The last demon fell to his blade. Silence once again drifted over the ruined city. The two reunited, the woman surprising her man by intertwining her fingers in his hand. Once again, the gruesome blue flesh glowed a pleasant gold, a symbol of their union.
The view was truly beautiful. Already, the sun was halfway below the horizon, bathing everything in its golden light. From this point on, it would be only the two of them. No more living blindly under lies. Whatever the future held for them would be decided by their actions.
Lady killed the engine to her bike, then dismounted the warm seat, grabbing the case from the back. She wore a clean, freshly pressed blazer, the same white pinstriped one she wore the last time she visited. Somewhere in the distance, a siren wailed deeper in the bowels of the city. She had just got back from a job, and gotten word that Dante was back.
The bright red neon lights that advertised Devil May Cry flickered dully. Lady pushed through the tall double doors, the small briefcase in her left hand, Kalina Ann across her back. The jukebox greeted her, this time with a slower tune that she found much more appealing.
She found Dante right where she expected him to be: slouched behind his desk. This time he was reading the latest issue of Two Handgun, one of those smutty magazines of chicks with guns. Dante claimed that he read it for the articles.
"You're a lifesaver," Lady admitted as she clumped over the wooden floor to his desk, then set the case in front of him. "Now I can finally do my job in peace."
Dante only grunted in response, too absorbed in what he was reading or looking at. Silently, Trish floated in from the back, then nimbly spun and sat on the edge of the desk, once again donning skimpy tight leather. She eyed the case expectantly, then gave Lady a wary look. She only grinned in return.
Trish's brow furrowed in annoyance when she opened the case. Lady could tell why. Inside, she'd packed a single roll of bills, probably a couple thousand at most. She really didn't count that carefully. But it was exactly what was fair for them. It was supposed to be an easy job, but look what happened.
Trish picked up the small roll of bills between her thumb and forefinger, as if it were fetid, her nose bunching in disgust. "If it was a lifesaver gig, then don't you think we deserve a little more?" She wagged the bills at Lady. "You call this sincerity?"
Lady's eyes narrowed behind her sunglasses. Now Trish was just pissing her off. She leaned forward, no longer caring that if Dante looked, he'd probably get the full show. Her only concern was the blond bitch in front of her and her ungrateful ass.
"More?" she hissed. "Was it not your fault that things escalated to the level that they did? Bringing Sparda into the spotlight?"
Trish swelled in indignation, her own crystal blue eyes narrowing in return. Simultaneously, they both got it. Why were they bickering with each other when the real problem lay elsewhere? They both turned to look at Dante.
Oblivious, he looked up from his magazine, an innocent look on his face. When he saw the looks on both of their faces, he got it, then quickly looked back to the literature, raising it to hide his face. The pained look on his face showed he knew exactly what was coming. He was thwarted in his attempt when Trish snatched it out of his hands and tossed it to the desktop.
"Hey!" he protested, "I was just getting to the good part!"
"This is your case too, Dante," Trish informed him.
"Yeah well, we take what we can get right?" he said lazily, then picked up the magazine again. Trish sighed in exasperation.
"Well," Lady crowed, then straightened. "Then it's settled."
She gave a flick of a wave, then began to leave, hiking her rocket launcher further up on her shoulder and thoroughly enjoying the venomous look that Trish was shooting Dante. But before she could leave, the antique phone sitting on the desk began to ring. What made her stop, she'll never know.
Trish snatched the handset. "'Devil May Cry'," she answered in a sugary voice, then listened. She lowered it, pressing the mouthpiece to her bust, all trace of anger gone. "It's a customer with the password. They're nearby..." She grinned. "What should we do?"
Dante returned her grin, then slammed the magazine shut. "You need to ask?" In a flash, he was on his feet, tucking his coat behind him in a red wave. He grabbed his guns from his desk, then his sword, Rebellion, from the rack behind him, slinging it over his back. He twirled Ivory casually around a forefinger as he headed to the door.
"Can I come along?" Lady asked. The rest of her night was free, and she was bored as hell. Dante shrugged and brushed by her.
"Do what you like, but don't expect to get paid!"
Lady smirked. Fair enough. "There's something so exciting about all of this..." She looked over her shoulder to Trish. "You think so, right?"
The blond woman stopped beside her. "I won't lie..."
Dante stopped at the door, then looked to the two armed women. "Okay, are you ready?" Both of them nodded. With a whip of his coat, he thrust his leg forward, kicking the doors to his shop open. "Then come on, babes..."