Chapter 11 - Memories

"This where you're staying?"

The question had come from Lady as she'd gone with Dante and Marvin to Black Wing Creek, saw the ranch coming up in the distance. Dante nodded his head in reply to Lady's question, and he glanced back at Marvin quietly. The police officer had been quiet the whole way to the Ranch, sitting in the back seat of Dante's car as it pulled through the gates of the front yard, and with good reason, Dante figured. The man had just found out he'd lost his family after all, and he had every right in the world to be as solemn and somber as he wanted to be.

It was the middle of the night, but that didn't stop the front doors from opening. As Dante got out of the car, he blinked when he felt someone grabbing him from behind, and judging from the height of said person, Dante knew it had to be Evelyn. He guessed at the moment that she was either a clingy little thing, or just really liked him a lot. Somehow he thought it was the latter option.

Getting out, Marvin looked down at the little girl as he walked around the corner of the vehicle, and seeing him, she turned her head and stared up at Dante with narrowed brows. Dante just smiled and patted the quiet girls head, then told Evelyn, "This is Marv, he's a friend of ours, gonna be staying here for a while."

Lady came around the corner as well, and she could only wonder at seeing Dante with a kid attached to his hip. It wasn't exactly a site one was prone to seeing, but she didn't comment on it in that moment since it wasn't the right place or time really. Lady knew Marvin didn't care to hear the jokes, and she was somewhat depressed over what had happened to him as well. So instead, she just looked down at the cute little girl and asked her, "Why are you up so late, Evelyn?"

That was a question Dante was curious about as well, but she didn't reply as the devil hunter hadn't thought she would, and simply turned her big blue eyes back up to Dante. Knowing how she didn't like to talk much, especially to strangers, Dante just said, "She's pretty quiet. I'll take her inside and find out what's going on."

Evelyn nodded and took Dante's hand, leading him into the retreat and Lady looked at Marvin, who held out his hand for her to go first, not so completely distraught in that moment that he was going to be an asshole to everyone around him of course. Lady smiled at him, then walked to the doors herself. She just hoped that the little girl had only been up due to a case of insomnia over what was happening around this place if anything that Dante had told Lady had been any indication, and nothing more dire or tragic that had arisen in Dante's absence.

Walking inside with Marvin, the two noticed that Dante had leaned his elbow on the front counter, his hand over the side of his face as he'd rubbed his eyes and made a groan. Doc had been in there just a moment before the two had arrived, and Evelyn was still hugging Dante's leg. Lady groaned inwardly, guessing it was, after all, something more dire that just a case of insomnia. "Shit," the devilhunter muttered before he turned around and looked at his two comrades, sighing a slow breath. "Look, I've got something to take care of, you two can find a room somewhere here, it's a lodge, so, yeah, just take a room and crash there. I'm pretty sure Regan won't give a shit."

Lady narrowed her brows, walking over to Dante, "Is everything okay? You're not acting like yourself."

"Yeah," Dante drew out, "well, I would if shit would stop going down around here like it has been. It's a long story. You'll find out in the morning, okay?" Upon Lady's nod at him, he turned and walked off, going up the stairs, leaving Lady looking in behind him before she gave a glance to Marvin and then shrugged. Evelyn looked up at the two adults as they exchanged their glances, and suddenly, Lady felt her pants leg being tugged on.

Looking down, seeing the little girl with her thumb in her mouth looking up at her with something she apparently wanted to tell her, she suddenly pulled it out and whispered, "You have pretty eyes."

The comment made Lady smile, she had a soft spot for kids, and she knelt down, looking at Evelyn on more even ground. "Thank you. And you do too. What's your name?"

"Evelyn," she whispered, then looked at Marvin, who had gone to the bottom of the steps and looked up them. She moved over to him quickly and gasped as she grabbed something that had almost fallen to the floor. The movement made Marvin look down quickly, and he realized that in his shallow pocket, his pendant had almost fallen out. Evelyn caught it though and she stood there, one hand held up with the necklace placed in it.

Smiling, taking it from her, he said, "Thanks, sweety." Then he put it in his back pocket instead so he wouldn't nearly lose it twice. He watched Evelyn give him a nod before she went over to Lady and grabbed her hand, then pulled her to the stairs, taking his hand as well as she began to lead them both up. Apparently, she wanted to take them to a room for them to stay in like a good little hostess.

The gesture made both adults smirk, and it was a welcome one, considering what they'd just put up with compared to her sweetness and innocent way of going about things. They'd let Evelyn do whatever she felt like she wanted to do.

Upstairs, the door to Regan's office had opened up, and Dante stepped inside, looking in on the woman quietly. She was sitting at her desk with a bottle of Jack Daniels next to an ashtray, and clutched between her left index and middle finger was a lit cigarette. The cigarette made Dante cringe a bit, but he supposed with what he'd just learned that Regan had every right to smoke if she wanted to. The window was open, letting a cool air in and the smoke out, probably why Regan was wearing her big, black wooly coat, and she took the bottle and drew a long drink of it straight from the glass neck, then set the beverage back down again before cringing slightly at the burn making its way down her throat.

"You didn't tell me you smoked," Dante pointed out, drawing her completely gone-out-the-window-with-the-smoke expression towards himself, and he stopped at the desk adding, "but I know why you're doing it. I guess it's just a good thing you're not crying and inconsolable."

"Yeah," she drew out softly, feeling as if these were the first words she'd said in hours, "I cried like a baby earlier actually, you missed it. And normally I don't smoke usually, but it seemed like a good reason, not to mention he did, so I thought I'd smoke one in his memory."

"Looks like you've smoked five in his memory."

"Well," Regan muttered, taking the bottle, "I wouldn't have if this shit would work. I've drank damn near half the bottle and I'm still not drunk, just warm and a slight bit buzzed." She turned her green eyes up to Dante and asked him, "You have that problem too?"

"Yeah, I drink like a fish and it usually doesn't bother me too much. I'd say my liver hates me for it, but I don't think it's hurting any."

Regan snorted, half amused, and she then offered some to Dante. Watching him take the bottle in his gloved hand and swig a good amount of the alcoholic beverage, she tapped her cigarette in the ashtray and shook her head. "He was way too young, Dante. Why the fuck do they die so young, and all the assholes live to be so fucking old?"

Dante turned and used his foot to pull a chair up closer, sitting in it and putting one leg up onto the side of the desk, shrugging his shoulders. Regan apparently had another bottle of Jack in a cabinet behind her desk, and she set it out onto the desk, giving him a slight little smirk before she pulled her hand away from it. The look caused him to smile slightly in return, and at her question, he could only shrug a bit. He had a question of his own as well, though he hated to ask it, still, it was one that needed an answer.

"How'd he die?"

Regan groaned, reaching up and rubbing her eyes. Dante let her take her time answering him, he wasn't going anywhere, and he just swigged more of his drink as he waited. He wasn't sure what Evelyn had said to him at first, had asked her to repeat it, but when she'd said that Jack was gone a second time, her innocence making it seem like, at first, she'd meant he'd just gone away on a vacation or something since she didn't completely understand death, Dante understood her much better. It hit him in a way he hadn't expected, and he couldn't help but just lean on the front counter for a few moments to collect his thoughts over it, even though he usually just acted on impulse and probably would have gone straight upstairs to find out what had happened.

Regan's voice had interrupted his thoughts however as she finally answered his question, "I don't know, Doc said it was probably just a combination of all of his wounds, but it still doesn't make any sense. I was in there earlier and he seemed to be doing just fine. He was so weak though. Maybe I'm just trying to make it seem like he should still be here instead of where he is now."

Humans were weak after all, Dante thought after she'd spoken her last line, that was, they were weak physically. But when she was right, she was right. Jack didn't seem to be that bad off, had even smiled though he'd been out of it most of the time, and Dante decided in that moment that there could have been something else at play here that he likely hadn't thought of yet. This case was just annoying. Dante liked a lot of action, liked to be able to blow his way through a shitload of enemies, tear them apart, and come out covered in blood and smelling like roses on the other side. But this time around it seemed as if everyone wanted to be secretive and not let everything out into the open until it was damned near too late.

It wouldn't have surprised Dante one bit if foul play had been involved at this point. In fact, the only thing that would have surprised Dante at all would have been if Democrities ended up being a transvestite, and even that wouldn't surprise him too much. Pushing it all out of his head for the moment however, knowing that none of it would bring Jack back or change what had happened to him, he just downed more of his liquor, and then set the now empty bottle onto the table.

"It's natural," he told Regan once he'd gathered his thoughts together, "after all, you grew up with him, he meant a lot to you, and as far as I'm concerned, I wouldn't have minded hanging out with him during some down time. It's damned shame when people get all fucked over and they don't deserve it, just like you didn't deserve to be stabbed and damned near killed the other night."

Regan had looked up at him when he'd started speaking, and somehow, she could see a frustration on the devil hunters face that wasn't commonly there, that his arrogance usually didn't allow to be. She got the feeling that Dante was the type of guy who felt he could handle damned near anything you threw at him, and his confidence made her feel better, but now he didn't look like that, he just looked annoyed and frustrated, like everything going on was just pissing him off.

Maybe it was. She couldn't blame him for it either. But beneath that frustration, somehow she could tell he wasn't in the mode where he felt things were too overwhelming, he still felt in the game, still felt capable to handle whatever the situation threw at him, and she finally found a small smile. He'd done a shitload to help already. She started thinking in that moment that she should probably use whatever talents she'd gained the other night to help fight this, make them go for something they weren't intended for, and in the process, help Dante to get this shit over with once and for all.

She stubbed out her cigarette, still smiling a bit, her new efforts in mind giving her a bit of hope and strength. Dante noticed the smile, and wondered if he'd said something to make her give him that, or if she'd just thought of something that made her feel better. Either way, he was happy for it, glad she wasn't breaking down into tears before him, because he really, seriously couldn't stand to see a woman crying. Perhaps she'd done so earlier, would again, but for now, she seemed fine, and he only hoped it'd stay that way. Shit, as far as he was concerned, right now the only people he really cared about keeping alive was herself, Evelyn, Marvin, and Doc. Seemed like the whole town was already selling their souls for a higher price, Marvin's family seeming to be proof that all of those who'd resisted were dead already.

"You're right," Regan nodded, standing up and walking around the side of her desk to sit in the other of the two chairs across from his so she could look at him and speak with him more closely. "So I wanna help do whatever I can in order to keep this shit from happening anymore. I owe it to myself if not to Jack to make sure it doesn't. This is probably gonna sound stupid, but," she took a deep breath and looked down, trying to think on how to put it without sounding corny or sadly silly and stupid, "I think it might be a good idea for me to learn a little more about what I can do now. You get what I mean?"

Dante tilted his head to the side in thought over her words, staying silent for a few moments after she'd spoken them. She was right in that she had abilities now that she previously didn't, and would probably be a big help if she learned how to use those abilities. Remembering their 'snow date' the other night and some of the things they'd said, he asked her, "So, you mean you want me to teach you how to fight?"

Regan shrugged a bit, casting her green eyes up at him. "Maybe, but only if you promise not to laugh at me whenever I fuck up royally."

"You won't fuck up royally, you probably already know how, just don't realize it yet."

Narrowing her brows, Regan pursed her lips to the side. "Well, if you mean throwing a punch, yeah, I can ball my fist and hit someone, but I've seen the kind of shit you've done, how you seem to have reflexes better than a fucking cat. I don't think I can't do that kind of shit persay."

"That's what I mean, doll," Dante shrugged, grabbed the new bottle of Jack from the desk, and pulled the cap off of it. Tossing it up and down in his hand, he tipped the bottle and drank from it, adding, "you can do all of that, you just don't know it yet." Once he'd finished saying that, he quickly turned his hand and tossed the cap of the bottle right at her forehead. As the metal flew through the air, Regan just reacted and she put her hand up, catching it in her palm.

"God, what are you–," she stopped herself suddenly, narrowing her brows as she looked in her hand, at the black cap, then back up at Dante who was just smirking and staring off into space seemingly. Tilting her head to the side, giving him a droll look, she just rolled her eyes upward with a heavily inhaled breath. "Very funny. Okay, so I can catch a cap."

The smartassed remark made Dante chuckle a bit. Regan placed the cap onto the desk and as she did, Dante kicked his foot into the surface, causing the cap to go flying through the air and back into his own hand. He began tossing it up and down, glancing over at her with a lifted brow, and Regan just lifted a brow in return, mimicking him. She watched Dante as he started tossing the cap, hitting it with the side of his boot to knock it back up into the air, then with the back of his hand the palm, over to one boot again, and then the opposite before he knocked it her way once more.

Regan caught the cap again, and then she sighed and tossed it up herself, deciding to try it out with her hands first. "Would probably be easier if it was a ball."

Dante lifted his brows as if considering it, then smirked, looking back in her direction. She was right, but he didn't say anything about it at that moment. She was doing pretty good with her hands, and finally tried her feet, popping it back up into the air, a smile slowly forming across her lips, which he'd stared at for a bit too long as she hit the cap into the air. "This is kinda fun," she said, but Dante wasn't paying too much attention to her words, even as she described the clarity she felt she had now in her perception. She was too damned pretty, he thought for a moment. Damn if he didn't like that blood red hair too, kinda like icing on the cake. Images of the memories he had from the night before, behind the stables, groping her, kissing her, popped into his mind at that moment, and he would've groaned audibly over the enticing thoughts if he didn't think she'd ask him what the sound had been about.

How long had it been since he'd been with a decent woman? Of course, he'd never stooped low enough to just bang a woman he couldn't give more than a shit about, but actually going out with a woman more than once? Shit, he couldn't even remember a time when he'd really done that except maybe once or twice, and both times had really been mission related. But he had to admit, he was at least interested in seeing Regan more than once if the situation presented itself, and that was a slight bit new to him. Dante wasn't a manwhore by any means, when it came to women, he simply didn't get immensely involved very easily. A fling or two was easy of course, not always something he drove for, but he figured it could lead to something more eventually, and a fling didn't necessarily mean sex. So no, he wasn't a manwhore, but his method of, for better or worse, meeting women might've made him seem like he could be that way from time to time.

Not to mention most women he'd met that he might've had an interest in had thrown glasses of water in his face. Not literally, but close enough. Rotten luck with women? He tended to believe so, but sometimes he got lucky, kinda like winning the thousand dollar lottery when you might've rather won the million, in the end, it was still alright.

So then there was Regan. She'd bitten at him, yeah, gotten pissed as most women tended to because of his crass ways of speaking and his unwillingness to censor what he said. But apparently it hadn't scared her off to the point where she would avoid him like several women would, as now she was sitting here with him, sharing a drink and asking for advice and maybe even a little guidance. Didn't seem like a bad deal to him so far at all. Thinking of guidance, he got back to watching her hit the cap instead of staring at her attributes like he had been. She seemed to catch on quick, like he'd expected, because she had those reflexes now, that perception of thought that was so clear and unique to a demon, made one, if they had the drive, such a deadly fighter.

But he had to make this a little harder on her, watching her just hitting the cap up and down was getting boring, and if he let his lustful thoughts go any further at all, he'd probably need a good while in the bathroom alone with his hand. So he reached out to grab the cap from her, and she grabbed his wrist when he closed his fist around it.

"Hey! Give it back, I was having fun," she pouted at him.

"No, it's mine, whatcha gonna give me for it?"

Regan narrowed her brows and she got up and turned around so that her back was in the way of him being able to see his hand and she started trying to pry his fist open. Dante just chuckled, closing his fist even tighter, and Regan let go, then she walked to the side, "Fine! Ass. You can have it."

She stood there with her back facing him and folded her arms over her chest when she heard him popping the cap back and forth again. Slowly peering over her shoulder, he was standing up now, the cap flying about him with carefully placed taps from his boots and hands, and her brows narrowed as she knew what he was up to. "I know what you want me to do," she informed him, "and you suck because of it."

"You can cry me a river."

"Asshole."

"Sometimes."

Regan rolled her eyes. Then she reached out and smacked the cap in the opposite direction without warning and Dante moved after it to try and keep it in the air. The cap went flying back toward Regan and she just smacked it upwards and then started using it as a hacky sac once more, snickering about it. Finally, she batted it back his way, let him have a few taps, and while it seemed like a silly thing to be doing, it was a pretty good practice for hand and eye coordination, no matter how childish it was. Not to mention it got their minds off of more serious business taking place.

At one point, however, Dante hit the cap at Regan, and she missed. The cap smacked her in the eye, and she reached up and put her hand over it, gasping because it'd startled her.

"Ah shit, you okay?" He asked, moving over to her. She nodded her head as he put his hand on her cheek trying to get her to look at him, hoping he hadn't done her any real damage, though he had to remember she wasn't completely human anymore apparently.

"Yeah, I think so," she replied softly.

"Let me look, move your hand."

Dante pulled her hand away from her face and looked into her green eye as she glanced up at him, saw that there was nothing wrong with it, she probably just felt a slight bit of irritation in it, and then just admired the color of it. He couldn't help himself at that moment. Red hair and green eyes. Nice combination. "You've got some damned pretty green eyes, babe," he told her shamelessly.

Regan watched him as he told her that, could feel a blush rising in her cheeks over it, and so to cover it up, she suddenly shoved his arms away and gave him an irritated look, "You're such a playboy," she informed him.

Glass of water to the face. "What? I'm just dropping you a compliment, you act like you've never gotten one before."

Regan grumbled, then she just shook her head and walked back to the desk, picking the cap up off of the floor on the way and placing it back on the bottle, twisting it down. Sighing a deep breath over his words, she shrugged a bit, "I...," she drew out, "I just don't know how to take one right I guess, not to mention you sound so damned cheesy when you say it." She snickered softly, trying to ignore the fact that she'd been flattered by it actually, and she had a thought, turned around to speak it, and found him right up against her.

She guessed he hadn't forgotten about the other night either, just as she'd been about to speak to him about. Figures he'd be a fast man. At least, when he saw something he wanted.

But he didn't want her, did he?

She decided to blame it on the booze. Likely story. She hoped this wasn't going to turn out bad.

His arm had hooked around her back, and as it did, she whispered the first half of his name when he cut her off, "Don't say anything, there's nothing to say," and his lips moved to hers again like they had the night before. Also like the night before, she reciprocated in kind, brushed her lips along his and swept her tongue into his mouth. Her arms went up and around his jacket, hands planted against his shoulder blades, one moving up and into his hair, feeling the softness seeping between her fingertips. Gruff as the man might've been, his hair seemed to be nicely taken care of, even if he didn't do much of anything with it and just let it hang about his face. It made him look handsome though, so he really didn't have to do anything at all.

It felt good to be against him like this, to be held, kissed, feel that torrent of want and need combined suddenly begin to flow through her body at his closeness, unable to help a soft whimper emanating from her throat over the dizzying feelings, and to forget about her pain, about Jack, about herself. She was vulnerable. And she was sucking up this whole thing as comfort, perhaps even sympathy on Dante's part, even though he might not have been doing this for that reason. God only knew Jack's death probably hadn't effected him all that much, so she doubted it was anything to do along the lines of needing comfort on his part, and she had just guessed it was nothing to do with him offering her sympathy either. She'd placed herself in a fantasy land.

Dante turned his head against hers, slanted his lips, kissing her with a good amount of skill that spoke volumes about either how many girls he'd been with, or about his skill as a person in general, perhaps a bit of both combined. He couldn't help himself when he remembered how nice it had felt to hoist her up against the wall the other evening and feel just how soft her lips were for the first time. Now he'd wanted to do it again, felt as if he almost couldn't help himself, not to mention he'd seen that look in her eyes, the very slight blush on her face before she'd moved away from him at his compliment, and he decided to, like always, risk it once again, kiss her the way he'd done before.

She hadn't changed, not that he'd expected her to, and she still felt just as soft and as warm as she had before. Still, something seemed a bit hesitant about her, about the way she was kissing him back, and it didn't take a rocket scientist to figure it out. Jack. She was a bit vulnerable right now, and as fast a man as he may have been from time to time, he certainly wasn't one to take advantage of a woman at all. Despite his bodies wants and needs, he slowly pulled his lips from hers, taking a slow, deep breath to collect himself, and he cleared his throat.

"Sorry, Regan."

Regan looked dumbfounded, dizzy, her hand still resting in his hair, not that he minded at all, and slowly her green eyes came open and met his azure ones. At least in that moment, she knew and understood that, no matter how prone to spontaneity he might've been, he wasn't going to force her into this, use some stupid line about 'I care about you, so let's shag', and she developed a new level of respect for him in that regard.

Taking a deep breath of her own, eyes locked on his as she discovered this in her own mind, she shook her head slowly, "It's alright, we seem to have an attraction anyway, just bad timing I guess." Now I wanna kiss you again anyway, she added in her own mind, her teeth biting on her lower lip suddenly as if to bar that line from coming out of her mouth. The hell'd he have to be so damned good at this for?

Fuck it. It'd felt too good, and she leaned up this time and met his lips with hers, deciding she was going to be the risk taker for once. Perhaps if she initiated it, it wouldn't be as bad. She didn't hold back either, even though he was so much taller than she was, she managed to get a good bit of force into it, her eagerness showing as she drew her teeth against his lips slightly and sucked against his tongue when he thrust it into her mouth.

She felt herself moving as he'd turned her, turning at a nicely swift pace, enough to get her a bit dizzier than she had been, and her desk began rising up beneath her, behind her. As his body loomed down over hers, she suddenly drew in her breath and had the thought that maybe she'd tempted him a bit too far, but damned if she hadn't had fun doing it. Her legs had come to part around his thighs, and when she made the gasp in her throat over the feel of his groin settling itself against hers, she felt him stopping, pulling his lips from hers for the moment. The both of them were breathing a bit heavier than normal, and she had dug her nails into the sleeves of his trench coat with her slight apprehension and heavy desire.

How close had they come so far? Regan had no idea, but there was a whole flock of butterflies in her stomach telling her she'd just taken a step toward where no virgin had gone before. She would've smiled over that thought if all of her blood had been in her brain.

"Yeah," she drew out on a husky voice, "okay, really bad timing."

Dante couldn't help himself. He'd suddenly grinned over the situation, and opening her eyes, seeing the look, she grinned too, snorting in amusement with him. "Besides," she finally added, "I'm just a job, right? Just think of me as that. That work?"

Looking down at her, blood red hair pooled out over the desk top, her legs around his waist, Dante just slowly shook his head, telling her, "Not from this angle, sweetheart. But like I said, it's not as if I can't control myself." He pulled her back up, watching her face as she watched his the entire time, smiling a bit, just appreciative over his consideration of her. "So what now?" He asked.

"Hmm," she thought, looking at the still nearly full bottle, and then back at his face, "Wanna get drunk?"

Grabbing the bottle himself, he considered it, "You know we'll probably need two of these, right?"

"Yeah, well, with what we were heading toward doing, I figured one would be enough to keep us behaved," she informed him as if she'd formed the perfect tactic.

He pulled the cap back off and chugged some of the contents as she spoke, then handed it to her, asking, "The hell's the point in drinking if you're gonna behave?"

Regan had started drinking some herself, and she sputtered a bit with her laughter when he asked her that, pulling the bottle from her mouth, wiping her lips a bit with her fingers. "Hell if I know, but it beats making a bad mistake, doesn't it?"

"Cheers," he agreed, moving over to one of the chairs as she grabbed a glass so that they could drink at the same time and not have to worry about sharing a bottle. Sitting down, she poured herself some, then held up her glass in a toast toward him, ready to actually make one.

"To what?" She asked.

"To sexless, behaved drinking and," he thought, Regan waiting quietly, watching him, wondering what he was going to add to it. It was then, after a moment, that he just said one word, and she knew exactly what he meant. "Memories."

With a sigh, a nod of her head, Regan tapped her glass against the bottle, swigging the contents in it. After the Jack Daniels had burned it's way down her throat, she told him, "That's one way to get your head out of your pants."

The comment made the devil hunter grin, thinking about so many other nights when he'd done just this. To be remembered, he thought to himself for a moment, then proceeded to get himself nice and drunk, or at least, as drunk as he could anyway.

--

"The Gateway is now in place, the Sacrifice is under close watch, and our human minions grow every day. This pleases me."

The shrine was alight with the glimmering essence of the portal, the dark, stone room, which was so old it housed several cave ins in its roof tops and sides where trees and vines had grown through, lit up only by that magic pooling together in its center. Arias knelt before the portal, head bowed, black robes billowing out around him across the floor on which he knelt. His black eyes opened, his raven Puck flying to his shoulder to perch himself atop it, and Arias made a soft sigh.

"Lovely means of summarizing a plot, oh decayed one," he stood up slowly, looking up into the pool, "but yes, everything is in place, as you'd asked." He took a half bow toward the portal, keeping his eyes on it at all times as if completely wary.

"The Sacrifice worries me, however, Arias." The guttural tone coming from the portal seemed to make the room reverberate with its strength, flashes of death and decay ever present in its shimmering light. "Is she being cared for as she should be?"

"Of course. The man proved himself today. I'll have her sent away from your enemies son soon enough. As well, I'd thought it to be a nice exchange for her safety if we offered a bit of power to the one posing as her caretaker now."

There was a bit of silence. Arias simply waited for the reply, wondering just how gracious his father would be now in the face of gaining what he'd always wanted, so close he could almost reach out and touch it. Knowing the stakes against him, Democrities finally replied, "Only you may grant him your power. He will need none. In the event of his failure, the Son of Sparda will make an unwittingly good caretaker for both the Gateway and the Sacrifice."

Well wasn't that just what his dear old dad would say. Grant the man part of his sons newly gained power and leave him less than suitable to stand against his own father should the need to arise. Demons really were greedy, weren't they? Arias rolled his black eyes and breathed in a deep, unamused breath. "I think not, Democrities, as you'd said, should he fail, Dante will fall into place nicely, and he will anyway. Even if he defeats us now, there is always Cruor."

The portal flashed red, and Arias held up his hand in the face of his fathers anger, a smirk lining his lips, knowing he'd hit a soft spot. The angry voice sounded from the portal, "The Harvest is yet several years away. Do not take me for a fool." At the words, the red color faded, slowly, and a last line was added, "I never believed you one to hold much faith in Merrick's abilities. What's changed your mind."

As Arias lowered his arms by his sides again, standing up straight once more, his expression faded from the victorious smirk into that of a flat line across his lips and brows. Then one black brow raised, and he replied, "Only that he has traversed in this world for far longer than you ever have."

The portal grew dead by Arias's will. Arias had nothing further to say to the demon. In the darkness now, his raven squawked, and Arias turned away from the alter he'd stood before in the overgrown shrine in which he stood, the long since fallen in ceiling giving way to the sight of stars out on the moonless night, beyond the snowy trees and branched above him and the roof. He began to walk, the smoke his robe seemed to dissipate into wafting about hit booted feet as he stepped to the front of the very old, decayed building slowly. A perfect place to bring forth a decayed demon.

Arias stopped outside of the ruined shrine and he looked up at the sky after narrowing his brows. As he did, he managed to see a shooting star, and his face, as cold and then flat as it was, turned away from the site slowly, though somehow seemed warmed by it. This was one of his chances. Revenge against his father for things lost, things he could now only remember. He had to play his cards carefully so that he could both gain the power his father had promised him, could not back out of giving him, as well as see to it that his father suffered endlessly for what he'd done to his son so long ago.

Merrick's time to pay would come later. Much later. For now, Arias concentrated all of his thoughts on Democrities and what he was going to eventually do to the bastard.