Carlisle stood outside of the ballroom in the hallway, the slightly shaking tray in his hands causing the glasses on it to rattle, staring blankly ahead and breathing heavily. What the fuck was Ashley doing there? Why was he dancing with the master, and why was the master dancing with him? The butler couldn't help, however, but be impressed by the master, as he never taught the witch to tango and doubted the witch had ever danced a tango in the past. He couldn't tell if he was jealous or angry or both and, if he was jealous, of whom. He would have to figure out what Ashley's motive for attending the funeral was later, as he sensed there was a disaster about to occur in the kitchen.
Ansel knew something was wrong with him, that Ashley had some degree of control over him, but he found himself incapable of doing anything about it; he felt as if he were trapped within a cage of intoxication. He barely knew how they went from dancing in the ballroom to Ashley pushing the witch into a random room, slamming the door behind him, and shoving the witch against a wall as their lips locked. The smell of his French cologne infiltrated Ansel's nose. The man let out a sharp exhalation through his nose as he sucked on and bit the witch's bottom lip. Ansel barely noticed as the hand on their hip left as the man's other hand wrapped around their throat with just enough pressure to make their mind even cloudier.
Ashley suddenly stepped back, smiling wide as the hand in his pocket came out with a little metal cube. Ansel stared blankly, unable to even feel curious about what it was the stranger was holding; they were unable to feel anything. The man's eyes sparkled gleefully as he pressed a button on the side of the object with his thumb. "Thank you for giving me my demon back," he purred adoringly as a little green flame ignited.
Carlisle returned to the ballroom after reprimanding Huko for attempting to clean the grill with a blow torch. As his eyes scanned the room, he neither found Ansel nor Ashley, and it felt as though an iron ball had dropped to the bottom of his stomach as he froze, stopping dead in his tracks. He could always feel the witch, no matter how far away; now, he could feel nothing but haze, surely the work of the angel in their company. He scrunched his eyes shut and stretched out his field of sense throughout the mansion. He felt blocked out, shoved away from a certain sector of the mansion, but it lit up as he sensed the presence of witch's fire.
In seconds, he was in the corridor and was only clueless about where to go for a second, because he suddenly saw an explosion of green light coming from beneath a door and the sound of his master screaming.
Carlisle burst through the doors and only caught a glimpse of Ashley smiling and waving tauntingly at him before disappearing. Everything flared green, making it nearly impossible for the butler to see Ansel, now snapped out of his trance, standing on the bed as if it were a raft and trying to make a water wall around him to try to keep the flames away from him; unfortunately, the water kept evaporating, as there wasn't enough to combat the fire. Impervious to the flames, the demon launched himself at the bed through the flames and water, snatched the witch, and crashed through the window and into the night at Mach 20. Ansel clung to the demon, everything happening too fast to scream, as they plummeted about two hundred feet down towards the ground.
Carlisle landed on the grass as if he were stepping off of the last stair of a staircase and gently set his master down on their feet before dashing back into the mansion to evacuate guests and the servants. Meanwhile, Ansel stared up at the green light shooting through the window of the burning room, trying to think of how to either extinguish or remove the fire. As witches, four humans, and one demon exited the mansion, Ansel looked to the lake in the distance, an ample supply of water, with their arms extended out towards it. Their power buzzed in the air as the distant sound of waves crashing intensified. Several dozen witches and every human present besides Solomon screamed as a tidal wave of lake water surged towards the mansion. When it was about to hit the crowd, it parted, flew upwards, and crashed through the remnants of the window of the burning room.
After about ten seconds, the green light extinguished and water poured out of the window from the room and flowed back towards the lake, leaving the grass flattened and the soil soaked.
Without the support of their crutches, the witch began falling back in AN attempt to land sitting on the ground as an intense fatigue filled them, but two arms slipped underneath their arms and caught them before gently lowering them to the ground. Carlisle knelt, letting his master's torso rest in his lap and their head against his chest. Ansel was hyperventilating, not sure if he was about to faint, throw up, scream, or start sobbing.
"My Lord." Ansel looked up to see the demon looking down with concerned russet eyes and a deep frown. "Look up to the stars and breathe." Ansel nodded and looked up at the clear, starry sky, trying to calm his breathing. "Relax," the demon whispered as he slowly swiped a thumb across the witch's forehead, causing their eyes to fall closed and their body and mind to fall asleep. He stood, cradling Ansel's limp body in his arms, and turned to face the crowd. "My master is overcome with fatigue," he announced, sounding tired himself. "He extends an apology for the scare and gratitude for your presence tonight. The night is ended. Have safe travels home."
YOU ARE READING
At Your Service
Fantasy{Book 2} One of the most noble, prestigious, and powerful of witch families in the country, the Vandivers, are targeted, successfully killing all but their only child. Before their untimely, gruesome death, Master and Mistress Vandiver summoned a de...
