The Hunt for Jack the Ripper (The Phantomhive Diaries #1)

32. Ciel Phantomhive

Ciel emitted a soft, pained groan as he was suddenly lifted from the frigid floor with unexpected tenderness. A warm hand gently pressed against his cheek, causing him to clench his teeth in agony. It reminded him of the way Madam Red used to hold him whenever he fell ill as a young child. His heart thudded loudly in his ears, his stomach twisted in excruciating pain, and his head throbbed after Vanel repeatedly struck him in the face. His thoughts swirled incessantly, trapped in an unending whirlpool. The taste of bile crept up his throat, making him desperately want to vomit. But he couldn't succumb to such weakness. He fought against the urge, knowing that Vanel would ridicule him for giving in. If Sebastian were to witness him in this state, he would likely do the same. Ciel understood he had to remain strong for the time being.

"Are you all right?" a voice suddenly asked. A familiar voice.

The Chinese boy.

Ciel's eyes fluttered open and there he was, kneeling in front of him.

He gritted his teeth viciously. "You."

If only his ankles weren't bound tightly, Ciel would have gladly delivered a swift kick to his opponent's groin. They were in such proximity that Ciel could have even used his own head to bash him. Alas, Ciel lacked the necessary strength and energy to execute either of these actions. Besides, it would only intensify the agony he was already enduring.

The Chinese boy sighed and brought up a glass of water. "Here. Drink this. You'll feel better afterwards, surely."

Ciel stared suspiciously at the glass of water, contemplating the possibility of it being poisoned. It was probably Vanel's doing, no doubt. Sebastian had already mentioned his impending arrival. Maybe Vanel was trying to get rid of him before Sebastian showed up. Despite his indifference towards death, Ciel was not about to meet his end in such a sneaky manner.

"No," he said.

"Come on," the boy insisted, "You need to drink."

"What do you want?" Ciel said.

"I need you to drink," he said. However, Ciel could only glare at him. "Please. Vanel doesn't know I'm here. He's too busy gathering his men to stand guard. I don't know why."

"Someone is coming for me," Ciel told him. "That's why. Or did Vanel not tell you that either?"

The boy shook his head. "No. No one did. Just please. I have no use killing you or drugging you. So, please drink."

Ciel simply stared at him, his disbelief unwavering. Why should he trust him? After all, the boy was working for Vanel. Almost as if he could read Ciel's thoughts, the boy let out a heavy sigh and took a sip of water, as if to prove it wasn't poisoned. If it were something as deadly as arsenic, the boy would have keeled over in an instant. So, it seemed the bastard wasn't lying. Poisoning Ciel in the first place made no sense. Vanel still needed the key to the storehouse where the opium was kept, and he needed Ciel alive to use as leverage against Sebastian. Only then would he surrender the key. Vanel planned to kill Ciel afterwards, not before. He couldn't possibly be that foolish.

"Now, come on," the boy said. Without wasting a moment, the boy swiftly pressed the glass to his lips before Ciel could utter another word. "Before Vanel returns."

Ciel inhaled sharply through his nose, taking a sip of water that made his eyes widen. The sensation of thirst being quenched was overwhelming, bringing him immense relief. He couldn't help but gulp it down, almost choking in his eagerness. In that moment, he found himself grateful for the drink.

In a swift move, the boy withdrew the glass from his lips, and seizing the chance, Ciel retaliated by spitting a concoction of water, saliva, and blood right into his face. The mixture trickled down the boy's face. Unfazed, Ciel maintained a piercing gaze, while the boy let out a sigh and promptly wiped his face.