(Part 20)

"Azazel did kill me." Eva explained, holding her intertwined fingers with Sparda carefully, as if the dream would shatter if she did anything too hard. "But he did it so that I could return as a human."

"I don't understand. Speak to us in English, Mum. Simple English." Dante raised both hands as if to show surrender.

"Our master –my ex-master now –didn't want me to stay angel forever. When the mission to save Sparda from Hell began, it appeared that Azazel had already been plotting with the Master to turn me back into human. But to do that, I had to die as an angel for my wings to be removed painlessly." Eva's patience shone through easily in the way she smiled gently at her son's confusion, as if Dante were still a young boy, asking innocent questions –like why you couldn't put Daddy Sparda's sword into Vergil because Vergil was being annoying.

"But why? Why did he not want you as an angel?" Vergil put in, half with worry, half with concern. Leah still laid limp in his arms, but his parents had reassured him over and over again that her vitals were fine.

They assured him that her daughter's vitals were fine as well. Vergil didn't want to think too much about what they meant now –more concerned with what had happened with Eva, and what was going to happen to them now. The reunion had finally come to the family after so long, and everything felt a little surreal. Never had Vergil truly imagined seeing his father and mother once more, alive and well, clutching each other's hand as if they would never let go.

"'Some people are purer when they are human', that's what the Master told me while I was floating in unconsciousness. I must have not been as pure an angel as I am a human now. But it matters not if I am angel or human now, because I am finally back to Sparda's side." Eva smiled at her son, leaned tightly into her husband's embrace and breathed her very own demon's scent.

The years spent locked in Hell hadn't changed the Sparda that she knew at all. Sure, he looked older and more haggard than he had ever been, but the lover that Eva knew was still around. Sparda was still the man that she fell in love with, still the struggling demon who couldn't seem to understand that it was him that she chose to fall in love with.

"Are you sure you are feeling fine?" Sparda's gentle, soft voice brushed through her, and Eva struggled not to shiver in the pure joy and relief of being back in this familiar embrace again. How long had she craved for this? Even as an angel, she had loved and pined for Sparda. Every single moment had been spent waiting for him, waiting for this moment where he would look into her eyes and ask her if she was feeling fine.

"I'm perfect with you, Sparda."

"Whoa, too hot! Things are getting way too hot here! If you wanna make another little brother or sister for us, you'd better bring it home and behind a door." Dante interrupted inappropriately, fanning himself with a happy grin. There was no mistaking the child-like glee behind those grown-up eyes, that happiness and joy of finally seeing his family as a whole again.

Never once had he imagined that he would see his entire family whole again, everyone grown up, well and fine. He even had a sister that he never imagined he had! It would still be a little hard to consider Leah his sister-in-law now that Vergil and Leah were engaged, but he guessed he would have to deal.

"You're not four years old anymore, Dante." Sparda answered with a small smile. "I assume you will understand the sock on the door very well in future."

"Yeah, well, it's going to be a metaphorical door, because I get the feeling that no one here has a house. Am I right?"

"What happened to Devil May Cry?" Vergil asked, even though he would admit that the state of filth and decay that he had witnessed in the building probably made living there toxic.

"Taken by the government, no utilities, no clean space to sit, no air to breathe." Dante answered easily. "Besides, I need a new location for DMC now that Mundus probably knows we're neck-deep in this shit."

"How did you ever let it rot to such filth, Dante?" Vergil sighed in obvious disappointment at his brother's lack of motivation to keep hygiene.

"I was part of it." Dante replied with a shrug. "But if we need somewhere temporary, I don't think Max minds."

"Max?" Sparda's injected. "Her name is Angel Cartwright, is it not?"

"Yeah, well, she calls herself Max. I call her Justine. So, what does the name matter?" Dante replied off-handed, already stepping towards the door.

"Where are you going to, Dante?" Eva asked the obvious, stopping her son at the doorway. With a slight hesitation set in his shoulders, Dante turned around with a sheepish expression.

"You know, I'm really glad to have everyone back alive and all. I'm happy to see you all here, and I would really like to be able to catch up with all of you on what we missed over the years..." Dante said with his brightest, child-like smile. In that moment, it appeared to both Eva and Sparda as if their son had never grown up at all; the innocent glee written all over his face. "But I'm sorry, I've got to leave for a moment. I promise I'll see you all back in Limbo."

"Wait." Vergil called, wanting to get closer to his twin, but not wanting to disturb the peaceful sleep that his fiancée was engaged in. "At least tell us what you are planning to do."

"Dad's got Mum back. You've got Leah." Dante smiled peacefully at the blissful state that his family members were all in. Back in the years, Dante had never imagined that he would feel jealous of them. He had, after all, been convinced that loving a woman was useless and it made men like him do embarrassing things. After all, he had been there and seen Vergil's weakness exposed so clearly to everyone through Leah's presence.

But when the feeling struck Dante, he couldn't help it. He wasn't sure if his father and brother had felt the same thing, but Dante knew it made him feel crazy. As if every minute had to be spent with her, making sure that she was safe, protecting her and making her happy. Even if she had already seen him at his worst, even if she might not be interested in making him a love partner. The urge to see her, to own her was too strong for Dante to resist.

"Be safe, my son." Sparda seemed to understand in a moment as he met Dante's eyes with an affirming nod. Finally, a nod of approval. A silent, unspoken form of blessing. Dante still wasn't sure how his father could still remember Angel 'Max' Cartwright after so many years of confinement, but he was glad that his father hadn't forgotten that amazing woman. No matter what Angel might have been like when she was young, Dante knew he had fallen for the grown woman Max. The strong and independent woman Max.

"I promise I'll come back with her." Dante offered his most hopeful smile, and charged out of the cell before anything more could be said.

"Do you think he will get her, my dear?" Eva asked, looking up to get a little certainty. Vergil had, after all, gotten his unending well of confidence from his father, and Sparda now looked at the empty space where his youngest son had stood a moment ago.

"I think Dante will do just fine." Sparda replied absently, pressing a kiss on his wife's head, and revelling the fact that he could do it once more. "After all, Vergil has given him enough a lead, haven't you, my son?"

Vergil only turned back to look at his parents, then back down at the sleeping face of tranquillity. She laid so soft in his lap, so at peace with the world. He had initially been worried about bringing her down to Hell with him, but she had told him with a straight face that if they wanted to save their father, they were doing it together.

"You must take care of her, Vergil." Sparda found the urge to say. It was obvious that his son was still oblivious to the pregnancy of his fiancée, and he could only guess that Leah was trying to find the perfect moment to break the news. "Your mother and I will only bless your marriage if you promise us that you will treat her and hers as a piece of your heart, only to be cared for and never hurt."

"Of course." Vergil dipped down to press a loving kiss on his fiancée's head. Eva shivered a little in the atmosphere of love, and Sparda's arms only tightened around her, reminding her that her lover was still very much around. "Leah is more than that. She has made peace right down to the very core of my soul. Without her..."

Sparda chuckled softly, remembering the young days where he had held his wife in the same way. Back then, he had tried his best to convince Eva's parents that he loved her more than anything in his life, but the god-fearing parents had refused to listen at all. In the end, the couple had to elope and flee from a mob of angry townsmen.

Still, Eva had not regretted a single moment of it.

"We understand." Sparda climbed to his feet, carefully helping Eva to hers. The weak woman wobbled a little, but balance was no problem when she leaned into her husband's strong support, his arms holding her carefully like fragile glass. Vergil followed his parents' example, carrying his fiancée bridal-style fearlessly. "Let us leave this god-forsaken place. Mundus might come after us any moment from now onwards, but let us take our time together second by second, minute by minute, day by day."

"We will wait for that day where Mundus will try to separate us once more." Vergil agreed, letting his parents stagger slowly out of the cell together, hand-in-hand.

"But until then, we are Sparda once more."

_____________________________________________________________________________________

The angels backed up in unison, and I struggled not to gasp at the fierceness in their faces. Were all angels supposed to be this scary when they fought things out with the demons, or was it just this group right here? As if some heavenly order had been given on them the moment Azazel and I reached the source of the fierce fighting, the angels –at least ten of them –backed up a safe distance away in the air, their wings flapping strongly and keeping them away from the ground.

They had a wide arsenal of weapons, and I stifled a bark of laughter when I saw an angel with his finger ready over his shotgun. Some of my giggle must have still escaped from my lips, because Azazel flew up closer to me while we approached the battlefield.

"Don't mention anything about angels with shotguns to him," Azazel whispered, since he must have traced my line of sight. "Xaviel hates the reminder ever since the song was released."

I wisely took the advice, because it looked like the angel named Xaviel was ready to kill someone with the way he glared at his quarry. Instead, I did my best to focus on the task at hand, keeping my chosen semi-automatic handguns tightly gripped.

After playing around and exchanging petty arguments with Azazel, he had finally relented to teaching me the simple basics of being an angel –namely how to fly, how to glide, how to float, how to protect myself and my wings, and finally (the most important of all) how to create weapons out of thought. He explained that most angels specialised in one weapon, but Azazel tended to diversify. I, understandably, chose my favourite type of weapons that came in the form of my trusty guns.

After all, you could give me a weapon as sharp as Vergil's Yamato, and all I would manage to do is to slice myself to pieces instead. Guns were better. Just aim, and let your finger do the rest of the work.

And now that I was more or less used to having wings, and equipped with my guns, we were making straight for the middle of the battlefield, where Mundus stood alone, looking only slightly tousled. I guess even Demon Kings had problems dealing with 10 angry angels at the same time, no matter how much of a fallen angel Mundus was.

To be rather honest, I had no idea what I was supposed to do. All I knew was that the disembodied voice that spoke to me –which I had come to realize was my new Master –had told me to follow Azazel and negotiate with Mundus for Sparda's freedom. Though it was rather a weird mission for my first ever task as an angel, I guess that it was something I could agree with, considering I wouldn't want to be put through a second mission to save Sparda again from Hell.

Still, I hadn't been given step-by-step instructions on exactly what to do, and so all I was doing now was to follow Azazel's footsteps.

"Thank you all for your aid." Azazel steered us quickly to where our brethren angels were waiting. "Let me introduce our newest sister to the fold: this is Angel 'Max' Cartwright. Her birth name was Angel, but she prefers to be called Max."

The curious eyes instantly turned to me in questioning about my name, and I could only smile sheepishly. I might not be afraid of telling the story of why I changed my name to anyone, but it felt weird telling angels about something so petty.

"In other times, a certain man calls her Justine." Azazel added, and my worry about being embarrassing was forgotten as I turned to gape at him. I should have expected that he listened to the conversations between me and Dante, but what the hell man! The 'Justine' thing was supposed to be only between Dante and me! It was private space!

"Welcome, Max." A friendly-looking woman-angel holding on to a sick-looking scythe smiled with a hand gesture in show of welcome. "We are the brethren of the Warriors, the army of the Master. My name is Karuna. With us are Nathaniel, Justin, Remy, Zachary (Call him Zach), Bell, Xaviel, Jean, Julius and Jayne."

It must be a result of the angel-improved minds, because I never imagined that I could be able to remember all their names at once. Yet, somehow, now as I took a quick look at their faces, I could immediately place names for them.

"Introductions aside," Azazel cut in fluidly, spinning around so that his back was no longer to our enemy, "We have a more pressing matter to deal with."

"What less do I expect?" Mundus knew that the attention was finally placed on him, as he stood tall and proud, looking up at the crowd of angels circling him in the sky. "When I get visits from the old, Filthy Master, I'll definitely not miss his black-winged traitor lap-dog Azazel."

"From one fallen angel to another, you'd do better pointing the traitor-finger at yourself." Azazel didn't seem fazed at all with Mundus's words. "Besides, he is no longer your Master. His choice in angels doesn't concern your business."

"Save me from your suck-up talk, Azazel. You and I both know what it is like to have your wings destroyed by the very entity that made you. We are the same –both moulded by the same existential pain of being casted aside, branded forever as a traitor." Mundus grinned –the pure smile of evil that made my back a little colder. I guess if I were a human, I would already be getting icy cold chills in my spine.

"The difference between you and me, Samael, is that you took that pain and changed it into evil. I took it and changed it into strength. It might be a mark on my wings to be forever black, but I have since witnessed much more purity than I ever did before my Fall. I have witnessed the creation and destruction of angels meant to be much better. I have experienced once more the utter Love of the Master."

Mundus merely yawned with a bravado of someone who couldn't be more bothered.

"And look at you, still forever a lapdog. Ever since I shook away the name branded into my being, I have been nothing but powerful. I can take over the world you consider yours to protect anytime. Both of it; Limbo or the Human World."

"And still, I afford myself –and my brethren –to look down upon you. My fellow Warriors would derive certain pleasure from rendering you powerless, Samael. If that isn't enough, I have here my fellow newest angel, fresh from the Making. You do remember the fact that an angel is purest and most powerful when she is just Made?" Azazel asked languidly, pushing me forward a little in the sky, as if to single me out of the crowd.

I never imagined the day that the Demon King of Hell would ever look up at me with a certain air of disbelief and uncertainty, but it all happened on that day. That moment, where I forced myself to look fiercer and more confident than I felt inside –because Azazel had told me nothing about angels being strongest at the point of creation.

"He must be beginning to lower his standards." Mundus finally declared with a disappointed shake of his head when the uncertainty had been so clear in his eyes. "She doesn't seem one fit to be an angel."

I couldn't believe it when Azazel laughed like he agreed with the Demon King. I got the general sense that our angel friends were rather horrified at that gesture as well, but I was more interested in giving my angel companion the 'what-the-hell' look.

"Trust me, she isn't your typical angel. Days have changed since you Fell, Samael. Purity isn't the only thing that makes an angel anymore."

"Then what makes her so different? Why that pair of wings?"

I couldn't help myself. "What's wrong with my wings? They're too pretty for your little beady eyes?"

I guess it wasn't the wisest thing to bait the Demon King, but right now, the false sense of security had brushed over me. We were in the sky, untouchable... right?

"Those were my wings! How dare you, a mere little child, make mockery of what used to be mine?"

I think I almost threw up. A small stir rose from our angel-army friends, but Azazel seemed to know it clearly.

"What the hell, Azazel?" I demanded. There were things that even angels of Death like him were supposed to say to new angels with wings belonging to a traitor! "I thought they were Eva's wings?"

"They were." Azazel answered, turning to me with an expression that plainly said that I shouldn't be complaining. "But before Eva, they were Samael's."

"You want me to fight him? With his wings? Aren't you being a little too cruel, even as an angel?" I asked, not sure if pity was the real thing that I felt for Mundus. I mean, it had to be a big dent on his pride if I killed him or something with his own wings?

"You must forget." Azazel held on to my hand and force the both of us to go closer to the surface of Hell, closer to Mundus. I tried fighting against his strength, but somehow he could keep hold of me –though with obvious effort. "We are not here to fight with him. Remember our mission?"

"I will not be part of your mission. Whatever you have to say to me, I will never agree to the likes of you." Mundus declared strongly.

"Let's call this a coerced persuasion." Azazel returned with a polite, lawyer-smile. It was those type of smiles that were always politically pleasant, but never true on the inside. Damned, if Azazel ever turned his back on being an angel, he could make a damned good demon. "It would be rather unfortunate for the Warriors to destroy you and still achieve our mission, would it now, Samael?"

"You can try, but I will defend myself to the end. I will take down your numbers as much as I possibly can, and drag them through the same pain I suffered." Mundus retorted, but not sounding as confident as before. I never thought I would imagine the day where I would hear the Demon King being slightly unnerved by anything or anyone.

"There is little need." Azazel landed us on the floor, with our fellow angel friends still silently listening on the conversation, floating in the air above us like back-up. I felt a little safer with them watching our backs. Just a tiny little bit. "Max here alone can deal with you."

"Right." The sarcasm was obvious in Mundus's tone. "What can a newly-made angel know about killing demons, much less me? Even for her strength and capabilities, she wouldn't even know how to kill a demon properly."

But that was where he was wrong, wasn't he? I was beginning to see why I was the one –out of everyone in the Sparda family –to be chosen to be made into an angel. I had been wondering about that all the way here, before I realised. I was chosen to take Eva's wings, because I happened to be human, happened to be acquainted to the Sparda family through Dante, and that I killed demons for a living.

I cocked back my guns, knowing that my show time was around the corner. "The problem with things, Mundus, is that I was a demon hunter before Azazel killed me. So yeah, I know how to kill demons. And better yet, I think I know how to kill a traitorous fallen angel, now Demon King. Do you seriously want to test me?"

There was a long moment in which Mundus took to decide whether I was just faking my bravado, or if I was utterly serious about being a demon hunter in my human life. He seemed to calculate his odds well, because he took the slightest half-step backwards.

"At least state what you angels are here for." He tried to sound demanding and threatening, but the fact that he was asking meant that he was relenting a little, right?

"Freedom." Azazel answered quickly for me. I guessed this was my role in the mission, wasn't it? To unnerve Mundus. "Freedom for the Sparda family. Let everyone with Sparda's blood leave Hell, and let them stay away from Hell. You can try to kill them, or send demons after them –that is up to you as a Demon King. But you shall never drag them down and keep them imprisoned in Hell as you have done to Sparda."

"And what is that in for you?" Mundus questioned sceptically, as if he were not being threatened to make the deal. Rather, I guess you couldn't consider it a deal –but hey, no one was around to keep track.

"Nothing is in for us." Azazel answered with an honest shrug, still standing comfortably a dangerous distance away from the Demon King. "But it's in for our Master. Sparda, since his 'traitorous' actions, have been considered pure enough a demon to be assigned an angel."

Mundus spluttered with laughter. "An angel guarding a demon? What has the three worlds above this spiralled into?"

"Contrary to popular belief, it isn't that hard. Sparda was, in all sense, pretty much like a normal human. You should know better, Samael. You know how it feels to watch over a human as a guardian."

"And who is this utterly unfortunate soul assigned to guard Sparda's wretched life?"

"Mine."

The surprised silence came not only from Mundus and me, but also our angel friends. Apparently Azazel had been keeping secrets not only from us, was he? Then again, didn't anyone in the heavens get curious about which angel was watching over the one demon deemed worthy of being guarded over?

"Let us not waste any more time." He declared, summoning a strange looking dagger to his hands. Another surprised stir came from the angels above us, and it seemed to warrant a reaction from Mundus as well. I blinked in confusion, watching Azazel confidently bring the sharp edge of the dagger across his palm. Not really sure what was happening, I kept my confused silence as Azazel brought out a palm full of surprisingly crimson blood.

I didn't know what colour I expected angel's blood to be, but I was pretty sure that I did not expect red. But then again, if angels were made from human souls, then I guess they bled red as well. Correction, we bled red as well.

"Max," Azazel's stern voice broke me out of my wondering reverie. "Your hand."

"Why?" It is understandable that I got defensive, right? I still had my doubts about Azazel being a good guy, considering (not matter what vindication he had about following orders) he had still backstabbed Eva.

"To make a binding deal, we need to blood of a witness. You are the witness today." Azazel explained, though he sounded as if he would rather do the explanation elsewhere. I bit my bottom lip, sucking back my protest against being the appointed witness, and held out my hand. I guess that I was still fresh from being human, because I did my best to pull away when Azazel caught my palm and turned it up towards the dagger.

"Why is she," Mundus interrupted, pointing sharply at me, "our witness?"

I noted he had said nothing about him agreeing to anything.

"Because somewhere down this road, Max is going to take over my role as guardian of Sparda."

I jerked my hand back, stronger than I thought I was. I guess this was the evidence of 'an angel is strongest when she is just made', but at the moment, I didn't really care.

"No one told me about this!" I exclaimed. Somewhere down the road, I was going to be Sparda's guardian angel? Someone had to be kidding me. The master was pulling my leg, wasn't he? I remembered the voice saying that I would be a guardian angel, but who the hell with the right mind would place me guarding someone like Sparda? Azazel was doing a fine job, wasn't he?

"You would be informed sooner or later. But for now, do stop making such a ruckus." Azazel sounded like he was scolding a kindergarten child as he grabbed my hand roughly, struggling hard against my protests and shaking. I admit, I was never the most mature type of woman as a human, and it didn't change at all as an angel.

And so, embarrassing as it was to say, Azazel and I re-enacted a scene of a parent bringing his six year old daughter to get a shot at the doctors. Simply put; I was shouting, pulling and tugging my hand away from his dagger, and he was yelling, pulling and tugging my hand back in return. I guess we were a comic scene that grossly entertained our angel friends, because none of them came down to take sides. Even Mundus stood at the side, watching amusedly.

I guess even demons and angels shared the same kind of amusement regardless of the animosity between them?

"I give in." Mundus finally interrupted, somehow smiling as if we had done something to please him. "To know that he will be cursed with a guardian angel of her sort, I will allow him and his family a free pass. This will be under the circumstance that she will promise me to wreak havoc on his life, and make it as sufferable as she can afford to."

"Hey, what do you mean by 'cursed'?" I stopped pulling for a moment to protest against Mundus, and Azazel took the chance, slicing my palm open and earning a shocked cry from me. It didn't really hurt, but the surprise from the sudden attack made me shriek.

I guess I really am not made out to be an angel.

Regardless, Azazel pressed our bloody palms together and mixed our bloods. I cringed, hoping he didn't have HIV/AIDS.

Lastly, he passed the dagger to Mundus, who watched me with an eagle gaze while he sliced his own palm –and black blood welled. I busied myself staring at his palm, as the thick tar-black liquid like blood oozed from his wound. In a totally business-like manner, angel and demon shook hands with the blood mixing in between them. There came a sharp, short glow in which I assumed a deal was struck, and then their hands came apart.

Wow, I really don't know what I expected.

"It wasn't expected of you to cave in so easily, Mundus." Azazel finally commented, wiping his hand clean now that he had made his dagger disappear once more.

"You brought in a convincing angel." The Demon King replied with a gesture towards me. "And besides, Sparda's presence in Hell was beginning to lose its effect in keeping the demons in line. His betrayal is old news. Set him free, and send a few demons to hunt him every now and then will keep him fresh and hated. It works for me, for you, and for his family."

"You know," I commented before Azazel could stop me. "I thought you would be much more of a bastard. I heard stories about what you did with Eva, Leah and Lily. You're a great big motherfu-"

Azazel's hand covered my mouth in warning, and I was pulled back with an arm wrapped around my stomach to keep me away from the amused Demon King.

"She reminds me of you before your Fall, Azazel."

"I do not appreciate your reminder." Azazel's answer was icy cold, but I sensed that a little of that hostility was extended to me. Oops, I guess I should have washed my mouth just a tiny little bit more.

"Vulgar little minx." Mundus swept his eyes up and down over me with a little interest. "And you say she was a demon hunter as a human?"

Azazel must have nodded, because Mundus grinned.

"I will look forward to her Fall." Mundus laughed like the evil Demon King he was, and walked away.

It was a good thing that his back was to me, because I think he didn't see my brandished middle finger.

Being angel was probably something good and pure right? I think the master's production line must have cocked up a little somewhere, because I had to be the world's most vulgar angel.

Then again, it was better than an angel with a shotgun, right?

Xaviel probably wouldn't think so, though.