Nobody's Home
Chapter One
Allen Bradley smiled as he stepped down the stairs of his Angel Falls law office onto the tattered concrete mess that went for a sidewalk in the shabby city. He smiled the wide, pleased smile of a man in perfect peace with himself and his environment. And he was. Well, in peace with his environment anyway. Because Allen was far from being a man. In reality, he was a wolf demon known as a Lupin, and as far as his environment went, what could have been better than getting off with Dante Sparda held up in the hospital? His stomach had been grumbling since he had first gotten the email from Dora, an Aryan demon that worked on the second story of the Angel Falls Law Office of Cronose & Craven. At first Bradley had thought it a joke, but as he turned the corner away from his office, he could do nothing but smile. Devil May Cry was as desolate as the grave. Dark and cold could both be sensed from the former burlesque house, and Bradley could remember when it wsa. He'd had great hunting then, all those pretty young girls with their costumes and curvaceous bodies. The thought of it made his mouth water, and he couldn't believe it had only been a hundred years ago. The hunting had been great then on these nasty streets, but then Sparda had shown up. He had always been a wet blanket, even when he had been one of Mundus's Generals. But he had become ten times that after developing a conscience. And now Bradley found himself having to put up with his half-human brat, patrolling the city and taking jobs. The last hundred years in Angel Falls had been hell. Correction. Less fun than hell.
As Bradley spotted the two motorcycles in front of DMC, he vowed that it would be different, if only for tonight. After all, when the cat's away, the mice will play. Bradley put his nose to the wind and caught the scent almost immediately before he was off down a rather un-kept alley way off to the left of DMC. Bradley rushed down the alley, ignoring the various forms of human waste that slowly began to mar the pant legs of his gray business suit, and ignored the various scents of human depravity. He was on the hunt, and little but little his body began changing to fit the self-inflicted mind set. He could feelt his human skin tearing and ripping as his own true muscles began to stretch and flex. He watched as huge portions of it fell like dust to the murky gray stone below. Then he watched as his bristly fur began to shoot out in clumps from the tattered skin that remained, and laughed. The transformation, or rather shedding of his human skin, didn't take much longer and he was fully beast when he reached his target.
It was a kid, about seventeen of eighteen, Bradley guessed. She was dressed in what the demon referred to as Goth/Punk garb. The woman had black hair with dyed deep blue streaks, soft cute facial features, and a slight smile. She was about 5'9", wore skin tight black leather pants, a corset, and a trench coat topped it all off. The leather caressed and held her curves perfectly, and he found himself thinking "Lucky pants", then "Damn it I've been playing human far too long." Still, no matter how long he had been playing human, he wouldn't hesitate in his evisceration and consumption of her; well, maybe he would have some fun with her. This thought brought a smile to his Lupin lips, and it was with this in mind that he charged. He erupted from the north entrance to the alley way, four hundred and twenty pounds of pure animalistic muscle with glowing red/orange eyes. The girl, as expected, made a dash toward the south entrance, only to have him grab her by the collar of her trench.
"Where do you think you're going?" he growled, his hot, putrid breath a steam cloud in the cold air. But it was to his surprise as the girl looked up into his feral eyes, and he realized there was still a smile on her lips.
Then she replied, "I'm not going anywhere, but you are."
This, in turn, brought a deep puffing sound from the throat of the wolf demon, an inhuman sound that was obviously laughter.
"Oh do tell...where am I going exactly?" the monster asked as he opened his jaw to receive the tender flesh of her throat.
"To hell."
Bradley turned instantly, just in time for the bullet to hit him square in the eye, sending a spray of blood, bone, and brain all over the wall to his left.
The gun man smiled, for indeed he was a gun "man". He was about the girl's age, sharing her sense of fashion in a more masculine sense, and sporting long, lime green locks. Stretching, he slowly worked out the kinks in the lean, ropey muscles of his athletic frame, and extended his left hand to the woman, who now sat covered in gore on the alley floor, while he holstered the red and black chrome plated hand gun into its holster at his right hip.
"Need some help, love?" he teased in an English accent, shooting her a smug smirk as he did.
"Screw you Hynrick, you bloody bastard," she snarled, English as well.
"Oh come on Sukura, you know I would have let you have him, but I was worried when you let him grab ya," Hynrick said in a rather amused apology, that was really no apology.
"I said screw you wanker," she pouted, still angry.
"Don't be like that love," he said, kneeling and taking her into his arms, "I'll let you have fun with the werewolf when we catch him, if you cheer up."
With that promise, Sukura seemed to lighten up. She got to her feet, managed to get all the largest pieces of gore from her clothes, and smiled. She had a really nice smile; it never failed to flutter him, and did so at that moment as she reached for him. For a moment, he thought she might still be angry, and had simply smiled to get within striking distance of himself with her Kantars, but that worry soon abandoned Hynrick as she smiled again and hugged him tight.
"Do you really mean it?" she asked excitedly, like a child being promised a candy store.
"Yeah," was his reply and she hugged him again and kissed him deeply.
He ignored the wolf demon blood on her lips and returned the kiss with interest, until they both came away panting.
"I know the first thing I'll do with him too, for hounding after that Vampire bitch, even after I offered to let him join us," she said belligerently.
"Quite the scornful little thing, aren't we?" he taunted again with a smile.
"Yes I am," she replied in a complete seriousness, "But then that's why you love me, because I'm such a mean spirited bitch."
"You got me there."
"I know," was her reply.
It was then that she molded herself against his steel hard chest, and yawned.
"Come on love. You have the files," she said, indicating the flip folders in his hands that were not completely free of blood, "And the werewolf won't get too far on foot. So let's not go get some sleep!"
Even as she said this, he caught her mischievous grin, and caught her by the waist, carrying her towards the bikes, though he doubted they would make it back to the hotel.
~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~
Demona Wrath sighed as she ran across the roof tops of the rather dilapidated factory district of Angel Falls with all the speed and agility allotted her by her vampire heritage; it was a sound of sorrow, and of loss, a loss so profound that she didn't think it possible to feel it for someone still alive. Though feel it she did, it was like a fire, consuming her and licking at her at the same time. Only this fire could never truly take her, it could only leave her asking 'why'? Why had Donovan done what he did, no...more importantly...how had he? He hated guns, and even more deeply, he hated death. That was the reason he had trained so hard with majiks, so he could banish the demons he defeated rather than kill them. He had refused even to kill something so low and evil as the Underworld demons and devils. But then that was how he was, naive, thinking he could save everybody all the time, but then amazingly enough, he always had. That is, until earlier tonight. Earlier, he had shot Dante Sparda's compadre. She had seen it with her own eyes, and now she found herself chasing her own partner. The kid that had been like a son to her as long as she could remember.
"Donovan, I'm sorry for what I'll have to do," she said grimly to the wind, praying that the night would somehow carry the words on; because she knew she could never say them when she saw him again.
Chapter One
Chapter Two
