At Your Service

Chapter 11- Mistaken

 The next morning, Carlisle, Solomon, Finn, and Huko met in the lounge at the time they had discussed they would be ready to leave at. Solomon sat in a recliner with a cup of tea, totally calm. Finn fidgeted with the strings of his pants and Huko chewed nervously on a fresh toothpick. Carlisle stood by the fireplace, staring down into the fire, letting his agitation burn with the flames.

"What could be takin' those girls so damn long?" Huko grumbled.

"Indeed," Carlisle whispered before booking it towards the elevator. Once he was standing outside their room, he knocked rather harshly on the door. "Miss Vandiver? Miss Marjorie?" There was no response. The demon stepped through the locked door and opened it from the other side so nobody knew he had gone through the door using his supernatural powers before turning around.

The window was open, the curtains swishing in the chilly breeze. Anja's bed looked slept in, only a little messy, but not as though there was a struggle. Anja's crutches, prosthetics, and wheelchair were all there in the corner, so Anja could not have gotten far.

Marjorie was fast asleep, everything but her head buried under the duvet. Carlisle took a step forward when he caught the faintest whiff of blood. He looked to one of the pillows and saw a tiny drop of it on the white case. The other men stood outside of the room. He stomped over to Marjorie's bed and sat on the edge of it before pulling the duvet down just enough to see her neck, where a little drop of blood had begun to creep down her skin from a single prick.

"Marjorie has been drugged and Anja is missing," Carlisle muttered as he brushed some hair out of Marjorie's face before wrapping her in his arms, picking her up, and carrying her out of the room, the sheets clinging to her body briefly, as if they didn't want her to leave, before slipping off. The three men followed him.

"My god, what are we going to do, Carlisle?!" Finn shrieked just as the phone in the women's bedroom began to ring.

Carlisle, with a curious eyebrow raised, carried Marjorie back into the room and laid her back down in time to pick up the phone. "This is a representative of the Vandiver household. How may I serve you?"

"Oh, I just wanted you to know that Anja Vandiver will be dead by sunset today," a male voice announced bluntly.

Carlisle hummed tentatively to himself whilst tapping his chin with the tip of his finger. "You think so?" the butler wondered.

"I know so."

"I believe you're mistaken," the butler sighed.

"What makes you so certain that this bloody witch won't die today?" the man growled.

Carlisle chuckled, almost purring into the phone. "Because, I'm a killer butler. I will see you before sunset." Carlisle hung up the phone before picking up Marjorie again.

"Who could that have been, Carlisle?" Solomon wondered, seemingly oblivious to the situation.

"Miss Vandiver has been taken, and I will get her back. First, however, we must revive Marjorie." He carried her down to one end of the hallway, where the women's restroom was located, entered the bathroom, and locked the door despite it having several stalls. He stood her up as best as he could and leaned her against the wall, keeping one hand between her clavicles to keep her upright while he filled the sink with cold water. While it filled, he observed the maid until he saw the knuckles of her right hand beginning to bruise and tiny bruises forming on her throat. "Oh, dear, darling Marjorie," he whispered sadly. When he turned off the water, he grabbed the vase of fake flowers on the vanity, dumped the contents out onto the ground, and filled the vase with the cold water before dumping it on the maid's head. As brutal as it seemed, he saw no other way to bring her to consciousness without waiting for her to wake up naturally.

As hoped, the maid's eyes flashed open, and she gasped as the frigid water now ran through her hair and down her face, chest, and back. Even through her blurred vision, she could see that the one who had done it was Carlisle. Her eyes immediately welled up with tears. "Mr. Lomen, I'm-I'm so sorry," she began shivering, "I woke up and the men were drugging Anja, and I got up and fought with all I had, but they choked me and drugged me until I was out, but I-" She was suddenly enveloped in an embrace, arms secure around her torso and a gloved hand resting on the back of her head. The side of her face rested on his chest; she could hear his heartbeat, strong and calm.

"You fought with all your might, and that's all I asked you to do." Carlisle stroked her hair. "You did your job, and you did it well, though I regret that you were harmed in the process."

The maid timidly wrapped her arms around his waist. "Anything for Miss Anja."

"Yes," he stepped back, breaking the hug, "which is why I shall go and get her back now."

Marjorie scowled, blinking madly to try to see clearer. "How do you plan to do that?!"

Carlisle smiled as he slipped the maid's glasses out of his breast pocket before carefully unfolding them and placing them meticulously on her ears and nose. "I have my ways." He smiled wider before guiding her out of the bathroom, as she was still under partial influence of the drug. The three men had been waiting out in the hallway in anticipation.

"You four finish the journey," Carlisle ordered. "Take both carriages and all of the luggage. Get things ready for Miss Vandiver's return. The mistress and I will attempt to be back in time for dinner, as we'd hate to be late."

"Will she be all right?" Marjorie wondered.

"Of course, she will," Carlisle assured her with far too much confidence to be unsuspicious.

"How can you be so sure?" she rejoindered. For a second, she could've sworn his eyes glowed red violet, but it was gone in the blink of an eye, so she passed it off as the drug.

Carlisle's lips curled into a mischievous smirk. "I've never failed, and I don't intend on starting now."