Dante

Her thick brows knit and he knew he'd caught her off guard with his last statement. There was no doubt this was a difficult situation to explain and he appreciated she was an understanding, coherent adult rather than the lanky child lingering in his vast memory.

He'd only ever seen her in passing, always chasing behind her brothers, and only a handful of times.

She'd grown tall but was still shorter than him as most humans were. When he'd snuck up behind her and she straightened, she'd come just above his shoulders.

The fabric of the dark green sweater dress she wore was bulky but still hugged her curves. She'd probably meant for it to hide her body but as Dante followed her tonight, he'd noticed the attention she'd gathered from a few men she'd passed on the way home. Not that it appeared she'd noticed. She seemed too in her head, recklessly oblivious to her surroundings.

It came just above her knees, cupping her thick thighs and ass nicely but the black tights unfortunately prevented anything of importance from actually showing. The sleeves were long and down to her knuckles, probably to keep her warm in the chilled January winter, as well as the neckline brushing her chin.

Despite the fact she was well covered he found himself liking what he saw. The green complemented the warmth of her skin and reminded him of the natural clay he'd once worked between his fingers as an adolescent in Civita. Rich and russet. Her cheeks were round like her face which was hiding behind her wild onyx coils.

No, onyx wasn't right, he'd noticed the loose waves collecting highlights under the city's lamp posts earlier. Maybe a deep dark - deceptively dark - umber.

Her chest still rose and fell in rapid motions, moving her breast in noticeable ways that she didn't inherit from her mother's flatness.

He noticed the lips of her round, full mouth twitch and he was certain it was from his quick assessment of her being. But, despite what most thought about him, he was only a man.

A man who liked many different body types but had a particular fondness for fuller figures - the kind that seemed to overflow with every curve.

However, that wasn't the task at hand. And even if it was, it wasn't as if he would attempt a taste.

While this girl held defiance in her high shoulders, he could see the fear in her eyes, almond in shape and bright cognac in color. The fear that was within all humans when he was near, some more than others.

And it was for this and other reasons he chose to keep his distance from humans. They were dangerous when they were scared.

"Okay, you're clearly insane." Her tone brought his mind away from her features and back to the job he'd been paid to do.

"No, what's foolish is your inability to accept the truth in the answers you wanted."

She began to shake her head, causing a disturbance in the stale air of her rather small apartment. He had done an initial sweep of the home when he'd first arrived to make sure it was secure for her arrival and he noted just how insignificant the place was.

Granted he wasn't judging it based on the office he slept in at the bar. But to have downsized from the home he knew her parents owned, to living in a borderline scum apartment was... something just didn't add up. He would have to ask her a few questions on how she'd come across it and if it was initially her idea to move out.

He hadn't scouted any demonic disturbances within the building. While it was strange, it wasn't uncommon. Harmless glamoured Malevolents, mainly Caster's, chose to live in groups such as apartments to shield their scent but Dante's skills were well equipped for such things.

"No." She smiled. "Come on, that's... no, because... bruh, actually?" She thought to herself for a moment, eyes darting around the floor before looking at him again. She then became unpredictable. "Lowkey, that could make so much sense."

Dante nodded, though her sudden easy acceptance confused him. "Your family is a part of an organization whose job is to clean up the mess demons make."

"And what are you?" She asked, truly curious. She'd brought her hands back to her sides and stopped looking for what he had presumed was a weapon. However, the most dangerous thing in that drawer was a rusty potato peeler. She didn't have much of anything, and again, Dante internally questioned her motivations for moving with little furnishings.

Dante had expected her interest in him, just not so soon. He'd assumed they would go through a round of denial about her parents and their life's work. Shock that they'd lied to her for years about the world beneath theirs, fear of said world and then finally, after hours of debate, reluctant acceptance but she was surprisingly jumping to the final step.

He had no problem being honest with her. She needed to know what her parents had hired to look after her.

"I'm a halfbreed. Able to spend my existence resembling a Brief -er- human, but I'm not." He searched her face for any signs of a meltdown but found none, only knit brows and a curious expression.

She leaned back against her counter with crossed arms, and for a moment he thought he could read her mind. She was thinking how impossible this all sounded, as most Brief's did when they saw something they shouldn't.

As he began to relay his thoughts, she cut him off mid-sentence, face scrunching, and waving her hand as if waving off his inaccurate predictions.

"Actually, I was thinking something completely different. Do my brothers know? Are they involved, too?"

Dante nodded and she let out an exasperated chuckle, her fingers pulling at the tips of her sleeves absentmindedly.

She didn't look at him but the space just in front of him as her brain processed. Her brows were still knit but more so in hurt rather than the confusion from earlier. Soon her almond eyes narrowed.

"Why wouldn't they tell me? Did they think I couldn't handle it?" Dante had been right about the disappointment in her eyes.

He gave a shrug, unsure how to answer her question. He honestly wasn't sure she was even asking him or just thinking aloud.

He left her alone with her thoughts to go sit on the uncomfortable and hideously patterned couch.

She was handling this a lot easier than he'd expected. She was more disappointed in her family lying to her rather than showing the normal signs of existential horror.

Existential horror he could handle, but familial disappointment...

Slowly, she followed him into the room and stood on the other side of him, and he realized she was going to be an easy assignment.

She was choosing to stick close because she needed answers, but not because she was afraid. Maybe it was possible that Keeper's were naturally fearless?

No, that wasn't true. He'd come across many who were scared shitless of him and any demon they came across. He could smell it on them but curiously not on this girl.

"It's in Brief's nature to fear the unusual." He searched her expression for any sign of distress. "Why don't you?"

A confusion flitted across her features as her mouth motioned the word Brief as if committing it to memory. Then her shoulders lifted and fell slightly, ruffling her hair.

"I don't know." Her tone was almost infant-like but also giddy as a small smile played at her lips. "I guess I'm waiting for the punchline?"

"There is none." He became firm, knowing it was the only way she was going to understand.

He noticed her expression quickly shift from whimsical to annoyed. Her eyes hardened and her mouth turned down in vexation."Well, you're blunt, aren't you?"

Dante smirked. "I strive to be, sweetheart."

Her eyes narrowed, posture going rigid. "Don't call me that."

He just shrugged, laid his back against the couch, and shut his eyes, feigning relaxed.

"What are you doing?" she scoffed.

"What does it look like? It's late." He opened one eye to study her before closing it again. "I'm settling in."

"But I have questions."

"And I'm not a library." He retorted with a snort. "It's late. Ask your folks tomorrow."

He wasn't actually going to sleep tonight, he hardly slept on a job; he just needed her to sleep so she wouldn't be a problem.

He could feel her standing there, ambition emitting from her person. He still didn't lift his lids until he heard her gruff huff and the soft swoosh of her boots on the carpet as she made her way from the living room to her bedroom.

She was there a while before she emerged, the vanilla perfume wafting from her clothes and skin seeming to battle with the pungent aroma of weed for dominance. It teased his senses and sparked his curiosity.

He'd noticed the lighter on her nightstand but no cigarettes and now wondered if that had been her reason for keeping the windows not only unlocked but wide open. To unsuccessful air the place out but, in the process, letting the stale air of the city in.

She went to the kitchen for a minute then came to stand behind him on the couch where he'd put his feet on the coffee table.

"Are you... hungry? Do half demons eat pizza? Do you eat at all?"

He resisted the urge to chuckle at her attempts. "Yes, we eat. But I'd much rather have a light."

Her body went rigid. "I'm sorry, I don't smoke."

Dante tilted his head back to look at her skeptically. "If you lie that horribly with your parents it's no wonder they don't trust you on your own."

"Are you hungry or not?" She nearly snapped.

"No. I told you what I wanted." He brought a pack of cigarettes from the inside breast pocket of his jacket. "Do you have a light?"

He could feel her staring at the back of his head, though couldn't see her expression. She left then came back almost immediately to toss the lighter he'd seen earlier into his lap.

"Don't smoke in the house," she snapped as he began to light up on the couch. But her tone eased with her next request. "And... don't tell my parents."

While he'd long since learned how awkward Brief's were, her statement confused him. If she didn't want her parents to know she was a smoker, why do it? She knew what it could do to her body, her lungs.

"I don't do it often." She babbled. "It's just... a nervous habit I guess I picked up."

"Biting your nails is a nervous habit." He told her as he stood and went to sit in the sill of one of the large windows. "Smoking destroys your body, even weed."

"I don't see you quitting," she mumbled under her breath, looking at her couch, disgruntled.

When she looked up from staring at the misshapen vegetables, her gorgeous eyes locked on him with a tender bite of her bottom lip and face full of fascination.

He swore mentally when his dick hardened at her tempting gaze, and he looked away from her, taking a long drag from his cigarette, wishing it was something stronger to make this night go smoother.

He enjoyed the sweet ones the most. Most likely, they weren't as innocent as they appeared, and he wondered if that was the case with this lost little fox.

For a moment, he'd wanted to screw her parents' strong requests of not sleeping with her. He'd already broken one request by introducing himself, though he still wasn't exactly sure why he'd done that.

Their reservations were valid. They knew his history more than they knew most others, and he definitely lived up to his reputation. He'd been a womanizer in his early years, sleeping with Brief's for fun and being indifferent if he harmed them or not.

Only in passing had he seen this woman in her early years as a child. In his vast memory, he vaguely remembered her noisy, awkward, adolescent self following her brothers around. But what he remembered most was the cause of the second-degree burns on the left side of her body.

He remembered the pain in her eyes from that night, and for this reason, he chose not to corrupt her innocence, letting her go to bed alone.

She didn't like his abrupt dismissal, yet took her plate and did as she was told, locking her door behind her.

It was an unnecessary and useless act, but he'd let her have her faux sense of privacy for the night.

Tomorrow would be a new day for her. She'd have to confront her parents about the information she'd learned, and he knew it wasn't going to be easy for them.

It was reckless of them to keep this part of their life from her, and while he questioned their motives, he knew the Oswalds were bright people. Normally The Society would have indoctrinated their children as early as eight years old. He knew the twins were aware of their family's demonic legacy, and with how open the Oswald's had been with Dante in the past, her lack of teaching made no sense to him.

From what little he'd been able to gather about the pendant, their secrecy served no purpose in its hiding. He found himself thinking back to that night, and questioning if they had wiped the girl's memory of all demonic activities to protect her.

He looked from the quiet street to the dark sky on the city's horizon.

The smell of rain was in the air, normally a foreshadowing sign of trouble or misfortune. However, there hadn't been rain the night the girl had earned her burns. There had been no warning as the fire engulfed their home.

Despite The Society's strict rules for their factions, the Oswald's had been radicals of the time. They'd offered their home as a refuge to beings of the Nether as long as they did no harm.

Not many trusted this, but they seemed to be heretics to their cause. They knew what most everyone in the Nether knew: that Brief's could be just as dangerous as the beings The Society worked so hard to control.

Their organization saw all those who came from the Nether as corrupt, which was true. To an extent. But the same could be said about their realm.

If not for their species' corruption, the separation of realms wouldn't have even been necessary.

Unfortunately, the Oswald's had broken the rules, fraternized with demons, and paid the price.

He'd ventured to their home on previous occasions for weapons, potions, or even information. While they were always watchful of those who showed, the Oswald's never caused any harm unless harm was intended.

Her parents had been having a small gathering on the first level of their two-story home. Demons, Caster's, and most other Malevolent's were invited. It was a variety that would normally never be associated with those in The Society, but the Oswald's had grown a quiet reputation. They were good people.

The night had been going well until it wasn't.

One wouldn't expect a modern home to burn as quickly as it had... but it did. The flames spread quickly and everyone had evacuated.

Aliyah didn't want to leave, but her husband had dragged her out with reassurance that he'd seen the boys playing outside and they both knew their daughter wouldn't be far behind. Only, she wasn't.

Dante remembered the anguish on their faces after they'd finally located the boys and questioned where their third child was only to be met with tiny confused glances.

He'd heard many human screams, but the agony of a mother realizing her kid was about to die a horrific death? That still haunted Dante.

He remembered not thinking, just reacting. The girl was only seven, a child who hadn't caused harm to anyone. And the Oswald's were actively trying to make changes in the system. So, no he didn't think when he ran back into the inferno. He was near indestructible anyway thanks to his fathers blood.

He'd sprinted through the front doors and dashed up the stairs to where he knew the girls' room was located. The door had been jammed so he'd used his shoulder to break it down, ignoring the loud cracking around him.

The room resembled the lower floor with many beams and pieces of the ceiling falling to the burning furniture.

The thick smoke obscured his vision, but he still managed to search her room.

When he'd pulled back the blankets to her bed, she wasn't there. She hadn't been anywhere in the room, and for a split second, he'd thought it had all been an elaborate attempt to trap or kill him.

He'd prepared to leave, exiting the room, but heard the faint cough come from down the hall where the flames were most rampant.

He made his way to the boys' room, careful to avoid the new holes in the floor, and found the girl pinned underneath a wooden beam.

Fire licked at her flesh, searing through her pajamas in places but she didn't scream. Her body was far too still and he wasn't sure if he'd made it in time.

Quickly, he pulled at the beam that had trapped her and wrapped her delicate body within his duster. As he'd turned to leave, the door to the room broke down with a loud cracking that shook the house and he knew it wasn't long before the structure collapsed completely.

The bay window was the only means of escape, and he'd jumped just as there was a loud explosion from somewhere on the first floor.

His body impacted with the ground roughly, the unexpected explosion causing him to miscalculate and tumble with the poor girl.

He thought she was still unconscious, but he could see her weak eyes where his jacket had opened slightly in the fall.

She opened her mouth, but only a strained cough came before she was out again.

He didn't have to open the jacket to see the burnt flesh. He could smell it and it caused a sickening feeling in the pit of his stomach that he'd worked hard over the years to squash.

Why was it that this girl, who'd never hurt anyone, was now damaged? While the only proof he'd been inside the burning home were his burnt clothes revealing patches of his slightly reddened flesh.

When he went to return the girl, the mother was on her knees, bawling next to her husband, who was doing his best to console her.

Before he could place the child down, she was being taken by her distraught parents and rushed to the hospital.

That night he felt something for someone else that he hadn't felt in nearly two hundred years. Pity.

He felt sorry for this little human girl, and it had been a long time since he'd felt anything other than resentment towards humans. At least with demons, it was easy to decipher their motives or figure out whose side they were on. With the humans, it was difficult to tell until it was too late.

However, something else happened that night that confused him.

As he'd unwrapped the girl from his jacket to hand her off, the sapphire pendant around her neck had touched the side of his hand, burning him when the flames hadn't. When he drew back in both pain and confusion, the girl's father noticed, yet avoided eye contact as they rushed her to emergency care.

He'd uncovered the information after extensive, discreet research, but its validity remained uncertain. The sources were often murky, and the claims potentially exaggerated. Until today.

Even back then he knew he couldn't reveal his speculations without causing a serious uproar in the Nether.

There were many nights Dante remembered Tartarus' epic tales of the Nether. He'd once thought they were just stories from his human father, but when Dante's strength began to rival the boys his age, his parents explained they weren't just bedtime stories. They were his father's history. And Dante's legacy.

His father was one of four original creators of their universe. A Primordial.

Tartarus, Leviathan, Lilith, and Kaos. Siblings in name only and forged from the first cosmic explosion, though no one knew exactly how they came to be. Even their disappearance was still vague and speculatory.

The ancient history surrounding Tartarus's imprisonment of his siblings was shrouded in mystery, with only fragmented accounts of the three crystals' dispersal.

After his father's treachery and vanishing, the stories of Kaos and Leviathan's Proxies became the primary and dubious sources, alleging that their masters had tasked them with preserving a fragile peace in the wake of Kaos's sudden rift between realms during her imprisonment.

The mere knowledge that this girl wore a pendant housing Lilith, the Primordial notorious for her bloodlust and thirst for vengeance, would send shockwaves through the Malevolent ranks. It would be an open invitation for chaos.

If released, there was no doubt in his mind Lilith's centuries of captivity would fuel a hunger for vengeance, and he wasn't about to be the one to unleash that storm. The information stayed locked away, a secret he kept for the sake of caution.

And keeping the pendant and Evanora safe shouldn't be too difficult. Especially if he could keep from sleeping with her.

No, if her parents could find another Keeper to sleep with her. Then that moron could be their lackey and protect the girl.

He could hear the soft snoring of his charge in the next room and her gentle lull nearly pulled him into a similar state. But he remained vigilante, his guard unwavering

While the pendant had been safe around this one girl's neck for the past twenty-two years, and within her family's possession for generations, he couldn't shake the feeling that complacency was a luxury he couldn't afford.

He spent the night lurking around her home, making sure each entrance was covered, and before long, morning came. He'd been staring out her bedroom window when her alarm sounded next to her bed. When she woke, realizing he was in her bedroom, she gave a tiny shriek.

"For fucks sake," she mumbled clutching her neck. "I forgot you were here. Why are you in here?"

"Scouting," he replied simply. He'd turned to leave the room but stopped just before the door and tossed a smirk over his shoulder. "You know, you talk in your sleep."

The faint blush that tinted her cheeks was endearing, and he found himself amused by her reaction. After all, it wasn't unusual for women to have dreams about him, particularly when he was nearby, a fact he'd grown accustomed to over time.

"Do you always get up this early on a Sunday?" he asked from the living room.

The bed's springs squeaked as she pushed off them roughly with a loud groan.

"No," she nearly snapped. "I promised my freaking parents I'd go to church with them this morning before work."

He knew that.

He just wanted to make sure she remembered.

Apparently, she hadn't and he watched as she rushed to get herself ready before her parents arrived to pick her up.

It was strange to him that she didn't own a car at her age, but with the pendent, he knew her parents didn't let her leave home often. He also doubted that would change even now that she was on her own.

She showered and dressed quickly but wasn't ready in time for someone to knock on her door.

He answered it, expecting her parents, not their son who owed him a large sum of money.

Simon stood in the hallway, his vision obscured by the black shades and the iPhone his attention was focused on. When he realized the door was open, and his baby sister did not greet him as usual, he finally glanced up and set his mouth into a hard line.

"Simon," Dante greeted, watching as his face dropped.

"What the fuck are you doing in my sister's apartment?" His angered and astonished reaction was expected, though he didn't dare push past the halfbreed.

"What do you think?" He crossed his arms hoping to torture the boy with his assumptions.

Now he did push past Dante, shouting Eva's name, and questioning if she was alright.

Evanora rushed from her bedroom, placing the mate to her earring in the other hole. Again, she wore a dress that covered her body well, though she wore lacy sandals and stockings instead of boots and leggings. Her dark locks were wavy around her round face but didn't shield her scar as she probably wanted.

It wasn't hideous, but the pale tawny was a noticeable difference from her original warm brown skin. It almost reminded him of someone with vitiligo. Where the melanin in her skin just wasn't present. As well as whelping in some places.

As if sensing Dante's eyes on her, she averted hers and fluffed her hair to cover her exposed flesh more.

"Why are you trippin'?" Her curious gaze was set solely on her brother who stared between Eva and Dante accusingly.

When his sister appeared as if she didn't understand his anger, he sobered and posed the same question as when he'd first entered.

"Are you... cool? He didn't...um..."

It took incredibly long for her to realize his meaning, and when she did, she laughed nervously.

"Bruh, no. I don't even know the... man?"

Her tone had turned upward towards the end when she questioned Dante's species, and he nodded.

No, he wasn't a full-blooded human, but he was still a man. Or at least, he liked to think of himself as such.

Simon stood there, dressed for church in a designer suit and red tie that seemed to bite into his neck. The expensive sunglasses that once sat on the bridge of a button nose that closely resembled his sisters, now sat on top of his terracotta braids. Dante thought maybe they were called cornrows.

From the chin up, he resembled the reckless man in Dante's memories and he thought it strange humans dressed so formally to appease a false god.

Simon straightened a bit more when he noticed Dante sizing him up. His slender shoulders squared and his chest puffed to feign power.

Dante not only had nearly a foot of height on this child but centuries. He should watch how he reacted or Dante would have to reconsider revoking his not killing idiotic Brief's rule.

Simon was a perfect example of what was wrong with The Briefs, the original term for their species. He thought he was the baddest thing out there, but he was wrong. His gambling habit had gotten him into more trouble than he could handle, and the fact that his parents had to pay out of pocket for his debt against Dante was not only ridiculous but childish.

His maturity was long overdue.

However, faux dominance didn't bother Dante. He knew this boy didn't have the required potions or weaponry to go up against him.

As Evanora's eyes flicked between the two men, Dante sensed her growing perplexity. Her brother's reaction had clearly caught her off guard. He, too, was waiting for her response to the situation, good or bad.

The tense silence hung in the air until it was broken by the sound of footsteps in the hallway. Lowell, whose features mirrored Simon's except for his shorter, faded black hair, appeared in the doorway, his presence an unexpected interruption.

He'd seemed just as surprised to see Dante, but not angry. After taking a moment to assess, he spoke, voice a little deeper in tone than his twin.

"Mom and Pop said they're already there," Lowell announced, his brown eyes scanning the room with a mixture of curiosity and wariness as if sensing the tension that hung in the air.

"Did you know about this?" Simon nearly snapped. Dante could tell was trying to keep his cool around his sister in case she didn't know what was going on.

Before Lowell could respond, Eva's arms crossed tightly over her chest, her eyes flashing with annoyance.

"Hold up, the real question is, when were any of you going to clue me in?" Her foot tapped out a staccato beat on the floor, her voice laced with irritation. "I mean, foreal? I think I deserve some answers."

The two men exchanged cautious glances, hesitant to provoke her further. But Eva stood her ground, her demeanor assertive, even if her confidence was a facade. She grasped the pendant, her fingers closing around it like a lifeline.

Lowell attempted to placate her with a gentle suggestion. "You should talk to Mom and Pop about this."

But Eva's curiosity turned to suspicion. "What aren't you all telling me?"

Dante's response was direct. "The pendant contains Lilith, the Devourer of Souls, Destroyer of Worlds - a Primordial."

Simon's shocked glance, followed by a glare, grated on Dante. He didn't need the judgment, especially not from someone who still owed him a substantial amount of money.

"I think," Lowell said pointedly, albeit still very calm compared to his twin. "This would be better explained with the help of our parents."

Dante shrugged off his disapproval. "Suit yourself. I have business I need to handle. I'll be back tonight."

He turned to Evanora before she could object "Take an umbrella. You're going to need it."