Chapter 1 - Lucky Streak

It was only late September, and it'd been snowing. Dante guessed that was what happened whenever you traveled up north though. The sign above the gate read 'Black Wing Creek', and it was covered in the white color of the snow that had been falling, and while only a dusting, it was enough to cover the entire top of the wooden thing. It'd been a long while since he'd seen it. He only wondered if it would get bad while he was here or not.

His boots kicked up a little of the white stuff as he walked through the front gates.

A woman was leaning on a fence surrounding a rodeo with a sleeveless white and gray vest on and a cowboy hat gracing her head. Her cowboy boots were planted with one on the fence, one on the ground, and the heavy duty gloves she wore were across the fences top with her sleeved arms, as she wore a white undershirt beneath her vest. Her red tendrils picked up in the breeze, pulled back into a ponytail except for the front two sides, and she called out, "It's gonna throw you!"

She was watching one of her wranglers trying to break a wild horse, and it was bucking like crazy. "It's gonna throw–," she stopped in mid sentence, cringing as the man hit the dirt hard, "you." With a shake of her head, she finished. "Told ya so."

Following the event, she pushed herself up and smacked the arm of a man who was sitting on top of the fence near her, "Jack, you owe me ten bucks now, dude."

Jack smirked and went to hand her his money. She chuckled and then heard something and looked back, watching as she took the money from her friend without glancing at him. Jack turned as well when he heard the noise that was made. They'd both caught sight of a guy looking around the arena the horses were in, and she lifted a brow. Jack asked what she'd been thinking, "Who's that City Slicker?"

Smirking, the woman told him, "Don't know, maybe another guy who thinks he can stand up to a bucking bronco. Keep them going, Jack. I'll be back."

"No problem, bosslady," Jack replied and he pushed himself down from the fence and into the rodeo to help the other wranglers.

Approaching the man whom she'd thought was a bit older from a distance because of his white hair, she could see that he was actually a lot younger, perhaps even around her age, and she looked his clothing over. Long red trench coat, leather even, black shirt beneath it, a pair of gloves that were missing the index and thumb finger coverings, a pair of long leather pants, also black, with red pockets from what she could see, and a pair of leather boots, the woman made a sigh that she didn't allow to be heard. Not only was he a city slicker, but he also appeared to be a punk. Time would tell though. Still, she did admit, she liked his belt, a large buckle of a silver skull. Now that was pretty sweet.

"Howdy, stranger," she said as she got closer to him to get her attention, pulling off her leather gloves. The man looked over at her and raised his brows, then he unabashedly looked her over. All things considered, she didn't feel too offended by it, after all, she'd just checked him out to an extent, and she held out her hand in greeting. "Can I help you with something?"

Dante looked back up at the woman's face, her emerald green eyes, and the hair he could see hanging from the hat she wore that was damned near the same color as his coat, though darker, a blood color, and he thought to himself that he'd have to thank Lady for sending him here later. She was worth the trip if only to be able to look at her for a minute or two. Reaching out and taking her hand, he replied, "Yeah, maybe. I was actually looking for a job. Would ya happen to know who I could ask about that?"

The woman pulled her hand away from his and lifted her hand as she replied, "Probably me. I'm Regan Davison, I run this little get up. And you are?"

Dante stared at her quietly for a second, then he pursed his lips slightly, "I'm Lucky."

Regan blinked her green eyes at him in a bit of confusion, "Pardon me? Lucky?" She wasn't sure she'd heard him right.

"Yep, I'm a lucky bastard. I was hoping I wouldn't have to come up with an excuse to talk to you more than one of those guys, but you can call me Dante if that works better for ya."

Dante was smirking at her arrogantly. Regan's face remained flat. She wasn't entirely sure what to think about a man who'd just throw out a line like that to someone he barely even knew, not that she hadn't heard similar pick up lines to that before. She had to admit though, that one probably took the cake. She couldn't recall any other more original one than that. Finally she just smiled and told him, "I think I'd prefer to call ya Slick, city slicker, and apparently I'd be right. So, Dante, you're looking for a job, huh?"

Dante continued that cocky smirk and he lifted his hands up in indifference, "Why the hell not? And if it's workin' for you, that's even better. After all, I don't know too many guys who answer to a good lookin' babe like yourself. It'd give me something to be happy about."

Regan scoffed, giving him a look that said she thought he was either stupid or full of shit, if not both. "Is that so? Tryin' to be lucky and happy, are ya?"

"Oh yeah," Dante drew out, a smirk still plastered across his lips that was making it hard for Regan not to at least smirk in amusement at him. But she forced herself not to, after all, the guy seemed to be arrogant enough as it was, he didn't need any help in that department.

Regan folded her arms across her chest and tilted her head at him as if she were sizing him up, "Have you ever been on a ranch, before, city boy?"

"Nah, I'm wingin' this shit. I can learn as I go. As long as I get a decent paycheck."

"Well, the pay's enough to keep food on the table, but the work's enough to keep you from being able to eat it because of the broken back you're gonna get. I'm not interested in boys who're wet behind the ear, and you already know where the exit is, so why don't you just go find it again."

Regan had turned around to walk back to the fence after she finished her statement. "Damn, that was harsh," Dante muttered behind her. "Yet such a nice view to soften the blow," he added as he watched her ass while she left. Regan hadn't heard him either, he knew that for a fact, otherwise she might've tried to sic some of these wranglers on him to have him hog tied. Still, it didn't bother Dante any. He knew why he was there, and while he was a little perturbed over the fact that the guy Lady had contact him, Nathan Morrison, hadn't given him too much information when he'd arrived and had even hung up on him for the most part, he was also confident in the fact that he knew exactly what he was doing here.

He'd been wandering around for a while now, just checking shit out, and he hadn't really noticed one damned thing out of place, making him question this whole theory of Nathan Morrison's about the place being full of cultists. Even still, it was part of the job, so he'd checked it out anyway, and now he was just going to walk into the fucking place and act like he owned it. After all, what better way to draw out a demon or even a demon worshiper than by acting like you have more arrogance than they do.

Dante was all set when it came to that, as it wasn't really even an act on his part.

Regan sighed at the thought of a city slicker who naively believed he could learn this kind of thing just by watching as he went along, and she hoisted herself back up onto the fence and called out, "Hey Jack, did you get that shipment in to Ted today?"

Jack looked up and he nodded his head, giving her a high thumbs up, "It's in the kitchen," he called back to her, and she held her own hand up to show him that she'd heard him, then jumped back off of the fence, her brows raising when she heard a voice from behind her.

"Wouldn't be chewing tobacco would it? Cause I hate that shit, and you might not be able to keep me around if it is."

Two guys sitting on the fence looked back at Dante with narrowed brows, one of them spitting onto the ground near him, a wad of the substance he'd just spoken of. Dante squeezed one of his eyes shut. Disgusting habit, he thought to himself. Regan turned and looked at him, her face one of disbelief. "I thought I told you to beat it, Slick."

"On the contrary," Dante started, "you did say to leave, but you told me you weren't interested in boys who were wet behind the ear, which I'm not, so saying for me to beat it didn't really apply to me, now did it?"

Regan started shaking her head in disbelief. This guy wasn't serious, was he? "Oh my God, I don't believe this. Do you really wanna be thrown out? Or am I the lucky one?" Far be it for her to be a complete bitch to the guy, she thought to herself, but he was starting to really get under her skin.

Or so she thought. Dante hadn't even really gotten started yet.

Dante smiled at her, "You are lucky," he replied, "I'm here now. Besides, you said you really need to tame that horse, and your men apparently keep getting their asses handed to them. Let me take a shot at it."

Regan, and the two men on the fence, all just stared at Dante as if he'd completely lost his mind. Neither of them could figure out what he was smoking, and seeing this look on their faces, Dante rolled his eyes, "What? You act like it's impossible."

"For you it would be, son," the older man sitting on the fence told him. "You could get killed just by moving around that horse in the wrong way. Ya better listen to the lady here, she knows what she's talking about."

Okay, Dante thought, the guys weren't threatening like he'd hoped they would. To be completely honest, he was thinking that if they were all some kind of cultists here, or anyone at all was, they would have become violent with him by now and pretty much told him they were going to kick his ass for bothering Regan so much. But these guys had almost seemed as if they just wanted to warn him, even in a friendly manner, no matter how much bullshit he might've just thrown at them. The other one even added in a more friendly fashion, "Hell, if the kid wants to have a ride on Fargo, I say let him. Always did wanna see a city slicker come up in here and get his ass busted."

With a soft sigh, Regan turned her head to the side, glancing off into the rodeo at the workers there. They were going to get a lot of money for having Fargo tamed, and Regan needed the money pretty damned badly, it was close to meaning the life of her ranch here. But that was the reason why she wasn't just going to let this Dante guy waltz up to him and try to tame him. Dante could tell she still wasn't convinced, not that he was desperately trying to ride the horse, just that he was trying to piss off anyone he could and see what they were really made of. As he watched her, she started speaking, "Ya know, Marcus, that's exactly the reason why I'm not going to let him ride Fargo, if he falls off of him, and gets hurt, do you know the kind of legal shit storm he could put us through?"

Marcus shrugged, "Do whatcha do with all the new kids."

"He's not a new kid, Marcus," she looked up at him with narrowed brows, though she was smiling. Apparently whatever he'd just suggested had amused her slightly.

Dante was curious now, "And what do you do with the new kids?"

Looking back over at him, her green eyes meeting his blue ones, she suddenly smirked, "We put 'em on Hellraiser."

Dante's brows narrowed. "What's Hellraiser."

"The bull," the other older guy smirked.

"A mechanical bull," Regan added, "he's taught many a person that they can't just walk up to a ranch and think they can sit on the back of a horse and make it behave. After all, you're right, no one's been able to stay on his back yet, Fargo's not a pushover, he's a really good animal. Just stubborn as hell, and no matter how far we've gotten, we've had to go farther, hence his name."

Fargo, Dante thought, and the name made him smirk. But he wanted to know something else at the moment. "As stubborn as you?" Dante asked. "Have you tried him yet?"

Regan shook her head, "Not yet, I don't typically train the horses, I don't have the time to. Kind of like now, I don't have time to show you the ropes."

Dante sighed, looking into the rodeo, then he came up with an idea and smiled, "If I can ride Hellraiser the first time without getting thrown off for, what is it, eight seconds, and prove that I'm not wet behind the ears, will you let me find a job?"

Regan's brows narrowed, but she was still slightly smiling, as if she couldn't get over the fact that the guy was definitely insistent in a 'I'm no fucking quitter' kind of way. The still unnamed man sitting on the fence said, "That sounds like a damned good idea to me. Let him try it out, Regan, what's it gonna hurt? Boy'll get thrown easily, you know that. Besides, he's pushy, I respect that."

Regan finally started grinning, then she looked at Dante and lifted her brows in question. Dante kept his stance. Sounded like fun to him anyway. When Regan noticed he wasn't going to back down, she just shook her head and said, "Bill, Marcus, get him dressed up."

"Yes ma'am," the two replied and ran off to do as she'd said.

Once they were gone, Regan walked over to Dante and she tilted her head to the side, "You're crazy, Slick, but I guess that's a good thing. Still, what the hell makes you think you can just," she shook her head, trying to figure out the words, but Dante seemed to know what she was going to say anyway.

"Because I'm that damned good," he replied, "like I said, we're both lucky. So, where's the bull at?"

Snorting, Regan threw her hands up and to the side, "Right this way, Mr. Dante."

Bill and Marcus had set the bull up near some of the stables where they kept a track, and had put the protective cushions around it incase Dante was thrown in the worst way. One of the guys was already riding the thing by the time Regan and Dante had gotten there, testing it out to make sure nothing was wrong with it because, as Regan explained, they hadn't used Hellraiser in a long time. But the bull seemed to be in proper working condition, and as the worker was thrown into the cushions, the people around had all cheered.

Regan opened the gates to the track and she let Dante in, saying to him, "You've got one shot. After that, I'm getting back to work and you can get back to your own day. Got it?"

"No problem, bosslady," Dante told her, using the term as if he already knew for a fact that he wasn't going to be thrown, and he walked right into the track and up to the bull while the guys all watched him.

The man standing beside it told Dante as he approached the machine, "Let me take your coat, we don't need something getting stuck in the gears."

"No problem," Dante replied, removing his jacket, the shirt he wore underneath sporting sleeves that were rolled up to his elbows with creases sewn into the sides and around the torso. He also wore straps around his shoulders where his guns Ebony and Ivory were holstered. Seeing the guns, the man grinned, then he nodded his head at Dante in approval. "Those are pretty damned nice," he told the white haired city slicker, "you any good with 'em?"

"Of fucking course," Dante smirked, "let's get this show on the road." He moved and climbed onto the bull without question. Once he was in place, he bobbed his head at the guy, "Just make sure nothing happens to my coat."

"No problem buddy," the guy replied, moving away from the bull and to the controls. Regan was standing there, leaning against the wall, and when her worker walked over with his coat, she told him, "If he manages to stay on it on the easy mode for eight seconds, I want you to up the levels all the way to the top. I'm not letting this guy get away with beginner mode and then thinking he's some kind of slick shit, Jack."

"Yes ma'am, I agree." Jack told her, then he called out to Dante as the guys were all yelling at him different things, some of them telling Dante to 'get 'ir done', and others asking him if he were ready for a ride, "You ready, Slick!?"

"Anytime, partner," Dante replied.

"Alright, here we go," Jack said, then he started the bull up.

Slowly the machine started bucking. Dante felt the waves moving up through him as the machine started going to work, and he took the handles, just waiting for things to really get started, which it didn't take long to do. Eight seconds passed on the easy mode, and Jack upped the levels.

Things started really getting interesting then. The bull bucked and threw it's back not at all dissimilar to a real bull, twisting and turning, and Dante let a loud holler, letting go of the handles with one hand. The bull continued to get more and more irritated as the levels were taken up again after another eight seconds, and by this time, most everyone was cheering for the new kid who seemed to be glued to the mechanical bulls back.

"Alright, last level," Jack said, putting the bull up on the highest setting.

"We'll see how long he manages," Regan told Jack and lifted her brow. Then they both watched Dante for the next eight seconds on the bull.

Dante was riding it like he'd been doing it for a very, very, very long time. He seemed to be having a damned good time as well, and everyone had become so intent on the scene that they didn't notice anything else. Even Jack didn't realize that more than eight seconds had passed on his stop watch, and he muttered, "Holy shit," while Dante's body was jerked back but still didn't go anywhere. Instead, Dante only allowed the momentum to throw the back of his body up while he held onto the handle with his hand, his feet landing on the seat of the machine, and he actually stood up. A loud yell was heard coming from him, the crowd of workers was going crazy, and when the bull bucked again, Dante let the new momentum throw him off of it, which was enough to propel him into the air where he flipped before he came down and landed, causing everyone to go nuts with their cheers.

Regan just stared with her jaw agape. Who was this guy?

Dante grinned at them, an arrogant, cocky grin to be sure, as he walked toward them, and that's when Jack blinked and stopped the clock. He looked at it and went wide eyed. "Regan, that's a new record, he stayed on it for at least 18 seconds."

Regan blinked over the words and she suddenly grabbed the stop watch from Jack and looked at it herself. Because Jack had been so enthralled with the show, the watch had actually gone up to 25 seconds, but Regan knew just like Jack did that at least the last latter half had been Dante jumping from the bull and landing, then beginning to walk over to him. Jack just grinned and he yelled to the crowd, "We got a new record, it's 18 seconds!"

Dante looked at the stop watch, then he smirked at Regan as the people went wild, and asked her, "So, do you believe we're both lucky yet, or what?"

Regan stared at him blankly, unable to help it. Then she parted her lips, her eyes narrowing a bit, "And you've never been to a ranch before?"

"Not once in my whole damned life, thanks," he told Jack his gratitude as the wrangler handed him his coat. He started putting it back on and looked at Regan, a white brow lifting.

Regan couldn't help herself. She continued to stare at him incredulously. "I'll be damned," She shook her head, looking to the side in thought over the whole thing. Then she chuckled, "I'll be goddamned." Finally looking at Dante, she added, "Well, I guess a deal's a deal. Consider yourself employed."

She held out her hand. Dante just smirked, then took her hand and shook it. All things considered, he had to admit that whole bull riding thing was fun. He needed to get one of those to put in his shop, he considered, and briefly wondered how long Lady would be able to stay on it. After all, the girl had skills. It'd be interesting to find out. Maybe if she ever moseyed on up here, he'd find out.

This was definitely turning out to be an interesting job so far.