La Decima Storia: Dure Verità

She knocked back a shot of rum with staggering finesse, and turned towards the man at her side to tug beguilingly at the sleeve of suit coat. Debito turned his easy smile to her. He was already swaddled in the sweet liquor's soft embrace.

"Sconoscuito, and you too," she begged him, and he nodded. He was happy to patronize her, satisfy her whims, do whatever it took to reap the saccharine reward of her chiming laughter.

"Aha! Barkeep, one more for my man!" she chirped to the publican, slamming her small fist down on the wet bar.

'My man?' he wondered to himself whimsically. 'I think I can get used to that.'

Debito was never a man to be tied to any one woman. Not when there were so many succulent low-hanging fruits just waiting to be plucked. However, something changed in him over the course of evening. It could be the wine talking, or it could be the hot-blooded vixen that clung to his arm, but either way, for tonight, at least, he relished in the possessiveness of her words. Debito, also, found him similarly possessed with the urgent call to make her his. To ruin her for all other men, but him. He was almost alarmed with sheer intensity in this longing.

A shot slid across the sopping wet bar right into his hand, sloshing half the contents across his palm. His vulpina threw her head back in rich throaty laughter.

"Affrettatevi! Affrettatevi! We have much more to see! La Carnival waits for no one!" she shouted gleefully. He joined the carefree chorus of her laughter and rocked back the shot in a single fluid motion.

She grabbed his hand and pulled with enough force he staggered off the bar stool, and into her arms. She helped him to his feet, her pearlescent teeth peeking below the muzzle of her vulpine mask.

"I think Sconoscuito is weak for rum, no?" she jeered, ribbing him gently.

"Not as weak as I am for beautiful women," he confessed. She scoffed and pushed him gently by the shoulder, evidently having learned of the instability in his balance.

They left the pub and wandered out into the streets, leaning into each other for support. At this time of night the revelry was in full swing, and the merrymakers flitted from destination to destination like so many vibrant tropical birds. The couple drifted amongst the crowd, pausing with them to watch the acrobats balance precariously on their hands, before sweeping into extravagant somersaults. The girl would clap and cheer along, every so often turning to nudge Debito to join in the gaiety, to which he willingly acquiesced. As they progressed down the thoroughfare, the acts, as well as the houses, grew more grandiose. There were fire breathers and sword swallowers. Men on stilts, brightly clad in clashing patterns, ambled down the streets with their awkward gaits. Guitarists, accordion players, fiddlers, all lined the streets, supplying the accompaniment to the festivities.

He watched the crowd with lazily, his gaze swaying languidly between the meat vendors, the brewery stalls, wine sellers, when suddenly dark uniformed men briskly walking through the crowd caught his attention. He regarded them warily, guiding the girl to edges of the market in attempt to skirt their raptor-like gaze. They grew closer and closer with each passing moment, and Debito couldn't help but feel they were targeting him.

"Hold there! In the name of Fortuna!" a guard bellowed. The crowd scattered at their call, leaving a vacant approach between the guards and himself.

"Merda! They found me!" Vulpina spat, and grabbed his wrist forcefully dragging him down a darkened alleyway.

The guards gave chase, their shouts for them to halt, echoed off the buildings. They dodged and weaved through the dark, rank alleyways of Fortuna. His vulpina occasionally glanced towards the sky, before changing their course. Even while running, drunken and frantic through the backstreets, he did not fail to recognize her superior navigation skills. Over the course of their flight, he noticed the growing harshness, a briny tang, in the air. The buildings grew more and more ramshackle. There were more and more warehouses. Suddenly she stopped, and muffled her exhausted pants with her hand. She held one finger up to her mouth, in signal to stay silent. He complied, the hair along his neck standing on end.

"The damn girl gave us the slip! We will move up town. She must've doubled back to try and blend into the crowd." Disgruntled voices crashed across the silence. It stood in stark contrast to cacophony of the carnival. It was almost eerie. Their footsteps echoed away into the night. He heard a sigh of relief escape the girl at his side, and she slumped to the ground laughing softly.

"Thank goodness," she muttered. "They were going to drag us back to dance with all those dolls."

"You really don't want to go back, do you?" Debito whispered. A soft chuckle rumbled in his chest. The woman stood up and stretched before laughing brightly.

"Did you?" she questioned. A sultry quality invaded her voice that sapped the moisture from his throat and set his pulse hammering. Immediately, Debito knew what she was really asking. And it wasn't if he wanted to go back to the party. It was if he was glad he left with her.

"No. I think I'm happy to stay right were I am, thank you very much," he answered lowly, snaking his arms around her slender waist to pull her flush against his body.

Her low, rich laughter invaded his ears. There was a new quality to the timbre, sweet and lustful. He trailed feather light kisses across the exposed flesh of her shoulder and up her neck, eliciting her soft sighs that only functioned to increase their intensity. He traced the outline of her jawline with his tongue, her breath grew jagged and shallow.

"Sconoscuito." She whispered his name breathlessly, her hands gripping the fabric of his coat, and he smiled into her lips as he claimed them in a passionate kiss that set his blood on fire. Their lips melded as his tongue danced lightly across hers. He deepened the kiss, pushing more forcefully against her, backing her into the brickwork of the building.

Liberta raced along the crowded streets, weaving between pedestrians with Nova hot at his heels. His heart thundered his desperation as he prayed to any saint that would hear him, to please let him not be too late.

It's only a matter of time. It's only a matter of time. His mind rang with this mocking chorus, a doomsday prophecy that only hastened his feet. The cityscape fled past in blur of vibrant reds, blues, and greens and warbling tunes that all mixed together in a nauseating cacophony of dread. On instinct he turned down a darkened alley, his anxiety setting a punishing pace. The sounds and lights evaporated into nothingness, just the sound of his labored breaths and the staccato of his footfalls.

He skidded to a halt, frozen by the sight before his eyes. Nova pulled up beside him and shot a questioning glance. Liberta pointed into the half-illuminated darkness. There they were, locked in a pose that brought even more color to cheeks, already flushed from exertion. The pirate was pinned against the wall in a passionate embrace. Her leg arched and hooked around Debito's own. Her mask pushed half way up her face, exposing her identity to all that cared to see, as his friend enthusiastically feasted on the creamy flesh of her neck. Liberta wasn't sure if he should breathe a sigh of relief or look away in embarrassment, unconsciously electing for the latter.

Here? In the open, just like that? His mind was rendered blank by the sheer audacity of the scene unfolding before him. He knew Debito bore quite the reputation for carousing, but never believed him to be so brazen about it. He moved to take a step backwards, to retreat from whence they came. It seemed the situation was well in hand, and that his worries were unfounded. Apparently, Debito had managed to come to some kind of an agreement with the former pirate, if their current activities were any indication. Nova stopped him short with a soft touch on the shoulder and a shake of his head.

"I really don't think we are needed here," Liberta whispered. "Seems to me like they are getting along splendidly."

"I think we should stay nearby. I've got a bad feeling," Nova muttered.

"Quit being a pervert! Let's get out of here," Liberta hissed. Liberta could almost feel the heat emanating for his friend's glare. "Fine. Whatever. Let's at least wait out in the street. I don't know about you, but frankly I'm not looking for first-hand knowledge on Debito's most recent conquest."

They turned the corner, and settled in for a long, uncomfortable wait. This really had to be the worst experience of Liberta's young life.\

Debito's hand drifted up her waist to caress the soft contours of her body, and she gasped heatedly into his mouth. Another mischievous smile tugged at his lips as he traced the outline of her teeth with his tongue. His fingers slid across the chilled flesh of her cheek. He pulled back, breaking the kiss, their hair and masks disheveled. His hung limply around his neck by its strings. He was ready to suggest they find somewhere more appropriate to continue their dalliance, but realized this was his chance to catch his first glimpse of the beauty behind the mask. Drink full of the sight of her. He opened his eyes to catch a glimpse of her face, seeing only her violet eyes wide with shock, tinged with fear. She released him, and just as suddenly, her hands shot up, to press her mask against her face, in a frantic attempt to obscure it from his view. His inebriated mind found it difficult to make sense of the rapidly unfolding events. He reached up to pull her mask away, but she recoiled, backing away, shaking her head desperately.

"No, please. It's better that you don't see. It's better that you just leave now," she begged. Her desperation fueled his confusion. He took a tentative step towards her.

"Please, show me your face. What could be the harm? You have already stolen my heart, mia vulpina," he confessed, softly.

He saw her take a steadying breath, and slowly let the mask drop. It fell to the pavement with a hollow clatter. She looked up with a fearful, pained expression. And in that instant it dawned on him, like a flashbulb bursting in his mind. It was her. It'd been her all along. His mind was quagmire of emotions, confusion, anger, frustration, and most of all, strangely, betrayal.

"You…" he hissed.

She merely nodded, her large violet orbs watery with anxiety and a profound expression of sadness. But, at this point, Debito was beyond caring. His world was rocked to the very core. The whole night was just lies upon more lies. He thought, for a moment, that he was able to get away from this constant, nagging madness, away from thoughts of her. Yet, here she stood, for once real and tangible. Not the incorporeal stuff of dreams, but a living, breathing woman of flesh and blood, his desire for whom still seared into his veins. In his dreams, it was enough to turn his stomach. The way he touched her, kissed her, the way she called his name, all so vivid, it could easily be mistaken as reality. In real life, it was unconscionable. This woman, she was the enemy of Regalo, his home, and should, also, be his enemy. He'd tried to convince himself of that, but these thoughts… No matter how hard he tried, he couldn't stamp them down. And all he wanted to know was why! Why couldn't he forget about her? He stared daggers into her, rage bubbling up in his throat, and the words just poured out as a desperate keening sound.

"You… Why is it always you? Why are you the only thing I can think about? What did you do to me?" he yelled. She just stared on with those eyes full of despair that only stoked his anger. "Answer me!"

"Debito…" She murmured his name, and took a step forward, her hand slowly reached out to him. She was so beautiful, it hurt. And the closer she got, the more he felt his fragile self-control begin to unravel. Fear coiled in his chest. His wrath was the only thing the checked his overwhelming desire. It was something he couldn't afford to lose. Before he knew it, his hand was on his gun. His shaking hands aimed straight at her.

"Don't fucking touch me! Don't you dare fucking touch me!" he gritted out. "Haven't you already done enough?"

"No!" the girl screamed, shrill and terrified. He was momentarily taken aback by her unexpected outburst. "No! You won't do it again!"

She doubled over, sobbing, clutching at her face as an eerie magenta light erupted between her fingers. Her Arcana? Debito thought to himself, he suddenly grew disoriented. His vision blurred, and his balance swayed dangerously.

Serafina… A name echoed in his distracted thoughts, the name of a woman he didn't know, or just barely remembered. He couldn't say. He couldn't think. All he knew was that he needed to stop her, this time, before she got away. This time, he would keep her. The sounds of shouting and quickly approaching footsteps echoed through the alleyway, obliterated by the discharge of his pistol. It happened so fast, that he wasn't sure what took place. Just muddled confusion. Masculine groans of pain contrasted against her sharp, fearful sobs.

"You… figlio di puttana. You actually fucking shot me!" Liberta's voice gritted out. He stared, hollow with shock, at his friend, sitting on the pavement, the pirate sobbing beside him as he clutched his shoulder. "What the hell were you thinking, Debito? You could have killed her! You could have killed me! Is that what you wanted?"

"No… I…" Debito was at a loss for words, and he did the only thing that came to mind. He dropped his pistol in the dingy alley. He turned tail and ran like the coward that he was, away from the horror and humiliation of his actions.

"Goddammit! Nova! Go after him. Bring him back. I'll deal with the girl," Liberta snapped. Nova took two steps forward, then paused looking questioningly back over his shoulder.

"Don't worry. I… I'm not going to run anymore," Amica choked out. Nova nodded and disappeared into the darkness.

"Jesus. What a mess!" Liberta groaned.

"I'm sorry," Amica muttered. "This is all my fault."

"No. Well, not entirely," Liberta conceded, pushing himself one-handed off the cobblestone. "Let's get back to the manor. I think I have more pressing concerns than trying to cast blame."

A/N: And thus we have reached the conclusion of the La Carnival Arc. I wanted to get this completed in April, so I'm running a little behind on schedule. Not by much, though! I hope it kept you on the edge of your seats like it did me! I tried not to give it away too early.

Review shout-outs!

Guest: Here's your update! I hope you didn't have to wait too long. I know how that can be agonizing. Your enthusiasm is really motivating! So keep cracking the whip and I'll keep pounding on these keys. Just a word of warning, now that we've progressed through this arc (Yes, this fanfiction has arcs, however pretentious that may seem, that's how I am working on the outlines. Anyway…), I am going to need to think a little bit on how I am going to proceed. I've got the basic gist of what I want already, so I think by the end of next week, I'll have the next three or so chapters plotted out. So I'd say to check back around May 8th or 9th. I should have La Storia Undicesimo ready for posting.

Translations:

La Decima Storia: Dure Verita = The Tenth Story: Hard Truths

Vulpina = Vixen

Sconoscuito = Stranger

Affrettatevi = Hurry up

Italian Profanity: (It wouldn't be drama without any adult language!)

Merda = Shit

Figlio di puttana = Son of a whore

Thanks for reading and please let me guilt trip you into reviews! It doesn't really have anything to do with the number of reviews I get, although I won't complain if you overload my inbox with both your affections and harsh criticisms. (^_^) Frankly, I care about your thoughts! I care about you, my dear Reader! Your feedback lets me know how I am doing. I am really anxious to hear your thoughts on the characters. It's something I am often kind of nervous about, especially how Amica is being received by the readers. Anyway, that's all for today!

Ciao,

shotgunhero