(Disclaimer: I do not own DMC Devil May Cry or its characters. This is a harmless fanfic intended for entertainment for readers.)

1

Meeting the Storm

Flashing neon lights from every direction. They shot past me like a hurricane as my running feet pounded beneath me on the road, my heartbeat reverberating throughout my body like a drum roll.

The city of New York was a beautiful disaster with its deceiving blinking elemental bright lights, usually coming from casinos, strips, or bars. Under the fake welcoming was a sheet of crime, danger—and demons.

Much similar to the one I was running from now, with a body that resembled a fleshless human and eyes that were similar to that of a fly. Over six-feet tall with pinchers protruding out of its mouth like a demented spider.

My breath was rough and my skin coated in a sheet of cold sweat, yet underneath the physical fear, there was a level of cocky mannerism.

I turned into a dark alleyway that sat next to a strip club named Bottom Bitch. I almost tripped on the turn, grasping the stitch in my side and pursuing further.

Man, you'd think that working out five times a week you'd be a bit better at running away from demons any night at a seconds notice.

I reached the end of the alleyway, breathing hard and heart pounding. I felt the creature pause in hesitance nearby behind me. Quickly, I turned, my hood still low, face concealed in shadow. The demon was now assuming that I was merely a juicy fly shepherded to its own web.

But I was smiling.

I raised my head. The demon's eyes could see well enough in the dark, and I knew what it saw.

A girl, nineteen at the most, hair of vivid black locks hanging just below her ribs, wearing the simple attire of blue skinny jeans and black hoodie. And yet it was the eyes that always sent people to fear me. One, a vivid, startling starlit, almost electric blue with rings of black smoke. The other, a cat-eye emerald green.

Both narrowed into an impish expression as I registered the god-awful smelling demon in front of me.

"What's the matter, bug boy?" I taunted. "Suddenly scared of little old me?"

The demon clicked its talon-like fingers together in anger. It could not speak; its mouth was promptly sewn shut with vicious stitching.

"Huh. What a change. Usually the villain spends the whole time bitching. Maybe that's why they always lose the battle," I said in a matter of fact sort of tone. I gave a small shrug. "Who knows? Maybe you'll actually win."

The demon clicked its claws together again before lunging, hands reaching ahead of it like a tiger pouncing. I leaped backward; quite literally leaped. I soared through the air, fingers clenching over the iron balcony fifteen feet high and whirling around to rest on the railing.

"You look like you've never seen a girl fight before, bugsy," I said, drawing a shimmering katana that gleamed in the moonlight above, drawing it high above my head and narrowing my eyes. "Though that isn't saying much. Saying you have an expression is saying that you only want a handshake from a prostitute."

I leaped forward, making a flip in the air and landing just behind the demon, drawing my sword up high and making a large slash through the demon's back. It would have screeched if it could, and did recoil at my touch.

It made a sort of strangled scream as it bolted forward. I just nearly dodged the glinting green claws.

"Poison afflicted claws? You're way too mainstream," I said, dodging another attack. I made a swipe at its arm. It came clean off, greenish blood oozing from the stump. "Ew. Gross," I said, making a face. "Off with your head, bug boy."

But this time at making a strike, I was a bit too careless. At making a swipe for its head, one of the demon's claws of its remaining hand shot up and went straight through my arm, making me cry out and jump back, taking the claw with me.

I dropped my sword, ripping off my hoodie and staring at the mess on my arm. The claw went cleanly through my skin and bone, the wound suddenly pulsating like a heartbeat. Already I could its affect; my arm started to go numb and then steadily the rest of my body.

"Oh, fuck," I whispered, taking the claw into my hand and wrenching it out of my arm, shouting slightly in excruciating pain.

My legs buckled beneath me. Soon the numbness spread to to my face, stomach, waist, then legs. I could no longer move. My entire body seemed to pulsate with agonizing pain.

Maybe I got a bit too cocky and full of myself. It wouldn't be the first time. But I didn't have time to die. Dying was boring. Believe me, I know.

I mentally struggled with myself as the demon knelt over me, a bit more confident now that I was immobile on the ground. Oh, hell, I knew if he could talk he would be making all kinds of snappy villain come backs to me.

There was nothing left to do but pray, and I didn't pray. It would be way too ironic.

It was only then I did realize that this demon did have a mouth. The stitching unraveled itself as though the thread had a mind of its own. Then, it opened its mouth. And, like some sort of weird shark, it had rows and rows of razor sharp teeth protruding from the front of its mouth to the back of its throat.

What a horrible last sight.

It leaned forward, mouth opening in a perfect 'O' and sucking like a vacuum. Then—

SLASH.

The demon's head went rolling onto the alleyway ground, its green blood squirting on the pavement and a little on myself. All I could do was permit my eyes to roll doll-like onto the scene. They landed on a tall figure standing beside me and the now decapitated demon beside me.

And then everything went completely black.

.

"Ravyn! Come on! Come play in the snow with me!" shouted my persistent younger brother, Noah. He wore a white snow suit that was so overly padded that he looked like an enlarged marshmallow waddling to the back door and shifting it open, his little hand clenched over mine and trying to drag me out.

"Okay, okay!" I laughed, pulling on my hat over my black hair and shimming on my gloves and following him out into the winter wonderland.

"I will conquer thee!" shouted Noah to no one in particular, picking up a stick off the ground and drawing it like a sword. Snow flakes caught in his thick patch of sleek black hair and onto his fair skin. He stuck out his tongue, attempting to catch them.

"What do you want to do, Noah?" I said, placing my hands on my knees and leaning forward.

"Snowman, snowman!" he chanted, waving his little padded arms in the air, his eyes alit with excitement. Eyes that consisted of one electric blue, the other emerald green. Eyes that resembled mine, except that my blue eye was on the right, and his, left.

"Mom, dad!" I called. "C'mon! Make a snowman with us!"

"Hang on, kids," our dad laughed, opening the patio door, followed closely behind by our mother, her waist-length straight midnight hair cascading down her back and shoulders like raven's feathers, her bright eyes crinkled slightly by the large smile she held.

We built the snowman in good cheer. Dad found int the depths of the closet a black top hat and red plaid scarf. We used a carrot for a nose and pebbles to form a smile.

"What should we name him?" dad questioned, admiring our handwork.

"Ravyn!" said Noah loudly. We all looked at him in surprise.

"After your sister?" mom said.

"I'm not a boy, dummy!" I said, but I was giggling. "Why after me?"

Noah grinned. "Because Ravyn is the best sister in the world!"

.

Everything hurt. Even when my eyelids fluttered I flinched. Though I was lying on something very soft and warm. A thin cover had been placed over my body, not doing much for comfort.

I opened my eyes. The lighting was dull, the only source coming from a lamp in the corner that had no shade. I sat up slowly, flinching slightly, my hand grasping my arm. It was now heavily bandaged. It no longer hurt as much, but it was extremely sore, as though I had previously been given a shot.

I looked around the dimly lit room. It was extremely messy with empty pizza boxes spread here and there, maybe still with a crust in them. Empty beer and wine bottles littered the floor and clothes. The walls were of cheap plastic wood, proving that a simple punch would demolish it.

And there were holes in the wall, looking like they were caused by fists.

What a dump.

I was lying on a slightly dusty couch that smelt of must. I only had a small, slightly itchy green wool blanket cast over my body. Edgily, I shifted it aside and got to my feet. It hurt slightly to do so. It seemed the demon's poison was still taking an affect on me.

I made my way through the house. The person who lived here was no neat freak. I swear I could practically see the rug mites that covered the rug. I heard a television coming from what I assumed was the living room.

I walked towards the source of the noise. There I met an even scarier scene. In the living room a kitchen connected to it. In the sink was a mountain of such dirty dishes that held such a vivid shade of green, that they could have been any color. The counters were covered in stains and leftover rotting food. I could see the mice and bugs feasting from here.

On the couch of the living room sat a guy. A guy with tousled dark hair, broad shoulders, and starlit blue eyes. He was tall and well defined, but was only wearing a pair of black trousers, completely shirtless.

His eyes were locked on the small television that was on and coated in such a thick screen of dust that the picture was almost undecipherable. He looked up as I approached.

"Awake at last," he said. "I was afraid your eyes would never open."

I looked at him uncertainly. "Who are you?"

"Dante," he said. "Your knight in shining armor."

I made a movement as if to sit down on the couch, but saw a large bug crawl across one of the cushions and soon judged against it. Instead I folded my arms uncertainly and frowned at the stranger.

"You saved me from the demon?"

"Thought you wouldn't need it; you seemed to be doing just fine on your own," he said.

"And then you saw that the thing was going to rip my head off," I said.

He gave a small shrug. "What can I say? When a girl is about to be eaten by a bug-eyed freak, I like to be a nice guy."

"And this is your—house?" I said looking around. He gave me a sideways look.

"Don't hate on it too much. It's nice to have a place to return to after a long day. A place you can call home."

"If you can call it a home."

"What would you call it?" he asked defensively.

"A . . ." I said, kneeling down beside the chair, patting it softly once and seeing a cloud of dust puff out. Then I trailed my eyes onto the kitchen. "Scientific research center for undiscovered bug species."

He smirked.

"Yeah, well, you have weird eyes," he retorted childishly. "What's your name, anyway?"

"Ravyn."

"Well, Ravyn, you're lucky to be alive. What kind of demon are you?"

The question threatened the high walls I always built to any outsider. To stall, I leaned forward and examined a fish tank that had such a thick sheet of algae over the glass walls, that any fish was obscured and most likely dead.

"Not a demon," a I murmured, standing back up. I turned to face him again. "Not a full one, anyway," I added in answer to his quizzical look.

He arched an eyebrow. "You're a halfbreed? Is that even possible?"

"I'm standing here, aren't I?"

He didn't answer immediately. "Well, it would explain how that poison had any affect on you, and also why you're not dead. Normally, it would have no impact on a pureblood demon, but it would kill any human immediately. You must have had a horrible time trying to fit in at school."

I gave a hollow laugh, still standing awkwardly; too afraid to touch anything.

"Well, let me tell you that flying up to the roof of the school building did nothing to let me fit in with the other kids."

He smiled slightly.

"You know, you should really clean up around here," I said, unable to help myself. I glanced at him. "And wear a shirt."

"Well, you should wear pants," he smirked. I looked down and saw that the only thing that I wore was an overlarge white button up shirt that barely covered up my privates. I gave a little squeak and bent down to pick up one of the empty beer cans and threw it at his head.

He didn't dodge it but the impact of the can held no affect on him. He just continued to give me a cocky grin.

"You pervert!" I said angrily. "You undressed and dressed my unconscious body?!"

"Well, I hate to tell you, babe, but you were covered in demon innards. Green demon blood isn't really your color."

"But you couldn't have at least given me pants?" I demanded. He stood up. It was only then that I realized how tall he was. And I was short for my age.

"Yeah, but I always found the individual button up shirt on a girl really sexy," he laughed.

I glared daggers at him. "Where are my clothes?"

"In the wash. Why?"

"I have to get home. My little brother has to be worried sick."

"Doesn't he have parents to take care of him?"

I looked away. "No."

He understood. "Sorry," he said awkwardly. I glanced at him.

"Well what about you? You're obviously a demon."

"Yeah," was all he said. There was a pause.

"I have to go," I said finally. "Thanks for the—life saving and all that.

"Hang on," he said abruptly. "How old is your brother?"

"Fifteen," I said. "Why?"

"He can take care of himself for a little while; you can't go out now."

I raised my eyebrows. "Why not?"

"That demon you fought was a Pathaway demon; they travel in packs. If you go out now, they'll be right on your trail and most likely follow you to your house, putting you and your brother in trouble."

I eyed him steadily. "This wouldn't be a way of trying to get into my pants, would it?" I asked suspiciously.

He looked me up and down, then grinned.

"Right. Your nonexistent pants."

"Point taken," I admitted. "How long?"

"Just a couple of hours. Don't you have any way of contacting him?"

I reached instinctively for my pocket, then realized that I had none. "My cell phone was in my pants pocket. Did you get it?"

He looked at me innocently. "Whoops."

"You put it in the wash," I groaned.

"I'll get you a new one," he reassured me. "In the meantime, use mine." He reached into his pocket and pulled out a simple silver flip phone. I took it and began to text:

Noah, it's Ravyn. I got into a little trouble on my way back home. I'm safe; don't worry. Don't leave the house and don't worry about me. I'll be home soon.

I pushed the send button and snapped the phone shut and then handed it back to Dante.

"Thanks."

"No, prob. You should probably be resting anyways."

"Should I? On what clean surface?"

He looked around as if determined to prove himself, but it was in vain. He turned and sat back down on the couch, glancing at me.

"Well, don't be shy," he teased. "I don't bite—hard."

"I wouldn't sit on that couch if it saved the world from being vaporized," I stated.

He raised his eyebrows. "You're mean. I like the world."

"Sure," I said, preventing an eye roll. I went in the kitchen and pulled out a wooden table chair that was relatively clean and placing it beside him, looking at the TV.

"So," started Dante slowly, looking at me. "What were you doing out at night? You have got to know by now that going into New York back alleyways is like ringing the dinner bell for demons."

"Yeah, I would. But I wasn't being hunted by the demon. I was hunting."

He registered me closely. "Ah. So you lure spiders into their own webs, portraying yourself as a poor defenseless girl."

"Pretty much."

"Well, I'm impressed. Oh, and speaking of which." He bent over the side of the couch and lifted up my katana. "Nice sword. Did a lot of damage too. Too bad you don't know how to use it."

"Right," I said huffily, swiping it from his hand and resting it on the side of my chair. "Well, you only saw a glimpse of what I can do."

"I'm intrigued. Who taught you?"

I hesitated. "My mom. She started teaching me when I was seven."

"Damn. I can't imagine a parent giving their kid a Japanese sword to play with."

"It wasn't to play with! She took it pretty seriously. She wouldn't even let me have the sword until I could actually take down an opponent in a fair fight."

"Was it your mom you got your demon from?"

I looked at him, then slowly, nodded. "Yeah."

"And what about your eyes? I—can't stop looking at them. They're kinda freaking me out."

I laughed under my breath. "I get that a lot—or I would if I talked to a lot of people. It's been like this ever since I was ten and Noah, my brother, was six. We've been on our own for nine years."

"And you have been—taking care of him all by yourself for that long? Since you were ten?"

"It hasn't been easy, but we have a home, food, water. Our parents died when I was ten, then after that, it was just us."

He nodded slowly. "I never knew my parents."

I looked at him. "I'm sorry."

"We all have our tough times, some worse off than others. The only thing you have left is to be grateful for what you have left." He looked around the establishment with a hardened expression. "Anyway, chill out for the next couple of hours. I'm going to bed."

He got to his feet, not looking at me. "Hey, if you want to rest somewhere habitable, the bedroom second to last at the end of the hallway is fine."

I watched him walk into the hallway and turn into a bedroom and shut the door behind him. I looked out of the window. It was still dark. I was only out for a couple of hours.

I got to my feet and headed to the bedroom Dante instructed me to, hopes not high. But I was surprised at how actually clean it was.

There was an unmade double bed with a giant feather stuffed white blanket on it. There were clothes here and there on the floor but that was it. It wasn't any dirtier than my own room. Slightly uncertainly, I crept up to the bed and slid under the covers, which were amazingly clean.

Why hadn't he put me in this bed instead of that dirty couch?

Nonetheless, I rested my head on the soft, cool pillow and closed my eyes.

I was used to guys like Dante; I had screwed my share of them. Cocky, playful, extremely confident. And in realty I had no problem with him seeing me without pants on. He was good-looking enough to want to flaunt your body around.

Sure, call me a slut. It wouldn't be the first time. But do you notice when a guy sleeps around he's considered macho, but when a girl does for the first time she's automatically a whore?

Such a fair world.

Though strangely I've never had sex with another demon. I can imagine it would be a mind-blowing experience.

I smiled to myself and snuggled further into the cotton sheets, feeling sleep drift back into my system. It was a dreamless sleep, unlike the last one, for which I remained grateful; visiting memories of my parents was painful. More painful than to forget about them. I wish I could.

When I awoke, it didn't feel like I got much sleep and when I looked outside it was still dark. Narrowing my eyes tiredly, I looked around. My eyes landed on someone standing right next to the bed, staring down at me with a blank expression.

He had a sheet of light, silvery shaggy hair that got in the way of his bright blue eyes that almost resembled Dante's completely. In fact, the facial structure was completely identical. He held a toothbrush loosely in his mouth and looked as though he had only just saw me.

He was also completely naked.

"Dante," said the guy slowly. "Why is there an unknown female in my bed?"

Dante suddenly appeared in the doorway very quickly. He now had a dirty white undershirt on and was watching the scene. Catching sight of the stranger, he suddenly burst out laughing.

"God, this is better than I imagined," he chortled.

"Am I going to be let in why there is a naked man in front of me?" I said, drawing the covers protectively up to my chin.

"Am I going to be let in why there is a half naked girl in my bed?" he inquired, glaring at Dante.

"Vergil, this girl got in the way of a nasty Pathaway demon, so I helped her out. And Ravyn, this is my brother, Vergil."

"Twins?" I questioned. Dante nodded.

"I half assumed she was a stray you picked up," said Vergil, seeming supremely unconcerned that he was exposing everything to an unknown girl. "The last time that happened you plagued my bedroom for three weeks."

I raised my eyebrows to Dante. "Three weeks?"

He leaned on the doorway, giving him his crooked cocky smile. "Why? Are the guys you're usually with not up to your stamina expectations?"

I decided not to answer that. "Well, thanks for the hospitality, Dan, but I should be going." I got to my feet, shaking my mane of hair behind my back and enjoying the fact that I must have looked good in their eyes.

He raised his eyebrows in surprise. "Already? I was hoping we could—"

"Another time, maybe," I said with a sly smile, glancing at Vergil. It was impossible not to glance down. Damn. Not bad. I looked back at Dante. "I have to get back to my brother."

"Be my guest. See you around, Rave."

I gathered my clothes out of the wash and pulled the skin tight jeans on my legs, allowing Dante to watch from behind and then slipping off the button down shirt so I was merely in bra and jeans.

"There you go," I said, tossing him the shirt. He grinned and caught it.

"Sure you can't stay a little longer? It may still be rough out there."

I met his eyes, hands clenching my white tank top.

"I like it rough."

That definitely sparked something in his blue eyes. He smirked.

"You usually flirt with strangers?"

"You usually take in stranger girls to your house?"

"If I answer that, you'll hit me."

I grinned, slipping on my shirt and turned to him, drawing close to him so that we almost touched. I was such a midget to him that I only came up to his chest.

"Who knows? Maybe you'll like it."

He looked down at me, the corners of his lips twitching. His eyes fixated on my own, then scanned the rest of my body, its defined curves making them known in my tight shirt and pants.

I trailed my hands teasingly down his chest, then pressing over his hard abdomen that was undeniably impressive and desirable. I was always a sucker for six packs. My hand crept for an infinitesimal second on his hard crotch before withdrawing. A second so quick that it might has well have not happened.

Okay, yeah. I was a whore.

"Gotta go," I said, still grinning. Then, leaving him there in the small laundry room, I snatched up my katana and headed out of the door and into the night once more.