Even then, the one time he'd summoned the shadow spirit, Azrael had been forced to wound the great beast before it would return from whence it came. That act had changed his Scythe, changing the black blade to silver with the markings remaining behind as if inlayed with shadesteel.
Now he wondered if that madness was changing him as he stared at the lady before him with an odd smile as his mind ran over the previous nights actions.
The sheer quantity of various drinks of varying potency was almost mindboggling as he and his two drinking buddies spent the night going from one bar to another after his use of the scythe on the decorative flora on the street the battle between his two companions had taken place. Four of the bars they'd visited were no longer fit for use, one due to a dart game between Anderson and Alucard, the second involved a billiards game with a drinking game and a minor skirmish with some football hooligans to complete the set, though the last one did get them the thanks of the police due to the record of one of those deranged fans that had recieved a bayonet to the wrist before being kindly asked to leave and never return to that particular pub.
He was seriously grateful for the fact that he still had his angelic healing due to some of what had happened, including a way to eliminate the hangover, but the taste in his mouth was something else and it refused to go away.
Slowly cracking his neck he brought his attention back to the now and more specifically to the aristocrat before him. If he'd still been a mere mortal, or even still just an angel, the stare the lady had might have worked to make him feel somewhat repentant. Ah the power of being a jaded whatever the heck he was now.
He smiled slightly, biting back a chuckle as he declared with a cheerful voice, "Good morning!"
Alexander the Azrael had timed the release of his wings perfectly as they spread outwards and casually circling forwards to point towards each other with a total shape similar to that of a heart if they'd continued to a point of meeting.
The startled expression of the mortal made it all worthwhile.
And it was then that he felt an oddly familiar sensation, another old drinking buddy of his was active in the world, well, he;d just have to visit Puck to see how the trickster was doing in New York, but the brief flare of Fey energy was barely enough to attract his attention and locate a city.
Ah, well, it would be more fun to track the guy down that way, although he wouldn't be able to do it the quick way before a conscientious cough brought his attention once more back to the now and here rather that wondering about New York City.
"Ah, yes," he said with a slight bow and a widened smile, "Allow me to introduce myself, I am Azrael!"
The startled look of the two mortal humans was almost enough to even make the true angel of death start laughing.
The entity formerly known as Ford smiled slightly as it rose to its knees, the spirit within consuming the soul of the mortal and imbuing the human shell with its own power and might as the devil once known as Azazel tested the limits, a pair of milky white wings with spatters of crimson blood spread wide, followed by two more pairs.
Razor sharp claws protruded from the flesh of the fingers as the skin darkened to a charred black as his hair distorted to a silver color and the illuminated eyes the color of blood surveyed the area before him as the shredded shirt fell to the ground and the boots torn off to reveal talons on the feet, elongated fangs graved his mouth, though different from that of a vampire.
This was no demon that had come, it was a archdevil in mortal flesh, a true abomination the likes of which had been absent from the earth since before the dawn of mankind. The devil stood before the setting sun with a truely evil grin on his face.