A Demon's Angel
Thanks for putting this on alert to LinkWinchester, much appreciated! Hoping this is satisfactory… It's taken me long enough :/ Sorry to anyone reading, I hit some MAJOR plotholes and had to rearrange the whole story from last chapter onwards, so… Excuses excuses excuses. Let's get on with it.
Chapter 7 - Live with it
"Dante. Hand it over." Vergil said, strolling through the doors at a leisurely pace, but lacking his usual flair. Or is that katana? Dante shrugged and pointed upstairs.
"I suppose Lady has it. She's probably under my bed. I've been waiting my whole life to say that." He laughed, mocking his brother for the billionth time. Vergil blinked twice and made his way to Dante's room.
Lady could clearly hear footsteps approaching the doorway. Whether it was the mean or the meaner twin, she didn't know, but she played it safe until he opened the wardrobe doors.
"Hi?" She grinned. Vergil smiled back.
"Lady." He whispered, then grabbed her elbow and dragged her out of the wardrobe, throwing her to the floor. She winced as her elbow hit a nail. Dante's house needed some serious TLC.
"Or is that Mary?" Vergil sneered, kicking Lady viciously in the ribs and stepping back. She spat on his boots as best as she could from her prone position on the floor.
"It hasn't been Mary for a long time, pal."
Vergil spat back, and it hit Lady on the cheek. She glared disgustedly at the half-blood demon boy as he crouched before her. To her surprise he was wearing an unusually apologetic face. He reached out to wipe Lady's face, and she was amazed at how soft his hand was, but his face soon became confused and frightened. He retracted his hand like he'd burnt it and stood abruptly with excessive grace, floating out of the room after retrieving his sword from the floor. Lady lay stunned on the cold floor, trying to make sense of it all.
Vergil frowned his way down the stairs and gave a chilling glance around the room. Seeing his brother had left, he strolled out of the building and followed what he thought was the smell of beer and pizza. The smell of his brother. He didn't know when or why he'd become so dependent on his younger sibling.
Dante left once his brother reached the top of the stairs, shrugging on his coat and leaving his two pistols, ebony and ivory, on his desk. He kept Rebellion with him though, just incase. Heading to the same church as before, he took a shorter route, cutting through less public areas and more alleyways. He was somehow dying to meet that blind girl again, however cruel and unforgiving she was.
He found her much earlier than the church, however. Dante gazed upon the limp body of a woman so unusually strong with pride. Guess he won in the long run. He knelt next to the pile of black litter bags she rested on and prodded her ribs. She remained perfectly still, although not through choice. She'd drifted into unconsciousness so deep that the burning sensation in her stomach was no longer a problem.
"Clean out." Dante said. He frowned slightly. It looked to him like she'd been run through by the blood patterns coating her shirt. He laughed at the now reversed situation and her sudden weakness in the human world. Plenty of impurites here. Plenty of things to slow her down. Unlike in heaven. The way she'd explained t, she'd made it sound like an allergy.
Angels are amazingly reactive to evil, negativity, and bad thoughts. The higher up the scale they are in heaven, the higher the atonement of the 6th sense they have. Unlike demons, who have boosted everything senses, angels are just humans with a sixth sense. And the hierarchy? It hurt Dante to think about it. There were the people who believed (or defeated a great evil, or something else amazingly angelic) in their life on earth. Then Cherubs and Young Angels. Like Skylar's daughter Catherine. Then Angels. Skylar. They only had 1 wing, because they don't have a reason for another. Most angels are confined to heaven until they find their songbird. The being that calls out to them on earth. Then they have to transfuse their own and their songbird's blood, making them a Guardian Angel. From then, they remain on earth with their songbird, with both wings.
Then there's the Archangel. Weiss, Skylar had called him. He'd been Archangel for almost as long as Mundus has been King of the Demon world. A tall man with long white hair, highly respected and hardly a day over 20. With double pure white wings stretching elegantly from golden robes. That's what Skylar said. He's the one who let Dante go. Never met him. Never saw him. Skylar had only mentioned seeing him once. So not only was he powerful and inspiring, but he was elusive and mysterious too. What a combo.
"Dante!" Vergil shouted, running through the alleyway, interrupting his thoughts. Dante executed a long-needed face-palm and turned to his brother menacingly. Vergil was uncaring. Upon noticing the body and recognising her as the angel lady stabbed, Vergil withdrew the blade from his coat and placed it gently in her boot.
"Nice knife." He smirked. Vergil narrowed his eyes and took a step back.
Vergil didn't question how Dante and that woman knew each other. Frankly, he never really cared for any of his brother's remote friendships. Especially not with women, blind and clearly not human or not. Vergil tried to control his breathing. The oddly sweet smell of her blood was disturbing him, and he tried his best not to taste it when he breathed through his mouth.
"She needs somewhere to stay." Dante sighed. Vergil looked at Dante with a 'no way' stare and held up his hands. Dante smiled and walked away, leaving Vergil stood with an unconscious woman in a darkening alleyway; the syrupy fragrance of her scarlet body fluids still interfering with his thoughts. He had to get her away. But where?