Dante

  "Where were you?" Monroe tried to compose himself, but Dante noticed his body language change from worried Eva had been killed by one demon, to terrified and infuriated at the thought she may have been taken by the halfbreed bastard.

  Dante wasn't sure if Eva even noticed, probably busy with her own racing thoughts, but Dante sneered at the man, tone laced with malice. "With . Where the fuck were ?"

  "After left me on the street–" he snarled and Dante ignored Monroe's death glare. He looked to Eva who seemed to snap out of her fluster. "I tried to come after you."

  "Crap, I'm so glad you're okay." She left Dante's side to fret over Monroe and Dante stifled the frustrated growl he felt rise in his throat. "Oh, God, your head."

  When she reached him and tried to touch the sticky blood on his temple, Monroe's face scrunched with disgust. "Jesus, what is that smell? The smaller one didn't smell this awful."

  Eva backed away from him, face flushed with embarrassment again, and Dantes's blood boiled as he rose from his chair though he kept his boots planted to his little piece of Earth. For Monroe's sake.

  How dare he insult her after what she'd been through.

  He voiced his thoughts in what he tried as calm and collected, but Eva's tense shoulders and Monroe's clenched fists told him it came out far more dangerous. Good.

  Not good for appearance's sake.

  BUT FUCKING GOOD.

  FUCK HIM.

  The fucking coglione.

  He seemed far more concerned with her and Dante, than with the fight for her life she'd just been in.

  "I worried about her," Monroe said through gritted teeth, shoulders squared. "After Lowell and I drew the smaller one away from the street – instead of finding the pedestrians like we are to do – we immediately started to look for you but you were gone. When we came across the body, we weren't sure what to think."

  "Body?” Eva questioned. "You already found the one that took me?"

  He seemed confused, but Dante wasn't. Despite the time, the city streets were never completely empty. With two Serpaxos loose there were bound to be witnesses… casualties. It was probably the cause of the four patrol cars roaming the area.

  "No, Eva. A girl. Young woman." He corrected. "She got caught in the crossfire. The smaller one just went after her. Picked her up and just – it crushed her.”

  Eva's hands flew to her mouth, her eyes welling up with tears as shock washed over her face. Her distress tugged at Dante, but he remained still, mindful of Monroe's watchful gaze.

  "Lowell?" Eva's voice was a panicked whisper. "Is he okay? Where is he?"

  Monroe's expression was grim. "He's still out looking for you. I came back to check if you'd gotten free." He handed her phone over, and she quickly dialed her brother.

  "We called your parents," Monroe continued. "They're on their way." Eva groaned, and Dante knew her parents were likely in a panic. "And Simon, too," Monroe added, earning a low groan from Dante. His decision to stay the night to keep an eye on her only added to Dante's frustration.

  As Eva spoke to her brother Lowell, relief washed over her face. The conversation with her parents was more strained, but she managed to talk them down, explaining the apartment was safe thanks to Dante's efforts. Still, they insisted Simon would come to help. Once Eva had calmed her family, she returned to the kitchen, worry etched on her face.

  "I don't know how much longer we can keep doing this," Eva said, her gaze avoiding his. For a moment, Dante's heart ached with a different interpretation, but he realized her concern was for others, not herself.

  Monroe's voice chimed in from the living room, "People are getting suspicious. It's getting harder to Nyx so many civilians."

  Eva's face twisted in disgust.

  "People are ," she whispered, her true fear evident. Dante knew she'd been spared the worst, and he was grateful for that. It was one less burden on her conscience.

  It had been the only reason Dante had mentioned placing a protection talisman on her neighbor. They'd snuck it into his wallet the night they'd Nyxed him, hopefully protecting him from harm. And protecting Eva's mental health from another "friend's" death.

  "I might have found a lead," he offered, hoping to give her some solace. "Nothing concrete yet, just whispers of a possible Primordial return. Some are hiding. Some are kissing ass. But that's not out of the norm for Malevolent."

  “Any word on who's actually sending these things?"

  "No.” He sighed. "But I won't stop looking."

  Eva's eyes lit up with hope, and he wanted to hold onto that spark but Monroe's sarcasm cut through the moment, "Oh, please take your time."

  Dante's body jerked to rush the imbecile, but Eva's touch calmed him.

  "Thank you," she said, her smile tentative. "I appreciate you trying."

  Behind her, Dante could see Monroe's head move mockingly and when Dante's fist clenched, Eva jumped from her seat with concern etched on her face.

  “Geez, Your shoulder!” She rummaged through her box, intent on tending to his wound. “Oh, my god. I’m so dumb."

  Dante's gaze met hers, his injuries momentarily forgotten in the face of her worry. "I'm fine, Evanora."

  Dante's gaze dropped to his arm. The wound from the curved tooth was already beginning to close, the edges of the wound knitting together as his body rapidly mended. However, the bullet wound was still a pressing concern. He knew removing the bullet was crucial if he wanted to recover fully.

  As he reached for the bullet with dirty fingers, Eva swiftly intervened, swatting his hand away with a stern expression.

  "Sit still," she ordered, and to both his and Monroe's surprise, he complied.

  She produced tweezers from her box, her face apologetic.

  "Just do it." He looked away, preparing for the pain of the burning bullet.

  She nearly straddled him again but decided against it to his dismay. Eva positioned herself beside him, her hand on his shoulder. Steadying herself or him; he wasn't sure which.

  Her proximity was intoxicating, and he couldn't help but tease her.

  “Do you know what you're doing?" His voice was low, seductive, and she shot him a playful glare, her mouth flattening into a line.

  As she focused on the task, he pretended to flinch before she could make contact, jerking his body in mock pain. Eva gasped before narrowing her eyes. A smirk played on her lips as she realized he was only fucking with her. "Do you want my help or not?"

  Dante's silence was deliberate, his body craving what was taken from him so prematurely. He wanted to recapture the moment they'd shared earlier, but he knew it was fleeting. For now, he'd settle for her closeness, her soft hands on his shoulder.

  Taking his silence as approval, she tried again, this time hesitating just before entering. Their eyes met, and he found himself lost in the nervous bite of her lip. He wanted to be the one nibbling on that lip.

  this woman, he thought. What spell had she cast over him?

  The sharp pinch of the tweezers brought Dante back to the moment, but he remained still, not wanting to worry her. As she worked, their eyes met repeatedly, and he was struck by the intensity of her focus and concern for his well-being.

  The pain was manageable, but watching her bite that lip, brow furrowed in concentration... was a different kind of agony.

  Nearly as painful as having her this close and not being able to do any-fucking-thing about it.

  His inseam tightened and he shifted uncomfortably.

  She tensed, nearly pulling out, but his hand was on hers quickly to keep her digging.

  Her gaze flicked to his crotch before returning to his face, curiosity etched on her features, and he gave her a wink. "I'm a sadomasochist."

  Eva's amused shake of the head didn't deter her from her task.

  He released her hand, knowing there was only so much Monroe was going to allow, and even as he thought that sentence he wanted to kill him. It shouldn’t matter what the Reaper . He should be grateful Dante him to continue breathing.

  He tried to calm himself for Eva's sake but it wasn't Dante's fault the Reaper had such a punchable face.

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  When Dante felt her get closer to her target, he looked away to prevent from distracting her. Finally, after a few more careful maneuvers, she extracted the bullet, and it clattered to the floor.

  She released a breath he hadn't known she'd been holding and smiled at her own victory.

  "Don't get too cocky." He teased with a whisper just for her.

  "I won't if you won't." She quipped back just as silently, gaze flicking back down to the obvious bulge in his pants.

  "I'll show you cocky," he mumbled for her ears only. When she reached over him to grab the peroxide from the box her body was at just the right angle to block the Reaper's view, letting Dante steal another moment with her.

  His fingers linger on the soft skin of her exposed stomach and she stayed frozen longer than she needed. The bottle was already gripped in her hand.

  But he knew they couldn't stay that way. So he released the hold he had on her body with his gentle caress.

  She'd also grabbed the towel from earlier and while she cleaned his wound, he moved the box to cover his pulsing erection.

  "Okay." She sighed as if her job were done. "That's it. You're on your own, I don't know how to sew flesh."

  "Can you sew a button?" he questioned seeing the sewing supplies in the box. Stitching himself up wasn't necessary, while the wound would take longer to heal because of the iron, he’d stab himself a thousand times over just to have her touch him again. Anything to keep her close.

  "Hmm." Her face scrunched in slight embarrassment as she shook her head. "Yes, but no, I'm sorry. I'm not hurting you anymore tonight."

  .

  She left him to shower and as the bathroom door closed behind her, Dante's gaze lingered on the space she'd occupied, the phantom warmth of her body still resonating in the air.

  With a quiet curse, he turned his attention to the bullet wound. He threaded the needle with a steady hand, the motion a grim reminder of the control he needed to maintain.

  The needle pierced his skin, and Dante's jaw clenched as he stitched the wound closed. The jabbing motion was almost rhythmic, a distraction from the thoughts swirling in his mind. He worked with precision, each stitch a testament to his determination to keep himself together. To keep himself seated, instead of snapping the Reaper's neck and joining Eva under the water he could hear running over her.

  As he tied off the final knot, Dante's focus remained fixed on the task, his mind a battleground of conflicting desires. The real challenge wasn't the physical wound; it was the emotional one, the one that threatened to unravel him with every glance, every touch.

  After what seemed like a goddamn eternity, she emerged from the bathroom, filling their space with the smell of her blueberry shampoo. He scolded himself for finally seeking out the source of what had been tempting him for days, but liked his suspicions of her enjoying blueberries were confirmed.

  She walked past the kitchen entrance and Dante stopped breathing at her boldness. He watched as Monroe stared wide-eyed at her towel ensemble, one wrapped completely around her body revealing long limbs and the other covering her wet hair, before his gaze finally landed on Dante with angry disbelief.

  Dante thought.

  "It's her apartment." He stated instead. "We're just guests."

  He heard when her door closed, and with her finally putting on clothes, he began cleaning up.

  He was setting the first aid box on the living room table when Lowell finally showed up, bursting through the apartment. He skidded to a stop when he came across a shirtless Dante.

  Lowell took in all of Dante's tattoos and fresh scars before demanding his sister's whereabouts.

  He nodded towards her bedroom door and Lowell rushed in. Without knocking.

  Eva's shriek came from the other side, along with some profanities, when she realized it was her brother barging in while she was changing.

  Lowell was frozen for only a moment before apologizing profusely and slamming the door.

  But it was long enough for Dante to get a good view inside of her room. It was just sheer luck she stood in his eyeline, the same spot she'd teased him with the previous night. She'd only been in a black sports bra and what she'd call boy shorts, but Dante would call ass-grabbers. Her back had been to them before whirling in embarrassment, revealing her burn. Dante had locked eyes with her, not realizing how much of her it actually covered.

  "Could have told me she was half naked." When Lowell turned to Dante, his expression was uncomfortable.

  Dante shrugged with a mumble of how he hadn't asked.

  She came out a few moments later fully clothed, wet hair still wrapped in her towel, questioning his rush.

  "I'm fine." She tried to brush his hands away.

  He’d gone to inspect her, though didn’t get the extent of her wounds with her long sleeves and baggy sweats. He probably would have gotten a better view if he'd lingered longer when the door was open.

  Dante had. He’d taken a mental snapshot. Not of her curves in what he'd once teased as unmentionables, though that would be useful later. No, he'd taken note of each bruise, each cut, and vowed to himself he'd do the same to whoever, whatever was behind these attacks.

  Death would come slowly. Their final breath would be agony and he'd bring back its head as an offering. So she'd know she no longer had to fear the darkness that haunted her dreams.

  "Why didn't it kill you?" Lowell's question echoed Dante's earlier thoughts, and Eva's response was a quiet shrug.

  He turned to Dante and posed the question again.

  "Not sure," Dante grumbled and filled him in on his earlier reconnaissance. Not every detail, just the potential lead.

  "I think I should stay, too." Lowell removed his jacket and placed it beside Dante's on the back of the couch.

  "And what exactly are gonna do?" She questioned doubtfully with a cross of her arms and wincing when it probably ached her ribs.

  "Let's hope he's a better shot." Dante's comment earned a sneer from Eva, but her brother's worried expression demanded an explanation.

  Eva gave another wince, though this time it was rueful. "I, um, kind of shot Dante. By accident though!"

  “She also took these." Dante produced the tiny bottle from his pants pocket and tossed it to Lowell who caught it reflexively.

  Monroe jumped from his seat with shock and indignance. "You little thief, how'd you–"

  "You've answered your own damn question, coglione." Dante snapped his fingers towards the Reaper in a way that demanded he return to his seated position.

  Dante hadn't forgotten about his lingering gaze on Eva's legs.

  The room fell quiet with his demand and Lowell exchanged a concerned look between his sister and her former suitor.

  Monroe didn't do as he was told, not to Dante's surprise, the Brief was a headstrong idiot.

  He thought back to what he'd watched between the Reaper and Evanora on their “date”. Not how he'd wanted to break the hand that she'd once tenderly held. No, he'd obviously said something to upset her at dinner and was too stupid to realize her standoffish demeanor.

  Even when she'd followed him to his car before the attack. Dante had watched Eva increasingly become uncomfortable with their conversation.

  He wasn't sure what was said but he knew he didn't like the Reaper. Not just for his forced advancements on what was now his, but because Reapers were the real – what had Eva called her idiot brother? A vigilante wants to be?

  Monroe continued his standoff with Dante, as if weighing his options, until finally he huffed and stalked out of the apartment.

  "What have I missed?" Lowell questioned, causing Dante to shrug in response.

  "You sure know how to pick ‘em." Dante gave Eva a forced smile and when she narrowed her eyes at him, he wasn't sure if she was actually upset.

  He decided he didn't care.

  It was for her own good. The Reaper had never been the right choice for her anyway.

  Was he really any better for her, though?

  All he could offer in her life was danger and chaos. Not to mention his own darkness that threatened to consume him. Could someone as vibrant and innocent as Eva truly be happy with someone like him?

  The thought made him falter, but he pushed it from his mind as he watched the two siblings set up the living room for guests.

  With so many eyes, Dante could possibly get some sleep.

  He'd already messaged his errand boy to drop off spare clothes since he'd be tossing the ones he was wearing. Now that Eva smelt amazing he'd been the only one stinking up her home.

  He left her in her brother's capable hands, before returning with his things and immediately showering.

  By the time he'd finished, Eva had shut everything down. She and her brother were nestled on her queen mattress, door ajar just in case. Monroe hadn't returned, to Dante's satisfaction, and he hoped he wouldn't be back. Ever.

  Eva had again left a pillow and blanket for him on the couch that he probably wouldn't use now that it was just him and the smarter brother keeping watch.

  He took his normal post on the windowsill and waited for morning.

  “Eva?" Dante nearly took a step forward at Lowell's hushed tone, but her half-yawned response kept him still.

  "Yeah?" He could hear her shift in bed but her brother didn't respond. "What's up?"

  Again, silence and eventually a wearied breath from him along with an apology.

  Dante's face scrunched as his hand hovered above his gun in preparation. Along with clothes, he'd instructed the boy to bring his spare duffle of weapons knowing the Keeper's sponging the scene probably wouldn't release the ones he'd lost in battle until tomorrow. And he'd felt naked without them.

  When she questioned the apology, it was a moment before he spoke again, and Dante wished the boy would just spit it out. He was sure Eva did, too. He doubted she'd ever had to fight that hard and he knew she had to be exhausted.

  "For, um, that night?” Dante's body went impossibly still, his entire focus on Eva's response as her brother's words hung in the air. He strained to hear her every move, every sound, as she shifted in bed. "We wouldn't have left you. We leave you on purpose. You know that, right?"

  Her brother's words seemed to reverberate through the space, and Dante's anticipation hung on her reply.

  Again, Eva's silence prompted him to continue, his words spilling out in a rush. "That night… Simon and I were messing around with demon cards in our room – no, let me explain. Okay? Please? It's been eating at me. I need to say this, okay? Simon stole the cards and we were, um, playing with some demons. One lost and they thought Simon cheated. I-I don't know if he did, but–”

  He let out a deep sigh again. “They got pissed and the fire just happened. I'm so sorry, Eva. We think about it all the time. How if we hadn't–”

  “It's in the past.” When she cut him off, it was a bit quieter, so Dante assumed she'd given him her back, probably not wanting to relive it. Especially after tonight. Dante knew she was trying to make her voice sound strong, but it wavered. For just a moment. He wondered if the brother had heard it, too. “It was nothing you could do. We were kids. If I spent my entire life thinking about who could have done what differently… I'd be callous."

  He gave another quiet apology, voice cracked, weighed down by guilt and regret.

  The silence that followed was oppressive. Dante worked to keep his cool while he focused his attention on the street, waiting for the next cop to patrol, but he couldn't keep his new disdain for the Oswald boy down.

  He'd been the reason for the fire.

  Accident or not, he owed Simon Oswald another broken nose.

  Or arm.

  Or neck.

  Sometime in the night, Dante had unintentionally drifted to sleep after taking a seat on Eva's uncomfortable couch. He'd only meant to close his eyes to soothe his growing headache. His body always ached after the essence took hold. That, combined with his time in the Nether, the brawl, and his anxiety over nearly losing Eva… he couldn't deny he was exhausted.

  He did, fortunately, wake only an hour later. Rubbing his face in his hands, he listened for both the siblings in the other room but stilled when he only heard one person's light snoring. And it wasn't Evanora's.

  He crept silently through the small apartment, first checking her room to make sure she hadn't somehow perished from her wounds in the night, but her bed only held a sprawled twin. Her closet was also empty. Kitchen: empty. And he'd just been in the living room.

  She couldn't have been stupid enough to leave the apartment, was she?

  He stalked towards the last room, the bathroom located between the kitchen and the hallway leading to the front door. Before he even entered, he could hear her light breathing on the other side, and his heart stopped racing.

  Quietly, he opened the door, but he wasn't expecting to find her curled on the floor wrapped in a blanket. It was pulled over most of her head but opened on her face so she could breathe. Surrounding her head, like a halo, were crumpled tissues.

  Gently, he slid his arms under her, trying not to wake her but failing. She stilled in his arms, though didn't open her eyes. Her face was visible now that she was in his arms and he could see a reddish tint to her nose and how puffy her eyes were.

  He didn't reveal he knew she was awake. Instead, he brought her to her couch where she could be next to him and hopefully more comfortable than lying on the floor.

  After pulling the blanket up on her shoulders, he took a new post at the foot of the couch facing the hallway leading to the exit.

  She mumbled a thank you that was followed by a quiet sniffle she tried to stifle and Dante knew he was definitely going to break his promise to her.

  The idiot twin was dead.