Chapter II : One Strange Journey

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The days are a death-wish, a witch-hunt for an exit, I am powerless...

"I – How can you know this? I don't understand—"

"Your soul, my love." Sebastian shook his head. He had finished fixing his shirt, and begun the work on his chain and waistjacket. "It is stained. It appears that you have been fornicating with others of my kind – dear, dear, that is naughty. Your pet is not going to be very happy. Where is he? He must be close, we really can't stray too far from our masters."

"He's dead," I replied bluntly, stepping into my dress. "Why are you here? I have no business with your kind anymore." And Dorian was not a pet.

"I'm afraid I can't answer that without discussing matters with my master first. You see, this whole affair appears to be a lot more complicated than we previously thought." In the act of him pulling on his gloves, I saw it – the pitch black contract seal, burned into his hand. It stood out clearly against his skin – so the bargain was still active. "And I cannot leave you here. You might... ah, run away."

"I have work to do," I said stubbornly; what did he mean? Where was he going to take me? He couldn't possibly mean...

"And so do I. My young master will need to speak with you." He smiled at me, and held out his gloved hand. "Now. Are you going to come with me willingly, or shall I have to persuade you?"

I swallowed. "I'll come."

"Good girl." Sebastian held the door open. "After you."

As soon as we came downstairs, and exited through the front door of the bar – drawing strange stares from most of the regulars – there was a cab waiting outside, large and black and intimidating. I had never been in a hansom before, but I had seen many a horse driver strike down unwitting pedestrians in the streets. However, I wasn't about to make a scene.

Heart pounding, I pulled the door open myself and clambered into the cushioned interior. Sebastian sat in after me, on the opposite side, and knocked on the roof once.

"Phantomive Manor," the cabbie called, whistled through his teeth, and the cab set off.

Oh, Lord, this was horrendously bumpy. I dug my fingernails into the leather seats and shut my eyes – and all of that awful clopping! Why would anyone wish to travel this way?

"Are you alright?" An amused voice asked me.

I shook my head, grinding my teeth together. "This is horrific."

"What, the hansom?" Sebastian pretended to sound surprised. "But it is such an efficient manner of travel. We'll be at the Manor in a mere hour and a half."

"An hour and a half?!" I screeched, my eyes flying open; Sebastian was grinning at me. "No. I – I can't, I must get out –"

"Would you rather I carried you?" He replied with an arched eyebrow.

"Frankly, yes." I gave a heavy sigh and slumped back into the seat. "I feel ill."

"Please, try not to puke. You look rather green."

"Really? I never would have guessed!"

"Sarcasm is the lowest form of wit, Miss Ashdown."

"Oh, shut up." I folded my arms across my chest, shivering slightly; it was cold. I knew it had been raining previously, but I didn't exactly have an abundance of furs to choose from.

"Would you like a jacket?"

"No. Thank you." I paused. "So... you and Earl Phantomhive, you are in... a bargain, together?"

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