Trish watched Dante's face carefully as she finished telling him what had happened after he had left to go upstairs. Dante didn't look particularly interested. He stared out of the window vacantly.
'Well I wouldn't worry about it…he didn't get far.' Trish ran to the window to see what it was he was looking at. Dante still didn't look particularly concerned. He tilted his head back as he finished drinking the last of his beer. He wiped his mouth almost casually with the back of his hand as he stared down at the scene below.
Trish's eyes widened as she heard the wild screaming. She poked her head out of the window, straining to see what was happening. Every so often, she would catch a few flashes of Arson as light reflected off his insignia. But she could see nothing of his attacker.
The two suddenly fell into a pool of light given off from a nearby lamp. Trish gasped as she saw for the first time what it was that Arson was trying to fight. It was hard to see what it was…it was like a shadow…not the type that Dante had "affectionately" nicknamed. She shuddered as she thought of them-hideous cat like creatures who had the ability to warp their shapes. But it seemed as though Arson was fighting something a lot more menacing.
Arson's back slammed against a wall. Trish could only faintly see through the black mist that the devil was feebly struggling against what was presumably a chokehold. The shadow had formed into the shape of an arm, or what she thought was one. Trish looked at her silver haired partner pleadingly.
'Shouldn't we do something to help?' she cried. Dante said nothing but kept watching impassively. His pale blue eyes were fixed on Arson and his assailant. 'Dante?' Trish tried again. Still no response. Arson's struggling became more frantic, more feeble. Trish could hear his laboured breathing and turned to watch again. Her eyes narrowed slightly. Why was she getting so concerned? They had only met yesterday, she shouldn't be as caring as this. She watched as Arson continued to struggle and was dismayed to notice that his movements were becoming less. Soon he was still altogether. The shadow suddenly moved away from him and he fell to the ground, gasping for air. Trish moved about restlessly.
'Wait.' He said. Trish looked at him thankfully. He was going to do something to help, for that much she was grateful. She just hoped that by the time he decided to step in, it wouldn't be too late. She flinched as lightening crashed, the sound taking her by surprise. Dante made no move. He squinted his eyes as another brilliant flash lit up the area again. The shadow had moved away from Arson as though waiting. Arson was totally still. Was now the right time to attack? Only one way to find out…
'Trish. Grab your guns and go. Get Arson out of there while I distract that thing.' Trish nodded and dashed off, knowing that time was of the essence.
---
Arson weakly opened his eyes as light poured down onto him from the doorway of Devil May Cry as Trish and Dante rushed out to help. A strange grey mist was folding over his vision. It was cold…so cold. He moaned and shuddered violently. He could faintly hear the sounds of battle, could hear steel being drawn. He smiled wryly despite himself; he had just been passing by. It was strange fate that he had happened to find Razzia, or rather, Razzia had found him.
Arson sensed rather than saw that someone was kneeling by his side. He looked up at Trish weakly, his eyes warping her into someone unrecognisable. He tried to get up to his feet but instead he fell onto his side.
'Get…away…not…safe…' he gasped. His eyes were rapidly glazing over. Trish was glad of her superhuman strength but realised that perhaps she didn't need it. Arson was light in her arms. Arson slowly closed his eyes and breathed in deeply. Then his body went slack.
---
Dante paced his room, like a panther trapped in a cage. He had taken his coat off and his muscles moved sinuously under his black top. His thoughts were whirling. That thing, what was it? Why had it been so difficult to even lay a mark on it? Maybe he should have chosen to use Sparda instead of Alastor. It had seemed to move away as though it had gotten bored of a game of sorts. It hadn't retreated because it was in pain, it had retreated because it felt like it. Dante didn't like this idea. He never let an enemy live to fight another day if he could help it. Never. His thoughts raced to Trish and Arson.
He was lying downstairs, spread out on the wooden desk that was about to crumble with age. It had chosen to remain intact for Arson though, who was hovering in between life and death. But that wasn't what worried him. Trish had seemed overly eager to help out. She was the one who had offered to treat him, even though Dante was just preparing himself to take care of the kid. His eyes narrowed slightly as he passed a mirror. Trish had told him that he had looked worn out, and that he should get some rest. He scowled and he stopped pacing to stare at his reflection. So his eyes were a little blood shot? Who cared? He was not tired in the slightest. He yawned. Not one bit.
He took off his top and flopped down onto the bed. His eyes stared at the ceiling of his room as he tried to empty his thoughts. Why was he bothered about Trish? It wasn't like he loved her or anything. Why then, was he so anxious? He closed his eyes, determined not to dwell on the matter. Trish did whatever she wanted. It was her life, not his. He didn't care. Not at all.
Dante turned onto his side, having fallen into a deep sleep, due to the copious amount of alcohol he had consumed before. But even in his sleep, his face was troubled.
---
Trish stood back and sipped delicately from a glass of water, her keen eyes watching every movement that Arson made. He was still breathing unsteadily, this was a worrying sign. The fact that he had shown no signs of self-healing also worried her. By now, Dante would have begun to heal. But Arson was doing nothing of the sort. Instead, more blood gushed from his wounds. Trish began to realise that the chokehold she had seen Arson suffer, had been something a lot worse. Because of the dark clothes he wore, it was extremely difficult to see the extent of his injuries. She needed at least to take off his jacket and top. She thought fleetingly of what Dante would do in this matter but then let it slip.
Arson painfully stirred and opened his eyes, moaning softly as he did so. His eyes struggled to focus on her. They were still glazed over. He squinted slightly and then relaxed, now able to see that it was Trish. He tried to sit up, but it was too painful, too difficult. Even moving his head caused pain to shoot down his spine. He moaned in agony, his thoughts shattering like crystal and tried to struggle, calling out in pain. Trish grabbed him firmly, trying to show that he was with someone and that the thing wouldn't get him without a fight. She could see only too plainly the terror in his eyes.
He shivered in her arms as the tinkling sound of broken glass in his mind began to die down. He gazed up at her as though bewildered and then forced his body into motion, crying out again with agony as he did so. With a soft groan of anguish, he fell with a thud onto the floor. Trish leant over the table and stared down at him, frowning.
'Why did you do that?' Arson curled up into a ball and shuddered.
'Don't touch me!' Trish sighed and shook her head.
'Before you move, you should take a stock of your surroundings first,' she said patiently. She stepped around the corner of the table and bent down at his side. 'Here, let me help you.' Arson snarled at her, anger reflecting in his eyes. But there was something else she couldn't place at the moment.
'Don't touch me!' he raved. Trish persisted nonetheless. 'I said don't touch me!'
'Look, do you want to be healed or not? Could you take off your top so then I can see what it's done to you?'
'You mean what Razzia has done to me.' He shook his head. 'No. I'll be fine. It'll come soon.' He rested his head back down, his eyes still glazed, his breath coming in short, harsh gasps. His eyes slowly fluttered closed.
'What'll come soon?'
'My escape.' Trish glared at him.
'If you mean death then you've got another thing coming. I'm not letting our latest client die.' He tried to raise his head at that, but groaned and gave up.
'Not death.' Arson drew a shaky breath. 'It comes.' Trish swung around as she heard a sudden tapping on the window pane. She frowned, unsure of what it was. She looked at Arson and was met with a face full of serene calm. He slowly sat up, one hand to his neck, where blood was still oozing out. He narrowed his eyes and the window flew up. Trish ducked as something soared over her head. She dimly heard the clatter of talons and a strange throaty cry. A pleasant feeling came over her as she listened to the eerie song. Almost as though in a dream, she turned to see a phoenix, She gasped at the sight. Though she had never seen one before, she would have been a fool had she not known what it was nonetheless.
The phoenix stared back at her benignly through its golden pupils. There was something fierce about them but yet gentle at the same time. They reminded her of Arson's eyes. The phoenix seemed to radiate power, but it was firm yet gentle. The phoenix crooned in pleasure as Arson patted it gently on the head, stroking its long head feathers. It was sometimes scarlet, sometimes golden, it depended on how the light fell upon its feathers. Its beak was needle-like, it's talons sharp and deadly. It was a beautiful bird, but yet capable of being a warrior.
'His name is Inferno,' said Arson without looking at her. Trish's eyes were huge with wonder. She reached out hesitantly to stroke it. The phoenix seemed to flinch slightly but then relaxed when Arson smiled and nodded.
'How…I mean where…' Trish stuttered. Her voice was breathy with amazement. Arson smiled at her gently, his brown eyes becoming unglazed and brighter.
'Well…I've had him for a long time. Inferno's been my only friend at times. He's always travelling with me, wherever I go.' He laughed mirthlessly. 'Pretty sad, right?
'No. Not at all. It beats travelling with Dante.' She grinned at him but Arson's eyes grew suddenly serious.
'You shouldn't say that. He died because of you. Remember that. Hopefully, if everything goes according to my plans, you won't die and neither will he.' Trish smiled, feeling slightly smug.
'I didn't think Dante would ever do that though.'
'Not everything is as it seems.' Trish suddenly noticed that something odd was happening to Arson. He was beginning to heal. The phoenix pushed itself closer to him. Arson winced slightly, gritted his teeth in pain but then relaxed.
'So, when do we start travelling?'
'Travelling?' Arson's eyes grew blank. He looked puzzled. 'Why would we want to travel for?' Trish looked equally puzzled.
'Well…to beat Razzia of course.'
'I'm staying here to help out. I wasn't going to bring you to the future with me. Just think about it! When people see a dead guy from a History book walking about as alive as can be, they're going to get puzzled. It's bad enough as it is without them getting even more excited.' Trish hid a smile as she thought of the reaction that they would have got. It would be almost as bad as if Hitler was still alive. That didn't bear thinking about. Inferno suddenly backed away from Arson. He was now completely healed, much to Trish's surprise and relief.
'How did you manage that?'
'A phoenix's tears have the ability to heal. I haven't been able to learn all of my powers yet so Inferno helps me out a little.' Arson grinned. 'I'm not exactly the best devil around.'
'Maybe Dante could train y-'
'No, he wouldn't. Listen, thanks for your help. I've got to go.' Trish's eyes darkened with concern.
'I don't think you should be out there after what happened. You could have died. In fact, I thought you were going to.' Arson smiled and Trish was reminded painstakingly of her sleeping partner upstairs. It was the same reckless smile. A fearless light shone in his eyes. Even though there was so much different about the two, there was so much alike. Arson held out his arm and Inferno landed upon it, wings spread out for balance. He was about the size of a swan, with peacock like tail feathers. Trish's eyes brightened at the sight of him and she reached out towards him again, confident.
'When will we be seeing you again?' Arson shrugged.
'Whenever I guess. But I'll still be around.' Trish peered out of the window. It was formidably dark. The darkness seemed to make it unsafe and foreboding.
'I'd prefer it if you stayed with us just for one night. Park your arse down.' Arson's eyes narrowed. Trish felt an apologetic smile creep over her face. 'Sorry.'
'It's fine. No, I'm not staying either.' Trish shielded her eyes as a sudden blinding flash lit the area. At first she thought it was lightning. But then she saw that Arson had vanished, yet again.