Dante

  It dropped them in the room Dante usually phased into. The circle above them was a mist of swirling burgundy and purple before closing in on itself. Dante landed fine, used to the impact, but the boys stumbled with breathless gasps as they worked to steady and acclimate to the slight thickness in the air. He smirked at their reactions but moved quickly.

  “Stay here.” His instruction earned him a perplexed glance and he motioned for them to have a seat with a sigh as he explained. “I don't know exactly where to find Jax. I need to go to a bar. The Oracle. It's not far, but it's too far for you and your slow noodle legs. Stay here, this place is protected. Lay low and don’t touch anything. I'll be back.”

  He didn't give them a chance to argue before he pulled his hood to cover his noticeable features and sprinted out of the house

  When he hopped on his bike, and it roared to life, it captured the attention of a few supernaturals. He skidded onto the street and wove between the other hellish vehicles.

  It was late in Infernia. Most demons in this region were out and about, either haggling with merchants or scheming,

  He pulled his bike into a spot by the door, ignoring some bystanders watching as he dismounted. His focus was on getting answers, not their hushed curses and gossip of the demon hunter once they saw glimpses of his face and blue irises.

  He slowed his rush to a stalk, careful not to betray his growing anger, though his eyes still flashed with tension. As he entered the crowded building, the thumping music pulsed through the air, its heavy beat vibrating beneath his feet. The creatures grinding against each other on the dance floor parted, clearing a path for him to reach the bar.

  The Faun handing out drinks behind the bar saw Dante as he stalked through the crowd and his face paled.

  “D-D-Dante.” He stuttered, looking over his shoulder towards his boss, who came over immediately, probably also seeing Dante's menacing body language. “We don't want trouble.”

  “And we won't have any right?” His boss placed a claw on the weapon at his hip.

  “Not if you give me the information I'm after.” Dante smiled, flashing his canines. “Looking for a Castor. Goes by Jax. He's been at a few tables here.”

  They only looked at the hunter, the Minotaur's face stone, and the barhand shifting nervously.

  “Boris, horned-bogs mead.” The owner nodded for the barhand to help another patron and once he left, the Minotaur leaned closer so Dante could hear him better. Dante did the same, resting his arms against the edge of the counter. “We don't sell out our own, motherfucker. Now, get out before I call the Enforcers.”

  Dante nodded with a smirk, brushing his tongue against his teeth in frustration. “See, that just doesn't work for me.”

  Dante's hand shot over the bar, grasping the Minotaur's horns and slamming his face into the counter. The altercation remained hidden from the rest of the club, visible only to those in the immediate vicinity who scrambled to get out of the way.

  The Minotaur's eyes widened in shock, and Dante swiftly pulled the demon's weapon from his waist, laying it on the stool beside him.

  Before the Minotaur could straighten, Dante yanked his horns back down, pinning him to the table. The demon's face contorted in pain and anger. Dante produced a serrated blade from his hip and plunged it into the counter, the blade biting deep into the surface just inches from the Minotaur's nose.

  “I'm only going to ask once more.” He leaned down to his level so he was the only one who heard his clipped question. “How. Do I. Find Jax?”

  The bartender and patrons glared at Dante, but none dared to step forward, their eyes fixed on the weapons visible beneath his open coat.

  “Jax meets with Shadowhands near the new Eclipse club.” He grunted at the force of Dante pressing his face into the dark wood. “Find a Shadowhand. Find the Caster.”

  “Where?” Dante pressed his horns harder, focusing on keeping him pinned but not ripping them out.

  “Three blocks down.” He grimaced. “Damned place is taking my business.”

  Dante nodded curtly, beckoning the barhand closer. The Faun hesitated, then complied, his eyes darting nervously between Dante and his boss.

  "Point one out," Dante demanded in a low, even tone. "I know one's gotta be here tonight."

  The Faun's gaze dropped to his boss, then snapped back to Dante's hand, which gripped the blade's handle.

  "Don't fucking look at him, look at me," Dante growled, his voice low and menacing. The Faun's terrified gaze locked onto Dante's face, and his shaking hand rose, pointing towards the back of the room.

  The female Nymphs were still dancing, oblivious to the tense scene unfolding at the bar. Most of the patrons hadn't noticed anything out of the ordinary, and Dante preferred it that way.

  He nodded in silent appreciation and yanked his knife from the wood before letting the owner go.

  “Goddamn halfbreed bastard.” He heard the owner curse after him and Dante raised his hand with a vulgar action while he stalked towards where the boy had pointed.

  The women didn't stop their grind when Dante entered their space, but he did earn a few furious glances from the recipients.

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  “Nexarian vials,” Dante demanded between the three men seated on different parts of the large curved couch.

  As the others looked away, Dante's gaze locked onto the man with the undercut, his dark-dyed symbols etched into the sides of his head. The punk's style screamed "syndicate lackey" to Dante.

  With a gentle yet firm touch, Dante pulled the woman off his lap, disregarding her and the punk's protests. He grabbed the Shadowhand by his black, distressed denim jacket, and the man put up a brief struggle, his outrage evident in the faint, light blue glow spreading through the veins in his arms and hands.

  "Nice party trick," Dante said, his voice laced with sarcasm.

  He pinned the Shadowhand's arms behind his back, controlling him as he pushed him out the back of the bar.

  In the secluded alley, Dante released him, roughly slamming his body into the wall.

  “You have no idea who you're fucking with, bro," the Shadowhand repeated for the sixth time, a hint of amusement creeping into his voice as he took in Dante's restraint.

  To Dante, he was just a convenient punching bag. He could have snapped his spine, but he knew the Shadowhand couldn't reveal Jax's location if he was dead. So, Dante chose a different approach.

  As the Shadowhand stood, the glow in his veins finally reached his neck, transforming his feline pupils into glowing blue orbs. Dante's hand shot out, grasping the Shadowhand's throat and lifting him off the ground with ease. His face flashed with fear, his eyes flickering as the blue glow died out. His hands grasped at Dante's arm, pounding pitifully as he struggled to break free.

  “Jax," Dante snarled, his voice low and menacing as he struggled to keep his demon essence in check. His canines lengthened, and the air around them began to crackle with tension. "You're going to tell me where he is," he growled, his words barely contained, "and maybe, just maybe, I won't kill you."

  The Shadowhand thrashed against Dante's unyielding grip, his legs flailing wildly as he struggled to break free. Dante increased the pressure on his neck, his fingers digging deep into the skin. The Shadowhand's body began to sag, his eyes rolling back, before Dante finally released him. He crumpled to the ground, gasping for air as he clutched his throat.

  As he scrambled backward, his voice was hoarse and barely audible.

  "The Eclipse," he choked out, pausing to catch his breath. "The Crimson Eclipse. He's… in the back… at a high-stakes table."

  Dante's gaze bored into the Shadowhand's, his eyes seeming to burn with an inner intensity.

  "If you're lying," he growled, his voice low and deadly, "you won't leave this alley alive."

  The Shadowhand's eyes darted back and forth, his face pale and sweaty, as he struggled to catch his breath. Dante's words hung in the air like a promise, a warning that he would not hesitate to follow through on his threat.

  “No.” He choked and coughed out angrily. “It's the truth, fuck him.”

  Dante nodded. "And your ride?"

  The Shadowhand hesitated, and Dante's patience wore thin. He grabbed the man's ankle, dangling him in mid-air, and the Shadowhand's screams echoed through the alley, drawing unwanted attention. The action seemed to focus him, and he fumbled for his keys, his hands shaking as he struggled to hit the fob. He managed to catch it before it fell to the ground, and the lights on a sleek vehicle across from the bar flickered to life.

  Dante snatched the keys and dropped the Shadowhand, who landed with a thud, gasping for air. Without another glance, Dante turned and walked away, leaving the Shadowhand to struggle to his feet. He made his way to the car, its lines gleaming in the dim light, and slid into the driver's seat.

  Back at his drop point, he gathered the men, their faces set with determination. They listened intently as Dante outlined the plan to retrieve Jax, their questions and doubts simmering just below the surface. But they knew better than to ask about the car or the missing bike. Their sole focus was on completing their mission in the Nether.

  There was most likely going to be some muscle guarding the door that Dante would take out. Normally there were at least four players at a table. Depending on the demons, they'd probably be unarmed, because why have weapons when you are the weapon?

  He pulled the car around to the back of the black-bricked building with the words Crimson Eclipse in bright red neon lights above it. There were two entrances, and after a moment, a cook came out in an apron and sloshed some chunky liquid out of the second.

  “That one.” He instructed, pointing to the first door. “Leave the bag.”

  Dante was certain Arcturus wasn't inside, just the informant they needed. Alive. Every minute they spent in the Nether was a minute Eva couldn't afford to lose. They exited the car and sprinted to the door. Dante exchanged a brief glance with his two companions, then motioned for one to take position behind him and the other to cover the opposite side of the door.

  With his gun at the ready, Dante rapped twice on the door. The small rectangle at eye level slid open, and Dante swiftly jammed his gun into the opening, firing two precise shots.

  There was the sound of commotion in the room as the body fell back with a thud and Dante brutally kicked in the door. They walked in, guns still drawn, and looked around the room at the four Malevolent scrambling from the card table. Jax was among them and didn't look nearly as surprised to see the demon hunter as the others. The bastard.

  , Dante had to keep reminding himself. He needed him alive.

  “Listen up, fellas," Dante said, his voice firm as he, Monroe, and Lowell trained their guns on the demons scattered around the room. He caught sight of one of the high rollers, a woman, and nodded in her direction. "And lady."

  Dante wasn't about to let his hunting instincts be swayed by outdated chivalry. He was an equal-opportunity killer, after all. The demons, meanwhile, tossed around the same chorus of angry and disgusted curses, just in different fonts.

  Demon scum, halfbreed bastard demon, traitorous abomination… he'd heard it all and his infamy amongst the group made him smile. Darkly.

  “Fantastic, glad we got introductions out of the way.” He assessed his options in the room quickly. Two goons left and four various demons; a bender, two Caster's, and the woman he wasn't too sure about. So he tried for the calmer route, though he was anything but calm. “I'm only here” –he nudged his gun towards Jax– “for him. The rest of you” –he looked to the others in the room– “are free to go. Safely back to your family, business, or what the fuck have you. You have five seconds to decide.”

  One of the goons decided to lash out and Dante was willing to bet his last Chimera scale he belonged to Jax. When he rushed for Monroe, both he and Dante fired their weapons three times into the abnormally large goblin's chest.

  When he fell back, dead, Dante pointed his gun back towards the four. “Two seconds.”

  Their gazes flickered towards Jax for a brief moment before they accepted the deal. Dante maintained his aim on the lone Caster, while Monroe and Lowell trained their guns on the four demons scrambling to escape. The demons made a frantic dash for the door at the back of the room, disappearing into the depths of the building, where the muffled music grew louder.

  “What do you want to bet the goon was his?” Dante asked of Monroe who only shook his head, all business. He gave his attention back to Jax. “He was yours right?”

  “Fuck you” –Dante fired a warning shot at his feet to cut him off but he didn't flinch. Instead, his hands began to glow just like Arcturus,’, but instead of deep blue, the misty fire that danced between his ash-black fingers was green. He tossed a couple of fireballs their way, which they dodged but was just enough distraction for him to slip out the same way the others had left.

  “Seriously, Dante?” Monroe gripped.

  “Yeah, yeah, I got it.” He grunted, rubbing his head with the handle of his gun in an attempt to soothe his growing headache. “Get the rope.”

  He holstered his weapon and removed the knife he needed as he ran after Jax.