Chapter 23

The mountains had grown no warmer and as the sun rose, Dante found himself trekking onwards, back down the way he had come, the phoenix flying low beside him. Dante smiled wryly as he remembered how Jean had been shocked that Dante hadn't been struck down by awe at the beautiful bird. It was nothing that he hadn't seen before and he had said as much to the angel that had been so kind to heal him and shelter him from the cold. The journey up to the mountaintop had seemed arduous and long and Dante was surprised to see that the return trip down the steep slope was nowhere near as tiresome. Perhaps it was because he had some form of company now, even if it was in the form of a creature who could not talk in the human tongue. Still, it was something nonetheless and he found himself feeling immensely grateful.

The bird was an intelligent creature, and also appeared to be highly affectionate towards the demon slayer, something that the angel had found to be extremely disconcerting. Dante had simply smiled though; it appeared as though most animals treated him in such a like manner, with affection and loyalty. Yet he couldn't help to look upon the glittering golden red feathers with a feeling of sadness resting within his heart. Whenever he saw those fierce yet gentle golden eyes his throat felt suddenly tight. Most of the time he managed to push such thoughts away from his mind and was more than able to carry on as though nothing in particular had happened. But each and every time this happened, it got harder and harder to keep the emotions from clouding his thoughts.

The way the phoenix acted towards him did nothing to help the matters. The phoenix was intelligent, it seemed to behave in a regal and refined manner towards the angel, yet towards Dante the phoenix would drop all reservations and completely open up, as though a complete transformation had occurred. It would croon and preen and would constantly try to perch comfortably on his shoulder. This in itself was no bad thing, but Dante himself was reluctant to allow the phoenix to do so; it brought back way too many memories, some of them sad, some bitter-sweet, none entirely pleasant. When Dante would eventually brush the phoenix away the bird would croon questioningly and would stare up at him inquisitively. Whenever it did that, Dante couldn't help but freeze and stare at it as though it had grown another head, staring at the bird that was acting like a mirror from his past. He knew, he just knew somehow that he had met this bird some time, long ago, seven years ago.

He had to be wrong. If the phoenix had left the side of his old friend for a new position beside a different person then it meant…

No. Dante shook his head, narrowed his eyes, hardened his heart. This was not the same bird. It couldn't be, wouldn't be. At that point, the phoenix gave vent to a throaty cry, causing the demon slayer to look up quickly. Demons. Dante smiled before sheathing Alastor at his back and pulling out his gauntlets, Ifrit. He felt their power envelop him immediately, almost joyfully, bringing a thin smile to Dante's lips.

'I know guys, I missed you too,' he chuckled, as the gauntlets found Dante's own core of power and converged with it immediately. The cold no longer seemed to bother him, the snow around him had melted to reveal the dead grass that lay frozen beneath. The demons were getting closer and it appeared as though the wolves were in love with punishment. Dante rolled his eyes, his cocky nature rising to the fore. It was only then that Dante really smiled, his heart truly in it. He was back. He could do anything if he tried hard enough. So what if there was a dragon? Something had finally gone right for once. He glanced at his shoulder to where the phoenix had yet again perched. He grinned with good nature. He had the means now to go dragon-slaying. If the phoenix would really be able to defeat the dragon then he seriously saw no harm in letting the phoenix stay where he was.

The demons came closer and more of Dante returned.

Let them come.

They had no clue what they were in for.

And with a cry of jubilation, death came down to sweep the wolves off their feet and into the dark abyss that waited.

---

Lorelei sighed softly as she sat at the kitchen table, watching listlessly as Trish placed a hot drink in front of her. Lorelei looked at it blankly. Coffee. She took a sip as Trish watched her hopefully. Lorelei sighed yet again as she set the mug back down. Not as good as Reiko's…Trish bit her lip and then sat down opposite the young woman.

'He probably will come back you know,' she said cheerfully. Lorelei looked at her sadly.

'For a second, I almost believed you.' She closed her eyes and rested her head upon her arms. She heard as though from far away as a door opened and closed.

'How is she?' Rose. She imagined Trish shrugging, could almost envision it through her closed eyes.

'She still hasn't eaten anything.' There was an audible sigh of frustration. There was a sudden scraping of wood against tiled floor; Trish had stood up.

'Where are you going?' Rose asked.

'Bathroom. I shouldn't have tried to cook those burritos for lunch.'

'Too much info, Trish,' Rose chuckled. There was a replying laugh which faded as Trish walked towards the bathroom. She felt a hand stroke through her hair gently and heard another soft sigh. 'I warned you, didn't I? To never fall in love with a vampire. Now you know why. They bring nothing but hurt.'

'I thought you liked him,' Lorelei whispered, raising her head, watching as Rose sat down in front of her.

'I do. But unlike you…well…I've…I've fallen in love with a vampire before. I know that Reiko is not for me. I'm content to be his friend, nothing more.' Lorelei was silent in the face of this sudden revelation. 'I don't want you getting hurt the way I did.'

'And why do you care whether I get hurt or not?' Rose paused at that statement and looked at her almost cautiously. Lorelei's gaze did not waver for instant.

'You're right…' Rose whispered. 'Why do I care?'

---

Fire whipped and crackled, burning through the snow towards the demons. Flames leapt around one sole figure, wrapping around his arms and his legs, dancing as the fires hissed for more, for more blood, for more death. There was a sudden eerie laugh and then, abruptly, the flames stilled and died down, disappearing altogether. Carcasses decorated the snow, blood splattered everywhere, the crimson creating a surreal effect amongst all the white. Dante looked upon this and smiled, his aquamarine eyes stirring with a rekindled light that had long ago been thought dead. The blood on the snow didn't bother him in the slightest.

Dante was well and truly back.