2
A Deal with the Devil
Noah seemed completely intrigued by the story of the two demons, Dante and Vergil. Much more than I assumed he would be.
"So, you just woke up in their house after he—saved you?" he questioned for about the fifth time. I was in the kitchen of our tiny apartment. It was placed in the bad part of New York. The really bad part. So bad that if you doidle too long out on the front porch at night you would probably get mugged.
Yet for an apartment that wasn't too shabby, had two bedrooms, mediocre bathroom, and running water, it wasn't so bad for five hundred a month.
I was in the middle of cooking for pasta for the pair of us while Noah sat at the kitchen table doing his homework. Or he was supposed to be doing his homework.
"Yes, for the fiftieth time," I said, half laughing, pouring the steaming pasta into the strainer that sat in the sink.
"Lucky he was there," he said, placing the end of his pencil between his front teeth out of habit.
"I think he was at the strip club," I said thoughtfully, pouring the tomato sauce over the noodles and then adding Parmesan cheese.
Noah laughed.
He had been through the most noticeable changes in the past nine years, even more than myself who always remained short. He was now taller than myself at almost six feet, fair skin, and green and blue eyes brighter than ever.
He was even a heart throb, from what I could tell. In the present he was dating a girl called Summer Rosenberg, a girl I only met on a few occasions and seemed to thoroughly like Noah.
You wouldn't think it, but I had always been strict with Noah and school, even when I was ten. Ever since our parents died. But those days were the worst, without a doubt.
We were homeless for a long time, and the only reason we didn't die was because we were both half demons, therefore having half the body and innards of one. We didn't always have to eat human food and we didn't have to ear every day.
The longest we could go without eat was a week and a half, and sometimes we ended up resorting to the rats in the sewers, our half demon system immune to the diseases they held for us.
Also no one could easily take out two half-breeds, even if we were young. It's basically like assaulting two young hungry tigers. We never resorted to feeding off humans, even though strictly speaking, it wouldn't be cannibalism.
And over the years, when we both got mediocre paid jobs, we eventually got ourselves an apartment and were able to live a bit more humanely. But that still didn't stop me from going out almost every night and hunting off all the demons.
"So, how's school going?" I inquired after placing his plate in front of him and then seating myself down. I myself had not finished middle school or high school; I had no time. I was too busy taking care of Noah and working up the money to get a place.
"School is—fine," he said, slurping up some noodles. "We have a new history teacher, not that that's the greatest news flash in the world. Your day has been a lot more exciting."
I shrugged. "If you call being poisoned and nearly having your head chomped off by a demon who has fly eyes exciting, then it's your piece of cake."
"Wish you would let me come with you on your hunts," he muttered into his pasta, stirring his fork absentmindedly.
I shot a quick look at him, almost dropping my own fork.
"Noah; no. We've talked about this a hundred times! It's too dangerous! I almost died tonight and I'm trained!"
"Then teach me!" he said angrily, setting his fork in his pasta and glaring at me. "Honestly, if I'm going to be attacked by the same people who killed mom and dad, I need to be able to defend myself!"
We both new the potential threat of the demon horde that killed our parents hovered over us like a persistent gray rain cloud; we had barely escaped them ourselves and knew it was possible they were still searching for us. Yet so far in the nine years since our parent's death no such thing has happened.
"And how do I know you're not going to go off for your own demon hunting escapades?" I demanded. "You're too young for that."
"You were seven when mom taught you!" he retorted harshly.
"That was because I was the eldest and mom wanted me to be able to protect you if anything ever happened to her and dad. Worked out, didn't it?"
He shifted his glare back onto his pasta before shoving him and his chair away from the table and picking up his backpack in a fierce manner.
"You still think I'm six," he said acidly. "I'm a lot older now; I should be learning how to defend myself now. I'll be in my room."
And then he stormed off. I took a deep breath, running my fingers through my hair and shaking my head.
How did parents do it? I had to act as both a mom and a dad, teacher, counselor, and role model, and I had all my demon hunting to do. I wasn't even twenty yet.
But complaining about it wasn't going to make things better. A thing I learned the hard way.
What would mom do? She would try and compromise.
Great.
I waited a bit though, deciding to attend to the stack of bills on the kitchen table. It was well past ten when I was finished. I sighed and got to my feet, stretched, then heated Noah's bowl of pasta in the microwave.
When finished, I walked up to Noah's door and knocked once before opening it. Noah sat in the corner on his single bed, arms behind his head and staring up at the ceiling. He didn't look at me as I entered.
"You, um, didn't finish dinner," I said awkwardly, setting it on his desk. "Thought you might be hungry."
He glanced at me. "Thanks."
Tenderly, I sat myself on the foot of his bed. "I know—that things are hard right now. Really hard. But remember that they were harder. We could still be living on the streets off street rats. And, I think that it's fair if I teach you the basics of fighting," I added.
He looked at me fully. "Really?"
"As long as you don't go out looking for a fight," I finished defiantly. "You're right; you're going to need to fight sometime in life, and sooner could be better if you don't abuse your own power."
Slowly, he sat upright, crossing his legs and resting his arms on his knees.
"Deal."
I looked at him in surprise. "That was easy."
"If anything, you have it worse than me. But it's not a competition on whose life is shittier. But I understand where you're coming from. I'll only use it for self defense."
"Promise?" I asked suspiciously.
He laughed under his breath. He held out his pinky.
"Pinky promise."
It was a thing we did ever since we were kids. I rolled my eyes and chuckled, twisting my pink finger in his.
"Deal," I repeated, nodding.
.
Dante POV
"You and your fucking booty calls," Vergil said in an irritated tone, rubbing his wet starlight hair with a white towel.
"Dammit, Vergil. She was almost demolished by a Pathaway demon; I told you," Dante retorted shrewdly. He was lounging on the dusty armchair, arms crossed and glaring out of the window.
"Whatever. She didn't seem your type, anyway. You usually like the tall blondes who have more boobs than brains."
"I'm glad that my own brother has such a high opinion on me."
"Well, she said 'another time'. Maybe you'll get lucky, though I doubt it."
Dante suddenly looked at his twin. "Whaddya' mean?" he demanded quickly.
Vergil looked at him sideways, permitting Dante to see his smirk.
"Maybe you finally found a girl that's smart."
"How is she smart?"
"Because she didn't screw you," said Vergil calmly. Dante scowled.
"Oh, real smooth," Dante scathed. "You are so amusing."
"I get it from dad." Vergil sighed, ruffling his white shaggy head. "If you really think you can get in her pants, prove it."
"I've got nothing to prove to you," scoffed Dante, shifting his weight in his chair.
"Sure. But you said she was pretty good out there dueling that demon?"
Dante sighed, kneading his eyes with his fingers. "Not bad, for a half-demon. She's gone all 'Buffy the Vampire Slayer' with them though. She even has the stupid puns."
"Every cocky fighter has to have their stupid puns; it's what makes them cocky. Anyways, if she's as good as you say she is, maybe she can help you get all of these demons off your ass. Did you tell her that Pathaway demon was really after you?"
Dante shook his head. "Nope. She probably would have hurt me, and lately I'm against being hurt."
"So why not ask for her help?"
Dante shot him a look. "What? Ask that little squirt to be my personal bodyguard?"
"No, Dante. Help. You're too thick skulled to realize that you actually need it."
Dante didn't answer. He let out a low breath and ran his fingers through his hair. He got up from the armchair. "I'm going to bed. Again."
"Sweet dreams, princess."
Before descending back into his bedroom, Dante stopped in the laundry room. On the ground was a small blue device. Dante bent down and picked it up. It was a blue Razor flip phone. He opened it. It was working. It must have not gone in the wash after all.
Making a mental note to somehow get it to Ravyn, Dante pocketed it. He went to his bedroom, stripped down naked, then hurled himself in his bed, almost falling asleep instantly.
.
Ravyn POV
Sunshine crept through the window, and it was most unwelcome. I turned in my bed so fiercely that I fell off it. Tiredly, I raised my messy bed head over the top of the bed, yawned, then tried to detangle myself from my blankets that were keeping me captive as a human burrito.
When free, I crept outside into the kitchen where Noah was already sitting at the kitchen table with a bowl of Rice Crispies and finishing last minute homework.
"Hey, sport," I said, ruffling his hair before sitting myself down at the table and pouring myself a bowl of cereal. "So, I was thinking . . . you still like that band, Red, right?"
He looked up from his cereal.
"Yeah?" he said uncertainly.
"Well—I kinda sorta bought two tickets last night for their concert that's showing here on the eighth."
He dropped his spoon. "You didn't."
I grinned. "I did. Two backstage tickets, baby!"
His face alit, but then was suddenly darkened.
"What?" I said, surprised.
"Rave, we can't afford this. They are way too much."
I rolled my eyes. "Yeah, you say that after I got them. Anyways, I didn't have to pay for them."
His eyes widened. "How?"
"Do you remember that guy I dated last year? Blaine?"
His face cringed. "The guy that smelled like meatloaf?"
I frowned. "He did not."
"You are so in denial."
I opened my mouth, then closed it and shrugged. "Well, he's best friends with the lead singer and he was able to spare us two tickets. Completely free of charge!"
He stared at me. "This is amazing."
"Right?" I laughed. His phone suddenly went off. I reached for my pocket automatically but then remembered that it went through the wash.
"Whoop, that's the bus," he said, getting to his feet and washing his bowl quickly in the sink. "See you later! And thanks a lot!"
He gave me an extra hug before grabbing his backpack running out of the building, his excited energy practically fuming off him. My smile faltered slightly in his absence.
The tickets were going to be a real strain on my budget. It was really cutting it close.
Why didn't I tell him the truth? Because Noah was too good to ever accept something as big as this. And I couldn't stand it that he couldn't grow up like all the other normal teenage boys; he needed some memories to cherish.
Well, that just meant I had to do a few extra hours at the bar. Oh, yeah. I'm a barmaid at a sketchy little bar called Snake's Eye. The reason why it was so sketchy was because the outfits were so risqué. The manager, Mr. Clarke, had a theory that the sluttier the girls dressed, the more customers he would gain, mainly men.
The sad part was that it was true.
But it was well paid and right now I couldn't turn down something like that; I couldn't afford not to. I got up, stretched, then went to clean my bowl.
Time to start the day.
I went to my room, changed into gray sweats and work out white bra then put my hair in a high ponytail. I walked onto the front porch, squinting into the sun's light before starting a healthy jog on the sidewalk.
If I were to perform my all, it would look too suspicious. Demons in general had an impenetrable system with flawless stamina, muscle, and strength. This was one of the many things that I acquired from my demon mother.
I humored at the thought of ever joining a marathon, but thought better of it. They would test my blood for steroids, but they wouldn't find drugs. Who knows what kind of weird shit was in half-demon blood?
In my huntings, like Dante said, I played out to be the powerless girl, such as what happened last night. In realty I could be a potential golden medal Olympic champion.
At the gym, I signed in and started out in the weight room and immediately began to slam my fists against the dangling punching bag, beating it so fiercely that it kept rebounding on the chain that held it from the ceiling.
Working out did a lot of things for me, such as relieving pounds of stress, and readying me for my next battle.
The bandage Dante placed around my arm had already come off, revealing a completely healed surface. Being half-demon really has its virtues sometimes.
I took a break after a few hours, my skin covered in a layer of sweat and my chest heaving slightly. I descended into the showers, wiping off all the stinky workout sweat.
I always liked the feeling of my wet hair cascading down my back whenever taking a shower after smothering it in shampoo and conditioner. I almost never took showers at my own house; it was a helluva lot cheaper to just take them here.
As I exited the shower, the locker room was quite deserted, the overhead light flickering slightly. I frowned as I pulled a towel over my body, looking at the light. Was it flickering before? And where had everyone gone?
Something wasn't right.
I narrowed my eyes, craning my ears, expanding my sense, but I all received was a strong foreboding feeling.
Then, one by one, each of the showers turned on. From the left tot the right, the cheap showers began bursting their water at full power. I was starting to feel like I was in a horror movie.
But instead of draining, the water started to pour out of the showers, but it wasn't clear. It was a vivid, deep, tar black, oozing from under the shower curtains and expanding out onto the bathroom tile floor, moving on its own.
Then the sludge began to rise, materializing itself into a form that had a body, head, and two long arms, the black ooze dripping from it. Another demon. It had no visible eyes or any face for that matter, but I knew that wasn't going to stop it from seeing me.
But man, it stunk. It smelt like a skunk spray mixed in with rotten eggs and meat. The smell burnt my nostrils to a point of unendurable stinging.
I looked around for any possible weapon, but I didn't bring my katana with me; it would have looked odd jogging down the street with it.
So, it was just me and my bare fists. And pretty much bare everything; I didn't have time to put clothes on.
"Daaantee . . ." it breathed in an eerie, raspy voice that didn't seem to come exactly from its body, but from all around, reverberating off the walls that were now cracked as though an earthquake had hit us.
How the hell had I been dragged into Limbo?! And more importantly, why was this piece of shit saying Dante's name?
"Do I look like a Dante to you?" I said. "Does Dante have boobs? I don't think so."
The thing emitted a strangled, gurgling growl.
"I don't appreciate demons dragging me into Limbo, sludge. Especially when I'm naked."
The thing shot one of its arms like a bizarre tar hose. I just barely dodged, still clutching my towel to my body. No weapon. Right.
I darted to the sink, grasped my hands over the edge of the white glass and then ripped it out of the counter. Water sprayed everywhere from the now open pipe, hitting the demon right in the stomach. This proved to have no impact.
But now I had a sink. Suck it.
I darted forward, colliding the sink in with the demon's head. This had no affect either. It merely dissolved it into its body.
No sink. Never mind.
But how do you fight a big clump of tar? Fight tar with tar? Or . . . fight fire with tar?
Okay. Now, follow me you big disgusting, smelly, blob of crap. My eye were on the door that held the water heater. I swiftly made my way to my locker and opened it as fast as I could, nearly dodging another blast of tar.
I pulled out a lighter from my backpack then hurled myself through the air and just over the demon, landing on the tiled floor and beside the water heater. I threw open the door just in time. It acted as a shield against another blast. I had to act quickly.
I ripped off one of the water heater's pipes, the one that had fuel running into it. I took it into my hands, shoved the door aside and pointed the flowing tube that acted as a hose towards the demon.
It happened at the same time. My blast of fuel hit the demon just as his eruption of black ooze hit me square in the chest, making me hurl backward onto the wall behind me, in collision causing it to crack.
Catching my breath, I raised the lighter, flipped it open, flicked it on, then tossed it in the air where it landed on the demon. The affect was immediate.
The blob demon exploded, causing its muck to cover the bathroom completely. There was a sound like a dropping anvil, and then I was out of Limbo. But the demon mess still remained.
There was so much gook that I actually blended into the wall. Edgily, I ripped myself from the wall and tried to stand, but the slime was too heavy.
"God dammit!" I exclaimed out loud. "Why is it always me that gets covered in demon innards?!"
The bathroom. Was. Destroyed.
The broken sink was now stuck on the ceiling, the broken pipes spraying water everywhere, and every inch was covered in the black tar.
Well, shit.
.
I broke my own rule and ended up taking a shower back at home. I had run from the scene of the bathroom as soon as I could. I avoided most of pedestrian eyes by jumping from rooftop to rooftop up above.
I didn't want to be around when they found that mess. What would they even think of it? That someone went a little wild with the black paint?
Noah had only just got home when I got back. I swear, his eyes had grown as big as dinner plates when he saw me head to foot covered in black sludge. Though, amusingly so, he didn't seem to think it too normally out of my common schedule.
I had to stay in the shower for a full hour to get all of the muck out of my hair and body. By the time I was finished the water was stone cold.
Shivering, I pulled on my maroon silk bathrobe and put my hair up in a messy bun. Outside in my room, I heard voices coming from the front door. I peered outside my bedroom door.
Noah was facing the open door, eyes narrowed on whoever he was looking at.
"No, my sister doesn't want to see you . . . uh, Leo?"
"I'm not Leo!" said a very familiar voice.
"Jon?"
"I'm not Jon either!"
"Quinn—no, Jerry?"
"Christ, how many boyfriends has your sister had?!"
I crept to the front door and looked over Noah's shoulder to see none other than Dante. His eyes switched onto me immediately.
"It's alright, Noah; this is Dante."
Noah's expression softened. "Oh, Dante from last night?"
I nodded.
"Well, sweet. Come on in," said Noah with a dramatic change of demeanor.
Dante glanced at Noah before walking in past him. He was wearing a different pair of black trousers, white undershirt, and heavy black coat that resembled a trench coat.
"How did you find me?" I inquired, closing the door behind him.
"Looked you up," he said simply. He pulled something out of his pocket and tossed it to me. I caught it and looked down at it. My Razor cell. I looked at him, half smirking.
"You came all this way to give me my broken cell phone?"
"Not really," he said with another glance at Noah. "And it's not broken. I guess it came out of your pants pocket before I put it in the washing machine."
"Oh," I said, opening it. I looked at him. "Cool, thanks."
"No prob."
I set my cell on the kitchen table and smiled up at him. He was standing there awkwardly looking slightly uncertain about something.
"Don't be scared. It's called a floor," I teased. "I assume you have never seen one since your floor consists of cans, pizza boxes, clothes, bugs, and rodents."
Noah made a face. "I'm gonna go watch TV," he said, shaking his head. He left into the den and then there was the sound of the television turning on.
Dante chuckled under his breath. "Nice kid."
"Sit," I offered, pointing at the table. "Want some coffee? Tea? Wine?"
"Got anything stronger?" he inquired as he sat down. I grinned as I turned my back on him and walked into the kitchen.
"Sure. I still have a full bottle of 51."
He raised his eyebrows. "Damn. You don't joke around."
"Well, I was saving it, but why not?" I said, standing on my tippy toes in attempt to pull it out of the highest counter.
"Here," said Dante. He was suddenly right behind me without me gaining any knowledge of him being there. Or so quickly. I glanced at him sideways over my shoulder. He pulled the bottle easily from the top counter, grinning. "You're such a shrimp."
"Short people are sexy," I smirked, grinning back up at him and taking the bottle from his hands. I pulled out two shot glasses and laid them out in front of me. "How much?"
"Depends. Middle of the glass is usually entertaining, top of the glass usually gets wild."
I bit down on a smile as I turned my back to him again and poured it nearly to the brim. I brought the glasses to the table, shifting his to him before sitting down.
"You like things wild," he noted, taking it into his hand.
The corners of my lips twitched.
"Cheers."
We both drained our glasses. The stuff felt like someone had poured gasoline down my throat and then threw a lighter on it.
"Phew," I said, placing it back on the table.
"So, Rave, what have you been up to today?" Dante inquired as he set down his glass. I began to trace my finger over the brim of my glass.
"Funny you should ask that," I said, looking up at him. He arched an eyebrow.
"Yeah?"
"I was in the gym showers today," I started leisurely.
"Okay, so far, I'm liking it," he said with an impish grin. I only half-heartily returned it.
"And a demon attacked me and sucked me into Limbo."
His smile faltered. "What?"
"And that's not all," I said, ignoring him. "He said your name."
His expression hardened. "My name?"
"Yeah. Like it was searching for you. But why come to me? Unless, this is my theory anyway, it saw me with you. Then, maybe it thought I knew where you were. But the question is," I added, studying his face carefully, looking for any hints of discomfort. "Why was it looking for you in the first place?"
Dante shifted himself in his chair, glancing out at the window.
"All kinds of demons have been after me lately, including that Pathaway demon."
I arched an eyebrow, staring at him. "You're serious?"
He met my eyes. "Yeah. I don't know why it started to chase you, though. There I was, ready to battle, then all of sudden it just catches your scent and runs off. I wasn't sure what to think of it. But I guess now they're starting to realize that you know me, and that's why that demon attacked you in the gym."
I sat back in my chair, gazing at him.
"I need another drink," I muttered, getting my glass and walking back into the kitchen.
"I didn't think they'd think anything of it since I'm—well . . ." he faded off awkwardly. I looked up at him as I filled up another shot glass.
"You're?" I prompted, eyes narrowed slightly.
"I'm kinda with a lot of girls, so I don't know why it suddenly thinks that you're significant."
I rolled my eyes before downing my glass again.
"Thanks."
"Not like that," he said irritably. "You know what I mean."
I shrugged, taking the bottle in my hand and bringing it to the table where Dante refilled his own glass.
"Why do you have demons coming after you?" I asked as he finished off another glass.
He didn't answer but refilled yet another glass. His tolerance must have been really high.
"Fair enough," I said. "After all, we just met."
He looked out of the window again.
"Anyway, I didn't come here just to give you your cell back."
I raised my eyebrows. "Oh yeah?"
He stood up, and I was impressed at how stable he was. "Not just a booty call either."
I clasped my hand to my chest and gave him a mock-hurt expression. "How offended I am."
He gave me a crooked grin. "I saw your skills and what you can do. And—since you're already inevitably involved, I was gonna ask if you want to join the team."
I was extremely taken aback. "What team?"
"Well, my brother and I, really," he said. "You've been fighting lone-wolf for a long time, babe. Thought you might be interested in a trio."
I looked at him, a small grin coiling on my lips. "Trios are always most fun."
He grinned back. "So what do you think, cat-eye? Three of us going out on nights and going to fight some demon scum side-by-side? Maybe even get to know each other a little bit," he added.
I smirked, placing one of my legs on the table top so it slipped from underneath my silk bathrobe and lay there quite exposed to Dante who looked from the leg to me, still grinning.
"I think I'd like that," I said smoothly.
