Chapter 7 - Snow Date
The entire Ranch had gone into a slight fit. Because of the damages done to parts of it, everyone had been asking questions, but most of the questions had been left unanswered. But the biggest question of all to most of the people had been what happened to Jack, and was Regan okay? But the only person who seemed to know anything was Doc, and he wasn't at liberty to say.
Regan woke up at about one o'clock, much later than she usually did, and blissfully forgot, for the first few moments of her waking time, what had happened the night before. The thing that had brought it back to her, oddly enough, was how good she felt, as in physically, she had no aches or pains, and knowing she'd been in an accident of sorts, so to speak, she knew she should've at least been hurting a little.
It all came crashing back to her, the fighting, Jack, the hooded demons, the man in the snow, and finally, the dagger in her gut, twice. She blinked when she had that thought and put her hands on her stomach as she'd sat up from bed with a sudden jolt. She then pulled her shirt up, which had been changed, a black top which looked a bit too big for her instead of the white one she'd been wearing the night before, but instead of paying any attention to it for the moment, she looked at her stomach. There wasn't a dagger in it, there wasn't a mark anywhere in it, much less two marks, and she became confused. What the fucking hell had happened to her!?
Letting her shirt drop back down across her stomach, she heard a soft snore and she looked back. Laying on her bed across from her was Dante, and as he sawed his logs, Regan watched him a bit blankly. What the hell was he doing in here? Just before she could reach out to wake him and get her answers however, she heard a knock at the door, and looking over at it, she wasn't sure whether or not she should answer it or pretend to still be asleep. She wanted to talk to Dante first, and so she decided to just remain quiet until whoever it was went away, going so far as to lay back down where she'd been, before they could peek into the room at her and make sure she was still asleep.
A few moments passed and, not hearing anything else from the door, she sat back up slowly, peering at the door again and waiting. When she was satisfied that no one was there, she turned quickly and started shaking Dante, "Wake up, Dante!"
Groaning, the devil hunter rolled over and grabbed her, pulling her down with him, "Your boyfriend's not coming home 'til eight, just go back to sleep."
"Dante!" She yelled, unable to believe what he'd just said. She slapped his arm harder than she'd meant to, and he cringed in his sleep and let go of her, slowly opening his icy blue eyes as he woke up.
Seeing a streak of red before his eyes as Regan sat up next to him once his arm was pulled away from her, Dante lifted a brow, then yawned loudly. Lifting his brows and shaking his head, he realized he must've dozed off and then glanced up, seeing Regan staring down at him. She looked a bit mussed, hadn't combed her hair and the blood red mass was hanging somewhat wildly around her shoulders and head, and somehow Dante could appreciate the site of that whenever he got a wake up call, much better than he could appreciate Jack's interruption of his sleep the morning before anyway. "Just like my fantasies," he yawned again, "except you're not grinning over the night of hot sex."
"God!," she rolled her eyes, pushing herself around to face him completely. "Would you be serious for once?"
"It's too damned early to be serious, babe, I just woke up. Try again in a few hours."
Regan was glaring daggers at him. She was so mad she could have smacked him, and she'd never felt that kind of anger before, especially not over the way Dante was acting at the moment, which was only annoying her because she felt the situation was much more serious than that. It was scaring her, and with her fear and confusion and anger combined, tears started trailing down her cheeks. Her words of, "I hate you so much," didn't come out at all like she'd wanted them too, being choked up and embarrassed over her tears when she'd reached up to wipe her eyes. She didn't mean that statement completely, but she was pretty damned upset, and his constant lewd comments and jokes were just getting to her at the moment. In order to try and make up for just telling him she hated him, because she felt badly almost as soon as she'd said it, she started again, "I just want to know what happened last night. All I remember is being stabbed. I should be dead now, shouldn't I?"
"Probably," Dante replied, realizing she was, just as he'd thought she'd be, bent out of shape, unknowing the things that had gone on. When he confirmed it, the tears just started trailing harder as well, and he sat up, reaching to her shoulder, saying, "Hey," but he stopped when she pulled away from him in order to try and stay strong even though she was crying so much now.
Having buried her face in her hands, she gasped and sniffled several times with her tears, and Dante sighed out his breath over it. There was a shitload of things Dante could handle easily, but seeing a woman crying wasn't one of them, especially a woman he knew didn't deserve it. "You need to calm down, Regan, nothing's gonna happen to you."
"Because it already has," she got out on a weak, scratchy voice. Turning her face to look at him finally, she sniffled again before she went on, "What happened to me last night, Dante? I'm tired and if I don't get any answers soon, I feel like I'm going to explode."
Groaning, Dante pushed himself up further and reached out to grab her before she could get any further away from him as every time he kept moving she'd scoot to the side some, and he sat her right beside of himself. He blinked when she leaned in and hugged him, seeming to no longer be fighting with him, but knew why she'd done that. She needed the comfort, and while he didn't always consider himself the best option for giving that kind of thing to people, he also knew that he was her only choice. "Okay, okay," he told her, putting his hand on her back, "just calm down, never did like seein' a woman crying."
"I'm sorry," she whispered, "I'm just so confused."
"So am I. But as for what happened, there's not an easy way of putting it, not that I'm any damned good at that kind of thing anyway, so here goes." Dante cleared his throat and started relating everything of what had happened last night, both to her and around her, and by the time he was done, Regan had sat back, her eyes still light colored and glistening with the tears she'd been crying, a bit red, and she was listening to every word that he spoke intently.
Seemingly without care to herself, the first question Regan asked was, "Jack's going to be okay, isn't he?" And when she did, she proved something to Dante. She didn't care about herself anymore when she found out how hurt her friend had become, she only cared what had happened to her him. It relieved Dante to a point, as he'd considered what Arias had said, Democrities' blood being in her veins, and he'd questioned whether or not she'd wake up the same person, yet another reason he'd fallen asleep in the same room with her. He didn't want her waking up and going off on a rampage on someone. Without mentioning that to her however, Dante gave her a nod of his head, explaining that Jack's father had been taking care of him, put him in his room with an IV hooked up to him, and when he'd said that, Regan closed her eyes and sighed in relief. "Good," she told him, "I feel better now."
"About being part demon?"
"No," she groaned, "only about him. How is it I'm part demon anyway? Who was the man who stabbed me?"
"Just an asshole with a lot of time on his hands apparently, but it changed you somehow." Dante then narrowed his brows, remembering something. He reached into his trench coat, having slept in his clothing. Reaching into his pocket, he pulled out Nathan's journal and handed it to her. "This was in Nathan's house. I've got no damned patience for reading these things, so I figured I'd let you go through it. Besides, I was too damned tired to read it last night anyway after all the shit that went on." Besides, when he'd seen Nathan's hair, he thought they were related somehow, and decided maybe it would be best all around if she were the one to read it, not to mention the fact that, as he figured it, she was probably better at researching those types of things like that anyway, kinda like Lady, which he didn't do well himself. He got bored too easily, and found it a tedious task he'd rather not have to spend the time on.
Regan took the journal slowly and she looked it over, asking Dante, "Do you think it might tell us something about why everything's happening?"
"Probably," Dante sighed, sitting back against the pillows he'd been sleeping on before closing his eyes. He still felt a little bit groggy from just waking up.
Regan looked at him as he did so, at how relaxed he seemed to be, and oddly enough, his casual attitude seemed to help relax her somehow, as if there really wasn't anything to worry about. After all, if her situation was really so dire, wouldn't he be freaking out more? He'd saved her life already, and she knew he wouldn't have ever done that if he didn't give a damn whether she lived or not, so she knew he'd probably be a little bit more upset if something deathly really was wrong with her.
Or at least, she hoped so anyway. Devil Hunter, she remembered, and knew she was part one now herself. Did that mean he was going to start distrusting her, treating her like shit? Was there any real way she could tell?
Her green eyes traveled back to his face after she had that thought. Was he going back to sleep? She couldn't tell, but she didn't mind if he did, she was curious about the object she held in her hands now anyway. But she had to ask Dante before she started reading it, "Why did you sleep in here last night?"
"Didn't want you to wake up alone and freak out like you just did," he replied, his eyes still shut, hands folded across his lower chest and upper abdomen.
His answer simply reinsured her belief that he'd wanted her to be okay and that she probably shouldn't be worrying so much right then, also told her that maybe he wasn't just here to mistrust her, however that may be. But then again, he might just not be saying anything about it.
Turning her head, and noticing her shirt again before she went to open the book, she decided to ask as well, "What about this shirt?"
"One of Jack's."
"Please don't tell me you changed my clothes."
"Nope," Dante replied, "Doc did. And yes, he knows everything about what happened. I went to drag his ass out of bed at five in the morning when I finally got you and Jack back into the house."
Regan glanced up at Dante, his eyes still closed, and she suddenly smiled. She couldn't help herself. If anything, she owed Dante all that she had right now, having realized that, even if bad things had happened to her, if it weren't for him, she could be much worse off. Jack could be dead and Evelyn could be gone. So deciding to take her good fortune when she got it, deciding to give him a little more credit than to think he might not trust her anymore, or at least, as far as he knew her anyway, and deciding to push her reeling thoughts of her current state of being to the side, she opened the book to the first page, and then narrowed her brows, "Dante, there's some pages missing. You didn't take them, did you?"
He opened one eye, then rolled it upward in an annoyed fashion. Arias, he thought to himself before muttering, "No, but I think I might know who did. Just read it anyway, could still be something in there."
"Okay," she replied on a soft voice, nearly a whisper, and she began to read through the pages slowly. She was interrupted however when a second knock sounded at her door, and, blinking because it had drawn her out of her concentration, she grabbed Dante's trench coat and shoved the thing back into his pocket, causing him to open his eyes and blink at her. "What?" She asked to the look on his face, "I don't want anything to happen to it."
The comment made him smirk a bit before she turned and said, "Come in."
The door swung to when she spoke those words, and Doc appeared along with Evelyn, who ran into the room and jumped onto the bed, grabbing and hugging Regan tightly. Regan forced a smile for the little girls sakes, not feeling much like doing it even though Evelyn was alright and she was glad for it. She just had too much on her mind, and she wanted to get rid of it, felt she'd have to first before she could actually enjoy anything else at all. Otherwise she was just going to be forcing smiles as she was now.
Doc smiled as he walked over to them, nodding his head respectfully at Dante, and then told Regan, "Hope you're feeling okay."
"Yeah, I'm okay," she lied, "just tired and confused is all."
"Well, I can completely understand if what Dante told me is true. Wanted to come by and check up on you though, and Evelyn wanted to see you. I promised her I'd take her out to see the ponies when we're done here. After all, I'd think you'd need your rest if for nothing more than your sanity alone," he gave her a smile, hoping to lighten her mood some.
"Thanks, Doc," Regan forced another smile at him, "I'm sure she'll like that, and I probably will end up staying here for just a little while longer."
Evelyn turned her blue eyes up to Regan, "I've never seen a pony before." Her voice was a quiet whisper as all of her spoken words seemed to be, and she added, "I'm glad you're okay."
Regan didn't have to force her smile that time. She leaned her forehead down against Evelyn's and told her, "Yep, I'm peachy keen. What about you?" She was just glad the child still cared about her, as she'd come to like Evelyn a lot since she'd been here, even though all she seemed to see of the girl was her when she was either scared, upset, running, or worried. Regan wanted to see more of her when she was happy, not sad.
Evelyn glanced at Dante, who still had his eyes shut, then back at Regan again, "Dante showed me his guns last night."
With a snort, looked at Dante who seemed to be ignoring them, and she told Evelyn, "Well, as long as he didn't let you play with them, you know."
"Pfft," they heard from Dante, "I'm not that damned dumb."
Doc chuckled over the comment, then he held out his hand, "Come on, sweety, let's go see the ponies and let Regan rest a little more. That includes you, Dante. She's had a difficult time the past few days and I'm still her doctor. So I want you out of here as soon as the two of you have finished chatting."
"Yeah, I know, I'll leave her alone in a second."
"Okay," Doc replied, taking Evelyn's hand and leading her to the door of the room. "We'll see you later."
"See ya," Regan responded.
"Bye," Evelyn waved out to them cutely, then left the room with Doc.
Once they were gone, Regan looked down, and didn't notice that Dante had opened his eyes and looked at her. Watching her quietly, he wondered to himself where they'd go next, what would happen between them, and he reached into his pocket again and handed her the journal once more, putting it in front of her downward tilted face. She took it without a word, and Dante considered telling her something meaningful in that moment, but somehow, he found himself holding back. He just wanted to stare at her for the time being, while he had the chance to.
Now that he really thought about it, she was damned pretty. If things were a bit different, he might have actually considered seriously pursuing her, whatever the end might've brought to them both. With that thought running through his head, he also knew that had the situation currently been different, he would have thrown out some crass remark, and hell, he still might, but for the moment, while she was quiet and distracted, he just decided to let her read to herself as she seemed to be so intent on doing so he could play to his more superficial side and look her over.
Spitfire, that's what she was. And a redheaded temper to boot. He always did like his women colorful, the timid ones were fun to make blush though, so he guessed it didn't really matter to him, if she was a female, he'd probably find something to at least like about her no matter what her personality entailed. Regan seemed to have a lot of qualities he liked so far though, so he could only honestly wonder what he'd find out about her next.
He considered what she'd been through thus far and how she'd reacted to it, being as new to these types of things as she was. Suddenly, he kind of felt surprised to still actually be there. Well, with her knowing about it anyway. If she'd thrown him out as he was guessing a lot of people would have done when she'd first found out that he was half demon, he would have just snuck around the place until he'd gotten what he needed to done. But she'd allowed him to stay, she'd trusted him, and he had to wonder why. After all, if the roles had been reversed, and he was in her shoes, the moment he heard the bullshit he'd told her he would have grabbed her by the back of the shirt and thrown her out of his place literally. Especially if he'd led the kind of life where demons were only myths as they seemed to be around here, not true or false, just a what if or a 'I'm going on faith here' type of thing if that was your cup of tea.
But then again, he had to consider what she'd seen before that. She didn't have a choice but to believe him. Dante sighed inwardly, then he thought for a moment about Lady. He got the feeling she'd probably get along with Regan, and considering the way things were going, he'd been thinking about calling her even though he'd told her he wouldn't. She'd probably appreciate it though, she was good at solving mysteries, and Dante was grateful for that. It wasn't that Dante couldn't solve them, just that he normally didn't have the patience to.
Dante decided in that moment however that he should probably just leave Regan be and let her read the journal. Pushing himself up, he only told her simply, "I'll be around if you need me."
Regan glanced up at him as he walked to the door, and allowing him to open and shut it without saying another word to him outside of, "Okay," she sighed and turned her eyes back to the page she'd been reading, getting on with it. She only hoped this journal shed a lot more light on the situation than they previously had.
--
6:00. All damned day, and Regan still hadn't come out of her room. Far be it for Dante to intrude on someone's private time like that, but this wasn't a usual circumstance. He knew she'd been reading that journal, and he knew she was also being effected tremendously by the things that had taken place around them. But Dante had been stuck watching Doc trying to entertain Evelyn and take care of her, and then talking with Jack once when he was awake. Jack didn't have a lot to say however, considering how tired and out of it he was. Aside from that, a kid and a gimp guy wasn't exactly the most completely entertaining things to Dante. So he'd gone back to his own room, caught up on his Z's, as if he felt he had to, which he didn't, woke up, wondered about Regan, fell back to sleep for another hour, and then couldn't sleep anymore. He decided at that point in time that his best bet would be to go annoy himself a pretty little redheaded cowgirl.
The thought made him grin.
Besides, if this guy Nathan knew anything, and had written it down in his journal, then chances were that Regan knew about it by now, and Dante wanted to know, so he strolled on up to her room and didn't even knock on the door, somehow getting the feeling that, like any depressed chick, she'd keep silent and turn him away rather than letting him in to talk to him. So turning the doorknob, he did just that.
Regan was sitting at her dresser, Nathan's diary folded up shut before her, laying on the surface, and when the door opened, she glanced up into the mirror and at Dante. Regan lifted her brows and said, "That's a nice knock you've got there, I'd tell ya I could've been naked, but I somehow don't think you'd give a damn."
Okay, so maybe she wasn't as depressed as he'd first thought she'd be. Shrugging, Dante shut the door behind him with his foot, "Nope, just a way of getting me to come back again and again," and instead of asking her if she was okay, thinking she might get a bit quiet on him, he asked, "Did the journal tell you anything?"
Regan scoffed, and she lifted her head from where she'd rested it against her fist, putting her hands down on the dresser, "Yeah, it tells me a shitload."
"About what?"
"About that I'm screwed," she replied, blowing a sigh through her lips and at the same time some of her red hair from her face.
Moving toward the bed, Dante sat on the edge of it, watched her turning to face him in her chair, her look dejected, but not so completely depressed he thought she might like to kill herself. "How are you screwed?"
"Well," she started, lifting a hand, "for starters, Nathan was my brother. That makes Evelyn my niece."
Well, there was a kick in the ass, sorta, Dante thought to himself, though it wasn't completely shocking in the fact that he'd seen what Nathan looked like, and the hair was a dead giveaway. "Well, that still doesn't explain how you're screwed."
"I'm getting to that," she informed him, taking a deep breath and then leaning forward, folding her hands against her stomach. "Apparently, Nathan was the leader of a cult called Democrites that worshiped some kind of demon. He even had a baby for the soul purpose of killing her when she was old enough and the time was right in order to release this demons powers from hell, and then, Nathan fell in love with his daughter over time and changed his mind, tried to straighten up his shit and fly straight."
Dante had heard some dark shit before, but having a baby for the sole purpose of killing it? Now that was completely ridiculous. But Dante never tried to understand the world as a whole or even the choices and decisions of one individual unless it immediately effected himself. He knew there was fucked up shit, and then there was good shit, and it was the good that was worth fighting for. So when Regan told him that, his face remained indifferent, understanding that, unfortunately things like that happened everyday, and all he said to her was, "Seems like a big fucking waste to me."
"Damn straight," she agreed on a muttered voice. "Well, anyway, there's mention of some guy named Arias in the journal who is apparently the son of this demon," she glanced at Dante, "any idea who he might be?"
Dante nodded, "Yeah, the guy who stabbed you."
"Oh," Regan drew out, "then that's who's ass I get to shove my foot into." She rolled her eyes, getting quiet for a moment. Dante just waited, knew she'd continue in a moment, he wasn't in a hurry. After all, he'd waited this long, he could wait a little bit longer. Finally, she did continue. "Well, Arias was looking for something called the Gateway and has been for a while now, which according to Nathan is a human that was fitting to be used as a way to channel some kind of demonic energy into this world to allow a demonic army to rise and take over by infusing the human with the blood of the demonic master, which," she trailed off, looking down and away from Dante, "is apparently me."
"Is that how you're screwed?" Dante asked, making sure he had his facts straight before he made any comments on them.
Regan shook her head, "Only part of it. From what Nathan said, the only way to stop it is to kill the Gateway." She finally looked at Dante, her eyes seeming to be searching his as if she were seriously questioning something about him, perhaps even a little afraid. "Does that mean you have to kill me now in order to stop this?"
Dante scoffed, sitting back, giving her a look, unabashedly letting his eyes move up and down her body. "I don't see no demon army around, sweetheart, and besides, I wouldn't put too much stock into what some cult leader put in his journal. For all you know, there could be a million ways to reverse it."
"Maybe," she replied, glancing down, then she shook her head and stood up, trying to snap herself out of it, "sorry, I'm not usually like this, I just don't feel like myself."
"I wouldn't doubt it, you're part demon now." Dante replied and he stood as well, watching her moving across the room and then back again, pacing.
"Yeah, I'm part demon, and I just know that up until you waltzed onto this ranch, things in my life were pretty much normal. But now demons not only exist, but now I'm sort of one or something, and my ranch is being attacked left and right, I have a niece I didn't know about," she groaned and turned around, looking at him, "I swear I just feel like pulling my hair out."
"I like your hair," he told her, "leave it alone."
"Dante," Regan grumbled, sitting back down, leaning on her elbow again, "don't joke with me right now, I'm not in the mood. I'm not capable of dealing with this. I'm just a rancher for shits sakes, I don't know anything about the kind of life you lead where you apparently have to know how to fight with a sword and kill to survive." Regan took a deep breath, closing her eyes. "I just want to be normal again."
Dante watched her after she stopped talking, just stood there quietly. He knew she probably wanted to be alone again, but he also knew that she needed to get it off of her chest, get her mind off of it, and she wasn't going to do it by just sitting around here all of the time. She needed to unwind, unload, and he got the feeling somehow that he was the only person who could help her do that, considering her current newfound identity and the fact that she was the same as him now.
So finally moving, and walking over to her, he waited until she looked up at him, then he told her, "I know what you need."
"What's that?" She asked him out of sheer curiosity alone.
"You need to get the hell out of here and do something to get your mind off of all this shit. Have some fun."
Regan gave him a look that suggested he was crazy. Shaking her head, she replied, "Have fun? At a time like this?"
"A time like what? There's shit to do around here at the moment, everyone's being uptight, and I'm bored as hell. You must do something to get your mind off of things. So what is it, Regan? Shooting loud mouthed assholes wearing red trench coats?"
Regan could feel a grin threatening to tug at her lips over his words and she struggled as hard as she could to hide it from him. "No," she rolled her eyes, "though you do make it tempting."
Dante had begun smiling at her when she told him that, and he went on, "So what is it then?"
Groaning, Regan sat back in her chair, "Well, I like to ride when things start getting hectic."
"So go riding."
Regan thought about it for a moment. Then she shook her head, standing up, "I can't, Dante."
"Why the hell not?," Dante asked, getting the feeling he knew exactly why, and he wanted to prove her wrong, "Because you feel like you have some kind of responsibility to stay here all the time now that this crap has happened? You know what I say? Fuck that. If I'm feeling like shit, the rest of the world can kiss my ass. You need to get out of here." He then smirked at her devilishly as she turned to look at him. "You need to get a big stallion between your legs."
Regan stared at him a bit blankly. She blinked once, then lifted her finger, "Oh now I know I'm not going to go riding, just so Dante can have a fantasy about me on the back of some animal."
"Yeah, that'd be nice," he said, glancing to the side thoughtfully, "Getty up."
"Good grief," Regan grumbled, walking past him, grabbing her doorknob and turning it. "Why don't you just Getty on up out of here now?"
With a scoff, Dante shrugged, "Fine, but you'll be missin' me when I'm gone. You'll be thinkin'," he walked to the door and then said in a more girly tone of voice, "if only I'd let Dante talk me into riding, we could go into the woods and I could find out what his other sword looks like," he emphasized the word sword, using it as a double meaning for his equipment in his pants.
Regan could've smacked her forehead. "Don't you ever quit?" She asked him, her tone of voice as vexed as it could get, "I could be dying for sure in the next five minutes and I bet the only thing you'd have to say to it would be 'might as well go out with a bang'."
"You know it, sweet cheeks," Dante smirked at her, crossing his own arms over his chest, waiting to see what her next reply would be.
Regan didn't say anything, she just pushed the door all the way open, "Just..." she trailed off, sighing, her mood turning even more black than it had been before.
"Just what? Drag you outta here so we can go get one of your horses and have a little fun?"
"No," Regan pointed out, looking back up at him, "I don't think so. Besides, we? Who said you'd be going along?"
"I do, I figure one of the reasons you don't wanna go anywhere is because you're scared something's going to happen to you. Right?"
He was right. Regan shrugged, reaching up to scratch her nose before risking a glance up to his face. "Maybe," she told him if only to not get his arrogance up. "It's just too risky." After saying that, she peered over at him again and lifted a brow, asking, "Isn't it?"
"No," Dante told her flatly as if he didn't think anything was too risky which, Regan had noticed about him over the past few days, seemed to be the case. He was a ballsy bastard after all and, she knew from what she'd seen, had every right to be. When she hesitated to say anything more, Dante figured that she was considering it, that he was wearing her down in her convictions, so he gave her a smile, "What's it gonna hurt? Let me take ya out on a snow date. You get to be seen with a good looking guy, and I get to pretend I'm gonna get more out of it than we both know you're gonna give. We both win."
The way he'd phrased it made Regan snort, her lips folded down as if she were trying to keep herself from smiling. Finally, she turned as if to leave the room and nodded her head at him, "Alright, but it's not a snow date, just a ride."
"Like I said, I get to pretend." He informed her as he followed in behind her, out of the door, and she shook her head at him with a soft sigh parting her lips. Somehow she got the feeling there was just no talking to this guy, once he'd made his mind up, he'd made his mind up. If he wanted to pretend it was a snow date, then she'd let him. She'd just have to fend off all of his womanizing advances as always. It made her wonder if he didn't pretend everything they'd done was a date or something.
Several moments later, they found themselves out by the stables in the snow where Regan opened the door and she walked inside. She went to the stall that Lucas was normally kept in and reached her hand out to his nose, touching him. As she did, Lucas made a snort at her that she hadn't heard before, but knew it meant he didn't particularly like the person who was touching him.
He didn't recognize her as the same person anymore.
Regan frowned over the realization, her brows wrinkling at the animal, saying, "Lucas, it's me." The horse had pulled his head back and shook it, turning a bit and stepping back. She let her hand fall away from him, and felt a kind of depression she hadn't felt yet, but that she knew was probably coming eventually over this whole mess of things.
"What's wrong?" Dante asked as he stepped up behind her.
"He's not acting like himself. Every time I come into this stable and he sees me, he's usually dying to get out of here. Now he's not. He's acting like I'm a stranger." She sighed, trying to think of a reason for it besides her recent change in species, so to speak, and she said softly, "Maybe it was the activity the other day, it did spook him." Somehow, she couldn't entirely convince herself of that, at least, not as the entire reason Lucas was acting like this now, only part of it. She knew the other par was because she'd changed too, and Lucas was very particular.
"Well find another horse to ride." Dante suggested simply, ready to take a look around.
Even at Dante's persistence of their ride excursion, Regan had completely lost the motivation to do anything of the sort. "I don't even feel like doing this anymore," she muttered and turned to walk away when Dante grabbed her arm and pulled her back, making her gasp and narrow her brows at him as he started looking at the horses kept in the stalls, pulling her in behind him. "Dante," she grumbled out, but didn't fight him, just sighed defeatedly as she let him drag her along. What a stubborn jackass he could be, she thought to herself for a moment.
Though in some way, deep down, she was thanking him immensely.
There was a nice variety of animals about, mostly quarter horses and a few ponies, and Dante continued walking, taking a look at the animals that seemed to either rear back from him a bit or just show some indifference. Then he came to a stop, spying a stall in particular with a nicely sized horse in it, in other words, a very large horse in it, and asked as he pointed, "What about that one?"
In the stall he was eyeing was a black Clydesdale, and Regan lifted her brows at Dante, "Why that one?"
The horse was bobbing its head in a slightly excited fashion, even reached out and seemed to sniff at Dante, blowing on him slightly, hard enough to make his white hair gust back. Seeing this, Regan smirked, then she told him, "I mean, Duke's a good horse, but he doesn't like to be ridden too much, he likes to throw people."
Dante didn't really realize just how big the horse was until he'd gotten up close to it, and he told her, "Perfect, it'll keep me entertained."
"Alright," Regan gave in with a defeated sigh, "We'll ride Duke."
She moved to open the stall, figuring Dante was leading this show mostly, so she'd just give in to what he wanted, well, as far as this went anyway. Grabbing a saddle, she began to get Duke dressed up, and noticed the entire time that he patiently waited where usually he'd move a bit to make it difficult considering his dislike for riding while watching Dante. Pushing the thought from her head though, she finished off and grabbed the reigns. Pulling Duke from the stall, the horse continued to try and turn to Dante as she led him out and once she got him into the snow, Dante noticed the long white fur surrounding its hoofs, "Hey, that's a Budweiser horse."
Regan was just slightly smirking, turning her head to look at him, "He's a Clydesdale, yes, you would know something like that, wouldn't you?"
Dante gave her a look as the horse turned and rubbed its nose against his shoulder, and he replied, "Hell yeah, when I was younger, I wanted to drive that carriage. But then I realized it'd probably be boring, no matter how much beer I got."
"Well, Duke seems to like you, so that's a good thing."
"Yep, we stick together."
Staring, Regan had no idea what Dante was talking about. Seeing the look on her face, Dante turned and grabbed the saddle and mounted the animal without a problem, then he explained to her, "We're both hung."
"Oh God, look, you have fun, riding with your hung companion, I'm not–," she gasped when Dante grabbed her hand and pulled her toward the animal. He wasn't going to let her turn back now, and so she just turned and let him help her up onto the horse, gasping a bit when he grabbed the back of her leg and pulled it over the animals back, then hoisted her onto his lap. Regan stared ahead blankly, and her ass settled against his crotch, and she felt him reaching around her to grab the pommel of the saddle which was just in front of her crotch.
"Dante," she started, "I don't think–"
"I'm not ridin' this damned thing by myself. I've had enough of horses for the past few days. You're driving." He reached up and pulled her black hat off, then stuck it on his own head so he could see past her better, tilting it forward just a slight bit as she looked back at him with a raised brow. He smirked at her, and she noticed, though she didn't want to, that he looked far too handsome in that hat for his own damned good. With a shake of her head, she decided to just let it go for now, and took the reigns, goading Duke into a trot.
She was slightly thankful he was so stubborn though. She wanted to go riding deep down, but she didn't want to be by herself incase something else attacked her, and he'd given her that without her having to ask anyone. Regan didn't like having to ask anyone anything like that, it made her feel weak. Even still, she figured that if she could get away with it, she'd go without asking just so she could make herself feel as little weakness as possible. But that's when she had a thought, "Wait, what about Evelyn?"
"What about her?"
"I can't just leave her here alone, can I?"
"Well, she's not even here, Doc took her into town. Maybe if you'd come out of your room sometime, you'd get a news flash."
"Oh," Regan replied, "well," she lifted a brow, "sorry."
"Not your fault," Dante told her earnestly, "you have a lot of shit to think about. I couldn't imagine suddenly losing my demonic side and becoming completely human, or losing my human side and becoming completely demonic. You are what you are. It's what your used to and anyone who can't understand that needs a swift kick in the ass."
A solemn smile lit Regan's face, and she was glad he couldn't see it. Dante seemed to know more than he let onto despite the fact that he came off as a hardass without a care in the world to anyone elses feelings but his own sometimes, and she appreciated it. She didn't like to be coddled, and he didn't coddle her. He just told her like it was and then made her do something he knew would be good for her anyway even though she didn't seem to want to do it. She could only wonder if he knew how much he was actually helping her in that moment, if this was all some kind of devious plan on his part, or if he was truly just wanting to go riding for no other purpose that had to do with devious, calculating plans. Thinking it may have been a little bit of both, she decided to just let what would be just be and not worry on it anymore than that.
The snows had stopped falling for the time being but the sky was still grey with clouds. The fields and trees in the distance were white and cold looking however, and somehow, it made Regan feel even better. Maybe because it was so pretty, she couldn't be too sure. A silence had fallen between the two for the moment though, and as they rode on, Regan realized something. Considering how loud the quiet had gotten, she started, "You know, I don't even know your last name. That's sad considering I hired you."
She heard him snorting in amusement, followed by asking her, "Are you asking me now?"
"Sure," she replied, deciding any kind of conversation was better than none.
"Sparda."
Regan's brows narrowed. Somehow the name sounded familiar but she couldn't quite put her finger on it. "Where have I heard that before?"
"Probably from one of those legends about the dark knight."
It suddenly clicked. "Oh yeah, the story about the knight that did something," she shook her head, "why the hell can't I remember it?"
"Betrayed demon kind for the sake of humanity?" Dante asked her.
"Yeah," she nodded slowly, "kind of funny you have the same name."
"Well I would since he's my father."
Regan suddenly reached up and rubbed her eyes, taking a deep slow breath. "Okay, now not only are demons real, and I'm partly one now, but now, apparently, fairytales are true. What's gonna happen next, leprechauns and fairies actually existing?"
"Probably," Dante smirked, felt how tense she'd become over the whole thing again. "Don't sweat it, babe, it's not like it effects you any."
"Well it does, sort of," she grumbled, "it changes reality as I knew it."
"Pfft, reality is what you make of it," Dante muttered, "besides, I have a more important question."
"What's that?" Regan asked, genuinely curious, after all, she'd found out that he seemed to be surprising with whatever he'd say next, so she couldn't wait.
"Where the hell are we? Everything looks the same with this much snow around."
"Well, I grew up here, I know this place like the back of my hand," she informed Dante, then glancing at the back of her hand. There was a mark on it as if she'd scratched it, and she asked herself, "What the hell is that?"
Dante rolled his eyes, "Great, we're screwed."
"We are not," she held up her hand, "it's just a mark, I probably scratched an itch without realizing it."
Dante chuckled and caught her hand, taking a closer look at it. "You've got a freckle."
"I know."
"Where is it?"
She was grinning now, for the first time in what felt like days, and she told him, "Right side, back of my hand, near my index and thumb."
"Okay," Dante nodded, speaking as if she'd just gotten the first question in a line of very important questions right, "and where's the mole?"
"There's not a mole!" She replied somewhat loudly as she turned her head a bit and jerked her hand away from him, still grinning. Realizing he could probably see the grin, she turned back to the reigns just as soon as she'd gotten her hand away from him.
"Wait a second," he reached around and grabbed her chin, "I saw something."
"No you didn't," she informed him, keeping her head facing forward, the grin plastered across her lips growing bigger.
"Oh yeah I did," he started turning her head a bit, and she tilted it to the side to keep herself from looking at him as he slightly bent over her shoulder, "You're grinning. I knew it, I'm the man."
"You're a child," she grumbled, trying not to give him anything more than she already had like a laugh or a chuckle. Somehow she couldn't help it. She was just amused to no end, and it seemed like no matter how hard she was fighting his efforts into making her feel better for at least a little while, she just couldn't win.
Dante knew that was her game, trying to keep herself from smiling or laughing because she didn't want him to win. So he lifted his head back, looking at the snowy scenery around them, and he told her, "Yep, I know what'll make you laugh. I suddenly feel like singing."
"Oh God, don't," Regan implored him. "There's no need to scare the horse." Yet even though she'd put it like that, she couldn't help but be completely curious as to what the hell the man would sing.
Dante gave her a narrowed brow, then told her, "Hey, I can sing. Just let me think of the words." He started making a 'hmm' noise as he thought for a few moments, then he lifted his hand, "Trotting through the snow, a hot ass in my lap, it's a fucking tease that makes me wanna fap. I try to call her names, to get her in the sack, but it pisses her off so much she'd shoot me in the back, oh! Dante's sex, Dante's sex, he's not gettin' none. All he wants is a real hot chick so he can get 'ir done! Dante's sex, hot, hot sex, it's a fucking shame. He comes off as a pervert and the blue balls are to blame!"
Regan could not help herself. By the time he was done singing that, she was nearly red in the face from laughing so much. What the hell!? "Oh God," she breathed out, trying to speak coherently, "You did not just come up with that just now, did you?" If he'd wanted to win in the game of tug of war with trying to make her laugh, he'd definitely just wiped the floor with her.
"Yes and no," he grinned in reply, "I've kind of thought about it before."
"Jesus," she muttered, still grinning, "should I be scared now?"
"Only if you don't like blue balls."
"God!" Regan groaned loudly and pulled herself further away from him just to poke fun at him. "You know you really are terrible."
"You know it, babe," he smirked. "So, why don't you try one?"
"One what?"
"A song, shouldn't be too hard."
Regan rolled her eyes. "I don't think so."
"Oh come on, what's it gonna hurt? Though yeah, if you can't do it, then don't worry about it."
"I can do it!" Regan snapped out at him.
"Then do it."
"Fine!" She grumbled and started thinking of the words as a cold wind picked up over them, making them both thankful for their heavy clothing. Dante waited, wondering what she would come up with. Finally, she started singing, "Dante the red devil hunter, had a very shiny sword. And if you ever saw him, it would make you say 'good lord'." She spoke 'good lord' as if she were annoyed.
Dante grinned and asked her, "What's that supposed to mean, saying I'm ugly?"
"No, not for an ass."
"That's low."
"Well, asses are on the lower half of your body."
"Smartass."
"You know it, Slick," Regan smirked, her mind completely off of the events of the passed few days now, and she was back to her old self for the moment. "So am I gonna finish this song, or what?"
"Be my guest," Dante held out his hand and smirked at her, allowing her to continue. He was definitely curious as to what she'd come up with.
"Okay," she cleared her throat, "All of the other wranglers, liked to laugh and cheer him on. They didn't know poor Dante, had a case of blue ball syndrome. Then one snowy autumn eve, Dante came to say, 'Regan with your hair so red, why don'tcha jump into my bed!'. So were the blue balls cured? I guess perhaps we'll never know. But I can tell you one thing, no one really knows," she stopped, then looked back, "what Regan buried in the snow."
"Damn, I'll think twice next time before asking you to sing a song." Despite his distaste for the song, he was still smirking over it, and Regan pulled on the reigns as they moved by a stump jutting out of the ground. She knew exactly where they were when she saw it, and she pulled the horse to a stop so she could get him to turn left. Hitting her boots into his sides once he'd turned, he started trotting again and she smiled over Dante's comment on the song she'd sung him.
"What's wrong, truth hurt?"
"Nah, but I can see now why you don't have a boyfriend, guys are probably terrified of you."
Regan chuckled, her shoulders moving up in a shrug, "No, but I like to get my point across. Keeps the guys off of me."
"I can tell. What about Jack, haven't you two ever hit it off?"
"Nah, he's kinda like my big brother," Regan replied, "he's about ten years older than me, and we grew up together."
Dante considered that for just a moment, then he tilted his head slightly, "Seems like a recipe for that mushy love crap to me, but I guess if that's how you look at him, then you can't help it."
"Well, we did try once about a year ago and it just got weird."
"Oh," Dante replied, getting the feeling he could see what she'd mean. After all, if he'd grown up with a girl whom he looked at like a sister, and then tried to, he trailed of in his mind, yeah, he didn't think that'd work out too well. Looking down at the back of Regan's head after he had that thought, watching the curls of her hair swaying in the breeze slightly, he considered what she'd told him so far. He noticed that the more he found out about her, the more he wanted to find out about her, and while it'd been a long time since he'd had such an interest in a single person before, somehow he didn't mind it. "Why no one else," he heard himself asking before he'd had a chance to think about it.
Regan tilted her head slightly, looking back at him as if she were thinking on how to put it, then she glanced ahead again, "I guess you could say it's just not the right time for me. I'm so busy with the ranch I don't have much time to pay any attention to anyone else."
Mentioning the ranch brought back the thoughts of everything going on around them, and her head tilted down for a moment. "I have to thank you now, actually," she told him after she'd had the thought of it.
"For what?"
"Well, besides for saving my life, just for getting me out here today. It's helped a lot."
"I'm still calling it a date."
"You would," she grinned, "and what about you? Rotten luck with women, or have you got a couple hanging on the line back home?"
"Always," Dante smirked, "but if you mean a steady girlfriend, I'm not quite the relationship type of guy. Maybe one day, right situation, I might call myself a one woman man, but for now, I'm just playing the field."
Regan shook her head. He would think like that, wouldn't he? Probably just a typical guy thing as well where they say they sleep around, but haven't seen any action in a while themselves. But then again, you never did know, she thought, and only told him, "I'd tell you to watch out for STD's, but I don't think you'd be able to get one."
"Fuck that, I'm still not gonna stick my key in a biohazard unit. I might be stronger than the average human, but I'm not about to risk that kind of shit."
Regan started chuckling, sighing a soft breath of steam before she pulled her hands together and grumbled, "Why the hell didn't I think of gloves? My fingers are frozen."
Pulling her hands up to her mouth, she blew her warm breath on them, and watched Dante taking the reigns. She reached for his hands and placed them on his bare wrists to get him to let go of them, making him jerk, "Damn, you're a popsicle stick."
"Yeah, now let go of the wheel."
"No," he replied, taking her wrists with one of his hands and putting them back down on the pommel, "You get 'em warm. If you want the wheel back sooner, you can always stick 'em in my pants."
Regan started snorting quietly in her amusement to try to and stop herself from laughing, and she replied, "With your blue balls? They'd probably just freeze and break off."
She heard his soft chuckling at the running gag they seemed to have going now about the blue balls and she pulled her coat sleeves down over her hands, letting him drive for the moment so to speak. Somehow, and she wasn't sure how, but she was getting used to his crass comments, knowing now he had a big penchant for saying whatever the hell he wanted to because, honestly, he could kick some major ass, and if someone got offended by what he had to say, they'd have a hell of a time trying to make him take it back. But despite that, he didn't seem to be a bully, and she appreciated that about him. He didn't let this power he had make him go around thinking he could hurt anyone's feelings at any time just because he didn't like them, though she got the feeling he'd done it when he knew they deserved it.
She herself had a habit of saying what she thought no matter who's feelings she hurt, and she'd had to train herself over the years to bite her tongue constantly because unlike Dante, if someone got angry with her, and honestly wanted to fight her, she didn't really know, besides shooting, how to do it. Oh, she could swing a fist, but somehow she knew she just had too passive of a nature to really do that, at least, often anyway.
Dante himself was considering that aspect of her nature at about the same time. He figured he was absolutely right in that she didn't have a boyfriend because there wasn't a real man she'd come across yet who could stand up to her sharp tongue, but once you got past that, there was really a sweet girl underneath who wouldn't claw your eyes out like she'd claimed she would. With that thought in mind, he asked her, "So, since this is as close to a date as I'm gonna get with you, let me ask you a personal question."
"Go ahead and ask, but I'm not promising you any answers, if even a truthful one." She smirked a little, having said that thinking he was might ask her some kind of risque question like about what kind of sexual fetishes she might've had.
"Okay, fine by me. How long has it been?"
"Since what?"
"Since you've been with anyone."
Regan turned her head, giving him a perked brow, "Been with anyone how?"
"Hot monkey sex," he grinned playfully, and when she rolled her eyes, he chuckled, "I'm joking, I mean just anyone period."
"Well," she thought for a moment, "hmm, maybe six years?"
"When you were 15? Damn, you're overdue." Dante himself thought he hadn't had any in a while, maybe a few months, but six years? That sounded like she'd been with a guy and didn't like it very much. He had a devilish thought of showing her what was so great about it.
"I had a few flings in between but they didn't lead to anything," she told him honestly, somewhat ruining his idea of her having not liked it, though in reality, they were talking about two different things entirely. Regan just meant dating, Dante was thinking about sex by the way she'd put it. It was a common mistake many people made and, in that place and time, neither of them made the connection of what the other was thinking or talking about.
Reaching up for his hands at that moment to bat them away from the reigns when they felt warm again, Regan could then see the ranch off in the distance signaling the end of their ride. Dante didn't let go though and he only grabbed her hands and smirked as she pulled at them, "Let go."
"Why? Don't like holding hands?"
"You're poking fun at me, that's why," she smirked, tugging at her hands in his and finally managing to grab the reigns on her own even though his hands were still on hers. She noticed the size difference then, how much bigger his hands were compared to hers, and she tried not to notice by looking away. It was an attractive thought that she didn't need to be having about him right then and there. Changing the subject, she said, "You know, I really have no idea how to fight. If those guys come back, I'm gonna be at a loss for words besides just shooting them like I did before, and that didn't seem to work very well."
Dante considered what she'd said, and he knew she was right, "Blades work better on them sometimes, but you did a pretty damned good job last night from what I could see."
"Bleh," Regan drew out the sound blandly, "if I'd done a good job, Jack wouldn't have gotten so hurt. Which, by the way, have you even seen him today?"
"Yeah, Doc's got him on the good stuff. He's fine. And if you're worried about fighting, I can show you how to do that."
"Oh God, no thanks." Regan smirked, "Somehow I don't think that's a very good idea."
"Well, if you need a protector then," Dante went on, "I can do that too."
"I don't need a protector!" Regan rolled her eyes, "I just don't need a cocky guy in a red trench coat showing me up all of the time because, let's be honest, you know you'd do it."
"Oh of course, otherwise it's not any fun."
"You're such an ass," she grumbled, coming toward the stables again and pulling on the reigns to get Duke to stop. It was only then that Dante remembered he had her hands covered with his and still hadn't let go of them. Regan only just then noticed as well at the movement she'd made, which had been what caused Dante to notice. Dante slowly pulled his hands back, deciding for once to be polite, telling her he was sorry simply.
"It's okay," she replied, "they actually stayed warm."
"Oh, well, then I'm not sorry. I knew you'd like it."
"Ass," she repeated at him.
"You're obsessed with that, aren'tcha?"
"No," she muttered, "only as much as you're obsessed with reading a good book and drinking a cup of tea."
"Heh, no thanks," Dante drew out blandly, climbing off of Duke's back, and then he looked up as Regan did the same. It'd started getting a bit dark by that time, they'd been riding for about half an hour, and Regan began to get Duke into the stables again even though he seemed more interested in hanging around Dante than anything else. "I'll come to see ya sometime, buddy," Dante told the horse as she led it off. He thought it was pretty funny that a Budweiser horse of all horses liked him.
He waited outside of the stables after she disappeared into them and he leaned against the wall. He wasn't sure what to think. Somehow he was disappointed, and he didn't know why. He felt like he still wanted to be out riding with her, had actually enjoyed it despite the fact that for better or for worse, nothing exciting had happened, just a good conversation with an intelligent, hot woman. He knew that normally, he wouldn't have even hung around outside of the stables. He probably would have just walked off and called it an evening. That's when he remembered the hat he was wearing, and he pulled it off, knowing that he probably looked good in it, but he needed to give it back to her. So he used that as an excuse to wait.
When Regan came back out of the stables and she stretched her legs and back a bit, he looked over at her, and saw her glancing around as if she were wondering where he'd went. Spotting him on the other side of the door, she pointed to the lodge with her thumb over her shoulder on the other side of the ranch in the distance, "Going inside?"
"Yeah."
"Okay, I'll see you there, then." She told him, turning around.
"Regan."
Having used her name instead of some endearment, Regan felt more obligated to pay him attention, and she turned around to look at him, wondering what he wanted. When she did, she found him standing right next to her, and she also found her mouth once more pressed against his like it had been the other day. Dante had actually only meant to give her the hat back, when he'd called her name, but when she'd stopped and started turning around, he'd had the thought of 'fuck it'. If he was going to get smacked for this, then he'd get smacked. But he wanted to kiss her, if only to settle his lustful thoughts because he'd be a complete liar if he said he wouldn't want to sleep with the woman.
His tongue had brushed along the softness of her thick lips, tracing them back and then forth, only slight caresses, before he pulled his mouth away and took a good breath. "Okay, you're gonna smack the shit out of me now, aren't you?"
Regan had opened her eyes slightly at the words and looked up at his face, still so close to hers, and she bit her lip before she put her arms up on his shoulders and kissed him herself, a movement he accepted immediately and let his lips part for. Their tongues met this time, and Regan had to stand up on the balls of her feet to meet him properly, being several inches shorter than he was.
A few faint flakes of snow had started falling from the sky again, a cold wind blowing through the air over them, and Dante pulled her closer, arms moving around her back while the kiss grew warmer between them. His hand slid up and into her loose hair, the other one dropping the hat, and pressing her against him by her lower back.
Their tongues stroked each other and Regan realized in that moment that Dante was an exceptionally good kisser. He could feel her swaying a bit against him, as if she were deeply affected by it, and then moving to her tip toes once more to try and keep up. So he reached his hands down her back and over her ass, pulling her up from the ground and against him completely, moving her back to the wall. Her soft whimper sounded, incited him to continue, and she caught his bottom lip in her teeth and pulled her head back slowly, dragging his lip out against them until it bounced back into place. Dante groaned over the movement and he leaned down once more and covered her mouth again, squeezing her ass in his fingers through her jean pants.
Regan gasped into his lips slightly, arched her back to press her body into his, and dug her nails into his coat sleeves. She felt something inside of her coming alive like she'd never felt before, and it was overwhelming, almost to the point of being undeniable. Her legs slid up his sides, around his thighs, and she pressed into him a bit harder, wanting to incite more from him, almost feeling like she needed to, had to. She then felt his hand sneaking up her chest, fingers opening, sliding slowly around her breast beneath her coat.
When he cupped it, squeezed it, Regan gasped and she felt her nipple growing hard in anticipation. The reaction sent shivers down her body, through her blood and into her panties where she felt a throbbing beginning to form. The kiss had become much more ravenous, and hearing her whimpered moan as Dante had began to brush his finger over the area of her nipple, his own arousal started really coming to life. It made him sound a low groan in the back of his throat, and with the moaned response she gave him, he turned his head and began placing kisses against her throat.
Regan was breathing heavily, lost in the movements, her hands inside of his jacket as she gripped his sides. Hearing her heavy breathing, moving in to her ear, he asked her on a soft, husky voice, "Overdue?" But Regan couldn't be completely sure she'd understood him, and she only turned her head to try to kiss him again, which made him smirk. Slowly, Dante let his hand wander down from her breast during the kiss, down against the groan of her pants, and he felt her body tensing up against him when he pressed them up into her crotch, slowly circling.
A flood of desire washed over Regan so strong that, during the intensified, tongue thrusting kiss, she opened her eyes and suddenly made a loud groan. She turned her head away from his and, not knowing her own strength, pushed him back from herself by his shoulders, allowing her legs to fall back to the ground. Both of them were panting a slight bit, Regan much more than Dante however, and she turned away from him roughly, trying to put some distance between them by walking off. The movement made Dante think she was disgusted with him suddenly, so when she turned to walk away, he caught her by the shoulders and pulled her back against the wall again to stand in front of him. "Wait a second, what the hell was that all about?"
Regan kept her eyes closed, and she swallowed, trying to get her throat cleared so she could speak a decent sentence. "It went too far, Dante, we don't need to do this, I normally don't do this," her breathing still heavy and her heart still pounding over the movements. She'd never been that excited before, and it scared her a bit. So she'd reacted the way she had, and tried to get away from him until she could gather her thoughts together.
Dante himself hadn't meant for things to go that far, he'd only wanted to give her a proper kiss and then be done with it. But maybe it was the way she'd reacted to him, but whatever the reasoning, he'd found himself having not wanted to stop. Still, he didn't want her to just jerk away from him either, not over something they both hadn't meant to happen quite exactly as it had. "Well, you can always just say I'm a hot bastard if you need an excuse to blame it on." Dante replied, letting go of her shoulders, "But it doesn't have to be like that, I do have control you know. If you want me to stop, just say so."
"Sorry," she whispered, "I just panicked," then she finally looked up at him, "I've never felt like that before, like I couldn't deny myself."
Demon blood, Dante thought, aside from lustful feelings already there more than likely, and that wasn't an arrogant thought on his part. Well, maybe partly arrogant. "Yeah," he told her, only guessing when he said confidently, "you'll get used to it."
"I'm not so sure about that, Dante, but if you say so," she grumbled, not entirely sure what he meant exactly, but decided not to ask him otherwise she might get pissed at the answer. Then she turned, seeing her hat laying in the snow. Leaning down, she picked it up, dusted it off, and then put it back on her head, deciding to just let things be at that. There was no need to bring up the kiss or the touches they'd just shared ever again, even though she wasn't dumb enough to believe it wouldn't come up anymore. "I'm starving," she muttered. "What do you say to pizza and beer? A lot of beer."
Dante's lips turned up in a big grin, and he held his hands out, "After you, your highness. Best damned idea I've heard all day." After all, Dante felt he'd been putting up with a lot of crap for little or next to no reward, aside from his make out session just now maybe, and pizza and beer sounded really good to him at about that time. "Who're we callin'?"
"Vino's," Regan replied, "little place in town that delivers only, and does pick up, but it's a good twenty five minute drive, especially in this mess." She motioned to the snow around them.
"What's the name of the town," Dante asked her, "West Springs?"
"Yeah," Regan nodded her head, "pretty much where we are, just on the outskirts."
"How big is the town?"
"Well, if you drive up I-77, and you blink, you'll probably miss it. It's a real small place." Regan looked over at him, "Why the sudden interest in town?"
"Might be a good place to check out. After all, if Nathan led the Democrites, then they had to have somewhere they met up once a week on Sunday."
He had a point, she guessed, and glanced over at him, "I'd wait until tomorrow morning, it's a town that fears dusk, and you won't be able to get into a lot of places for any information. But then again, it's your call, Slick," she added, smirking, as if their previous make out session hadn't bothered her relationship with him at all. "They do have a bar and, of course, the pizza place and stuff are open for a while after dark."
Dante didn't make much of a response to her outside of, "I'll think about it." He was wondering to himself how cult activity in such a small town wouldn't be noticed, unless, of course, every single person in the town were cultists. It was possible, he knew, but he could only wonder if it were true or not.
No matter which way it went however, Dante knew he was about to seriously piss some cultists off whenever he put a stop to their object of worships plan.
--
"Kind of surprising, I didn't think I'd find another Democrite I didn't know about hanging around good old Black Wing Creek. Too bad I didn't know about you before, it could have saved me some trouble last night, all I would have had to do was obtain the Gateway."
"Well, they come in all shapes and forms now don't they?"
Arias rolled his eyes, back facing the man he was speaking to. "Spare me the philosophy in order to make yourself appear to fit in. As far as I'm concerned, you're just another human trying to assure your own survival in the threat of demonic danger." Turning, Arias let his black eyes move over the man standing before him. "I have to ask you though, what is it that makes you worship my father?"
The reply was given after a short hesitation. "Because humans are weak like you said. They weren't meant to govern themselves. They worship things they don't even know exist and then stupidly try to make their own rules. At least demons are honest in their deceit and don't try to lie to themselves to justify a situation, only to each other."
"Such a brown nosing speech you've given," Arias replied to the man who narrowed his brows slightly. Arias began walking around the man slowly, looking him over. "But if you really wish to throw yourself away in worshiping such a demon, that's none of my concern."
"And might I ask why you don't? After all, he is your own father, is he not?"
Arias rolled his eyes, coming to stand before the human. "If I were you, I'd not ask me my personal affairs twice. He spawned me, yes, and he has power, yes, the rest is our own business, not yours. Now," he went on, lifting his hand and waving it as if to change the subject that way instead of with words, "you're going to watch over the little girl for us, and see to it she's cared for until we need her, correct?"
"Yes, of course," the man nodded. "I'm not bad with children at all, and she won't be a problem for me to look out for."
"Ah, I see. In that case, just make sure you don't let yourself follow the same path as Nathan by finding the urge to fall in love with the child growing inside of you. You know what his decision led him to."
"Yes, I know, and speaking of Nathan, I have a request to put toward you." Though oblivious to any other human, Arias could see the burning of greed and excitement over what the man was thinking of in his eyes.
Sighing and unimpressed, he shrugged, "What?"
"I'd like to step up in his place, lead the Democrites. I won't let them down. There must be a way I can prove my worth."
"As if I really care," Arias sighed, moving past the man slowly, then coming to a stop, an idea forming in his head. "That's between Democrities and your own race of humans, but I've an idea pop into my thought well just now," he spun around and lifted a finger at the man who was now facing him, parting his lips and drawing a breath. "If you kill your own son, not only will you prove your fortitude to the Democrites, but also, you'll prove to me that you can be trusted with caring for the child for us. You'll be well rewarded, young sir."
The man smirked, then he stood up straight and nodded his head, "That shouldn't be too hard to achieve. I'll do it as soon as possible."
"Oh you are a loathsome one," Arias shivered sarcastically. Then he smirked, "Might I know the name of such a creature."
Parting his mouth to speak, the man told him, "It's..."