I wanted this to be a larger, more elaborate 'verse that slowly revealed that yes, it was nobles all along, just viewed through the lens of Christian demonization of beings once worshipped as gods and the sale of souls instead of vampire mythos. Problem is, of course, that's a setting, but what should be the plot? A research theologian and the Noblesse: together, they fight crime? Or the noble criminals, rather.

And Frankenstein dealing with Rai being Rai… Ok, that could definitely be turned into a plot-plot, if I ever have the energy and inspiration or someone wants the bunny.

I'm posting this as a oneshot, but maybe, one day… can't promise anything, though.

The demon spoke in tongues, although it seemed to understood what he said perfectly well.

Throwing holy water on it only produced a mild look of distress as it examined the darker area of its clothing. Holy oil had the same result, only it looked at him instead, befuddled and almost hurt.

Its clothing dried instantly as he watched.

Well. That wasn't a good sign. Developing countermeasures against the plague of demonic possession ravaging the countryside was going to be harder than he'd thought.

Keeping his expression hard, he knew that he needed to think before testing other methods, and he didn't want this creature he'd summoned to linger in the human world any longer than necessary. Ah yes. "Begone from whence you came," Frankenstein said, dismissing the demon deliberately dismissively.

It stared at him with red eyes, as though waiting for something.

"Shoo," Frankenstein prompted.

Nodding, it turned its head back and forth as though looking for something, then its eyes fixed on a point beyond Frankenstein.

He turned to look: there was nothing there, the door was shut.

When he heard the demon take a step, he turned around, and Frankenstein's blood ran cold when he saw it walk forward.

Over the lines of the summoning circle.

"Back!" he ordered.

It paused, blinked at him and looked down at the ground. It stepped back carefully, avoiding the lines.

At least that was something, even if it didn't seem to have any difficulty breaching the pentagram… "How were you able to do that?" he demanded. Where was the flaw in his reproduction of the sorcerers' diagrams?

The demon looked down at its feet and frowned. Carefully lifting one, it took a small step, too small to leave the circle.

"No, not how did you walk, how did you escape the circle?"

It looked up at him, puzzled. Back to its feet, then up at him again.

"You shouldn't be able to just walk over the pentagram," he said, pointing at it. It was a model of precision (he wasn't going to risk his soul to chance – testing the summoning method was risky enough), with the proper angles and names… Wait. "Were you never summoned and bound by Solomon?" he asked.

The demon shook its head.

Frankenstein scowled at himself. Well, that was fantastic. He hadn't wanted to use one of the names he knew, because the demon might escape and inform the sorcerers, but he shouldn't have left what kind of devil he summoned to chance.

Cadis Etrama di Raizel: that unearthly beauty, he must have gotten a fallen angel. A fallen angel should be more vulnerable to the Enochian he'd used as backup, but he doubted there was much experimentation in this field. Those who made mistakes were dragged down to Hell.

Was that about to be his fate?

"Return to hell, devil," he ordered it again, "Without stepping over the lines of the pentagram."

It nodded, then vanished.

Well, that was a relief, for the three seconds before Frankenstein heard the door open. "What are you doing?" He added quickly, "No, I don't mean opening the door!"

"Returning to Lukedonia," said the devil with a little hesitation, as though it hadn't been pretending ignorance of Latin but was trying to remember a mostly-forgotten language.. Then it frowned pensively. "But I do not know the way."

Frankenstein blinked. Lukedonia? The kingdom of Lucifer, obviously. That must be the demons' word for Hell. "Have you never been to the human world before?"

"I was sent here once by the Lord."

…That long ago? "And I gather you're not one of the demons that can teach geography."

The fallen angel sighed, and he could almost think it was apologetic.

"I can't have you wandering around the countryside tempting serfs." Not a fallen angel with this degree of unearthly beauty. Not when the normal methods of repelling demons did absolutely nothing. "If I had your true name, perhaps…"

"Cadis Etrama di Raizel."

"Your true name."

That earned him another silent look for a few seconds. "It is a title, but it is also my name," the devil told him.

"Once, perhaps." Shouldn't it have had its heavenly name and title stripped from it?

"I have no other name," it claimed, pretending innocent confusion behind its stoic mask.

"I'm sure," Frankenstein said. There seemed to be no profit in arguing with it. "What am I going to do with you?" he wondered. "Go inside the pentagram and stay there," he ordered it, not expecting it to work but because if it would have worked and he didn't even try it then he would have felt like a fool when he realized.

It nodded and walked into the pentagram again.

What? Frankenstein rubbed at his eyes. Did it have to obey him because he had summoned it? Perhaps it had given him its true name, and it simply couldn't obey orders if it didn't know how. "How did you return home before?"

The devil sighed, perhaps embarrassed. "The Lord sent Gejutel to retrieve me."

That was an idea! "If an angel could be summoned to return the demons to hell… But they were called here by human greed." If humans let evil into their hearts, God could do nothing – such was free will. But the innocents who suffered helplessly for the sins of others…

"The Lord does not permit nobles to interfere in the affairs of humans."

"And yet they do." The dukes and princes of hell. Disobeying the Lord was to be expected of demons, Frankenstein thought, glaring at Raizel. "They make contracts, signed in blood, and give the sorcerers the ability to summon demons to possess the innocent, forcing them to do their bidding." Or run amuck, full of demonic madness, nothing but the will to harm others and do evil.

The fallen angel frowned solemnly. If it were not for the demonic red eyes, he could almost be taken for virtuous, with his beauty and reserve.

"Do you still have your wings?" Frankenstein wondered idly.

Raizel nodded.

"Show them to me," he ordered him.

Raizel looked up at the ceiling, then at the walls to either side. "They will not fit."

That was a problem… Oh, why not. The pentagram was useless anyway. "Follow me outdoors," Frankenstein told him, striding to the door and opening it himself this time. "Perhaps the stars will help you find your way."

When they were outside, Frankenstein folded his arms. Raizel stepped into the center of the clearing, near the gravestones, and Frankenstein opened his mouth to tell him to stop, not to desecrate the graves of the unhallowed dead (possessed as they were, it was too much of a risk to give them proper burial – what if that endangered the souls of the others in the churchyard?), but had to brace himself, raising an arm to shield his face, when blood poured up out of those graves, filling the air around him before gathering around Raizel, a sphere that then snapped out from him, taking the shape of great wings forged of blood and fire.

Perhaps he might have been overwhelmed by awe or fear, but the emotion that consumed him, that drove him forward to seize him by the shoulders – and it was all he could do not to grab that white throat in his hands and wring that neck – was rage. "How dare you," he spat, glaring into red that burned like coals. Stolen red. "Have they not been profaned enough!"

"My power is over blood unjustly shed." Raizel said, but the wings flapped once, flaring around them, and fell apart into glowing drops that slowly fell from the heavens, or was it flowed, into those well-marked graves.

"There's plenty of that here," Frankenstein growled, not even noticing how Raizel's eyes narrowed at those words. "The churchyards wouldn't take them! After everything they suffered, to lie in unhallowed ground like the damned? When none of what happened to them was their fault! They didn't summon demons into themselves, they didn't take their own lives, now did they? No! Their lives and souls – their very wills – were stolen from them! Forced to obey demonic masters, and worse than demonic! Humans not just selling their souls but betraying their own kind for the power you possess! The temptations you dangled in front of them! And what are we to do to fight back?" he demanded.

And wondered who he questioned: the devil or himself?

Summon a devil for research, perhaps samples, nothing more – or so he had told himself. But now, seeing the power Raizel possessed, the power to summon the blood of their victims, perhaps even to use it against them?

Let them choke on it, on the evil they had wrought. Let the innocent dead have their vengeance, and hope it let them rest easier until the end of days.

Eyes flying open in realization, he shoved Raizel back, or was he the one that retreated, that ran away? He forced himself to stop before he entered the house, gripping his forearms, feeling the creases in the cloth and remembering the unnaturally fine fabric of that devil's clothing. "Get thee behind me, temptation," he said, voice hoarse, and only then realized that he had turned his back on the devil.

"No." How could he even contemplate such a thing? What profit a man to gain justice should sell his own soul… How could it be anything but an illusion? Would he let that evil infest his spirit? The very evil that killed them? Would he too end up watching them die and laughing? He shuddered, letting his hands rise to cover his face, bowing his head in shame.

Was that why he could not command Raizel to go? Because the evil within every human, the desire for ease, wanted the devil to stay? Wanted to sell his soul and wreak vengeance upon the sorcerers instead of justice? The thought filled him with rage yet again, this time at himself and his own weakness. "No," he said again, this time with force. "No!" he declared, whirling on the devil. "Stay here and wait to your heart's content! I will not yield! I will show you that humans are not weak!"

Breathing harshly, he waited, hands beginning to curl into fists, but the fallen angel just stood there stoically and watched him as he glared at it. He expected a laugh, contempt, but its red eyes were unreadable.

The silence stretched on. "Well?" he demanded.

The devil nodded regally.

"Good," he snapped. "Go inside."

He would figure out what to do with it in the morning.

"The first order of business is to do something about how you look. I can't have people seeing you like this." Frankenstein looked the black-clad demon up and down, wondering where to start. "Can you do something about the eyes?"

He shook his head.

Well, so much for that. "A blindfold, then." It would hide some of that bewitching face.

Demonic eyes blinked at him, for a moment seeming full of strangely innocent alarm.

"What?"

"I… will not be able to look out the window."

No, it wasn't Frankenstein's imagination. He was certain he heard the demon pause, heard the telltale signs of unhappiness or outright distress in his voice at the thought. He smirked, and saw it when Raizel noticed the expression, the stoic mask slamming down, but Raizel's feelings were betrayed by the slight slump of his shoulders at the thought of being deprived… of a view out the window?

It seemed such a small, harmless thing… Wait. "What will happen if you are allowed to look out the window? Will you curse anyone? Learn their sins or weaknesses to use to tempt them? Draw them into my house to work your wiles on them?"

"I will see things. Precious things."

"Like what?"

"Clouds. Trees." Rai met Frankenstein's skeptical gaze for long seconds before sighing. " I do not know what else is here."

"Not if you haven't been to the human world since the Fall…" Suddenly, Frankenstein felt small and mean. He shouldn't wish unhappiness on anyone, shouldn't give an order for no purpose other than to hurt someone. Yet this was a fallen angel. Yet if he hadn't been to Earth since before he fell…

Then what sin had he committed to fall? Yet suddenly Frankenstein felt tired. He didn't want to know. "Alright. I won't blind you, but I had better not catch you giving anyone the evil eye. So then how am I supposed to disguise your presence? You're too eye-catching."

A blink, and Raizel seemed totally unremarkable. Frankenstein had to draw on the perceptions he'd gained through his alchemy to see through the… not an illusion, but a feeling. Disinterest, perhaps? That was it! Raizel was no longer tempting. "Good," he said. "Refrain from seducing the innocent, and we won't have any problems as long as you don't harm them in any other ways." He nodded, that settled. "What do you require in the way of room and board?"

The devil looked at him, waiting for clarification.

"Do you need anything special to eat or drink? Will a cot suffice for your bed?"

"I do not need to eat. Nor do I sleep."

"Well. How fortunate for you." He should have expected that, from a fallen angel. If they didn't require earthly food, then to eat at all would be gluttony. Then there was sloth. Just how dangerous would an actual devil's idle hands be? "I'll have to draw up a list of chores."

His student came running up to hide behind him, putting him between the child and Raizel. "Professor, is he a, a demon!"

"What?" Frankenstein said distractedly, looking up from the most recent journal. "Oh, you mean Raizel? Yes. He has no idea how to tempt people, but I couldn't let him wander off and get some experience. As long as he's staying here, I'm making him do chores."

Raizel sighed, either at the indignity or because he would love to dispute Frankenstein's version of events, but was too polite. The fallen angel continued elegantly folding the laundry.

"You mean you've managed to imprison a demon and make him do your bidding without selling your soul, Professor?"

"Oh, imprisoning one of the demons isn't that difficult – I'll teach you how to make the chains when you're a little older. Powering them is rather draining. I summoned Raizel when I was studying how the sorcerers gained their power, and he had no idea how to get himself back to hell. Exorcisms don't seem to work on him, so he's stuck here for now." Frankenstein frowned pensively at Raizel. "I suppose I could use him to help you practice resisting a demon's temptation, so we don't need to wait until I capture another test subject." Nodding, he ordered Raizel to, "Drop that glamorie of yours."

Frankenstein had spent decades fighting demons by now. He was used to the effect they had on his mind and well-practiced at combating it, but Raizel was still something special. He was quite certain that Raizel was more powerful than the demons he had fought.

Tesamu was staring at Raizel open-mouthed before he pulled himself together enough to swallow. He clung tighter to Frankenstein, and likely would have hid behind him if he hadn't already.

That was far too mild a reaction to Raizel, whose beauty had stopped the entirety of the capital's busiest street in their tracks when Frankenstein wanted a baseline reaction to his aura of temptation. "You've seen demons before," Frankenstein knew, and wished he was more surprised. He'd already begun to suspect the true nature of those who offered themselves as his allies, for the good of humanity.

"Professor, what should I do if he attacks me or tries to tempt me?" Tesamu asked.

"Come to me, or threaten to take away his mulled cider. He doesn't need to eat, but he has quite the sweet tooth and taste for hot drinks." Including soups. Frankenstein had taught him to cook, but left to his own devices he would make nothing else. "I managed to summon a demon with absolutely no job experience. He's fairly harmless unless he thinks another demon is attempting to usurp his prerogatives."

"What do you mean, Professor?"

"When one of the test subjects got loose he killed them rather quickly." They'd torn open a door and smashed Frankenstein's desk, trying to escape while he was out of the house dealing with another case of possession. Raizel had noticed how much it angered Frankenstein when someone broke his things.

"But… why do you let him hide what he is?"

"If he doesn't use his glamorie to make people ignore him, they'll start bringing him small gifts and tribute, like he's a pagan deity. I won't have lovestruck teenagers hiding in my bushes hoping to catch a glimpse of him, it's too dangerous." What if his home was attacked again?

"Professor, he's tempting me!"

"Is he actually taking action to tempt you, or just being tempting?"

His student blushed.

"You'll need the practice resisting temptation if you hope to fight demons, Tesamu." Like right now, Frankenstein was very glad he had practice resisting the temptation to ruffle hair.

Looking for Tesamu to tell him to wash up, Raizel was already setting the table for dinner, Frankenstein found him with a stepladder, trying to balance a bucket over Raizel's door. "Honestly." Shaking his head, he took the bucket from his apprentice's hands. "Holy water doesn't work on him no matter the quantity. And it doesn't injure or have significant effects on other demons, other than a temporary distraction." What he didn't say was that when he'd tested holy water and holy oil on captured demons while they were unconscious, there was no reaction whatsoever. It didn't take much questioning for one of them to laugh in his face and say that they had been faking, to mock the superstitious humans. "What if the water got into something and made it mildew?"

Putting the bucket on an end table, he bent down closer to the child's eye level. "What is this all about?"

He flushed, embarrassed but also a bit angry. "He's a demon!"

Frankenstein frowned. "Tesamu, I won't have you around the prisoners if you plan to torment them just for the sake of tormenting them. It would imperil your soul. Raizel might be incompetent at temptation, but mercy is a virtue and wrath is a sin – the prisoners would have the skill to make use of that chink in your armor." The thought of a demon getting loose with a child, a hostage, right there made his blood run cold.

"Aren't I supposed to learn how to fight demons?"

'Not Raizel,' was Frankenstein's first thought, as though it should have been obvious that Raizel was in his own category, might be a demon but wasn't one of the demons they fought.

That was dangerous, he thought, sighing. To get attached to his tempter. "I feel somewhat responsible for him, because I'm the reason he's stranded in the human world and can't go home. I might make him earn his keep, but he's more of a guest than a servant or a prisoner. And," he added, quietly. "He's much too strong. I may be able to reliably subdue minor demons, but Raizel is a fallen angel of no small power. Some of the demons Solomon subdued were once pagan gods – Raizel often seems like a breed apart from the demons I've learned how to fight. Don't provoke him, Tesamu. Don't mistake passivity or obedience for weakness – angels were created to serve." So Raizel's compliant nature didn't mean what it would mean in a human. "He has dominion over blood unjustly shed – think of how much of that there is in this sinful world. Attacking someone who has done you no harm is an unjust act – I suspect that if you were able to find a way to injure Raizel, you would only make him more powerful. Demons are not to be trifled with," he said, meeting Tesamu's eyes sternly. "It's because I attempted a random demon-summoning ritual just to obtain data that a devil as powerful as Raizel ended up in the human world. I can't put innocent people in danger because of my lapse in judgment. If you keep provoking Raizel, I would have to send you away for your own safety."

There was a look of horror in the child's eyes. "I'll be good, don't send me away! I'm learning so much, Professor, and…"

Frankenstein held up a hand. "It's alright, Tesamu. Fortunately, Raizel is a passive creature, so I doubt you've managed to offend him enough for him to take action. Especially when he knows I will not forgive him for attacking a human. I may not be able to kill him, but part of the reason I've made him comfortable here is so that he'll be reluctant to destroy or disrupt the household." And be left wandering aimlessly through the human world, with no idea how to procure tea and honey.

'It's all under control,' he wanted to say, to reassure the child, but even if the situation was stable enough for him to feel safe enough, was it really alright to risk a child in a house with a demon?

Perhaps he should send Tesamu away. A household with both a demon and a spy… was he really so arrogant as to think he had everything under control, when he lived here with two effective enemy agents that might act at any time?