(Part 10)

It was a raining afternoon that he finally left the place. In fact, it was raining so heavily that he had almost immediately regretted his decision to leave the apartment that he had been living in for almost a month. He stepped out from the lobby of the building, and looked up at the dark sky letting up its load.

"You're supposed to be up there?" He muttered softly underneath his breath, frowning. "What a stupid place to be."

Still, he hunched his shoulders, pulled up the edges of his coat, and stepped slowly –one by one –down the short steps. The rain pelted on his head and shoulders almost as if signalling to push him back into the shelter. Some droplets hit him in the eye, and he cursed softly. Was Nature really being such a downer to him, particularly when he had finally decided to up and do something instead of waiting?

"You know, you're a real bitch." He said, but there was no one busy enough to be bustling on this rain-filled street. He spoke as if he were speaking to someone, but nobody was around to hear his words. "I don't believe I'm doing this. Ugh."

He imagined some prickly reply made back at him, even though the person he was speaking to wasn't physically around.

"Couldn't you have –I don't know –waited for a better season to go running out being an idiot?" He continued, still grumbling as he walked down the street. He had been feeling bare since he began walking around with his usual items, but now he was slowly getting his bearings back in place.

Hibernating for sixty-four weeks and sleeping for another four weeks tended to take someone off his bearings.

"I swear, if you've found him by now, I'm going to murder you." He continued speaking to his imaginary person, continuing down the street after making a quick turn. The rain was going to make everything smell so bad, but what the heck man. He was a half-demon; he could survive things like a stink anytime.

The journey to Devil May Cry was spent with him cursing and insulting his imaginary person, and he was out of the rancid, decomposing building in less than a minute as well, finally getting his precious weapons back. He was surprised to find a few more recently-dated bills lying on his front porch. He didn't realize that some people were still persistent enough to try asking him to pay his bills.

Still, he gave it all a shrug and walked back down the steps away from the stench. Having already experienced stenches of demonic blood, fluid and other substances that he rather not identify, the smell of decay meant little to him anymore as he continued in the opposite direction from where he came.

Getting to Hell wasn't the difficult part if he was a half-demon. He might not have Yamato, might not have Vergil's ability of randomly opening portals. But he was still a damn-good (at least in his own opinion) half-demon, and that meant that he was still amazing when it came to things like threatening demons into doing work for him.

Opening portals to and from Hell was something easy for some demons –particularly demons who were deathly afraid of him.

It didn't take Dante Sparda long to find someone he could sucker and threaten into doing so, and soon he was jumping through the portal of the worlds.

He might not know about it, but when he jumped through the portal, an angel turned his back on the scene with a smirk. The angel spread black-as-midnight wings, and took off in a clean swoop, exiting the stage unnoticed –the same way he had come. Things were going to plan.

One of them had gone down to Hell.

Three more to go.

Then he had an angel to kill.

An angel, who had regrettably been working with him all this while.

An angel, who was unfortunately Eva Sparda.

_____________________________________________________________________________________

"Ten things about demons: go." I quizzed, taking another bite from the heavenly sinful food of potato chips. While guilt was a feeling that bugged me, it did little to ease the addictive nature of the unhealthy snack. Besides, while I was here in the Human World, there were supposed to be no demons, right? No demons meant no jobs for demon hunters. And no jobs meant that I didn't need to watch my diet carefully.

At least not while I was here in a world where my job was useless.

"They are not commonly repelled by crosses, but holy water works on them." Marielle answered, as if part of an examination. Her seriousness in considering a species that she had never seen was surprising, but she had obviously taken enough warnings from her sister and brother-in-law-to-be to know that demons could kill. If Vergil hadn't warned her enough of the species so foreign to her, then my story about how my innocent family had been terrorized by one of them years ago had probably done it.

"Holy water only repels them. You still have to kill them, or they'll be back." I reminded, but nodded to show that I considered her answer correct.

"Next thing: It's easier to categorise them according to the seven sins to know their weaknesses." Marielle continued.

"We'll consider each weakness of the seven sins later. Go on." I motioned to show that she should continue. We were only at number two: eight more to go.

"We can-" Marielle imminent reply was quickly interrupted by the ringing of the doorbell, and we exchanged alarmed looks. Our reactions were understandable, because it was dead in the night, and we were two women alone in the house without protection. I might be a demon hunter, but I definitely couldn't hold my own and protect Marielle if a crowd of robbers came.

By an unspoken agreement, Marielle approached the door while I hid myself behind a pillar not very far off, palming a baseball bat nearby to make sure I had a weapon of defence at the very least. She looked quickly through the peephole, turned to give me a confused expression, and then opened the door.

"Good evening, Miss Marielle Cartlier." The voice that sounded was deep –the voice of someone I had been cursing at for the past two weeks.

"Who are you?" Marielle must have somehow been alerted of something supernatural about the guy, because she sounded unsure and a little scared. By then, I was already moving out of my hiding spot, pulling her back.

"You bastard." I spat, rushing forwards. I'd admit that I never really thought about my next actions until it was too late. But hey; who blamed this asshole for being such... an asshole? My reaction was perfectly natural for someone who had been made to jump between worlds only to find that I had been made a fool.

I don't know if the angel was taken by surprise, or if he simply accepted the fact that a crazy woman had launched herself on him. Either way, he didn't seem to react at all when I barrelled into him and forced him falling to the floor. I landed on top of hard abs, but his face didn't even betray any bit of pain. Marielle shrieked a little in shock of my sudden movement, but I raised my fist and let it sail through the air quickly.

It was rather satisfying to finally be doing something physically to that damned asshole of an angel rather than simply cursing him into a life of Hell.

Okay, maybe you can call me a psychotic bitch when it came to people making fun of me, but I really hated it when people played jokes on me. Particularly when he acted so high-and-mighty while doing so.

"You were probably laughing at me in heaven, weren't you?" To be honest, he didn't give much of a reaction when he received a hard sock on the face. It dimmed a little of my satisfaction, but I was still pretty happy to be able to finally punch the guy over and over again. "You sick SOB."

Marielle eventually reached my side and tried to be the diplomat between us, but I obviously ignored her, hitting the 'stranger' happily with all my might. Besides, he couldn't possibly die so easily. If he could, then the world be in such a brighter state without his annoying, stinking presence.

Please do stop when you have worked off your anger. His voice was totally pleasant, as if he wasn't being punched at all when it rang in my head. And I would be wary of the police if I were you. Human World this might be, but the government is no less strict when it comes to assault charges.

On hindsight, that probably made me punch him harder. But I guess he didn't feel at all. If anything, he probably felt a prick like a mosquito bite. But not much –not at all.

To be fair, I stopped after what seemed like my twentieth punch, my arms already sore from the strain. Besides, my knuckles were aching and a little red when Marielle finally pulled me away from my target. Once the weight was off his chest, Azazel simply sat up as if nothing had happened to him, straightened his shirt and picked his feet.

He wasn't even scratched. Not even a bruise. Not even a drop of blood.

I was immediately sorely tempted to run back into the house to grab a knife, but his words reminded me that we were still in view of the public. And even though it was dead in the middle of the night, I could never be sure who was watching and who was not.

"Are you okay?" Marielle asked worriedly, looking up and down as if she could somehow spot some sort of injuries –which was non-existent –on the angel. "I'm so sorry for my friend... She-"

The vindication from Leah's sister was cut short when Azazel interrupted –like the polite angel he was. "I am fine. I was fairly warned from the many times she cursed me the past two weeks."

"Good that you were listening, particularly the choice few of damning you to Hell." I spat, still feeling a little angry. Mostly, I was petulant. But no one really got around differentiating the two of them.

"Since time immemorial, humans like you never had the ability to properly curse someone of a higher standing than them. Your offensive thoughts are merely unpleasant to the ears; nothing more than that." Azazel answered, crossing his arms once more. He definitely found a habit in doing that, didn't he? Too bad; he wasn't scaring me any longer with that bodyguard pose.

"Then why the Hell are you here?" I demanded, still flaring. This was so going to cause me indigestion with the fire of rage burning inside me. "If you're just here to mock me, you'll get more than a few punches, Buddy."

"I have no particular inclination to 'buddy' you." Azazel's condescending tone was doubly annoying, and I wondered for the millionth time why the Special One upstairs could even bear to make someone as insufferable as this into an angel.

I appear insufferable only to you, Max.

Yeah, right. Leah thought he was rather irritating as well, didn't she?

She better appreciates my presence than you. The simple reply in my head made me wonder why he even bothered talking normally at all. Wasn't it easier for him to read my thoughts and answer them directly rather than wait for me to vocalise them?

I wouldn't want to appear rude in front of Marielle.

"Like talking in my head isn't rude?" I finally managed to vocalise my thoughts before he could answer them, placing my knuckles against my hips. Besides, I had already told Marielle about Azazel being able to read my thoughts and speak into my mind, so it wasn't such a hard concept to grasp for her –at the very least.

The insistent tugging at my arm made me turn around to see Marielle's surprised and rather unsure expression.

"Is he the angel? Azazel?" Leah's sister was definitely capable of putting two and two together quickly as she whispered lowly to me.

"Yes, I am." The interruption from the angel himself told us that he probably heard everything. Was there no end to his apparent lack of manners?

"I am not here to argue with you, Max." Azazel finally announced, looking down at me from the bridge of his nose as if he couldn't imagine looking at me on eye-level. What a stupid masochist pig. "As you and I both know, Leah and Vergil are not here."

"Thanks to you." I replied as snidely as I could, and saw Marielle's pitying expression made to Azazel. If she knew what he had made me and her sister go through, then maybe she wouldn't pity him so much. "You better tell me what you're doing here fast, or I'll be damning all possible police calls."

At least mind-reading was effective enough for him to not try tempting fate –though there was still that insufferable smirk drawn on the edges of his lips, as if knowing that I couldn't do any damage to him.

"Angels don't bother wasting time playing pranks on humans like you." Azazel explained, and I wasn't sure if I wanted to be insulted that he considered me a waste of his time, or if I wanted to understand that I somehow hadn't been made a joke. "I brought you here into this world for a reason, Max. I always have a reason."

"Then maybe you should start explaining them before I go back to get my guns." I warned, crossing my arms even though he probably could read in my mind that I wasn't playing around. There was really not much need for any physical indicators to show my emotions while around him, was there?

"I didn't have the time to correct the little mistakes of Dante's storytelling to you." Azazel continued, not bothered the slightest bit. "Marielle was the only one who knew the entire story of Leah's journey. And I needed you to know it all, to understand that it isn't so simple. You don't just find Vergil and tell him to bring you to Hell. I need you to work with them to free Sparda."

"Wait, wait. Hold up. When did I say anything about freeing Sparda? I was only talking about meeting him and thanking him: that's all."

Azazel pursed his lips for a short moment, looking between the still-surprised Marielle and me standing side by side, as if he was trying to figure out something between us. Considering he was supposed to be the all-knowing angel, it was interesting to see the curious expression on his face. At least, it was a fresh change from the 'I know everything you don't' look.

"You never told Max why your sister and Vergil went back to Limbo?" Azazel asked, addressing Marielle now.

Just as I realized that I never asked that question as well, Marielle shook her head in honest answer. "It never really occurred to me. I thought she knew about their mission."

"What?" It was my turn to ask Marielle, spinning around. "They are doing a mission?"

Azazel sighed –most probably in exasperation. But who cared about what the stupid, judgemental angel thought?

"They left this world on a joint mission given by their mother and me. Their mission was to seek to free Sparda from his chains in Hell, to reunite the entire Sparda family." Azazel answered in Marielle's stead in his usual condescending tone, and I whirled back around to stare at him as if he had sprouted horns.

"Then why am I a part of this mission? I just want to thank the guy, not risk being killed by Mundus saving him!" I know, my character here displayed was a little flawed, but give me a break –I never truly intended to be mixed up with all this Sparda crap! Sure, I was really grateful that Sparda had saved my family from certain demon attack, but was there a need for me to risk my life for someone I had met only once long long ago in my life?

"Isn't saving him alongside his sons and daughter a way of showing your gratitude? He gave your family happiness; isn't it your job to return the favour?" Azazel definitely saw my argument coming, for his reply was strong and righteous. Which totally made sense –but it didn't mean I had to like it.

"I don't remember signing up for this." I pouted a little, stuck in the middle. Azazel was probably going to threaten to keep me here in the Human World, where I was jobless and mostly credential-less, until I agreed to be part of his 'mission'. Still, for an angel to resort to such underhand means to make an innocent party like me... was he an angel at all, or was he just some guy with wings and mind-reading powers?

You are hardly innocent, Max. Sparda, regardless of his demonic nature, extended aid to you. Your father wants you to repay his kindness, and shouldn't helping his children save him be a part of this gratitude?

"Stop reading my mind, you stupid angel-freak." I snapped irritably, mostly because I found his words true. Which was super annoying, because I didn't like him to know everything and be the most knowledgeable.

"It is rather hard when you project your angry thoughts like a broadcast for me." He answered in the usual bland, 'are-you-really-so-stupid' tone that made me clench my fist and consider a second round of punching despite my sore knuckles.

"Fine." I finally huffed. There was no way of fighting it. Much as I liked Marielle and appreciated her friendliness, I still missed my job in Limbo. A world without demons, even though it was safer, was still more boring. "Say I join your stupid mission. What am I supposed to do now?"

"Prepare to go to Hell." The answer was so bland that Marielle and I exchanged looks of confusion, and a few more long moments of blinking passed to make sure we had heard the right thing.

"So now you're telling me that I don't need Vergil to go to Hell?" I demanded. Then what was the real point in me coming over here?

"It wasn't useless." Azazel must have read my angry thoughts again, staring straight at me. His boring black eyes shot through me, as if reading straight into my soul. It must be a freaky angel-thing. "You are fully human. To go to Hell alive, you need to enter it from a place where demons do not exist. If you try going to Hell from Limbo, you will die halfway, because you are not half-demon."

Marielle's loud gasp took the attention. "What about my sister? She's a human, and she went to Limbo!"

"Leah has Lily while she's in Limbo." Azazel explained kindly, which made me wonder why he was being polite to the young teenager, but not me. Were angels supposed to show favouritism? "Effectively, Leah is a half-demon while she is in Limbo. She will come to no harm."

"Thanks a lot for the heads-up so early in the game, buddy." I answered sarcastically. To think I had been searching for a one-way ticket to kill myself while in Limbo.

"You are welcome, buddy." The word was painfully emphasized, and he smirked even wider when I glared at him. "I cannot open the portal to Hell –for I am part of the heavenly forces. But I can tell you and show you where the naturally-occurring portal closest to Chrisvale is. You will pack your things and leave tomorrow. We have to be precise in the timings, or you might find yourself in a totally different part of Hell."

"How does that work?" I asked, obviously focusing on the wrong things. "So if I go in one minute late, I'll be at the other end of Hell? Is it some network where the exit point changes every minute?"

"Every second." It was only all that was offered in correction, and Marielle and I began to chalk up an imagination. Whoa. Every second, an exit point to Hell was different? Then how often would my intended destination appear?

Every month. That is why we must be utterly precise. It is crucial that you must be on time.

I didn't bother scolding him about reading my mind again, just plain gaping. I knew travelling between the worlds probably wasn't easy, but this was... crazy! So if I ended up at the wrong place in Hell, I had to wait a month to come back?

If you end up in the wrong place, coming back wouldn't be a very possible option. You are still, no matter what, a human in demon-infested Hell.

"Oh god." I said, suddenly feeling a little dizzy with the weight of it all. He had to be kidding. One split second, and I could be damned to die? "Where do I sign the annulment of contract for this shit?"

"There is no annulment." Azazel answered. "But take heart: I will be there to guide you until you reach Hell. You will not miss the time if you listen to me."

"You aren't very particularly helpful in your hints all the time, buddy." I snapped absently, but Azazel was already turning his back on us, black wings spread out. It blended so perfectly well in the darkness that I almost couldn't make out its shape.

"You want specific details, Max, and I will give them to you this once. I will meet you here tomorrow, at 1200 sharp. Bring Vergil's amulet with you –it was entrusted to protect Marielle. I will give her another charm to protect herself from demons, much as it is unlikely that there will ever be a demon attack here." Azazel spoke seriously, and didn't wait long for me to process the words. "Farewell, and I shall see you tomorrow."

Then there was a strong gust of wind, and the man took off. One second passed, and the shadow against the weak moonlight disappeared.

I groaned and hit my forehead against the post of the front porch of the Cartlier home.

When did I ever sign up for this?

God, help me.

I am your help, Max. Do remember that your 'buddy' is also an angel.

Azazel, while physically gone, still sounded in my head. I groaned louder and hit my head harder, worrying Marielle instantly.

God, help me.

And please send me someone that isn't Azazel.