Entanglement

“Surprise, surprise. Little Wally hiding behind a wall of guns again, I see. How well did that work for you last time?” Dante sneered.

“Do you really think you can possibly abduct me again?” Azlynn said. “I’m easily ten times more powerful than anything you’ve ever dealt with.”

“Rather full of yourself, aren’t you?” Morrison said, smirking.

“Says the man who pissed himself when I tossed him like a rag doll,” Dante scoffed.

“That mouth will get you into trouble someday, DeMarco.”

“Bring it.” They glared at each other for a few moments in silence, Dante’s fists clenched at his sides. He was so ready to hit someone. Preferably Morrison. And Walden. He took a menacing step forward.

“Are you really willing to bring this entire hospital down on all these innocent people’s heads?” Walden said smoothly, making Dante halt in his approach. “You’re a pathetic motherfucker Wally, you know that?”

“You can’t win this fight,” Azlynn said, sounding almost bored. “I can wipe you all out in a blink.”

“Wouldn’t that be going against all your angelic, protective instincts?” Morrison said mockingly.

“I protect the innocent,” she replied mildly. “You are far from it. Besides, I don’t need to kill any of you to subdue you.”

“I do,” Dante muttered. He’d just been waiting for an opportunity to tear Walden’s smug face off. As Azlynn opened her mouth to speak again, Dante saw Morrison move out of the corner of his eye. It looked like he was doing some sort of spell, and the air around him began to grow dark and hazy.

“Oh no you don’t, asshole.” Dante charged him, ramming his fist into his nose with a satisfying crunch. Whatever nonsensical words Morrison had been muttering ceased, and the air became normal again.

“Shoot him!” Walden shouted. But Azlynn was quicker than Walden’s goons.

“Drop your weapons!” she ordered. “And…do the funky chicken.”

The look on Walden’s face was downright comical as all his highly trained snipers dropped their guns and began dancing around in circles and flapping their arms like drunken idiots.

“Really?” Charlotte said. She was standing against the wall, shooting Azlynn a look. Azlynn shrugged innocently.

“Your demon is showing,” Charlotte quipped.

Dante still had his hands locked on the front of Morrison’s uniform. “You’re the son of a bitch who ratted Azlynn out to Homeland Security aren’t you?” Dante asked.

“Yes,” Morrison replied, a faintly manic look gleaming in his eyes.

“How did you convince Wally over there to keep you around when Lawson told him you were in league with the demons running this whole thing? Wasn’t he trying to find out who was behind the killings?”

“At first he was,” Morrison said. “But people without power always want it, and those who have it always want more.”

“He was working for the True Form?” Dante asked, aghast.

“Not exactly,” Walden supplied the answer for him. “I was helping to gather supernatural creatures, but I wasn’t working directly with TFS. I work for Leviathan, actually.”

Dante grinned wickedly. “Didn’t you hear, screwball? Your operation is under new management.” He felt a sense of satisfaction that Walden actually looked uneasy. “What are you talking about?” he demanded.

“Azlynn, would you like me to inform these two morons that they’ve been demoted?”

“Please do.”

“Didn’t I tell you once that I was going to rip your head off your shoulders?” Dante asked Morrison. The Dark Mage’s eyes widened, and he started to hastily say another spell. Dante rammed his knuckles into his face again. “Shut your fucking mouth,” he snapped. “Your sad little parlor tricks aren’t gonna save you now. Take it like a man.” Dante socked him in the throat, sending Morrison to his knees on the ground, choking. Dante raised his foot and kicked him hard in the face. Morrison jerked back, slamming his back against the wall.

Dante planted his foot against the center of Morrison’s chest and reached down, gripping the back of his head and sinking his claws into the tissue right where Morrison’s spine met his skull.

“Sweet dreams, Craig.” Dante yanked, and with a crack like a gunshot, Morrison’s head came unattached. “Think fast, Wally.” Dante threw the gory, severed head at a pale-faced Walden. He immediately flinched back, but some of Morrison’s blood splattered on his suit. He turned to run down the hall, his body guards still happily flapping and clucking away.

Dante caught him before he’d even made it three steps. He sent him crashing to the floor, his jaw hitting the tile with a smack. Walden tried to wriggle away, but Dante planted a foot firmly on his back. “I’m sorry to have to tell you this, Director,” Dante said cheerfully. “But in the immortal words of Donald Trump: you’re fired.” Dante allowed his fire energy to flow out of him and into Walden. He superheated the director from the inside out, slowly melting away his insides as the fire spread outward to consume his flesh as well.

Walden screamed and flailed, trying to get free. The smell of burning skin and hair was nearly overwhelming. Finally Walden was reduced to nothing but a pile of bloody ash. There was silence in the hallway, aside from the ridiculous funky chicken song the snipers were humming.

Then Charlotte let out a low whistle. “Damn, Dante.”

“That’s what I call Texas barbecue,” Dante replied, stepping away from Walden’s remains. Morrison’s blood had leaked out all over the floor, a sharp contrast to the stark white of the tiles. Footsteps pounded down the hallway, and Lawson, Miller, and several of the other team members appeared around the corner, skidding to a halt and gaping at the carnage,

“Why is there a dead FBI agent in the hall?” Lawson asked warily.

“And why are those guys…dancing like that?” Miller added, eyeing the chicken boys with suspicion.

“Long story,” Dante said. “Hey Miller, I think there’s something I should warn you about-”

“Charlotte!” Miller ignored Dante and rushed to Charlotte, who gave him a startled look before he swept her into a crushing hug.

“Drew, what are you-” she gasped. Miller drew back and went to press his lips against hers. Charlotte made a sound of outrage and shoved him away. “Drew, what the hell are you doing? Have you lost your fucking mind?”

Stunned hurt filled Miller’s eyes, and Dante cringed. Ouch.