Trish grabbed another napkin and pressed it to the man's bloody nose, helping him tip his head back. His blood was getting under her nails, and she was getting annoyed. Was this really worth free drinks the next time they went to the Crimson Flame? She shrugged her shoulders. With the reputation of their signature drink and top-of-the-line parties, she felt it was a fair trade. She could always get Dante to fix her manicure.
Her sight shifted to the scene taking place. Lady had ducked into the nearby bathroom. Probably to load a gun, she assumed. Dante, on the other hand, was still out in the open, clutching the bartender's arm as she swayed in place, both unarmed. The ring leader of the men who'd broken in was staring the two of them down, gun still in hand. He casually swung his arms and took residence in the nearest stool, resting his hand on the counter. "Well, well, look what we have here." His hand sprang up to support his head. "How did I know I'd find you here?"
Dante looked at the bartender, who sensed his questioning gaze. "My ex. His friends call him Scott, but I feel a more proper name would be Penisless Maggot." She pulled her arm out of his grasp and stepped over to the man. "So what brings you here today? Come to crash my party?" She finished the rest of the beer and threw the bottle aside. One of Scott's underlings was hit with it and crashed into the wall behind him, glass shattering in his face. She burped, and an "ahh" echoed from her throat.
"Azera, baby, please. I just thought I'd pay you a little visit. What's wrong with coming to say hi?" Scott pushed his stool closer to her and smiled, tapping his fingers on the counter. She and Dante could smell the intense alcohol flowing off his breath. "Oh, yeah. There was one other thing." In one swift motion, Scott's fist cracked across her face, throwing her off balance and sending her to the floor. Dante immediately shot up from his seat. "That's what you deserve for leaving me." He pushed the stool out from under him and stood up. "Did you really think your little stunt was going to work?" When she didn't reply and tried to pick herself up from the floor, he plowed his foot into her ribs. Dante stormed over to her, only to see Scott point his gun at him. "Hang on there, buddy," the drunk human continued as he casually waved the pistol around. "This doesn't involve you. Either fuck off or you get it between the eyes."
Dante sneered. He knew he could easily take this highly intoxicated man on, armed or not. Neither the gun nor the thought of taking a bullet were an issue. His eyes darted toward the windows, and he saw the bar's previous patrons looking inside. Having them watch him be dealt a fatal blow, only to stand up like nothing happened with a bullet through his head moments later, didn't feel like the best thing to do, not at the moment. And what if the drunk bastard started targeting them? He glanced behind him to Trish, who was flanked by one of Scott's lackeys, a second gun to her back. It was already too risky. As much as he hated to do it, Dante raised his arms in surrender and backed down. He really regretted going into the bar.
Scott smirked. "There, isn't that better?" Keeping the gun pointed toward Dante, his attention went back to the woman on the floor. "Now before I was rudely interrupted, I think we were in the middle of a conversation. Let's get back to that." He kicked her in the stomach. "That one? That's for dumping me. This?" He kicked her a second time, sending her rolling a few feet away, and he followed after her. Dante moved with them, making sure to keep a small enough distance where he could act, but still keeping it wide enough where the human wouldn't do anything too extreme. He kept his gaze shifting from Azera to the gun. "That one's for spreading lies about me." Scott rested his foot on top of Azera's head, twisting it as he applied pressure. "I believe I still owe you one more, for fucking up the rest of my life. And I know just how to deliver it." He raised his foot high, ready to break through her skull and send brain matter spraying all over the venue.
As his foot flew down, he suddenly found himself unable to apply any further pressure. His leg shook from the forces pushing in both directions. Scott turned his knee so he could see what was preventing him from completing his revenge, and saw a hand curled around his boot. "How-" Before he could utter another word, the hand pushed harder, forcing him backwards. Scott watched as the woman stood up, quivering when up on her feet again. She shook the hair out of her face, revealing the swollen muscle in her face and fresh bruising under her eye. Dante saw the stunned expression in Scott's face and took the chance to deal with the human. He grabbed the gun-wielding hand and twisted it behind his back, forcing the weapon from his grip, and kicked it away. He wrestled the human to the ground and pushed on his back with his knee.
"Nice seeing you alert," he commented, holding Scott's arms in place. Dante was a bit amazed to see Azera standing and conscious. He knew not many people would stand so easily after being abused so brutally.
Her sight settled on Dante and her ex. "What did I fu – hic – cking say?" she shrilled. "I said he's mine!" Taking a step forward, she stumbled before regaining her footing. "Let 'im up."
He raised an eyebrow. "S'cuse me?"
"I said get off!" With a swift push, she moved Dante off of the drunk man, who promptly stood up and grabbed her hair and forced eye contact. Dante was ready to lunge. She waved a finger at him and shooed him away.
Scott wiped some splinters from his face. "So now you've got some asshole protecting you?" He shook his head, an angered laugh escaping his lips. It stopped when he heard Azera whisper. "What'd you say?"
"You're boring the shit out of me," Azera replied. Less than a second later, Scott was leaned over, holding onto his gut and coughing. Azera lowered her knee and crossed her arms. "In case you've forgotten, there's a reason behind what I did. I'm not some cheap little whore you can dispose of whenever you're bored." She didn't have to look around to know his backup was drawing closer to her. Scott forced himself to stand, scowling, feeling his pockets for another gun or knife. "You, on the other hand, are just that." He rose to a crouching state, wiping any saliva or blood from his chin as he pulled a switchblade from his back pocket. Azera's back was to him as she continued. "I don't know what I ever saw in you. Maybe I felt sorry for your ass and thought I'd be doing you a favor." Dante noticed the slight movement of Scott's arms from his peripheral vision and saw him hiding the blade behind his back. As Azera marched around and carried on with her speech, the human stood and charged in her direction. Dante quickly chased after him in an attempt to stop him from gutting the bartender where she stood, and she was still lost in her own words. "...Thus, that proves how pathetic you are. And so does THIS!" In one swift motion, Azera spun around and thrust her leg out toward her ex. The rubber bottom of her boot crashed into his forehead and the bridge of his nose, pushing him into the opposite direction. Dante immediately dodged the flying body, which smashed into the adjacent wall, creating a huge hole in it. The half demon's eyes were wide. Azera's foot was back on the floor when she faced him. "Why so surprised?" she asked, placing her hands on her hips. "I dated him for two months. His quirks were easy to pick up. Way too easy, in fact."
Watching the events unfold in shock, two of Scott's henchmen instantly ran for the woman. Again, Azera wasn't paying attention. "Shit," Dante whispered, as he ran for the nearest guy. Within seconds they were back-to-back, landing a serious blow on the enemy closest to them. "You know, you really should watch your surroundings before you get hurt."
"Oh, can it. I told you I got this." She bumped her behind into his, forcing him off of her at the same second Scott's short, chubby friend was headed her way. Azera ducked just as he ran over her and hooked her foot around his, tripping him. He tumbled into the second, ginger-headed lackey and they hit an abandoned table, landing face-first into the forgotten cheese covered nachos. The short one quickly got to his feet and lunged at her again, only to be intercepted by Dante.
"Either you're so drunk you're paranoid," he started, pushing against his foe in a battle of strength, "or you're just faking it." He easily overpowered the human and twisted his arms, forcing him down and punching him. His body twisted and he stumbled into the corner of the bar, hitting his head and instantly falling unconscious. Dante wiped his hands off on his pants and watched Azera half walk, half stagger over to the bar, finding yet another deserted drink. She brought the glass to her lips and drew in the scent of the alcohol. Just as she was going to drink it, she noticed the redhead waking up and preparing to charge to her. Her eye fell on Dante, who also took notice, and their eyes met. She nodded to him, giving him permission to deal with the brute. "As if I were asking," Dante said to himself, cracking his knuckles. In seconds he tackled the human like a football player and slammed him to the floor like a wrestler. The floor splintered like cheap wood and the lackey ceased all movement.
Azera downed the entire glass in one breath. "What does it matter that you didn't ask? They're my problem, not yours." She set the glass down and turned her attention to the other side of the space. Trish and her boss were still being closely monitored by the last henchman, who was pointing a small pistol at them from a few feet away. Their gazes met, her eye squinting, and his following. No words were spoken, but both knew what was about to happen. Azera made a run for it and his finger scrambled for the trigger. He found what he was looking for, but not before her hand grabbed his wrist and twisted it so fast that he let go of the weapon. His other hand made its way to strike her face but was met with air. He looked down to see a foot headed for his chin. It uppercutted him with great force, causing him to wobble backwards and land in a chair. Azera stood and kicked the gun up to her hand, twirling it around her finger. "I never understood why men held guns like that," she commented, and turned toward Trish. "Here." She handed the gun to her. "I have no use for crap like this. Maybe you can get something out of it." Trish accepted the gift with a smirk. Azera pulled a nearby chair up and sat next to them, her focus on the man between them. "Gus, how're you doing?" she asked.
He flashed her a thumbs-up. "Surviving," he replied in a nasal-y voice. "Although it's gonna be a bitch to set this thing back in place."
"Hang on, I've got it." Without waiting for his consent, Azera moved his hand from his face and snapped his nasal cavity back into position. He let out a short yelp and dug his nails into the upholstered seat beneath him. "How's that?"
As she conversed with him, Scott was starting to regain consciousness. His eyes flickered open and he took in everything that was going on. Dante was settling onto a bar stool, waiting for someone to pass him a beer. Trish was cleaning any blood off her hands and out from under her fingernails, muttering something about needing a new manicure. Gus was wiping his face and holding the bridge of his nose, complaining about the destroyed tables and floor. Azera was... Azera. His sight became red. She'd dumped him. She'd embarrassed him. She'd ruined his reputation with women. She'd kicked him into the wall and knocked him out. And now she was going to truly pay, now with her life. He scanned the floor and found his gun surprisingly close by. He easily reached for it and slowly rose from his crack in the wall. And then he picked up great speed for a large man, almost moving faster than a quarterback as he targeted his former lover. His steps were loud enough to gain everyone's attention, Azera's last. Dante jumped from his seat and ran forward. "Stop." He heard Azera yell to him and looked her way. "I already said, he's mine. She immediately ran in his direction. They were on the path to a collision, until she vanished. Dante's eyes could follow her with no problem: she'd slid under Scott's legs, forcing the man to slow down and turn around. Azera stood up and faced him, her expression calm. This time they walked to one another, until barely a foot of space stood between them. Dante didn't like this; at that range, the lunatic could do anything to her. He got closer to them. "Back up before I make you." Her tone was harsh, and he reluctantly replied, but only moved back one step. Her full focus was on Scott now, and his was on her.
He raised his gun to eye level and moved closer, pressing the barrel to her forehead. "You've got a lot of guts doing what you did," he said to her, his face contorted into some form of rage. "But you're going to pay, in the one way you can pay for everything." He watched her, waiting for a fearful reply, waiting for her to beg for her life. But the only response he got was a yawn, her eyes bored.
"Are you finished yet?" she asked. "Good, because I hate speeches...of course, unless I'm giving them. Azera laid her hand on top of his and forced the gun deeper into her skin. "You think you're such a man, Scott? Then do it. I'm not stopping you. Do it if you have the balls...and while you still do have them." He blinked, confused. She looked down and his eyes followed, discovering a stiletto on the side of her already sharp heel resting against his crotch. "Of course, if you're not man enough, I can always rip you a new one. I know you like it that way."
A single shot was fired. Scott fell to his knees again, this time holding his bloodied crotch in his hands, while Azera was still standing, her face hidden behind her hair. She shook it out of her face, revealing no wounds, and stepped over to Scott. She slapped the gun from his shaky hand and grabbed his shirt collar, lifting him a few inches from the ground. Dante was taken aback. The only woman he'd ever seen with such strength was Trish, mostly due to her demonic being. He watched Azera closely. "Now I've got a few words for you," she started, "so listen well." Gus and Trish observed a few curious bar patrons poking their heads through the door, and one or two even stepping into the bar. She and Dante slowly went around the perimeter to keep the patrons a safe distance from the scene, but their ears listened for Azera. "Today, you're not a man anymore, and you never will be one again. You'll have to piss from plastic tubes from now on. You'll never get the pleasure of sex again. No woman will ever love you from this point on. And if I ever see your cowardly face again – whether it's near my bar or just in the street – I'll remind you of why you're not a man. Because this-" one hand slid from his collar to his crotch, and she tightly squeezed it, enough to make him cry- "This belongs to me now. You don't have the pleasure of using it anymore." Azera let go of his injury and leaned her face close to his. Her lips brushed lightly against his cheek and she gave him a small kiss. "Au revoir," she whispered before setting him down and kicking him toward the door. "Grab your friends on the way out. Same goes for them." As the men regained consciousness and stumbled to the exit with their fallen leader, the bar's patrons gradually came back in and started to applaud her. She wiped her hands on her pants and trotted back behind the bar counter, and set out a dozen freshly cleaned glasses. "Anyone care for a drink?"
Lady emerged from the bathroom and rejoined Dante and Trish. "And just what were you doing in there the entire time?" Dante questioned her. "You could've helped us out instead of hiding."
"I wasn't hiding," she snapped at him. "The chef and DJ pulled me in there with them. They were cowering like a couple of babies and begged me to keep them safe from those guys." She pat the holster on her hip. "It's a good thing I was armed, unlike someone I know."
"Hey, hey, I managed without."
The loud music was back on and a comfortable air quickly returned to the patrons. Someone came up to the trio and laid a tray on the table near them. "Azera said it's on the house," he told them before returning to his group. They saw her through a space between partying people, serving drinks and performing bartender tricks as if nothing had ever happened. She met their gazes and held up a glass of her own concoction to them, mouthing a 'nice work'. Trish and Lady toasted her back, but Dante watched. Her skin was flawless, unmarked from the fight that had taken place less than an hour before. No bruising, no blood, nothing. Only the smiling face of a drunken woman. And the way she'd lifted up the man before... He had to have been at least two hundred pounds, and she barely did it with a single arm. It didn't sit right with the demon slayer.
He stood up. "I'll be right back," he told his co-workers. Dante set down his beer and started weaving his way through the crowd. Something told him this chick wasn't normal.
