Title:  Demons Don't Feel, but Humans do

Chapter title: Demon's Regrets
By:  Metis
E-mail  m_metis@hotmail.com

Rating:  PG-13
Comments:  Hmm…not many comments.  As to why the marionettes have so much

 powers—they don't.  I described them as acting as 'petulant children'.  In a sense,

the only reason they are so powerful is because they act in packs and inspire such

fear.  At least, that's what I think…

*  Some elements have been changed  *

*Chapter 3—Frailty*

She was infected.  Dante shook his head in an action that was unlike him.  He should have known it would happen.  Being in their trade, and dealing with the kind of people they dealt with, it had only been a matter of time before something of the sort happened.  But still, it had happened to Trish. 

Gliding silently towards his 'bed', Dante sat upon its edge and pulled out a thick, dusty old book.  It's binding was frail and torn, looking like it would fall and break at any given time.  A slight smile crossed Dante's stoic features and he gingerly pulled open the book, eyes alighting on the first page.  However, he had no sooner read through the first paragraph, that Trish burst through the door…without knocking.

Dante raised curious eyes, silvery tresses falling into his face as he did so.  Trish was still dressed in only a flimsy towel, surprising since he had left her in the bathroom for more than thirty minutes--not to mention that she wasn't the type to walk into his bedroom unannounced.  The half demon also noted something else was out of place—Trish wasn't wearing her pendant. 

Leisurely, Dante picked himself off his bed, careful to place the archaic book hidden away beneath the confines of his mattress.  He had no sooner risen off his elbows, however, that Trish took an inhumane leap beside him.  Dante narrowed his eyes.

"What's wrong, Dante?" she asked, nails curling painfully against the skin of his wrist. 

Trying to shake her off, and finding it difficult, Dante growled for her to let him go.  "Why should I?" she asked then, stretching so that her back arched seductively and her breasts seemed larger than they were.  Despite himself, Dante let his gaze travel apprehensively over her body.  Though a demon, Dante was also a man, and that part of him was unwilling to look away so hastily. 

"Trish," Dante began, finally wrenching his eyes away from her luscious breasts, "why are you in here?"

Trish seemed hurt at the question, but flashed a dangerous smile just the same, "Company."

About to complain, Dante was silenced by an unexpected kiss from Trish.  He had longed for that…He hated to admit it, but ever since that moment when he had rescued her from the marionettes and they had shared a kiss, he had wanted to touch her lips all over again.  But why now?  Why hadn't she responded to him earlier—in the bath, or even before that, when he had first kissed her…?

Oh, who cared?  Dante felt Trish's body mold heatedly into his, legs astride on his abdomen—arms pinning him roughly against the headboard.  He wanted to touch her…caress her, but she was holding him so tightly he could scarcely move.  The demon in him was telling Dante to stop, yet the man had already been miserably enslaved by the promise of fulfilled pleasure…

Slowly, Trish's lips left Dante's and cruised further down his jaw…to his neck…and then back up to his earlobe.  "Breathe," she murmured amusedly, blowing into his ear, quite aware of the fact that Dante was holding his breath. 

"Dante, do you want me?"

Letting his eyes flutter lazily open, Dante glanced at Trish oddly.  Disappointed, she asked again. 

"Dante, do you want me?"

Torn between losing himself in pleasure and answering, the young demon felt himself nod.  Apparently, Trish wanted a verbal answer, because no sooner had he nodded that she, for the third time, asked, "Dante, do you want me?"

Realization seemed to suddenly dawn on Dante; opening wide eyes, he struggled in Trish's grasp and tore her imbedded fingers from his wrist. 

"Get dressed," he ordered, aware that she was liable to shrug off the towel she had been wearing. 

"No!" came the rebellious reply, coupled with an eerie growl. 

No?  Dante approached Trish and ignored the drawling smile on her lips.  Towering above her, he raised up his palm and made to strike her.  He saw the fear flashing in the girl's eyes despite the smirk decorating her pouty mouth. 

"Trish," he called soothingly, keeping his eyes locked onto hers. 

( * * * )

A/N:     I understand there may be some confusion regarding this chapter-especially with the "Do you Love me," sequence.  Well, according to the bible, Jesus asks Peter whether he loves him 3 times.  In the small snippet here, Trish does the same with Dante, only he notices the implications and realizes it is a demon making mockery of it.  I hope this doesn't offend anyone.