At Your Service

Chapter 9- Irrational

That Wednesday morning, the first frost glazed the grass. Marjorie, Solomon, Huko, and Finn stared at the bullet hole in the wall outside Carlisle's room but jumped simultaneously when Carlisle suddenly opened his bedroom door and stepped out into the corridor, fully dressed and cheerful. "Good morning, everyone. How are you all?" They all quickly answered with a variation of saying they were all right. "I apologize for the disturbance early this morning." They assured him they had noticed nothing. Carlisle grinned. "It is time to wake up our mistress. Huko, please prepare breakfast. Marjorie, please set the table. Finn and Solomon, pursue your pre-breakfast endeavors."

    The five dispersed. Carlisle walked down to Anja's bedroom and sensed she was not within before continuing down towards the study. He gently knocked three times on the door. "Madam," he opened the door immediately hearing the radio playing a classical opera, "it's morn-" His eyes went wide with shock and slight horror at the sight before him. Anja lay curled on the altar with her arms wrapped around her abdomen. Her eyes and cheeks were puffy and red, still wet from recent crying, and her nightgown down near her groin was stained red. "My Lady," he gasped as he rushed forward and rolled her onto her back, causing her to wince.

    "I was being extremely irrational last night. I'm sorry," she whispered as a single tear rolled out of the corner of her eye and down her temple, sinking into the peach fuzz of hair on the side of her head. "We could have held a civilized conversation this morning in the garden over some tea or something."

    "You are bleeding quite heavily," he muttered as he quickly put on his reading glasses before lifting her nightgown up, not waiting for her permission. "Oh." There were no visible injuries, only blood-soaked underwear, nightgown, skin, and altar.

    "I can get the blood out of the underwear and the nightgown," she assured him quietly. "I just didn't feel like... moving... and I couldn't, because I didn't have any way to get down from here."

    "My God, Anja, why didn't you call for me?" he sighed as he scooped her up.

    The witch smiled tiredly, eyes twinkling. "You used my name." She wrapped her arms around his shoulders. His voice speaking her name sounded nice.

    "That was a mistake," Carlisle muttered as he swiftly carried her out of the study. "Damion told me they'd be bad, but I had no idea... you deal with this every month?"

    "Sometimes more often than that," Anja murmured. "I have endometriosis."

    Carlisle blinked. "Endo-"

    "It's okay. I'm still fertile. The contract is safe," she assured him quickly.

    "I'm not concerned about a bloody contract right now," Carlisle argued, accidentally playing with how it was a blood contract.

    Anja suddenly scowled. "You're a demon. Can't you whip us to the bathroom in seconds?"

    "That would cause you an extreme amount of nausea that I'm sure wouldn't help you in this situation."

    The witch blinked and frowned, feeling queasy just thinking about it. "You're right."

    Once they were in the bathroom, he set her in the bathtub fully clothed and turned the water on. "At least your burns and scars are healed to the point to allow submergence and airing. I will plug the drain soon." Anja nodded with a little grin. "Are you feeling all right?"

    "May I have some ibuprofen and water?"

    Carlisle, without responding, stood and walked over to the vanity and opened the medicine chest to find the bottle of ibuprofen, dumped two into his hand, and filled a paper cup with water before returning. Blood stained the water in the bottom of the tub red. "My respect for you has increased tenfold over the last six hours alone."

    "You've never even seen me use magic," Anja chuckled.

    "I'm sure it will only increase the longer I am in your service." He brushed her cheek with the back of his hands, the gloves now soaked in water and one stained with blood. "You're awfully clammy and pale. Marjorie!" he called out. As if on cue, the maid entered the bathroom, gasping at the pitiful sight of her mistress in the tub. "Would you please fetch Madam Vandiver a glass of apple juice and a few saltines."

    "Right away, Mr. Lomen." She curtsied before promptly exiting.

    Carlisle turned his attention back to Anja. After a few moments, he said, "I hope my mistress's thoughts of me have not soured."

    Anja stared at him as he stared back with a soft gaze before setting a hand limply on top of one of his as it gripped the rim of the tub. "I knew from the start you weren't human. You have an aura that isn't found in humans, but it isn't quite as malicious as those of other demons. Maybe because you have my parents' souls, and it's changing it, but... I was never afraid of you. I never sensed you were there to cause me harm." She paused, chewing on her bottom lip. "Are the tattoos permanent?"

    Carlisle grinned. "Only until I fail or succeed," he assured her, running a hand through the long section of her hair. Marjorie came in with the apple juice and crackers and handed them to the butler. "Thank you, Marjorie." He handed the witch the glass of apple juice and one of the three saltines. The maid curtsied again before leaving. Anja nibbled on the cracker and chased it down with apple juice.

    Later that morning, Anja took a walk out in the gardens. She wore a long green gown and her hair in a braid again. Carlisle followed distantly.

    "Is this your first service?" Anja suddenly called out as she bent down in front of a bush to pluck some berries off of it.

    The demon gave a hearty chuckle. "By no means, madam."

    "Have you ever failed?"

    "Never, madam." The butler was suddenly standing right behind her. "I plan not to start with you."

    "Do you care about me?"

    Carlisle was a little taken aback by the question, as he thought the answer was obvious. "Well, I care very much for your physical and emotional well being."

    "Is it because you're obligated to by contract?"

    "Certainly not. My contract only orders me to keep you alive. I have no reason to care about you getting minorly injured, sick, or mentally or emotionally distressed. In fact, I consider it one of my weaknesses to get attached to my masters."

    "Doesn't that make you better at your job?" Anja wondered as she stood up, a little unbalanced.

    Carlisle gently grabbed her upper arms to balance her. When she looked up at the butler, his gaze was soft and forlorn, but something seemed different about his eyes, something she couldn't place. She dismissed it as the sunlight shining onto his face, but his eyes were redder than she had previously thought. "I suppose it does, but it makes it hard when the job is done."