Dante laughed. “He would say that.”
They walked in silence after that, Dante satisfied with the knowledge that Erin knew enough about him. Erin contemplated what Dante had told her about his trip to the past.
Dante and Erin walked in silence for a few hours, each enjoying the beauty of the land. The demon could tell that Erin was contemplating the things he had told her and was ready to answer whatever questions she undoubtedly had. But it was not until Bethlehem was in sight that she decided to speak up.
“So… you never explained how Death sent you back in time,” Erin said.
Dante shrugged. “It was a magic spell. That’s all it really was. Nothing too special, I suppose.”
“But it would have to be a fairly powerful spell… I don’t see how a reaper needs power like that.”
Dante could see the confusion in her face. “Lord Death is the closest thing to a god this world has,” he explained. “Actually, I think ‘god’ may be the wrong term. He’s more of an entity - a being outside of our own limited scope of understanding. He’s not exactly just some immortal soul; Death is a being that exists in every point in time, in every place, in all of existence. I imagine he simply tapped into that essence to send me back. Do you understand now?”
Erin nodded. “I think so. Sort of… Then, tell me about this enemy of yours, the one with the ages-old grudge you mentioned when we left your home.”
Dante sighed. “He was there when I first appeared in the past. Apparently, Heaven and Hell were allies back then, or at least they were as close to allies as was possible. I’m still not entirely sure. He witnessed the destruction of all those cities I was sent to burn. He spent those forty years chasing after me to stop me from fulfilling Lord Death’s task. Victor had no idea what that task was nor how it would save so many people from the bombs. Then again, none of what I would have told him even seemed possible back then. There were no nuclear powers, no weapons of mass destruction… other than myself with all the extra power Death granted me… He wouldn’t have been able to understand what would come to pass. He fought against me finally, near the end. He gave it everything he had too. A classic battle between good and evil, angel and demon, right and wrong. In the end, evil triumphed for the greater good. Ironic, really. And a bit amusing, to be honest.” Dante trailed off with a faraway look in his eyes. His head tilted slightly to the side and he had a shallow smile on his face.
“But you didn’t kill him,” Erin said after some time had passed.
Dante snapped his attention back to her. “Actually I did. I felt his heart stop. The world even seemed to get a little darker with his passing. He pulled a rather sneaky trick on me, though.”
“What was it?”
Dante’s brow furrowed in his attempt to recall what it was Victor’s image had told him. “I don’t remember,” he said at length. “He told me, I know it, but I can’t seem to remember what he said… I guess the shock of seeing him alive after I left him in the dust those thousands of years ago distracted me.”
Erin frowned, thinking it odd that Dante would forget such an important detail. However, seeing that it bothered Dante quite a bit, she decided to change the subject.
“How will you know what’s changed? Won’t your memories be altered to match the current timeline?” she asked.
“They were altered. But I still have my old memories from before I left. I have a parallel set of memories.”
“I don’t understand,” Erin replied.
“Well, honestly, neither do I,” Dante quipped. “But I know enough of what’s different to prepare me for all the changes I may face.”
“Like what? What’s different this time?”
“For one,” Dante said, lifting a single finger, then pointing it at Erin, “You exist.”
Erin looked confused.
“In one set of memories, Gerard never had children, let alone grandchildren. Yet here you are.”
Erin paused to let the thought sink in and shook her head. She found it impossible to imagine her own lack of existence.
“How did he never have children?” she asked after several minutes had passed.
“He was homosexual, and he was in love with me.”
“Well, that’s bold to say,” Erin muttered.
“No,” Dante corrected. “It’s the truth. He never shut up about it. In my new set of memories, he never shut up about your grandmother, either. That was a sad day when she died.”
“You were there?” Erin balked.
“Don’t forget, little girl, I am well over a hundred years old. It really wasn’t that long ago to me, even with the extra forty years I spent in the past. Then again, that would still put me at about eighty… Huh… Time travel really messes with your time tables…”
Erin kept silent for a while. There were more questions rolling through her mind now than before. Then, a thought occurred to her.
“Why did Death send you to do his bidding?” she inquired.
Dante shook his head. “I thought I told you that,” he replied.
“No, why you in particular?”
“Ah… I’m not sure, really. He mentioned something about the fact that I’ve never been to Hell. I was born here on Earth, you know. In Manhattan, in fact. I suppose it was because my demonic powers hadn’t fully developed yet. He needed someone he could infuse with more power in order to do what he needed to be done.”
“Okay…” Erin sighed. “Then why send you at all? Why not do it himself?”
“Now, there’s a good question,” Dante grinned. “Since Death is a ruler, like Ra and the king of Hell, he is not allowed to directly interfere. He may choose a champion to do his bidding but no more.”
“But he gave you more power,” Erin countered.
“Only the same power I would eventually grow into. He amplified my innate abilities. And the knowledge of said abilities is still in there,” he said, tapping a finger to his temple.
“But… If he’s a being in every point in time, and in every place who is there to stop him from getting directly involved in mortal affairs? What happens then?”
“I happen,” came an angry voice behind them. Dante and Erin spun to see who had spoken and Dante gasped in shock.
“Artemis!” he hissed. “What the hell are you doing here?”
The black-armored, winged being took a menacing step toward them, face twisted into a fierce scowl under the black silk blindfold.
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
Artemis approached Dante, fists clenched. Shadows coalesced around his right hand and formed into a long, dark blade. The sword had no physical form; it seemed to be made up of shadows and the souls of the damned. Artemis brought the tip of the blade to Dante’s throat. “Give me one good reason why I shouldn’t add your pathetic little soul to my personal collection,” he sneered.
Dante was lost. “What do you mean? Last time we met, you tried to be my friend.”
Confusion caused Artemis’ sneer to falter. “Last time we met, you were a child, still crying over your parents’ deaths. Make sense, Dante.”
“Shit…” Dante muttered. “You’re not the Artemis I met back then.”
“I said, make sense,” Artemis demanded.
“Must I explain it all over again?” Dante asked angrily. “Don’t you watch over all of us like your little subjects, Artemis? Or are you too busy being a god to dirty your pretty little hands in the affairs of us mortals?”
Artemis backed off just a bit, but kept his sword up and at the ready. “Believe it or not, you’re not the most important thing in the world to me,” he spat. “What did the Reaper want with you? I know he spoke to you.”
Dante rolled his eyes and explained to Artemis what Death had wanted with him. All the while, Artemis’ sneer nearly softened. By the time Dante got to their last meeting, Artemis understood.
“You met my future self, then,” he surmised. Even though he remained somewhat skeptical, he allowed his shadow sword to dissipate to nothingness.
“Y
ou think?” Dante muttered dryly. “Why the hell did you come here? And why the aggression?”
“I was under the impression that Death was interfering still. I sensed his presence here and came running.”
“Why would Lord Death be here?” Erin asked, breaking her silence for the first time since Artemis arrived. She had been shocked to silence by the presence of such a powerful, angry being.
“I came to find out,” Artemis replied. “His presence is diminished now, but it seems to hang on you like a fog, Dante.”
Dante shrugged. “I don’t know why. Go ask him. You’re perfectly capable of going to wherever it is he hangs out.”
Artemis shot another angry scowl his way before disappearing.
Erin let out a loud sigh and stared at Dante. “You don’t like him much,” she stated.
Dante shook his head and began walking toward the nearby city, keeping quiet.
Erin walked after him, asking, “What happened between you two? You hate him, I see that, but why?”
Dante didn’t even look at her. He just kept walking.
“Dante, tell me. It obviously bothers you a lot. Maybe talking about it can help.”
Dante’s fists clenched.
“Dante-”
“Drop it,” he commanded.
Erin shook her head. “Why? What-”
She was interrupted by Dante’s hand firmly clenched on her throat. Slowly he began to squeeze harder - refraining from completely crushing her windpipe - while he effortlessly lifted her two feet off the ground. Erin clawed at his hand and pleaded with her eyes for him to let her go. Dante squeezed harder. Just as her eyes began to roll up into her head, Dante let go, dropping her to her knees on the hard ground, gasping for air.
“Keep pestering me about something I obviously don’t want to talk about,” Dante growled slowly, a frightening light burning in his eyes, “and I will end you. Do I make myself clear?”
Struggling for breath, Erin nodded, offering a choked apology. She rubbed at the quickly darkening bruise on her throat and stumbled to her feet. Her knees were still a bit shaky, but she managed to follow behind him as he continued walking, well out of arm’s reach. The stories her grandfather had told her mentioned the demon’s volatility, but she was not prepared for this. Still, she wanted to go on this trip, and had begged her grandfather to talk to Dante to convince the demon to take her along. If she was to learn from her hero, she would have to stay with him. The thought occurred to her that she could potentially teach him to be a better person. At least, she hoped she could.
They entered the city of Bethlehem shortly before nightfall, and Dante made for the nearest tavern. Erin hung back, unsure if she wanted to be around the demon after he had been drinking. She decided she would at least pay for two rooms and get some rest.
Dante walked directly up to the bar and slapped a cupped hand on the wood. Light tinkling sounds chimed from under his palm as the conjured coins appeared. The bartender immediately turned to Dante, asking with his eyes what he would like.
“Bottle of the strong stuff, please.” The bartender reached under the bar and produced a large, ancient bottle of brownish liquid. The label had faded over time, telling Dante nothing of its contents. Money in hand, the bartender went back to wiping the bar with a dirty rag. Off to one side, Dante saw Erin handing money over to a large man with a giant key ring on his belt. Likely the landlord, the demon figured as he uncorked his bottle. The heavy scent of alcohol assaulted his nostrils and he brought the bottle to his lips. It tasted foul and burned all the way down, but it worked. He took a closer look at the label and thought he saw the word ‘unleaded’ in faded print. Paying it no mind, Dante took another swig and looked around the bar. Patrons were filing in after a long day of work. Some were merchants, others laborers; most of the patrons looked like farmers, though. Some women danced in a corner of the large common room, surrounded by lecherous men hoping for a more private dance later. The dancers - young women, old women and some who looked to still be in their teens - wore flashy, revealing clothes. Some of them may have been attractive, if not for the garish amounts of makeup.
Dante went back to scanning the tavern. Some of the patrons eyed him warily, noting him as a stranger. It was fair; the last time Dante had been through this city, many of these patrons, grizzled and bent from life, were nothing more than children. It amused him to think of how short a life most humans had. Already humans were beginning to scoff at the idea of demons and angels existing and living among them. One of the dancers in the corner was a vampire. One man entering the tavern had the look of a werewolf. Occasionally, one of the creatures would make eye contact with Dante and recognize him for what he was. There would be an almost imperceptible nod of recognition and respect shared between them, then they would return to their drinks.
His own drink finished, Dante left the empty bottle on the bar and made for the door. He wanted to sit in a more high-class bar than this one.
“Oy, now, lad,” the bartender shouted after him.
Dante turned and raised an eyebrow.
“Ye sure ye good to wander off?” the bartender asked. “Ne’er seen a man put away a whole bottle o’ the degreaser and walk straight.”
“I’m well adjusted,” Dante grinned sardonically and he walked out of the tavern. Outside, he missed his step off the curb and nearly stumbled. “Stronger than I thought,” he muttered about the drink. He walked off deeper into the city and found a nicer bar. Through a window, Dante could see the more refined city folk enjoying drinks and dinner. This was where he wanted to be. He entered the building and strode up to the bar. Once again, he conjured some coins and placed them on the bar. The man behind the bar looked at the coins and smiled politely.
“The cheap stuff?” he asked.
Dante smiled and slapped a few gold coins onto the first pile. “Bottle of the best in the house, please,” he replied.
The barkeep slid the coins into a pocket and walked to the storeroom. He came back holding a large wine bottle. The label was inlaid with silver filigree and fancy lettering. Dante took it and popped the cork. It had an earthy bouquet and reminded Dante of his rusted out submarine.
“Is this Russian?” he asked incredulously.
The barkeep nodded and said, “Incredibly hard to get, but worth the extra coin.” He offered a glass to Dante, who waved it away. “Ah, I should have remembered. You take it straight from the bottle, don’t you?”
Dante gave a wry smile and took a large gulp of the liquid. He set the bottle down and nodded in appreciation. “Have I really been here that often?” he asked.
The barkeep grinned, revealing a set of sharp fangs. “Two other times in the last thirty years at least. I have a good memory for faces and scents. Not often I get a demon drinking in my establishment.”
“Seems like it’s been longer for me,” Dante chuckled, taking another drink.
The vampire bowed and went back to his other patrons, leaving Dante in peace.
Dante turned and leaned against the bar, affording himself a better view of the common room. This place was much larger than the other tavern but provided almost as much entertainment. Most of the patrons were seated at tables, enjoying their fine wines and gourmet dishes. Some light, soothing music was playing in another room, and a group of beautiful dancers graced a stage along the far wall, keeping to the tempo of the music. They were a vast improvement over the dancers in the last bar to Dante’s estimation. These women wore long, flowing gowns with adequate covering. They wore minimal makeup and even the hint of it played upon their own natural beauty. They danced barefoot, the hems of their soft gowns barely brushing the smooth wood of the stage as they changed positions. Each dancer took a turn at the front of the group, each of them just as graceful as the last. One dancer in particular caught Dante’s eye. She wore a deep red skirt with a black corset top. The skirt was slit to mid-thigh, occasionally revealing a shapely leg, toned from years spent on the dance floor. Her auburn hair casca
ded over her shoulders in waves, a few light curls bouncing with the motion of her body. Her eyes sparkled like emerald stars in the night sky and they flashed in his direction more than once. Those eyes caught him like a snare and stole his breath. Her alabaster skin shone softly in the warm glow of the candlelight. But it was her eyes that called to Dante like a siren’s song. Her full lips curled into a playfully light smile, causing Dante’s legs to feel weak. He lost all sense of where he was. He was frozen in the moment, watching that amazing, beautiful woman render him senseless. His heart felt like it would burst from his chest. His skin went cold and he could feel the goose bumps forming. His mouth was dry and his hands were sweating.
A loud crash shattered Dante’s trance and he looked around to see what the noise was. His bottle had slipped from his fingers and lay shattered on the floor. Several patrons glanced his way with overtly judgmental glares. The dancers took no note of him at all, though the auburn haired woman did stifle a smile. Dante heard the vampire at the bar click his tongue in displeasure at the waste of such a rare and expensive bottle of wine. Dante didn’t care. He swept his gaze back to the dancers, but the one he was looking for was in the back of the group and hard to spot.
Dante swung around, facing away from the distracting women. He slapped four gold coins on the bar and ordered another bottle. The vampire grudgingly produced another and took the coins. Dante popped the cork and drank half the bottle in one breath. Feeling like the alcohol was finally doing its work, he backed off.
“What the hell?” he asked himself quietly.
“Having trouble?” the vampire asked him from the floor.
Dante looked down to see the vampire cleaning up the mess he had made. “Of course not,” he muttered, taking another long pull from the bottle. He drained it within a few seconds. Before long, the music in the other room had ended and Dante could hear shuffling sounds heading toward the stage. He glanced over his shoulder and saw that the dancers were gone and the band was setting up on the stage. They kept toward the back of the stage, allowing room for a singer, Dante guessed. He ordered another drink, this one cheaper but stronger.
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