Disclaimer: DMC belongs to CAPCOM and all that jazz. Plot's mine. Sorry it took me so long to update this one. Gadget
CHAPTER 4
Camille had left before Dante had even woken up, having locked the door and reset the alarm on her way out. He knew that the woman knowing so much about his life- his door code, his style and where he liked to be touched- was a bad idea. She was an open door to his life and an excellent weakness for another Hunter to exploit. But this was all subconscious knowledge; every last bit of it a piece of his human instincts. The demon in him, the piece of Dante that had the most control, could care less about those instincts. The demon could handle itself just fine. At least that was what the demon told Dante as he padded naked to the bathroom for a hot shower.
It was just another day, the demon told him. Just another same shit different day, both the demon and Dante knew and accepted that. It didn't mean that he had to like it.
His cell phone rang the minute he got out of the shower. He didn't bother to dry off, he didn't even think about it. The wet footprints would be evaporated by the time he got home anyway. So, nude and dripping water all over the place, he walked from the bathroom to grab his phone out of the charger.
"Dante," He said into the mouthpiece. The rule about his cell phone was different, if he gave someone the number that meant they didn't need the password to talk to him.
"Hunter," Devotion's voice intoned.
"Yeah?" He asked a little breathlessly and frustrated. Her voice did things to him; pleasant things. Her voice turned him one, made him hot and made him hard. It was a dangerous reaction to Adam's first wife. Even the demon inside knew that, had warned him of that very fact more than once before.
"Another of my girls was found this morning." She told him. "I tried her home and mobile when I didn't get an answer I sent Bubba over to her place."
He was only half listening, moving about the room searching through his clothes. The phone was balanced between his ear and his shoulder as he pulled on another pair of leather lined denim, went through the motions of putting on his various holsters with quick precision.
"Are you listening Hunter?" Devotion demanded.
"Yeah," He sat on the bed and pulled his boots on over his socks. "Who's the girl?"
"It's Camille." She told him.
The phone fell to the floor with a resonating thud.
(pagebreak)
The glass splintered and then shattered underneath the Phantom as the giant demon spider collided with the skylight. His scream echoed as fell into the atrium and was impaled on the spear of the statue. Dante stepped up to the shattered glass, hands resting idly on the butts of his pistols and looked down.
The Phantom squirmed feebly, its disgusting blood spraying out all over the mosaic floor. Dante licked the blood on his lower lip and Alastor hummed with power on his back. Electricity shot from its hilt in excitement; the demon blade was alive with satisfaction.
"This power..." The Phantom said. "It can't be...Sparda..."
Dante put his guns back in their holsters. "It's not," He said. "I'm his son, Dante."
(pagebreak)
Dante thought about stopping for a coffee but decided against it. His demon heritage could metabolize anything in his system; caffeine included. What was the point in spending three bucks on a coffee when he wouldn't even get a buzz out of it? Demon blood with the ability to neutralize any toxin was great when it came to poisons but shit when he needed a pick-me-up first thing in the morning.
The clock read 3:18pm. Alright, he thought, a pick-me-up first thing in the afternoon. Still coffee would be nice, maybe he'd grab some anyway. Not likely though, the sooner he got to Nevaeh the better. The easier it would be to track whoever had summoned the demon. The bastard had killed Camille that much was obvious now; if Devotion couldn't reach her then it stood to reason that she was another victim. Her soft skin the trophy of some evil demon fuck-head.
Dante's hands tightened on the steering wheel of his Chevy; knuckles turning white. It bent in his hands and he took a steadying breath to help calm down. The fucking demon bastard had gone after Camille, probably moments after she had left his place. The girl hadn't been solely his or his girlfriend, but he had considered her a friend of sorts. Her death made the situation personal; he wasn't going to hold out any more just for extra money.
That sick fucker was going to get something special from Dante. A shot right between the eyes from a specially made bullet of blessed steel and a mix of holy water and silver nitrate in its core. Hell, maybe he'd shoot the fuck head a couple of times; actually, that was his plan.
All that remained of Camille was a lock of dark hair and a lot of blood. Dante balled his fist in front of his mouth; his teeth touching his knuckles which were white. He struggled with his control as the demon part of him itched and bit and clawed at his insides and his senses, begging for release.
Dante pushed it all down, the urge to Devil Trigger, to scream in anger and to slam his fists into everything. To simply destroy all in his path; that sort of thing, simple mindless violence without gain, would not bring the woman back.
But it would make him feel better.