I watched, anger boiling in the pit of my stomach, as Clary casually walked over to where Sebastian was still held, immobile, by the iron spikes, and reaching up, her eyes gleaming with something unreadable, ran a finger down the pale skin of his cheek, as she said softly, "Funny, isn't it? How iron, one of the most basic, common elements of this world, can render one of the most powerful dark beings completely powerless?" Her lips curled into a sadistic smile, as her hand dropped from Sebastian's face. "Also funny, is how, just like my previous example, I, a common, underworld London waif, can bring the most powerful nobility of London to their knees at my feet."
"Can we cut the shit and get on with this?" I growled out between clenched teeth, struggling again against the hands that held me on the ground, and in turn, receiving a sharp knee to the back, which left me slightly winded as I crumpled forward, glancing up at Clary as I gasped out, breathlessly, around the pain in my lower back, "Enough theatrics, Clary. What are you going to do with us?"
"Ahhh (F/N)." Clary sighed, almost as if she were disappointed in me, as her hand sank beneath the fabric of her dress, reemerging with a wicked looking dagger held casually between her fingers. She raised the blade and inspected it boredly, as she drawled patiently, "You always were one to get right to the point and spoil my fun."
She spun on her heel, stalking back toward me, and crouching down in front of me, fingers going roughly around my chin, as she wrenched my gaze up to meet hers, her eyes dark, she grinned, flashing teeth in my direction, as she traced the line of my cheekbone with the tip of the dagger. "Let's begin then, if that's what you so desperately want."
Standing, she flicked her fingers to the man who held me, almost in a bored manner, as she commanded, "Take off her gloves."
I struggled, but it was no use, as the man jerked me to my feet and pulled the long, velvet gloves from my arms, my skin prickling with goosebumps as it was suddenly bared to the chilly air fo the ballroom. Shoving me forward, the man followed Clary as her steps once again brought her to stand in front of the incapacitated Sebastian, and turning, her smile still smug on her lips, she pointed at me with the knife, as she said, her voice fakely saccharine, "Now. Since you wanted to play so badly, we're going to engage in a little game." She flicked the knife over her shoulder without looking, the point now directed at Sebastian. "Touch him."
Triumph rose in my stomach at her words, and I stood a little straighter, as the man once again pushed me forward, closing the distance between Sebastian and I, so I was standing beside Clary, and directly in front of the demon, close enough to reach out and touch him.
She must not know. She couldn't know, that my powers had no effect on demons whatsoever.
"It won't work." I glared at her, my voice laced with smugness, as the man released his hold on my hands, allowing me to stand freely before Clary, arms and hands bared. "It doesn't work on demons."
"Ah ah ah." Clary waved the knife at me, surprise flashing across her face, and her voice chiding, as if I were a student who didn't know something they were supposed to. "It doesn't work when he has control of his powers." Her brow raised, and her mouth opened wide, in faked shock, as she regarded the surprise that flashed across my own face at her words. "Oh, did you not know? This is rich." She flashed me a smirk, full lips pulling upward, as she glanced up to Sebastian and then back to me. "Did your little demon not tell you that, (F/N)?" She stalked around me, looking me up and down, as I stood, motionless, disbelief coursing through me. "You can touch him, if he allows it. It's simply more smoke and mirrors. The entire time he allows you to touch him, he has to use his powers as a wall, to keep you from incinerating him, to keep you at a distance. It's not an easy task. It takes great concentration. And now, now that I have rendered those powers useless...." She paused, coming to stand in front of me, nose almost touching my own, voice dropping dangerously, "You. Can. Burn. Him."
Each word pummeled my heart like a ten stone brick as it dropped from her curved lips with such satisfaction, and suddenly, my breath was catching in my throat, and the man's hands were once again shoving me forward, and Clary was reaching for my wrist, her long fingers cold as they wrapped around my forearm, and she's raising, slowly, my exposed hand toward Sebastian's pale, glimmering flesh, and suddenly, I am fighting, pulling against her, my voice torn from my throat as I started to scream.
"You bitch! Stop! I won't touch him! You'll have to kill me first!" I writhed in the man's grip, but I couldn't break free of Clary's iron hold on my arm, and as I desperately curled my fingers into my palm, trying to lengthen the ever decreasing distance between my fingers and Sebastian's skin, I felt as if I was choking on everything I had just learned.
Sebastian let me touch him. And he wasn't safe from me, he never had been. He had lied. He had used copious amounts of will and power to keep himself safe from me, simply so that I could experience the feel of human skin beneath my fingertips. Why would he do that?
Why? Why? Why?
"(F/N)."
I stopped my frenzied, useless movements instantly at the sound of his voice, low, velvet, calm, as he said my name, and flicking my gaze up to his, his pupils wide, irises swirling dark crimson, I felt my breath return to my chest.
HIs lips curled, into the smirk that I knew so well, yet there was something almost gentle behind his intense gaze, as he murmured, "I'll be fine."
I realized, standing there, staring up at him, that Clary's movements had ceased, and though her fingers were still wrapped firmly around my wrist, she was still, staring with interest, first at Sebastian, and then me, before she threw her head back and started to laugh.
The sound was loud, echoing off the walls of the ballroom, and demented, crazy, almost, as she finally released me, stepping back slightly as she held her arms out wide at her sides, eyes large with discovery, as she cackled out, "Holy shit. You care about him. You care about the demon." She laughed again, ducking her head for a moment, knife still held firmly in her hand. "Well, this is a development I did not see coming."
I stood, waiting for her to finish, motionless, in front of Sebastian, the man hovering at my side, yet not grabbing me, waiting for his mistress's commands.
Finally, Clary collected herself, and wiping at her eyes, mirth still evident in the lines around her mouth, she let out a long breath, sharp eyes refocusing on me, as she said smoothly, "This changes everything. Tell me, (F/N)." Clasping her hands behind her back, she began to pace the small length of the floor in front of me. "What would you do to keep the demon safe? What lengths would you go to to make sure I keep him from harm?"
"I'm not playing your sick game, Clary." I spat out, eyes following her movements warily, panic slowly beginning to fill my throat at her incessant line of questioning about Sebastian. "I'm not a pawn for you to use for your own amusement."
"You realize," She continued, steepling her fingers in front of her face, as she continued to pace, stepping around the congealing puddles of Sebastian's blood that darkened the floor. "That as a demon, he feels no emotion? That he will never, ever, care about you in return?" She paused, coming to stand in front of me once again, eyes darkened with deranged interest. "You realize, that though you say you are not my pawn, you are most definitely one of his, yes?"
I pressed my lips into a thin line, refusing to answer her question, and after a moment of silence, she sighed heavily, twirling the dagger between her fingers, watching the metal flash in the candlelight before she said, voice lowered, "Fine. Let's play another game then." Her gaze met my own, her expression unreadable. "The dagger he gave you. Retrieve it."
"How do you know about that?" I asked in disbelief, hand dropping down to my thigh and going protectively over the dagger hidden there.
"I know many things, (F/N). Many things." Her eyes flashed dangerously, and she motioned with her fingers to my own hand, still covering the dagger. "Come on. Show it to me."
Reluctantly, eyes never leaving her face, I pulled back the fabric of my overcoat and pulled out the dagger from its sheath, the engraved leaves and vines on the blade glinting and flashing in the flickering light from the candles, as I hesitated, before pressing the knife into her outstretched palm.
She lifted the dagger to the light, her own forgotten, as she studied the blade and handle, letting out a low whistle beneath her breath as she flashed Sebastian a look of appreciation. "It's a beautiful blade, demon, I'll give you that much credit. You know your daggers."
Studying the knife for one more brief moment, she tossed it back to me, hands going once again behind her back, as she flicked long blonde hair over her shoulder, and eyes locked with mine, waved behind her, toward Ciel, silent and motionless, still held by the two men across the length of the ballroom.
"Kill Ciel Phantomhive."
"Excuse me?" I choked out, caught off guard by her casually uttered statement.
She crossed to stand in front of me, brushing a strand of hair behind my ear, almost in an affectionate manner, as she said, softer this time, "Kill Ciel Phantomhive. And I'll let you and your demon lover go."
Almost unbidden, my eyes flicked past her to the stone like form of the young boy on the other side of the room, and then, up to Sebastian, his face expressionless, although, I could tell, by the slight lines around the stern line of his mouth, that her request had pained him, even though he would never admit it.
"No." I said loudly, resolutely, as I dropped the dagger at her feet. Her eyes widened slightly, as if she had expected me to take her offer with no holds barred, and I felt slight satisfaction at her look of shock.
She took in a deep breath through her nose, and when she spoke again, there was shattered patience in her voice, as if she was trying to be long suffered with an ill behaved child, but annoyance was beginning to slip through, "Let me explain something to you, (F/N)." She picked up the discarded dagger, testing the point of the blade with the pad of her finger. "You care about the demon, yes? Then kill Ciel Phantomhive, do this one thing, and I'll let you both go. You can be with him, even though you're nothing more than his play thing, for eternity or whatever shit they ordain in hell." Her eyes flashed, before she reigned in her irritation once again, forcing her lips into something akin to a smile, as her voice lowered, "Kill Ciel Phantomhive, and you can have the demon. Don't kill the boy, and I'll kill you all, right here, right now, and I'll make sure you watch them both suffer before I take care of you last."
"Oh, I understood your offer the first time." I replied calmly, the annoyance flashing more boldly across her face at my unruffled words. "But my answer is still no."
Her eyes darkened, and the calm facade Clary had been hiding behind cracked, as she hissed out between clenched teeth, pretty face twisting into a look of unadulterated rage, my dagger clenched in a whitening fist, "You little bitch. Why?"
"Because, if I care about Sebastian the way you say I do," I remained cool in the face of her anger, eyes never leaving her face, voice unwavering, "Then the last thing I would do to him is take Ciel Phantomhive out of his life."
"Why?" She growled again, clearly not understanding what I was saying, as her fingers flexed, over and over, around the dagger in her hand.
"They're all each other has left." I replied simply, the truth of what I was saying resonating in my core, as I raised my chin, looking directly into Clary's soul, daring her to act on her anger. "You say demons don't experience emotion, they don't feel, but you're wrong, Clary. Sebastian cares about Ciel Phantomhive, and that brat, though I may dislike him, cares about Sebastian. And if I care about Sebastian, which I do, then I need to make sure Ciel Phantomhive gets out of this little game of yours alive."
"You bitch." Clary repeated, her voice shaking, body trembling with rage, and I saw, in her eyes, in the moment, that she knew, I had ruined her game. It was all crumbling around her. Nothing was going to plan.
And she hated it.
Lunging toward me, Clary's boot connected soundly with my stomach, and I coiled into myself from the impact, going down on hands and knees, as I coughed, trying to catch my lost breath. My heart was pounding loudly in my ears, and I didn't have time to react, as Clary continued her assault, stalking toward my downed figure, eyes burning, as she kicked me again, sending me skittering uselessly across the tile of the floor.
I pushed myself back up onto my knees, as she continued toward me, a maniacal smile beginning to take place on her face, as she called out, voice frenzied, "When will you learn, (F/N), to just," She hit me across the face with the hilt of the dagger, sending me sprawling once again, yet she didn't stop, as she dragged me upward again by the collar of my coat, forcing me to meet her insane gaze, as she continued between clenched teeth, "stay," She kneed me, for the third time in the stomach, but didn't let me drop from the impact, holding my limp body in her hands as she grinned down at me, "down?"
My nose was bleeding, the crimson liquid dripping warm, down across my lips and onto the front of my coat, and I spit in her face, the saliva coppery in my mouth as the blood mixed with the spittle that coated her face, as I grunted out, "Go to hell."
"Oh, don't worry." She released one of her hands from the collar of my coat, swiping it across her face, removing my spit from her skin, the grin dropping slightly into something more serious, more deadly, more angry. "I'll be sure to tell your little demon to give his regards when I send him back there."
And then, before I had time to react, she lifted the dagger, the dagger that Sebastian had gifted me, still clenched in her first, her knuckles white, and drove it into my stomach.
My mouth fell open as the knife buried up to the hilt in my flesh and muscle and organs, the pain not kicking in for a moment, as I stared into the eyes of the woman in front of me, the evil, smug smile once again tugging at her lips, as she released her hold on my coat, letting me fall back away from her.
I stumbled backwards and fell to my hands and knees on the floor, mouth still gaping like a landed fish, as I struggled to breathe. I glanced down at the dagger, the blade out of sight inside of me, and noted, numbly, hazily, that blood, my blood, was dripping down the hilt in scarlet streams and puddling on the tile beneath my body. I coughed, once, violently, and my spit was speckled with more of the crimson liquid, copper and bitter and violent on my tongue.
"That was almost too easy." Clary mused, watching me for another brief moment through half lidded eyes, as she turned on her heel, once again headed toward Sebastian, another knife pulled from the folds of her gown, and I heard her say, her voice sounding as if it were underwater through the blood rushing loudly in my ears, "Now. Let's take care of you next, demon."
"No." I groaned out weakly, scrabbling against the floor in an effort to rise, all energy quickly being sapped from my body as the blood continued to seep out of me. I managed to get up to one knee, and said stronger, louder this time, my foggy vision focused on Clary's retreating form, "No!"
She paused, midstep, and turning slowly, her eyes flashing with hot anger, mouth twisting in displeasure, she asked in a low, warning tone, "What did you just say?"
"I said," I pushed myself up on to my other knee, the knife, still embedded in my stomach, burning and burying deeper with every movement I made. Blood was pooling in the corners of my mouth, and I spit on the floor, trying to rid my mouth of the liquid that was making my tongue thick, before I met Clary's rage filled glared once again, straightening slightly as I said firmly, "No."
"That's what I thought you said." Clary began to walk toward me once again, eyes dark and teeth pulled back to bare her teeth in a menacing manner. "Like I said, you never know when to quit, do you (F/N)? Just," She took another step. "Stay," She held up the second dagger, eyes glinting with something manic as she reached me. "Down!"
And then, in a flash of movement, using the last of my meager strength, and before she could bring her knife down on me, I surged to my feet, and ripping the ornamental dagger from my stomach in one smooth movement, I sunk the knife directly into Mory's stomach, just as she had done to me only moments before.
I stood there, holding the hilt, buried in her vital organs, as her mouth fell open, and her fist, holding the second dagger, opened reflexively, dropping the knife with a clatter at her feet, as a trickle of blood, burgundy and shining, dribbled from her mouth and down her chin.
"You....bitch." She choked out, spewing bloodied spittle into my face, as she stumbled over her words, already sagging, eyes wide with disbelief as she stared down at the hilt of the knife protruding from her abdomen, my blood covered knuckles wrapped firmly around the offending weapon.
I leaned toward her, putting my lips to her ear, the wound in my own stomach bleeding profusely, our blood mixing and falling to the floor at our feet like some macabre waterfall, and then, before I released her and let her fall, I whispered, my voice laced with a balance of hatred and triumph, "I guess you'll just have to give my regards in Hell yourself."
I shoved her away from me, and she stumbled and fell backward, grappling on the floor for a moment, her hands, blood stained nails, waving uselessly around her body, and then she was still, and it was silent.
And my legs were buckling beneath my weight once again, and everything was out of focus, and blackness was seeping into the edges of my vision, my mouth filled with the taste of my own blood, and just before I passed out, I heard someone calling my name, and then, I was sure that it was just my own fevered imagination in the moments just before death, but I swore I heard a very familiar voice-velvety and low and slightly annoyed-utter one last statement as I slipped into unconsciousness.
"I care about you too, you idiot."