s soul has a distinct... scent," he finally responded, his red eyes sparking with a subtle glow that made her eyes widen in instinctive alarm. He stepped closer, bending slightly at the waist to set down the plate he held while his other hand came to rest on the arm of the chaise beside her. His face, somehow strong yet delicate, drew even nearer and she forgot how to breath, feeling much like a cornered rabbit. "Yours is an intoxicating blend of suffering, innocence and bloodlust all wrapped in one," he spoke, a predatory gleam in his glowing eyes, and she swallowed hard as he inhaled deeply. "I could smell you from miles away," he practically purred, his voice bordering on sensual.


    Abruptly he righted himself, back to being the picture of perfect subservience and she drew in a ragged breath. Her face felt hot and her head light as he stepped back to the cart. "Dinner shall be ready in a few hours my lady. Please do not hesitate to call out should you need anything," he spoke and his sudden change in demeanor was like a whiplash to her emotions. She couldn''t keep her eyes off of his form as he pushed the cart out before turning to pull the door closed behind him, his knowing eyes meeting hers for a brief moment before he was hidden from view.


    Shakily, she brought a hand up to her chest, feeling how her heart clamored noisily in her chest. There weren''t words that she knew that could adequately describe the inner turmoil that lurked beneath her skin and she pressed herself deeper into the cushions, leaving the book shut as her mind raced. All she could do to keep her grounded was focus on the motivation behind the bargain she had made. The faces of the villagers and then that of the priest who had whispered into her ear flashed in her mind. But it went further than that. The Catholic church was the one who sent out its minions, murderers hiding behind the robes of their faith. They all deserved to burn.


    She finally went back to the book, now looking through the illustrations scattered throughout. The reading of it was interesting, but there were many words that she didn''t know. As her eyes soaked in the images of angels and demons she couldn''t help but wonder on their accuracy. Was this what Sebastian''s true form looked like?


    The hours passed by rather quickly and this time when he knocked her head lifted and she cleared her throat, "Enter," she called. The doors opened and she stood, placing the book where she had sat.


    "Dinner is served my lady," he spoke and she walked out, following him down the hallway that opened up to a large dining room dominated by a massive table. Along the side wall there was a hearth that held a crackling fire, warming the room. At the nearest head of the table there was a place set and her mouth watered at the scent that filled her nose.


    Sebastian pulled out her chair and then slid it beneath her as she sat, pressing her near to the table''s edge before laying a napkin across her lap. A metal cloche covered her plate and he lifted it, revealing thick cuts of meat resting in a bed of sauce as well as fresh green beans and roasted fingerling potatoes. "Roasted duck in a red wine sauce my lady," he spoke, setting the metal dome to the side before picking up an open bottle of wine and pouring it into a beautiful clear wine glass.


    There were more utensils around the plate than seemed necessary and her hand reached forward hesitantly for a fork, unsure which of the four forks in front of her she was supposed to use. As her hand hovered uncertainly she could feel Sebastian''s presence step closer. "If I may, my lady?" he questioned, bowing slightly and gesturing to the utensils in front of her. Pulling her hand back into her lap she nodded, feeling embarrassment tighten her jaw at her obvious lack of culture.


    Unexpectedly, he stepped behind the chair she sat in, gloved hands reaching forward on either side of her body and she stiffened. He gave no acknowledgment to her discomfort, instead pulling a particular fork from the left and a knife from the right closer. "These are what are used for main courses," he spoke, his words warm against the side of her neck making her stomach clench. Picking up first her left hand, he pressed the fork into her fingers, showing her the proper way to grip and then followed suit with the knife in her right hand. Then, covering both her hands with his own, he demonstrated how to elegantly slice through the meat. All she could think of was how near he was, the warmth of his hands through the gloves, and how he smelled like bergamot and something she couldn''t quite put her finger on.


    When he released her to step back to the side, Annabel felt like a child again beneath his watchful gaze and she had to concentrate to keep her fingers from trembling as she repeated the move, albeit the move was jerkier than his had been. Still, he nodded and she stabbed her fork through the meat to bring it to her lips. Flavor exploded on her tongue and she couldn''t help but close her eyes at the taste, the meat practically melting as she chewed. "This is..." she drawled out opening her eyes, "Excellent." He bowed his head subtly in thanks.Love what you''re reading? Discover and support the author on the platform they originally published on.


    It took every ounce of willpower for her not to lose composure and eat in a hurried manner as she once might have. If he hadn''t watched her she undoubtedly would have. However, from their discussion from this morning, he had made it clear that part of her training would be to mold her into a refined woman. Apparently, there may be times in their pursuit of her revenge where the skills would come into play. She didn''t see how at the moment but she wouldn''t question it for now. And so she slowly continued the meal. When she set down the utensils and reached for her wine glass he cleared his throat and she rolled her eyes. There was a right and wrong way to hold a glass?


    He stepped forward and moved her hand from clutching the well of the glass to having her fingers delicately holding the stem of the glass. In her opinion this only made the risk of spilling more prominent but she didn''t argue. He suddenly spoke, breaking the gentle silence between them as he released her hand, "Tomorrow other servants will arrive to clean up the estate and handle some of the menial tasks." Other servants?


    "Human servants?" she asked, taking a tentative sip of her wine. The answering smile that tugged at his lips made her feel foolish for asking but he merely answered, "Yes, they shall be human. And unaware of your true origins." Her brow arched at that and she took a second, larger sip of her wine, waiting for him to elaborate.


    "Officially, this land was recently purchased by a french Vicomte by the name of Jacques Vanguard," he began, and she wondered how he could have managed to create fictional nobility. Undoubtedly, the wealth he had somehow procured to purchase this land had quieted any questioning mouths. "As his only child, you have traveled with him to England to experience the high society as he travels around the country to manage various business dealings and affairs. We shall have to integrate you into societal events, perhaps as seeking a suitable husband," Annabel nearly choked at the last part, swallowing down her mouthful of wine and quickly placing the glass back upon the table.


    Cutting him a scathing look, she turned back to her food, picking back up her utensils and picking at her sides. She wanted to eat more but her eyes were larger than her shrunken stomach. With a sigh she placed the knife and fork back on the plate and sat back in the seat, processing his words. So she would have to play a character. The thought alone was exhausting. Lifting the napkin from her lap she set it beside her plate before shifting to rise. In an instant he was there, pulling her chair back.


    "I''ve had enough of this day," she spoke plainly, the weariness evident in her tone.


    "Shall I draw you a bath?" he asked and the idea was certainly tempting although she felt she had never been cleaner than she was now. In her prior life, she had always washed herself in the stream near her home, never had she had a proper bath. Allowing herself to nod reluctantly, she followed him as he led her out, back to the bedroom she had awoken in. As if he had guessed her answer, there was an empty wooden tub sitting in front of the hearth which also had a fire blazing. How did he accomplish so much without her noticing?


    Stepping into the room she turned only to find he had gone. The room was pleasantly warm and she walked to the foot of her bed, unsure of herself. Before she could question her next move further, Sebastian returned, carrying a massive handled basin filled with water. He held it with unparalleled strength, the steaming water hardly rippling as he walked in towards the hearth, pouring it gently to fill the tub in front of the fire. There was no way a human man could have even lifted that, much less carried it with such unbothered ease. "I shall gather the soaps and oils, my lady," he spoke as he walked back to the open doorway, "Feel free to prepare yourself for the bath."


    Shock at his words colored her cheeks but he was already gone. Surely he didn''t mean for her to strip. Crossing her arms, she sat herself on the bed''s edge allowing her unease to morph into pouting defiance. He returned, barely glancing at her as he carried a tray with jars and a square bar of soap. A cloth was draped over his arm and he set both the tray and cloth on a wooden stool that he then placed by the basin before turning in her direction.


    "Shall I unlace your dress, my lady?" he questioned, his face and voice annoyingly impassive. Was this normal behavior for male servants? The thought made her uneasy and her crossed arms loosened but then she caught sight of the mirthful gleam in his eye and cursed herself inwardly. He was trying to get a rise out of her, to throw her off balance. Damnable demon. Swallowing, she tried to suppress the flush in her cheeks.


    "I am perfectly capable of undressing myself Sebastian, you may leave," she spoke, grateful for how even her voice sounded. He gave a nod and then turned, walking out and shutting her door behind him. Releasing a heavy sigh she glanced at the door before rising from the bed and loosening the laces of her dress. It slid free of her body easily and she ignored the sight of herself in the vanity mirror. The sheer shift she wore went next and then she slid her fingers into her hair to pull out the pins she had placed this morning.


    Cautiously approaching the tub''s edge she dipped her fingers into the warm water, eyeing the oil bottles with uncertainty. Raising her leg she placed her foot in the water, hissing at how hot it was but not giving herself a chance to back out. She could practically feel her skin turning red but she lifted in her other foot, bracing her hands on either side of the tub''s edge. Lowering herself into the heat she groaned as the water completely covered her small frame until she was sitting on the bottom. She''d never felt anything like it. It was phenomenal. Resting her head back, she took a moment to soak in the heat of the water, closing her eyes.


    Every stress and anxiety seemed to seep from her pores and into the water around her. Her mother would have loved this. The thought tore at her heart for the barest of moments before she pushed it back. She had cried herself hoarse countless times until there was nothing left in the past six months and the time for crying was done. She couldn''t right the wrong but she would avenge it and perhaps save others from the same fate.


    Turning her gaze she lifted an arm from the water and reached for the soaps and oils, taking the time to clean herself and fragrance her hair with the scent of honeysuckle. The water was turning cold when she finally rose to step free of the basin, using the cloth he had left to dry her skin even as the fire helped to dry her as well. Wringing out what she could of her hair she moved to the armoire and pulled out a similar nightgown she''d worn the previous night. It was no sooner over her neck and buttoned when a knock sounded at the door.


    Not even bothering to question how he knew, Annabel called out to him, "Enter Sebastian." His gaze took her in before walking to the basin, picking it back up to take who knows where. When he returned, she had dried her hair as best as she could with the towel and set it back on the tray of soaps and oils. It was easy to forget sometimes what he was when he appeared so domestic, quickly wiping up the remnants of water from the floor before gathering the tray and exiting again.


    Annabel lowered herself in the chair that sat in front of the small vanity, suddenly realizing that the front of her nightgown had turned sheer as it soaked up water from her wet hair. She saw him enter the room again, his gaze meeting hers in the mirror and she jerked her hands up to cover her chest. His gaze flickered down slightly causing her cheeks heated. She hated first, how she had reacted, and second, how easily her emotions were manipulated. He had been walking towards the bed to gather her discarded dress but she watched as he shifted direction and walked to stand behind her.


    His crimson eyes held hers as he leaned over her and she clutched her chest tighter. However, he merely picked up the brush that lay on the vanity and began to gently run it through her hair. "What are you doing?" she asked incredulously and his head tilted, his eyed amused.


    "I''m brushing your hair, my lady," he answered simply, breaking from her gaze as he pulled the long wet strands back over her shoulders, causing her to bite back on whatever scathing reply had been dancing on her tongue. It actually felt rather pleasant and it gave her an opportunity to study his features while his gaze was fixed on her hair. He had shown a bit of himself to her earlier in the library and she couldn''t help but wonder about him. Did he have emotions like a human man or was it all just for show?


    "Seems like quite alot of work for a soul," she began, seeing the slight crinkle around his eyes, hinting at his amusement.


    "You sell yourself short young mistress," he began, setting her brush down before weaving his fingers into her hair. He began to braid, looping her hair around in intricate patterns before he spoke again, "Besides, the anticipation of it is half the prize my lady. All good things come to those who wait after all." Annabel gave a slight hmm in reply as if pondering his words. She knew they would be kept from being quite as frank with each other when the servants arrived tomorrow so this was her chance to ask what she liked. As if he too recognized that fact, Sebastian took his time weaving her hair.


    A part of her wanted to know what would happen to her when he finally took his prize but another part of her decided it would be best not to think of it. She wanted to block out that undoubtedly horrific future. So instead she asked the other question that had been nagging at her, "When will we begin?"


    Sebastian twirled his hand and suddenly the braids wound over her head like a crown and he picked up her discarded pins, securing it in place before meeting her gaze, "As I said my lady, all good things come to those who wait." There was a semblance of that hunger there and his lips twisted into a subtle smile, "We shall begin your lessons tomorrow, expect a full day." His answer was aggravatingly obtuse but she was curious to see what sort of lessons he had in mind.


    He moved to close all her curtains, the only light in the room from the warm glow of the fireplace. Then he picked up her dress and turned down her sheets. "Sleep well," he imparted, walking for the door. He closed it without a second glance back and she stayed seated eyeing her hair as she thought about what was to come. Perhaps it would be better to draw it out. She did after all, want the ends of those responsible to be memorable ones.


    Rising, Annabel crossed to the bed, slipping beneath the warm feather down covers. Not to mention, she could take the time to enjoy these extravagant luxuries that she''d never before known. Yes, drawing it out would be better she resolved to herself, pressing deeper into the soft pillows.

 Lessons Learned

    September 3, 1695


    Forest of Dean, 7:02 AM


    Annabel awoke to the sound of light knocking upon the door. Emerald green eyes fluttered open in vague confusion to see the door begin to swing inwards, a tea cart preceding Sebastian''s entry.


    "Good morning my lady," he greeted demurely, allowing the door to shut behind him before he began to prepare her tea. Demon. Sebastian. Butler. Contract. The words flitted through her awakening mind as she gained her bearings. Sitting up slowly, Annabel took a moment to gain her bearings, hiding a yawn behind her palm as she rested her back against the headboard.


    "Good morning Sebastian," she finally replied, glancing to the curtain covered window to see the morning light trying to break through. Turning back to the impeccably dressed butler, she watched as he elegantly poured tea into a cup and then held it out. He was dressed exactly the same as yesterday and she made no move as he held the proffered teacup with unnatural stillness, studying him with a calculating gaze. It should''ve been a sin to look so good. Maybe it was.


    Finally she reached for the cup and saucer, placing it atop her lap. Lifting the china, she was pleasantly surprised by the taste awaiting her. Licorice and cinnamon greeted her in a spicy sweet mixture, warming her from the inside out. She hummed lightly in a tone of approval and Sebastian turned to stride to the far side of the room.


    He opened the towering wardrobe, quickly pulling out a deep blue dress with thick skirts and then a shimmering laced bodice designed to go atop. Annabel''s eyebrows raised as he brought the garments, as well as a shift, back to the foot of the bed, laying them out before her. He was being awful presumptuous. Her eyes widened when he also dared to lay out a set of undergarments, her cheeks reddening as he handled the fabric with exaggerated delicacy.


    Taking another sip of the hot tea to bite back a scathing comment, Annabel tried to ignore the way he moved so gracefully and the commanding air he held. With graceful strides he moved to each window to fling open her curtains, the bright light making her swear colorfully as it pierced her eyelids. Turning back to face the wall and the cart, she was disappointed when she noticed that their were no pastries this morning.


    As if reading her mind Sebastian spoke, "Breakfast shall be in the dining room. After which I shall introduce you to your new staff." Annabel nodded, fighting the urge to chew at her lip as he walked back to stand beside the cart. "Shall I assist you with your garments my lady?" he asked, his voice seeming genuine but his red eyes mischievous.


    "Out Bastian," she replied flatly, taking another sip of the tea, refusing to meet his gaze but unable to miss the way his lips turned up from the corner of her eye. He inclined his head, pulling the tray out with him until the door closed with a subtle click. Annabel leaned back against the headboard, trying to savor the tea while it remained hot before letting out a sigh. Setting the cup and saucer on the nightstand, she threw back the covers and placed her bare feet on the chilled wood floor.


    Ignoring the cold bite on the balls of her feet, she walked around the bed poster to eye the clothes he had laid out. Just like yesterday, they were so beautiful and fine that it made her hesitant to even touch them. Stripping herself down she pulled on the undergarments then the shift. They were soft against her skin and she couldn''t help but wonder how much they had cost.


    The deep blue dress was cumbersome and when she finally had it on, it felt as though it weighed her down. She neglected to don the petticoats that had been on the hangar with it and ran her fingers over the smooth satin fabric. The neckline seemed to swoop down and out, exposing her upper chest and shoulders. The arms came just past her elbows and the bit of laces in front were simple to tighten and tie, however it still hung loose.


    Turning back to the stiff bodice, Annabel eyed it unsurely. The eyelets for the long laces were in the back and it looked like a rather intimidating article of clothing. There was no way she would be able to put it on alone. Damn it all. Heaving a loud sigh Annabel wondered if she would have to shout. "Bastian," she called out experimentally, her voice hardly above normal speaking tone and in moments her door opened.


    "Yes, my lady?" he asked, his eyes sweeping over her before stepping over. "Do you require assistance?" Biting the inside of her cheek she nodded, pointing at the offending garment.


    "Why can''t I just wear the dress?" she began, her tone annoyed, "Is this necessary?" He picked up the bodice, smoothing out the laces and smiled innocently.


    "It is the very latest fashion in the french court," he explained, wrapping it around her torso without further explanation. She could feel a whisper of nimble fingers against her back as he quickly laced up the entire bodice in moments. And then he gave a strong tug, forcing her to exhale and making her grip the bed poster in front of her, her fingers curling around the dark wood.


    "Bloody hell Sebastian!" she gasped in partial shock and partial reprimand, very aware of his close proximity behind her bent over form.


    "Apologies young mistress," he began, amusement clear in his tone before giving a second squeezing tug on the strings before tying them off, "It is customary to wear them quite tight but we will leave it a bit loose for today." Loose?! It already felt overly restrictive, as if she couldn''t pull in a full breath. Exhaling through her nose she straightened and turned, her skirts swishing with the movement as she went to look upon herself in the mirror.


    Despite wanting to hate the bodice, even she had to admit that it looked rather fetching, drawing in the dress around her waist and detracting from the fact that it didn''t actually fit her properly. Her hair was still held up in a braided crown and she watched as Sebastian stepped up behind her. "You are a vision my lady," he complimented, causing her to avert her gaze from his. She wasn''t used to flattery.


    His hands reached up towards her hair and Annabel stiffened as she watched him but she said nothing, allowing him to pull some of the pins free. Her hair tumbled down over her back and shoulders, however some of the red locks remained pinned up, keeping it from her eyes. Surprise widened her eyes as her normally messy mane lay beautifully against her pale skin, winding gently in soft curls to grace the neckline of her dress.


    Sebastian arranged it perfectly, making sure to lay it over the tattoo on her neck and she shivered when one of his long fingers traced over the mark, her eyes snapping to his. The crimson depths gave away nothing and, as if pulling them from thin air, he was suddenly holding a pair of ivory slippers in one hand. Annabel turned as he knelt, her breath catching in her throat at the sight of him on his knees before her. She stepped lightly into each one without fuss, finding that they fit her perfectly. The slight heel added a bit of height and she took a few steps, pleasantly surprised at their comfort.


    Sebastian led her to the dining room then, where she enjoyed a wonderfully sweet breakfast of pancakes and honey. By the time she had finished and wiped her mouth she was feeling quite ready to face the day.


    Of course Sebastian appeared as if summoned the moment she set down her napkin and he escorted her through the kitchens, stepping out to the back courtyard where she had gazed upon the fish yesterday. Three men and a single woman stood side by side in front of the pool, lined up for her inspection. It irked her that they were arranged before her like livestock to judge but she didn''t let it show.


    "My lady, might I introduce you to the staff," Sebastian began, gesturing to the woman first, "This is Ana Bronte and she will be the new maid for your household." The woman in question was slim and tall, her dark hair and eyes hinting at a possible Romanian background. She seemed a bit nervous, wringing her hands in front of her and keeping her eyes downcast as she gave a fumbled curtsy but no words.


    The man next to her was young, no more than 20, his eyes a shocking shade of blue and his hair a sun kissed blonde. He gave a cheeky smile as Sebastian introduced him as Jack Phillips, the new groundskeeper and stablehand. He gave a slight bow and said in a country accent, "Pleased to meet ya lady." She nodded in return and replied with a simple and what she hoped seemed demure, "Likewise."


    The next man in line had a ruddy face and was rather portly with dull brown hair and eyes, spectacles sitting high on nose, making his eyes look comically large. "Malcolm Taylor will serve as the chef," Sebastian continued. The man hardly even seemed to recognize her presence, only giving the smallest of nods.


    "Lastly we have Thomas Blake, who will serve as manager of staff and finances to ensure the household runs smoothly," Sebastian finished. This last man looked to be in his early forties, tall and strangely hardened by muscle for someone of his profession. The most notable feature was a silver scar that ran over a slightly crooked nose and down into the beard that covered his jaw. Despite these imperfections he was ruggedly attractive, the salt and pepper in his brown hair only adding to his allure.


    Thomas gave a deep bow, much like Sebastian did and he spoke, "It is an honor to make your acquaintance my lady. I shall endeavor to serve your household to the best of my ability." His words were elegant and profound and Annabel was left momentarily at a loss for words as he straightened.Unlawfully taken from Royal Road, this story should be reported if seen on Amazon.


    "Yes, well, I am sure you will do just that Mr. Blake," she finally responded. Sebastian nodded and they all walked away, leaving the two of them alone. She let out a heavy sigh once they were alone and rubbed at her eyes. "I have no idea what I''m doing Bastian," she informed him, feeling completely out of her depth in this new position.


    "That is what I am here for," he responded with a smile that flashed teeth, "I would hate to be rendered unnecessary." He held out his arm and she eyed it skeptically before rolling her eyes and laying her arm on his trying to remain unaffected by his close presence.


    He led her back inside, bringing her to the library she had been in the day before. Closing the door behind them, her eyes widened when she spotted the assortment of items he had brought into the spacious room. A small table had been brought in with a place setting as well as a myriad of herbs in jars. Leaning against the chaise were a variety of small weapons and she looked back to Sebastian with an arched brow. "Just what is this training to entail Sebastian?" she asked quietly, pausing beside the table.


    His warm hand pressed against the small of her back as he ushered her over to table before pulling the chair out for her to sit. "We shall begin training with proper etiquette and table manners," he answered, watching as her gaze lingered on the jarred herbs and then the weapons. "From there we will continue to the deadlier arts," he finished with a chilling smile.


    Annabel sat then, content with his answer. Her attention came to the table in front of her, a myriad of plates and utensils in front of her. This was going to be terrible. For several hours Sebastian drilled her on which fork was used for what purpose and when she could start eating, or what to do with her napkin when she finished. When she made a mistake Sebastian was quick to correct her. He seemed to take pleasure in slapping the back of her hand or pointing out how uncultured and inept she was at the slightest slip in manners.


    Her patience was wearing thin, each reprimand peeling back another layer of her resolve. It was when she reached for the wrong fork, yet again, that his actions finally led to her snapping. A sharp sting nearly numbed her already red hand and she stood up quickly, the chair toppling back in her anger and haste. Her skin was flushed and her breathing heavy as she narrowed her green eyes in his direction, frustration leaving her momentarily wordless. Clenching and unclenching her fists she finally spoke, "You''re a right git, you foul smelling demon bastard." The words poured out and she watched his eyes widen nearly imperceptibly before a genuine smile spread his lips, exposing the tips of sharp canines as his eyes swirled a glowing crimson.


    In the blink of an eye he was directly in front of her, having moved so fast she hadn''t even seen a blur of movement. "Now that was rather unladylike, not to mention untrue my lady," he replied, his words coming out in a warm exhale across the top of her face as he towered above her. Fear made her pulse race instinctively and the nearness made her mouth water as the smell of him filled her nostrils. He was right, it had been untrue. The smell of him was the furthest thing from foul that she''d ever known and she could almost taste it on her tongue. It was the hot spice of cinnamon and the warmth of vanilla all wrapped in one like a comforting embrace. Or like standing in front of a roaring fire.


    Without realizing it she had begun to lean into him, breathing in deep, her heart beating faster. It was only the weakness of her currently frail body that kept her from pressing against him as her knees suddenly buckled and there was a momentary darkness. What in the hell had just happened? Her eyes fluttered open as the room spun but strong arms kept her from finding the floor. The room tilted suddenly as she was scooped into his arms and her weak arms came up to press against his chest. "Put me down," she spoke, but the words sounded weak and insincere in her ears. His answering chuckle let her know that he thought the same but even so, she felt herself being gently laid down against the soft velvet of the red chaise.


    "You made me faint," she accused, glaring into his amused beautiful face. Pursing her lips, she could feel her strength returning and moved to sit up, thankful when Sebastian finally stepped back allowing her to breathe easier.


    Tapping his chin, the butler seemed to be assessing her before letting out a heavy sigh. "I had thought to start reconditioning you today with strength training. However, perhaps it should wait." The words and his assessment felt like an insult. As though he were calling her out, mocking her for her frailty. Her eyes flashed in indignation. Damn him... A bit too late for that maybe. Damn him harder.


    "No, we shall begin the physical training today," she ordered, her voice hard. His answering smirk made her realize that he had goaded her purposefully, but it was too late to back down now. Besides she hated feeling so weak.


    ----------------------


    Hours later, sweat was pouring from every part of her body, leaving uncomfortable trickles to trace down her back and between her breasts. Annabel had changed into men''s riding breeches and a linen shirt. Initially she had felt uncomfortable wearing such attire, the breeches form fitting and rather scandalous. However, as the pain of overworked muscled began to set in, she was only grateful that she wasn''t haven''t to combat thick skirts as well.


    The so called exercises Sebastian had her doing had seemed like some slow, silly dance. He had called it Tai Chi, some sort of ancient Chinese martial art. Her initial impression had quickly changed as she attempted to flow through the positions he showed her. It had quickly become its own cruel torture after endless repetitions.


    The demon stood in front of her, free from any sweat or strain, his movements fluid and graceful. Annabel on the other hand was doing a poor job of trying to imitate each motion as well as regulate her breathing. She wanted nothing more than to throw herself down and curse him soundly but she was too stubborn to give in.


    When her limbs began to tremble in earnest with her effort Sebastian finally straightened and nodded his head. "That was a good beginning, my lady. We shall continue to do these everyday until you grow stronger. Then perhaps we can move on to the weapons." She had thought they would get to the weapons today but she was in no mood to press the issue. Just the thought of having to do this everyday made her knees weak all over again.


    Annabel pushed back strands of hair that clung to her cheeks as she walked to the chaise and took a seat. Sebastian was there in an instant the the cart which held a much needed glass of water and some snacks. Partaking in both eagerly, she was relieved when he didn''t force her to eat in a ladylike manner, ignoring the slight downturn of his lips when she pressed an entire finger sandwich between her lips.


    Swallowing hard around the large bite, she chased it with the rest of the water, then leaned back with a sigh. Glancing to the window she could see that the sun had moved from its highest position indicating that it was early afternoon. She was exhausted but seeing the flutter if leaves and the promising sunshine made her wish to go outside.


    "That will be all for today Bastian," she spoke, not turning to look at him, hearing the clink of china and glassware as he gathered things up. There was a sharp protest from her tired muscles when she stood and she let out a low groan.


    "Of course young mistress. I shall see to it that your dinner is being prepared. Would you like me to draw you a bath?" he asked, never swaying from his role. It was becoming rather tiresome. Already she disliked the formality that came with posing as a noble. She longed for the simplicity of friendly conversation.


    Moving to the tray before he could exit she replied, "No, I will wait until after dinner. For now I''m going to walk outside." She scooped up a couple of the finger sandwiches and moved for the door, purposefully avoiding looking in his direction.


    "My lady, I must advise a change of clothes at the very least. The servants will think this outfit unseemly," Sebastian spoke plainly and she paused, her cheeks reddening. Indeed it was unseemly as he put it but it was a far cry more comfortable than those bulky dresses and tight corsets.


    Something in her hardened. What did she care what the servants thought? She had already sold her soul to a demon, surely she was allowed to enjoy a little extra freedom in her life. "Let them think what they will Bastian, it''s not my concern," she replied finally, before walking out the door.


    If she had bothered to turn back she would''ve seen the glowing flame in his eyes and the hungry gaze her words brought forth. Because at that moment, her soul flared deliciously brighter.


    Annabel grabbed a cloak from a hook at the door, casting a quick glance over her shoulder to ensure Sebastian hadn''t followed her. He was nowhere in sight. She exited quickly, pulling the cloak tight around her shoulders in the brisk air before walking around back to the small pond of fish.


    Sitting on the pond''s edge, she nibbled on the small sandwiches she had brought out, sharing bits with the beautiful fish before her. Footsteps approached and she turned her emerald gaze from the water to see one of the servants approaching. The stablehand. What was his name? James? No, Jack.


    The blond haired man approached almost cautiously, an easy smile on his face. "Hello again Miss," he greeted, his mannerisms and words hesitant. He clearly eyed the breeches she wore but wisely he said nothing.


    "Hello," she replied, tossing the last of the bread she held into the water. He was near her age and yet despite his broad shoulders and handsome face she felt no attraction or pull. Were such things beyond her now? "You are the stablehand, correct?" she questioned, merely for conversation.


    He nodded brightly, coming up to the water''s edge to look down at the fish that were now back to swimming around lazily. "That I am Miss. Although there ain''t no horses just yet. Not til the next week." She nodded as if she knew the information already before brushing away crumbs from her lap. The more time she spent with them the harder it would to keep up this supposed nobility act.


    "I must make quite the sight," she spoke, gesturing to her clothing. His cheeks reddened, spreading all the way up to his ears.


    "I would never presume to- I mean you would look beautiful in anything," his words stuttered out before he clamped his lips firmly shut. Annabel couldn''t hide the slight muffled laugh or the amusement that danced in her green eyes.


    Waving her hand to dismiss his nervousness she stood and turned to the house. Someone had obviously cleaned up the ragged hedges that surrounded but it would still need alot of work. She wanted to ask if he enjoyed the work. Maybe if he needed a hand. But there was a facade to maintain. "Keep up the good work Jack," she tossed over her shoulder, walking back to the front courtyard and front steps.


    A single grey tom cat sat on the top step, licking his front paws and methodically grooming himself. "Hello there big guy," she crooned, approaching slowly. He eyed her warily, rising to move before she could get within reach. While he wasn''t terrified he definitely wanted to keep a bit of distance. Shame. Annabel adored cats. Deciding to leave him be, she walked back inside, looking forward to dinner, bath and bed.


    The following fortnight passed by rather quickly and she maintained the same routine. Each morning she groaned with tired muscles but her ribs weren''t as noticeable and color began to return to her skin. And each day Sebastian left her feeling tired, sore, and more than just a little frustrated. It was as if he enjoyed tormenting her mind, body and soul. Which considering he was a demon, made perfect sense.

 Art of Seduction

    The following weeks were a bit of a blur, each day leaving her exhausted. After a particularly grueling day, she had fallen asleep in the soothing heat of the bath, her muscles basking in the relaxing heat. And even though she had awoken dressed in bed the next morning she hadn''t confronted Sebastian about it.


    The lessons had moved onto more taxing exercises such as fencing. They had also finished with table etiquette, moving onto the art of conversation and then the art of poisons. There were so many ways to kill a man that she felt she could never learn them all. But it didn''t stop her from trying. Annabel was always quick to remind herself to the reason, quick to remember her mother''s screams whenever she felt like quitting for the day or taking a rest.


    It was a Thursday afternoon and she''d just finished learning how to boil down herbs in a way to make the resulting poisons more potent. Sebastian was clearing up the results when he spoke, breaking her from her thoughts. "I had thought perhaps that we could go to your home village in a fortnight''s time," he began and her eyes widened. "You have come far in your training and it will be time to put it to some use."


    Annabel was quiet, turning to gaze outside where fall was approaching its end as she thought on his proposal. Was she ready? She wanted to be ready. "Okay," she replied finally, turning to meet his crimson gaze. She would need to make a plan for how to take them down. There were quite a few people from the village that needed to pay. He was watching her closely and she wondered if his mouth watered when he thought of the eventual meal she would make.


    "There is one more lesson that we haven''t yet begun to broach," he brought up just before she moved to stand.


    "Oh?" she questioned, honestly curious. Sebastian continued to clean things up as he nodded, placing everything on the tea cart.


    "Yes young mistress," he began, glancing at her as he continued, "I believe it would be prudent for you to learn the art of seduction." Annabel blinked hard at that, finding herself at a momentary loss for words.


    "I know it is your wish to deliver their deaths personally, and this would allow you easier access to many of your targets," he continued nonchalantly, his tone as bland as if they were speaking of the weather.


    However, she saw his eyes flash when he spoke of her delivering their deaths herself. Annabel had grown somewhat accustomed to Sebastian and knew the glow in his eyes came from his excitement. "And just who would be teaching me this art? You Bastian?" she asked, eyebrow arched.


    In moments he was seated beside her on the couch, she hated when he moved to fast for her to see, but the look in her eyes kept her from admonishing him. "Do you not think me up for the job, my lady?" he asked, his voice a husky whisper. He reached forward a delicate finger and brushed it over her cheek, turning her to face him. "I can assure you that it is an artform I too have studied," he continued, breathing out against her face, his knee brushing hers through their clothes.


    His breath smelled strangely sweet and she found herself blinking, her mind hazy as her lips parted. Everything about him, from his smell to the alluring curve of his lips, called her to lean closer. His fingers slid down from her cheek to brush down the line of her neck and her breathing hitched in response. A slight shiver raised the hair on her arms and she swallowed hard as he drew nearer. Faintly, somewhere in the back of her mind, her body was screaming for her to stop, to recognize the danger he posed and yet another part of her wanted to know what his lips felt like. What his hands felt like.


    Just before his lips could meet hers, her eyes flickered open and she caught sight of his glowing red gaze intent on her lips. Her hand came up suddenly like a whip, cracking sharply against his cheek. It felt as though she surfaced from a dream and her eyes narrowed in anger. "You would do well to keep your hands to yourself Bastian," she spoke from behind clenched teeth, her fury a tangible thing between them.


    His porcelain skin was reddened where she slapped him but he looked anything but admonished. A hunger entered his face, making his red eyes continue to glow with lingering excitement. Still only inches from her face he slowly licked his lips and she felt a touch of fear and arousal swirl in her lower abdomen. "Of course, my lady," he spoke out, his voice little more than a heated whisper. Some irrational part of her wanted him to continue, especially when she watched the way his nostrils flared and his eyes flickered down between them. As if he could smell her arousal.


    Leaning back he was standing by the cart again in an instant and he gave a slight bow of his head, turning to push it from the room. Before he could leave she spoke out, "Sebastian? We shall begin the new lessons tomorrow but you shall be on your best behavior."


    The hunger in his eyes was now gone, or perhaps just well hidden as he gave a slight nod of his head. "I will do my best to please you my lady," he spoke, a wicked sly smile curving his lips before he departed. If anything he kept her on her toes she thought with a sigh. Annabel rose then and headed for the door where a thick long blue coat was waiting as well as gloves and a scarf. Sebastian had become used to her taking a stroll after their lessons and they were always waiting by the door when she needed them.


    Bundling up, Annabel stepped out into the cooler air of the courtyard, setting course for the stables. The grounds were looking much improved, the stray thorny vines cleared and all the statues cleaned and somewhat restored. Her breath rose up like smoke in front of her face and she was quick to cross the distance to the large sliding door, slipping into the barn where it was relatively warmer.


    Soft snickers called to her and she turned to see their new pair of carriage horses, both their dark heads over their adjacent stall doors as if begging her to come pay them some attention. She smiled, stepping over to them and raised a hand to each of them stroking lightly over their noses. "Good boys," she cooed softly, laughing quietly when the one with a large blaze of white down his face reached out to nip at her coat. That one was Loki and the other was Hod. Their names were due to the fact that she''d been reading a book on mythology when they''d arrived. They were both large black stallions, their only difference the markings on their faces. Hod only had the barest sliver of white down his nose.


    "Good afternoon Miss Annabel," a friendly voice spoke from behind her and she just barely kept from jumping. She hadn''t heard the young stablehand approach, she''d been too wrapped up in the animals in front of her.


    "Hello Jack," she replied primly, continuing to appease the duo in front of her with gentle strokes. His footsteps came closer and she turned slightly as he drew nearer. He was dirty and he smelled like sweat and horse which made her nose crinkle but she enjoyed his presence most times. She''d never seen him be anything but happy and it was strangely contagious.


    "I''ve got a surprise to show you," he suddenly gushed, then promptly blushed at his obvious excitement. The blush is what finally pulled her own grin and she turned to face him.


    "Oh?" she questioned speculatively, "What is it?" He beamed at her before waving her in the direction further into the stables. He walked down to another stall where they kept the bales of hay inside, opening the door and gesturing for her to enter.


    She heard them before she saw them, tiny mews echoing from the far end of the stall. Excitement quickened her pace and she stepped around a bale of hay to catch sight of a litter of kittens nestled up snugly against a tabby mama cat in a bed of loose hay. Letting out a small gasp she turned to see Jack give her an encouraging nod obviously pleased by her excitement.


    "You can get closer Miss," he spoke, his voice quieter in their presence, "Their mama don''t seem to mind too much." Turning back, she stepped a bit closer and slowly sank down to her knees, not wanting to startle the new little mother. The cat in question was laid out on her side and only followed Annabel''s movements with weary green eyes. There was a small bowl of water and then a dish with meat trimmings nearby and she was pleased by Jack''s care. Eight little kittens were nestled in close to the tabby cat all various shades of grey and tabby, blindly pushing themselves against her side, their tiny mouths latched against her. All but one.


    A smaller grey kitten pushed and prodded against his littermates, his loud mews insistent, but he couldn''t seem to get through. There were just too many. She smiled at the tiny thing''s tenacity but then frowned slightly. It was obvious he was the runt of the litter and he didn''t seem to be making any headway with his voracious siblings.


    Turning she looked to Jack, concern evident in her tone, "Will this little one be okay?" His mouth turned down slightly at the edge and he gave a small shrug, running a hand over the back of his neck.


    "I couldn''t say Miss," he replied hesitantly, looking over the litter before continuing, "He''s a fighter but he''s small and weak. The world ain''t so nice to things like him." Worrying the inside of her cheek slightly she stood and tapped at her cheek.


    "Let me know if he isn''t doing well," she spoke calmly despite her slight worry. He was so small and vulnerable. It reminded her of herself. Jack nodded in answer to her words and she soon excused herself so that the mother could rest easy, making her way back to the manor.


    --------------------------


    The next day Annabel awoke before Sebastian came in and the light coming in seemed abnormally bright this morning. Lifting off her covers she slid her feet into a pair of warm slippers and padded to the nearest window, pulling back the curtain to see outside. Glistening white snow seemed to cover every surface and her eyes widened at the sight of it. It was magical.


    As if he had sensed her awakening, a slight knock sounded on the door before Sebastian entered, his normal tea cart preceding him. His presence reminded her of the lesson they would be moving onto today and she felt a nervous flutter in her stomach. As with the other lessons, she would be starting with a completely clean slate. There hadn''t been much room for romance in her life when everyone had suspected her mother and by proxy, her, of being a witch.


    "Good morning, my lady," he greeted her, beginning to pour her a cup of tea. She turned back to look out the window again, not wanting to be caught eyeing him.


    "Good morning Bastian," she replied, waiting until he brought her the steaming hot mug. Taking it in both hands, the hot china warmed her cold fingers and she blew lightly over the surface while he moved to her wardrobe. In the last couple weeks as her exercises had ramped up he had been laying out breeches and linen shirts. Today he pulled out the green satin dress she had worn her first day here.Stolen novel; please report.


    Annabel didn''t comment, instead taking a sip of the hot contents in her cup. She was pleasantly surprised to find that the hot contents were not tea at all but a soothing apple cider, sweet and cinnamon lingering in her mouth. A pleased sigh left her lips after she swallowed and she finally turned from the window, watching as he finished preparing her garments for the day.


    "This is good," she praised softly and a small smile curved one corner of his lips.


    "I thought it fitting for the weather," he explained, stepping back once everything was out. There was an under corset laid out this time and she groaned in dismay, eyeing it skeptically. "Do you require my assistance my lady?" he asked, his voice neutral, however, she knew he would take pleasure in her discomfort. And they both knew she wouldn''t be able to tie it up herself. She momentarily debated calling in the maid, Ana, but the poor girl was rather skittish and had hardly spoken two words to her since arriving.


    Allowing the quiet to stretch she took another long drink of the cider before walking to the cart and setting the cup down. It wasn''t as if he hadn''t already seen it. Rather than actually answering his question she instead ordered, "Turn around Sebastian." He promptly turned to face the door without a word and she took a deep breath before pulling the long nightgown off over her head. She shed the undergarments she wore and then stepped into the fresh ones, all the while keeping her eyes on his backside, ready to tear him apart if he so much as shifted to turn.


    Dressed in nothing but a thin shift and small bloomers she grabbed the cream colored corset and placed it over her breasts, clutching it close before clearing her throat. "You may turn now Sebastian," she spoke, and she made sure she was already facing away, not wanting to see the way he looked at her or even worse be caught blushing when he turned. A heavy pause sat between them before she heard his footsteps as he approached before his fingers gripped each side of the corset and began lacing them together in the back. She was acutely aware each time his fingers brushed against her back and the silence was near stifling.


    The laces started at the bottom and ended at the top and he smoothly brushed her hair forward over her shoulder. She could feel as he gripped the ends of the laces in one hand and then his other pressed against her lower back, just above her bottom, pulling a muted gasp from her lips. Before she could protest he pulled the laces tight and the air was sharply pressed from her lungs. Trying to suck in a breath against the force of the corset she was denied the air when he pulled again, restricting her chest even further.


    Both her hands came up to her chest where her breasts were pushed up rather prominently as if threatening to be squeezed out of the top of the corset. "You''re such a bastard," she accused between tight breaths, trying and failing to pull in a deep breath. He chuckled at that and merely began to tie off the laces with agile fingers. As she relearned how to breathe, Sebastian picked up the green dress and pulled it over her head, pulling her arms into the sleeves as if she were a child. He didn''t put nearly as much effort into the laces of the dress, only making sure it was snug over the corset.


    Without responding to her insult he moved to the vanity, picking up the hairbrush and gesturing for her to take a seat. Annabel gave him a stern glare before stiffly moving to sit in front of him. She would never admit it, but she thoroughly enjoyed having him brush and style her hair. Not only was he good at it but he had a surprisingly gentle touch. Closing her eyes so she wouldn''t be tempted to watch him, Annabel relaxed as he worked, folding her hands in her lap.


    It wasn''t until he began to speak that she opened her eyes but his gaze was fixed on her hair. "For breakfast this morning we have poached eggs in a hollandaise sauce with salmon and a side of rye toast." His voice was level and her stomach grumbled hungrily at the words. She had never eaten so well. Soon she would have to watch what she ate but between the exercise and how thin she''d been, she could continue to indulge for now.


    His fingers winded skillfully through her curls, winding it into thick braids that were spun into a bun at the nape of her neck, easily covering the devil''s mark she bore. Once he was finished he wordlessly stepped back and led her to the dining hall. She ate slowly, unable to think of anything else but their upcoming lesson. Nerves kept her from being able to finish her meal, not to mention how her corset squeezed tighter as she sat, and she gave a heavy sigh.


    As always, Sebastian was there in a heartbeat to pull out her chair and usher her to the study where they had spent a lot of their time the past couple weeks. As he closed the door she quickly put some distance between them and strode to sit on the familiar red velvet chaise. Smoothing her sweaty palms over the skirts of her dress, she was acutely aware of his approach and her heart began to beat faster.


    Sebastian took a seat on the opposite end of the chaise, the picture of ease. He gave her an easy comfortable smile and if his eyes hadn''t been such an unnatural hue it would have appeared friendly and normal. Taking a deep breath Annabel squared her shoulders and faced him resolutely before speaking, "How is this going to work?" Her words were stiff and clipped. He raised an eyebrow before crossing one of his legs over the other, resting an ankle on the opposite knee as he leaned back.


    "First," he spoke, looking over her form, "You need to relax and smile." She exhaled heavily trying to ease some of the tension in her body. Scooting back further she leaned against the back cushion and attempted an air of nonchalance with a small smile, however it was clear from his raised eyebrow that she was failing miserably.


    Quickly, the smile turned into a scowl and she snapped, "You try to look relaxed when your ribs are being squeezed into your lungs." He gave a slight sigh and uncrossed his legs before moving closer at which point she stiffened.


    "Relax, my lady," he chastised mildly, reaching forward to adjust her position. Annabel''s lips tightened into a thin line but she didn''t pull away from his touch. As if she were a feather light doll, he moved her to the corner of the chaise, repositioning her arms to rest on the arm and back of the furniture. One of his hands slid behind to arch her back slightly while the other tilted her chin up.


    Heat spread out from where he touched her and she was breathing a little easier in this position although the arch in her back only pushed her breasts further up and out, no doubt his intention. "A key to seduction is being able to pull the eye where you wish," he instructed, lightly running his fingers down the line of her throat and then down to the swell of her breasts. "Your greatest strengths lie in the delicate arch of your neck and the curve of your figure," he spoke, his voice dipping an octave as he slipped over the indenting curve of her waist.


    Annabel felt her abdomen clench and the tight line she''d been holding her lips in failed as they parted in a soft panting exhale. She licked her lips but stayed silent, allowing him to continue in his instruction, feeling a strange anticipation for his continued touch. His voice was like warm silk dancing over her skin. "You have to embody desire, feel it, in order to seduce," he continued, one of his hands gripping her waist while the other came up to cup her face, running the pad of his thumb over her lower lip.


    His crimson eyes were half lidded, his entire body angled in close to hers and she felt the pull of him like a tangible thread connecting their bodies. "Do you feel it?" he asked quietly, his face drawing closer to hers and she wondered exactly what it was. But she felt something.


    There was no helping it. She wanted him to kiss her desperately. He was only inches away and she found herself nodding almost imperceptibly in answer to his question, holding her breath for the inevitable.


    "Good," he spoke, his voice suddenly different, back to its normal pitch. He pulled back from her and she drew in a ragged breath, confused. "Use that feeling," he continued, his grin widening at the look on her face. Reality settled in as she realized that she''d been played.


    Bastard. Dirty, teasing, demon bastard. Her mouth was dry and her pulse was pounding in her ears with the denial. Frustration quickly morphed into anger and her fingers dug into the fabric of the chaise where her hands were perched.


    "You look utterly ravishing," he suddenly admitted and it kept her from screaming at him, at least for the moment. Taking a deep breath to quell her rising anger she leaned back away from him, pressing herself into the cushions as she eyed him warily.


    He had made her feel weak and she hated that feeling. "And you look like a fucking asshole," she replied with more than a little hint of snark and it made her feel a bit better. His smile was fixed and he took up the same position as before with his legs crossed.


    She knew that being angry with him would do them no good. And this so called training was actually something she needed to learn. Pursing her lips she closed her eyes for a moment to block out his smug face as she tried to bring back the way he''d made her feel.


    Annabel pictured the feel of his touch and the weight of his lustful gaze. Shifting against the chaise she could feel herself relax into a more languorous position before she allowed her green eyes to open and find his.


    "Alright Sebastian," she drawled out, emphasizing the end of his name, "I do have a question for you." Allowing her eyelids to drift into a more relaxed position she crossed her legs slowly and licked her lips.


    A part of her felt completely foolish but she was emboldened when his eyes followed her movements, lingering on her now shiny lips. "Yes mistress?" he questioned, watching her unabashed, "You may ask whatever you wish," he continued.


    The air seemed to thicken as she allowed the desire she felt from earlier come back, openly appreciating the beauty and strength that clung to him. One of her hands brushed over her hair and she ran a finger up and down the side of her neck before idly resting it against her cheek.


    "Do you ever imagine how I taste Sebastian?" she asked in a low voice and his eyes flashed, his fake desire melting away into something more real. Annabel slid her finger back down her own neck before allowing it to wind back to the mark at the nape of her neck. She brushed over the mark in a gentle graze and he twitched slightly, shifting his hand where she knew the mark lay.


    Her question was thick with multiple meanings, but she was certain the thing that would bring him the most pleasure was thoughts of her soul. Little did she know, this little game was only twisting and amplifying the pull it had on him as her soul flared brighter with her strange wicked innocence.


    Sebastian had frozen where he was and she decided to keep pressing, letting her legs uncross as she scraped her nails lightly down her own chest. The movement pulled his glowing crimson eyes to her breasts and she leaned in towards him.


    "I''ll just bet the anticipation drives you crazy," she continued her voice little more than a sultry whisper. "Don''t you ache for a taste of me demon?" Before she could continue he had moved in an instant, faster than she could follow. He was now hovering over her, his feet planted on either side of her legs while his hands gripped the chaise, his fingers just barely brushing against hers.


    Annabel was frozen beneath his towering form, more aroused than she''d ever been in her entire life. Sebastian had never looked less human in her presence, his beauty turning inhuman as a subtle glow infused skin paler than hers and shadows began to caress his form. Even his own breath was coming and going a little faster and she knew the emotion that was taking over his features. Hunger.


    The game she was playing was a dangerous one and she hadn''t expected it to affect him this much but she was far from displeased. While he lusted for her soul she was left desiring his touch again, the heady fear and arousal making her feel truly alive again. No one had ever looked at her with such blatant desire.


    "You have no idea my lady," he whispered above her, drawing in close before running his nose along the line of her neck and inhaling deeply. She arched beneath him, exposing her pale flesh for his perusal letting out a slight moan as he released a soft sigh.


    Abruptly the door to the study flew open and Sebastian was gone, leaving her alone in the room, her face and chest flushed with arousal. Jack, the stablehand, stood in the doorway his blonde hair a disheveled mess.


    The abrupt change had her reeling and she was left staring at him mutely before registering that he''d said something she didn''t catch.


    "Jack?" she questioned in a confused and perhaps irritated tone, *What are you doing here?"


    The man in particular did look thoroughly uncomfortable and seemed to realize that he was behaving rather rudely to a woman of her apparent station. "Sorry Miss, I shouldn''t have just barged in," he apologized, biting his lip nervously. "But ya told me to come straight to ya if the kitten was doing worse today."


    A measure of worry entered her mind and she forgot about any offense she may have felt at his unannounced intrusion. Smoothing her hands over her skirts, Annabel did her best to shake off the lingering memory of Sebastian''s presence. She rose quickly and spoke, "Have the cook warm a small bit of milk," she ordered, quickly stepping from the room. It was good he had come when he did, before she had done something she would regret. Still, that thought did little stop the residual ache that lingered in her breasts and between her thighs.

 Hunger

    October 4, 1695


    Forest of Dean, 9:12 AM


    Hod lifted his head from his bucket of grain to snicker in acknowledgement when Annabel slipped between the large barn doors before turning back to his breakfast. Strange to think it was still morning. So much had happened in such little time.


    Annabel was quick to hurry to the stall at the end of the stables. Stepping into the doorway her eyes darted to the corner where a group of kittens were huddled into a furry bundle of small bodies. It seemed the mother cat had decided to take a break which was rather fortunate timing.


    Moving slightly closer, Annabel quickly knelt down for a closer look. It seemed that Jack had been right. The smaller gray kitten was outside of the furry pile and the little guy was obviously lethargic. Weak mews sounded as his little head bobbed from side to side.


    "Hmm..." a warm silken voice sounded out from behind her, making her jump with a gasp. Whirling, Annabel''s green eyes widened to find Sebastian''s belt buckle only inches from her face. Taking a steadying breath her eyes slowly rose, tracing the lines of his immaculate silver buttoned coat to his face.


    The demon''s red eyes were momentarily focused on the kittens before they shifted to her. "Mistress, what are you doing wasting your time with these flea ridden vermin catchers?" he asked, his smooth kind tone clashing with his harsh words.


    Annabel scoffed at the words, finding them ammunition enough to turn from the distraction of his close body. "I will choose what is and isn''t a waste of my time Bastian," she replied sharply, turning back to reach out and pick up the small runt, holding it close to her body. It felt cold so she lifted it up to her upper chest allowing skin on skin contact.


    Standing to her feet, Annabel was startled further when she turned to see that Sebastian was holding open her cloak. She''d been in such a rush to come out that she hadn''t bothered to put on anything but her boots. Wordlessly, he reached behind her, stepping closer to drape it over her shoulders.


    Was that kindness or merely a protection of his investment? Annabel didn''t bother to thank him. Instead, she turned and began to walk back to the manor, the small kitten cradled to her chest. Sebastian opened the door and she made her way to the kitchens where Mr. Malcolm Taylor, the cook, was arguing with Jack but the argument paused with her entrance.


    "Gentlemen," she greeted coolly, "What seems to be the problem here?" They both turned, Jack looking apologetic and Mr. Taylor''s face one of discontent.


    Jack spoke first in a rushed voice, "Miss Annabel, I was just telling Mr. Taylor here that we need to warm up a bit of the milk from this morning so-"


    He was cutoff by the cook in question, "And I was just telling Jack here that the milk is to be used for butter and cheese." The kitten against Annabel''s chest nuzzled against her chest and she could feel it weakly trying to suck on her skin.


    "That''s enough," she spoke, her tone hard. She may not have been born with authority but she had found that she could play the role when she needed to. "It needn''t be more than a ladle of milk. Warm it up but make sure it isn''t too hot to the touch," she ordered, looking at the cook. His face went ruddy and she wasn''t sure if it was with embarrassment or aggravation.


    Whatever Mr. Taylor felt, he masked it with a bow of his head and the words, "Yes, my lady." Annabel nodded and turned, noticing that Sebastian hadn''t left her side. She still felt the evidence of his earlier company between her legs and she didn''t quite know how to handle it or him just yet.


    "Sebastian I need you to find me a medicinal dropper and ensure it is cleaned as well as some soft blankets and a wetted handkerchief. Bring them to the study," Annabel ordered. There was a strange look upon his face but he merely bowed and left the room.


    Jack came over then to stand beside her and pointed to the kitten she held and caressed. "May I?" he asked softly, holding out his hands. She nodded and passed the kitten into his large hands, feeling a warmth in her stomach at the soft smile that molded his lips. He was holding it away from his body and Annabel moved her hands to his, pushing them so that he clutched the kitten to the hollow of his bare throat.


    "Bare skin is best for warmth and comfort," she explained, quickly pulling her hands back. The look in Jack''s sky blue eyes was something she didn''t know how to handle so instead she took a step back to lean against the island counter.


    Jack too seemed to realize the sudden intimacy of their close quarters and he stepped back as well to lean against the opposite counter. "How do you know do much about kittens?" he asked curiously, his fingers stroking gently over the ball of fur.


    "They''re similar to babies. My mother was a-" Annabel let her words trail off, realizing that it would be unwise to tell this man the truth of being a midwife''s daughter. He was too easy to talk to. Clearing her throat she continued, "My mother enjoyed cats and we had a litter of kittens once." The false words weren''t too far from the truth but they still felt sour on her lips, especially since they involved her mother.


    Still, the young stablehand nodded, not pressing any further for which she was grateful. Mr Taylor appeared then with a small glass bottle of milk that was wrapped in a hand cloth. "Here you are my lady," he spoke, holding it out to her as he warned, "It is quite warm, you may need to let it cool."


    Annabel took the bottle with a gracious nod. "Thank you Mr. Taylor, we will leave you to your work." With a gesture to Jack, Annabel turned from the room and they walked to the study. Sebastian opened the door as she approached, balancing folded blankets in one hand.


    She moved to where a fire crackled in the hearth and motioned for Sebastian to set down the blankets before lowering herself down bottle still in hand. Jack followed, dropping down beside her uncertainly while she looked to Sebastian with her hand out. With a smile the butler placed a small dropper into her hand and Annabel used it to draw up a measure of the warmed goats milk, testing it against the skin of her wrist. Satisfied that it wasn''t too hot, she held out a hand to Jack.


    With overly cautious slowness, he brought the kitten from the crook of his neck and Annabel took the small thing in one hand, holding it close as she brought forth the dropper. "Above all, kittens require patience and time," she spoke quietly to the two in the room, although her words were more directed to Jack. Milk dribbled from the end of the dropper and at first the kitten did little more than wipe its face, smearing milk across its fur.


    In comfortable quiet she coaxed and coaxed, until the little thing finally opened its mouth and she was able to drop a bit of the milk on its tongue. After a few more minutes, it seemed to get the hang of it and was doing its best to suck on the end of the dropper, eager for more.


    "Amazing," Jack breathed out, drawing closer as he watched the kitten muster a bit of strength so it could get its fill. Annabel warmed a bit at his words and Sebastian only watched silently.


    "Here," Annabel offered, holding out the dropper, "You should know how to do this as well. He will need to eat quite often." Jack looked uncertain but he gathered both the kitten and the dropper, holding both awkwardly. Feeling amused, Annabel leaned in and helped guide his motions.


    Although he wasn''t quite as smooth and steady the stablehand picked up the act quickly and his head shot up to beam at her as suckling sounds filled the air. It was a fast gesture and both their eyes widened when they realized how close they were. Quickly, Annabel pulled back and smoothed imaginary wrinkles from her skirt. She really hoped he didn''t get the wrong idea.


    "I think he''s falling asleep," Jack whispered, and sure enough the little kitten had begun to nod off, it''s cute tiny mouth going slack around the dropper.


    "I believe he''s had enough," Annabel spoke softly with a smile. "There is still one last thing and it isn''t as pleasant," she mused, grabbing the hand cloth that had been around the milk. Taking the kitten back, she first cleaned the milk dribbled from its mouth before turning the cloth to wipe over its bottom. "He''ll need help with other bodily functions as well," she instructed, wiping softly until the kitten released its bladder.


    She gathered up the blankets into more of a nest and placed the weary kitten in the center, near the warm hearth. "There," she spoke finally, sitting back on her heels. Jack looked amazed and rocked back as well. "He''ll need to eat again in a couple hours," she told him and he nodded. Annabel knew it was a foolish thing to try and save this one kitten but the thought of leaving it to probably die was not something she could abide.


    "What are you going to name it?" Jack asked her and she shook her head at his words.


    "Let''s wait to see if he makes it to open his eyes. Then we can choose a name," she replied, not wanting to get hers or Jack''s hopes up. The odds weren''t the best.


    "I best be getting back to my chores then," Jack spoke, obviously hesitant to leave until Annabel gave him an encouraging nod. The young man stood and left, quietly shutting the door behind him.


    Once he was gone, Sebastian finally knelt down next to her, his crimson eyes focused on the tiny grey bundle, nestled into the blankets. "What can you hope to gain by helping it?" he asked curiously, turning his gaze to her.Love this story? Find the genuine version on the author''s preferred platform and support their work!


    "Why should I seek to gain something Sebastian?" she questioned back, looking away from him and into the crackling fire. "Although, perhaps I seek to balance the scales," she continued her voice growing softer, "Why not help this one innocent life if I can? After all, I will be taking much more from his world before I leave it."


    He was quiet beside her and she wondered if he was pondering the words. She sensed his movement as he gathered up the bottle and things before he set them on the table by the nearby wing-back chairs.


    ----------------


    Sebastian left her be for the rest of the day and she used it to begin planning out their impending visit to her hometown. First she wrote out a list of the people that deserved her retribution in order of severity then began to decide their ultimate fates. She took breaks often to either feed herself, or more often, the kitten.


    By that evening, she was rather exhausted and welcomed the coming bath that Sebastian drew up for her. It was welcome against the chill that was trying to pervade the house and she let out a deep sigh when she sank into the steaming water, her red hair piled atop her head haphazardly.


    Just when she''d closed her eyes, Annabel heard a soft knock on her door before it cracked open. "Forgive the intrusion my lady," Sebastian''s voice spoke from the hall, "But I have the box with the kitten inside."


    Instinctively she stiffened, overly conscious of her own nudity and sank deeper into the tub. And yet, she had ordered him to bring the kitten to her chambers. She just hadn''t expected him to do it right now. "Come in," she finally spoke, her voice quiet, but she knew he would hear her. In his arms, Sebastian held a small crate with blankets overflowing from the sides.


    To his credit, Sebastian didn''t so much as leer in her direction when he entered. He was completely impassive as she took in the crate he held in one hand as well as the milk in his other. "Can you handle feeding him?" she asked, raising a brow mockingly. His crimson eyes shifted down to the kitten and then back up to hers.


    "I am capable of whatever task you require my lady," he replied coolly, walking forward to pass by the tub she was sitting in. Annabel''s hands gripped the basin''s edges hard, fighting the urge to cover herself. She didn''t want to give him the satisfaction of seeing her so uncomfortable.


    He set the wooden crate down in front of the hearth before moving to build up the fire, allowing a fresh wave of heat to pour forth. Leaning her chin against the edge she allowed her green eyes to follow his movements, the water helping to ease her discomfort. If anything, watching his movements only made her feel warmer.


    "Whatever task I require?" she repeated back to him, arching her brow playfully but keeping her lips from turning up. Sebastian paused before placing the fire poker back and turning back to face her.


    "Of course my lady," he replied in his silken voice and she couldn''t help but remember how it had felt when he''d drawn so close to her that morning, how he''d sighed after breathing her in. "What is it you require?" he asked, his voice dropping a notch before he was suddenly at her side.


    She twitched in surprise, cursing inwardly when she saw his lip curl upwards. The bastard loved seeing her squirm. She was just about to chastise him or send him away when he lifted a gloved hand to his mouth and pulled the glove free with his teeth in a decidedly erotic fashion.


    Annabel''s mouth when completely dry as he mimicked the move with his other hand and then his fingers began to slowly unbutton his waistcoat, revealing the white linen shirt beneath. Had she missed something? "Umm... Sebastian?" she questioned, not sure what she was planning on asking.


    He continued, his eyes on hers as he shrugged free of the black waistcoat, draping it carefully over the nearby stool. "Yes my lady?" he asked softly, slowly rolling up the white sleeves of his shirt. His nails were oddly black, in sharp contract to the pale skin of his fingers and she was utterly mesmerized by his every movement.


    What was she going to ask him? The firelight was dancing over his features, lending him an ethereal glow. "What are you doing Bastian?" she questioned, her voice breathy and whisper quiet.


    Kneeling down beside her, he reached forward and she couldn''t move, completely under his spell. Her breath caught in her throat as his fingers moved to her hair and he pulled out the clip, allowing it to cascade down her back and into the water. "I am merely tending to your needs, my lady," he replied, his mouth turned into a wicked smirk as he gripped her hair and pulled her head back gently to dip it into the water.


    An exhale left her in a rush as both his hands wove to massage through her hair and over her scalp. She was acutely aware that at this angle, her breasts would undoubtedly be on display but she could do nothing but close her eyes and let out a subdued moan as his touch worked over her skin. This was ten times better than when he styled her hair. Her body seemed to crave even the barest touch.


    Suddenly boneless, she allowed him to maneuver her by her head and neck so that her back was to him and then he lifted her hair from the water. The scent of roses filled her nostrils as he upended shampoo onto her head and she kept her eyes closed as his fingers worked it in.


    Heat curled in her belly like molten lava and she felt more relaxed than she''d been in her entire life. It was positively sinful. Gently he dipped her back down, allowing water to cleanse away the soapy mixture with his gentle ministrations. His fingers worked her scalp and then the nape of her neck, sending tingles down her spine each time he brushed the mark they shared.


    When he lifted her head from the water he leaned in close to the shell of her ear before whispering, "Would you like me to continue mistress?" Holy hell. His words sent a thrill of pleasure straight to her core and it served to jolt her from her inaction. She wanted to say yes and she couldn''t keep that truth from herself. It sat on the tip of her tongue as if begging to be spoken.


    "No Sebastian," she replied stiffly and her entire body ached at the words, "You''ve done enough. Fetch me a towel." Even though she couldn''t see him, she could practically feel his smug amusement from behind her before she heard him rise. Damn it. Her body had betrayed her and he had won this round. This had been the most erotic experience of her entire life. Granted she didn''t have much to draw upon.


    Sebastian returned to her line of sight, holding a thick white towel spread open in invitation while his crimson eyes sparkled with mirth and challenge. How much more could she handle from him today? He played dirty which was no surprise. She would need to figure out what made him uncomfortable at some point.


    Keeping her features schooled into a firm glare, Annabel gripped the edges of the basin and pulled herself to stand. The sound of the water cascading down her body to splash into the bath stretched between them as she held his gaze. Heat from the fire warmed her backside as well as the room, making it impossible to blame the way her dusty pink nipples tightened to hard peaks on a chill in the air. He stepped forward without looking down, wrapping the fabric snug around her torso before taking her hand so she could step out onto the wood floor.


    With supernatural speed he moved the chair from her vanity to in front of the fire, holding a comb in his grip as he beckoned her towards it. Annabel eyed him warily, her instincts making her muscles tense momentarily before she stepped into the waiting chair, clutching the towel close. With delicate hands, Sebastian combed and dried her hair in front of the heat of the fire, lulling her into closing her eyes. When he''d finally finished she let out a gentle sigh, slowly reopening her eyes to see Sebastian cleaning up the remnants of her bath.


    It was a good thing she had gotten something out of their bargain. With such skillful hands she may have sold her soul just for his touch. It was dangerous how easily he could manipulate her.


    While he cleaned, Annabel went to the crate and looked in to see everything needed to feed the kitten. It had woken up, letting out gentle cries if hunger so she quickly scooped him up, choosing to feed him before she got dressed for bed.


    At last, once everything had been cleaned and the ball of fur tucked into it''s blankets to sleep, Annabel stood and went to the bed where Sebastian had laid out her nightgown. He had left for the moment so she quickly changed and folded the towel, moving to set it on the vanity.


    The notes she''d made for their trip to her former home lay on the vanity as well and she brushed her fingers over the names she''d inked onto the paper. The name that stood out the most to her was the town''s mayor, Richard Mason. She was planning on saving him for last. She wanted him to fear his impending demise.


    Turning, her emerald eyes met the crimson ones of her demonic butler, not missing the hungry way he stared. Sebastian made no attempt to appear abashed by her discovery but instead walked to her bedside with a tray of tea in his hands. He set it on the nightstand before turning down her sheets.


    "I''ve brought you some chamomile tea my lady," he offered, gesturing to her bed. Annabel nodded and padded around to climb into the four poster bed, taking no small pleasure in the thick plush bedding. Resting her back against the headboard she waited quietly as he poured her a cup.


    Taking it and then a tentative sip she finally spoke, "I want you to wake me when the kitten needs to be fed and ensure there''s enough firewood to keep the room warm through the night," she ordered and he gave a small incline of his head.


    "As you wish mistress," he spoke, low and smooth. She wondered if he even slept. After drinking most of the tea she handed it back and he retreated from the room, tray in tow. Although her mind raced with plans, it took almost no time at all for her to succumb to sleep.


    ------------------------


    Seeing her naked lithe body, backlit by the flames in the hearth had granted his young mistress the appearance of a hellish nymph. She was truly mouthwatering in more ways than one and the anticipation of having her had begun to plague his every thought. And then he''d walked back in to taste her vengeance on the air as she''d looked over her notes. Delicious.


    The demon currently known as Sebastian Michaelis was laying on the bed beside his fiery mistress as she slept, breathing in the scent of her. He was propped on an elbow, stretched out on his side as he watched the low flames from across the room dance over her face. She enticed him, even in sleep, and he ran a bare hand along the fabric of her neckline.


    Annabel let out a sweet whimper of torment, clearly beseeched by nightmares as she was most nights and he relished her troubled moans. He couldn''t help but wonder if pleasure would elicit such tempting sounds.


    A tiny mewling cry suddenly sounded from the small crate at the other end of the room and in the blink of an eye he stood over it. Peering down, he looked upon the fragile grey thing within that could''ve been described as pitiful were he capable of feeling such a weak emotion as pity.


    Bending down, Michaelis scooped up the squirming thing and, for a moment, debated squeezing the life out of it. It would''ve been simpler than breathing and would eliminate this unnecessary distraction from his mistress''s life.


    Teetering on the edge of a decision, he felt the way the creature tried to nurse on his skin. The slight sensation gave him pause and a moment later he was seating himself at the end of the bed, kitten in hand. Hunger was something he understood well. It connected all of them.


    Using a sharp black nail, he made a shallow slice on his opposite pinky finger. Dark blood welled up to flow from the cut and he held the finger up to the kitten''s mouth. Blindly searching, it was rather quick to latch on, nursing the wound with increasing vigor.


    He didn''t know why he did it for certain but then he heard Annabel''s earlier words echo in his mind. Why should I seek to gain something Sebastian? Perhaps there needn''t be a reason for his action. If anything this could prove entertaining. Smirking, Sebastian allowed the tiny thing to drink its fill before placing it back into the box and returning to Annabel''s side. He looked forward to the upcoming trial of her revenge.