At Your Service

Chapter 13- Lick

 The looks on the faces of the three other servants when the blood-covered butler carrying their blood-covered mistress through the double doors of the mansion were priceless.

"What the bloody hell happened?!" Finn shrieked, unaware of his joke.

"The people who caused this whole mess have seen justice," the witch informed them. She was highly nauseous; Carlisle had used his supernatural transportation abilities to return to the mansion from the mansion of the man that had held her captive. "We may sleep peacefully from now on." She smiled, an unsettling sight when drenched in someone else's blood.

"Is dinner prepared?" Carlisle questioned inquisitively, daring them to tell him it wasn't.

"Just about, sir," Huko said. "I was going to wait for the finishing touches for when you two returned."

Carlisle was about to argue, but he appreciated the thought. "That will give the mistress and I time to make ourselves presentable before dinner." He bowed, Anja still in his arms, before beginning to walk up the grand staircase. This mansion was identical to their primary home in structure, but, as the décor was primarily scarlet and gold there, it was teal and silver here.

"How did you find me, by the way?"

Carlisle turned his head to look at her, their faces very close. "The sigil acts as a sort of tracker. As I always know where you are, you may have a vague sense of where I am regarding distance."

Anja stared, a little startled by this information. "Oh."

Later that night, Carlisle was about to go ask Anja if she wanted some tea, as he thought she was studying again, when he sensed her presence in the kitchen, so he headed there. A harsh rain battered against the walls and windows of the mansion with the occasional boom of thunder. Storms were quite bad out on the lake. When he walked into the kitchen, he saw Anja at the sink filling a pot with hot water. She was wearing a pair of dark grey joggers, fluffy black socks over her fake feet, a white muscle shirt, and a flowy burgundy cardigan. Her long hair was tied back in a messy, loose braid. She had been able to heal the cuts on her face, but there was only so much she could do for bruises, as they were under the skin, and the particular potion used for them required ingredients she currently didn't possess at the summer home.

"Hello, madam," Carlisle greeted as he walked over. He didn't wear a suit jacket,a tie, or a vest, just a white dress shirt, pants, and shoes. He was entirely healed from his bullet wounds.

"Good evening, Carlisle," Anja sighed with a smile before walking over and putting the pot on the stove, using only one crutch since her other hand was busy. Once it was on, she leaned against the counter of the island in the centre of the kitchen and faced him. "Did the bullets hurt?"

"As much as it would hurt you, madam," the demon replied, "though demons have a much higher pain tolerance than any mortal."

Anja sighed, but breathing hurt. "I'm sorry." She looked down at the floor. "I know this is your job and all, but I still don't want you to get hurt for me."

Carlisle scowled as he leaned against the counter at the hip. "The fault is mine, my Lady. I didn't realize witch hunters would go as far as to use magic to fight magical beings." Anja looked back up when she felt a silk-covered finger caress her jawline, ghosting over one of the darker bruises on her face. "Usually, most facial injuries are on the left side of the face because of right-handedness."

"I think he was ambidextrous," Anja murmured, "because he used both hands... brass knuckles on both hands."

Carlisle's mouth was set in a hard frown, but his gaze was soft as he moved to stand in front of her, but the witch quickly slid past to walk over to the stove, where the tea kettle had begun to steam and give a quiet whistle. Carlisle watched as she plopped three sugar cubes into the pot and stirred them in before pouring herself a cup. As she did this, the cardigan slipped off her left shoulder to reveal another dark bruise. "Madam, your injuries are more extensive than I previously thought," he stated darkly.

"I'm all right." She pulled the cardigan back up once she was done with pouring the tea. She picked up the cup and saucer before starting to head towards the doors as quickly as she could with her one crutch, amputated legs, and sore body, but the butler gently put an arm out to stop her, wrapping an arm around her waist and careful not to cause her to spill her tea.

"There is a method I can use to heal the bruises, but you may find it uncomfortable," Carlisle stated, looking down to the ground as he didn't wish to see her reaction.

"What is it?" Anja, now curious, set the tea down on the surface of the island. She watched the demon clench and unclench his jaw before looking up, looking as though he felt awkward.

"Hellhounds, like normal dogs and cats, lick themselves not only to clean, but to heal wounds. Being a hellhound myself," he looked ashamed, "my tongue and lips have the ability to heal wounds such as cuts and bruises." Anja looked up at the demon, and he wouldn't look at her, just continued looking down, but she noticed his eyes were glowing again. "I only offer because I don't want you to be in pain when I can easily help you. Don't feel pressured to agree to it to save my feelings, because I wouldn't be offended in the slightest if you declined."

"I would like to move without hurting," she whispered, "but I want to be clear that this isn't in any way—"

"Of course not," he interrupted understandingly, but he could feel her pulse quickening. "If the thought is making you nervous..."

"I've never..." Anja blurted out, then had to rethink her words. "I've had a boyfriend, but we never had a... physically involved relationship... I've never even been... and, you know, I want this to be of your own free will, because you can, not because you feel obligated to."

Carlisle stared at her, his gaze both soft but locked on her heterochromatic eyes. "Which ones would you like me to heal?"