Hellsing Fan Fiction / Witch Hunter Robin Fan Fiction ❯ Fire in the Blood ❯ Shall we dance? ( Chapter 2 )

The helicopter soared over the rainforest, ruffling the leaves as they passed.

The co-pilot turned around and glanced back at their sole passenger, a thin, dark-haired woman in a black suit. She was sitting on a wooden coffin and had an enormous musket lying across her lap.

"What is that you are singing, First Lieutenant?" the co-pilot asked.

The dark-haired woman looked up and smiled. She pushed glasses up the bridge of her nose. "It's part of an opera," she said. "The Sharpshooter. It's about a hunter, Kaspar, who makes a deal with the demon of the hunt, Samiel. He gave her magic bullets that she can control, but she turns on Samiel and tries to hunt him. This proves… fatal."

"If thou wouldst dress as the dead and dance with them, thou will join their ranks," the pilot said.

Rip smiled, showing her fangs. "Exactly. Where did you hear that?"

"The Major mentioned it once. In passing. I'm not sure what he meant by it."

Rip raised an eyebrow, then went back to polishing her rifle.

***

A man in a white suit stood at the edge of a helicopter pad and stared up as the helicopter slowly lowered to the ground. He reached up and grabbed his hat as the windblast blew his jacket back. The dark-haired woman leapt out of the helicopter before it touched the ground, musket leaning on her shoulder.

She started to walk towards the man in the white suit. "Tublicain Alhambra-" she began, but Alhambra held up a hand. Her removed his hat, placed it over his heart, and bowed.

"Please, Lieutenant Van Winkle, those who know me best call me The Dandy." He flicked his hand and a card appeared. The Queen of Hearts. The dark-haired woman smiled and accepted it.

Alhambra straightened up and replaced his hat on his head. He grinned, showing a pair of frighteningly large canines. "Now, to what honor do I owe the pleasure of a visit from Rip Van Winkle?"

Rip said nothing and handed an envelope to him. He popped open the swastika seal on the back and read the later. He grinned again. "Good. Veeeeeerrrrrrry good. We finally move on the Hunter and the Firestarter." Comprehension flashed over his face. "So that's why you're here."

Rip nodded. She unshouldered her gun and pointed it at Alhambra's face. Alhambra stared down the barrel of the gun and grinned.

"Exactly," Rip said. "Who better to catch the Hunter than the Huntress?"

***

Chapter 2- "Shall we Dance?"

***

Seras straightened her jacket and ran a gloved hand through her hair. She sighed. When she was a little girl, she had, for a time, entertained dreams of going to huge social events like this. In those dreams, however, she had worn a beautiful gown, not a military dress uniform.

She stared at a mirror she had brought into her room, mostly for decorative purposes. "I wish I could see how I look."

"Tres magnifique."

Seras spun around to see Pip leaning against the doorway. Seras grimaced. When they had first met, he had hit on her, and since then, he had been constantly teasing her. As much he got on her nerves, on some deep level she had to admit that he did look good in a tux.

Pip grinned and raised his left hand, revealing a bouquet of yellow roses. He straightened up and approached Seras, holding the flowers out in front of him.

"What are these for?" Seras asked suspiciously.

"Well, I am your escort."

Seras' eyes widened. "Y-you're my escort? A sleaze like you is escorting me? Why can't I just go unescorted?"

"A pretty young girl? At a party like this? I'm told that would just look horrible."

Seras took the flowers and sighed. "And I suppose going with my Master is out of the question."

"I'm not your master any more, Police Girl. Now that you've drunk my blood, you walk the night of your own will."

Alucard stepped out of the shadows. His normal red trench coat was gone, replaced with a long black, formal coat. His red cravat was gone as well, a black and white tie with a disturbing eye pattern in its place.

The hat was nowhere to be seen.

"And no, I cannot be your escort. I am accompanying Sir Integra, following her execution."

"Umm… Mas- Alucard, sir?"

"Yes, Police Girl?"

"That tie… it's hideous."

Walter stepped into the room, dressed in a white tie and tails. "Are we all ready?" He noticed the flowers Seras was holding. "Ah, yellow roses? For dying love, I believe?"

Pip blinked. "…Are they? I just thought they looked pretty."

"Indeed for dying love. Come on now, the limo's waiting outside."

As they left, Seras stared down at the flowers. Dying love? Love that is dying? Love for a dead one? Love… from one who will die?

***

"I'll take three," Heinkel said, throwing the cards down on the table next to her sunglasses.

Yumiko nodded and gave her three cards. She pushed her glasses up her nose. "Why don't you ever want to play with Yumie?" she asked.

"Because your other half takes losing very badly," Heinkel said. "Last time I tried to play cards with her, we ended up having to pay for the table."

Loud footsteps ringing through the hall distracted the two from their card game. With a grace gained from years of fighting, Heinkel produced a Desert Eagle from out of nowhere. Yumiko glanced nervously at the sword lying next to her.

Heinkel looked up at Yumiko. "Sorry," she whispered.

The door burst open and a giant figure stepped in. Before Heinkel and Yumiko could react, the figure rushed in and pulled them both into a bear hug, squeezing them with superhuman strength.

"You're home! It's great the see the two of you! How are my favorite nuns?"

While being shaken by Father Anderson, Yumiko's glasses fell off. Her features shifted, became harsher, her eyes wilder, as Yumiko went to sleep and Yumie took over. This didn't really change anything, as Father still had them in his death grip bear hug.

Heinkel slapped Anderson's arm frantically. He turned his head towards her. "Aye?"

The shorthaired Austrian pointed at her throat. "Air!" she finally managed to gasp.

Anderson gently put the two of them down. They leaned against the table, breathing deeply and trying to open up their airways.

Once Yumie had regained the ability to speak, she turned to Heinkel. "Can I go back to sleep? I'm still tired from getting that bishop."

Heinkel nodded, and Yumie slipped the glasses back on, reverting to Yumiko.

Anderson surveyed the small armory in front of him. "Paranoid about something?"

Heinkel jerked her head behind her. "Father Maxwell's orders. We have to guard this bishop. Maxwell actually seems to think someone might try and kill him even while he's here."

Anderson raised an eyebrow. "He did, did he?" He pulled up a chair and sat down at the table. "Deal me in."

"Shouldn't you be watching the orphans?" Yumiko asked as she shuffled the cards.

Anderson chuckled. "They're up at Rome for a football match. The nuns have decided that my behavior at football matches sets a less than wonderful example for the children."

***

"Hold the elevator!"

Sakaki reached a hand out and grabbed the elevator door.

A young woman ran into the elevator, breathing heavily. "Thanks."

"You're welcome, Yukina." Sakaki replied in Japanese.

Dojima Yukina looked up to see Sakaki Haruto grinning down at her.

Sakaki suddenly found himself tackled against the elevator wall, Dojima's arms constricted around him in a rib-crushing hug.

"I've missed you guys! I thought I wouldn't get to see you until my transfer request was processed!!"

Sakaki managed to extricate himself from her hug. "Whoa, transfer request? You're done playing Solomon super-spy?"

Dojima leaned against the elevator wall and crossed her arms. "Honestly? I was much happier at the STN-J."

"You're just saying that because you didn't have to work," Sakaki said, pressing the button for the lobby.

Dojima stuck her tongue out at him. "Are Michael and Miss Karasuma here as well?"

Sakaki stuck his hands in his pockets. "Yeah. We're here for some ball, or ceremony or something."

"Ahh, hence the outfit. Looks pretty good on you, you should try dressing nicely more often. But…"

"…But what?"

Dojima began to root through her purse.

***

Karasuma tapped her foot impatiently and looked at her watch. "Where is that kid?"

"Probably had trouble with his tux," Michael said, his nose in a computer magazine. "Do you have any idea how hard it is to put one of these things on?"

The elevator dinged and the doors slowly slid open. Dojima had pinned Sakaki against the wall and was trying to run a brush through his messy hair.

Michael and Karasuma stared at them in silence for a short while.

"… And somehow, that seems just about right." Michael said.

***

The last tour group in Vatican City wandered through the halls of a church, marveling at the architecture.

The tour guide, a man with long white hair and an oddly cut dark coat stood in front of a glass case and faced the group.

"Now, these swords were used in the Crusades during the eleventh century, by some of the most famous knight companies. Does anyone know what knight company had the greatest victory record in that century? This shouldn't be too hard, they were quite famous."

A man in a black, many-pocketed vest raised a hand. The hand was covered in a strange glove, with chains emerging from the back of the hand to bind a jewel embedded in the palm.

The tour guide pointed at him. "Yes, Dr. Miguel Cronquist?"

"That would be the company led by Matthias Cronqvist and Leon Belmont."

"Very good. I would expect no less of you, given your family name. Now, what led to the fall of said company?"

"Matthias, heart-broken at the loss of his wife, turned his back on God, betrayed Leon, and became a demon who stalked the night for the rest of time."

The voice that responded had a distinct twang to it. A twang that spoke of deltas, swamps, and voodoo.

"Tsk, tsk. Miss Reinfield, you really must learn to raise your hand."

The girl bowed her had. "Sorry, Joachim."

The tour guide cleared his throat. The girl blushed slightly. "Sorry, Mr. Armster."

Armster nodded curtly and turned his attention to the large priest who was approaching him.

"I'm sorry sir, but you will all have to come back tomorrow. We're closed to the general public now."

"Oh, I am sorry," Armster replied. He reached into his pockets. "But I'm afraid we'll have to have extended hours for this tour."

There was a loud crash as the swords in the case burst through the glass and flew towards the priest.

The priest grunted as he was impaled through the chest. As he crumpled to the floor, the swords slid out of his body and began to hover around Armster, who slowly levitated into the air.

To the left of the group, four guards reached for their guns, while on the right a group of priests and nuns began running for help.

"Miguel! Cynthia!"

Dr. Cronquist turned to the right, reached into one of his coat pockets and threw his arm out. Blue crystals flew from his black-gloved hand and adhered to the fleeing clergy. The crystals melted and spread outwards, engulfing the group and freezing them in place.

On the other side, Cynthia had turned towards the guards. Grinning madly as a powerful wind built up around her, whipping her hair out of it's pony-tail, she glared he guards. The four men flew back into the wall, pierced through the heart by an unknown projectile.

Armster straightened his tie and nodded towards the unmoving clergy. "Somebody do something about them before they thaw."

Dr. Cronquist pulled a pack of cigarettes from one of his vest pockets and nodded to one of the tour group members. The tour group member snapped his fingers and there was a horrible crunching noise. When Dr. Cronquist, after lighting his cigarette with a match, looked back down the hall, it was completely empty.

Armster turned to the tour group. "Do you hear it, my children? Do you hear the music? The symphony of war? A great conductor will conduct a great orchestra of many soldiers soon; in the greatest war symphony this world has ever seen. My children, would you like to be part of this orchestra? Would you like to play the war symphony greater than all others?"

The tour group all fell to one knee. "We would, Elder Armster," Dr. Cronquist and Cynthia replied.

Armster grinned, revealing a pair of long, pointed fangs. "Then let us tune up our instruments."

***

Sakaki blinked a few times and tried desperately not to yawn.

"God, this is boring," he muttered.

"No shit," the man sitting next to him said.

Sakaki glanced at his compatriot in boredom. Long hair, eye-patch, looked like a pirate.

"So why are you here?" Sakaki asked.

"My new boss made me," Pip responded. "Something about a show of force. You?"

"Same as you. PR trip. We dress up nice and schmooze with someone and smooth over some rough patches. Or something. I really don't get it.

"Bit like this ceremony then."

"In what way? That it's to smooth over some rough patches, or that we don't get it?"

"Both."

Pip started to slump down in his chair. Seras, sitting next to Pip, reached over and pulled Pip up by his collar.

Sakaki smirked. "Lightweight."

Pip shook his head. "Easy for you to say. Your escort's human at least."

Sakaki glanced sideways at Dojima. "I wouldn't say that…. Ow!"

At a nearby table, Adrian crossed his legs and glanced down at his watch. The ceremony of Integra's execution was finished, now merely remained the ceremony for her resurrection.

He allowed himself a very rare smirk as he compared her to Jesus. It took him days to come back from the dead. She did it in a matter of hours.

His father knew he was here. He had to know. Some sense of decorum had kept him from revealing Adrian's presence, but he knew.

The question was, why hadn't he tried to contact him?

I thought I had taught you better manners. One does not talk during such a ceremony.

***

Red lights flashed. Alarms blared. Someone had tripped the system.

Guards were running. Weapons were being loaded. Important people were being moved underground.

Armster and his group kept moving through the corridors of the Vatican, slashing, burning, crushing, killing.

They never stood a chance, poor humans.

A tall, burly priest threw open the doors in front of Armster. Before the priest had time to react, Armster had impaled him on one of his swords.

"Isn't their fanatical devotion… cute?"

Cynthia blinked a few times, then held up a trembling hand to point at the priest. "Ummm, Joachim?"

Armster looked towards the priest, who was standing up. He looked down at the sword impaled through his chest quizzically. He grunted, pulled the sword out, and held it up to the light.

"You stole this from the exhibit, didn't you?"

Armster raised an eyebrow and motioned down towards the door on his right. "Go my children. I'm afraid you are far out of your league here."

The witches raced down the hall. Dr. Cronquist stopped and looked up at Armster. "That iron cross I made you will protect you from this place. It won't help you squat if you get stabbed with one of his blessed blades. Try not to get skewered." He turned and ran down the hall.

Anderson tossed the sword towards Armster. It was grabbed by some force and arced towards Armster, joining the other blades around him. Anderson produced two bayonets from his coat.

"So, vampiric trash, how are you surviving here? Isn't fatal for your kind to be this close to God's holy light?"

Armster smirked. "And I should tell you… why? Because we are both sword dancers? Then come sword dancer, let us dance."

"The Lord will drive you and the king you set over you to a nation unknown to your fathers. There you will worship other gods, gods of wood and stone. You will become a thing of horror and an object of ridicule to all the nations where the Lord will drive you. Amen. "

Anderson rushed towards Armster. Armster brought around one of his blades, which Anderson deflected with a bayonet. Armster tried to hit him with another sword, but he had underestimated Anderson's speed. It was all he could do to block Anderson's bayonets with a sword.

Anderson bounced backwards and tossed his blades at Armster, who dodged to the side, then rushed forward, his swords spinning around him like a tornado.

Anderson rushed towards him, threw himself forward, rolled under, came up, and threw more bayonets at Armster. Armster spun around and brought up a sword to block. He was surprised as Anderson reached into his coat and brought out a Bible to fling at Armster. Armster smirked and sliced upward with a sword, slashing up through the bible's spine. The pages flew out of the out of the bible and whirled around the room. When the view cleared, the walls were covered with pages, pinned to the wall with bayonets.

"Purifying this house? How could this place be anymore holy?"

Anderson growled. "You're here, aren't you?"

***

"May I have this dance, Master?"

Integra sipped at her champagne. "Dance, Alucard? I wasn't aware you danced."

"Not for many years, Master. But they say you never forget the steps. As I recall, it has been a long time since you danced."

Integra stood up. "And the last time was also with you. When I turned eighteen."

Alucard took her hand and put his other hand on the small of her back. "You always remain the same age to me, Sir Integra Hellsing. Or rather, Sir Integra Helsing."

Integra was mildly impressed that he managed to pronounce it without the extra "s", but knew better than to let it show.

"I hope you behaved yourself while I was gone." Integra said as Alucard whirled her around.

"And if I haven't? Will you lock me up in the basement for another twenty years? Waiting for your child to come running from a murderous rival?"

"You assume my child will need your help. We have another vampire to rely on."

Alucard grinned. "Ah, yes. The Police Girl. What will you do about her? She is no longer bound to me, and therefore no longer bound to you. She could go rogue. Kill a few humans. What will you do about her?"

"Nothing. Unlike you, we don't need to restrain her."

"Am I that untrustworthy?"

"Until you prove yourself otherwise, yes."

"And how do I prove otherwise?"

Integra didn't respond. They danced in silence for a while, until the music finished. They both bowed.

"May I have the next dance?"

A tall, pale, dark haired man had suddenly appeared. He proffered his hand to Integra. "Provided, of course, that your escort does not mind?"

Alucard smiled. "Mind? Why should I mind? I'm sure it's been a while since you danced as well."

Alucard backed away and walked off towards the bar. "And after all, it's her choice."

Integra looked at the man coolly. "Aren't you going to at least introduce yourself before demanding a dance?"

"Ah. Where are my manners?" He bowed. "I have many names. Alucard, Genya Arikado, but for now, let us me my original name. The one my father gave me. I am Adrian Farenheights Tepes."

"Oh really? I wasn't aware that you were on speaking terms with your father," Integra said as she accepted his hand. "In fact, I believe the last time you saw each other was when my ancestor bound him to the family."

"Certain events have forced a reunion rather sooner than I expected."

"…And what would those events be?"

Adrian nodded towards a table on the side of the dance floor. "Events that I suspect he is here to speak to you about."

Integra's eyes narrowed as she looked towards where he was nodding.

"What. Is. He. Doing. Here?"

"Perhaps he is here for the same reason I am. To band together against a mutual foe. Perhaps he enjoys taunting you. Perhaps he's only after a free meal. If you wish to know his intentions, why not ask him yourself?"

As the dance ended, Integra bowed to Adrian and glanced at Walter, who was standing at the edge of the dance floor. He weaved his way through the dancers to her. "Walter, watch my meeting with Father Maxwell," she said, nodding her head towards Enrico's table. "If it looks like I'm about to do something… undiplomatic, you have my permission to use any and all means to stop me."

Walter nodded and melded back into the crowd.

Integra turned to Adrian, but found that he had already been roped into a dance by a Japanese woman with short brown hair. She raised an eyebrow, but turned and approached Enrico's table, where he was twirling a full champagne flute in his hand and speaking to an elderly priest beside him. As she approached, she caught the words "Means to stop me," before the elderly priest nodded and melded into the crowd with a skill that matched Walter's.

Enrico looked up, drowned his champagne in one gulp, stood, and bowed. "The most worthy Sir Integral Helsing. How are you?"

***

Dr. Cronquist raced down the hall, the witches following him closely. As he passed through the crossroads, a gunshot rang through the halls and a bullet passed within inches of his head. He dived forward and rolled towards the other side of the corridor.

"Iscariot assassin group!"

Cynthia flattened herself against the wall and peaked out into the corridor. A bullet came flying towards her head, but was deflected away into the wall behind her.

"WITCHES!" A voice with an Austrian accent called out. "They're witches! Contact Solomon! Ready the anti-witch ammunition!"

Cynthia squinted and a few of the priests flew backwards, dead. Their leader, a tall blonde woman in priest's clothing dodged behind a pillar. The wall behind where she had been standing exploded outwards, spraying rubble everywhere.

Another bullet flew by her head, but she was unable to deflect it. "Aw shit." She flattened back against the wall and looked towards Dr. Cronquist. "Go! It's more important then all of this."

Cronquist nodded, then reached into one of his pockets. He squeezed something in his right hand, then tossed it over to Cynthia. Cynthia squinted and the object zoomed across into her hand. Cronquist turned and dashed down the hall.

***

Sakaki leaned back against the bar and watched the meeting between Integra Helsing and Enrico Maxwell. "Diplomacy at work," he muttered.

Pip came up beside him. "Heineken," he said to the bartender. He turned to Sakaki. "You want something, my comrade in boredom?"

Sakaki shrugged. "I'll have a beer, if you're buying."

Pip nodded. "Two Heinekens, then." He stuck his hand out. "I don't think I introduced myself. Pip Bernadette."

Sakaki stared at his hand. Michael came up behind him and whispered something in his ear. Sakaki nodded, then shook Pip's hand.

"Sakaki Haruto."

Pip raised an eyebrow. "What the hell was that all about?"

"Cultural differences," Michael said. "Shaking hands isn't very common in Japan."

"Ah. Right. I knew that."

Sakaki smirked. "It's alright. You're buying me a drink, after all."

Pip smiled and leaned against the bar and looked around.

Sakaki turned to Michael. "How did you survive that ceremony?"

"You mean that fascinating look into Britain's complex history and pageantry?"

"…Michael?"

"Oh, alright." Michael produced a Game Boy from one of his pockets.

Sakaki nodded. "Should've known. Miss Karasuma confiscated mine before we left the hotel."

"And I should have confiscated yours, as well." Karasuma said, snatching the Game Boy from Michael's hands. "Excuse me, Mr. Bernadette?"

Pip looked up. "Captain, Captain Bernadette."

"Whatever. You might want to keep an eye on your escort."

Pip looked over to where Karasuma was pointing. "Tch. That's not right." He nodded to Sakaki and stalked off across the dance floor.

"What was that about?" Sakaki asked.

"Oh, high society's usual preoccupation with looking down on those who aren't them," Karasuma answered.

Sakaki shrugged and sipped at his beer.

Dojima ran up and tugged on Sakaki's arm. "C'mon, dance with me!"

"Dance?"

"Yeah. You know, move your body in time to music, often played by a band?"

"I don't really know how to dance, Dojima."

"That's alright, I'll lead."

Karasuma took the beer from his hand and pushed him forward.

"Go, have fun. You're too young to be drinking anyway."

"Actually," Michael said as Dojima dragged Sakaki onto the dance floor. "The drinking age here is eighteen."

Karasuma nodded and drank Sakaki's beer. "Yeah, but he doesn't know that."

***

Dr. Cronquist turned a corner and ran into a large door. He reached into a pocket and pulled out a bag of red powder. He poured the powder out on his hand and blew it at the lock. As the powder hit the lock, it started to dissolve. Dr. Cronquist pushed his way in through the door. On the other side, a woman in a nun's habit sat, holding a katana across her legs. A chest sat behind her.

The nun stood up, her head bowed. "Are you sure you'd rather not just… give up and go away?"

Dr. Cronquist smiled. "Sorry honey. Not happening."

Yumiko looked up at Dr. Cronquist. He thought he could almost see tears in her eyes behind those enormous glasses.

"Please?"

Cronquist took a step forward.

Yumiko's reached up and pulled off her glasses. Yumie reached down and pulled her sword from its sheath. She closed the distance between her and Cronquist in the blink of an eye. Cronquist pulled something from his pocket and squeezed it in his hand. A sword of light emerged to block Yumie's katana.

"I suppose I could spare a moment or two to dance with you."

***

The figured in the hooded jacked stood in front of Buckingham Palace and lit a cigarette. She looked towards the guards standing in front of the gate. "Do you mind?"

The guard stared straight forward, ignoring the hooded figure.

"Oh. Right. You guys aren't allowed to talk. Like the Cap."

She shrugged, and walked away from the gate. She walked around the corner and ducked into an alley. She glanced around, then pressed her hand to the ground. Letters slid off her hand and snaked their way up the buildings, sliding through the darkness over the streets and up the walls of the palace. They snaked their way into a window and began to slowly spread through the ballroom.

***

Seras sat in the middle of the young noblewomen; glad she hadn't drunk enough blood to produce a blush.

They weren't talking about her. Not directly, at least. However, they had somehow made it abundantly clear what they thought of her, what they thought of her dress, her hair, and her lack of dancing invitations.

It was like being back in school.

"Ohhh, look at him! I love the eye patch!"

"There's a rogue for you. I wonder where he's been. People like him, they've seen foreign countries."

Seras looked up to see a crowd of girls flocking around Pip. Pip raised an eyebrow and tried to force his way through the crowd. He pushed through the throng of girls and stumbled in front of Seras.

"You know, try no to be too obvious about where you push when forcing your way through a crowd."

Pip grinned. "I'm a guy. I can't help it."

"Then why aren't you dancing with them?"

"Three reasons. One: I'm your escort, I'm supposed to dance with you." He offered his hand to Seras.

Seras took it, and stood up.

"Two," Pip said as he led her to the dance floor. "They're useless, and useless women bug me. I'm not quite sure why."

"And the third?" Seras asked as she started dance.

"I can't tell you. You'll hit me again."

"I will not!"

"Yes you will."

"I promise I won't."

"Alright, you've got a nicer rack than they do."

"You're right. I'm going to hit you."

Then letters enveloped the room and the world disappeared.

***

Yumie slid her sword into her sheath, stuck into her arm, and crouched down.

"An iai strike?"

"You actually know something of swordsmanship. How impressive. Are you ready to die, pagan?"

Flash

Clang!

Crckkkzasssshhhh

Cronquist's sword broke and faded out. He dropped the jewel in his hand to the ground. "Guess I'm running low. My cue to leave." He kicked Yumie in the chest, sending her sprawling. Before she could get up and recover, he rushed across and threw open the chest. He pulled something from the chest, reached into his pocket, and squeezed.

Two floors up, Cynthia gritted her teeth and checked down at the jewel Cronquist had given her. Suddenly, it flashed blue.

"We're leaving! Gather round!"

Meanwhile, a floor above them, Anderson was missing an arm. Sheered off at the elbow.

Both of Armster's arms were dislocated and broken.

Neither seemed to really care.

"Time for me to go," Armster said.

"Who the hell are you, demon?"

Armster smiled. "We are," he said as a jewel around his neck flashed, temporarily blinding Anderson, "The Coven."

When Anderson's vision cleared, Armster was gone. He cursed and ran off down the hallway, the skeletal structure of his arm already growing back.

***

"What on earth?"

"Where are we?"

"Protect the Queen! Stay back, your majesty!"

"Will everybody just calm down and be quiet!" Integra's stern voice rang through the ballroom, sheathed in blackness, images of carnage dancing around them. Soldiers fought, bombs exploded in trenches, men on horseback skewered innocent peasants.

"Alucard? What is going on?"

Alucard chuckled. "Do you see it, my children? Do you recognize this scene for what it truly is? You walk the nights of your own will, Adrian and Seras. Are you ready for it?"

Seras looked around blindly. "What do you mean?"

Suddenly she felt a hand on her shoulder. "Imagine you have an eye in the middle of your forehead," Adrian said. "Now, open that eye, and see what's real."

Seras' eyes widened. "It's an illusion. It's all fake."

Pip growled. "That's all very well, but what about those of us without bloody invisible eyes in our foreheads?"

Karasuma started to wave her arms around, looking for the bar she knew was there. When she tried to lean against the area she thought it was, her hands passed through thin air and she fell to the floor. Michael ran over, hit the bar with his knee, and tried to help her up. Karasuma brushed him off, removed one of her gloves, and touched the cold wooden floor.

Images. A woman in a hooded jacket. Tattoos. Cigarettes. An eye. A swastika.

"It's witch magic! This is some sort of craft!"

Enrico smiled. "Craft eh? I know how to deal with that." He threw pushed back his robe to reveal a rapier on each hip. He grabbed the rapier on his right hip, pulled it out of the sheath, and slammed it into the ground. Various runes inscribed on the rapier flowed down the blade like water, flowing outwards over the darkness, erasing it where it passed.

"So, you are actually good for something," Integra said.

"Don't count out Iscariot just yet, Sir Helsing," a voice said from the windows.

The party whirled around to see a figure in a hooded jacket. It reached up and pulled back the hood to reveal a woman with short, blonde hair; a face half covered in tattoos, and a lazy eye.

A quarter of the room suddenly produced weapons and trained them on her. She smiled and produced a cigarette. "You all brought weapons to a party? How paranoid," she said in a German accent. She spread her arms out to her sides. "I'm unarmed. I am just here to deliver a message which the Valentines failed to." She shook her head. "Such a shame, I had such high hopes for the two of them."

"Speak your piece, you pathetic copy, so that I can end your misery that much sooner," Alucard said. He smiled and pulled Casull from his jacket, the gleaming silver flashing in the overhead lights.

"Very well. As Jan would have put it… happy mother-fucking Millennium." Her cigarette was suddenly cut off by a monofilament wire. She saw Walter and Father Renaldo, who had produced a pair of Bibles from his robe, slowly advanced towards her. She spat out the cigarette and jumped back through the window into the night.

Sakaki rushed towards the window and looked out into the blackness.

"It's no good," Alucard said. "She's gone."

Integra wheeled around on Enrico. "What do you know, Maxwell? What secret have you been hiding from us?"

"Sir Integra!" The Queen's voice echoed through the hall. "Please do not accuse Father Maxwell of anything until he has spoken."

Integra backed off slightly. "Yes, your majesty."

"Now, Father Maxwell, is there something you wish to say?"

Enrico smirked and opened his mouth, when something at his hip beeped. "Would you excuse me?" he asked. He pulled out a cell phone from his pocket. "Hello… WHAT?…Is the Pope?…Who took what, from where?" Enrico, visibly shaken, leaned against a table for support. "No… no, stay there. Send Yumiko and Heinkel up here immediately. I'll give you further orders later." Enrico closed the phone, placed it on the table, and breathed heavily.

"Thirty-six hours."

"What?"

"Give me thirty-six hours, and I'll have the answers you want, Miss Helsing." He turned around. "But remember, I'm only doing this because his Holiness ordered me to, because we owe you for Anderson's behavior."

***

In a small restaurant in South America, Amon sat across from Robin and calmly ate. He reached for his drink and Robin noticed that there were small pieces of ice floating in it.

"I thought they didn't have any ice," she said.

Amon glanced down at his glass. "They didn't."

Damn it. He thought. It's happening again. And if my craft awakens where it will draw attention?

A young man with red hair and a goatee staggered over to their table and leaned on it, bowing his head over their meals. Amon and Robin instinctively covered their soup.

"Hey," the redhead slurred. "You both look like you're hunters, ya know? I'm a hunter to, and hunters can always recognize other hunters. It's in the eyes. You can always tell another hunter."

"He's drunk," Robin said.

Amon sniffed the air. There was no alcohol on this man's breath.

"I'm J." The redhead said. "And I think we're going to the best of friends, right?" His eyes suddenly grew clear, and he stopped slurring his words. "And I think, as friends, you'll trust me when I tell you to duck, now!"

They threw themselves under the table, as gunfire rang out through the clear afternoon sky.

"Great day to start a friendship, don't you think?" J said.