Vergil approached the secluded, Victorian-style house with purposeful steps. He paused momentarily at the entrance. He eyed the large wooden door as if in contemplation. Then, without knocking to let his presence be known, he went inside the tastefully decorated home. Making his way to the stairs that led to the second level, Vergil ascended. He stopped at the first doorway on the left and peered inside.

Abigail was lounging face down on the large bed. There was a pillow propped beneath her chest and an open book resting against the headboard. The light-weight dress she was wearing could hardly be considered clothing at all. The material was so sheer it was almost transparent. The attire was adequate for spending a night in, but Vergil had no doubt she wore it in public as well. She was twirling a lock of auburn hair around her finger, as she often did when she was concentrating on a novel. Her attention never swayed from the pages before her as she spoke in a bored voice.

"How was your trip?"

A nearly imperceptible crease knit Vergil's brow at Abigail's question. Her constant knowledge of things beyond her concern baffled him. He wondered often how she came across such information but was far too confident to inquire. Instead, he adopted an air of superiority and retorted with a question of his own.

"What makes you think I went anywhere?"

Abigail closed the book without marking her place and put it on the nightstand. She sat up and eyed Vergil with a cunning grin. The expression looked unnatural on the youthful face she would forever be forced to wear. She inhaled deeply. "The scent of saltwater is heavy on you. I could smell it before you even walked through the door. You went to Fortuna."

It wasn't a question. Vergil didn't treat it as one. Abigail most likely knew he would journey to the sea-side town the moment she had told him of it. The lure of an entire religion based upon the legend of Sparda was too fascinating for him not to investigate. Vergil speculated her entire reason for telling him of the strange cult was simply to send him on away. For what purpose, he did not know, nor did he care. He had learned much from his short excursion. Even if his actions were of her design, it had not been a complete waste of time.

"It was educational," he stated in answer to her question.

Abigail's smirk became even more pronounced. "I'm sure it was." Watching him calmly, she stood up. "It seems you now have all the knowledge you require to resurrect Temem-ni-gru."

Vergil frowned. His surprise at Abigail's awareness of his intentions prevented him from hiding the countenance before she had the chance to see it. Abigail smiled at his dumbfounded expression. The advantage of knowing his secret was one she aimed to utilize fully. It gave her great pleasure when she was able to flaunt her intimate knowledge of Vergil's plans. Being as painstakingly guarded in their exchanges as he was, her admission made him all the more certain that she could not be trusted.

Vergil gripped Yamato tighter but did not attempt to draw it just yet. Though he did not doubt his ability to kill Abigail, he was certain she would not make it easy for him. He wondered if he had the resolve for such a conflict at the moment or if it could even be worth the effort in the end. He doubted the satisfaction he would feel at her death would be as enjoyable as he imagined.

Deciding not to tempt disappointment, Vergil turned to go. Before he could take even one step toward the exit, a soft voice sounded in his ears, reminding him of his contempt for the vampiress.

"You still owe me."

Gritting his teeth, Vergil turned back around to see Abigail staring at him with a resolute countenance. Remembrance of the countless times she had manipulated and belittled him in the last year fed his anger. His right hand gripped Yamato's hilt. He glared at her with malice.

"You assume too much," he warned. "I've tolerated your game thus far only because you've managed to provide me with information on my father that I was unable to obtain elsewhere. I have no intention of enduring your foolishness any longer. In fact, there's no reason for me to even let you live."

Abigail's lip curled in a cunning smile. "You're not going to kill me, Vergil."

He fought against the shiver that accompanied her use of his name. The reaction was far stronger this time than it ever had been before. Vergil knew she was using the full extent of her power. Under the influence of such strong abilities, he was helpless to respond quickly enough. Taking advantage of his hesitation, Abigail advanced. Before his trance could subside, she stood before Vergil. The fingers of one hand tangled in his silvery hair causing an unbidden sensation of fiery fascination to render him helpless. The hand that held Yamato loosened its firm grasp. He stared at Abigail. Her normally amber eyes had taken on a crimson glow and her incisors had lengthened. The sharp points glinted in the dim light.

"I've no intention of letting you out of your debt, half breed," she spoke in a tone that directly contrasted her previous one. "All this time you were under the impression that you were using me. You tolerated me. It never once crossed your self-absorbed mind that I was the one pulling the strings. I led you exactly where I needed you to go. You are here because I allowed you to be."

A snarl formed on Vergil's face. He released his sword, knowing he stood no chance against Abigail right now. Though she might not kill him, she would not let herself be harmed. Her fingers teasing his scalp reminded him just how powerless he was.

"What do you want?" he asked.

Sensing his submission, Abigail let her vampiric nature go dormant once again. She released Vergil. Relieved to be rid of her conflicting touch, he straightened his hair let his features relax once more. He continued to watch her cautiously but did not go for his blade a second time.

Abigail eyed him in return and answered in a voice filled with unaccustomed meaning. "Freedom."

Intrigued by the sudden sincerity of her proposition, Vergil's ire faded. "Freedom from what?"

"The one who made me."

"Revenge is an understandable motive," Vergil admitted. "But I'm unsure why you need my help to dispatch one vampire."

"Dastan may be only one vampire, but he commands an army. That is more than I can handle on my own alone. However, after you've retrieved Sparta's power, the odds of the two of us succeeding that large an undertaking are undeniable."

Abigail finally revealing her ultimate goal caused Vergil more than a little confusion at the methods she had used to get to this point. The cloak-and-dagger routine had been time-consuming, not to mention irritating. A direct approach would have been more beneficial to her plans, as well as his. "If you've known all this time what I was after and how to obtain it, why not just tell me?"

"Would you have helped me, then?"

As Vergil pondered the answer to that, Abigail moved to the bed once more. She sat on the edge with a thoughtful expression. At that moment, she looked like nothing more than a teenaged girl troubled by some trivial issue.

Vergil approached her, not letting himself forget how conniving she could be. Even if she did look harmless and average, he was well aware she was anything but. Still, his stance was relaxed. His former agitation at all the past events was replaced by calm indifference.

"If I help you, we're even," he told her.

Abigail nodded in agreement. "Then you can kill me."

The acceptance in her voice caused Vergil to frown once again. He doubted she would just let him kill her so easily. As adamant as she had been about self-protection thus far made her words all the more confusing. His former resolve at desiring to take her life faltered. If she truly wanted to die, he wasn't sure he wanted to oblige her.

"Until we meet again," Vergil said.

He began to leave, but Abigail's voice once again caused him to pause.

"You don't have to go."

Vergil wished she had not spoken. The thought of staying had already crossed his mind, but her offer made it all the more tempting. So much warranted his attention at present. He really couldn't afford to be distracted. There were preparations to be made, obstacles to be overcome.

"I'm sure you can find some willing human to sate your lust," he told Abigail.

"Undoubtedly," she responded.

Disappointment was thick in her tone. The confidence she displayed made Vergil grin. Not from disbelief. He knew it was nearly impossible for a normal man to deny her charms. What made him smile was how bored the ease of conquest made her.

"You enjoy being challenged," he mused.

Abigail replied with a smile of her own. Consent wasn't required. They were both aware of the truth of his words. In retaliation to such desire, Vergil trailed a finger along Abigail's jaw. The light touch sent heat coursing throughout his body. He knew Abigail felt it, too. The momentary flutter of her eyelids made her pleasure quite evident.

"In that case," he said softly, "maybe I shouldn't give you the satisfaction of staying."

Abigail stood. Her fingers once again weaved into Vergil's hair. The sensation the touch brought with it was even more intense than it had been earlier. Desire washed over him. He fought to maintain his resolve as she leaned closer. Standing on tiptoes, Abigail moved her lips toward his. She stopped before their mouths met. Vergil refused to take the bait. He stood unmoving.

Abigail grinned. He could feel the flutter of her lips with his as she spoke. "But you will."

Before Vergil could respond to her conceited notion, Abigail closed the distance. The kiss was fierce and owning. Vergil quickly gave into it.