Wow, has it really been 4 plus years? I believe I owe all of you guys a profound apology for having neglected fanfiction due to unforeseen circumstances for so long. I do not know if any one still reads this story, but I will update Chaos's Warm Embrace weekly rest assured now that I am back- permanently!!! I am honoured and grateful beyond words to so many people who followed this story from the beginning and gave me hope, courage and inspiration with their kind words.

All apologies, and thank you for reading. I hope you will leave me with a review and let me know if you want me to continue, because I'd love to bring a long overdue closure to this saga, and as always, all my readers mean the world to me.



Why in the name of the flaming Abyss every time he effectively battered down the carefully erected barriers of the only girl who managed to still hold his interest, his irksome pest of a brother literally materialized out of nowhere, disrupting the rapturous current of the moment?!

Vergil's frosty face registered an expression of sheer annoyance and acute agitation, blue eyes flashing a furtive, fathomless glance at the beautiful huntress frowning next to him.

Correction, Vergil thought, annoyance did not even begin to cover what he felt. Murderous rage was more apt under the circumstances.

Vergil groaned inwardly and silently cursed his ill fate; wondering what he'd done to be constantly bedevilled by his pest of a brother, and bewitched by a girl-crusader who hated him.

Oh nothing really, just renounced and fatally wounded your twin brother, killed, maimed and destroyed in pursuit of full-fledged Devilhood and dethronement of the Prince of Darkness…

Over the course of their journey to the tower's summit Vergil's vast patience, self-discipline and coldly serene mental state had been sorely tested, his feelings and his powerful physical nature yanked hither and yon by several annoying and untoward disruptions. Fulfilment had been constantly eluded, cold reason appeased to display hollow facades in denial of the attraction, -no, connection, inexplicable closeness, oneness even- between the Azure Half-Devil and his electrifyingly seductive yet spectacularly clueless huntress.

His huntress?!

Vergil ignored his incapacitated brother and the slithering shadows pooling monstrously about him, and cut his attention back to the girl stuck between the thick marble wall and his equally solid and hard body. Another moment's hesitation would kill the palpable, almost touchable erotic current between Lady and him. Who knew if there would be another opportunity for such closeness, Vergil sensed with an ominous tug in his gut that their time together was drawing close to its conclusion.

Cursed Dante and his cursed timing!

Let him suffer, he can die and be resurrected as Mundus's personal doormat and punch bag as many times as the Dark Prince wishes for all I care at the moment, but I cannot relinquish this human female until I know the extent of her threat to my plans.

Until I know the extent of her hatred.

And the extent of her desire.


"Dante!?" Lady lost prompt interest in the blue Half-Devil who had until this moment held her captive in blue chains of unspoken enthrallment.

Her instincts told him there was something wrong about Dante, but then again that was putting it mildly. Both Half-Devil brothers were the ultimate embodiment of 'wrong' in Lady's opinion, but the last time she had seen Dante this comatose was when Vergil had skewered him on that wicked looking otherworldly blade whose origins bespoke of demoniac legacy.

It wasn't just Dante who exhibited strange behaviour; Vergil's sudden abandon of silk-and razor-smooth icy composure was quite disconcerting. It might have been so much easier to deal with the icy blue serenity that defined Vergil, but Lady was not used to his volatile, angry and agitated moods. When these two brothers got together, their brief, volatile and colourful exchange was followed by a spectacular fight or other testosterone-induced contests of will and strength.

But lately both the rivalry and the faint fraternal bond between the brothers had been altered by a new tension caused by –dare she think it- her very presence!

Maybe it was just as well that Dante was incapacitated and blissfully incapable of aggravating Vergil into further indignation, who was already riled into a devilishly bad temper; Lady could do without another quarrel between the brothers. Vergil would no doubt use this opportunity to skewer his twin a second time.

Was Vergil the kind of dishonourable man who'd strike a man when he was already down and vulnerable?

She didn't know what kind of man Vergil was, only that he was a Devil.

And Devils were not known to play fair.

Even so, the little time they had shared together told her Vergil prized honour and some twisted code of personal integrity which defined him as much as his cold-blooded and ruthless fanaticism did. He would not dishonour himself to take out an already downed opponent. He would instead wait with callous and imperial patience until his opponent got back to his feet and had a sword in his hand. Then, with a uniquely fluid and majestic art of swordplay he would unleash all his Devil might on his opponent until he was well and truly obliterated or be obliterated himself.

Even if his opponent was his twin brother, his own flesh and blood. Vergil's distorted bushido did not recognize friend, foe or family. Only courage, willpower, honour and loyalty to his goals mattered.

Like a dark samurai…

Lady stifled a shriek of exasperation.

Men are such fools! And these two are a special breed –make that half-breed- of boneheads! Both try their best to outdo and outmanoeuvre each other while all they should do is stick with each other as brothers do and finish off this Mundus they keep mentioning! One deluded douchebag has got it in his head that I need protection from the other jackass poser who's so obsessed with becoming a Devil and got his head jammed so firmly up his ass he can't see what's in front of him!

What's in front of him, Mary? You, perhaps?

No, don't even go there, Lady told herself. If she did, she wouldn't be able to stop staring, wanting…

Breathe, centre your will, focus on something else, something harmless…

She glanced at the unconscious Dante, thinking it odd the loud and merry twin should still be out for the count, but as she watched, the crimson Half-Devil's eyes opened to groggy slits as he recovered from his paralysis and surveyed the room blearily, moaning in apparent agony.

Lady took a speculative step forward.

And slammed straight into Vergil who was blocking her path.

Too outraged to react properly, she had hardly any time, space or inclination to think at all once she was suddenly jammed between the hard wall and Vergil's powerful, uncompromising, muscle-solid body which was as hard as the said wall she was mercilessly crushed against. He held her as though he was about to ravish her and annihilate her at the same time. Even though his seraphically gorgeous face remained icily remote and dispassionate to the point of resembling a scowling alabaster statue, his eyes were blazing in deep, dark blue frenzy, some strange and unknowable emotion flaring dangerously in their depths.

Staring into those Blue Devil eyes was akin to standing in the heart of a violent tempest; despite being in the centre of his frosty rage and aggression, Lady knew almost instantly she would not be its recipient. Vergil would always direct it back into himself rather than strike her in his wrath.

If she wasn't stuck between the two immovable objects, Lady would have either slammed her knuckles or her scarlet boot –or preferably both- into that sublimely handsome face or just legged it hardcore.

"I did not say you could move just yet." Vergil snarled in her ear softly, sibilantly, provocatively, although his face was a chunk of iceberg; hard, cold and unyielding.


When he detected Dante's presence even before his twin was roughly hurled through the seething, Hadean shadows, plunged through the gleaming jet black ceiling and crashed to the floor with a bone-crunching thud, Vergil was effectively spurred into action, guided by his instincts that left no room for reason and logic.

His hand impulsively clenched around Lady's sylphlike ivory neck as though testing the delicate strength of her bones and the madly pulsing veins underneath that inferior human skin. His royal-blue eyes were nailed into hers with a singular interest, probing deep beneath that solid aura of emotional armour and defiant hatred. His upper lip curled at the corner with contemptuous deliberation.

Out of the corner of his eye, Vergil could clearly see the inelegantly sprawled and disoriented form of Dante on the floor half-cursing, half groaning in furious pain before passing out again.

About time, Vergil thought.


The dark, deep and majestic voice froze Lady instantly with stark shock contorting her sweat-glistening face. She refused to be alarmed by the glacial menace the serene silk of the regal voice only a Devil or Seraph could ever possess, and summoning all her courage, Lady lifted her head proudly and confronted the pure, arrogant embodiment of all her vexations and temptations.

Vergil could expertly manipulate even the most primal beast to his whim at a slight dip or soar of his darkly divine, opulent voice that could sound like an exquisite caress or a cracking whiplash.

She froze up, but inside began to melt hotly, nerve endings fluttering with anticipation and anger. A full moment passed before she could speak.

"If you don't let go of me this second, I swear on my mother's name you will regret it, Vergil!" Lady hissed sharply, chillingly, even though she was paralysed by his seemingly infinite and suffocating strength holding her perfectly still against the wall.

Two can play this game, you watch Devil-beast, dog of Sparda!

The satisfaction of slapping his cocky, gorgeous face had been short-lived, transient and not much of a payback when Lady reflected on it. Regret had crept into her features, and Vergil had seen her remorse as clearly as he had seen her cascade of tears.

Damn and double damn!

"So, Lady, I see you are still bent on harassing me with your overzealous drivel of feminist drama. Of course, this gives me great grievance just when I thought a moment ago you were making adequate progress toward complaisance." Vergil kept his silky deep voice deliberately gruff, injecting it with a low growl of sarcasm and slowly teasing edge, watching her eyes widen in outrage.

The scarlet heat of her hatred hit Vergil like a firestorm, instantly engulfing him in molten flames, bringing him an oddly twisted satisfaction.

Bringing him to life.

Vergil not only admired her gritty resolve and stubborn defiance, but also her unique capacity to bring him alive with so much rage and passion that had been safely hidden away deep inside him to the point he had forgotten he had ever possessed the said violent emotions at all.

"Complaisance!!!" Lady choked on the word, the fierce, tumultuous glitter in her eyes turned murderous as she struggled against the crushing, devastating strength of his steel-solid body pinning her effortlessly to the wall. And each desperate attempt at freeing herself from his firm hold pressed her even closer into him, making her painfully aware of the sleek, immeasurable power of his muscles and prominent maleness. Her fingernails itched to dig into his smooth skin and draw blood.

How can I fight him when I can't even fight my own body's stupid weaknesses?

"That is correct. After all, your kind exists to serve mine. You might not do a very enthusiastic job of it, but the least you can do is acknowledge my dominance, shut up and get over it." Vergil snapped softly, irritably, battling to control his own violent agitation.

Aware of nothing but Vergil's greater strength imprisoning and rendering her body immobile, Lady twisted her head to sink her teeth into his neck, his jugular even, to show him she was not afraid even in this debilitated state, that she would rather die than be bullied into submission!

Vergil's mouth twisted in grim amusement at her pathetic efforts. More disconcertingly so, Lady's soft, tightly slender length was writhing against him, tormenting his flesh the only way she knew how. His electric blue eyes slitted in sardonic mirth as he clamped his arm possessively around her slender waist, daring her to fight him with all she had.

"I've got news for you, you disgusting, vile, devil swine- my kind exists to obliterate yours!" Lady raged. "And if you had a fraction of decency, you would release me and fight me like a man!!!" She had to do something, say anything, to distract herself from the disturbing direction of her thoughts, and gain the strength to tug her wrist free from his hold, and her body from the prison of his tall, tightly muscled frame.

"I can see there is no way to dissuade you from your impetuous, brash and impertinent attitude, so I will enlighten you on one point, Lady. I am no man. I am a Devil- first and foremost. Even so, if I did not have the decency you accused me of lacking, you would not be standing right now. You would be on the ground, like that imbecilic brother of mine, beaten and tortured senseless until all courage and dignity knocked out of you, writhing in agony and begging for release in death."

"I guess you're expecting me to kneel and kiss your feet in gratitude for such magnanimous mercy, oh almighty Devil-Lord!" Lady grimaced harshly, driven to boiling point, still trying to squirm free from his steely grip.

Vergil's silver-winged brows lifted in a sardonic, mocking amusement.

Way to go, Mary, you twit! Those were not exactly the right choice of words, damn it all to hell and back, I am floundering and blundering badly!

"Not the most tempting offer I've ever had, but I suppose that kind of humble display of proper supplication may be a bit more conducive to your future wellbeing. If you can carry it out with less nonsensical chatter the better." His voice went softer, colder, silkier.

No, the Devil-dog was not going to get away with so many insults, not this time!


With every infuriating interruption, Heaven's sweet, seductive bliss continued to elude the Half-Devil who strangely, secretly found himself longing for it.

Longing for the Heaven in Lady's touch…

The moments leading up to the said infernal interruption however had been torture to say the least. The maddening collision of their bodies when he crushed her against the wall nearly undid him! The girl was making his blood boil!

No damsel in distress, she! But rather a rare, refined specimen, a very aggravating specimen; brash, brazen, sassy, opinionated, wilful and rude, not his usual type at all.

Did he even have a usual type? Elegant, classy, self-possessed, polite, dignified and strong would probably fit the description of his ideal woman if he ever were to for some reason go for one. Lady…

The impertinent girl had flung the word chauvinistic in Vergil's face on more than one occasion, with or without meaning to. Hell, if he showed an imperious disposition to the world, it was only because it was true on account of his royal Devil blood, he was strong, powerful and superior. To deny he was not would mean lying to himself and to the rest of the world. Vergil had proven his physical, mental and emotional superiority numerous times, and he needed no approval from the inferior race.

Certainly not from her!

He hardly ever thought about the fairer sex except as a means to an end when it suited him, even then Vergil had exceedingly limited patience with females. Females were an inexplicable enigma, but more so than that they were bothersome obstacles; overemotional, clingy, fretful, easily frightened or seduced into submission.

In truth, Vergil had great regard for the female sex, but not for those who were disrespectful and discourteous. Especially not for those who, for some imbecilic reason thought they could dominate and manipulate him, either with tears or with guns.

It didn't make sense; his lingering attraction and powerful desire did not make any infernal sense!

Vergil told himself it was the culmination of adrenaline that pumped through his body like a potent drug from being so close to death all the time, coupled with the blatant lack of physical intimacy with a woman for so long that made him so acutely aware of every single nuance about Lady's strong and bewitching physicality, and respond to it with all his body, all the damn way, all the damn time.

Even a Half-Devil unfortunately could not deny his male body's longing for a physical release and satisfaction besides that of fighting and killing could ever bring.

The fact that he was thinking and reacting like a common male with common male lusts ticked him off more than anything when he realized he was making all sorts of excuses to touch her.

He had just realized his fingers had tangled in her silky raven's wing hair, holding her head back so she could stare into his face.

He could not stop thinking about her, wanting her.

Vergil's thoughts took on a furious edge. How dare she make him feel this way! How dare she push him so close to losing his steel-and-ice-hard control?

How dare she invade his thoughts and penetrate his legendary apathy?

How dare she entice his appetite for something he thought he didn't need, and stoke the deadened embers of his passion for myriad bothersome, pathetic and trivial aspects human life; like laughter and companionship.

Like reading his favourite book and sipping his favourite wine.

Like lying in the cool park grass and watching the balmy wind rustle through the trees and moon slide across the sky with Lady nestled close into his body, her soft hand linked with his, her ebony head resting on his shoulder…

Vergil studied her briefly with a new sense of breathless revelation; maybe he should just kill her right here, right now and save himself a major headache later on.

Before carrying out his cold blooded decision, Vergil gave her one last survey.


Lady was striking, vibrant and very lovely, pulsing with yet there was a certain tinge of delicate fragility beneath that solid aura of mental and emotional armour.

Her eyes were her most extraordinary feature nevertheless; a very bright and pure brown-amber and spring sky-blue, forthright with sincerity and insatiable curiosity, untainted by the shadows of lies and deception. Those eyes were remarkably lovely, long ebony-lashed and shimmering with lighter flecks like a dusting of gold glitter caught in a piece of lambent amber and electric blue. Her clear gaze was inquisitive, her eyes spoke too much as did her pouting lips; reflecting her entire soul, of unsullied innocence still present; a peculiar phenomena in an adult female.

Vergil felt his own body reluctantly, but instinctively harden with peculiar yearning that had long remained dormant, muscles clench in tension, and his hands clutch tighter at her lower back. What would it be like to possess her receptive softness and gentle warmth? No, he chided himself sternly; such notions were out of the question. It was not only his obsession with ascension to his rightful throne of power that prevented Vergil from indulging in such fancies, but Lady's weaker, inferior blood. Even so, his body did not seem to find her nearness off-putting at all. What bothered him the most was not his body's reaction, but a deeper, more intense bond beyond the physicality that drew him to her.

No, do not even go there at all…

She was still watching him with those extraordinarily bright and large blue-brown eyes of hers. Her milk-and-lily skin glowed with a rose-pink flush all over, sensually accentuating her delicate cheekbones, and the smooth skin exposed by the open collar of her clinging shirt which sensuously moulded to her tight and slender frame. Particularly to her high, full breasts. Vergil clenched his teeth tighter, compressing his lips to a feral line as he continued his masculine appraisal of her. His turbulent and intense blue gaze however had to be regretfully diverted from that siren-call of her chest area, or Vergil was certain he would expire from spontaneous combustion. His half-gauntleted fingers dug sharply into his fists, drawing blood, but Vergil brushed aside the brief, feather-soft flicker of pain, which was completely insignificant in comparison with the agony of his agitation, self-disgust and damnable lust for the girl.

He forced himself to be more fastidious, his impeccable sense of aesthetic to highlight the human flaws and unsightliness in her.

Frankly, her coral lips appeared too round and too full for her face, her eyes too large, but they gave her an endearing, pixie-like appeal. Her features were not kittenishly formed, but were highly expressive, prone to imminent animation, ready to bloom into an impish smile or twist into an irate frown.

No, that's not what he meant by being nitpicky!

Paradoxically, he was caught in his own damnable quandary; dispatching her seemed like the easiest and most sensible thing to do, but doing so would diminish and snuff something inside him. Probably the last remnants of his human half and conscience.

His soul.


With reluctance, Vergil cut his attention back to her heart-shaped, delicate-boned face.

Her full and round lips were the very definition of a red candy apple, parted slightly and glistening as she licked them with a self-conscious little frown. As he looked at her quite openly, blatantly checking her out, her pupils dilated, shadowing her bi-coloured irises. Vergil could practically hear her heartbeat picking up in nervous cadence, thrumming with an emotion that obviously embarrassed her.

Vergil was aware of the smallest details that made up the piquantly heart-shaped face, the slightest nuances that flickered in her expression. He suddenly wanted to get closer and inspect her like an enthusiastic butterfly collector who had just caught a particularly rare and exquisite specimen in his net.

At that moment, she chose to avert those wonderfully unique and lovely eyes, shyly duck her head and look away in anger, chewing on her bottom lip. The gesture aroused his curiosity, and Vergil immediately did what just came to him naturally. He captured her chin in his fingers and turned her face to his gradually so as not to alarm and agitate her.

Aroused, was the word indeed for him, he thought wryly. That slow turn of her head and the shy, wary excitement that glittered in her eyes and made her soft mouth part on a tremble ever so slightly like that was so intensely erotic that Vergil realized he was breathing heavily, his body hardening so fast it was beginning to ache like it had never ached for anyone so strongly before.

He had not felt such an instant reaction before in his life, ever, with any female, foe or otherwise. The exquisite blue-brown butterfly fluttered frantically beneath the glass lens, desperately fighting against captivity, refusing to give in, defiant and proud like a queen. Vergil felt a savage, utterly devilish satisfaction in distressing such a precious and beautiful creature, his blood alight with the urge to tear her bravado and pride asunder, forcing her on her knees in front of him in humble acknowledgement of his regal, mental and physical superiority.

Why then, was he continuously bothered by a nagging, imbecilic need to cherish and protect her?

Contradicting emotions churned in his very soul, perplexing him even. He who had never been afraid of anything in life was suddenly afraid of his own feelings, afraid of hurting her.

And I was so ready to bury Yamato deep into her heart, watch her choke on her lifeblood.

Was there anyway for the obsessed collector to make his dazzlingly lovely butterfly trust him not to hurt her?

Vergil told himself as a superior, powerful entity on the brink of godhead he had every right to hurt, manipulate and misuse a lesser being's feelings like a puppeteer on the verge of a new discovery with a brand new marionette.

No, he shook his head grimly; to do so would reduce him to the level of the animal, diabolical lot he zealously eliminated on the path to glory. But oh, such vicious, vile thrill the very notion induced in him like exquisite, forbidden ambrosia. What sweet satisfaction her seduction promised and Lady was the unknowing catalyst for that unrighteous urge!

Better to put her down now before he caused her any further indignity. Human or no, she had earned that right.

His body did not seem to obey that particular line of thought however, worsening his saturnine mood.

Lady, despite all her reckless bravado, strength and willpower she was ripe for his seduction, unwittingly offering herself up to the altar of his nefarious desires.

His face hovered over hers, a bittersweet invasion of senses and a closeness felt with each beating of heart that became a restless, anxious drum. Vergil, with his supernaturally acute Devil hearing, could hear Lady's fluttering heartbeat quickening with the slow tilt of his brow down to hers. Anticipation uncoiled, seized and demanded, building up with each excruciatingly passing moment. Eyes were locked, breaths unfurling warmly, hair standing on end and skin sparkling rosily with newfound desire from the tortuous proximity of bodies longing to fuse in a paroxysm of passion. Vergil's mouth lowered to trace a blazing path across hers, to imprint his ruthless vengeance on her very flesh…

No matter what happens, she must not be alerted to his true intention…


Lady's lips parted and sought Vergil's in stunned silence, mistaking his cold, devious intent for mutual ardour. He had caught her crying, but he did not ridicule her. Maybe the azure Half-Devil was learning to accept his human half for a change. Drawing confidence from that small crumb of awareness, Lady leaned closer into him. It was more than pure instinct that guided her. Her lips parted in uncharacteristic obedience as Vergil bent over her, so close…closer...

Lady's whole world had just gone off its axis, tipping her common sense over the edge into oblivion. A legion of sensations whirled through her, setting alight her nerve endings with promises of the very wild pleasure she had only glimpsed in dreams and in sweeping, torrid sagas.

Vergil was going to kiss her!

This powerful, heart-shatteringly handsome Half-Devil she was sworn to hate forever was going to give Lady her first taste of lover's kiss!

Lady could not detach herself from Vergil even if she wanted to; he had pinned her too tightly, too thoroughly against him.

She gave out a soft, inaudible breath as she felt him grow even more solid and hard against her when he slid his beige leather-gloved hand over her nape, angling her head for his kiss, his whole body poised like a steel lance, breathtakingly, heavily pronounced, sculpted on a dauntingly mighty scale, ready to impale and plunder.

Lady's entire being plunged into a sweet turmoil of unknown sensations, a hot, hidden spring within her was set loose, flowed into her lower body and coiled there, suffusing her every inch of her skin with a warm flush, her wanton need like a merciless battalion tearing down the ramparts of her common sense.

All she wanted in that instant was to be dominated by Vergil; to yield to his cruel affection and in turn be set wholly free by his complete possession. She needed Vergil against her, towering over her nakedness, between the cradle of her thighs, pounding inside her deepest core, running her through on his violent lust until the Elysian ecstasy was theirs…

NO!!! Snap out of it!!! If I go through with this now, I will never be able to defeat him!

For his is the path of Devils, and I cannot walk that path with him.

But I cannot let him go all by himself either!

Oh God…

But, what if I was to pretend to kiss him and catch him off guard, and finish him off that way? If I wriggle this way a little more, I can reach for my hunting knife, and stab it into his heart. When he's down and disoriented, I will take him out with Kalina Ann if he shapeshifts into his Devil form.

All settled then.

Onwards, Lady, before I lose my nerve.

But I need at least a minute to adjust myself to the idea of slaying him in cold blood.

And kissing him.

I have to focus, and distract him somehow….And who's the best personification of all distractions in the world?

"What is wrong with Dante? I am surprised you haven't made short work of him yet, given your animosity towards each other. Or have you lost your nerve yet again, Vergil?" She asked with a slow, grave smile.


"Why is it that I find myself endlessly vexed and harassed by your tedious inquiries about my brother's wellbeing at every turn? If am to believe that you are so pathetically desirous of his company over mine, then could you please kindly care to explain why you insist on teasing me?"

While his resonant voice abruptly awoke and stimulated all her senses in a sudden torrent of pleasure she continually tried to hide from him, his words made no sense at all to Lady.

She was teasing him? Get real!

The voice didn't shock Lady as much as the imposingly tall and broad Half-Devil's face submerged in the artificial light when he forced her back til she had to grab onto his shoulders to steady herself or fall.

Her legs parted to make room for his tall, steel-strong body as he boldly stepped between them in order to crush her tighter into his chest and his thighs.

Oh Lord…

Her words dissolved into a sudden gasp when she found herself in the most compromising position.

It nearly killed her, being the target of the fierce, yet deceptively serene gaze of an entity so magnificent and resplendent in male beauty that no human effort could even come close to sufficiently describing his deific grandeur or the exquisite palette of his lustrous royal-blue eyes and his brilliant silver-gilded pale hair stylishly slicked back from his broad forehead.

It was equally impossible to escape the trance of his dark dominance and quietly aggressive and forceful presence that stunned Lady with an overload of ecstasy and deep elation. The half-whispered, venerated accounts of the higher rank Devil Lords' impossibly strong, stunningly handsome, tall and assertive presence could not do justice to the ultimate perfection before her eyes.

And between her legs.

"You scum of the earth! You're deranged, you know that?"

Hotter than Inferno, that's what she was. Vergil could not believe he forced them both into this compromising position.

But the impulse to possess her in ways that would paralyse a human's mind was all he could think of, preventing him from untangling himself from her.

"Do you think by teasing and seducing me you can avert me from my true path?" He lowered his mouth to her ear, then over to her neck, grazing his sharp teeth slowly over her soft skin.

He heard her throaty, husky moan, felt her knees instinctively lift and her silken slender legs wrap around his waist.

Vergil's eyes suddenly narrowed to hard, accusing Arctic blue slits even as his lips and bared teeth lingered on the corner of her mouth. "If that is the case, you might want to consider applying a little more enthusiasm into your frigid efforts."


Thought-tangled and tongue tied, Lady could not believe how easily she had set herself up for that one.

The nerve!!! Lady fumed; how dare the Devil swine accuse her of seducing him in order to stop him from following his diabolic ambitions!!! The bastard was toxic for her temper, but vital for her existence.

If the shockingly intimate position was not debilitating enough, her body tensed up with uncontrollable little shivers that made her rub against him. Her nipples tautened painfully through her white bra and shirt.

In response to her chaotic, sexual curiosity, Vergil shot a hand to her chest and cupped a firm, aching breast, all the while holding her gaze with his restraining, mesmerizing hellfire blue one, his face maintaining its poker expression except for the barest twitch of his upper lip faintly curling in a sadistic snarl.

What was happening?! She was rapidly losing the will to move, to retaliate, to think as she clung to the Devil-man she was sworn to loathe and sworn to kill. His cool ice-blue male scent, his musky warmth, his masterful, possessive touch pulsed all around her and lured her as a predator's scent lures prey.

"Frankly, you will be whatever I say you are, for your pathetic kind exists to serve me, please me and pleasure me." Vergil's deep voice dipped lower, darker and huskier with each word.

"Fuck you!!!" Lady grated furiously, panting harshly, nearly sinking her nails into his shoulder through her own black glove and his blue leather trench, entwining the fingers of her free hand into his brilliant silver hair.

"What was that, my little slave? Speak up, woman!" Vergil growled sexily into her ear, his hands leaving her breast to snake around her narrow waist, his muscle-steeled thighs parting her legs even wider.

Lady was about to say something, but her words melted away when Vergil's voice excited her beyond anything, and she whimpered –whimpered!-, feeling tears prickle her eyes with her need.

Suddenly, Vergil's probing tongue and lips were gliding with a sinuous grace over her neck. Lady responded with a slight backward tilt of her neck and semi-closing her jet lashes, letting Vergil move his lips in an upward stroke of damp kisses, lingering on her chin, and the corner of her mouth finally.

"I am not your slave!!! I'll put you to death yet, you abominable, conceited fuckwit!!!"


Enough was enough!

All words and all thoughts melted into insignificance, and there was only the deep awareness of their instant, inexplicable physical bond. Vergil was taken aback by the soul binding intensity of his need for Lady even beyond the physical proximity, and even though he should not. But his embrace now was enslavement before the execution, a one final wish, a reflection of his addiction for her nearness.

As though in the world of humans as potential mates, she was the only female who could make him feel like a true king, the only creature who could provide him with absolute spiritual and physical fulfilment and completion.

Lady was a siren-like provocation to all his senses, and what Vergil did next was an instinct that overrode all hesitation and erased all coherent reason. It was, he realized, also something he had been desperately wanting to do since he'd ever set eyes on her.

Even as the thick blackness of the shadows in the room intensified to abyssal density and extended like the tentacles of a great stygian monster about them all, Vergil could only think of showing her the meaning of true Devil passion.

It was now or never.

"If you are not my slave and I not your master, then why are you trembling in my arms and clinging to me with all you have got, obediently awaiting my kiss?

Vergil didn't bother to wait for her reply.

He simply crashed her against the wall, roughly sank his fingers into her short, silky ebony hair, and cruelly pulled her head back with a single jerk, and hotly, brutally crushed her mouth with sealing, punishing kiss.


Oh God…I just died and awoke in Heaven…

Lady was sinking and soaring at the same time. She was plunging fast, spiralling headlong into an abyss of dark, opulent, wild sensuality and euphoria, riding the hot rush of an adrenalin overload the instant Vergil pressed his lips to hers with a powerful aggression. Her body shook with wild cataclysmic tremors as it first rejected him with her fists struck out blindly for a brief, evanescent moment, then clung to the powerfully strong expanse of his broad shoulders in surrender as he increased the merciless pressure of his lips on hers, hungrily plundering, firmly tasting, completely possessing.

Completely unprepared, not knowing how to respond to a first kiss initiated by a stunningly magnificent male of the both human and devil species, Lady was unable to react for a few seconds except close her eyes, her body rendered frozen by the unreal situation. But Vergil was massaging over the nape of her neck with slow, confident fingers, his sculpted mouth coaxing her stiff lips open with amazing gentleness. His lips were so tender, but so insistent on hers, rich with a male aroma akin to cinnamon and pomegranates, dark bitter chocolate melted over with black cherry sauce and decadent caramel.

He was a Devil for Heaven's sake, not Devil's Food!

To hell with her vengeance, she needed this more than she ever needed anything.

Lady closed her eyes and opened her mouth to his to absorb more of his divine taste.

She felt like a soul who had wandered without any real aim or purpose and avoided any so called male temptation for sixteen years suddenly finding the plentiful, majestic, lush and secret Garden of Eden. It was like overindulging on every possible decadence even though it was only a meagre fraction of what could happen between them, a melting, voluptuous, gorgeous sensation that cascaded over her like molten honey; sweet, sticky and stimulating.

That's how Lady would always remember her first kiss.

She made a soft sound of appreciative whimper in her throat, and Vergil pulled back so suddenly that Lady collapsed like a rag doll and tumbled to the floor on her knees, leaving her stunned, speechless and completely, utterly turned on.


What just happened, Vergil asked himself with a livid frown.

What the hell had he just done? Kissing Lady had felt so good, so right that he wanted to do it again. He wanted to do so much more.

Her delicate but potent taste of spicy vanilla and cream-drizzled strawberries still tingled on his tongue, making him acutely more frustrated and obsessed by the second. It was a taste he could get addicted to, one that induced the most severe cravings. Vergil would gladly suffer the pangs of these infernal cravings if only he could be assured that the object of his addiction felt the same for him; he wanted her responsive, eager and willing too.

What for Vergil? You were going to execute her, remember?

What a wretched fool I've been on more than account; not only I've momentarily strayed from my true objective, I have also misinterpreted her anger and hatred for suppressed infatuation and sexual attraction.

Her body may want mine deep inside her, but even deeper inside she truly despises me, hates me.

I would rather die a thousand deaths at Mundus's hand than take her in hatred.

Vergil raked his fingers through his mussed moon-silver hair, flattening the thick, smooth strands dishevelled by Lady's fervour.

Unfortunately he could see that he was overwhelming her. Pity, he thought with cynical amusement, he had thought she was stronger than this. If one kiss had the power to incapacitate her to speechlessness, then how would she handle his full, unbridled Devil Passion once he got her naked and writhing under him?

Angrily remembering her complete bafflement and discomfiture, he held himself back this time. The rejection nearly unravelled him. He had registered shock in her beautiful bi-shaded eyes, sensed the tremor of unease in her soft body, felt her small moan of terror and protest flow through her mouth straight into his.

It was then he had found enough common sense to withdraw.

What were you expecting; he brooded, that she would fall straight into your arms?

Lady was not that kind of a butterfly.

They were virtually strangers with nothing in common except vengeance. She despised his guts let alone entertain thoughts of him as a potential lover.

It was the typical excuse girls always gave him once they recovered from the shock of his unearthly looks and he'd crossed the line of intimacy with them. It was one of the catalysts that made him retreat icily into himself and isolate himself from the rest of the world.

They said with worshipful adoration that he was the perfect model Caravaggio and Michelangelo would have sold their souls to paint and sculpt.

They also said he was too intense, too obsessive, too possessive, too overwhelming.

In the end, they'd said his perfect male pulchritude was not worth the hassle to put up with his intense personality and passionate, brooding nature.

Vergil had long ago given up on finding the only woman who would accommodate his dark ambitions and even darker tendencies in the boudoir.

He sternly dismissed the memories of past lovers that involuntarily resurfaced in his mind.

With an unpleasant history of a bevy of short-term girlfriends, and in pursuit of ultimate ascension to his birthright, Vergil had decided around the same time he'd left home and Dante to adopt a strict celibacy, and for a while enjoyed it too. No need to drag another unfortunate girl into his destructive orbit, he had shrugged to himself. His will was tempered to the inflexibility of icy steel, he could easily suppress his physical needs if he so chose.

He had been so convinced of his invulnerability, so confident in his ability to ignore base male urges.

So damn arrogant to think he could stand in the heart of the firestorm and ignore the flames.

Until he met her.


Her fire was vital to his entire being, but fatal too.

Lady had nothing in common with the girls in his past. There was a strangely, irresistible aura of untouched innocence to her beneath the armour of molten fire, a deeply enticing forlorn mystery behind her exquisite eyes.

I must have completely lost my senses!

They were destined to be enemies, not lovers!

What a laughable, blundering halfwit I've been to have seen something that was not there, to be guided by mere illusion.

Congratulations, Vergil, now that you've had your first taste of female rejection, you finally know what it feels like to lose.

As Dante would have said; it well and truly blows.

The tart had probably been fantasizing about his brother when he had kissed her!

His royal-blue eyes hardened with an arctic chill, his mouth, still faintly pulsing with a teasing trace of her sweet essence, thinned to a grim line.

Had he misread all the signs and misinterpreted the restlessness bubbling just beneath her beautiful ivory skin as sensual tension and attraction for him?

Vergil ground his teeth together in increasing self-contempt; he; the royal, powerful Half-Devil son of majestic Sparda had acted like a sleazy teenager coming to grips with the myriad sexual awakenings of his adolescence. Well, he was a teenager, but that was no excuse for his appalling behaviour and immaturity.

Offering no apology or explanation of any sort, Vergil leaned back against the wall and willed the erotic agitation that achingly hardened his body to go away.

He completely ignored his brother, ignored even the demoniac, stygian black silhouette of the Doppelganger that was creeping stealthily behind Dante, and stared rigidly at a blank spot on the wall, waiting for her rebuke.

As the suffocating, tenebrous darkness rose all around them, all Vergil wanted was to crush her to the wall again and kiss her senseless, lose himself in the vanilla-swirled strawberry moistness until she learned to see past her hatred, accept his Devil nature and love him back with the same fervency.

Love, Vergil?!?

I think I'd rather face Mundus than subject myself to further disgrace.

I would rather confront the hate in the eyes of Devil Emperor than hers.

I would rather have my own sword buried deep in my chest than admit to her what I am about to admit to myself.

He ground his teeth in chilling fury and frustration, dismissing his absurd thoughts.

But his heart would not be dismissed as easily.


I think I…

Vergil was dead still, shocked to the core by his own reasoning.

I have fallen…

I have fallen in love with her.


One second she had been entangled in his embrace, her legs coiled around his waist, her arm snaked demandingly around his neck.

The next he pulled away and removed his hands and his steadying touch, and severed the physical connection so fast Lady sank to the floor gracelessly, falling to her knees.

Her fingers fluttering to her throbbing lips, Lady blinked a couple of times, wondering if she did something wrong and repulsive for Vergil to disengage from her just as abruptly he had kissed her.

His kiss had stunned her, left her gaping for breath, so she just sat there. Where his magnificent lips had been a moment ago was now slick with dew, exposed to the cool air of the shadow-doused room, strangely deprived and yearning for more.

For a second, unrelieved black of the shadows subsided and gave way to an indigo haze luminously pulsing like a heartbeat around Vergil, moonlight flowing through the windows relieving the otherwise impenetrable darkness of the star-dappled heavens and that of the tower.

Vergil Sparda was radiant, luminescent against the lesser lunar light, his alabaster skin glistening softly with a magnificent, deceptively Seraphic incandescence, his slicked-back silver-platinum hair shining lustrously, his Royal-Blue eyes gleaming with Heaven's own hallowed light.

Tears sprung involuntarily in her eyes, for the sight of him caught and suspended in that amazing, miraculous moment was a benediction to her soul, purifying all doubt and pain that ever troubled her spirit.

Vergil was truly made for the night. He outshone the moon itself, and his person was brighter to Lady than that of any light. Lady licked her lips and swallowed hard.

Vergil was staring straight ahead, stonily silent and unforthcoming. She ought to say something, Lady thought, preferably something smartass to jolt him from his grim mood, anything really, to ease the major awkwardness between them, but her mind was blank. It had gone blank from the first moment his lips had touched hers.

Lady acknowledged this was one of those moments where you could go in either direction and suffer spectacular consequences no matter what. She had to choose quickly. Okay, so she was completely inexperienced, and probably it was her obvious inexperience that put him off, or maybe he was just being a gentleman.

Yeah right!!!

But…why not? Hasn't he treated me with gentlemanly nobility all along, and saved my life into the bargain? I just had my first kiss and I klutzed it up.

Well done, Lady…

Did he regret the kiss?

Tough! Lady thought, he had started it! And she would finish it.

If he found her clumsy advances repulsive and unwelcome, he would definitely let her know, oh yes, Vergil was that kind of guy. Maybe he had already let her know and she was too embroiled in his seductive, burning ice to see past her delusions.

She had to cross the threshold and step –no, jump blindly- willingly into the abyss of his overwhelming, larger than life layers of personality and pull him back from the underworld of his black melancholy and wrench him back to safety.

He is not evil, really, just an overambitious, ruthless, merciless, and cold-blooded Half-Devil. 'Half' being the operative word.

He was also half-human, which shone through with aching tenderness at the oddest, most unexpected times.

Do I kill him now or do I harangue him for doing what he did?

Suddenly, the solution was crystal-clear. Lady was not known to have ever backed down from a challenge!

However, swallowing her pride was a first.

Lady decided to seize the opportunity of his distraction regardless of the looming unpleasant, irreversible consequences.

Lady made up her mind to act now, and repent later. She did not even hear or see Dante awakening from his coma and struggling to his feet, cursing and unsheathing Rebellion.

Now or never, Lady…This has to be done.

Taking a deep, fortifying breath, she rose to her feet and advanced on Vergil with grim determination while the world around them spun into an opaque web of stygian darkness by the Doppelganger's black magic.


Vergil sighed inwardly at Dante's insistence for firearms, reaching for his trusted Yamato at his side and preparing to charge into the fray as the Doppelganger detached itself from the nebulous core of the shadows. It wasn't like he had anything better to do anyway. Even the thrill of battle did not alleviate his dark brooding, and Vergil constantly found himself thinking about the weakness he had just displayed to the girl who jumped back to her feet where he'd left her.

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw her walk toward him like a beautiful, terrible, avenging angel...a faery queen from a long forgotten verse...

….Le Belle Dame Sans Merci…

'Ah, what can ail thee, wretched wight,
Alone and palely loitering…?'

He had to stop thinking right now.

Thinking about the warmth and sweetness of her mouth…

Thinking about what her slender, lithe legs coiled about his waist…

Damn it man, get a hold of yourself!

His head automatically whipped towards her when he saw her reaching for him.

Vergil had resigned himself to the worst possible outcome, grimly anticipating Lady to shove her guns in his face. Maybe she would slap him or pretend the kiss had never happened.

It doesn't matter.

It is time.


He had certainly not been expecting this!

Vergil inhaled swiftly and sharply as Lady grabbed the lapels of his blue leather trench coat, raised herself on tiptoes and bring her lips to his in a crushing kiss.

He had expected her blazing fury in the form of another slap or her Kalina Ann's cold sharp kiss instead in his face.

Vergil was not expecting Lady to actually reach out of her own accord and kiss him back! Her hand was so gentle and cool on his burning cheek, her lips so soft and so full, grinding into his with the kind of shy urgency and frantic eagerness to make up for the obvious inexperience.

Vergil had known instantly that Lady had never kissed a man before, and the knowledge set his blood on fire with feelings of tenderness, protectiveness, possession and male satisfaction.

Surprise and victory soared through Vergil, Lady was so responsive and so enthusiastic contrary to his earlier assumption that she forgot how to breathe.

He had been wrong in his assumption that she didn't want him. His paranoia had been working overtime as Dante would have smugly pointed out if he were privy to his thoughts.

It wouldn't be the first time he thought wryly. Determined to make the experience of her first kiss –no, make that her second kiss- unforgettable and wondrous, Vergil gathered all his expertise and projected all his searing desire for her into her lips…

Vergil pushed her against the wall once again and mercilessly coaxed her lips apart, sliding his warm, unrelenting tongue into her soft mouth. Breaths and tongues intertwined passionately, hers unsurely at first, then with increasing confidence at his urging, tasting him back with her lips and teeth and tongue and needing more of him in every way she could receive him.

I will not let her walk away from here and forget me.

I will physically brand her with my essence, imprint her with my Devil ardour so that she can never forget.

'And that is why I sojourn here,
Alone and palely loitering...'


"Oy, can you two stop sucking face for a second? We've got a tiny little problem here!"

Dante yelled across the room, blasting the Doppelganger into the abyss that spawned it. He had to close his eyes against the sight of Lady kissing his brother.

Vergil wasn't kissing her, she was kissing him!

Him, damnit!!!

Dante frowned, panting heavily since he'd reverted back to his human form. The demons he had to put down on the way up to the tower's zenith were getting stronger and tougher, but the deed was done. The demonic loser had been owned, as was expected from a crimson Half-Devil hunter extraordinaire such as he.

The Doppleganger melted into the nebulous black.

A sucking sound filled the room.

What in bloody hell???

Pure, molten darkness oozed and loomed out of the very walls, and whipped toward Vergil and Lady. Dante cocked Ivory in one hand and balanced Rebellion's hilt in the other, but he couldn't get to Vergil and Lady in time when the suction increased and began to shake the walls and the floor, and Dante momentarily lost his balance.



Vergil did not need his brother's noisy warning to dodge the black tentacles shooting toward him and Lady.

He should have known better than to leave the Doppelganger to Dante, the thing was as persistent as the Sin Scythe, but stronger, more dangerous, and more unpredictable.

He saw the cause of the resonant sucking sound, the doppelganger's last resort. It had opened a rift in the black fabric of the shadows that led straight into Hell. If Vergil did not stop it, all of them would be swallowed up and end up in a Hell within a matter of seconds.

But isn't that what I want anyway?

No, she would never survive it.

And I cannot abandon her to it.

Assuming the offensive, Vergil removed Yamato from its sheath in one single jerk and stepped between Lady the razor-jagged tentacles, shoving her out of the way towards safety, where Dante prepared to charge as well, but then resumed the defensive and caught Lady in his arms.

That single moment's momentous delay where he'd thrust Lady out of the Doppelganger's path sealed Vergil's fate.

Vergil had known it too.

And hadn't cared.

'I met a lady in the meads,
Full beautiful, a faery's child:'



Lady had little time to gather her wits and react to the pandemonium around her.

One moment she had been standing in Vergil's strong, protective arms, drugged by his Devil's kiss, and the next she was hurled across the room by the said strong arms.

She scrambled to her feet, fully determined to give Vergil a taste of his own offensive.

Then she saw it.

The shadows were alive, they grew in intensity until they transformed into a seething black hole swirling in the centre of the room, noisily sucking everything into its pitch black core, grotesque arms shooting up out of its inky nucleus in order to seize and sweep all.

In horrid, petrified disbelief, Lady saw Yamato being wrenched from Vergil's hands and the Half-Devil forcefully being slammed to the walls. The black arms constricted around him and drew him into their jet black maw where murky glimpses of Hell flashed and flickered.

Vergil had saved her again.

He shielded her with his body.

The groggy blue Half-Devil tumbled over the edge.

I will not surrender him to Hell, I will not!

"VERGIL!" Lady cried, plunging herself bodily into the chasm after the Azure Half-Devil.

Lady did as her instincts directed, she leapt forward and grabbed Vergil's sleeve before the Half-Devil plummeted into the depthless stygian black abyss roiling with flames of shadows below.

Vergil's strongly muscular body was quite heavy for her however, and Lady hung onto him with all her strength, gritting her teeth against the strain as she began to slip...

"LADY!" Dante yelled in horror and dashed after the demon huntress to grab hold of her just as she went over the edge.

"I've got you, Lady! Hold onto my hand! Don't let go, sweetheart!" Dante dug his fingers into Lady's hand, grabbing her just in time.

Blast it! Dante thought in frustration; his devil energy had been all used up in the earlier fight with the Doppelganger. Flexing his muscles, he strained to lift both Lady and his brother up over the edge and haul them to safety. From his point where he teetered over the edge with Lady and Vergil both, Dante could see all the way into the burning depths of the Infernal underworld at the black hole's core, flaring up like a Black sun and blinding him momentarily.

The hole became larger, and the suction intensified. Lady's hand was slipping steadily from his sweat laced hands...But her other hand was clutching Vergil's in a wise-tight hold, refusing to relinquish him to the Pandemonium he so craved to be a part of. She had risked death for his sake and not once hesitated.


Questions would have to wait. Dante braced one arm on the ground as the whole colossal tower began to shake, the tremors shuddering through the walls, and his body.

"Sweetheart, you have to let him go! I cannot pull both of you back up, you have to let go of Vergil! He'll be allright, I promise!" Dante shouted over the din of the deafening suction noise that filled the room and began to shatter the walls.

But Dante could not hear Lady's answering shout in the deafening roar as she slipped from his grasp and let go of his hand willingly, being sucked with Vergil into the black brilliance of the at once luminous and murky Hell until they were no more than white and blue specks at its centre, vanishing out of sight.

Dante cursed mightily and jumped into the black portal after them, praying earnestly for the first time for a miracle.

She took me to her elfin grot,
And there she gazed and sighed deep,
And there I shut her wild, sad eyes---
So kissed to sleep.

And there we slumbered on the moss,
And there I dreamed, ah! woe betide,
The latest dream I ever dreamed
On the cold hill side.

-From La Belle Dame Sans Merci, John Keats

I hope to catch you all next chapter. Please review, and thank you so much for reading!