Thanks for all the reviews, people! It made me warm and fuzzy inside. I really got inspired to write more :D. I forgot to state this fact in my previous chapter: DMC and all its related characters do NOT belong to me; only to Capcom©. Oh yeah: once again, I'm new to this, so any help on how to improve the layout would help. I'm a real dummy with computers. Ha! Please enjoy!

Chapter 2: Hunter being hunted

Trish shivered in the night air.

"Why are we going to London, anyways?" She complained. "Especially since it's so goddamn cold."

Dante arched up a silver eyebrow. "It's London DRUGS. I'm obviously not gonna go all the way to London to get this stuff. And secondly, it's not cold at all."

"Not cold? Look! I have goose bumps all over me."

Dante swept his gaze over Trish's slim body. "Well, if you've worn more clothes, maybe you'd quit whining so much. One week ago you didn't complain so much about the temperature. Why, one'd think that..." Dante stopped in mid- sentence. "Oooh, I see now. No wonder my mother used to wear that cape every time it..."

Dante's muttering was indecipherable to Trish; she could only look at him in confusion.

"What are you talking about?"

Dante looked up helplessly. "I have no idea," he stated piteously. "I just can't believe that it's ME teaching a female about..." He gritted his teeth in frustration. "Me! The epitome of manliness, instructing a woman on...."

Trish suddenly grew concerned; Dante rarely grew frustrated, and his cheeks never turned so rosy before. Perhaps she had a curse laid on her? Which was now giving Dante a fever of some sort, and fogging up his mind? Why else would someone go as far to London to fix her?

She had to ask---but cautiously: evil spirits might force a false answer from Dante's mouth, if he, too, were affected.

"Dante, I-"

A bright yellow light flooded her eyes.

"We're here! C'mon," Dante grabbed Trish's hand. "I wanna get the stuff and get out as fast as possible."

"'The stuff' ? Dante, will 'the stuff' cure me?"

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Trish held the teal box in her hands. "This is 'the stuff' that'll cure me?"

"Cure?" Dante looked at her like she announced that she'd like to practice sacrificial ceremonies. With him as the sacrifice. "There's no cure for this kind of stuff."

" 'Stuff' again? Dante, can't you be more specific? I have a curse on me, don't I?"

A light came on in Dante's eyes. He hesitated. "Curse...? I should say most women call it that."

"Ugh!" Trish almost stamped her feet in frustration. "You've been doing nothing except talk in riddles since this 'stuff' started!"

"Listen, babe. I'll explain all of this to you, the best I can, once we get back to our place. London Drugs isn't so private, y'know."

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Dante chose the most busiest street home. Seeing Trish's confusion and her mixup thoroughly amused him, but he was slightly concerned. The smell of blood tantalized him...promised him the utmost pleasure if he acted on his more baser instincts. But he could control himself. However, of course, why would an enemy need control itself? Hence the busy path. Except...at this time of night, in this type of neighborhood, the path wasn't...so busy.

Just as he was finishing the observation, he sensed movement in the bushes behind him. Acting without thought, his arm smoothly arced towards Trish, knocking her over. A nasty gash appeared where the scythe of a marionette hit home. He did a slick side somersault to avoid the second blade.

Trish's eyes grew wide. Why hadn't she sensed the blade coming? And why was she so tired? The pain in her abdomen ebbed with the flow of her blood running in her veins, and the blood that was soaking out...she got up. She felt really...bad!

"Trish!" Dante cried out. "Duck!"

She complied, in time to see the fireworks of Ivory and Ebony soaring above her, and the red liquid flowers blooming on the rotten wood of the marionettes.

Why were there so many? Trish pondered. And why...Trish's eyes grew wide. Why were they all coming towards her?!

She shook her head. Of course! That cursed blood. They probably noted her weakened state, as well. Well then. Dante didn't have Ifrit or Alastor on him (as that would draw too much attention), therefore he didn't have his devil trigger, but she still had her demonic powers. Weakened or not, she was still more powerful than any of these lowly minions.

Running up to a group of four, she sliced through a wooden arm with her sharp fingernails, laced with yellow electricity. Except...it was more difficult than usual to do so.

Trish knew that wood didn't conduct electricity. But if there were enough volts, the electricity would heat and soften the wood, thus allowing her to slice through easily. Difficulty in doing so meant that her demonic powers had weakened considerably as well.

The four marionettes, once play things to her, now looked as menacing as the fiery ruby glow in their eyes...