Chapter Text
Jun 26th, 2007
Valerie was seething. There was no other word for it.
Sitting on her bed, she glared off into space before letting out a frustrated growl and burying her head in her hands. Her phone, the source of her torment, lay within arms reach amongst her sheets, silently displaying an unread message.
The mere thought of its sender caused a burning flush of indignation to rise in Valerie’s cheeks, her anger still as fresh as it was a week prior. In spite of her fervent hatred, she found herself again replaying the events of that night, repeating the fruitless attempts to reconcile her current situation with that of last Tuesday’s.
Jun 19th, 2007
Summer’s brightest stars adorned Amity Park’s skies, cloudless and pleasantly warm as the night made her entrance. Like the many that preceded it, however, its beauty would go unappreciated by the town’s most capable protector. Scores of constellations went unseen by eyes trained on a demonic foe, a warm breeze unfelt by skin armoured with innumerable nanobots.
The Red Huntress manoeuvred through the air on her hoverboard, turning and diving erratically to keep out of reach of her prey – though calling it prey at this point was a joke at only her expense. What had started as a typical demon fight with an ugly flesh-beast had soon gone south, a rare lapse in focus being her foe’s opportunity to get in close and deliver a crushing bite to her side. As far as the demon was concerned, she was now the prey, and it leapt between rooftops at increasing speeds, eagerly chasing the killing blow.
Beneath the formidable veneer of the Huntress, the very human Valerie Gray was burning with pain and adrenaline. She clutched her left side as she flew, more instinctually than anything as the pressure did nothing to alleviate the pain, nor stem the flow of blood that oozed from her wounds in windswept tracks. Gory as it all appeared, it barely spoke to the extent of the damage beneath; Valerie could feel her ribs grinding together with every breath she forced, the dense heat of blood pooling in her abdomen, her rapid heartbeat echoing in her wounds as a sickening pulse.
Despite her injuries, Valerie pressed on, keeping the demon engaged in this aerial dance. Escape would’ve been easy for her – this breed was incapable of flying, thankfully – but there was no doubt the beast would find a helpless human to prey upon in her absence. Amity’s other demon hunters couldn’t be relied on, either; the Fenton couple’s over-zealous antics often resulted in excessive damage to both persons and property, yet when compared to that guy…yeah, no. There was a reason the Red Huntress worked alone.
In a bid to regain the upper hand, Valerie banked sharply and shot two small missiles from her hoverboard before pulling up out of the demon’s range. The beast’s eyes tracked the missiles and it let out a violent gurgle, followed by a swing of its head(?) as it hurled a wave of dark sludge from its rotten mouth. They impacted the slurry and exploded in a flash of light and foul-smelling steam, obscuring her view. Shit.
It took a moment for her visor to automatically shift to heat-vision to see through the steam – but, just like before, a moment was all the demon needed.
Valerie’s heat-vision engaged to the sight of a massive red blot launching itself from a nearby building at breakneck speed, too fast to dodge. She moved to pivot her hoverboard up in a last-ditch effort to shield herself, only for a streak of deep blue to tackle her from the side, her board falling away and dematerialising as the hunter and her new assailant plummeted out of the sky.
An indescribably wrong feeling gripped her body and Valerie suppressed the urge to vomit, feeling her human cells forced to melt into shadows as she, and what was now undoubtedly another demon, hurtled through the roof of a nearby building. The new demon twisted sharply, returning them both to solidity and flipping itself underneath Valerie before they crashed into the floor.
Mere moments of feeling dazed and unreal was all she allowed herself before she jolted out of the figure’s cradling grasp, scrambling to disentangle herself from a pair of large paws and a sleek, inky black torso. Now kneeling some feet away, Valerie let her eyes readjust to the dim of an unlit office space. They quickly fixed on the splayed-out demon, taking in its increasingly familiar features.
Four white, obnoxiously fluffy paws, cushioned by black pads and tipped with icy claws. A long black tail, not unlike a lizards in shape, decorated by a line of ice shards that she knew ran the length of its spine. Demonic lettering that looped its waist like a belt, glowing softly against midnight skin. A head of tussled hair that didn’t stop at the nape, mixing seamlessly with equally long fur that grew from its neck and clavicle, all in that same brilliant white. Two angular horns of greenish, shining ice that crowned its head. And yet, it was all belied by a disturbingly human face. If Valerie was unsure of the demon’s identity before, that one final detail wiped away any doubt.
“Furcas,” she hissed.
Said demon responded by righting himself in a flash, crouching on all fours in a defensive position that reminded Valerie of a startled cat. Piercing green eyes swept over her, pupils blown wide in the dark to drink in what little light they could. In seeing she didn’t yet have a weapon pointed his way, the tension in his stance bled out somewhat, yet he continued to eye her warily.
His mouth moved as if to say something, but in that moment Valerie’s ribs took the opportunity to remind her that they were very much broken, and the splintering wave of agony that crashed into her was enough to make her pivot to the side and hurl up what little food she had eaten between work and patrol, plus some blood for good measure. Thank goodness her suit’s visor had reflexively retracted before she did, or she…actually, she didn’t want to dwell on that particular ‘what if’ right now.
The sudden movement startled the demon-boy, and out of the corner of her eye she saw him flinch backwards before taking some tentative steps towards her. His brow was now furrowed in what might have been concern, had Valerie not known any better; his proclivity for acting out a range of human expressions – as if he was capable of feeling anything but rage and sadistic pleasure – had always managed to set her nerves on fire. In the state she was, though, her rage showed as little more than a guttering flame.
“Fuck off, hellspawn,” she spat through bitter saliva.
He shifted back a bit at the insult, expression morphing to annoyance though the underlying “concern” remained.
“Dude, my tail got fucking crushed by that fall,” he snipped, his words full of warped octaves and echoed tones that sent gooseflesh racing across her skin. “Guarantee you it’s broken. Is a ‘Thanks, Furcas, rather your spine than mine!’ too much to ask?”
Valerie’s eyes flitted to his tail and the sharp kink about two-thirds down its length. Compared to her own injuries, the pettiness of his complaints chafed against her raw nerves.
“So?” she rasped, contempt accented by a scowl. “You heal quickly. I’ve seen you reattach your own foot. It’s your own damn fault for tackling me through a fucking building.”
Whatever concern he was feigning was gone now. “Really?” he scoffed. “Actually, nevermind. I don’t know why I’m surprised, honestly. I’ve saved your thankless ass more times than I can count; what’s so different about today that has me expecting even a hint of gratitude?” he punctuated with an eye roll.
God, she could not stand him.
Another retort was brewing behind her teeth before she was forced to bite back a shriek, cramming it down her throat as another deep, stabbing pain shot through her midriff. No nausea this time (small mercies), yet so severe was the pain that it forced her to double over and lock her sides in a vice grip, eyes squeezed shut and breath held so hard that her ears rang.
As the pain receded slightly, though, it only made room for a sense of dread that had been quietly pooling in the pit of her stomach. Valerie had managed to keep herself from screaming, sure – but her pained expression was all too evident with her visor still retracted, not to mention her cradled arms that betrayed exactly where the worst of her injuries were concentrated.
Any demon-hunter worth their salt knows displaying weakness in front of a demon equals a death sentence.
She’d done just that. Twice over, no less. Plus, this particular demon was one Valerie had hunted relentlessly; no doubt he held a deadly grudge against her. Add onto that his territorial streak that drove him to neutralise any potential threat to him and his turf.
Is there a formula to calculate exactly how dead this all makes her?
Ha. Not like it really mattered, anyway – Valerie knew she was done for the moment she’d let that flesh-beast sink its teeth into her side. Her strength was flagging, breath coming in shallow, and it took all her concentration to not pass out where she knelt. Even if Furcas couldn’t see it, he could certainly sense it; he was staring her down in a way only a predator could, all bunched muscles and unblinking eyes. Valerie considered at least summoning one of her auto-turrets in an admittedly vain attempt to defend herself, but it was a fleeting thought, and she was too exhausted to chase it.
Despite better judgement, she let her head drop, resigned to her fate. Her throat tightened as she thought of her Daddy, her friends. Her Daddy was the only person in her life who knew she hunted demons, and he heavily disapproved of it. He would be absolutely broken. She was all he had left after the loss of her Mama; just her and Daddy against the world after he lost his position at Axiom and was forced to pay reparations, leaving them stone broke.
Tears pricked her eyes. Could her Daddy bear to identify her lifeless, mangled body for the police? Would there be a body after Furcas was done with her? Would he ever tell her friends what really happened to her? Or would they be left without answers, forever wondering if they could’ve helped her somehow? Could her Daddy keep going without her, or would he…
A cold weight on her shoulder wrenched Valerie out of her mental spiral. It was slow and gentle, but she flinched all the same.
“Red, where are you hurt?”
Of course he would be so cruel as to ask when it was blindingly obvious. Whether she wanted to snap at him or not was moot, though; she had no energy left.
“Look, I can see you’re in pain, and I can sense it. I’m sorry I snapped, it was stupid and I didn’t realise how bad you were hurt, and I get you’re in pain and it’s hard to talk but I need you to tell me where you’re hurt because we need to move but I can’t tell if it’s safe to move you or not and I won’t if I can’t but I need to know now so I can figure out what to do.”
The demon’s words grew quicker as he rambled, seemingly panicked yet he kept his tone low. Was this how he toyed with his victims? Leading them on with his desperate hero schtick until they let their guards down, only for him to pounce, revelling in the emotions of shock and betrayal as he took their life? The thought brought a renewed wave of rage that twisted Valerie’s gut into knots. Even on the verge of death, she wouldn’t allow herself to become a demon’s sick little plaything.
“Red, I’m serious. That other demon’s looking for us, and it’ll find us soon if we don’t move.”
There was no way she could trust him. She knew the nature of demons; all were predisposed to lying, trickery, and sadism. Despite what Furcas had the people of Amity believing, he was no different.
“Valerie!”
The sound of her name had her eyes flick up, unbidden. They met a face twisted in worry, urgency, and…fear.
He’s no different…
In that moment, the well-worn phrase lost all meaning. She’d later call it weakness. For now…it could pass as faith.
“…ribs…” was all she was able to force out.
Furcas’ eyes snapped to her midriff, staring as if he was seeing her bones underneath layers of suit, skin, and muscle. She wouldn’t be surprised if he could. “Anywhere else?”
She shook her head gently. Any harder and she’d puke again.
“Okay. Okay, I’m going to assume they’re broken. We should be fine to move, but I’m gonna have to carry you a little weirdly. It’s usually a two-person carry, but I can do it on my own just fine. Are you ready?”
Valerie paused before giving a small nod. Attempting to steel herself, she tried to take a deep breath. Bad idea: loose shards of bone voiced their protest and her lungs responded in kind, forcing the air back out as a pained whimper.
Furcas grimaced, took his own deep breath, and reached for her. Valerie felt his right paw cradle her back, positioning his thumb and forefinger under each of her armpits to gently lift her, eliciting another stifled cry as her jagged ribs were shifted. He slowed at this, but didn’t stop, carefully sliding his left paw underneath her thighs while his right continued to support her. Once secure, Furcas stood to full height and lifted her clear of the ground, all in one smooth motion.
Only then did the demon-boy pause, taking a moment to assess Valerie. The screeching pain now quelled to an all-consuming ache, Valerie felt a strange sense of unreal clarity seep into her as she raised her head to meet Furcas’ worried, yet steely gaze.
Here she was. Valerie Gray. The Red Huntress. A human that struck fear and loathing into any demon that dared cross her.
Sitting in the paws of her demonic nemesis as if they were the world’s most comfortable chair.
And here he was. Furcas. The demon-child. An anomaly who’s true motives have eluded demon experts since his appearance almost three years prior.
Cradling his long-time assailant with the care and knowledge of someone that has dealt with broken ribs in humans, knowledge he simply shouldn’t have.
Existential observations aside, Valerie’s attention was pulled back to Furcas, who’s gaze had turned…searching? His eyes were locked firmly on hers, staring so deep that she could feel his aura combing over her soul. In all its violations of spiritual sanctity, though, it didn’t feel invasive. A vague memory crept into her mind –
Near buried in sleep, her bedroom door cracked open, a sliver of light cutting through her room’s comforting dim as her Daddy checked in on her one last time before he, too, went to bed.
She knew he did it every night, but she was either fully awake or asleep, and she’d felt there was something special about the memory coupled with its circumstance. The vulnerability, the care, the love. But why–
Her blood ran cold.
Furcas – a demon – made her feel that.
So consumed with this new crisis she was that she barely registered Furcas tearing his eyes away in favour of scanning their surroundings, leaving her staring blankly at his head as her brain warred to make sense of the experience.
Ever since she got her new suit, Valerie knew she couldn’t connect with other humans as deeply. No matter how much she buried that feeling, she knew. Over time she had – forcefully, mind you – made some peace with this new facet of her life. A small price to pay for the safety of humans – for my vengeance, she’d told herself.
It’d never crossed her mind (and why would it?) that a demon could ever possibly provide that sense of intimacy she’d been unwillingly craving for so long. And, of course, this little earth-shattering revelation had to happen now, of all times.
A quiet question rose from the fragile and untouched corners of her mind – when was the last time I really bared my soul to anyone, allowed myself to be vulnerable?
Danny, maybe.
Nope. No. Not diving down that rabbit hole. Valerie squeezed her eyes shut, redirecting her focus into her chest. Pain was a horribly effective grounding tool – one she was guilty of utilising frequently – and she was going to take full advantage of it right now to not think about that person.
That boy.
That hapless, awkward kid who was so terrified of demons that he’d drop everything and hide at the mere whispers of a demon sighting.
That sweet boy whose head was in the clouds until the topic turned to space, in which he somehow rose further, rambling on and on with a lilt to his voice and stars dancing in his eyes as if their true home lay within those clear blue irises.
That beautiful soul that she so desperately wanted to spill all her secrets to, consequences be damned and –
No. She squeezed her abdomen, bringing forth a new rush of pain that cut off her rampant thoughts.
I can’t bring him into this.
I won’t bring him into this.
Never.
Valerie forced her eyes open, attempting to ground herself in her surroundings while simultaneously taking stock of her situation. To her surprise – mostly because she’d been…preoccupied – Valerie found they’d started moving. Furcas had elected to hover, presumably to reduce the risk of jostling her, and was fluidly weaving his way around the desks, chairs, and cabinets that furnished the office space. Around…?
She turned her head, but before she could get a word out Furcas answered the unasked question as if he’d anticipated it.
“Shadow-melding leaves a…trail, I guess. It’s something that a demon can sniff out, and it can be picked up with the right tech too,” he explained, sparing her the occasional glance as he talked. “I had a duplicate distract the demon before I passed us through all those floors, but it was taken out a minute ago. Guy’s gonna be on our ass even quicker if I leave them anything else to follow. I made a weaker dupe and it’s playing decoy, but once it’s found we’re sorta fucked with the state you’re in.”
Well, that was more of an answer than she was ready for. Valerie felt her mind reel at the knowledge that Furcas can duplicate himself, but it was reined back in by a nagging feeling of something being forgotten, something dangerously important. She latched onto the thought, pushing it to the forefront of her mind to take form before forcing it out on shallow breaths.
“Demons…track human scent. Decoy won’t…work…”
Furcas pursed his lips at that, locking his eyes firmly ahead as he flew them down a stairwell. If she was to believe his expressions were accurate, the expression he currently wore wasn’t one that screamed ‘Oh Shit’. No, it leaned towards ‘You’re not gonna like what I’ve done’.
The town hero, always a beacon of reassurance.
Though most words were currently beyond her, Valerie knew the scathing glower she fixed upon the demon’s face would communicate exactly what she wanted to say.
Fess up, shithead.
To her pleasant surprise, the denizens of Hell – or at least the younger ones – weren’t fully immune to the soul-rending power of a dirty look from a teenage girl. Even Valerie found herself scared of her own kind on occasion.
Furcas’ cheeks took on a sickly shade of grey as he physically turned his head in a fruitless attempt to spare himself of her ire.
“The decoy’s fine. It’ll work,” he said stiffly.
They both knew that wasn’t the answer Valerie was looking for, and…just…rrgh! Why did he have to be so difficult!! If the cost of his carelessness would be her life, she was going to use every ounce of determination she could muster to make him spill his guts (only figuratively, to her dismay).
Another Look shot his way proved to be exponentially effective, the demon’s discomfort crumbling away to reveal embarrassment. So he had forgotten about the trail of human-scent they were leaving for the enemy! Shit, he might as well be smearing their path with neon paint!!! Fucking stupid shit-for-brains demon moron–
“Chill, would you?! Your anger tastes nasty even on a good day,” Furcas ground out. “This building isn’t our typical battleground; it’s densely populated. Meaning there’s heaps of fresh human smells here to mask your own. And,” he punctuated, seeing her about to interject, “I’m well aware you’re covered in blood and sweat and all that, which does make you easier to sniff out. So I…um…the decoy – which I know is still me, which makes it so gross and weird but–”
“Spit it out, Shakespeare,” she snipped, not caring how it made her chest seize in pain.
The foul greyish tone had spread past his cheeks now, darkening the tips of his pointed ears and encompassing the better half of his face. Was he…blushing? Or was he going to be sick? Both options were equally as off-putting.
“I…ugh, I…had my double…rub himself in your blood and puke…” he muttered, almost inaudible, “…so he’d make a more believable scent trail…”
Valerie’s face twisted into a mask of shock and disgust at this, though she couldn’t ignore the small pang of relief she felt at knowing they were safe for even just a minute longer. Having that be the cost of their safety, though? The thought peaked and crashed back down into another wave of disgust.
Furcas, however, had finally grasped the concept of ignorance and was now busying himself with scanning the new floor they found themselves on. His eyes landed on a point at the far side of the floor and Valerie heard a sickening sch-thwup as wings burst from his back and he soared across the room, this time not even bothering to manoeuvre around the desks in favour of just flying over them.
Distance cleared, he brought them smoothly to a stop, floating in front of what Valerie now saw was two bathroom doors. There was a moment’s pause as he seemed to contemplate something, eyes flitting between his paws, Valerie’s hands, and the push-style doors.
A frustrated huff signalled the end of his mental war and, after folding his wings away, he shouldered one of the doors open. The bathroom – which turned out to be the women’s – was about the size Valerie expected of an office; three stalls (one handicapped), two sinks, and just enough room between those facilities for two people to stand shoulder-to-shoulder. Furcas took her to the furthest stall, using his foot to nudge the door open and flip down the toilet lid so he could gently place her on top of it.
Valerie glared up at him, feeling her previous distrust resurge. There was no way that he was doing all this to “save” her, so what the hell was this monster’s endgame? Did his hero act always go this far?
“What’s your deal?” she all but growled at him.
“We’re doing this again, then?” Furcas huffed, folding his arms. He took a deep breath and continued with a forced calm, “My deal is that I’m trying to keep you alive. As much as you can be a pain in the ass, I don’t want you dead; or anyone, for that matter. So can you quit being all pissy for like, two minutes so we can both get out of this intact?” Despite the vitriol, he kept his voice low, still keenly aware of their situation.
A short stare down ensued between the two; Furcas’ face set in a stony expression, and Valerie glaring what she wished were holes through the demon’s stupid head. His stubbornness was palpable, a near impenetrable barrier that her fury crashed and rebounded off, incensing her further. She felt her fingers curl around a phantom trigger, wishing so sorely to just blast him into swiss cheese, but the shifting pains in her chest pulled her rage inwards once more, and she let her mind follow.
Her suit, she was thankful to find, had taken advantage of her short reprieve to weave itself through her insides, filling in punctures and locking splintered bone back into place. She was still fragile but given a few more minutes she’d at least be stable enough to operate some of her gear. If he wanted to keep playing the good little demon and risk losing his carefully curated prey – fine. She was going to take full advantage of that.
“So, why a bathroom? Haven’t had your fill of human filth for the night?” Valerie quipped, unable to stop the insult. It probably wasn’t the smartest idea to keep making verbal jabs at a demon considering the state she was in, but she was annoyed and hurting and her last nerve had already boarded a flight to Fuck It town. Sue her.
Furcas, thankfully, only rolled his eyes in response. “Trust me, the last thing I want to do with my night is spend it with you in a room that reeks of piss,” his nose wrinkled as if to prove his point, “but I’ve got a plan now, and it’ll work best if we’re here.”
The demon paused, closing his eyes as his brow furrowed, and sucked a breath through his teeth. The atmosphere was tense, charged. Valerie tensed with it, eyeing him warily.
Another beat of silence. He let out the breath he was holding with a sharp huff before fixing Valerie with an unsettlingly serious look.
“I’m gonna cut to the chase, Red. I need you to form a contract with me.”
…
…huh?
Out of all the things Valerie expected to hear from him, this was not one of them.
Furcas was known for a lot of things – how could he not be, considering his prevalence in Amity – but he was never known for making contracts. People would claim otherwise every now and again, but there was never any proof.
Other demons made them to varying degrees, enough so that almost everyone in Amity had the mark of one old contract or another. Yet the fact that no-one had been discovered to bear Furcas’ mark…abnormal would be putting it lightly.
The abnormal demon in question flicked his crooked tail impatiently, the movement snapping Valerie out of her stupor as she belatedly realised she’d just been staring at him in silence. Despite the mental curveball he’d pitched her, however, she knew what her response would be.
“Hell no.”
A muscle in Furcas’ jaw twitched and his frown deepened, clearly not surprised with her response but annoyed all the same.
“I knew you’d say that. Now-”
“Why bother asking if you knew the answer?” Valerie cut in, prickling in irritation at his sheer audacity, and her voice picked up in volume, “Fuck your plan, I’m-”
“WOULD YOU SHUT UP AND LET ME FINISH?!” the demon’s warped voice thundered, lips curled back in a fanged snarl that distorted his face beyond human expression. His arms had unfolded to grip the frame of the stall with enough force to splinter the cheap plywood, looming over her as the ambient temperature plummeted.
Valerie’s mouth snapped shut as a primal fear took hold; she’d pushed him too far.
Her breath came shallow, a stark contrast to the deep, rumbling snarls emanating from the beast before her. Valerie’s instincts screamed to not look away, but she had little choice; the glow in the demon’s eyes had brightened to blinding levels, becoming a pair of neon floodlights that lit up their surroundings in green. Adrenaline flooded her system, tensing her muscles and urging her to fight or flee despite being incapable of either, serving only to further compound her anxiety. He can sense all this, too, the more unhelpful part of her brain reminded.
All at once, the light dimmed and growling ceased, leaving only the sound of her own light breath. Swallowing dryly, she dared to look up.
Furcas stood, eerily frozen and expressionless. He remained in his threatening pose, claws dug into the now-crushed stall frame, but he projected no aggression, his unfocused eyes gazing over Valerie’s head.
A couple impossibly long seconds passed. The chill in the bathroom dropped further, causing Valerie to shiver.
An unearthly voice broke the silence.
“Decoy’s gone. It’s coming.”
Those four words crashed into Valerie like a semi, sending her mind reeling as she grasped for the second time that night just how fucked she was. Feeling herself going lightheaded with panic, she wrapped her arms around herself and squeezed her half-healed ribs. Thankfully, the fresh wave of pain grounded her, and she used that opportunity to catch up with her still-racing thoughts and put them in some semblance of order.
First, and most pressingly, the first demon would be here within minutes, and with the taste of Valerie’s blood still fresh on its tongue she would undoubtedly be its first target. Even if the demon wasn’t juiced up on human blood, she knew she was in no state to take it on solo. She needed a plan.
Leading into her second problem: Furcas, who had backed up and was now crouched slightly, with wide and wary eyes roaming the small bathroom.
His eyes landed back on her, narrowing slightly before turning his head away with a clipped growl.
“There’s no time to argue with you, so just forget it. I’ll figure something else out,” he said, tone short and tight, then muttering “Like I always do.”
Valerie chose not to dwell on his words, instead focusing on predicting what Furcas might do in the coming minutes. ‘Know thy enemy’ and all that.
He hadn’t left, which meant he was going to fight the demon. This didn’t surprise Valerie; Furcas was viciously protective of his territory and its residents, and as such tended to attack anything that could pose a threat. On top of that, though she was loathe to admit it, he did a decent job of keeping humans safe during a demon attack, always favouring their wellbeing over his own.
Did that protectiveness extend to her, though? Valerie knew Furcas had protected her in the past – hell, he’d just gone through pains in an attempt to save her sorry ass. And how did she repay that? By royally pissing him off.
As it was, her status as both human and hunter had her bordering dangerously close between ally and threat to Furcas. Despite this, Valerie was fairly confident he wouldn’t kill her right now, thanks to the more immediate threat the other demon posed to his territory. That confidence did not extend to if Furcas would intercept a nasty attack aimed at her. The thought was disquieting, though she couldn’t peg why; she had long grown used to fending for herself, after all.
Whatever. Valerie had her answer: let the demons tear each other apart and focus on stopping any stray claws from shredding her to ribbons.
And that was the third problem, wasn’t it? So much of her gear was made for hunting. She had a shield, sure, but it was part of her hoverboard, and that thing was not built for manoeuvring in small spaces. Valerie struck it from her options, wracking her brain for anything else to use.
Stun grenades? She was unaffected by them thanks to her visor; it automatically darkened in response to bright light. But…they would stun both demons. She couldn’t take out both at once, not in her current state. Even if she miraculously neutralised the more dangerous demon, Furcas would remain, only more furious from getting flash banged. No dice.
Paralysis darts? Their effect wasn’t immediate, and whichever demon got shot would have more than enough time to mince her before they were fully paralysed. Not happening.
Wait…was there…? Yes! Temporary shield capsules! Valerie had all but forgotten about them as they were mostly a single-use failsafe for the rare occasion she couldn’t redirect an attack in time, but they were better than nothing.
Her relief was short-lived, though; it had been so long since she’d needed them, and she knew she’d slacked on restocking them as a result. Valerie cursed her own carelessness as she directed her suit to take inventory on the item.
“Shield Capsules – 3,” the suit reported in a feminine robotic tone.
Shit.
Fuck it. She’d have to make do. There wasn’t any other option, after all, and the wispy thoughts of Furcas’ plan were quashed with prejudice because trusting a demon was not an option.
In the half minute Valerie had used to scotch-tape a plan, the air had grown stale and oppressive, and it wasn’t just her that had noticed. Snow-white fur was raised in sharp hackles down Furcas’ neck, a low warning growl rolling past bared fangs. Despite not being directed at Valerie this time, she still couldn’t help the shard of cold dread that penetrated her chest.
Clamping down on her fear, Valerie strained her ears for any signs of the approaching threat, sifting through the ambient noise. The muted groans of the building settling. Furcas’ steady breathing. Water flowing through pipes in the wall. The hum of her suit.
Slowly, cautiously, she rose to stand, willing her visor closed to re-shield her face. Nanobots crept down her arm, stealthily forming a pist-
CRASH
Rubble and dust exploded forth as the ceiling caved, crushing stalls and sinks that gushed water, all warning before the clouds of plaster gave way to a twisted, fleshy mass barrelling towards them. Finishing her gun’s formation in a flash – all plans thrown bodily out the window – Valerie whipped an unsteady arm in front of her –
Furcas was faster, a monochrome blur that shot forth with a roar to grapple the beast away, engaging it in a war of writhing limbs and snapping fangs. Steadying her aim, relief briefly lightened Valerie’s heart but vanished moments later as Furcas was slammed down and pinned beneath a grotesque paw. One beady eye caught sight of her weapon and the flesh-demon lashed out with the swing of a misshapen arm, talons primed to rend flesh from bone.
A sharp squeeze of the trigger and her gun fired, shot deflecting the limb with a satisfying crack as the force of impact snapped it askew.
The flesh-demon howled, layers of pain, bloodlust, hunger, and fury blending into a gruesome cacophony, compounded by the horrid stench of rot that billowed from its maw. Numerous coal-orange eyes rolled in their sockets before stilling in unison, all fixed on their attacker: Valerie.
She didn’t wait for its next move, already activating the first shield capsule which sprung into being just in time to rebound a second, more ferocious attack from the slavering monster. It shattered in spectacular fashion, stunning the demon for mere moments, but it was enough.
Without hesitation, Valerie switched rounds, firing off a paralysis dart then using her free hand to trigger the final two shields in layers around her. Glancing at the demon’s hide only to find it unmarked, her eyes flitted to the now-soaked floor, catching sight of a furiously struggling Furcas, and her damaged dart still full of paralytic. Fuck.
Another ear-spitting roar accompanied the next attack, a wide slash that decimated the second-to-last shield. Valerie didn’t flinch, switching back to damaging rounds and strengthening her posture.
The demon’s frustration was palpable, a crushing force that pressed in on all sides. Valerie gritted her teeth against it, standing firm as the final shield took its blow and disintegrated into a rain of glimmering shards.
A vile grin split across the monster’s face, the sight of its fangs a mocking reminder of the wounds in Valerie’s side, the threat of a job unfinished. They both knew it was the end for her, and they both knew resistance was pointless.
And yet, they both knew she wouldn’t go down without a fight. Not this time.
It crouched. She tensed.
I’m sorry, Daddy.
The demon launched forward, jaws ripping open, and Valerie fired her pistol, not caring where her shot landed but hoping, praying to whatever deity that took mercy on her, that it would do enough to delay her death by even a second. A greenish tint glazed her vision and, to her horror, Valerie saw her shot fizzle out into nothing. The demon was a moment from mangling her, she was done for, she –
The beast’s face crumpled in midair a mere foot from her own, momentum carrying through in its body which also collided with an invisible barrier. No, not invisible – the green she was seeing was a shield. A light pierced through the dim that drew her eye to a raised paw, digits outstretched and pads glowing an eerie green-white.
The shield dissipated, leaving the flesh-demon to collapse in a heap, and the paw’s owner – one now-freed Furcas – leapt fluidly around the demon and behind Valerie, twisting to face their shared foe. His arms re-entered her vision on both sides as he flung them forward, paws lighting up again to manifest a new, denser shield that encompassed the two in a dome.
Despite refusing to turn around – not willing to remove her eyes from the more immediate threat – the injuries on even just Furcas’ arms were evident to Valerie; his normally pristine white fur was stained with his black blood, the undried ichor trickling from his arms in glistening tracks. Fresh beads of ichor welled up from beneath his claws, many of which were cracked and with one just plain missing. His chest was inches from her head, close enough that Valerie could hear the rattle of each ragged breath and the rapid pulsing of his heart – or whatever served its function.
“What’s this thing’s deal?” Furcas rasped, voice close above her. As if in response, the dazed flesh-demon rose and shook its head, the movement causing residual ripples in its loose, lumpy hide. In seeing its prey once again barred from it, the flesh-demon bellowed murderous cadence before flinging itself against the shield in a bloodthirsty frenzy.
The display of raw violence was enough to startle an already-rattled Valerie, but if Furcas was fazed he sure didn’t show it, only reinforcing his shield against the crazed flurry of attacks.
“This breed isn’t usually this strong, and you beat it up to boot, so why-” he cut off mid-sentence.
The air took on a biting chill in the moments that followed, the pause dense enough to dilate seconds into hours.
“-oh no.” Furcas finally muttered, incredulous, before his voiced raised over the thudding and grunting, “You let it bite you?! Damnit, Red!!”
Valerie whipped around, indignant despite herself, and – yeah, the rest of Furcas looked like shit too; snapped horn, bleeding head wound, cuts all over, the works. Not like she could talk, though.
“Hey, fuck you! I know for a fact you get bit more than you bite!” she defended, a pitiful retort against the look of pure mortification he gave her; demons didn’t get an insane power boost from drinking each other’s blood, after all.
“You know that’s- ugh, whatever!” Furcas exclaimed, sweat trickling down a brow creased in concentration. “I can’t beat this thing on my own, not while protecting you, and I’m too tapped to make another double. There’s no other option at this point, we needa do that contract – that way you can use my power to shield yourself while I whale on this guy.”
The mere mention of the contract set Valerie on edge all over again – but really, what other option did she have? Still –
“Not happening. What’s the point of me getting outta here alive if you’re just gonna demand half my organs as payment?” she challenged, glancing back at the frenzied monster; its attacks had started to crack the shield.
Furcas gritted his teeth at a particularly heavy blow before recomposing himself. “How’s this,” he started, voice taking on a new, yet equally unearthly cadence, “The Demon Furcas Shall Provide His Power To The Human Valerie Gray To Use Without Limit For The Duration Of One Battle, Payment Of Which Shall Be Judged And Decided On Mutually At The Cessation Of Said Battle.”
With that, the demon lowered his right paw to offer to Valerie, raising his brow in a silent question; are these terms acceptable?
Valerie so, so badly wanted to tell him no, wanted to believe it all a trick so she had reason to refuse, but…the more she mulled over his words, the more realistic a contract with him seemed. Despite the shortness, she couldn’t find fault in his wording; each term was clear and concise. Moreover…the promise that payment would be settled with mutual agreement…it was just barely enough to sway her.
And so the hunter turned fully, raising her right hand to grasp his.
“You’ve got a deal, demon.”
A wash of emotions overtook Furcas’ features before he beamed, a fang-filled grin lighting up his face.
“I Seal This Contract On My Name As Furcas,” he stated, still grinning as his massive paw curled around Valerie’s hand, dwarfing it as he shook it firmly.
A glow encompassed their hands, followed by a freezing burn as runes carved themselves into her wrist, identical to the equally bright ones on Furcas’ waist. As the light faded, the symbols faded with it, but Valerie had no doubt they were branded on the skin beneath her suit.
Furcas released her hand, grin faltering as the shield cracked further. “Great. Now, put your hands on this shield for me,” he instructed in his usual tone, putting his own hand back on the barrier and sending a fresh pulse of energy through it, the fractures healing some.
“Don’t get bossy with me, demon-boy,” Valerie scoffed, but she complied anyway, turning back to the damaged shield and the raging demon it just barely held at bay. Raising her arms, she splayed her fingers and cautiously pushed them against the shield, having to stifle a gasp as a cold energy flooded her body.
“You can feel it, right? The energy.” Furcas spoke from behind her, leaning in so close that his chest brushed her back. Gross. Valerie only nodded in response.
“Good. Try pushing it into the shield.”
Valerie shot a glare over her shoulder – ugh, his face was right next to hers.
“How?!” she hissed.
“I dunno, how do you make your suit do anything?!” he shot back, exasperated. “Just think about it or something!”
Think about it?? Valerie growled in irritation, turning her focus inward. On the feeling of each frigid wave of power, on its ebb and flow. On the way it was almost timed to her heartbeat.
The feeling was eerily similar to that of her suit.
Pushing aside that implication for later, Valerie centred in on the cold, imagining it to instead be warm and electric. If she could just grasp that feeling…
…there! She held it just barely by the ends; the slippery tail of a fish on a hook, the first thread peeking through a needle’s eyelet. It needed to be carefully coaxed.
The power rippled and twisted, fluctuating as the sensations of familiar and foreign clashed up against each other. Valerie's stress mounted exponentially, every second of forced calm in this internal storm akin to drip torture, desperation threatening to tip the scales into panic –
– until something clicked deep within; a line pulled, a needle threaded. The rhythmic pulse synced with her heartbeat, the cool energy an oddly welcome companion to the heat of her suit.
Now in control, it took little effort to push Furcas' power into the barrier. Despite the slashing and pummelling from the flesh-demon, Valerie could only watch in awe as the cracks in the shield partially receded, creeping backwards like time itself was reversing.
"Holy shit." At that, Valerie glanced over her shoulder to a stunned Furcas. The corner of his lip quirked up. "I mean, I expected you to be fast, but damn. Good job, Red," he commended.
"I don't need compliments from a demon," Valerie scowled; if anything came close to her hatred for demons, it was being patronised.
Furcas' smile turned mischievous. "Got it. You'll be fine if I let go, then?" And with no more warning he withdrew his paws, causing the shield to dull and the cracks to advance yet again.
Valerie gasped in shock and hurried to push more power into the shield, the lack of aid now making the task just barely manageable. Thankfully, it regained its colour, halting the damage.
"You dick! What the fuck!" she exclaimed, glaring daggers at him.
The demon-boy raised his paws, eyes wide with faux-innocence. "Hey, you seemed like you had a handle on things. And I wasn't wrong – you're a natural," he grinned.
"Bite me."
"Someone already beat me to it," he teased, eyes flitting to her abdomen.
Before she could retort again, a guttural bellow filled the bathroom. Valerie's attention snapped forward to observe the enraged flesh-demon; it had backed up slightly, rasping and panting as ropes of foamy spittle swayed from its rotten maw. Tense muscles pulled patches of its hide taut, and its bloodshot-black eyes quivered with blind fury.
"Oh, yeah. We should probably deal with that," Furcas said from behind her, almost casually. He stepped forward into the edge of her vision.
On seeing movement the beast lowered itself, talons carving tile with the ease of a hot knife through butter. Its skin rippled with every twitch of its muscles, sagging lips pulled back to bare every last jagged tooth. Valerie cursed herself vehemently for letting the demon get so needlessly riled up, distracted by Furcas' stupid shenanigans – she knew better, for fuck's sake! This thing had been denied its prey twice over, and more than ever it wanted blood.
Yet despite being challenged by the monster that had outclassed him just a minute ago, Furcas showed no signs of submission. He kept his eyes forward and stood tall, tail swaying gently, icy claws peeking out as he flexed his digits.
"Keep the shield intact and don't drop it ‘till I give the word," he cautioned, balling one paw to reach back and lightly tap Valerie's shoulder.
For once, no retort sharpened her tongue. Maybe it was the blood loss. Either way, she simply huffed and said "Whatever. Don't gotta tell me twice."
Only then did Furcas turn back – just enough to make eye contact. The one eye she could see shone a piercing blue.
"Cool. Stay safe, Red."
With that he leapt at their foe, the barrier little more than a hologram to its creator. The flesh-demon pounced as well, slavering jaws ready to clamp down on their prey, but Furcas ducked at the last moment and delivered a swift uppercut, snapping the beasts mouth shut and sending a sickening echo of teeth cracking bouncing around the lavatory.
Furcas didn't let up, hooking his claws deep into the flesh-demon's throat and hauling the beast clear over his head by its own momentum, its body colliding with Valerie’s barrier before slamming into the flooded ground with a wet slap-thud. The beast let out a distorted shriek on impact, writhing and swinging its limbs, one of which clawed the shield and left deep gouges.
Fuck! It was already taking all her effort just to maintain the damn thing!! Valerie was almost tempted to leave the damage as-is, surely the shield could still protect her, but – no, Furcas had warned her to keep it intact. Despite her loathing, she’d still put her trust in him, enough to form a contract; just this once, she’d heed his words.
And so Valerie strained beyond her limits, pinching her eyes shut and pushing what felt like her soul and then some into the barrier to close up the gashes. Cold sweat carved tracks down her body, her vision darkened at the edges, her muscles felt shredded, nausea flooded her from throat to gut, and her injured side boiled in agony.
Every inch of her screamed to stop, to rest, to give up –
– but she wouldn’t.
She couldn’t.
After an eternity of seconds, the frigid maelstrom of energy calmed as Valerie felt, rather than saw, the barrier seal shut. Still fighting to keep conscious – keep the shield up – she forced her eyes open, desperate for something, anything to focus on besides her tortured body. Through the darkness and haze, a blue light shone clearly
and with him now facing her, Furcas' eyes were shockingly clear, two blue beacons that cut through the darkness. His paws had begun to glow again, gradually increasing in luminosity. What was he planning?
The flesh-demon clamoured to its feet, revealing a back splintered with debris and dripping water and ichor. Instead of going for another attack, Furcas sidestepped to the sinks and slammed his paw onto a broken and spewing pipe, angling it to douse the beast with yet more water. The flesh-demon hissed and recoiled its head, squinting its numerous eyes against the spray.
“Over here, ugly!” Furcas taunted. It had the expected effect; blinking furiously, the flesh-demon roared and charged at him, only for Furcas to dodge the beast by a hair so it crashed headlong into the wall, shattering the mirrors and breaking more piping, effectively soaking the monster.
Furcas, on the other hand, had leapt into the air, hovering against the opposite wall. His paws had become so bright that they were near-blinding in the darkness of the bathroom, and as he raised them palm-up towards the sodden beast their light left a trail of afterimages burned into Valerie’s eyes. Pausing briefly, he glanced towards the hunter, giving a satisfied smile at seeing the barrier intact before turning his attention back to the dazed and dripping demon.
“Dude, you’re way too heated. I think I can help you ‘chill out’.”
The piercing blue light reached its peak, bursting forth in a flash of crackling energy that illuminated every corner of the bathroom, causing Valerie’s visor to darken to near-black in order to shield her eyes. A biting chill followed a second later, so rapid in onset that her involuntary shiver bordered on a full-body spasm, and as the light dimmed and her visor re-brightened, its cause became evident.
Frost coated the walls and ceiling, glittering faintly as it caught the fading light. The floor, an inch-deep in water only moments prior, was now blanketed by a sheet of solid ice. Pipes groaned in the relative silence, frozen mid-spray in a borderline cartoonish manner. All of that, however, paled in comparison to what had become of the beast itself.
The flesh-demon had been brought to a complete standstill. Its hide, once loose and rippling, was frozen solid, rolls of skin caught mid-sway. Wild, roving eyes were no more than frosted marbles set into its lumpy skull. An odd clicking sound echoed from its half-open mouth.
In the stillness of this incredible scene, movement caught Valerie’s eye; Furcas lowered his arms, paws once again dull though his eyes still shone intensely. He exhaled low and slow, vapour billowing from his mouth.
He’d frozen everything. Everything but…
Valerie’s foot shifted, water rippling around her soles. She looked down at the puddle contained in her shield, and the frozen debris that lay just beyond it. Another shiver overtook her, and it wasn’t from the cold.
As the shock of it all wore off, though, the tension that had gripped her for the past half hour began to leech from her body. Her body was begging to collapse, and she was so ready to just lie the hell down –
“Don’t drop that shield yet, Red.”
Bastard.
Yet she stayed standing – no energy to argue otherwise – with the shield dimming but still holding firm.
Furcas lowered himself to the ground, looking down as he –
Valerie blinked. Hard.
She watched as he plunged his arm deep into his chest.
Why the fuck was that the most disturbing thing she’d seen thus far? This whole night was just an absolute nightmare.
He rooted around in his chest for a few seconds before withdrawing a silver Fenton thermos, easily identifiable by the trademark blood-orange highlights. It was something he’d been seen with since even his earliest appearances, an undeniably stolen item.
Despite his large paws, he expertly unscrewed the cap and pointed it towards the snap-frozen demon, bathing it in a stream of bright light that dematerialised its body and sucked it into the confines of the device.
Recapping it with a sigh, his shoulders sagged in relief. The demon-boy then turned towards Valerie – “Battle’s ceased. You can let go now,” he said with a tired smile.
It was like a switch flipped. The moment he said those words, the pulsing currents of energy cut off and she barely registered a fresh warmth flooding her body before she passed out.
A dull ache permeated Valerie’s body, bringing with it the first wisps of awareness. Everything hurt. Especially her head…and her side.
It was cold, too. She shouldn’t be this cold…her suit kept her warm. It…it was summer, right. Summer wasn’t cold.
What…what was she lying on? It was hard, and things were poking uncomfortably into her back. Not her head…her head was on something soft.
Something dripped nearby, and it echoed. She could just catch the sound of breathing. Her own, and…
Valerie’s eyes flew open and she shot upright, paying the price immediately as her sore and sorry body screamed its protests at the sudden movement.
“Hey, take it easy Red. How are you feeling?”
She turned around steadily, considerate of her aching body. Furcas was sitting cross-legged, paws up in a disarming gesture.
“Fine.”
“Don’t bullshit, dude. You look terrible,” he deadpanned.
Valerie narrowed her eyes, unable to muster enough anger to truly glower at him, because yeah, she felt as terrible as she no doubt looked. She wasn’t admitting that to him, though.
She hesitated a bit, debating on whether she wanted to even know the answer to the question. Even if she didn’t like it, she had to know.
“How long was I out?” she slowly hazarded.
Furcas hummed, placing his paws into his lap. “Only a few minutes.”
“A few –” Valerie choked on the words. She’d been lying, unguarded, for minutes! How stupid could she get, letting her guard down to the point of passing out!
“It really wasn’t that long,” Furcas reassured. He paused a second before continuing. “Y’know, when I had my first fight, I was out cold for a couple hours afterwards.”
She looked him over, disbelieving. Not only was that lie completely transparent, it wasn’t even reassuring; this was by no means her first fight.
Almost reading her mind, he hurried to add, “Not that you’re inexperienced! Just – this was your first time really using demon powers, right? Not counting your suit.”
Valerie nodded slowly, still sceptical.
“Yeah, they – they really take a toll early on. But you did really well, like really well, especially for a human!” he praised, smiling.
For a human…the condescending phrase only heightened her irritation.
“Sure. Whatever,” she forced out, the only compromise her brain could reach between her pride and her safety. “Anyway,” she continued, dragging her legs around to turn more fully towards the demon, “Let’s talk payment.”
“Mm. Right,” Furcas said, suddenly reserved; he angled his head away some, brow furrowed in a complicated expression.
A long moment passed as he bit his lip, tapping his paws on his ankles like he didn’t know what to do with them. His silence set Valerie on edge. Eventually, his gaze flitted back towards Valerie.
“Do you have anything in mind?” he asked awkwardly.
Valerie felt herself torn between broiling impatience and stunned shock, leaving her bafflingly incredulous.
“You…” she started, struggling to piece together the insanity, “You dragged me into a contract….and you don’t…even know…what you want from me???” she emphasised each point with rising incredulity.
“No, I do! Well, sorta,” Furcas shook his head in a so-so motion. Helpful. “I guess I just wanna know if you have any…ideas? Requests? Any of that before I toss out my idea.”
“If your “idea” includes claiming any part of my body, then you can forget it,” she said coldly.
Furcas’ face was awash with grey at that, ears flattened back and mouth hanging open – he looked mortified.
“You – that’s –” he stuttered, burying his face in his palms, “Ancients, no.”
No?? Then –
“Then what do you want?!” Valerie exclaimed despite herself, throwing out her arms; his roundabout attitude paired poorly with her impatience. “‘Cause you’re not getting my soul either, just so you know!”
“..mmdnnwhnyhshrhh..”
“What??”
“I don’ want your soul, either,” he groaned through a crack in his paws.
Valerie resisted the urge to strangle him. Every fucking second with this shyster was a test on her patience, every false motive and faked emotion a chip in her mental fortitude. At least the other demons made it easy by being up-front with their twisted desires; trying to get a read on Furcas was like pulling teeth.
Yet she was still keenly mindful of her lack of defenses to the demon sitting right in front of her, and so Valerie took a deep breath and pressed her shaking palms into her thighs. It hardly helped, but she hoped that faking the calm would be enough to get her through unscathed.
“So,” Valerie began, voice carefully measured, “You don’t want my body –” another muffled groan from Furcas, “– and you don’t want my soul. I…” she trailed off, at a loss. Every demon she’d dealt with wanted some derivative of those two things; blood, skin, organs, a body to control, a body to abuse, emotions, memories, desires, a soul to violate or keep as a plaything – the list only went on.
He wanted none of that. None of that…from her…
“If you think –” realisation struck Valerie, her fists balled in a white-knuckle rage, “– that I’m gonna sell out my family and fr-”
“Can you stop with this fucked-up guessing game?!” Furcas cut off, head finally leaving his paws. “Like, Ancients, sorry I asked!! Noted!! Now, if you’re done, can I please give my suggestion for payment??” he cried, gesturing emphatically.
Valerie pursed her lips. Anything she could think a demon would want, he’d refused – clearly, whatever he’d ask for would be worse beyond imagination.
“Fine. Go ahead.”
Furcas eyed her dubiously, as if expecting more from her. Valerie only waited. He clasped his paws in his lap, and when he spoke, his voice was quiet yet sure.
“I want to talk.”
If Valerie thought she was blindsided earlier, this was a mental haymaker.
The demon continued, picking back up to a normal volume. “I want us to meet up a few times and talk. About…anything, really. To get to know each other better – like, we’ve known each other for what, almost three years now, and I can count the number of real conversations we’ve had on one hand. I just –” he exhaled tiredly, “– I’m sick of fighting, Red.”
That made Valerie find her voice again. “You’re joking, right? ‘Cause there’s no way you’re seriously asking me to get all buddy-buddy with the same demon that ruined my life,” she jabbed. “And am I seriously supposed to believe that that’s all you want? Just to talk? D’you think I’m stupid?”
The demon let out a long-suffering sigh. “In order: no I’m not joking, we don’t have to be “buddy-buddy”, yes that’s all I’m asking for, and I don’t think you’re stupid. But you clearly don’t believe me.”
“No shit.”
“…do you know what I value, Red?”
The sudden change of subject caught Valerie off-guard. “What you…value?” she drew out the word.
“Demon, human, doesn’t matter; we all value things differently. And those values influence how contracts are made,” Furcas explained.
“…uh-huh…” she replied.
“See, most demons value human…parts, for lack of a better word – so I can’t really blame you for thinking I do too. But I don’t. Or, actually – I do, but I value humans so highly that I could never trade for one. Am I – does that make any sense?” he hedged, capping off his gesticulating ramble.
Valerie paused, piecing together his words. “You’re tryna say you can’t ask me for any “human parts” ‘cause you can’t offer anything that meets their value.” As strange as it was, if true it offered a measure of relief.
That infuriatingly complex expression returned to Furcas’ face and his eyes fell to his lap. “No…not quite. I –” he clenched and unclenched his paws, “– you’re right, technically, but…I value humans as they are. That’s why I protect them – why I prot-” he cut off, expression pained.
The demon took a short, sharp breath before fixing his attention back on Valerie. “The reason I’m not asking for human tribute isn’t because I can’t. It’s because I don’t want that,” he emphasised with renewed firmness.
“Right. You want to “talk”. Which is so much more believable,” she said dryly.
“It is, actually,” he shot back in the same tone. “Look, I’ll make it simple: demons are hedonistic – we both know that. We pursue things that bring us pleasure. I like getting to know people. That’s what I want. The end.”
“Okay, and then what? I’m just supposed to swing by Hell for a catch-up and trust not just you, but every demon to not vaporise my ass on sight?!”
Furcas huffed, irritated, “No, ‘cause I’m not stupid enough to stroll around Hell and expect to not get vaporised myself. Some demons want your head for hunting them, even more want mine for just existing.”
[tbc]