Wings & Horns

Chapter Three - Streets of Dante

Leo wasn't sure what he was expecting. Obviously something different. Perhaps a golden winged angel, smiling in delight to see him, yet at the same time wincing inwardly and maintaining a cool demeanour. It wasn't that. Although it had been human centuries, the pain was as fresh as though it had just happened.

Leo closed his eyes for a moment. Lately, his thoughts had been frazzled. Ever since he discovered de Fleur's corpse, Leo hadn't been able to gather himself, or his thoughts. The ache from earlier that night had faded to a dull hurt. He could ignore it. Leo glanced around the deserted street. IT was strange to find such a classy inn out here in the ghettos.

Leo sighed, passing by it.

He wasn't sure why both the Demons and the Angels were involved, but wanted to weigh the pros and cons of each side before affiliating with either.

The Demons. Unlike the Angels, they had fewer enemies, and didn't hide their depravity behind faked good intentions. As the humans said, "The road to Hell is paved with good intentions". Even so, this meant that they would find it easier to turn him into an expendable resource. That was what everyone expected of them. They wouldn't hesitate to gift him with a gruesome path to Oblivion.

The Angels. He'd have more free reign, but nowhere any other Monsterkind was involved. Even so, the Angels were the top of the supernatural food chain for a reason. It would be harder to get tips from the others however, things he'd normally be told. He'd only get the spick and span, only what he needed to know.

He needed more than that.

Glancing back at the out of place inn, Leo set himself to a decision. He'd look for de Fleur's identity here, what he'd chosen as a home, friends, his 'family', and everything in between.

Leo stopped at a shabby newsstand, with a rusted metal sign hanging over it.

'Arnie's Newspapers, Magazines, And More'

The 'And More' had been added in almost like the owner used a Sharpie to squeeze it in, trying to gain a crowd. It didn't seem to have worked. Leo tapped the desk rhythmically, peering over and looking for Arnie. The owner appeared to be in the back, behind a canvas cloth draped over a low piece of wood to hide the back of the shop from the front.

"Is that another human I hear?"

Leo smirked at that. "I suppose. Arnie, it's me. Malvent."

The shuffling from behind the cloth stopped. Then, quick thumps of footsteps hit the tarmac as Arnie pulled back the canvas with a disgruntled expression. Malvent studied the man carefully. He'd never personally met Arnie, but the Human had made quite a name for himself as a connoisseur of information amongst the 'higher' creatures. Interesting how these higher creatures were all categorized by the title 'Monster'.

Nevertheless, Leo had dutifully followed a trail of rumours. He'd told Mynth about how he was searching for this Arnie. And Arnie knew now. It'd been perfectly executed.

Arnie himself was a short, middle-aged man, with a balding head and crinkled eyes, scrutinizing. He had an olive complexion, and a suspicious look on his face. "What do you want, Demon?" So the alias, the fumble of words he'd accidentally used, they had found their ways to Arnie. So soon?

Impressive.

Leo merely continued to smirk. "Oh, you're wrong there. I'm no Demon. I'm a Fallen...Angel." He said, grinning widely. His fang like incisors, just a teensy bit sharper than that of a human, caught Arnie's attention. "All I need from you, is for you to point me to the right oath, with a bit of info ahead of time. That's not much is it?" Arnie nodded, still wary. "Alright, spit it out." Leo nodded. "The Angelic records are missing. How?" Arnie snickered. "Thanks for that tidbit, but that is seriously confidential. I'm already on the Angels' hit list, I don't need to go further up on it." Leo felt disappointed. "Oh, Arnie. I'd expected more from you." Arnie shrugged. "Leave. And don't try to pull any funny business either, a-alright? Being in this kinda business you come prepared." Leo put his hands up, stepping back. "I wouldn't think of it." He said smoothly.