Chapter II: The Devil in 2F

Sunlight streamed through the window, illuminating the room that Dante had been occupying for only a few days now. He lay in bed, still in a lazy slumber until finally the sunlight's contact with his face persuaded him to wake up. He blinked groggily a few times, stretching with a wide yawn and then rolled over to grab the alarm clock from the night table and check it, bringing it closer to his face.

10:24 am. He hadn't slept the day away!

He put the clock down and got up, stretching and yawning. Over the past few days, the room had become a little closer to his personal taste and a lot cozier. Clothes were strewn on the sofa and the floor around his bed and he shuffled through them for a pair of faded charcoal cotton pants. As he pulled them on, his gaze fell on his two guns: A fine pair of heavy .45 mm firearms lying haphazardly on the small table. The Rebellion sword was propped up against the wall since the day he moved in. There had been no need to use either of them and he wondered whether he should go looking for trouble or not.

After he'd pulled the trousers on, not bothering with shoes or a shirt, he walked out into the chilly hall, stretching and yawning viciously, headed for the bathroom. While at first it felt tedious to have to walk so far to the bathroom, he soon realized it helped him wake up in the mornings. So far he hadn't crossed paths with the snappy red-head in the hallways, or seen much of her around. She usually avoided him, even in the communal kitchen. A couple of times he'd found her there making a meal for herself, but she always took it to her room and hardly ever spoke a word to him.

Sometimes she would give him weird looks and then turn away and walk right off. One night he found her watching some movie on the TV in the lounge, with a gray cat lying on her lap and she perfectly ignored him. He rarely saw her in the mornings and most of the time not for the majority of the day. Although Roy had mentioned in passing that she habitually went on long walks around the city by herself, he'd never run into her when he went out and about. The feminine, if subtle, citrus-like scent he picked up from the shower stall sometimes, was the surest way to tell when she had gotten up before him.

He gave another wide yawn as he reached the bathroom door.

"Be careful, a bee might fly in. But I guess your breath would kill it anyway."

Speak of the devil, he thought.

Dante looked to his left. Tess had obviously woken up earlier than him, because she was fully awake and dressed, closing and locking her door. He noted she looked ready to head downstairs, her hair still tied in a loose ponytail, the usual unconcerned fashion. Dante just scratched the back of his neck, yawning. So she wanted a morning rant match and in fact, she started it. Well, she wasn't the only one who woke up cranky! He got in her way as she headed for the stairs and got right in her face, making sure to breathe heavy as he spoke.

"I bet you're no princess when you first wake up."

Tess shut her eyes and backed away from him, annoyed at that action, then simply walked around and past him. "Yeah well, at least I brush my teeth," she said, giving him a sly look over her shoulder as she went to the staircase. "But I guess compared to you I look fine. Even you look happy to see me, unless you sleep with pencils in your pocket," she said, chuckling pointedly.

Dante, still a little out of it from having just woken up, didn't catch that right away and looked down on himself.

Oops.

Perhaps he ought to put waking up proper over poking fun of her. He winced faintly at the sight of a light bulging on his pants; it was just an awkward, chance crease at exactly the wrong spot, but it looked like an overlooked morning wood. He shrugged it off, straightening his pants a little while calling over his shoulder as he went in the bathroom: "I was thinking of you with some more meat on your bones! That's the only way thinking of you that I could get it up!"

That should teach her,he thought, expecting her to be too shocked to reply.

However, Tess did reply, although when she did, her face was hot from embarrassment. She stopped on the stairs and turned to call to him: "Well don't count on me to help you get it down—unless I kick you! That should do it!"

Dante frowned and muttered to assure himself the last word of the low-blow match: "I wouldn't let you near me like that even if your hands were made of velvet!"

He closed the bathroom door behind him. As he expected, the shower reeked of citrus again.

Meanwhile, Tess trotted down the rest of the stairs and went into the kitchen. A gray cat with green eyes was sitting on a rug in the lounge area and stared at her with wide eyes as she came inside. It looked almost surprised. It then spoke, with a voice that sounded unmistakably like Roy's, right down to the faintly British lisp.

"What…are you two talking about?" the cat quipped.

Tess, completely unimpressed at the talking cat, opened the fridge, took out a jug of orange juice and poured herself some in a glass. "Nevermind," she said unconcerned.

She could hear the shower turned on for some time, upstairs while she drank some juice and then fetched a frying pan and materials for pancakes. Then the sink turned on for a while. When it shut off, she heard the creaky door open and imagined Dante pouring out with the steam. The thought made her frown while mixing the batter. The gray cat hopped onto the counter beside her, purring while she started pouring the batter in the hot pan. Tess stroked the cat's fur absently, drinking her orange juice slowly while watching the pancakes and listening to the weather forecast on television. Unusually cold weather was the main feature.

"You look angry. Nice change from your depression," the cat said, flicking its tail softly. "I was sick of you being such a stone-cold little shrew. It almost makes me glad that brat came along. Maybe you did need someone like him to bully you."

Tess frowned. "Just where do you see the good in that? He just irritates me."

The cat let a chuckle. "Good, get a taste of your own medicine."

"Oh come on. I am not that bothersome."

"No, just a mean little shrew" the cat said sarcastically.

"Am not."

"The attitude of everyone towards you begs to differ."

Tess gave up with a huff. She didn't feel like arguing with him. She dropped the subject and just drunk some more juice, glancing at the windy weather outside and then poured another bit of batter into the pan.

Meanwhile, Dante dried out his hair with a towel and smiled, feeling refreshed as he walked to his room to change, shutting his door behind him gently. A shower sure did good to make him forget about the bitchy little Twig! He wrestled around with his bag until it surrendered a pair of black jeans. He slipped them on with a dark gray shirt he picked off the back of chair nearby. He looked for his shoes and grunted irritably when he had to drop on his hands and knees and reach under the bed for one of his boots. As he went down the stairs a few minutes later, his stomach made an obnoxious, demanding growl.

He gasped "Breakfast!" and rushed back upstairs. After grabbing a microwaveable breakfast wrap from his room, he darted downstairs to the kitchen.

He smirked, seeing Tess standing by the stove in the lounge room, cooking something and drinking juice. He smelled pancakes. While he was in the corridor, for a moment he had the impression that he heard her talking to someone, but when he actually entered the room she fell silent. He glanced over at her, which she returned, unconcerned. That's when he noticed the gray cat standing by her feet. He'd seen it around sometimes and assumed it was a pet. It always stared at him with large eyes quite intently and did so now as well.

For some strange reason, Dante thought of Roy suddenly. Where'd the old man go?

His stomach gave another clench, demanding to be fed and he shrugged the thought off. He opened the box and tossed the wrap in the microwave, setting it to start. The cat let a throaty meow and stretched a little. It padded closer to Dante, sniffing and swishing its tail. Dante glanced at the cat, then back at the microwave. The cat snorted audibly and shook its head vigorously, as if the smell annoyed it terribly, which made Tess scoff and then it scuttled out of the kitchen.

She looked over her shoulder, staring at him while lifting the pan off the cooker. "Ew, are you going to eat another nuked meal for breakfast? Is that all you eat?" she said.

Dante leaned his pelvis on the counter and crossed his arms "As a matter of fact, I do" he stated, absolutely unconcerned. "I don't know how to cook. I don't care, so lay off my eating habits and start worrying about developing some of your own!"

Tess rolled her eyes. "You're acting like it's the hardest thing on the friggin' planet!" she said, draining the last of her orange juice. "I mean, for God's sake, even I can cook a simple meal and I'm no household genius either."

Dante just shrugged as the microwave dinged. "I just dunno how, alright? And by the looks of things, you don't know how to, either!"

He opened the microwave and retrieved his wrap. It should have burned his fingers, but he held it firmly and took a bite. The radiated meal steamedand yet he took another bite, like it was lukewarm. He tossed the package over his shoulder and into the trashcan and walking over, dropped onto the sofa in the other side of the lounge, opposite her.

Tess stared at that exhibition of resistance to being burned, raising her eyebrows for a moment then shook her head and returned her attention to her own breakfast. Dante just shrugged and kept eating his meal with a smirk. So she didn't live on air after all! She poured a last dose of batter in the pan over the kitchen fire while he watched without much interest.

He was however, noticing something like skepticism in her countenance. It was as if she wasn't certain whether she trusted keeping her back to him. He watched the red torrent of hair down her back whip to each side as she jerked her head to flick some loose hairs off her face, not really paying attention to her. He was watching for something else that he had been noticing the past few days.

"So how long's it been since someone actually lived here besides you and Roy?" he asked absently.

"And my grandmother," Tess sighed. "I think it's been two years," she added dryly.

Dante watched her flip a pancake up from the pan; it turned in mid air and landed neatly back in the pan. She did it in a surprisingly professional manner and after a while prodded it gently with a fork to make sure it was done then dumped it onto a pile of the rest of the pancakes on a plate. "Last tenant was a dipshit who didn't pay the rent on time and kept pissing off Roy."

Dante ate the rest of his piping hot breakfast, then got off the couch, went up to her as she carried her plate to the table and replied in that same smug attitude. "I bet he ran off in terror of you!" he said cheerily, picked up a jug of maple syrup before she could and poured a generous amount over her pancakes, much to her surprise. "Now eat! I'm outta here!"

Tess rolled her eyes and stabbed some of the pancakes with a fork. "I'm not miserable," she mumbled.What a lie, a tiny voice in the back of her mind sighed. She scowled at the unwanted thought and angrily bit into a syrupy pancake.

With that, he walked out of the kitchen and back up the stairs to fetch himself a shirt and his coat. After talking with her, he felt like going out. He had noticed some odd activity around the convenience store the last couple of days and he wanted to go back to it and have a closer look today when he expected it would be closed and no one would really notice him. He finally found his brown bomber jacket, fleece-lined and better suited for the cold mornings, among the mass of crumbled and tattered clothes in his bag or around the floor. He thought he probably had to finally make some good use of that laundry room Roy had mentioned and sort his clothes out later. He pulled a thicker, black shirt on and then bolted down the steps and out the door.

Tess, having gone through less than half of the food, looked up as he left; she hesitated and then without even being sure why, she got up from the table and called after him. "Hey! Where are you going?"

Roy was just coming into the kitchen when Tess rushed out and trampled over his toes while grabbing her jacket from the hall. "Ouch!—yes, good morning to you too!" he said with evident sarcasm.

"You can eat the rest of the pancakes. Bye!" Tess told him and whipping on her jacket, ran out the door.

Roy just stared at the door swinging shut with a deadpan look. "Huh. Sixteen years and I still don't get that little-" he mumbled, going in the kitchen and eying the pancakes with a look that turned slightly gleeful.

She caught up to him as Dante calmly walked down the street toward the little convenience store that Tess had first taken him to with his hands in his pockets, trying not to pay attention to the stares of a few people walking along the streets. A woman walking her Labrador passed him by and the dog lingered and tugging its leash, sniffed in his direction for a moment before barking nervously at him and shoving its tail between its legs. Tess tilt her head a bit as he looked at it sideways and pressed on; the dog's behavior struck her as unusual.

Dante looked over as he heard the dog bark again, this time at the red-head coming past it and after him.

"You know, you can't just barge in and out like that. What are you up to?" Tess asked him boldly. Since when am I so nosy? But I just have this nagging feeling

Dante stopped with a sigh, looked at her over his shoulder and then turned. "What do you mean I can't just barge in and out? Building's a free ground. What, think you're my mom?" he said, poking her with a finger. "Gotta learn to mind your own business, Twig." With that, he walked towards the store again, a bit more quickly this time. There was that strange feeling again that got him wondering about the girl.

She followed, jogging to keep up. "I don't mean it like that! But we don't know you. You're living in my home and I don't really trust you yet. How do I know you aren't…aren't going to get drugs or whatever?"

Really, Tess? she thought, conscious of how she sounded. That's your excuse? Ugh,that sounded awkward. She blushed a little again, but hoped it would look like it was the cold to blame for it. Why am I following him? I hate being curious! But I want to see what he's up to. He's strangeand it's not his hair.

Dante chose to ignore her, pressing on and missed the entrance to the store. Actually, he walked right past the entire store and abruptly turned and headed down an alley made by the side of the store and the building to its right. He looked around the alley with sharp eyes as he walked.

Tess watched him, puzzled and then turned to look at the entrance of the store as she passed by while following him, calling after him "Hey, where are you going, the store is back—"

She stopped mid-sentence, her gaze fixed on the door to the shop. She froze in place trying to finish the rest of her sentence but her mouth opened and closed like a fish out of water. She turned her gaze from the door towards the alley and her expression went blank save for her brows that made a soft frown. Her vision tunneled sharply making the world around her swim and disorienting her. She winced, bringing her hand to her head, squinting and blinking. A muffled sound like white noise erupted in her ears, on and off and on again the sound only adding to her bewilderment. She looked back at the door quite fixedly, fidgeting, for a moment. She made to speak again but all that came was a small gasp. She kept staring at the door, not certain about what she saw, then her eyes widened and for several seconds she was petrified from terror…then just as suddenly as this strange feeling crept into her it was over as her eyes rolled inside their sockets, shut and she fell on the ground on her side with a soft thump, in a dead faint.

Dante was bent over something in the alley when he heard the thump. He got up and walked back around the corner quickly. Poking a look around the corner and seeing the red-head lying on the pavement and not moving, he let a low, bit-off cuss and hurried to her side. If his suspicions were confirmed about this place, she had been very foolish to follow him there.

"Shit. Hey, hey girl—Tess! Tess!" he said, knelt beside her and shaking her gently.

When she didn't respond, he pressed his fingers just beneath her jaw. He breathed out. Okay, she had a pulse, so she wasn't dead. She sure as hell looked bad though. Her breathing was weak and she felt so cold it was like someone had put her in the fridge! He looked at her, confused and not quite sure what to do.

"Ah, for fuck's sake," he sighed, then picked her up into his arms. She was completely limp and as expected, didn't weigh very much.

"Hmph, 'I'm fine' you say…my ass," he muttered and carried her back to the apartment complex. At least nobody saw him carry her back. Last thing he needed was someone seeing him carry the Twig bride-style. He winced at that thought. He climbed the steps and manipulated the door with his elbow and foot to swing it open, walked inside and called for Roy.

"Hey Roy!"

To his surprise, the man came almost crashing down the stairs cussing, with a war-cry of sorts, brandishing a…broomstick in a most hostile manner, as if it were a spear. He must have been sweeping upstairs and Dante's shouting had startled him.

"Who the hell—" he stopped dead and silent when he saw Dante stand there, holding Tess limp in his arms. He let a weird sound like a gasp, dropped the broomstick and rushed up to him.

"Good God, Tess! What happened!" he demanded, glaring Dante and for a moment the teenager nearly swore that he saw the foreman's eyes glow an eerie amber color but the next moment his attention was entirely on the heavy fist that Roy was shaking as he took a step towards him. "If you've done something stupid and gotten her involved, so help me I'll-"

"Whoa, slow down old man!" Dante blurted, stumbling back a little as his feel stepped onto the creaky board on the floor, while he stepped away from Roy, who was advancing on him in an aggressive manner, clearly upset. Still, his hold on Tess, limp in his arms, didn't slack. "This ain't my fault, okay? She just dropped over on me! Quit your barking and let's get her to lie down!"

Roy grunted in a worried manner and pulling the door open abruptly, he ushered Dante through the very door that he had told the teenager to stay out of, the one that led to the owner's apartment.

He stumbled in, Roy leading him straight into a larger room. Roy directed him towards a sofa and the two of them placed Tess there, Roy stuffing a pillow behind her head to prop it up. Dante would have liked to check the room out, but he found himself too concerned about what was wrong with the still unconscious girl lying on the sofa. He found it was a bit unnerving that she'd be out for so long and hesitated to tell Roy about his suspicions. Roy checked her pulse and then her forehead for fever, looking very anxious.

"Thank God, she's just passed out-but so cold! What happened!" he asked Dante, staring at him a bit angrily.

Dante shrugged at his accusing countenance, looking back at him wide-eyed and spontaneously started "I didn't—"

He took a deep breath to stop himself and then explained "I was on my way to the store and I guess she was tailing me. I heard someone collapse, so I turned around, and there she was all over the pavement. I rushed over, checked her vitals, couldn't get her to wake up, didn't know what the heck to do with her, so I picked her up, and here we are."

Roy nodded, listening. "Hmph. Did you see what she did before she collapsed? Did anyone touch her, did she see something; did you feel anything that she might've felt? Anything you remember," he said quickly, yanking Dante closer by then sleeve, when he seemed likely to shuffle out of there.

Dante winced, pulling his arm free from the old man, frustrated at his interrogation. "What is this, 20 questions? I told you what happened. That's all there's to it!"

Roy shook his hand in a dismissive manner. "Where'd this happen, again?"

"I told you, right in front of the convenience store. I was my way on my way to it when I heard her collapse. I turned around and there she was passed out all over the pavement. I checked her pulse then brought her here. That's it!" He hated to admit it, but he started to worry about her. This wasn't some faint easy to recover from, otherwise she'd have come-to by now. "So what's with her?"

Roy shook his head. He looked absent-minded. "Nothing to worry about. It-it happens to her sometimes. She's just a bit…sensitive," he said, trying to sound honest, but failing.

Suddenly Tess spoke up herself, in a very small, tired voice. "Rubbish. I'm not sensitive," she muttered, starting to recover. She fidgeted.

Roy whipped around to the sound of her voice. "Ah good, so you're coming to at last. What happened?" he asked her, stroking her hair tenderly.

Dante also stared at her. "Uh, that didn't seem so normal to me. You don't just collapse like that. It took you a while to wake up!" Dante said to Tess. He was relieved that she was alright-but didn't want to show it. It took a lot of responsibility off his shoulders.

Tess gently pushed off Roy's hand, sitting up with a little groan, and glanced at Dante before answering. "The same old thing."

"Oh come on, you aren't being serious!" Roy protested.

She shook her head. "I am, I saw—"

"You saw nothing, child. You're having a feverish raving."

Now Dante whipped around, surprised by that unknown voice, that sounded pretty creepy, though elderly, respectful and sagely…and still creepy.

An old woman stood by the door leading further into the house. She was thin, with a darker complexion than Tess, tall and very rigid. Dante was reminded of evil queens from fairy-tales, with those piercing brown eyes, a fair amount of wrinkles and the graying hair, tied in a long pigtail down her back. She came closer, her deep purple, satin dress swishing against the carpet. The turtle-neck dress, completely covering her legs to the feet, with long sleeves and the black silk shawl around her shoulders made her look even more regal. When she came closer, the scent of a cigarette's smoke came to his nostrils, from the end of a long, straight pipe.

Dante gulped; she indeed had the air of a grand lady and he became suspicious of her. Of what, or why exactly, he wasn't sure, but he was certain that there was more to this old woman than she showed, because of her commanding manner to the way she walked, like a sage. It could have been something as innocent as old-age quirkiness...or something different.

Dude, if someone looks like a witch in this house, that's her, Dante thought, raising an eyebrow.

The old lady walked up to Tess and felt her forehead, despite the girl's protest. Dante stared at her, watching her carefully. She was seriously an odd-looking woman and looked like she had walked out of an old painting.

This place gets funnier the more I stay around. Wonder what other surprises are on the way. Is this granny that girl in the photo out in the lobby? Can't be- Oh yeah. I gotta get back over there! he thought to himself.

Tess glared at the old woman in a rather hostile manner. "You're not going to make me look like a lunatic again?" she said sarcastically.

The woman replied in a perfectly calm, unaffected manner, picking her pipe from her mouth softly. "You are the one who brings this on yourself with your insistence."

Roy attempted to interject. He sounded more respectful than Dante had ever seen him "Err…I don't really think it's wise to—"

She interrupted him decisively. "Quiet Roy," she said, glancing from Dante to Tess and then back at Dante. "Thank you for bringing my granddaughter home. I'm sorry if she caused you trouble."

Dante nodded, bored. He wanted to shout. Of course she caused him trouble, it was all she did! He was in the middle of something important. This thought urged him to leave. "No problem. Uh, anyway. I'm goin' now. Hey Roy, catch you later. Don't lock me outside!" he said, saluting the foreman casually.

With that, Dante bolted out the door into the lobby, then and back outside toward the store. It just occurred to him then. So that's her grandmother? What did Roy say her name was? Magda? Something like that. Sheesh, freaky old lady. No wonder the Twig's so uptight. I'd be crazy with such a granny too.

He never noticed Tess' glare on his back as he left. It was as if she looked upset he went. She was left in deeper trouble. Magda Templar stared at the door shutting after Dante then turned back to Tess, as if blaming her for something.

"I don't like him staying here," she told the girl sharply, irritated.

"Well like it or not he is! You can't kick him out on your whim," Tess replied, frustrated. She really hated her grandmother's attitude sometimes. Well, most of the time.

Magda smirked at her granddaughter's stubborn reply. "And what does it mean to you?"

The girl frowned in reply. "Nothing. I just don't like you bullying everyone like you do me. And while I'm at it, I did see something, I—"

"Enough," Magda said sharply, her tone louder now. "I will not tolerate this folly from you any longer. You cannot keep on these claims that you see things. The only way that would be possible, is if you were mentally disturbed. Are you?" she then asked, with a pointed, rather mean smirk.

Tess hissed at her angrily. "No! I'm- I'm not!"

The old woman stood over her, looking down with a sneering look. "Then what did you see?"

Tess could not reply immediately. She fumbled with her fingers, looking down, confused. "I…I-I don't know."

Magda shook her head in dismiss. "Hmph, do you ever?" She dismissed the entire thing and took her leave, slowly, but not before turning to Tess and glowering at her. "Go to your room. You're unwell."

Tess opened her mouth to protest then shut it without making a sound, frowned badly, got up from the couch, stomped past Roy, who looked upset at the whole scene, and went upstairs to her room. She slammed the door behind her obnoxiously loud.

Meanwhile, Dante ran past the few people on the streets as fast as he could, making a sharp turn down the same alley on the far side of the store as he had before. He came to a fence that blocked the only way to the back of the building. He easily got over it by jumping effortlessly, hitting his foot against the wall on the side, and jumping over the fence. He landed smoothly and moved up to the back of the store. It was quiet and just as he had thought.

A puddle of blood remained behind the store, just in front of the back door. He slowed to a halt, knelt by the blood, touched it with his fingertips and pulled it closer to his face. As he pulled the sample, a string of it stranded from his fingers back to the puddle and broke. Too thick for human blood. He sniffed it, wrinkled his nose, and stood, wiping the blood on his jacket's sleeve. It definitely wasn't human blood. He looked around. He saw further evidence of his quarry spattered on the wall behind the store. They had been here, but they hadn't attacked.

He shook his head, there was nothing to be done here and the only thing he could do was to calmly walk back to the apartment complex, thinking. He opened the door slowly and walked in, noticing Roy just walking over to his usual place by the service counter with a cup of coffee, from the kitchen. He walked up to the old man as he sat down and, uncertain why he even cared, asked "Hey, she okay?"

Roy let a sigh, looking rather irritated. "She'll be alright. But not for long, if Magda keeps provoking her like that," he said, taking his seat behind the counter again.

Dante looked confused for a moment then whispered to the man "What's wrong with her?" If that freaky old lady was still in the other room, Dante wasn't in the mood to let her know he was around.

Roy took a sip of his coffee and looked up at him, a little surprised he asked. "There's nothing…wrong with the girl. Just-ah, it's not my place to say!" he said, sounding like he did want to talk about it, but also didn't feel it was right to do so. "You want to know that bad, you should ask her yourself," he said with a sulk. "But I can tell you this: Magda's only being a hag to her because of Tess' old man."

Dante became more confused, and yet interested too. He leaned over "What about her old man?"

Roy frowned. Bringing this up was obviously unpleasant. "Magda didn't like him, that's what!" he said, irritated. "Never liked her daughter marrying him," he said then cringed. "Gah! I'm not supposed to be saying anything of this!" he grumbled and got up again and picked up his toolbox along with his coffee. "I've got work to do. Blasted heater's broken again," he muttered and trudged off to the basement.

Dante frowned in slight disappointment. He knew Roy wasn't telling him something. He likely didn't want to betray the trust of the people he worked for. But then again…this weird trio that Dante shared the building with was really strange and he suspected they were hiding something, particularly Tess and that creepy grandmother of hers. It was just a hunch, a feeling in his gut, but so far experience had taught him to trust those hunches.

He then remembered the other thing occupying his mind and shrugged the issue about Tess off for now and bound up the stairs to his room, opened the door, and gently shut it behind him. He rustled through his bag, not quite knowing what he was looking for, but immediately recognized it when he found it: A book with a black cover. It was a black hardcover book, the size of a notebook, and the creases in its surface suggested it was old. He opened the book and searched for an explanation as to what he saw. It took some time before he found what he was looking for. The door he once gently shut creaked a little and opened itself just a hair.

Unaware of being watched, he mumbled to himself, confirming his suspicions. "Bloodgoyles."

He never noticed Tess being at the door that was left a little open till she talked. "I'm surprised you even know what they're called. Most people don't even see them for what they really are."

He looked over his shoulder; she looked stiff and quiet as ever, holding her arms firmly folded over her chest. Dante slammed the book shut and turned towards her as he stood. He walked over to the door silently with an angry smile on his face.

As he came to the door, he held the knob, leaned forward into her face and said "Bye."

With that, he shut the door in her face, but not loudly and it clicked as he locked it. He didn't even stop to wonder how she knew about Bloodgoyles until a lot later. All he cared about at the time was that she had been snooping in on him and that bothered him.

Tess stared at the shut door, surprised at the rudeness, then frowned badly. She turned and headed for her room again, mumbling "Curse you. I hope you fall on your face."

Dante emerged from his room before sundown with another box of microwavable food. He popped the box off as he thudded back down the stairs, and lightly again on the hardwood floor as he entered the kitchen area, only to find Roy cooking something up over the stove.

"Evenin' Roy!" he called.

Roy replied with a little grunt. He was cooking spaghetti of some kind in a pot and Dante nearly envied it. "What did you do to her this time?"

Dante pulled a wry face and stopped dead in his tracks. "What? Am I gonna get blamed every time something happens to the Twig?"

Roy chuckled. "Of course not. But if she death-glares when I mention your name, probably means you did something. And I sure as hell don't like suffering her bad moods this often. All I'm saying is watch your butt. She doesn't look much, but she can really mess you up."

He stared at the young man up and down, and cracked a sly grin, seeing something Dante didn't. "In fact I'd say she has already," he chuckled.

Dante stared blankly at the old man for a good ten seconds, half waiting for him to explain, half just not knowing what to do or say to that. He just shrugged and moved toward the microwave "Right," he said. She's a twig. What the hell could she do to me?

Roy shook his head. "You know, I got the amounts wrong and I cooked for more. Er…wanna swap that microwave bomb for a load of this? I hope you like pasta," he said, completely straight-faced and tasted a bit of the red sauce he was making from the edge of the spoon. "Hmm, just perfect," he decided.

Dante looked at him sideways and without missing a beat, asked "Huh? You sure, old timer?"

He had just shut the microwave and was ready to turn the knob, keeping his fingers on the wheel in case Roy suddenly changed his mind. Dante thought that it wasn't beyond him. But on the other hand, that food the old man was cooking did smell awfully good.

Roy just chuckled. "I'm sure. Look, boy, just 'cause the world out there is a crazy place, doesn't mean some people can't do something outta good intentions," he said, stirring the sauce slowly. "Besides, I always think it's good business and good manners to welcome new tenants with a dinner on the house."

Dante grinned and instantly opened the microwave and stuffed his nuke-food back in the box. "Thanks Roy. I know you cooked more on pur—"

As he turned, his boot locked behind his opposing ankle, making him lose balance, fall and nearly fell smack on his face. His microwave dinner slid along the floor and stopped right before the door. The would-be demon hunter moaned as he came back to his feet and rubbed his chin furiously.

"What the-!" he quipped, wondering how the hell he did that.

Roy bit back a laugh but gave a lopsided grin. "Careful! Good Heavens, that was loud. You alright? Nothing broken? Huh, must've tripped on some loose board. They always creak and pop loose," he commented. However, he tone belied that knew something else.

Tess suddenly came in, as Dante got up and she even picked up the food packet from the floor for him and tossed it onto the table. She looked rather satisfied with what she saw. "What was that, Godzilla walking through the kitchen?" she laughed.

Dante gave her a sideways, evil look and silently blamed his trip on her, somehow just knowing she had something to do with it from that smug grin on her face.

"Couldn't have been you, Twig!" he retaliated. "You're much too small to make such a noise. In fact, I'd bet that when you stumble, you just glide through the air!" he said impatiently, making a motion with his hand suggesting she could glide.

Tess wasn't fazed, she just grinned, amused. "Maybe. Or maybe I'm so thin so I can ride my broomstick easier," she laughed, walking over to Roy and looked at the pots on the stove. "Mmm, you made one of my favorites. You have some favor to ask me or something?" she asked.

Roy gave her a sideways glance, with a mock-indignant look. "Are you suggesting I'm trying to bribe you?" he said, amused.

Tess grinned at him more sweetly than Dante expected her to be able to be. "Back when I was 10 or something, maybe. Not now though," she said, then jabbed her thumb in Dante's direction. "He gonna join us or is he just here to sweep the floor with his butt?"

Roy gave a nod. "He is."

Her eyebrows bowed up, but she looked content. "Oh, good. Perhaps now you won't nag me to eat more."

"He's gonna join you. I have something to do once I'm done cooking. I'm eating late," Roy corrected her.

Tess stared at him. "You're gonna leave me alone with him?" she said in a mock dramatic way. "A total stranger at my age?"

Roy didn't seem to appreciate her joke and glared. "Well, I trust you dislike each other enough to not rape each other," he muttered sourly.

Tess stared at him wide-eyed, in a look of genuine shock and blushed a deep shade of red. And Dante's face, though pale, turned a little red at the suggestion of any kind of sexual act with the present girl, but he was able to suppress it quickly.

He quickly turned his embarrassment into sarcasm "I dunno, Roy, I think this one's got the hots for me!"

He mockingly moved closer and stretched his arm to place it around her. He tried everything he could to suppress a laugh, but ended up cracking up before his arm draped over her shoulder. This was too good a chance to pick on her to let it go.

Tess folded her arms over her chest, staring at him sourly with her face still rosy. "Oh yeah? Wow, didn't realize I was so taken by you, Romeo," she scowled, swatting his arm off her shoulder and took a big step to the side. "If I remember, you're the one who got a morning wood and admitted thinking about me," she said pointedly.

Ow, touché, Dante thought. "I call the bullshit card, Twig."

Roy coughed, nervous. "Right! Plates are in the cupboard so help yourselves," he declared and made his way out of the kitchen, rubbing the back of his neck and muttering. "I'm too old for this stuff. Kids these days."

Both Tess and Dante chuckled at his reaction but Dante's turned sour soon, as he frowned in anger and folded his arms at her comment. Like he'd ever get morning wood thinking of her! Still, he felt pleased enough from the free meal that he moved to the cupboard that Roy pointed out and pulled out two plates. "Just me and you or is the old lady coming?"

He brought the two plates to Tess who was already over the pots and picked up the spaghetti tongs to serve. She shook her head. "Nah. Grams never eats here. She hardly ever goes out of her house. She's not exactly social, as you saw for yourself. And...don't take what she says personally. She treats almost everyone like that- those that don't meet her standards, that is. Why do you think I live two floors away from her? She never stops bitching about it," she said bitterly.

He handed her one plate, taken aback from her statement. For a moment he forgot his frustration and his curiosity took over. "Huh? But she's family, what's her problem with you? Is she mad 'cause you're so skinny?"

Tess chuckled a bit. "Nah. Other reasons," she said. She handing him a plate, generously loaded with spaghetti and sauce. "She wants to control me, but I like doing things my way. She thinks I'm crazy too." She paused "But it's mostly 'cuz of my dad."

Dante gratefully took his plate and set it near his seat, almost as claim for said seat. He then found forks and set them on the table. He sat where he placed his plate and asked her without looking her in the eyes "What about him?"

It was only a little later that he realized they were talking quite normally to each other, without sarcasm or teasing. He actually hadn't had such a conversation with someone in a long time.

"She just didn't approve of him," she replied cryptically.

But Dante could tell she was hiding something. She was off guard and now was the perfect time for him to drop his question. "So it has nothing to do with that fact that you're a witch?" he asked innocently.

Tess' eyes widened and she fumbled with the plate she was holding. The sound of it smashing on the floor stirred the pause that came before her answer. She stared ahead of her, a bit wary about how to proceed. She slowly turned at him and her look was somewhat scared. Dante tried hard not to let his brows bow up. One sentence had changed everything about her appearance. She wasn't cold, neither stiff, nor all feisty. She just seemed quite casual about it but his brows bowed up at the sight of her eyes turning wide. She sounded more bothered by his bluntness than his knowledge.

"No. She's a witch too. My whole family is. Except my dad, he was…special," she said and slowly turned her back to him again. "I'm kinda glad you knew. I hate pretending being someone I'm not."

He shrugged, as if he didn't care "Took a while to figure out. So where's all the pentagrams and the cauldron with the toad-eyes and chicken feet? No demon-worship altar either?" He picked up the fork and started to nibble at the spaghetti. Not bad at all!

She turned stubborn again. "No. There's nothing like that in our craft. We're of the Right Hand path, we don't work with demons and that kind of crap. We don't…fly on broomsticks either," she said, sounding offended.

He smirked. "Don't do? What, you're the 'good guys'?"

Tess just shrugged, but she seemed pleased with that term. "Put it that way if you want, I'm not going to analyze the whole damn thing for you. We may not get in deals with demons, but that doesn't make us exactly 'good guys'. It's not like you'd understand," she muttered then glared at him. "Besides, you're not normal yourself," she said, crouching down and picking up the pieces of the broken plate. "You're a half-demon."

Dante nodded as he continued to eat and proceeded to talk with a full mouth. This confirmed his thoughts. It made sense that if she was really a witch she would know by now. "Yup. So where was my mistake?" he asked, wondering about what gave him away and why she didn't seem to care or fear him.

He admit to himself that he was a little impressed by how calmly she seemed to have taken the whole matter. She must have known for a while. It probably explained the cryptic looks she directed at him sometimes. But still, her reaction to his half-demon nature was impressively fearless, even sassy.

"Nothing, really," she said, picking up another plate for herself. "I can just see auras. Yours isn't human but it's not entirely demon either," she explained, serving herself. She cracked a smile. "Funny enough it's actually kinda…nice to look at," she admitted.

Dante stopped eating for a moment and smiled. "Heh, you like my aura?"

Tess set her plate, but looked like she lost her appetite and she was awkwardly picking at the food. "It's different than that of humans, devils or wiccans, like mine. I like things that are out of the ordinary. Your aura-well it's interesting. Maybe I could show you sometime," she said, then paused. "What gave me away?"

Dante continued making a glutton of himself and replied again with a full mouth "You did," he said, still stuffing his face.

Tess frowned and started nibbling at her food, less irritated now. "How?"

He paused eating to explain "Feels funny standing next to you. And if I remember correctly," he said, pointing his empty fork at her "You said, 'I hope you fall on your face!' followed by a 'Curse you!'. Not even an hour later, I hook my own boot on my own ankle, and almost do fall on my face. I don't do the clumsy shit often. Kinda weird, isn't it?"

Tess bit her lip in a guilty manner and bit back a smirk. "That could've just been a coincidence."

"And the old lady at the store?"

"She's a crazy old hag. She calls me a witch because I'm a little quirky."

"Bull. You know about Bloodgoyles by name and you said you're surprised I can see them—which means that you can too. What about your little fainting episode? If you dismiss it like some freaky PMS thing, then I'm Elvis."

"About that," she sighed softly and looked at him through the eye for the first time since he started nitpicking at her nature. "You know something's not right in that building too, don't you?" she said.

Dante noticed that she actually looked so nervous to hear whether he believed her or not that her hand was gripping at the tablecloth so hard that her knuckles had gone white. He raised a brow, finally halting his chewing altogether and swallowed. This must have been the first time that someone else had also noticed something he'd already known of.

He nodded slowly. "That's why I went back. Something funny about that place. Someone summoned Bloodgoyles in the back of the building for whatever reasons I don't care to know. Not everyone can see Bloodgoyles for what they are, like you said, so whoever's done it likes keeping a low profile…and they're good at it."

He took a forkful of pasta and kept explaining in a calm, yet concerned tone, while she listened carefully, evidently very interested. "The blood I found behind the store was too thick to be human and too stringy to be any animal's. It stunk too. That book you saw me reading was a book left behind by my brother; it's notes about the different demons."

Can't believe I'm sitting here, talking about demons with a girl. Fuck,I can't believe I'm sitting and talking about this shit...with anyone at all! It's weird, he thought.

Tess listened carefully to whatever he said, then shut her eyes and breathed out in a relieved manner. He could tell she understood he took her seriously and it clearly was a grateful relief for her.

"Yeah," she said, opening her eyes again. "And that's just the tip of the iceberg. They've turned up before, in other places. Bloodgoyles can hide from people with low awareness or no supernatural connection. I know even some wiccans can't see them, they only see red blurs. But I've seen them. Hell, sometimes I know when they're gonna turn up. It took me a couple days to figure out what they are at first, and I had to sneak in my Gram's study. And that's not all. Something is going to happen in there. Something really, really bad. I-" she paused here, looking terribly serious. "I saw…evil there."

Dante repressed a smile. Okay, that sounded cheesy. But the fact that Bloodgoyles had been popping around often was something new to him. "What do you mean?" he asked.

"They've become something of a common occurrence, lately," she explained. "Flocks of them flying around like pigeons, or stalking around on rooftops. And the scary thing is what they're doing. They're not exactly attacking people. They just sit and watch. It's eerie. It's like they're observing something. Up till a while ago, I was pretty much the only one who saw them or even knew they were somewhere around."

His eyebrow bowed up. "Why?"

Her face turned a bit red as she replied. "I-I'm not like other witches. I think…I can see things that others don't. I know things when there's no reason why I should." She stared at him. "Like how you have two guns, one white, one black. You call them Ebony and Ivory."

Dante's eyebrows bowed up but he quickly assumed a look of amused boredom. "Huh, nice try, Twig!" he snorted and took another forkful of pasta. He chewed slowly, his mind agonizing to come up with an excuse for how she could've found out about his guns. He knew he'd kept them hidden and that no one had touched them or been in his room. It was unnerving how she had just 'known' they existed at all, let alone their names, but he'd rather choke on his dinner than admit even to himself how much her nonchalant comment had crept him out.

He cooled himself down enough and swallowed before continuing. "Roy saw me cleaning them the other day and he flipped out a little. I had to do some explaining so he'd cool down and leave me alone about it."

Tess shrugged, shaking her head. "He didn't tell me anything about that, if that's what you're implying, but whatever you say," she said, getting back to finishing her food. "It's not like I expected you to believe me. Why do you think Grams calls me crazy? I'm not supposed to be able to do that. It's just not something witches normally do. Not without some messed up ritual, a truckload of drugs or a trance and possession."

Dante slowly nodded and retorted "Nah, I think I do. You got some kinda freaky intuition there. I just hope you can use it when you have to…not on trivial stuff like what I call my guns."

He finished his dish soon, and sat back in his chair and continued this conversation with her anyway. Something he hadn't planned on. It was just still pretty surreal that he could talk about these kinds of things with someone—let alone the Twig. And there was the fact that she looked entirely different. Like she had dropped all pretending and was acting more like herself. Sure, she wasn't the most pleasant person, but just dropping her defensive attitude and her aggression was a hell of an improvement!

Tess shook her head, "That's the problem. I don't even know just how much I can trust it. I hardly ever control it. It's like…it shows me whatever it wants, whenever it chooses, and it's usually things I don't want to see, and often don't understand. Like…when I fainted. I can't begin telling you what I saw on the door of the building when I passed out," she said with a pained look, then sighed. "It hurts too, you know. Like someone is hammering images in my head, it's almost like an invasion. I'm not even sure how it works. I get premonitions or prophetic dreams. I hear voices sometimes. I see signs. Tarot is eerily accurate with me," she trailed off with a pause. "It's creepy. There's times when I can barely tell reality from these visions. Sometimes I think it's going to really drive me crazy."

Dante let a small whistle of awe. He half envied and half despised the young woman before him for such a power. But then she mentioned the pain and how it scared her. The lack of control. Somehow, he could relate to that.

"I'm not gonna lie to you," he said. "I'm going after this, whatever it is. And if you try to tag along, it's at your own risk." He gave a faint chuckle. "I hardly know you, but I can tell you'd do something crazy…like following me without knowing where I'm going!"

Tess looked up to him, seriously, and half grinning. "That's my plan. Can't help that I'm really interested in this," she let a small chuckle. "That's the only time my craft messes with demons; we stick thorns in their sides. Besides, I can't help it even if I tried. I hate just sitting around and doing nothing when something like this is happening."

Her smile turned more sly and self-confident. It was almost playful. "And don't take me for a weakling, I won't be a burden. I'm not like other witches, like you definitely aren't like other demon hunters."

He looked at her in the eyes with a snide smile and laughed. "Not a weakling, huh? Could'a fooled me! Aside from the spontaneous fainting and the twig-physique, maybe you aren't. But with those factors working against you, I dunno," he said, teasing.

Tess shook her head with a smirk. "Whatever, I'll show you when I have to. Roy's a good teacher, and witchcraft's got its ways to deal with demons. And I have some ace down my sleeve," she said, finishing her share of food and sat back, looking more relaxed and less resentful than usual. "Hey, wanna see what your aura looks like?" she said suddenly, her eyes lighting up with childlike excitement.

Dante was caught off guard with that question, but it fired his curiosity again, he had wondered what auras looked like. "Uh, I guess so. But how are you gonna do that?"

Tess just got up from the chair, with a smile that looked playful. "Follow me," she said cheekily.

Dante stood slowly with a half curious, half worried look about him and followed the Twig. He knew enough about witches to know you couldn't always trust them. And yet he chose to follow her.