Black Cat
Nine lives
Short days
Long nights
Livin' on the edge
Not afraid to die
Heart beat
Real strong
But not
For long
Better watch your step
Or you're gonna die
~ Black Cat, Janet Jackson


Luce ed Ombra
Chapter Two

Lair of the Black Cat
[By Ultema and Guo]

Forgive the fact that the woman had no spectacular ride. Believe it or not, she had no motorcycle, no car, not even a lowered Honda Civic to call her own. Instead, the mode of transportation to the designated area happened to have been public - a late night bus, empty as could be, taken through the artificially lit streets to a large building. There were several mailboxes, and a number of doorbells, including an intercom at the front door. It was a nice neighborhood at least, but the quarters seemed somewhat cramped, as it was just a fancy apartment complex.

Isabella led the way, despite the rips in her clothing now filled up with the creature she had carried, its form spread across her body like a thin sheet of liquid latex, up a set of winding stairs towards the penthouse suite. Having retrieved her keys from what she shrugged off as her 'date' to the kind old lady downstairs offering home made cookies, the woman rattled them in the door and pushed it open. The darkness that hung within was thick - even the lights outside did not permeate the curtains, and a single candle was lit as a source of light for now. This was her stalking time -- when she felt most alive. The darkness was a second home, and she felt like keeping it that way.

"Well, make yourself at home. If you're hungry or anything, let me know. The bathroom is down the hall and to your right, and please; don't touch anything. If you have a question, just ask." Through a door she vanished, and it creaked shut behind her.

Not looking surprised at any of her living quarters -- it always seemed that the richest were the weirdest; and offering only a glare to the other lady, Dante was friendly, but not at times like these. He couldn't help but laugh to himself quietly when she spouted orders at him, but it made sense ... In some way. Standing still and just taking in the feel of the room as she walked away, he soon turned towards the nearest place to sit, after all, it gets a bit tiring being up all night.

Dante flopped himself down in the nearest chair and leaned back. He debated moving the chair to a place where he could prop his feet up, but he was too lazy to, well ... get lazy. A sigh was let out from the man. He was completely healed now, just as she appeared to be. Not even his clothing seemed torn. His head fell back, and his eyes were almost about to close for a nice nap. Of course, that wouldn't work.

It wasn't long before his client emerged again, seeming to take her own sweet time in whatever it was that she needed to tell him, poor guy. A trip to the kitchen only elicited two thin, elegant glasses to be brought out, before Isabella took a seat opposite of him. Her clothing was changed, something much more -- well okay, maybe not practical, but it was devoid of holes in any case. It looked like maybe the outfit she had worn to work earlier in the day; black and white. Short skirt, long jacket. She was that type, though. The thin glass of strong-scented liquid, most likely some sort of expensive wine, offered towards her guest. The place was filled with shadows, but lacking red orbs. That was one good thing, anyway.

"Let me get straight to the point. I'm sure you know that I'm different from the general populace..."

Boy that was an understatement. Dante lifted his left leg to cross over the other while taking a sip of the wine, he almost trusted her ... or at least trusted his abilities enough now.

".. I wasn't positive.. " Sarcasm, his best friend, "But come on, what do you want from me, already? .. What could be too much for... you .. to handle?" He said that line with a ghost of a grin, and shifted in his seat slightly. Glancing around the room, it seemed a bit odd, even though apparently normal … He couldn't make anything specific out, however.

"Well anyway. I can obviously handle myself against the every day moron, but I've been around for five-hundred years -- " Five-hundred years. Isabella didn't look a day over twenty-five. The Portuguese woman lowered her attention to her glass, and took a sip, before returning her attention to her guest, once more allowing her shoulders to droop. She, too, crossed a leg and rested against the soft cushion behind her back,

"I'm not like you, either, really. I've been stuck in this damn world for five centuries, all because of a couple of problems back when I was..." Er, still alive? Fun way of making that sound. Her voice trailed off for a moment, before rising again on a different portion of the sentence. She didn't feel as though she had to be coy around this one -- this sort of thing was his job.

"At any rate, I'm the kind of person your kind lives to get rid of, after all. I figured you'd be the best person to ask to help me out with this problem -- I'm sick of being here. I've seen so much, and lost so much more... I'm tired of it all -- and I just want it all to end... but it won't. Not until some condition is met ..." Conditions. It was popular for people of the fifteen hundreds to be slain for their connections with curses, possessions or witchcraft, and her history was plagued by it. This wouldn't surface, at least not for now, as he wanted the root of the problem.

"I need an old trinket from back home to help with this. It sounds like a stupid request, I know ... but if it were as easy as I would like it to be, I wouldn't be asking you this right now ... "

Ah yes, demon in the body, Dante had heard it all before... ok, maybe he hadn't, but it wasn't like he was in disbelief -- it all sounded reasonable. Hilariously enough, being hired to kill the one that hired you doesn't usually make much sense, but this was definitely a special case ... Still, some things seemed unanswered,

"That's a lot to ask, but it should be doable, babe, as much as I'd hate to see you go-- He let out an innocent laugh. It didn't seem to him that all was revealed, but he wasn't going to ask questions as long as he didn't need to know.

"I understand; and is there any payment? ... Or just one of those, 'I won't kill you if you help me' deals?" Obviously confident in his own abilities, Dante wasn't truly concerned with that aspect if it even existed. Shifting positions again, he leaned forward towards her, elbows on both of his knees, awaiting her response.

"You can have everything I own; I won't be needing any of this after it's all done, after all ... I have no next of kin to inherit it, so it would only make sense if you were to have it." Isabella replied tactfully. She didn't seem interested in the killing part, at least not with this one. It was most likely because of the fact that she did, indeed, need his help. There wouldn't be a use for a corpse ... especially since he would more than likely taste fairly bad, considering his occupation. True enough, she hadn't let him in on everything, but since when would a demon hunter need to know the details about his prey? Despite her requests, she seemed slightly uneasy about it all.

" And I appreciate this, for what it's worth. "

"Well, you've got yourself a hunter... and, it's my pleasure." Even if she was a demon, he liked her style. Relaxing back in his chair, Dante could only occasionally glanced towards her and made eye contact. He seemed almost concerned with the way that she appeared upset with his comment, perhaps he'd lay off the hard ass comments for now, and just enjoy the wine, and the company which he didn't have to defend himself from. It was quite a feeling.

Isabella offered a to the red clad man adjacent of her, and then her attention swiftly fell to the watch that rested upon her left wrist. The silence was there, all the same, except for perhaps the ticking of the particularly old looking grandfather clock on the far-most right wall. No longer taking care to use dainty little sips from her glass, the last bit of wine was finished off in a single swilling gulp, and the glass placed down lightly on the marble-topped table to her left.

"Ah, I have some 'business' to take care of -- I'll be back in the morning, though. You're welcome to use my room, but if you don't feel -- comfortable ..." The Portuguese female shifted bright green eyes in the general direction of the hunter, then towards the corridor to the room she came from just minutes earlier. " ... You're welcome to stay here in this room. Make yourself comfortable, but -- don't break anything. The security in this suite is -- rather tight."

With this, Isabella lifted herself from the black leather seat squeaking under the weight of the push to move her upwards and stalked towards the coat rack.

A single platinum eyebrow was raised in response to the obviously skilled drinker, and attempted to match, perhaps to show he was strong as well, or perhaps just because he was an asshole, Dante's teeth showed on one side as his mouth took the form of a grin, taking his relatively full glass of wine down in a single breath, only to be followed by slight cough and shaking off, getting back down to business. Taken by surprise with her recent intentions, Dante offered a bit of his amazing sarcastic humor ... with a bit of seriousness in his voice,

"I see how it is. Just feeding the cats?" At least that's how it seemed to him, "Hah, I'm surprised you'd trust anyone alone in your house ... especially one you've just met... one like me." He rose from his chair soon after she had, in order to cut her off at the doorway. "I'll leave you to your business ... but, I trust you'll actually inform me of a few more details later... for all I know, you could be preparing to backstab me ... of course ... I don't mind... " He chuckled slightly, grinning towards her as if waiting for a goodbye kiss or something.

"You, hunter, are the only person I have ever offered an inch of trust to in this life." Isabella whispered, response swift despite the abrupt cutting off of her path, though she reached around him and grasped the furred collar of an expensive-looking black coat from the mahogany stakes of the coat hanger. Tossing the coat around her shoulders as though it were a cloak, she offered a sidelong glance to her houseguest. That smile just read 'kick my ass, please?' all over it. But for now, she'd pass the temptation.

A shift in her weight, rising upon the tips of classy high heels, and a feathery contact of full, cinnamon lips against the side of his face -- not a kiss by any chance, more like the kind of action a cat takes by brushing its head against the newest member of the room, looking to be pet by the outstretched hand.

"If I were planning to backstab you, your spine would be laying where your shadow resides ... now if you will excuse me, I should ... feed the cats..." And with that, she brushed gently aside of him, and continued towards the door, before in a moment's expiration, it closed behind her as she made her exit.

A small 'hmph' was let out from the platinum haired man, and his feet brought him back to the couch he was originally sitting at. Plopping down and relaxing with his feet up, he soon caught a glimpse of something which appeared a bit out of the ordinary... as ordinary as a house owned by a demon, of what kind he was still unsure of. He seemed relatively at ease for staying in the place, too, even with what seemed to be eyes, watching him -- almost encouraging one to leave things alone... didn't stop him though. The shiny area which had attracted him was coming from the grandfather clock. He was up and fiddling with it in no time. .. getting a bit frustrated he debated pulling his sword out and just breaking the damn thing ... but he'd refrain for now.

Tick tock. Tick tock. Tick tock. Well, perhaps all was fairly normal with the clock -- it didn't even have any strange demonic symbols on it, like an upside down pentagram or anything. It was just a cedar grandfather clock, with a steel pendulum and a cute little bird in it. Well, almost completely normal. Shiny things were always something to attract people -- and there was definitely something shiny in there -- but that wasn't the only thing. There were other "shinies" abound. Ones that blinked, ones that moved, and ones that even seemed to cling and crawl up Dante's arm, then disappear in the light. Even a pair of floating red shinies were around his boots, that mewed and pawed at his pants and fooled around with strings.

As a matter of fact, it was almost impossible to see things in this place; it was completely flooded in darkness. There were no lamps, either. Small candles rested on stands here and there, and the blinds were heavy, blocking out all traces of light.

Deciding perhaps it wasn't best to mess with the larger, more noticeable things, Dante moved to the table and began looking through her mail, pawed through the trinkets on her bookcase, accidentally letting a couple fall into his coat pocket (after all, if he was to "inherit" all of this anyways, what's wrong with taking a few shiny things now), basically looking for anything to reveal a bit more about this woman. Soon after taking a bit of whatever reading material there was laying around, he started nosing around her kitchen ... after all, you get hungry fighting ... and you could always learn a thing or two by knowing what a person liked to eat...

Ah, the kitchen. A room full of rather nice scents, from wine to what seemed to be either a cake or something of the like residing under the metal tin on the cabinet closest to the sink on the wall straight ahead. Now this all looked finely placed, and it was obvious that organization was a big part of his client's life. While there was a light bulb in the overhead light, it looked as though the switch hadn't been flipped in years. Candles rested on several areas in here, too. From the stove area tucked behind the refrigerator (which looked like big enough that even he could walk straight into it), to the door where the pantry was located, holding a number of unusual spices, it was all ... normal. A fair amount of Spanish foods, but that was to be expected. Perhaps the curious thing was the pile of books researching cannibalism, right next to the phone and on top of a few bits of literature on making roast an art.

Dante's eyes shifted back and forth between the various sites around him ... it was still hard to get used to being followed around by ... pairs of eyes ... But what else was new? He was all about the weird ones. Without much thought, he followed his stomach to pick up the tin and bring it with him to the huge refrigerator, opening each, respectively. Surely he could find something to sooth that flat, growling, almost anorexic looking stomach of his. All the while being quite cautious, he didn't want to get stuck inside that fridge like it was a meat locker for holding bodies or anything. A quick glance to his right back side, everything seemed to be making noise, yet there wasn't really any distinct sounds -- he also didn't want to get caught by her, had this been some sort of strange, messed up demon test. Slowly he returned his gaze to the open door in front of him as well as the tin he still held in his hand.

The natives were restless, as shadows may very well be, but aside from the occasional brushing of the leg, it seemed that these dark, red-eyed kitties were quite tame. Well, maybe except for the one perched high on the top of the 'meat locker' that barreled down to the floor with a heavy thump, directly aside of the nosing houseguest.

Much to his luck, though, this larger beast had simply alighted beside him, settling on its haunches with its ears pinned back, large black teeth exposed and watching with keen interest, intent on studying every single move. Several more pairs of eyes seemed to materialize out of the darkness, and the cold swirl of air from within the opened door, it seemed to lead back quite a bit farther than the room itself extended. Was that possible? Well ... one would have to consider where they were. It was mostly white frost, dark, with a few normal things right up in front -- but as it went on, it seemed to become black in the distance. Now, how normal is it to have a cavern in your refrigerator?

Having nearly dropped the tin in his hands and shooting just about everything around him when the large.. "cat" jumped down near him, Dante just turned right around and shut the door to the refrigerator, leaning against it like there was something inside about to bite him ... which there probably was. He decided to give up looking for food in this little outpost of hell. Whatever he looked at seemed to just look back at him, only meaner.

No, it was time for sleep now ... Dante was almost sure she'd be back within the night, and he probably shouldn't be asleep for that ... but ... a nap couldn't hurt, that much, anyways. A mind needs to rest, especially when it's being prodded at by just it's surroundings ... Relaxing in bed, sleep on couch -- tough decision, but maybe he could get a nice one of those shadow cat things to cuddle up next to him in bed, if they were warm, anyways ... Either way, how dangerous could her bedroom be?

His boots got quite annoying with their constant clanging against her floor, and soon his feet were able to breath again. Her bedroom was offered to him, so he didn't hesitate to enter... nor shuffle around through a drawer or two, clothing, trinkets, he wondered what she kept; what was actually important to her. Perhaps shed some light on why all these damn shadow things liked her.

Just like all the other rooms, this one was lit by a single set of candles on a large mahogany vanity. Though unlike the ones of modern times, this piece of wood seemed quite antique - as did each of the beautiful oil paintings on the walls that surrounded a bed that looked as though it were the temple of the goddess of a Virgin Wild. It was placed in the middle of the spacious room, a canopy of soft white chiffon hung around placid white sheets, tumbled across the floor in pools that flittered with the light entering through a small crack in the blinds.

Each wooden item, from the posts to the vanity, and the dressers nearby were well cared for and oiled. The paintings were indeed originals, paint chipping away on the edges. A number of those seemed to depict the owner herself, but couldn't have been much younger than a few hundred years old. A group of men and women together, the young woman in the middle looking somewhat forlorn, others by herself with a black kitten in her lap, or just a portrait shot or two.

Drawers were filled with books of Portuguese mythology, diaries filled with yellowed paper where the handwriting remained the same throughout, and newer ones with the same writing as well. Clothing consisted of the usual businesswoman wear, from skirts to slacks, button downs and the occasional tie. Overall, the whole room itself had the nostalgic scent of antique musk.

Making himself comfortable, Dante removed his jacket and overly annoying articles of clothing, remaining however, were his guns; sword placed down beside him. There were some usual things indeed; he was not surprised by some of the more confusing items, such as the paintings … more, intrigued. It did seem as though he should trust her, after all, she thinks she could have killed him if she wanted. So, why not? All possibilities of bluffing put aside -- he was too tired to think of such nonsense.

Grabbing one of the books on Portuguese mythology, he decided to brush up on a few interesting facts he might be able to use. Flipping through pages, sure to stop on any that might be considered useful or relevant, he slowly edged his way to the bed, which he sat on top of. It wasn't long, however, until he was essentially lying on it. Brushing his hair back out of his eyes, even if only for a brief moment, he concentrated on some of tales in the book. It had been a while since he had slept in a woman's bed ... a lot longer than he normally could stand. Yeah, what a womanizer ... or, at least he thought he was.

The books themselves contained yellowed pages - crisp from time and wear, and one page in particular seemed to have been crumbled and worn. "O Vento Da Morte" was the title -- The Wind of Death. The sub caption below read "Rei Da Sombra" -- the Shadow King.  The words were fading from the page, however, making it difficult to see them. Here and there, words were easy to distinguish, and the quick of mind would be able to place them together with little problem.

And there was that small creature he had met at first when his host decided to reveal herself. Clamoring up the silky surface of the cool, satin sheets, the black, red-eyed creature flopped upon the bed and limped its way over towards the prone form of the white-haired man.  Taking the moment to assess its position, the shadowy form flopped its oversized paws down, pressed tightly up against the side of the stranger in its master's bed, chin leaned against the top of its paws. ... Purring.

Being startled a bit, Dante felt his heart beat quicker for a moment when yet another shadow had rubbed against him. This time, however, he somehow did recognize this beast from before. It was almost out of instinct to pet it, but, most likely a wise choice, he refrained from immediately doing so, or stuffing a hand right in its face. Reading a bit more of what seemed to be the layman's encyclopedia to household demons, he made a few assumptions about his lovely, absent hostess. Still, the questions as to how she knew of him, despite him being oh so popular, was beyond him.

Lying back, he didn't retreat to underneath her covers, but his mind was drifting. He must have seemed like a child there; a white-haired grown child in red leather. Either way, he trusted her for the moment ... it could have easily been a mistake on his part, but his involvement with her and this job wasn't going anywhere if he didn't. And so he let his mind drift off a bit... even dozing off, awaiting her return to ask a few more questions -- her book still on his chest, and quite obvious he had gone through a few of her things, including dresser ... but if her cat (?) was comfortable with him ... why wouldn't she be?



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Author's Notes: Yes, yes, more is on the way as usual. I'm lazy proofreading and editing, so it may take a while. :P The story is still continuing production wise, but we're a good deal ahead of the uploading process. XD It's just going to be a whiiiiile before we get to that point, plus it's hard to find fitting songs for the openings of chapters. XD;