Warnings: Eventual Homosexual Pairing(D/N/D), Violende, Blood/Gore, Strong Language

Disclaimer: I do not own DMC, and I make no money from this story.

"Dante is a lazy ass," Lady declared before licking up a small spoonful of vanilla ice-cream. The heat on that particular summer's day was sweltering even to the point of making a scantily clad huntress hot enough for a classic hot fudge sundae. She avoided sweet treats such as this because she didn't want them going to her thighs or her ass or any of her other self-deemed "problem areas." In fact, she had nearly resisted the very sundae she was eating at that moment until Trish managed to convince her to give in and live a little. If course, that was easy for Trish. She was a demon. Lady wasn't sure how that worked, but she was fairly sure demons couldn't gain weight. Otherwise, Dante would have weighed over 300 pounds what with all the booze, super-sized strawberry sundaes, and large pizzas he downed all by himself.

"Sometimes I think he just needs his ass kicked in gear, and if it takes a shot in the head to do that, well, I do what has to be done."

Trish pursed her lips, tapping her fingernails on the glass tabletop. Luckily, the women had picked a restaurant that had outdoor tables but with umbrellas. The shade kept them sheltered from the heat while not pampering them with cool air like the air conditioned interior of a building would. The heat was always ten times worse after leaving the comfort of indoors.

"Don't you think you might be just a little hard on him sometimes?" The blond would admit that Dante could be lazy when he wanted, which was the majority of the time, but she didn't exactly approve of Lady physically harming him with bullets or what-not. She wasn't exactly sure why she didn't approve of it, however. Perhaps it was a smidgen of Dante's mother coming out in her. She was certain that was why she had taken so easily to the halfbreed when they barely knew each other.

"He can take it! He won't die like a normal person. It barely hurts him at all."

"Maybe so, but that's kind of using his heritage against him. Could you call that 'racism'?" Trish stared off thoughtfully, absently tracing the metal rim of the table. "I don't know. I just feel like there's something wrong with it."

Lady sighed, swallowing another spoonful of sticky fudge and peanut chunks. "Well, maybe you're right. But I don't know what else I'm supposed to do."

Trish snorted and giggled quietly. "Are you his wife or his mother? Seriously, Lady, Dante's a grown man. I don't think it's your job to see that he does anything."

"No, but if he doesn't work, I don't get my money."

"You told me Dante paid his debt off a month ago," Trish laughed cruelly, prompting an eyeroll from Lady.

"Oh, shut up, Trish! Maybe I don't need a reason. Me and Dante go back farther than you two anyway."

"I just think you're hiding something," said Trish slyly, shifting her eyes back to Lady. She immediately noticed, however, that the woman's bi-colored eyes were focused intensely on something in the near distance. The devil's silver eyes rolled in the same direction, and she knew the moment she saw the man that he was what Lady was staring at. As diverse as the city's populace was, he was a broken puzzle piece that would fail to ever fit. They weren't the only ones gawking at him either. Many passersby slowed down or even halted to completely to stare with arched brows and unanswered questions at him. He looked like a nerd on his way to a convention, but the way he carried himself said otherwise. The strangest thing, however, was that he was staring straight back at them and heading in their direction.

"Hello, Ladies," said the man, bowing graciously to the huntresses as if they were royalty. "How are you this afternoon."

Both Lady and Trish answered with a simultaneous "fine," exchanging brief glances that they easily interpreted to mean, "He's totally going to hit on us." They both became more confused when he did something completely unexpected.

"I'm sorry to have eavesdropped on your conversation, but I heard you mention the name 'Dante,' and it caught my attention. Do you recognize this man?"

The man held up a photograph between two black gloved fingers. The man in the picture instantly rung a bell in the ladies' minds. He was most definitely their Dante with his unmistakable white hair and crimson trench coat, though the photo was a tad dated. Lady briefly wondered where the man had obtained the photo because Dante didn't look at all oblivious in the picture, and he would never miss someone spying on him.

"No," Trish replied, "that's not the Dante we were talking about."

The man pursed his lips, pulling the photo back behind him and stroking his beard thoughtfully. Everything about him was sharp from his crisp, pristinely white uniform to his hair and goatee that looked pointed enough to stab someone. He was a brunette, and his hair came to about the middle of his neck, the ends cut in a clean line from one side of his head to the other. Most striking about his hairstyle, however, was a deep widow's peak. It made him look naturally sinister though he was utterly polite and orderly. Despite his disposition, however, Trish felt it inherent that he was up to no good.

Clicking his tongue, the man mumbled, "I must have come to the wrong city then." He nodded to them both and smiled before thanking the and heading off. Trish watched him like a hawk while Lady turned to her with a questioning look.

"Why did you lie to him? What if he was looking for a demon hunter? Dante needs to—"

"No," Trish interrupted, "I don't think he needed someone to cure a demon problem considering that he was one himself."

"What?" Lady asked, her voice only mildly shocked. She had seen a lot of demons disguise themselves as humans and had become desensitized to such realizations. Still, that man had seemed too human. She had developed a fairly accurate ability to sense demons over the years, and he hadn't triggered her senses to tingling at all.

"Not a true demon or even half of one. Almost human, but he smelled too strange to be just an ordinary man."

"So what was he then?" Lady demanded; she had never been a fan of beating around the bush. She preferred to get straight to the point.

"I think he completed a transformation ritual."

That was all Lady needed to hear. She knew there were good demons and bad demons just as there were good and evil people, but no one that would go through the rigorous process of turning themselves into a demon could possibly be up to any good. And he was searching for Dante. Lady didn't care if Dante didn't need her protection; she wouldn't let another monster try to wipe him out if she could stop it. She hated when demons came after Dante because of what his father did however long ago. She could sympathize with him because she too had relatives that had done horrible things out of her control that she had to pay for from time to time.

"So what should we do? Hunt him down?"

"No, I think we should follow him. Where there's one of those things, there are usually a lot more involved."

It wasn't long before the girls were back on the curious man's trail. He seemed absolutely oblivious to their presence, which was ideal. Even if the plaza was densely crowded, they tended to stick out like sore thumbs. He was leaving the plaza, however, and they were forced to leave their cover to follow. They hid in alleyways every few yards if they felt he might turn around. Luckily, he never turned once. Perhaps he was so accustomed to marching in a line of men with backs so stiff they looked to have sticks shoved up one end and out the other that turning felt too foreign. Lady pondered what Trish had said about there being more transformed men like himself. What she was saying seemed to be true taking in the man's state of dress. He was wearing a uniform, which meant he was simply one gear out of some machine, whether moderate or massive. Either way, Lady now understood why they needed to tail the man and learn where he was off to. They could give the information to Dante, and he could go check it out on his own. He was more able-bodied than both of them anyway, Lady hated to admit. He also needed to get off his ass and do something productive for once.

Eventually, the man lead them to Capulet's small ferry terminal that Lady had never understood why it was there. She had always wondered where the ferries that left those docks went to. She supposed then that she was about to learn. The huntresses hid behind a sheltered bench while the man boarded the ferry. Trish peeked from beneath the shelter for barely more than a second, but she managed to spot another man wearing a similar uniform.

"Anything interesting?" asked Lady in a low voice.

Trish nodded. "There's another one on the ferry. He's wearing the same uniform."

Lady saved any other questions she may have had for later as the men started conversing. They both eavesdropped attentively on their conversation.

"Did you f-f-find anything?"

"I'm afraid not. I asked around, but no one seems to know this man. I even spoke with two women who said his name, but they denied that he was the particular 'Dante' they were speaking of."

"What?" squawked the most peculiar of the two. "You weren't s-s-s-s-supposed to just ask around! You were supposed to search for him!"

"I did," growled the other man. "I only found one place that the single lead I had discovered led me to. And when I went inside, no one was there."

"So you need to g-g-go b-back!"

"You don't tell me what I need to do," hissed the man. "I have other business to attend to. I will resume my search, time permitting, someday this week. You said yourself that the operation wasn't even entirely ready to be utilized. It should be another week, at the least. Besides, I doubt this man is planning on moving any time soon. From what we've gathered, this city has been his home for nearly a decade. I will have more than enough opportunities to speak with him another day."

The man with the stutter sighed irately, giving in to defeat. "Very well, but I think you are t-taking the time you have far t-t-to l-lightly. His Holiness has been waiting for this for f-far too long. I fear he is g-g-g-growing impatient.

"His Holiness is a reasonable man. Even if you are correct, he will understand why our mission can't be finished any earlier."

The men continued speaking, mostly quarreling, as the ferry pulled out, their voices gradually fading. The one with the speech impediment seemed sinister. Though they said they wanted to "speak with" Dante, their intentions sounded far less pure and simple. The things they had said were entirely odd, however. They spoke of an operation, but what sort of operation exactly? And they called a man only by the title of "His Holiness." What sort of authoritative figure did that make him? Something like a pope? Both huntresses were filled with unanswered questions, the most important being where exactly those men were headed.

"Excuse me, sir," Lady said to the man behind the nearby ticket counter as she approached. "That ferry that just left," she pointed to said ferry in the distance, "where was it going?"

"Eh, Fortuna, I believe," replied the portly man, his voice rough and nasally.

"Fortuna?" Lady and Trish exchanged looks of question. Neither had heard before of any place dubbed "Fortuna."

"Nh, yeah, it's an island about an hour's ride from here. You wanna buy a ticket? Next ferry leaves in about fi'teen minutes."

"I thought tickets were normally free," Lady countered, arching a brow.

"Well, not many ferries come in or outta that place, so the city cut the funding. We've gotta try n' make up for it by charging. It's ten bucks per ticket."

"Hm, no, we won't be buying a ticket today, but thank you."

The ladies left the counter, watching the ferry momentarily that had become a white speck against the boundless ocean. In less than an hour, those men would be back on their little island, Fortuna, plotting who knew what sorts of evil. Though the man had said he would return soon to seek Dante again, Lady didn't see it fit that they wait however long it would take. Who knew what was happening to the people living on that island?

"So I guess we need to go tell Dante now?"

"Yes," Lady replied, "but don't mention that the guy said he was coming back again. Dante will want to wait for him to come back if he knows. I think he needs to go ahead and skulk the place out, find out whatever they're up to. It can't be anything good."

Trish nodded. "Alright, I can go with him. You have an upcoming job out of town, if I remember correctly."

"Yeah, I won't be able to help out. I have to leave tomorrow. But I will make sure Dante goes before I leave."

Dante had just returned from a beer run, one of the sweating bottles in his hand. He nursed the cool liquid, seldom caring when a few amber drops rolled down his chin, the pallid column of his neck, and down to his broad chest. If anything, it made the booze more refreshing. His air conditioning system worked, but it was shitty on the best days. His building had become an oven, and he was just short of roasting. He had left his black undershirt on, the material skintight and breathable, but even it was becoming an annoyance in such heat.

With an exasperated growl, the halfbreed jerked the clingy shirt over his head, tossing it haphazardly onto his desk. Beads of sweat rolled down his skin, pooling in the ridges of his stomach. Normally, he hated being sweaty and dank, but the air felt ten times cooler with the moisture on his skin. Luckily, his sweat was mostly odorless. Dante had to keep his sexy image up at all times, and most ladies didn't like a smelly man.

To entertain himself, Dante plucked a battered cue from his billiards table and aimed for the cue ball. He hit the white ball head on, sending the other balls rolling sporadically across the green felt. Several fell into pockets with a thud, evoking a smirk from the hunter. He sucked at gambling with cards, but he could dominate a game of pool. Perhaps it was his preternatural senses that allowed him to aim deftly and impeccably. After all, he was a talented marksman. He could shoot the dick off a fly, so it only followed logically that he exceled at a game that was based almost entirely on one's ability to aim and predict to where a ball's point of impact might divert its trajectory. Of course, that was the excuse Lady loved to use when he royally kicked her ass at a game.

"You only win because you're a demon. If you weren't, I would have won."

Dante snorted as he lined up a shot. The tip of his stick hit the solid yellow ball, sending it into the edge of the table before it rebounded into the purple, sending them both into the same pocket. Perhaps it was sad that he was playing pool all by his lonesome, but at least, he could practice for his and Lady's next rematch.

As if I need it.

"Oh, Dante," purred a voice behind him, "I can see you're working hard on this fine day."

" 'Working hard' or hardly working, Trish?"

"I'd say the latter, girls," Dante tossed in as if in some form of greeting.

"Well, at least, he admits it," Trish said, glancing knowingly in Lady's direction. The brunette gave her a look that said, "Bitch, please."

"I have some business to talk with you, Dante," Lady announced, leaning in the doorway. The doors had been wide open anyway before the girls stepped in. Dante preferred to keep them propped open in order to combat the heat.

"Hm," Dante hummed, scratching his chin in mock thought. "I'm afraid I left all my fucks somewhere else. I guess you'll just have to come back some other day... See ya', girls!"

"Ugh," Lady sighed, rolling her eyes, "if you think I'm here to offer you a job—"

"That's what I naturally assume when you say you want to 'talk business'."

"But I'm only here to let you know that someone is looking for you."

"Haven't I told you like ten times by now to have clients call me? You're not my agent."

"I would have told him to call you, but I don't think he was interested in your services."

"Then I don't care."

Dante resumed pocketing balls, the ivory balls clacking rather calamitously over the music playing from his beat up jukebox. Lady stomped determinedly over to him, stepping between him and the pool table when she saw an opening. She felt warm breath blow over her face when he sighed quietly through his nostrils. Knowing how to pull his strings, she crossed her arms over her chest, pushing her nearly bare breasts together. As predicted, his eyes dropped very obviously to her chest. He had never tried to hide it because he didn't need to. Normally, women were all over him, loving his eyes on them. Lady wasn't the kind of woman that enjoyed being ogled, but she would if it was the only way to make the devil pay attention.

"Okay, you've got my attention, but you should know I've seen enough tits in my time not to be all that riled by half-nudeness." And, of course, he wasn't unaware of her intentions. He loved being a pretentious dick to Lady, and he took every opportunity he could. That included pointing out that he could read her like an open book.

"I think someone is planning something... nefarious. Some man asked about you. We told him we didn't know who you were, but he had somehow obtained a picture of you from when you were younger."

Dante arched a brow at her, crossing his own arms. It was an obvious sign that his attention had been piqued beyond gawking at her chest. "How young exactly?"

"Before you grew this," Lady replied, scratching his stubbly chin. "Not from too long ago, but it's certainly been a year, at the least."

"We tailed him," Trish interrupted. "We followed him to the ferry terminal. He boarded a ferry to somewhere called 'Fortuna.' Ever heard of it?"

"Can't say I have," Dante replied, turning so that he could see both of the women.

"Well, apparently, it's pretty different from Capulet. He was wearing this strange, white uniform. It wasn't something everyday people wear."

"We talked to a man back at the ferry terminal who told us Fortuna is an island. He said that not many people go in or out," Lady added. "Sounds a bit mysterious, don't you think?"

Dante nodded. "So any idea why this guy was lookin' for me?"

"Yes but only barely," Trish replied. "We listened in on his conversation with another guy—he had an awful stutter. But anyway, they mentioned something about an 'operation' and that they wanted to speak with you. They also said that some man they called 'His Holiness' was becoming impatient waiting. It sounds pretty harmless, but they didn't exactly seem like they were just looking for a tea-party. Or even your services."

"Their intentions are definitely sinister," Lady replied. "We're just not exactly sure what they want with you."

"So I'm guessing you think I should go and check it out?"

"Well, you know how people with grudges against your father have a tendency to not care who they hurt in the process of getting to you, right?"

"Oh, and these men had completed the transformation," Trish added. "So you know, none of that pesky 'killing humans' business will stand in your way."

Trish's callous words prompted a glare from Lady. She had that look in her eyes that said an argument was about to be unleashed. Dante saw the threat of yet another of their endless debates and interrupted before they were at each other's throats.

"Well, ladies, it's your lucky day." The hunter held out his arms, palms up. "I seem to have located my fucks after all."

Trish chuckled deeply, her voice always sensuous. "Good, we can leave tonight."