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MONSTER	By : Radius Category: +A through F > Devil May Cry Views: 10988 -:- Recommendations : 1 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own the Devil May Cry game series, nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
- 7
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A/N: Sorry for the delay guys. This chapter has always been a favorite of mines (yay, the tables turn and Seth grows some balls! XP ). I thought I had it all figured it out. Then I started editing it and realized I needed to add more content. I also needed to make sure it didn’t have a negative chain effect on the other chapters. I think I’m happy with it. I’ve moved up the introduction of an important character, even. Any later, and it would’ve seemed he was tacked on or something. XP As for you sex fiends out there just skimming through the paragraphs and are wondering, when the hell is the next yaoi scene???? XP LOL, don’t worry. The mid part of this story is *fast* approaching and it’s really heavy with it. I’m deliberately curbing these types of scenes right now… while I still have a plot to hold onto. O_o But man, it’s sooooo tempting! I mean… club scenes are the perfect place to get down and dirty. And with Dante not having action in the past few days due to ongoing arguments and that stunt he pulled last chapter, you gotta imagine how frisky those two are starting to get.

Dante: Screw this waiting. Seth, meet me at the back.

Seth: Babe, I’m so there.

Shame on you two! Get back here! No fun-fun until two chapters from now! (Already hears moaning and spanking)…

O_o

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<< | You’ve made Your Point | >>

A male’s voice spoke through the meat factory’s intercom. It sounded bored and distant, even when its words spoke of being productive and enthusiastic. Many of the workers, however, ignored it and went about their business. Wearing white overalls, a plastic coat over it, hard hats, and plastic glasses, the factory employees were busy inspecting and transporting many meat products. Surrounding them was vicious, steel machinery that constantly whirled alive. With belts rotating and sharp blades swinging in various directions, they sliced and categorized. The meat factory was large, divided into three sections with two floor levels and a basement. Only a skylight window in the second division of the factory reminded workers there was life outside empty cadavers and horrible luminescent lighting. In the meantime, they had to tolerate the smell of raw meat and the sight of juicy blood.

In a room where the temperature was cold enough to form ice and puffs of cool air with each exhale, heavy animal cadavers hung lifelessly. There were six rows with ten bodies on each line. The chains supporting them jingled each time workers lifted and locked the stacks of meat in place. At the far end of the third row, two men inspected the frozen remains of a cow and pig. Behind them was a large, black man.

He was somewhere in his forties with fresh outlines between his thick brows and cheeks. His mustache was gray and there was a gang of coarse stubble hair forming on his double chin. He was a somewhat husky man, with big arms and round belly. Neither attractive nor repulsive, his dark brown eyes seemed always alert while the thick lips appeared trained to smile.

He removed a cadaver from its chains with both arms, moving it toward a metal cart nearby. Shortly later, he retrieved a second one. He grunted as he dropped it on the metal surfacing, a sharp pang-like sound soon echoing loudly in the frigid cold room.

                “Lance?” one of the two inspectors asked, slightly confused.

                “Defective,” was all the other man said.

“Really? I thought those two checked out okay.”

“They’re defective, sir.”

Before the inspector spoke again, the big black man started wheeling away the two cadavers. He navigated through several large rooms, all filled with activity and conversations. He kept to himself, only nodding to his superiors. None of them acknowledged his existence and simply walked past him. It didn’t matter to Lance, since that was a common practice. He kept traveling deeper into the factory and eventually reached a long corridor that ended with a gigantic freight elevator. Two fellow coworkers followed him inside and requested what floor he wanted. Lance pushed his cart forward when the elevator’s doors opened at the basement level.

He always hated this area. It was old and dark, somehow overcast by a murky brown color. The concrete walls were patterned with cracks while the pipes above were rusty, randomly hissing with steam. Even with the series of lights that dashed across the ceiling, they didn’t do much to erase the overall gloominess of the basement. Managers constantly reassured their workers they were going to renovate this area soon. Yet, that kind of talk had been going on for many years. It was the lack of windows and maze-like feel that agitated many workers. Worse, getting lost. Despite directional signs, hallways intersected with other hallways and everything looked the same. One had to be an avid observer or a veteran worker to know his or her way around the basement level.

Being forced to work in the unknown with shadows everywhere, many workers avoided this area of the factory as best they could. It was a common thing to hear claims of ghost sightings. While Lance didn’t believe there were spirits haunting their workplace that still didn’t ease the tension building in his stomach. He found himself believing in a lot of things lately, some he had no right to believe in. Had someone told him that the world was truly round and filled with supernatural beings, he would’ve punched them in the face. Last month, however, his views changed and he was a different man because of it. Anything he didn’t believe in before, he found himself starting to believe in now. Who knew, maybe ghosts really were among them.

Lance carefully followed the signs and arrows, rolling his cart onward through the basement’s maze. He stopped when the long corridor he traveled through split into two different paths. Ahead, on the wall of an intersecting corridor, was a large sign with two arrows pointing at opposite directions. At the left: monitor room. At the right: disposable unit.

Lance took his meat products and went left.

***

                ICE. Beams of electric lights radiated across the dance floor of the popular night club, infamous for terrifying beauty and furious passion. Against a heavily white background, the music thumped loudly while hundreds of dancers waved neon-blue glow sticks. Among the club goers were six nine-feet-tall ice sculptures that were raised in platforms and enclosed in large glass cases. Each of them depicted exotic women carved provocative poses. Cool gases jetted upward, maintaining the low temperatures needed to sustain them. The glass was fogged and cold to the touch, but onlookers gazed at these ominous figures in awe. Even if the casual club hopper wasn’t much a dancer, they could find something to enjoy here.

The extraordinary works of art wasn’t the only highlight club ICE had to offer. There were the suspended human-sized glass prisms, each hung by thick cables and chains. They contained dancers who were brave enough to endure high heights and enclosed spaces. The glorious cells were accessed from a top platform that overlooked the club. Like a theme park ride, dancers stood in line as mechanics used controls to lower the cells and bring them back up after a song. On a precautionary note, several medics were on standby if the worse scenario became reality. So far, in the twenty years they’d been opened, there was only one incident.

Despite the implications of coolness, the atmosphere was fuzzy and intoxicated by smoke and the heat from moving bodies. Already accustomed to the frantic environment, the club’s waitresses calmly walked about. They were dressed in skimpy plastic see-through uniforms with only white underwear to conceal the sensitive areas. In addition, they wore white hair wigs and their skins were covered with ghost-white powder that sparkled. Each one beautiful and toned, the waitresses traveled back and forth from the dance floor to the bar located on the second floor.

The bar was always a crowded mess of people who shouted out their orders over the music. Made entirely of glass and mirrors, it was manned by five bartenders who dressed in silver uniforms and were covered in sparkling white powder. They met the demands of impatient customers without breaking a sweat. Drinkers and entertainment seekers alike applauded them whenever they tossed their bottles high up in the air, turned around, and grabbed them just in time to catch and pour the liquid into shot glasses. Surrounding the bar area was a series of white leather seats with round glass tables and booths. There, occupants watched, drank, and conversed.

Setting the tone of it all was the DJ, who was dressed in a sparkling silver suit and dancing to the beat of techno. Programming more upcoming tracks, he hollered to the crowd through his headset and earned a hearty and loud roar.

At a booth overlooking the dance floor, Dante drank his liquor. His silver hair made him easily blend with the crowd and, if he wanted to, he could’ve worn an all-white suit like everyone else was sporting. Still, he didn’t want to be mistaken for an employee and he absolutely despised conformity. A rebel without a cause, he went with a dark-crimson suit, matching it with a rich red dress shirt and a tie with black poker-dots.

Dante saw the irony in it all as he carefully observed the dancers and workers below, seeing most of them wear silver-haired wigs or dyed it white. Beyond this club, his natural hair made him stand out. People frowned at the color and didn’t know whether he was an attention seeker or a dumb-ass who accidentally bleached his hair. Now he was here, with the silver hair being an acceptable feature. It should’ve made him feel proud and content. But, again, he hated conformity.

Dante imagined himself sticking out like a sore thumb with his choice of clothes. He must’ve looked like a drop of blood among a sea of white. Grinning at that thought, the paranormal investigator figured he was programmed to fight the norms the very second his mother spat him out from her womb. No wonder he drove her and Vergil crazy all the time.

“Sorry for arriving horribly late,” Seth said as he approached his booth. “I missed my bus and I had to call a friend.”

Dante didn’t say anything. His eyes were too fixed on what Seth was wearing. Apparently, he wasn’t the only one that wanted to be distinguishable. His companion, with his eighties’ obsession, wore a dark purple suit with a lime green dress shirt and a yellow-red striped tie. And if that wasn’t bizarre enough, Seth dyed his entire hair, eyebrows, and eyelashes blue. The makeup was just as wild: orange mascara, red eye shadow, and yellow lipstick.

Wow. Just… wow, thought Dante. And to think he considered himself to be the outrageous one. Against Seth, he was highly conservative. Yet, by some miracle, chance, or power from above, Seth’s messy color palette came together. The risky color scheme was both tasteful and energetic, a true testament of Seth’s artistic talent. The man could write himself into any scenario and come out looking like a rock star. Even so, Dante was certainly glad Seth didn’t include the infamous ‘football-shoulder-pads’ of the eighties. He told himself never to bring it up; fearful his artistic and romantic man would take up the challenge and starting wearing them. Seth was already talking about shaving his head or making it into a Mohawk. Dante was prepared to fight him tooth and nail if he decided to go through with it.

As Seth situated himself in the booth, Dante slid him his drink. “Problems?”

“No.” Seth accepted his glass. “Nothing big. She’s just been expecting my call for a long time.”

“She?”

“A friend.”

Seth didn’t go any further and checked his jacket instead, making sure a folded sheet of paper was in a pocket. Then he took a gulp of the Jacquin Dante ordered for him. Wincing a bit, Seth looked around the club. His pale features were heightened by the atmosphere of white but his rosy blush cheeks kept some color in his face. Seth’s dark eyes gleamed against the beams of lights spraying the entire club.

“This really is incredible,” he said and watched one of the giant sculptures a few feet away. “I’ve never been to a place like this.”

“It’s one of the popular sites in town. I haven’t come here in ages.”

“Must be great to know your way around, though.”

“Yeah, I guess.” Dante studied Seth from across with a curious expression. “You told me you moved to town a month ago. In all that time, you didn’t know about this club?”

Seth’s face was an embarrassing one. In a low voice, he answered, “I spent the first weeks being homesick and having… regrets. I was basically a wreck and only went around my block. I’ve just begun looking at the rest of the city in search for gigs. But, I’ll admit, I’m overwhelmed. The city’s much bigger than what I originally thought.”

“Speaking of gigs, how’d last night’s go?”

Seth’s face lit up. “I wasn’t booed. They even sang to ‘I Wanna Be a Cowboy’.”

“Fuck me, you serious?”

“Yep.”

Dante smiled in disbelief, staring at an empty space. “Aw, man… roughnecks singing to ‘I Wanna Be a Cowboy’… That’s priceless. Damn, I wish I could’ve been there.”

“Oh, that’s right. You haven’t seen me perform on stage.”

“I figured you didn’t want me to come.”

“You’re my best critic, Dante. Of course I want you there.”

Dante tried not to look too appreciative of that comment, even when he felt his face flush a little. “So there weren’t any incidents. That’s great.”

“Well… uh…”

“What?” Dante noticed Seth’s face and his stomach twisted. “What happened?”

“The manager. He asked to see me after the show.”

“And?”

“He was being a real asshole. He wouldn’t give me my paycheck. He shoved it in his pants and demanded I give him a blowjob first.”

Dante’s eyes narrowed. It was just as he predicted. One way or another, that dress was going to cause trouble. Seth looked absolutely fuckable in it, even to a homophobic creep like Wolfgang Pack’s manager. The incident wasn’t really a shock but it did warrant a visit to the establishment in the near future. There was only one person who could receive the pleasures of Seth’s mouth. Anyone else was going to get a firm boot up their ass, he’d make sure of it.

“So what happened?” Dante asked, agitated. “Did you get down on him or what?”

Seth smiled a little. “I had to get my paycheck somehow, so I played along. I went on my knees, opened my mouth. And then tore off a ball with my teeth.”

Dante blinked once before erupting into hysteria. “No way, Seth, no fucking way.”

The other man nodded, smiling shyly. “Yeah, I did. I feel kinda bad but, whatever. After getting my check, I called the paramedics and told them he’d been bitten by a stray dog.” He shrugged at his own bullshit story. “Hey, at least he’s got more room in his boxer shorts now and it’s one less thing for him to shave. Man, those balls were hairy…”

Seth made a face of disgust while Dante could only shake his head.

“Son-of-a-bitch…” Dante’s mumbled a little serious. “I owe that guy an ass-kicking.”

Seth chuckled, feeling flattered.

“And speaking of owing people… you owe me a good fucking tonight. We haven’t screwed in awhile. Don’t think I forgot about the dress.”

“It’s already in the dry cleaners.”

“Then wear another one.”

Seth had to laugh. Just yesterday, Dante was making a huge fit about him wearing a dress. Now the man wanted him dolled up for tonight’s fuckfest. Not that he was complaining. With his body feeling irritably horny today, he was eager to get reacquainted with Dante’s member.

“By the way, I’m curious why you were homesick,” the other man suddenly said.

“Hmmm?”

“You mentioned a few moments ago you had a tough time adjusting to the new scenery. Where’d you live before coming here?”

Grinning, Seth replied, “Ah, Dante, you sneaky bastard. I thought we had this conversation before.”

Dante briefly smiled before drinking more from his glass. He was completely silent now. Seth noticed the change of mood and sighed. It was funny how Dante acted like a spoil brat when things didn’t go his way. Seth gazed at the hollering sounds of people emerging from the bar area. The bartenders were twirling their bottles like batons. He wanted to go closer and see them with Dante but knew he couldn’t. He was in one of his pissy investigator modes again. Seth hoped to find its ‘off’ switch one day.

“I came from Rome,” Seth answered at last. “And that’s all I need to mention.”

“Rome?” Dante looked up from his glass. “Interesting. Were you born there too?”

Seth nodded. “And how about you? Where are you from?”

Dante shrugged. “It doesn’t matter.”

“What?” He frowned. “I have to tell you about myself, but you don’t have to tell me about yourself? You still haven’t told me about your pendant. That hardly seems fair.”

“Life’s not fair. But hey, it wasn’t like I held a gun to your head, now did I?”

Dante laughed at his own joke.

Seth only rolled his eyes. “You can be a bastard.”

“Moi? A bastard?” The other man grinned, his luminescent blue eyes glowing. “I suppose you’re right. I can be a real devil sometimes.”

“So the two-way street doesn’t work for you?”

“Not all the time, it doesn’t. I get what I want and that’s that.”

“And relationships? Is it the same way with you too?”

Laughing, Dante answered, “Maybe. I don’t know. It’ll certainly explain why I haven’t had any long lasting relationships. I’ve had ten girlfriends accuse me of being selfish.”

“I can see why.”

“Well, I’m just being honest with you, Seth. I don’t do relationships well. You already know that. Why do you think ours is a limited one? We’ve both got good lives. I don’t think either of us want to compromise it.”

“Compromise it…” repeated Seth very slowly.

“I don’t want to change who and what I am for someone else,” he explained, “If someone wants to hook up with me, fine. They just got to accept me as I am and not expect to change me. I’m sure you feel the same way. You want people to accept you at face value, right?”

“I suppose some of what you say has merit. But… relationships change people. Eventually, they change people, for better or… for worse.” Seth lowered his gaze in deep thought and drank from his glass.

The other man sneered. “That’s exactly why I can’t see myself committing to anyone. Often times, it’s for the worse.”

Seth crossed his arms and looked out at the crowd. “If you’re so unwilling to commit, then does that mean you’ll dance with any person out there, even with me right here? Would you?”

“Probably.”

“I don’t believe you.”

Dante smiled again. “Is that a challenge?”

“No.” Seth sounded a bit repulsed by his interpretation. “I didn’t mean it that way. It’s just… I can’t imagine you doing that. I thought after yesterday you wouldn’t… God, Dante, you’ve got limits, don’t you?”

“I do, but in this case, I already indicated where we stand. We’re only on a date. Therefore, there is no limit. If I danced with anyone here, it’d be just a dance. It shouldn’t matter.”

“Well, no… but…”

“And I asked you last night whether you understood what we had and you said you did. You even told me I could go out and have fun if I wanted to, right? Or was that complete bullshit?”

“No, it wasn’t bullshit. I meant it. But…”

“Either you’re on the same page as me or you’re a complete liar.”

Frustrated, Seth heard his heart thumping loudly. “You’re such an asshole sometimes, I swear…”

“But at least I’m honest and stick to my guns. I don’t like playing mind games, Seth. I like fucking the body, but I don’t like fucking the mind.”

“You are honest, Dante. Sometimes you’re too honest to the point of being brutal.”

“Believe me, I’d prefer not to be, especially to you. But then again, it’s the only way I can get past piles of bullshit to reach the essential. You might think I’m being cold, but this is me exposing myself to you, as completely as I can do it.”

“Just the selected parts of you…” reminded Seth uneasily.

“Hey, we all got issues stuffed in our closets, some we prefer to stay in there. You should know.”

“Yeah, and that’s why you need to lay off when I tell you I don’t want to talk about certain areas of my life. You keep pushing my buttons anyway.”

Dante laughed. He had to admit, Seth was absolutely right about him being too persistent. He couldn’t help it. Any time he was with Seth, he wasn’t himself. Like dissecting an exotic specimen, he wanted to know everything there was to know about him. Seth was just the tastiest thing he ever had and the more the man opened his mouth, the more enchanted he was. His words and tones were hypnotic melodies that seemed to wrap around him over and over again. There remained the issue of keeping his distance, of course. They weren’t in a relationship and Dante was determined not to start one. And yet, he couldn’t keep Seth too far away. Why this particular specimen made him crazy like that was beyond him. It drove Dante mad trying to figure out what this odd thing building in the pit of his stomach was all about.

Dante drank the last of his drink, trying to subdue the tingling sensation he got from looking at Seth now. He kept his voice even when he spoke again.

“It shouldn’t matter how I act. You need to follow your own voice, Seth, and not listen to mine. If there’s something you don’t like or feel uncomfortable with, then be direct about it.”

“But I have been forward.”

Dante gave him an unconvincing look. “You’re honest, I’ll give you that. But you’re not very forward. You tend to do things to avoid a confrontation. I can see it in your eyes. You’ve got other feelings on reserve.” He sat further back against the booth’s leather seat. “Still, I’ll give you the benefit of doubt. If you truly understand our arrangement then you won’t have a problem with me dancing with someone else. On the other hand, if you do have a problem, then you’ll be upfront about it. You’ll also have to admit that all the stuff you told me yesterday was really a lie.”

Before Seth could reply, Dante stood. As if to prove his point, the silver haired man walked down a flight of stairs to join the dancers.

From where he sat, Seth could see the red form walking among the crowd of moving white figures. The music pumped louder and the beams of light flashed brighter. Deeper and deeper, Seth saw Dante go until he finally stopped. A woman dressed with just a few threads and beads to cover her private areas was pulled away from her partner. While the man with her was clearly frustrated, the female didn’t protest. She clearly liked who she saw and pressed close against Dante, grinding her slim body against his masculine form. Dante gave him a quick glance, even smiling, before focusing on the woman.

The brunette bit his lower lip and wanted to go outside to have a smoke. A few minutes into their dance and he saw the sexual advances the woman was making. Dante didn’t push her hand out of his pants nor stopped the kiss that followed afterward. Seth could only stare at his drink to prevent the other things that were going to conspire if he kept watching.

His Prince Charming. With a new whore in his arms. It was the story of his life.

Yes, Seth knew what type of point Dante was trying to make. A part of him wanted to give in and yank the investigator by the balls. But he chose not to. The woman was just a part of Dante’s little game. Knowing that, Seth drank the rest of his drink in silence.

“Hey, Seth, there you are!” a girl’s voice suddenly called out.

Seth turned to his left. His eyes rose in surprise when he saw a familiar girl with black and white hair headed in his direction.

Damsel eagerly pushed past a couple of dancers. Smiling from ear-to-ear, the young investigator wore a short, sleeveless dress. Half of it was black and the other part white, much like her hair pattern. Damsel was a few paces away from Seth when excitement took over and she failed to see a man coming from her right. She accidentally tripped over his foot and landed hard. Moaning in distress, a dancer nearby helped her. Flushed with embarrassment, Damsel finally made it to Seth’s booth.

“Are you okay, honey?” Seth immediately asked, his face a mask of concern.

“Yeah,” the young woman answered out of breath, rubbing her sore knee. She immediately grew bright red when Seth massaged the injured area for her. “Um… I, uh… Sorry for taking too long. The damn bus was late.”

Seth smiled back, his thumb lightly touching the tender skin. “Ha, bus systems are severely fucked up whenever you want them to run on time. I’m glad you made it, though.”

He bent down and gently planted a kiss on the fresh bruise. Then he guided Damsel into the booth, failing to see her wide-eyed expression. As he slid into the booth from the other side, he took out a folded sheet of paper from his jacket’s pocket.

“Here, like I promised. I got it all filled out.”

After coming back to her senses and remembering how to breathe again, Damsel slowly nodded and took the survey. She looked over it. “Wow. You really wrote a lot.”

“Yeah. Sorry about that. That’s actually the edited version. Some of those questions were pretty enticing. I hope it helps your cause.”

“I’m sure it will.” She folded the paper and stuffed it in a mini-sized purse she brought with her.

“How are things going for your group, by the way?”

“Good and bad. We’re working on a major case. Spook and the guys had some awesome evidence the other day, but the cops busted them. They were on an active crime scene and served a day in the pit.”

“Ouch.”

“Yeah. They’re all right, though.”

“What type of case are you working on?”

“We’re investigating the cannibalistic murders occurring in town lately. Mums the word, though. We kinda want to get first dibs on this case since no one else is taking it on yet.” She cleared her throat. “I’d appreciate it if you, uh, didn’t mention it to Dante.”

“Don’t worry, I won’t. And besides, he already told me he’s on vacation.”

“He’s on vacation? Really?” Damsel sounded excited.

“Yeah,” Seth answered, finding her reaction a bit amusing. He leaned forward and placed his hands on the table. “So tell me, what do you know about these murders going on recently?”

“They’ve started just a few weeks ago, for one. But that’s not the major thing. According to our sources… it might not be human.”

Seth took a moment. “Are you sure?”

“Uh-huh. Many reports have been coming in to the police department, describing something pretty a big and dark, with large claws. When Spook was at the crime scene, he saw a victim hanging upside-down and the entire restaurant totally trashed. This creature must be really strong.”

“Jesus…” whispered Seth to himself and chewed on his lip. He looked upset.

“You okay?”

“It’s… it’s nothing.” He sat back and crossed his arms. Smiling weakly, he urged her to continue. “I’m fine, really. Please, go on.”

“Unfortunately, that’s all we’ve got. We’re handing out more surveys and are hoping to have more reports on this creature. So far, a few have written about it.”

“Information through surveys… That’s really clever.”

“I thought so too. It’s not intruding on anyone’s business and we’re not influencing the people’s answers by asking them specific questions. We’re leaving it entirely up to them.” On an afterthought, Damsel added, “And don’t worry, Rainbow. Paranormal Five respects client confidentiality. No one but me knows you wrote this survey.”

“Thanks.” He smiled. “But going back to those reports, have you found a pattern?”

“Sorta. It’s happening at the east side of town. The cops are already talking about a city-wide curfew, which is going to be a bummer for us.”

Seth was quiet for awhile. He felt the tiny hairs at the back of his neck stand on end. The news was certainly disturbing and he knew it was going to get worse. His throat dry, he motioned for a waitress to come by their booth. The nearest one nodded back but was currently held up by a customer. Seth patiently waited and brought his attention back to Damsel.

“I want you to be careful,” he told her rather grimly. “I don’t want you and your posse staying out too long, especially at night when the air is hot or when there’s a full moon.”

“Huh?”

“Just stay inside, trust me.”

“God, Rainbow, you really sound upset.”

“Sorry. But I don’t want to see you in the news. Just promise me you’ll take it easy.”

“I will.”

Damsel was confused and wanted to know what was on Seth’s mind. Don’t go out during humid days? Or on a full moon? What was up with that? It was obvious that something was disturbing him, but he refused to elaborate on it. While she certainly wanted to talk about it, Damsel didn’t want to spoil their time together by discussing horrifying monsters and impending doom.

“Thanks for inviting me, Rainbow.”

“Huh…? Oh. Yeah. Sure. No problem.” His face began to relax. “I hope it makes up for me not getting back to you soon.”

“Ha, it does.” Damsel studied her surroundings, her eyes bright. “Ice is such an awesome club. It’s been a long time since I’ve been here.”

                “You don’t come here often?”

                “Well, not since that incident.”

                “Incident?”

                “Yeah.” She pointed at one of the prisms suspended in the air. “I went in one of those things last year and got a part of my dress stuck on the cell’s door. I tried opening the door to get it loose.”

                “While you were elevated?” Seth appeared bewildered, already calculating a messy situation.

                “Uh-huh. Next thing I know, I flip over and I’m showing my ass off to the entire crowd that night. My skirt’s the only thing holding me upside-down, but then it rips and I plummet.”

                “Christ…”

                “Well, I came out all right, for the most part. I broke my fall by landing on the crowd. I got some stitches, though, and none of the folks I landed on were too pleased because they had to go to the hospital too. Ever since then, I’ve avoided this place. By the way…” She gazed admirably at his wardrobe. “You look totally retro-punk, Rainbow.”

He blinked, trying to digest the information she just told him. Seth chuckled at how Damsel’s erratic mind worked. “Thanks. Aside from being worried about you banging your knee, and the life-threatening situation you were in, yeah, I was admiring your clothes too.”

Damsel’s blush came back at full force. Then she paused, remembering something. “Um… where’s Dante? You mentioned he was here too.”

Seth shrugged. “He’s around.”

“So I suppose you’re together again, huh?”

He laughed, noticing how disappointed she sounded. “Oh, Damsel, don’t look so sad. You’re absolutely stunning when you smile. And we’ll always that night we spent together. Right?”

Damsel smiled back, glowing.

The waitress finally arrived. On her tray was a tall glass filled with a cream-white liquid. At the very center was a tiny drop of red. Wrapped around the glass’s base was a string attached to crystallized pearls. Smiling, the waitress handed it to Seth and started walking away.

Seth immediately frowned, his eyes wild with panic. “Wait… I… I didn’t order this.”

“Oh?” the woman said and stopped. “Another waitress handed me that drink. She told me someone ordered it for you.”

Seth stared at the white liquid.

“What person?” he asked quietly.

“Sorry, I don't know. It was just given to me. But you know… I may have made a mistake.” The waitress took back the glass. “I apologize for the mishap. Let me get you another drink, on the house. What would you like?”

“Rainbow?” asked Damsel from across, noticing how Seth’s face flushed brightly. “You okay? You’re acting weird.”

Seth wiped sweat from his brow with the back of his hand. “Yeah, I’m fine.” To the waitress, he said, “No thanks, I’m not thirsty anymore. Sorry for the trouble.”

“No problem, handsome. Call me over when you change your mind.”

The waitress nodded and left. Seth sighed and looked at Damsel.

“God, I’m so sorry for freaking out just now. It’s stress.”

“Rainbow, what’s going on?”

“Nothing. My mind’s just decided to go on ‘fucked-up’ mode. It’s nothing major.”

Seth watched the waitress walking away with the white liquid drink. There was a time he craved for it. He knew its ingredients by heart. A pint of Puerto Rico rum. Half a cup of milk. Three spoonfuls of sugar. A dab of egg yolk. And a drop of blood. He used to take tiny sips of it, preferring to dip the pearls of solidified cocaine in the liquid and suck out the various flavors. It surprised Seth that they served it here. After all, it was a specialty drink, one that required the customer to bring their own ‘beads’. Even more, no one but him and another person put blood in their drink. Knowing that, Seth tried to follow the waitress with his eyes, wondering who ordered it. Unfortunately, a heavy crowd of dancers blocked his line-of-sight and he lost the waitress. Anxiety built.

First the prank calls. Now this.

“Seriously, Seth, you look like you’re going to hurl or pass out or something.”

Seth looked back at Damsel. She appeared completely baffled and worried. He attempted to put on a brave, happy face.

“Ha, I don’t look that bad. I’ve just been jumpy lately. I haven’t had a smoke for awhile.”

Damsel grinned. “I brought my special stash with me. Will that do?”

He exhaled in relief. “Thank god, I could use a hit. How’s about we go by the bar and have some drinks first? We’ll torch up and dance afterward. Dante won’t be back for a while anyway.”

Before Damsel said another word, Seth removed himself from the booth and stood on his feet. He extended a hand to the young investigator, his face glowing when a beam of light crossed him. Damsel took it as a sign, mentally telling herself to make this moment last a lifetime. She slid out of the booth and joined in Seth’s little adventure.

Together, they saw the fabulous bartenders tossing liquor bottles in the air. Damsel was full of smiles when one approached her. Chosen to fling a bottle back and forth with a bartender, she and Seth laughed loudly when she accidentally let go and shattered glass over the counter. No one was upset at her, though, and they drank a few rounds of vodka in peace before venturing outside. With the night’s air blowing coolly over their faces, they took a few hits from Damsel’s stash, the drug filling their minds with an alternate reality free of burdens and harsh truths. For Seth, he allowed it to erase the tension his body had built earlier. By the time they came back inside and took to the dance floor, they were in a state of bliss, off in their own little worlds.

Now underneath one of the ice sculptures, they danced to a lazy beat, even when the song was a frantic one. The soft blue glow from the sculpture reflected off on them and while the cool draft made them feel a bit cold, their bodies created enough warmth to counter it. Damsel smiled up at Seth. In her mind, she thought Rainbow saved her, even if she couldn’t figure out how. Perhaps it was from sheer boredom or maybe he helped her escape from reality. Whatever it was, Rainbow was the breath of fresh air she needed.

It almost saddened her that he was taken. Admittedly, she was surprised that Dante actually came back to reclaim one of his abandoned playthings. Then again, Rainbow was a one-of-a-kind man. Even the people on the street could see that. On the one hand, Damsel was glad he was feeling loved, especially by a man who usually kept people at bay. On the other, she wished he was miserable, she wished Dante was acting accordingly. It would’ve made things so much easier for her. She could’ve stepped into Rainbow’s life and be the hero. They had so much in common anyway.

Knowing that, Damsel wondered why she couldn’t make her move now. How serious was Dante, anyway? Just yesterday, she heard he was spotted with two young women. Surely, the fire was dying out. Surely, Dante was getting bored. He wasn’t even here dancing with Rainbow.

With his face buried on her neck, Damsel opened her mouth to speak the words that had been haunting her mind since the first day they met. Even if Rainbow laughed at her, she needed to say them. At least he’d remember who really cherished him, especially if Dante dumped him again.

“Rainbow…”

“Yeah?” he mumbled on the other side.

“You… you’re really one helluva guy…” She paused and grimaced a little. Saying the words in her head had sounded a lot less corny than when she spoke them out loud.

“You’re a helluva girl too, Damsel,” he replied back.

She swallowed hard. “I just want you to know… that I really… appreciate you.”

“It’s the same for me. We’ve a connection, I think.”

His voice was a bit drowsy from the joint he smoked earlier. Still, the words themselves tugged at Damsel’s heart and it gave her the strength to speak bolder.

“Listen… I know you and Dante are an item and all. I know you like him a lot. But like wearing two left shoes, some pairs don’t make for a good fit. Well, unless you’re a mutant that has two left feet. But even then, mutants don’t usually have two left feet. They got like claws and who knows, they may have eight feet…”

“Huh?”

Damsel stopped herself, realizing she was overcomplicating things. “Ugh, forget what I said, Rainbow. The point is, I think you’re better off with…”

She wanted to conclude the sentence ‘with me’ but immediately stopped when she caught sight of a familiar man.

Dante’s expression was colder than the ice sculpture they stood next to.

“You can leave now,” Dante told her, approaching Seth from behind.

Damsel hesitated, blinking slowly. She never really imagined Dante as a scary guy since he was too handsome to really provoke fear. For whatever reason, it was the men who were scared shitless of him, claiming he could may even a devil cry. Still, she never understood. Until now.

Those eyes… they were full of fire.

“What were you going to say?” Seth asked her, his voice calm.

Coming back to herself, Damsel gazed up at her dance partner and saw him smiling. The fact that Dante was here didn’t seem to faze him. While he was still reeling from the drug’s effects, he was sober enough to give her his full, undivided attention.

“What?”

“You were talking about two left feet and eight legged monsters. Or something like that.”

“Um… Uh…” Damsel felt Dante staring at her. Any harder and she would’ve broken into a billion pieces. “It’s nothing. Really.”

“You sure?”

“Yeah.”

“Okay… But call me if you want to talk again. You got my number.” Seth gave her a wink and took a step away from her.

Both his tone and language were as friendly as they were before. When Seth offered her another reassuring smile, she was back in her comfort zone.

“All right. I will. And thanks, Rainbow. Thanks for the survey. And the dance and… um…”

Damsel didn’t know what else to say. She gave him a grin, which grew weaker when Dante embraced Seth from behind. The silver haired man wrapped an arm around Seth’s waist and placed the other just over his chest, right near the heart. Dante’s cheek pressed against the other man’s neck and as he did, his piercing blues eyes looked up at Damsel. The way Dante gently held Seth close to him and looked at her, it was both an intimate and hostile gesture. His eyes glowed white.

“Bye,” Damsel said a bit bewilderedly.

She didn’t know if her eyes were playing tricks on her or if the joint she smoked was really screwing with her head. Whatever it was, Dante’s actions spoke volumes and she took the hint: Dante wasn’t going anywhere and he wasn’t going to share Seth with anyone, least of all, her. Damsel went through the crowd to find her way out, feeling pissed but also… amazed. She had no idea how passionate Dante was until now.

The two men watched her go in silence.

“You should’ve waited for me at the booth,” Seth said after awhile, without looking behind. “I was heading there right after our dance.”

“I didn’t want you dancing with her anymore,” confessed Dante. He inhaled Seth’s scent, soon closing his eyes. “She called you Rainbow, by the way.”

“Yes. I know. I told her to call me that.”

Dante was dead silent.

“How long have you been watching us? What happened to your dance partner?”

Dante didn’t answer either of his questions. He didn’t need to, though. Seth already knew the answers. He knew he’d been watching since Damsel arrived. He felt his presence. He even heard the female dance partner cursing when he ditched her so that he could go outside and observe them smoking together. All that time, the investigator was watching.

Seth chuckled softly. “We’re only on a date. And it was just a dance. It shouldn’t matter.”

The other man kept mute, quietly eating his own words.

“And we didn’t touch each other either,” Seth added firmly, something he felt was worth mentioning. He was just too high to keep it bottled inside.

Dante held him tighter and the two started to dance slowly, rocking back and forth without adjusting their current positions. The crowd around them roared to life when the water sprinklers activated and the music got louder. Neither men cared, nor changed the pace of their slow dance.

Laying his head on Seth’s shoulder, Dante kept his eyes closed. He hated all of the imprints Damsel left behind. He hated the smell of her cherry perfume against his lover’s raspberry tang. He hated her drug intoxicating his body and making him smile. And he absolutely hated her calling him a different, more exclusive, name. Dante felt the sting of his own strategy playing against him and knew why Seth mentioned that last bit of information.

Seth didn’t react violently or in a rage when he saw him sexually interacting with a woman. In the end, Seth had enough sense to know she meant nothing to him. On the other hand, Seth was with Damsel. She meant something to him. Worse, they didn’t need to touch to fully connect…

“You’ve made your point,” Dante whispered back to him and kissed his neck.
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