Chapter Two

The Devil's Luck

Checkmate

9:15 PM

The cool neon glow of the red and yellow chess pieces lit up the otherwise dark shop front. The name of the club was illuminated in a font reminiscent of fire. Dante gave a small whistle, looking up at the building that was so much larger than his shop. Of course, the Checkmate was also a night club. It didn't seem to be the typical seedy dive bar, at least from what Dante could see. The entire building stretched up several floors, with only the ground floor seeming to be the actual club. Damn. Nice digs for a club, Dante thought. He looked up as he watched Lori open the door, allowing him and Mercy to enter.

The inside of the club was rather brightly lit, and the sounds of rock music and people talking filled the room. It was moderately crowded on the dance floor, at a few tables, and at the bar itself. There weren't enough people there to put Dante off, but there were enough to convince him the place was popular. The floor was covered in a black and white checkerboard tile pattern until one looked over to the dance floor. The dance floor itself was illuminated with many colored lights that pulsed at varying speeds. Dante wasn't really the type to hit the dance floor. He'd often just sit where he was and let the beautiful women come to him. The Checkmate was even more impressive from the inside. It was a step below an exclusive club with a velvet rope and a step above a cheap dive.

Behind the counter Dante could see the door to the kitchen as well as several casks and several hundred bottles of various sorts of alcohols, many of them with names he couldn't hope to pronounce. He took a seat at an empty spot at the bar, looking around to his sides. There was one empty seat to his right. Perfect, he thought before patting the seat and looking to Mercy, giving her a devilish wink. He said nothing, only letting his lips draw into a playful smirk.

Mercy made eye contact with the half-devil. She hesitated for a moment before wandering up to the seat and sitting down, leaning on the bar. She was tilted slightly away from him, as if making it known that she wasn't willing to get within contact distance. The position of the seats didn't allow her to get much further away. Brace yourself, Mercy. This bloke is gonna flirt with you at every opportunity. Stay cool, she reminded herself. She glanced up to the bar as she saw Lori walking by in the back. Man, I could use a drink. She gave a loud whistle, causing Lori to look up and head over.

"You rang, Merce?" the bartender asked, grabbing a glass from a cabinet above.

"Aye, mate. Think you could do me with some tequila?" Mercy replied, pulling out a calculator and putting in some figures, apparently completely ignoring Dante.

Lori nodded and grabbed a bottle from the shelf, pouring a glass of it on ice and sliding it to Mercy with a lemon wedge affixed on the lip. "There ya go. I'll put it on yer tab." The Scot snorted to herself, leaning on a wall and rolling her eyes. Your tab is three hundred bucks, Merce. You better pay me back one of these days. She muttered to herself inaudibly before grabbing a bottle of single malt scotch and pouring herself a glass, downing it in nearly one gulp.

Mercy slowly sipped her tequila, giving a slight shudder at the drink's burn in her throat. "Gah..." she groaned, "I'll never get used to that." She leaned on the bar and took another sip, glancing over to Dante. "Oi, mate. Thanks for earlier."

Dante kept wearing his roguish grin as he listened to Mercy, turning toward her and subtly sliding his hand towards her shoulder. "Not a problem at all, babe." Keep it smooth, Dante. Time to crank up the charm. He gave her a wider smirk, letting a slightly pointed fang peek out from between his lips. "How could I resist a job working with a good-lookin' lady who needed help?" He suddenly stopped moving his hand.

Before he could get his hand within distance, his stomach had let out a sudden and rather loud rumble that could be heard over the background noise. He pulled his hand back to himself, placing it on his stomach. Note to self. Get some chow before you try to get some action. He looked up to see Mercy staring at him, eyes slightly widened and an awkward expression on her face. "Oh. Right. I guess I really am starving."

"I'll say," Mercy quipped dryly, giving another whistle to call Lori over before taking another sip of her tequila. Honestly, wanker. Are you really that desperate to root me? She rolled her eyes, letting out an exasperated sigh.

Lori approached the two, polishing off the remnants of a bottle of Laphroaig. "What are ya after, lad?" she asked in Dante's direction, already heating up her pizza stone.

"I'll take a large pizza. Classic style crust, prosciutto, garlic potatoes and peppers. No olives." If she can do that, this place is gonna be at the top of my list. "And can you get me a pint with it?" This was a bar, after all. Why go to a bar if one wasn't going to get a drink?

The black woman nodded to Dante, getting out a pizza crust and other items to add to it. "Gotcha. It'll be ready in fifteen." She put the pie in the oven, shutting it and letting it cook. "I figured you'd be after pizza. You seem like the type. Just like the Chief, she thought. Except she always wants the meats with pineapple and Guinness. She hummed to herself as the pizza cooked, looking over to watch Dante and Mercy.

Dante's eyes drifted over to Mercy, who was still looking at him like a large cancerous growth just grew out of his forehead. He tried to downplay the awkwardness of the situation. He could barely keep his mind off how hungry he was. He could smell the pizza cooking all the way out behind the bar, and didn't even notice one of the group of men nearby occasionally glancing at him and staring at Mercy.

Mercy, on the other hand, eyed the leering male suspiciously when she felt eyes on her. Can I not go anywhere without some bloke wantin' to get in my pants? She turned her eyes away from the stranger, trying to give him a nonverbal but clear rejection. She attempted to focus on her tequila and not on the desperate congregation of lounge lizards. Unconsciously, she inched a bit closer to Dante. Even he seemed to have more respect for her than they did.

Dante's attention was drawn immediately by Lori, who had just set the fresh pizza down in front of him, along with a fresh pint of beer. "Have at it, hot shot. It's on me." She gave him a smirk and a nod, which he gave in return. She went back to her work, refilling Mercy's glass of tequila and heading back to the kitchen.

Dante took a moment to check the pizza. Everything was there, just the way he had ordered it. Ah man. I don't know if it's just because I'm famished, but this pizza smells so good right now. He carefully picked up a slice, lifting it to his lips. Hesitating for a moment, he slowly inhaled and took in the pizza's aroma before biting into the slice. As he let the pie's flavor sink in, his lips bent into a slight grin and he took another, larger bite. Before long he had consumed the entire slice, and was working on his second. It, too, was gone in minutes. The next few slices went the same way, followed by a sip of the lager sitting on the bar in front of him.

Mercy's eyes shifted a bit as she watched Dante eating his dinner. A devious little smirk appeared on her thin lips before she reached out to grab a slice of Dante's pizza. As she did so, however, a hand rested on top of hers and prevented it from moving.

"Whoa. Not so fast, babe." Dante deftly pulled her hand up, sliding it back toward her and leaning in close with a playful grin. He noticed Mercy eyeing the slice of pizza like a puppy waiting for table scraps. "Sorry. It's too good to share."

Mercy raised an eyebrow, having just seen Dante polish off seven slices of a large pizza on his own. "I'm amazed you can eat that much of it by yourself as it is." She maneuvered around a bit, trying to get past Dante with her quick reflexes and seize the remaining slice. Dante pinned her other hand down with his free one, leaning even closer to her.

"It's just one of my many talents," he replied, his playful smirk becoming a bit more cocky as he slowly pulled Mercy away from the last slice. It's at least one of the better parts of being a demon. I can live off this stuff and never gain a pound. This is the life. He chuckled to himself before making eye contact with Mercy. "...among other things." He punctuated his slight boast by leaning forward and giving Mercy a quick peck on the cheek. When her eyes widened and she stared at him for a moment, he gave her a playful wink.

What the hell just happened? Mercy had been rendered completely speechless for a lightly shoved back against Dante, turning around toward the pizza slice. "Besides. You eat that last slice and you won't have room for dessert. You know, a strawberry sundae?" She responded to him with a smirk, not breaking eye contact. This is it, she thought. This'll get him for sure.

Dante's grin only widened before he chuckled at her warning. "You don't know me that well, do you, babe?" He slid his hand onto her arm, carefully pulling her back up on the stool and turning her to face him. "Tell you what. Order what you want and I'll put it on my tab for tonight."

Mercy leaned back, looking as if she was deep in thought. "You've got a deal, mate." She tried, and failed miserably, to stifle the rapidly forming blush on her cheeks. Letting out another whistle, she called Lori over.

Dante reached back over toward his pizza slice, but his hand touched only air. He peered over to the plate with the pizza crumbs on it, and saw only that; the last slice of pizza was gone. Hey, what the hell! Who the fuck stole my pizza! He raised his head with a look of annoyance, glancing at Lori. "Did you see who swiped that last slice?"

Lori, gathering several spices for use in a chili bowl, shrugged and shook her head. "Nope. Sorry mate. They musta been fast." She set a few nachos in a bowl before pulling a fresh pot of chili off the stove and pouring it in the bowl over the chips.

Mercy also glanced around, looking for someone carrying a pizza slice with prosciutto and garlic potatoes. "They just...oy," she grunted, turning to Dante with a slightly apologetic look. "Ah, I'm sorry mate. It's my fault." She raised her head as Lori passed over the chili con carne. "It was just one slice anyway. Not like you were missin' out."

Dante grumbled to himself in the manner of a child who had been denied a candy bar. "But damn it, it was my pizza slice." He hung his head slightly and took a sip of his beer. Whoever swiped it, I owe an ass kicking. He glanced around for a moment before noticing the small band of rather dim-looking young men nearby and snorting to himself before turning back around. "Hey Lori, I think I'm about ready for that sundae now."

Lori was already pulling ice cream and strawberries from the refrigerator. "Ya seem like the last guy who'd eat strawberry sundaes in a bloody nightclub," she observed, loading up a sundae glass with strawberries, ice cream, more strawberries and some whipped cream and sliding it over to Dante with a small spoon. "Have at it, mate. It's on me."

Dante gave Lori a short nod. "Thanks, man." He ate the dessert rather slowly, sighing to himself as he let his nerves unwind. Even the sundaes here are good. It's never gonna get old. He smirked to himself before biting through a strawberry. When he thought no one was looking, that smirk soon turned into a soft smile. He had always loved strawberry sundaes, even since his childhood. Every time he had a particularly good one, it would always take his mind to those days when he was together with his brother and his mother was still alive.

Sparda Manor

Fifteen Years Ago

"Dante, Vergil, it's time to come inside!"

The twins continued to wrestle on the lawn, with Vergil easily gaining the upper hand on his brother. He had always been quicker than Dante, who loved to show off when they roughhoused as they frequently did. Vergil had pinned Dante down under him, grinning. "Gotcha now! Bet you're sorry you showed off!"

Dante grunted under his brother's hold, sulking a little with a pout on his face. "Hey! Not fair! You always get me!" He maneuvered his hands around under Vergil before pulling one arm up and putting it around Vergil's neck. His other hand came up, snaking out from under Vergil's torso.

Vergil seemed unaware of what Dante was trying to do, and kept grinning at him with a look of superiority. "You're never gonna beat me. I'm the big brother, I always win."

"Boys, come inside or you'll miss dinner!"

Dante's arm became tighter around Vergil's neck, and he dug the knuckles of his other hands into his brother's scalp. "Not this time!" He drilled his knuckles into Vergil's head a few times, messing up his hair. "And I'm the little brother, so Mom loves me more!"

Vergil let out a yelp as his brother continued to noogie him. "Hey! That's cheap! I hate you Dante!" he cried out as he flailed his arms in an attempt to get away from Dante, who by this point had flipped him over so he was the one pinning Vergil down. "And you're a mama's boy anyway."

"Am not!" Dante countered, still holding Vergil in a headlock. He licked his fingertip, aiming it toward Vergil's ear.

"Dante Sparda Redgrave! Did you hear me!"

Dante jumped at the sound of his mother shouting his name. He dropped Vergil on the lawn and looked up to see Eva standing there, her hand on her hip and a rather stern look on her face.

"Both of you get inside. Now." It was clear from the tone in her voice that Eva hated repeating orders. She stood at the front door, leaning on the door with her arms crossed and waiting.

Dante pulled himself up and went running for the door, Vergil right behind. "Last one there's a rotten egg!" he yelled at his brother as the two barreled toward the door, nearly knocking Eva over.

Eva sighed softly as the boys ran by, looking up and watching them as they went in to go get cleaned up for dinner. In the rare moment of quiescence, she smiled solemnly and looked up, looking as though her mind was heavy with thought. She turned her gaze to one of several portraits on the mantelpiece. The picture depicted Sparda and herself in an embrace, his arms around her from behind, and she was visibly pregnant. Internally she fought back tears, distracted by the ruckus she heard upstairs.

Dante and Vergil came thundering down the stairs, racing to the table and sitting down. By the time they got there, Eva was already setting their meals in front of them. Dante devoured everything like it was going to rot away right there on the plate. Vergil had a steadier, neater pace, but ate just as much, if not more. He peered over the table at Dante, who was scarfing down more slices of pizza than an eight year old child should be able to eat. "Pizza again?" he asked, rolling his eyes.

Dante swallowed a mouthful of pizza and grinned at his brother. "Why not? It's not like we need those nasty vegetables you're eating." He stopped speaking long enough to finish off a slice.

Vergil grunted at Dante before eating a bit more of his own dinner, which had multiple varieties of said so-called nasty vegetables. Vergil couldn't stand all that cheese and sauce Dante loved to pile on his pizzas. He despised pizza in general and much preferred to eat for the sake of his health. The vegetables Eva made were actually rather palatable; she managed not to overcook them.

Before long, both twins had cleaned their plates. Dante picked up his plate and left the table, putting it in the sink. Vergil did the same, but was distracted by a rather appetizing smell coming from the kitchen. He followed the smell, turning the corner just in time to see Eva pulling a small tray out of the oven. The tray was filled with six large and fluffy-looking blueberry muffins. Already on the counter, there was a small tulip glass filled with strawberries and vanilla ice cream. Vergil continued to watch, unseen, as Eva prepared the desserts. After a moment, he darted away to the dining room, grabbing Dante's wrist. "Hey Dante!" he whispered before guiding Dante to the kitchen.

Dante peered around the corner, his jaw dropping when he saw the strawberry sundae. His slacked jaw came back up into a wide grin and he nearly shouted. "Hey Mo-"

"Shh!" Vergil ordered, his hand clamped over Dante's mouth as he pulled him away. "We gotta be quiet or she's notice us. I think she wants it to be a surprise." He held Dante still, watching Eva intently as she let the muffins cool. "I think she's done," he said to Dante in a hushed tone, tugging on his arm. "Let's get back to the dining room before she catches us." He moved rather slowly at first, Dante behind, until they snuck away from the kitchen and back to the dining room, where they both sat down in their original spots.

Dante could not hide his anticipation. He was fidgeting in his seat, his feet twirling slightly under the table as a dead giveaway to his excitement, a habit that carried from his early childhood. Oh man...I love strawberry sundaes! One of these days when I grow up I'm gonna have pizza and strawberry sundaes every single day! He had the same ecstatic look on his face as before when he heard Eva coming into the dining room, plate of muffins in one hand and strawberry sundae in the other.

"I bet you boys have been waiting for this all day," she said with a smile as she set the plate of muffins in front of Vergil. The sundae didn't even make it onto the table before Dante had grabbed it in both hands, immediately beginning to eat it.

Vergil took a muffin from the plate, eating it slowly so as to let the flavor last as long as possible. He reached up with a fingertip and brushed some of his hair away from his face, finishing the first muffin and working on the second.

Dante shoveled spoonful after spoonful of strawberry sundae into his mouth, pausing to munch on a particularly large, juicy strawberry. He licked the whipped cream and syrup off his cheek and looked up to see Eva bringing in something else they didn't catch sight of: A chocolate cake decorated with eight small candles, four red and four blue. Dante grinned even wider, looking up at Eva with a bit of ice cream dribbling off his chin. "Wow! Cool!" he exclaimed, getting Vergil's attention.

Vergil dropped the muffin he was holding mid-bite, his eyes going wide at the cake. "It's chocolate, just like I wanted!"

"Just like you wanted? I was the one who wanted the chocolate!" Dante declared, trying to push Vergil aside.

"I want the chocolate!" Vergil replied, trying to make a grab at the cake, which Eva shielded with her arms.

"Boys, boys. Don't fight. You both get the chocolate," Eva assured them with a slightly stern tone in her voice. "But first, you have to make a wish and blow out the candles." She set down the cake in the center of the table as the twins huddled up close.

Vergil took a deep breath, holding it for a moment and closing his eyes. I know I'll probably never get to see my Dad. But I wish to get really strong like him one day. I wanna be the strongest demon in the whole world.

Dante leaned in close, also taking a breath and holding it for a moment as he thought of his wish. I wish for...I wish for...I wish for loads and loads of strawberry sundaes! He grinned to himself for a moment, still holding his breath.

At the same time, both twins blew as hard as they could on the candles, blowing each of them out. The resulting pressure from their breaths caused a bit of icing to fly off the cake, splattering onto one another's faces and sending them both into fits of laughter. Eva watched both of them, a smile creeping onto her lips. "Dante...Vergil...happy birthday."

The twins didn't seem to hear her, as they both immediately began devouring their cake in addition to their other desserts.

Dante soon finished his cake, and was now working on the remains of his prized sundae. He licked the chocolate off his lips before consuming the last strawberry in the glass. He looked over toward Eva, grinning through the mess on his face. "Thanks, Mom." His tone of voice was rather soft as he picked up a napkin and wiped the mess from his face before pulling himself up and walking over to Eva, sliding his arms around her waist, and pulling her into a firm but gentle embrace, which she returned. "I love you."

"I love you too, Dante..."

Checkmate

Present Day

10:30 PM

Dante slowly finished the last bits of ice cream in his sundae glass, gently picking up the last strawberry with a spoon and biting into it. Along with the amulet on his neck, his favorite dessert was the last connection left to his childhood, to a more innocent time in his life when he was not alone. Even now, though he had a few friends and acquaintances here and there, he still felt like he was on his own at the end of the day. He enjoyed the taste of this particular sundae, but nothing would ever match the ones his mother would make for him. He slowly chewed on the last, juicy bits of the fruit.

"Hey, babe! Why don't ya ditch that nobody? Seems like he's more into that ice cream than he is into you!" The voice from a table away shattered Dante's serene recollection like a bullet to the head. He swallowed the half-chewed strawberry, turning his head to glare at the offender.

He saw a young man who looked to be in his early twenties, only one among several others at the same table. He was rather tanned, and he wore a shirt with short sleeves which bore the muscles of his arms. The collar was opened a bit and its sides raised. His hair was styled in a slightly spiked crew cut, swept up in the front and with its tips frosted. His eyes were obscured by a pair of dark sunglasses. His attention was focused entirely on Mercy, as if Dante wasn't there.

Mercy had finally turned around to confront the one accosting her with a glare even chillier than the one she gave Dante when she first met him. She was equally as unamused as Dante himself. "Because you're nothing special. I mean, look at your mates over there. They all look just like you. That, and you lot are a bunch of try-hard tools." She leaned over and finished off the last of her tequila before crossing her arms in some effort to blow off the apparent leader of the group of lecherous males.

One of the group seemed to be whispering something to the leader, who pulled himself up from his seat and walked over to Mercy with an unctuous leer on his face. "You've got lotsa competition for this. You oughtta feel lucky I've had my eyes on you. And you'd drop me for that ice cream lovin' loser?" He reached out for Mercy's hand and grabbed it, pulling her a bit closer. "By the way, the name's Brett. Remember it, 'cause you'll be screamin' it later tonight." He flashed her a lecherous grin.

Mercy only stood there for a moment before whipping her arm out of the young man's grip and taking a step back, her signature glacial demeanor on full display. I don't think so, wanker. She unconsciously inched closer to Dante, her hands at her sides with her fists clenched. She resisted the urge to bristle up when Dante rested his hand on her shoulder.

Dante turned his attention to Brett, the one trying to be his rival. "Hah, I'm a loser? Says the guy who's tryin' way too hard," he replied, glaring at Brett with a look of disgust. This guy has gotta be kidding me. He subtly took a step forward, apparently trying to put himself between Mercy and Brett. He broke his glare for a moment by glancing over to Mercy, who was trying to put even more distance between herself and the other male.

Brett did not back off from Dante and Mercy. Rather, he returned Dante's eye contact through the lenses of his oversized, dark sunglasses. "'Course I try. It works every time. I can get any piece of ass I want. What about you?" he asked, leaning back and crossing his arms as he awaited Dante's answer. He looked back to Mercy, giving her a wink that was visible through his sunglasses thanks to the lights above. "Offer's still open, babe."

"...Are you deaf, wanker?" Mercy's look of revulsion now matched Dante's, Brett's actions grinding away at her patience. Her eyes grew narrower as she followed Brett's eyes to their focus on her chest. "I thought so. Let me spell it out for ya then, mate. I know sign language." She paused to raise her free hand, displaying her middle finger in Brett's direction. "FUCK OFF, DOUCHEBAG." She kept her hand raised for a moment before bringing the same hand to her face, shaking her head in frustration. I really, really hope this dipstick gets the message already, she thought.

Brett's demeanor seemed to change slightly toward Mercy. "Whatever," he grunted, slicking his heavily-gelled hair back. "You're a waste of time anyway. Just some dime-a-dozen skank who don't know the best when she sees it." He grabbed hold of Mercy's tequila and downed the remainder of it, possibly as an affront to her in response to her rejection. With a haughty sneer, he lightly slammed the glass back on the counter.

"More like her standards aren't that low," Dante responded in Mercy's place. He briefly glanced at her, as if to garner her approval of him coming to her defense. She had sat back down, turning her head away from them. Apparently, she was tired of dealing with Brett's effrontery and wanted nothing further to do with him. He turned his attention back to Brett, whose face bore the same sneer. "You don't look too happy, bud."

"Who asked you?" Brett asked indignantly, giving Dante an aggressive glare. He took a step forward, his posture carrying a manner of hostility. He clenched one hand into a fist, tilting his head to the side.

Dante's stance, on the other hand, was much more cavalier. He leaned back, drawing his shoulders into a shrug before sliding his hands into the pockets of his coat. "Just statin' fact. What's up? Pissed that your lame excuse for a pickup didn't work this time?" Despite his initial disgust, Dante maintained a hint of a laid-back smirk just on the corners of his lips as he saw Brett's demeanor become even more combative. Wow. This guy's even more pathetic than I thought. If he wants a fight, I'll give it to him.

Brett's lips subtly parted, revealing his clenched teeth for a moment. He pulled himself up from his aggressive stance, his sneer returning to his face. "Nah, I'm not that pissed at all. It worked on your mom last night," he answered back with a self-assured grin. His retort to Dante garnered a few hoots and cheers from his companions. He tilted his head again, awaiting Dante's response.

The smirk on Dante's lips suddenly faded from sight and he stood up straight. He clenched his fists at his sides for a moment, narrowing his eyes in a fierce glare directed toward Brett. That's it! Game over! I'll put up with him ripping on me, but cheap shots at my mom? I'm drawing the fucking line. Dante's anger was close to the breaking point. He lunged forward without warning, clutching his hand around the front of Brett's raised shirt collar and lifting him up off his feet. "I've had enough of your shit for tonight. I'm warning you now, you're pissing me off. I am the last person in the world you wanna piss off. Besides..." His voice became much lower, so that only Brett could hear him. "...my mom's dead, asshole." He lifted Brett up a bit more, bringing him so close that he could feel Dante's breath against his face.

The group of men nearby jeered, and the occasional shout of "Fight!" could be heard among them. Brett subtly moved his arm toward the bar, still looking at Dante. He didn't look afraid at all, seeming as if he was still trying to keep up a face of bravado. He spoke with a rather cloying tone in his voice. "Aww, I'm so sorry. You have my condolences," he said as he wrapped his hand around the neck of a nearby vodka bottle.

CRASH. Fragments of glass fell away from Dante's head, small spatters of blood on a few of them. Brett continued to hold the neck of the broken bottle, swinging it toward Dante's face as if to slash at him.

Without missing a beat, Dante swatted the broken glass away with his free hand. The blow of the bottle being broken over his head did nothing aside from making him even more angry. The hand on Brett's collar didn't even budge. Rather, it, along with his other hand, slid up toward's Brett's neck, where Dante wrapped his fingers around Brett's throat. He brought Brett even closer to his eye level. "Normally I don't kill humans. That doesn't mean I'm afraid to beat your pathetic ass." With this, he tossed Brett in the direction of the table where his friends were sitting.

Brett landed on the solid oak table with enough force to smash it into several pieces. Assorted glasses and bottles were also smashed, spilling their contents on the floor as well as on the few young men without the reflexes to get away in time. A few nearby patrons yelled, some of them running out the door, at the ensuing fight. Brett, shaking off the momentary daze, opened his eyes to see that the area was suddenly brighter. Looking over a few feet away, he could see his sunglasses laying on the floor amid the pile of wood and rubble from the broken table, chairs and glasses. He looked himself over, noticing that his shirt was now stained with spilled drinks. He pulled himself up, looking back at his companions, who were backing away from him for some reason. Growling, he pulled his stained shirt off, revealing his heavily muscled torso, and tossed it behind him, not caring where it landed.

One of the young men at the table steadily backed away, a look of mixed fear and concern on his face. "B-Brett...you okay, bro? You look like the fuckin' devil or somethin'." He and the others continued to back away at an increasing pace.

Dante focused on Brett a bit more, catching a glimpse of his face. His gelled hair began to turn a deep black, and the irises and sclerae of his eyes were completely this sight, Dante's familiar smirk returned. So he's a demon after all. This is gonna be more fun than I thought it would be. He continued to watch Brett transform, moving himself aside as he saw many more patrons flocking to the door.

Brett's attention turned to the one who spoke to him, grabbing him by the throat with a single, long-fingered pale hand. "A human male...how disgusting. Your scent makes my stomach turn." Ignoring the human's pleas for mercy, he placed his other hand on the top of his victim's head. With a flick of both his wrists, he snapped the young man's neck, severing his spine with a sickening crack and killing him instantly. He dropped the corpse to the floor, looking around before focusing on Mercy who, by that point, was on her feet with a pistol in her hand. "Women, on the other hand...I love women." A strange, sick-looking grin appeared on his pale lips as he kept his attention on her. "Especially those who put up a fight. The energy they give off when fighting me is so much more satisfying than those who are easy." He seemed not to notice Dante still standing there as he slowly approached Mercy. "If I had known you found my human form displeasing, I could have taken on one you find far more attractive. However...given the circumstances, it will be much more pleasing to simply take what I want by force." He began to move toward Mercy, whose hand tightened on her gun. The mere mention of forcing himself on her appeared to trigger something. She visibly trembled, stepping back as Brett closed the distance between them. Before he could take another step, he felt the sting of something suddenly thrusting into his back and tearing through his body. He made a sharp, choked yelp and looked down, seeing the point of a sword coming out of his stomach.

Dante tightened his grip on Rebellion and lifted it up over his head, bringing Brett with it. He briefly glanced to Mercy, noting the look of slight fear written on her face. He returned her look with a reassuring wink before turning his attention back to the demon on his sword. "Funny that you say that, bud. I love women too. Especially if they're easy on the eyes. But..." He clutched Rebellion's grip, pulling his shoulders back. "...I hate bastards like you who have no respect for the ladies." His voice intoned a level of cockiness as he slammed Rebellion down, throwing Brett onto the tile floor and splitting several tiles with the sword's tip. Immediately after this, he took a step over to Brett, placed his foot on the other demon's back and quickly pulled Rebellion away, leaving its blade covered in blood and Brett with a deep gash going through his torso.

Brett's hand twitched as he grabbed hold of a nearby bar stool, pulling himself up to his feet and fixing his gaze on Dante. "...You...you're not human," he choked as his wound healed enough to keep him alive. Placing a hand on his stomach, he ran at Dante to counterattack.

Dante held Rebellion by his right side, demon energy sparking around it. "No shit, Sherlock," he replied, suddenly swinging the sword up and out, sending an energy blast toward Brett. The blast clipped him in the side, knocking him off his feet. However, some of the energy broke off and changed direction, slamming into a light fixture on the ceiling and blowing it out, broken glass littering the floor below. At the sound of the glass shattering, Dante winced. Yikes, property damage. I hate when that happens.

Brett let out a low growl as he struggled to his feet. Dante's attack had severely wounded him, leaving his right arm shattered and hanging uselessly from his shoulder. "Who...the hell are you?" he asked, trembling so hard it looked as though he would fall over any moment.

"Me? Ah, I'm just the resident devil hunter around here. The name's Dante, pleased to meet ya," Dante replied with a confident grin, drawing Ebony and idly twirling it in his free hand.

Brett would have gone pale if he were not already white. "D-Dante?" he stammered, his eyes widening with a look of fear. "The...The Son of Sparda?" His smug air up until now cracked and completely fell away, much like the broken sunglasses on the floor nearby.

Dante stopped twirling Ebony when he heard the question of his identity, briefly rolling his eyes with an inaudible sigh. Unfortunately. Dante never thought highly of his father from what he remembered of him. He disappeared over twenty years ago, leaving Eva alone to raise his sons. Dante would probably never forgive Sparda for disappearing. Turning his head to Brett, he raised Rebellion again and grunted a reply to the question. "Yeah, sure. Whatever it is they're calling me these days."

Mercy's eyes snapped open as she heard Dante confirm his identity. The Son of Sparda? He's the...Nah, he can't be! She focused on the fight intently, trying not to blink, else she might miss a crucial sight. She still kept her pistol at the ready on the off chance that Brett would try to make another move toward her.

Brett slid back on his heel, looking for something, anything to defend himself with. At last he caught sight of a broken table leg on the floor. In desperation he reached down with his good arm and grabbed the table leg, holding onto it so tightly he nearly cracked it. He let out a strangled battle cry, charging toward Dante with the table leg raised, intending to strike his opponent with it.

Barely missing a beat, Dante slid out of the way long before the table leg came down upon him. Raising Rebellion, he cleaved the table leg in half with barely a flick of his wrist. The cut-off piece flew toward a nearby set of wall shelves stocked with drinks, slamming into them and causing them to collapse, taking their entire stock with them in a cascade of broken glass and spilled booze. He then swung the blade around to line it up with Brett's torso. Lunging forward, he brought Rebellion into the core of Brett's torso with a mighty thrust. Before he could fall, Dante pulled Rebellion back and thrusted again, repeating the motions with blinding speed until, with one last powerful thrust, he sent Brett's body flying in the direction of the bar. He slid over the fine-grained ebony counter top before slamming into a set of large oak barrels and bursting them into chunks of wood. The contents flooded onto the floor, leaving a large puddle of finely-aged Scotch whisky several inches deep behind the bar.

Mercy's eyes nearly bulged out of her head at the sight. Her jaw hung slack and a look of mild shock appeared on her face. "...D-Dante..." she choked out after a moment or so of speechlessness, "Lori...is gonna kill you."

Dante finally took the time to survey the undoubtedly outrageous amount of property damage. He rested a hand on the back of his neck, a feeling of impending doom slightly creeping in the back of his mind. Oh shit...this is not gonna end well. All he could now think about was the massive debt he was likely going to owe.

The loud ruckus finally got Lori's attention, drawing her out from the kitchen to see a puddle on the floor. She emerged from the wall with a bottle of whisky in her hand, only to drop it as the scene came into full view.

Her boots were soaked in the pool of spilled alcohol. At her feet, she saw piles of broken glass, and nearby, a demon's corpse. She looked up over the bar, seeing that it was empty except for Dante and Mercy, and that many of the tables and chairs were smashed to pieces. Tiles were cracked, windows were broken, and a light above was dangling loose. Her jaw slowly fell open, and her fist clenched tighter at her side. Turning her head again, she finally caught sight of the destroyed barrels. Oh god...no...not that...Not the Laphroaig! The color drained from her face as the sight sank in and the smell of scotch filled the air. She felt a bit lightheaded, and one of her eyes subtly twitched as a look of abject horror was written on her face. Tears began to scarcely fill her eyes.

"GAAAAAAAAAAH!"

Dante slowly turned his head to look back, seeing a livid Lori standing there, arms limp at her sides, staring blankly at the remains of the barrels and Brett's corpse laying among the rubble. Taking note of the horrified look on her face and the faint red aura occasionally flaring up around her, all he could do was gulp. Merce's right...Lori is going to kill me. On the up side, I had an awesome last meal. Finally, he mustered the courage to speak. "Heh heh..." he managed to chuckle weakly. "...Oops."

The sound of Dante's voice made Lori's nerves nearly snap. "You...YOU BLOODY IDIOT! You demolished my pub, ran out all my customers, and flooded my back floor, and all you can say is 'Oops'?" She paused to take a breath, glancing slowly over to the broken barrels, her tone changing to one of mixed anger and grief. "And worse...you destroyed two barrels of the best whisky money can buy! Do you know how expensive one cask of Laphroaig scotch is! You destroyed three! That's over five thousand dollars I've gotta replace!" Once again, Lori paused, trying desperately to gather her fractured nerves as the tears started pouring from her eyes. "And that's not even countin' the rest of my stock! I know I had at least five hundred in the bottles on this shelf you busted...and repairin' this place is gonna cost me another three grand." Placing a hand on the top of the bar, she pushed herself up and vaulted over it, sticking the landing and walking over toward Dante. "Give me one good reason not to throttle you right now." To say that Lori was fuming was a massive understatement. She had a look of murder in her eyes as she gave Dante a death glare.

Even Dante couldn't believe it, but he was honestly shaking. This is it, I'm gonna die. She's gonna strangle me...or worse, she's gonna cut off my pizza and sundaes for life! Dante seemed to shrink slightly as he imagined the possible retribution Lori would deal to him. A part of him, after meeting with that glare in her eyes, wanted her to go ahead and turn him into a pile of ashes so he could disappear from view. Anything but cutting his sundaes off. Finally, he managed to speak. "I-I'll pay you off. I've got a mission right now and I can get you paid back once I get my paycheck." He gulped again, loosening his collar.

Lori managed to calm herself down a bit, listening to Dante's offer with a sliver of consideration. After all, if she did throttle him, she would miss the chance to be reimbursed for the damage to her business. That, and if she was left with the cost of repairs coming out of her pockets, it would likely be ages before she could restore the supply of her prized whisky. Eh, I'd better let the bastard live. Merce seems like she fancies him already, and if he keeps comin' back here for pizzas, I'll get a bit of the cost back. But I ain't tellin' him that. After a bit of thought, she leaned on the bar and tilted her head, reaching up and carefully tightening the hair band that secured her dreadlocked hair back. She finally spoke, looking up at Dante. "Alright, I'll accept your offer. But I expect ya to hold up your end. I want ten grand back and not one cent less."

Dante's jaw dropped as he heard the amount of his debt. "Ten grand!" he cried out with disbelief. That's at least half my usual pay for jobs like this! He brought a palm to his face, slightly burying his head in his hand. "Shit..." I just had to offer to pay her back. Damn me and my sundae habit.

"And not one cent less," Lori confirmed, pausing to grab one bottle that had not been destroyed. She leaned in closer to Dante, making eye contact with him with a menacing stare. "Or else." The beginnings of a smirk twitched at the the corners of her lips. She pulled herself up and coughed, glancing between Mercy and Dante. "So, why didn't Merce handle this? She can usually get rid of most demons fast enough not to destroy half my pub."

Mercy spoke before Dante could say a word. "He was an incubus. Even if I wanted to fight him, it would've been nearly impossible. Usually, women can't fight incubi. They're able to reel us in with a seduction spell and make us completely vulnerable." Even looking at the maimed corpse behind the bar caused her to visibly shudder. She had been somewhat shaken for some reason since Brett made his threat to rape her.

Dante rested against the bar, sighing to himself and glancing up to Mercy. He noticed her visible tremors and abnormally reserved demeanor. "Hey Merce," With some hesitation, he moved a bit closer to her. "You gonna be alright? You look a little freaked out." He looked toward her with visible concern, waiting for her response.

"Y-yeah mate, I'm alright," Mercy replied, trying to calm herself down now that she was safe. "Thanks, by the way." She gave him a brief nod of thanks before pulling on her coat. Damn it, Dante, you just had to go and destroy the shelves. I really, really need some tequila right now.

Dante held his hands out, shrugging his shoulders nonchalantly. "No need to thank me, babe. It's just what I do." He playfully winked at her in a halfhearted attempt to lighten the mood before very briefly averting his eyes. Though I should probably apologize for completely fucking up a perfectly good dinner date. His eyes slowly wandered to Brett's fresh corpse as he muttered under his breath. "Thanks a lot." His voice, though lowered, was soaked in sarcasm. Thanks a ton, asshole. I can't ever get a break, can I? Finally, he spoke up again after a moment of dead silence. "So, uh...what are we gonna do with Mister Toolshed over there?" he asked, jerking a thumb at the dead devil.

Lori glanced in the same direction that Dante pointed, raising an eyebrow. "That's odd. Usually dead demons just burn up into nothin'." She knelt down close to the corpse, nudging it with her empty bottle. Indeed, it was solid and still warm.

"Unless it's a cambion," Mercy pointed out, peering over the bar. "Cambions are half-incubus or succubus, half-human. Usually, cambions have the powers of their demon parent to some degree. But they're more vulnerable than full demons." She kneeled in for a closer look. "Apparently, this one got his prey by bein' a total wanker. Some girls are attracted to that bullshit." She gave the body a hefty kick in the ribs. "Either that or he might not be completely dead." She raised a hand when she saw Dante drawing Ebony and Ivory. "Hold it, mate. Only one surefire way of doin' this." She gave a knowing glance to Lori before looking to Dante. "Oi, you might wanna stand back."

Dante backed away from them, leaning on the wall and crossing his arms. "That does kinda make sense, now that you mention it," he remarked, observing Lori and Mercy as they dragged the incubus' cadaver out the nearby side door, which led out into the alley next door. He left through the front door, coming around the side of the Checkmate.

Lori laid the cadaver flat on the concrete, standing on one side of it while Mercy stood on the other. She gave Mercy a short nod, upon which Mercy drew her katana and held it out in front of her. A small but visible glow could be seen in Lori's hand. It suddenly erupted into a large, bright flame up the length of her arm. Mercy slowly passed the katana through the flames, a strange red glow shining on the edge. Following this, she leaped into the air before swinging the sword down into the corpse. The moment the edge met the cold flesh, flames erupted from the entry point. Within a few seconds, the entire corpse was ablaze. All that remained, when the fire cleared a few minutes later, was a pile of dying embers.

Mercy returned her katana to its sheath without another word. "That's the one downside about this job," she remarked, leaning on the wall. "Cleanup is always a bitch."

Dante, with an impressed expression, whistled and nodded. "Yeah, it's a bitch, but I'll be damned if you two don't do it with style. If this is how you handle a dead demon, I'd hate to be there when you gotta handle a live one."

Lori snorted a response, shrugging her broad shoulders. "Hey, I'm no demon hunter. I'm just the pub owner. Who happens to shoot fireballs." The ghost of a nonchalant smirk appeared on her lips as she blew some remaining smoke off her fingertips and leaned on the wall.

Mercy let out a slight yawn, drawing her katana from its sheath and using her coat to wipe the ash marks from the blade before re-sheathing it. She turned her head at Dante's comment, hardly showing any emotion. "Demon huntin's a good job. It's damn tough, but you just gotta be tougher." She slid her coat back on, shivering a bit from the cold. "But it's all worth it in the end, see. As long as demons exist in the human world, someone is gonna need somethin' killed. Who're they gonna call?"

"Definitely not the Ghostbusters," Dante answered, stretching his arms and folding them behind his head. "You can't get rid of demons with a vacuum and a backpack." He slowly rolled his neck, brushing some dust off his coat. "Hey Merce, you look a little tired." He looked at Mercy with mild concern, resting his hand on her shoulder. "I'm thinkin' we should call it a night. How about you?" He reached up, running a gloved hand through his hair and scratching his head before heading out toward the street.

"Aye, mate...I think you're right." Mercy replied, stretching her arms. "I haven't slept in two nights. I'm probably gonna head back and go to bed." She averted her gaze and muttered to herself. "Provided my...roommate allows me to sleep." She brought her arms back down from stretching, one of them coming to rest on Dante's back. From how it remained there, Mercy did not seem to be aware of, or to care, that she had just brought Dante into a rather close embrace.

"...Can I join you?"

The voice snapped Mercy out of her fatigue, causing her eyes to come back into focus as she looked up to see her arm around Dante, his arm around her, his face a foot away from hers, and a devilish grin on his lips.

Mercy's jaw fell slack and her eyebrows furrowed in confusion, followed by annoyance. What the hell? How'd he get there? The next expression on her face was a look of acute irritation as she glared at him in response to his question. "I am not in the mood right now, Dante," she groaned in reply, raising a hand to forcefully shove him away.

Dante stepped back from the visibly irritated Australian, raising his hands. Okay, okay. I deserved that. He kept his playful smirk intact, giving a slight chuckle in an attempt to diffuse the tension. "I was just kidding, babe." His look turned a bit more serious. "Hey, I'm sorry about tonight getting ruined."

Mercy shook her head in response, looking up at Dante. "Don't apologize. It's not your fault that guy was an incubus." She took a slow step toward him, making sure they shared eye contact. "If anything, I should thank you for everything you've done tonight. You're not bad at all." She turned to face the street, in the Ave Maria's general direction.

Dante casually raised his hand, making a waving gesture. "It's no problem at all," he replied, followed by a yawn. "Looks like the party's over, babe. Suppose I'll be seein' ya tomorrow." He gave her a lazy wave before heading off straight down the street, hands in his pockets and the chilly night wind billowing through the tail of his long red coat.

Mercy raised her head silently, watching Dante walk off into the night. "Yeah, sure. See ya, mate," she murmured, not caring if he could hear. Gods, that was so close, she thought to herself, the memories of earlier that night coming back to her, especially the threats made by Brett to violate her. For some reason, the very idea still made her skin crawl. She tried to focus her thoughts on the present, still seeing Dante's distant form disappear down the street.

"So you fancy 'im, don't ya?" The sound of Lori's voice interrupted Mercy's thoughts. Lori had a rather coy smirk on her face when Mercy turned to look at her. "It's the real reason I accepted his offer."

Mercy's expression remained stony. "...No. I don't fancy him." She crossed her arms, leaning on the Checkmate's wall for a moment.

Lori turned to look back at Mercy, chuckling to herself. "He's not that bad." She paused for a moment, taking a slow breath. "...I actually did see who took his last pizza." When Mercy looked back at her, she responded with deliberation, underscored with a sigh. "...The Chief."

Mercy brought a hand to her temple and groaned with exasperation. "...That girl again? I swear." Her frustration was punctuated by a fatigued yawn. "Gah, I'm goin' home. I'll deal with her later." She pulled herself from the wall and headed down the nearby street, a sour look on her face.

Lori went into the building across the alley from the Checkmate, heading upstairs and taking off her boots. She grabbed hold of the bottle of whisky by her bed, downing roughly half of it in a single gulp and flopping down on the bed. The bed itself was very large, but it was a disheveled mess, as if she never took the time to make it. The pillow next to her was still a bit disheveled as if someone slept there. Upon seeing it, she chuckled to herself before reaching up and taking her hair out of its sloppy updo. With not a second more hesitation, she flopped back down. It was impossible to tell if she was sleeping or passing out from drunkenness.