Hellsing Fan Fiction ❯ The Order of Lilith ❯ The Relic ( Chapter 2 )

[ T - Teen: Not suitable for readers under 13 ]

AN: Hello again! Just a couple of things…

I'd hope to get this out sooner, but the chapter kinda got away from me and ended up a little bit on the lengthy side O.o I got carried away with Alucard and Father Anderson fighting, what can I say?

First I want to apologize for the heinous typos in my first posting of the previous chapter. I was seriously half asleep when I edited it - I hope all the mistakes are fixed now. And thank you again for your comments! I'm hoping to get better with the characters as I go on, your encouraging words and suggestions are very appreciated as I'm still getting comfortable with writing Hellsing. I also wanted to say a few things about the research: There are sooo many contradicting accounts of Vlad Dracula (especially of his death). I just chose the one that fit my story idea best, though I love to read your different opinions. I don't claim to be any kind of authority on the subject, I just think this is all extremely fun and interesting. That and this is fiction, nothing I would ever claim is sanctioned by the creators or anything like that. It's just my take on things, an idea, a story that I hope you'll all enjoy.

Thank you again for reading!

The Order of Lilith

By Stella

Chapter 2 - The Relic

"I'm looking forward to our weekend, pookie."

"As am I, lovey."

The man Alucard assumed to be Harrington was hunkered down in a leather armchair behind his vast mahogany desk, quietly cooing into the receiver. He was a short, pug-faced figure, tapping out some classical tune absentmindedly on his ink blotter with an expensive-looking fountain pen. The lamp nearby illuminated his ruddy cheeks, which grew to apple size when he grinned. The teeth that revealed themselves seemed too small to accommodate the size of his head.

"Yes, I've missed you, too, lovey. I'll send the car round after my meeting. Bring that little black dress I like." A young woman giggled on the other end of the line. Alucard knew already, she wasn't his wife.

The vampire shook his head and chuckled to himself. Certainly he was having more fun than the police girl, who was stationed at the house just down the road. They'd been out here for hours and he'd caught neither sight nor scent of Anderson or a roaming group of FREAKS.

"Pity. And I was looking forward to a little bit of fun."

Alucard continued listening to Harrington's whispered phone conversation while taking in the new surroundings. Waiting around outside had gotten boring, so the Hellsing agent silently passed through the neatly kept brick walls of the Harringtons' country estate, only to find himself in the library. The smell of old leather and decaying pages hung heavily around the ornate chandelier and all things caught in its glow. The walls he stood by were richly colored, wallpapered in deep shades of green, gold and burgundy. Dizzying patterns on a delicately woven Persian rug stretched over the marble floors until they stopped at carved panels that made up a set of doors on the far side.

Alucard, materializing into little more than a shadow in a remote corner of the room, let his eyes drift over the ceiling-high shelves of books and a massive wooden case filled with different rosaries, urns and prayer cards. They sat upon velvet cushions, displayed amongst the other precious items safely nestled under a 15th century oil painting of the Madonna; all of them antiques, heirlooms, artifacts - religious oddities that the wealthy master of the house had collected over the years. The dark figure let out a silent huff. Humans and their petty attachment to objects, sacred or otherwise. Their need for comfort, for justification…

"But pookie, what are you going to tell HER?"

Harrington fingered an ornate cross around his neck as he spoke.

To maintain the semblance of righteousness…

"She's off on holiday with the children anyway. I told her I had some business in Milan, which isn't completely untrue. You'll be my business. But I have to take care of this first, lovey."

The woman laughed again. Her syrupy, pouty voice was almost too much to take.

"Who are you meeting this late at night?"

"A collector." The balding little man ran his sausage-like fingers over an awkwardly shaped package in front of him. His greedy expression took a turn when the female voice squealed on the other end of the line.

"Oooh?"

"He's interested in one of my newly acquired pieces and insisted on meeting me tonight. Wouldn't take no for an answer. Strange fellow, sounded foreign."

Harrington's watery eyes flew up at the door, as if he were expecting the guest at any moment. He turned his attention back to the object on the desk and smiled.

"He seemed exceedingly anxious. Said quite a few people have been dying to lay their hands on it. I'm just glad I snatched it up from that stupid little dealer in Cardiff last month who had no idea what it was worth."

Another shrill outburst sounded through the connection. "Does this mean I'll get a special present? I saw this diamond bracelet at-"

Harrington pulled out a handkerchief and wiped the sweat from his hairless head. "Look, lovey, I really have to go. That bloke will be here any second. I'll see you later tonight."

A sharp sensation jabbed at Alucard's senses when Harrington hung up the receiver. The vampire cast a glance out of the moonlit windows behind the room's other occupant. The color of night was thick like dark velvet, blanketing the rolling hills outside in plush shades of black and blue. The house where Seras waited was little more than a deeper impression; Alucard's stare strayed to the low circle of the full moon. A dark figure moved against it, seeming large even in the distance. It clutched a shaft of gleaming metal in each of its lanky arms and moved in a steady progression towards the St. James estate.

"So you didn't disappoint me after all," he muttered in a voice that no human ear could pick up. The hunger for battle rumbled through his entire being. He ran a tongue over his fangs and flexed his gloved hands. "Target is confirmed."

Harrington was unaware of his company and was humming to himself, distracted by his latest treasure, no doubt. He was still staring at the paper-wrapped lump in his palm. He ran a covetous hand over the parcel, then slid a finger under the covering and pulled it back, revealing another layer, this time of soft cloth. Alucard turned his eyes back to the night. Behind Harrington, the sword-toting shadow on the road was swallowed by the darkness. "Releasing control on restriction system to level three."

The vampire glided nearer, intent on stealing a closer look at the object held by the human before he was forced to depart. Harrington was about to loosen the last of the woven fabric when Alucard heard the scream he'd been expecting finally echo through his mind.

"Master!"

* * * * *

"They haven't returned yet, Sir Integra." Walter took her empty cup and replaced it with a full one. The soft rattling of china and the warm scent of tea were a welcome distraction from the pages of gruesome photos and irritatingly inconclusive reports from the authorities in Cardiff and London.

Walter hovered over her chair, arranging and rearranging the cups and saucers in a slow, deliberate fashion. Integra could feel his eyes stealing glances at the files over her shoulder. When she turned to scowl up at him, he had finished collecting the remainder of the tea service and skirted the side of her desk. The tray was perched on one of his hands and he stood directly in front of her, feet together and spine straight, as if at attention.

She reached for a cigar. "What is it, Walter?"

"If I may, mum, I'd like to suggest that we go above and beyond our regular search and destroy mission in this particular case."

Integra raised an eyebrow and tilted her head up so that she could look straight at him. Walter seemed momentarily taken aback by the simple gesture; the monocle slipped from his face and the tea tray rocked slightly atop his palm. The leader of Hellsing kept one eye fixed on him while she rummaged through a desk drawer and retrieved her lighter. Puffs of sweet-smelling smoke began to meander towards the ceiling while she narrowed her eyes at the steward.

"Go on."

Walter appeared to relax slightly. He drew in a deep breath and set the tray down, then returned to a less rigid stance. "It's just that… I don't get the impression that the police are up to information retrieval at any rate. I know that we've done a small amount in the past, but perhaps if we conducted our own full investigation, we would be able to head off this series of events before it becomes something catastrophic. Besides, it's very difficult to say whether or not MI-5 and the S.A.S. can truly be trusted given... what took place not long ago. "

She pressed her lips together and readied herself for the pain that would undoubtedly spring up and gnaw at the scars on her neck from the mere allusion to it all. She closed her eyes and saw Alucard's face leaning so close to hers.

Look around you, Master. Everything has changed.

Despite her ardent denials to the contrary, more to herself than to her undead servant, she felt the truth of that statement. It throbbed in every resistant beat of her heart and attacked at the times when her mind was not preoccupied by work. She could pick out the small instances in which it did not apply: she was still a Hellsing; Walter would be at her side until he was dead and buried and Alucard… Alucard was still her servant. But what he had said went far beyond that. Her very trust in all the things she held to had been shaken. Faith, honor and duty and been crushed by lies, deceit and betrayal.

If things must change, better to have the power to control those changes.

Her eyelids parted slowly, revealing Walter still standing in front of her with hands clasped behind his back and shadows filling the deep lines around his eyes.

"Very well, Walter. I trust you'll see to it personally."

The steward gave a bit of a start, then a brisk nod. "Of course, Sir Integra."

He moved in for the tray and she bent her head, trying to study the information on the last page of a police report. She read and reread the same line, comprehending none of it.

"Good night then," Walter called out over the sound of a closing door. "Do try to get some rest." Integra looked up, but the doors had already fallen shut behind him. She shook her head and pushed the other thoughts from consciousness. Her fingers found the cigar again and then swiftly flipped back to the beginning of the file. Images of slain ghouls with blades pinning their heads to the ground stared up at her with one word written on the bottom of the photo - Iscariot.

* * * * *

Pages of scripture were tacked to every tree around the clearing. Alucard crept in with the low mist and found her standing face to face with their visitor, cannon trained on the tall priest's spiky head. The younger vampire stood above the intruder, having entrenched herself atop one of the sloping hills on the St. James estate. Seras's features were hard-set in a scowl.

Alucard smirked. He watched her finger twitch against the trigger as a familiar snide voice sliced through the dark.

"I thought I was tracking a band of the chipped demons here. But you'll do." His lips curled into a snarl and his whole body flinched as if ready to attack. Seras stood her ground.

"You don't belong here. You have no authority in this country."

"Don't I? I have the sacred authority to rid the world of undead filth. That's all I need." The priest drawled, holding a pair of blades in a cross formation. "Your Sir Hellsing is a heretic and a weakling, incapable of protecting the people of this land or controlling the monsters she keeps. I should have known it's you who are responsible for these killings. So, Hellsing's taken to exterminating the true followers of God with the creatures who defile his name with their very existence?"

Seras sputtered. Her grip on the gun was so tense that Alucard could see her arms shaking. "You think we've been killing those Catholic families? We were sent here tonight to protect them!"

A light breeze tossed the edges of Anderson's ankle-length coat, revealing long legs that were bent at the knee and ready to propel him for a strike. "Lies. That's all you demons are capable of. And what have you been doing? Selling off all those valuable holy relics that have been stolen? Trying to fund your broken little organization? "

Alucard solidified his form and stepped forward from his place behind Seras. He clutched the Casull tightly and extended his arm over the police girl's other shoulder.

"I think you've asked enough questions… Catholic."

He fired the gun when Anderson charged, shattering one of the swords in the priest's hands. Alucard swept his free arm over Seras; as if in a dance, the pair whirled over the crest of the hill. Another onslaught of silvery weapons narrowly missed the vampires. Wind rushed over the grass again as blades came to rest in a nearby tree.

"Police girl. I'll take care of this. Go and keep an eye on the other house. They were expecting someone."

Seras nodded and broke into a run towards the Harrington residence. Alucard floated to his feet and moved to face the uninvited guest.

"The relics," Alucard seethed, plucking a knife and scripture page from a nearby tree trunk. "How dare you even suggest that my master needs anything that belongs to you. Maybe you'll be a relic someday, too, Judas Priest." A fresh clip of bullets clicked into place. The Casull gleamed in his hand and he sauntered forward, red coat swirling with every step. "They'll put your body in a museum vault and give away little bits of your bones for the pathetic masses to wear around their necks."

Alucard gracefully dodged another assault and grinned at the deepening creases on his opponent's forehead. Anderson emitted a low growl before producing another set of knives. Didn't the priest know he was only more fun when he was angry?

The two launched themselves at each other again. Anderson swooped down from the hilltop, swords flying in his wake. Alucard shot several of them out of the air and grazed the priest's arm in the process. With his last bullet, he deflected another blade but turned at the last moment and felt something bite into the flesh just above his heart. He came to a halt on the dewy grass and caught sight of his adversary. Anderson was breathing heavily. The eyes behind his glasses seemed to be frantically searching the night for Alucard.

"Tired already, sad little Vatican plaything?" The vampire pulled the sword from his shoulder and let it fall to the ground. "Is that all you have for me after so long? I'm sincerely disappointed."

"You damn monster," Anderson spat. "Get on your knees and start praying."

Alucard smiled and slid the Jackal out from its resting place in his coat.

"Why? Will you grant me a miracle if I do?" He fired at Anderson's head. The priest ducked and twirled away, moving closer as Alucard took another shot.

"Will you absolve me of my sins?"

The Jackal rang out again.

"Save my immortal soul?"

Alucard raised the gun in time to parry Anderson's attack. The blade scraped against the firearm's metal casing and the priest's eyes burned like flickering green flames. "You have no soul. God's divine mercy isn't meant for the likes of you. I'll send you to hell where you belong."

Alucard flipped the Casull in his other hand and struck the priest hard in the stomach with handle. He tottered backwards and Hellsing's vampire aimed the gun at Anderson's heart. "Just try it."

The roar of Seras's cannon exploded into the night. From across the country road, the tall windows of the Harrington's library shattered and spewed glass in shining fragments onto the well-manicured lawn.

Alucard glanced back at the priest, who was already off and running for the structure. "I hate to leave a fight unfinished," he shouted at Anderson's retreating back. "I'll consider this an intermission."

The vampire replaced his gun and shifted his shape. As a large black bat, he soared over the sloping hills and arrived amid the chaos in Harrington's library.

There were a dozen of them at least, all dressed in strange white robes and ransacking the room. Books were strewn on the floor, statues smashed and portraits being ripped from the walls and torn from the frames. Seras was holding the some of the group at bay, hastily reloading the cannon while Harrington cowered behind her under the overturned desk. She had already reduced two FREAKS to mounds of ash on the floor and was aiming for the others that flanked her left.

"Stay back," she ground out. "I won't let you murder another person."

"Just give us what we came for, girl," one of them hissed. "Maybe then, we'll kill you quickly."

"Oh, I'll give you something." In a flash of light, the artificial vampire was a smoking outline of dust.

"Looks like you have this under control, police girl."

"Master!" She made a face at Alucard and reached for another round of ammunition. More of the intruders were closing in. "Took your time, didn't you?"

He brought the Jackal out and fired over his shoulder, not even bothering to look at the offensive creature he had just sent into oblivion.

"The priest and I were having such fun. It was difficult to tear myself away."

Seras shook her head and took aim once again. Harrington was on the floor, covering his head and muttering something that sounded like a 'Hail Mary' between choked sobs and promises to God to never cheat on his wife again.

"They just burst in and started tearing the place apart," Seras said. "I didn't even hear them or see them coming." Alucard turned around to take another series of shots. He hit one of the targets, but a few had gotten wise and were making an effort to dodge his bullets. They climbed over the walls on all fours, ripping down everything in their path.

"I managed to get this man to safety, but there was another one - he came in right before they did; I don't think he's dead, but I don't know wh- dammit!" In her haste to reload, the younger vampire hadn't closed the chamber properly. A white-clad woman came screeching at them, fangs barred. Alucard noticed a strange mark on her forehead. He aimed for it, squeezed the trigger and she was no more. He'd had enough of this.

"You little vermin aren't very good, are you?" He shouted. Several of them halted their destructive pursuits for a moment and turned their heads in his direction. Low sounds bubbled up from their throats and their dull eyes followed his movements as if stalking easy prey. He strode to the center of the room, but as he went, the unmistakable scent of blood reached his nostrils. Under one of the toppled bookcases, Alucard recognized Father Enrico Maxwell pinned and bleeding into Harrington's expensive rug. Then he heard it again. That irritating voice.

"Father Maxwell?"

Alucard whirled around and leered at the new arrival. "Welcome back, priest. Just give me a few minutes to get this little matter cleared up and we can pick up where we left off."

"You-"Anderson let out a snort, but his eyes widened when he caught sight of his compatriot.

"Father Maxwell!"

"Don't touch me, Anderson," the other priest rasped. "Get the relic - the relic!"

"It's ours!" one of the FREAKS grunted. He was a broad-shouldered man with dark hair and eyebrows that knitted together as he sneered. "Killing you now will be merciful. When have fulfilled our duty, there will be no mercy left in this world. Your presence here tonight was a surprise to us, but it means nothing. What has been set in motion cannot be stopped."

Alucard rolled his eyes and pushed his glasses down in order to give the speaker a tired look. "Why don't you stop talking and show me instead."

The artificial vampire raised a hand and his lips slowly receded into a grin. "All you had to do was ask."

The strange, dark-haired vampire's laughter rose while his group descended upon the priest and Alucard. The others leapt from their perches and sprang at the two figures in the room's center. They came from all directions, teeth gnashed, fingers curled like razor-sharp talons. Two men and a woman tried to bite at his neck and chest, but Alucard threw them off with little effort. He fired a bullet into one of the remaining FREAKS and spun towards Seras in effort to silence another, but the Catholic got there first.

Anderson's blades flew and skewered the one Alucard had intended to kill and several more. The room was a blur of smoke, ashes, smoldering pages and fragments of wood. Though through it all, the oldest vampire could still see that dark-haired FREAK watching him with that strange shape glowing red on his forehead. The man smiled; pearly fangs glinted through the destruction. Alucard fought his way towards him, but even when he appeared to have made progress, the mysterious vampire seemed to be no closer.

An eerie quiet settled over the ruins of Harrington's library when Anderson struck the final blow. Alucard turned to watch the priest beheading the last attacking creature who then melted into the littered floor. When he searched the room again for the dark-haired FREAK, he seemed to have vanished.

An ear-splitting crash resounded from the far end of the room as Anderson shoved aside heavy wooden shelves and other remnants of the library to retrieve the crumpled form of the other priest. He flung the injured Maxwell over his arm and glared at Alucard. "This won't be the last time we meet, vampire. One of these blades is marked for you. The devil's waiting for you to come home." In a flurry of pages Anderson was gone.

"Limited release is now complete."

"You can come out now," Seras reassured Harrington. He opened his eyes for what seemed like the first time since the FREAKS had burst inside, Alucard figured. The man gasped and took in the devastated shell of a room that had formerly been his library.

"Where is it?" Alucard demanded as the human made a feeble attempt to gain his feet. He was sure that the little punks hadn't gotten what they'd come here for, and they were certainly likely to try again.

"It's been destroyed!" Harrington sobbed from his place behind Seras. His face resembled a large tomato that looked about ready to burst. He was still shaking and the strong scent of urine rose up from his drenched trousers. "Blasted right off my desk. This girl! This stupid stupid girl - she incinerated it when she came charging into my home. Who are you people anyway?"

"Excuse me!" Seras growled. "Did it escape your notice that just saved your life? I can't believe this! Those vampires would have ripped you apart!"

"V-v-vampires?" Harrington whimpered. He looked wildly from Seras to Alucard, focusing intently on the latter's very visible set of fangs. "I'm dreaming, I must be dreaming." His eyes widened and the color drained from his cheeks. He collapsed to the floor in a sweating, unconscious heap.

Alucard holstered his weapons and glanced over at his apprentice. "The coward priest is gone and so is the thing those pretenders were looking for. Well, that's a shame."

Seras was picking through the piles of ash and the mounds of decimated books and furniture. "What did they want, Master? There are loads of different things in here. I wonder which one it was. Are we really sure its not here? "

"If it isn't, all the better. But I think one of the little fakes got away." He frowned and kicked aside a battered table. A swatch of green fabric peeked out from under the rubble, singed though it was; it was the same color cloth that the "relic" as the Catholics called it, had been wrapped in. The vampire bent down and seized the object.

It was roughly the size of his outstretched hand and it certainly didn't look like much. It was a box made out of rough, splitting wood with tarnished gold-colored metal bands decorating the sides. An inscription, it seemed, was carved into the lid, but it was so faded and worn that even his vampire eyes could not make sense of it. A film of charcoaled dust covered the thing, sinking into all the cracks and imperfections. He fingered the latch. It was a simple enough looking mechanism, but in spite of his superior strength, he couldn't get it to budge.

He turned it over, examining it for something recognizable. When he saw the outline of the symbol, it was if he'd been shot right between the eyes. Alucard reeled backwards, clutching the relic tightly though fire seemed to sear through his body. The sensation receded and when it did, she was there, staring at him with those hellish ruby eyes that pierced through that night so long ago.

She was speaking his language now, muttering words of comfort and of blasphemy at the same time. "Drink," she smiled and pulled away from his neck. The prince blinked and watched his own blood run over her chin and drop onto the pristine white of her thinly woven robes. She bit into her wrist and dangled it over his face. His parched mouth cried out for liquid, his lungs seemed to be squeezing air out without taking any in. He opened his mouth to gasp, and she sprang at him, sealing her lips over his. An icy hand curled around the base of his neck, and she punctured her own tongue, sliding it into his mouth. Blood spurted out and poured down the back of his throat, sweet like water after days in the desert.

"You belong to me now." She broke the kiss and pulled away, letting his body drop hard against the frozen ground. The woman laughed and reared back to bare a milky-white neck that gleamed in the wintry moonlight.

Moments later his body shook - muscles knotted and jolted, full of pain, full of death. The scream that tore from his throat only appeared to make her amusement greater; her laughter deepened and swallowed his cries, mingling in a demonic symphony that filled the night to accompany his suffering. His eyes rolled back in his head when another convulsion pounded through him. He was plunged into darkness, and then just as suddenly, blinded by a fiery light that burned him from the inside out. He cursed her with the last of his strength and consciousness.

The waves of pain finally ebbed away, how much time had passed, he didn't know. His eyes peeled open - the world came into focus once again - and such focus. The night air itself was alive. Moonlight illuminated the shapes around him, what should have been mottled shadows were clear and crisp. He could hear the sounds of animals in the distant forest, and nearer, the shallow breaths and low moans of his dying men. All of them, dying or dead. He could smell it, he could taste it. Death.

He propped himself up on his elbows, and she hovered over him.

"It's a fine night," she said, again in his language. "Wouldn't you agree?"

He stumbled to his feet and plucked the sword from his body, wincing only slightly. The prince watched in wonderment as the wound sealed up in mere moments. The blade gleamed in his hands and he studied the details of the jeweled hilt and metal work as if he were seeing it for the first time.

Alucard slammed the box down on Harrington's upturned desk and backed away.

"Master? What is it? Is everything--?

"Take that thing and deliver it to Sir Integra," he growled. "I'll give Walter the full report - he'll have to get someone to clean up this mess."

Seras nodded, but continued to eye him as if she wanted to ask more questions. He watched the police girl scoop up the small wooden box and tuck it under her arm. Without another word he dissolved into the darkness.

* * * * *

She rested her chin on gloved hands and locked her eyes on the object in front of her. It looked like it belonged in rubbish heap, not something that humans and vampires alike were losing their lives over. Integra massaged her temples and looked up when she felt the air in her office take a chilly turn. Her crimson-clad servant ambled towards where she sat, moving slowly and without his hat and glasses. Rays of moonlight had been replaced by the grey haze of the impending day. Another night spent working, and a day full of tasks awaiting her attention was swiftly beginning.

"You haven't slept."

Alucard stopped in front of the desk and stared down at her. She had never seen him look worn and haggard, as she was sure that she appeared right now. Integra could practically feel the dark circles welling under her sore, tired eyes. But she was certain he had to feel some sort of… weariness, didn't he? If he could feel hunger or thirst, he had to get tired. Though she had never really asked him. Someday, perhaps, but not today. "You haven't retired either," she replied. "And it's already dawn."

He let out a low chuckle and stepped forward into the light. "That makes little difference to me. It's been a very long time since I feared the rays of the sun."

Integra drew in a breath and dropped her gaze to the wooden box on the desk. It seemed that the more sunlight that crept into the room, the increasingly darker and decrepit the thing became. Seras hadn't said very much when she'd brought it in, except that the item had nearly been lost and that the Iscariot Organization was pursuing it also.

"So what is this thing, I wonder? What is it that they wanted it so badly?"

Alucard kept his distance and averted his eyes from the relic. He began to pace the length of the office. "Do they really need a reason?"

"Perhaps next time you could make them talk before killing them."

The vampire stopped short and turned around. "Well, that's certainly different. I thought killing them had been my mission."

Integra removed her glasses and rubbed her eyes. Words tumbled from her lips; she could hear them running together in one exhausted stream but could do little to stop it. "Walter suggested that we attempt to conduct our own full investigation into this matter. I agreed. We are still required to work with the police, though, by order of Her Majesty."

Alucard was moving back in her direction. A slight smirk had formed on his lips. "They still don't trust you. They're keeping a close watch, just waiting for another opportunity to take you and put you back-"

The muscles in her shoulders tensed and she sat up straighter in her chair. She forced the air from her lungs in order to talk over him. "I'll have Walter take it down to the police laboratories for analysis first thing. Perhaps they'll be able to at least pry the damned thing open."

"I wouldn't be so sure. Even I couldn't open it."

"You tried to…?"

He nodded. "I can't imagine how that fool Harrington with the foul smelling blood thought he was going to unlatch it."

Integra reached for the shabby green cloth and dropped the cover over the artifact. She then attempted to rise from her chair, but the effort proved too much for her worn-out body. Her head swam and limbs hung limply. All she could do was glare up at her servant. "A human being should be more than the blood that runs through their veins."

Alucard moved around the side of the desk and fixed his glowing eyes on her. "Should, but often isn't. You sit here, night after night, day after day, pushing your already weakened body in order to protect them. I haven't found a human yet that was worthy of being the cause of your death." Integra could sense him drawing closer, but she lacked the strength to search out the source of the words that were now flying around in her brain. Each of them was an echo which kept it's intensity in the closed confines of her fading consciousness. "That sniveling little waste of flesh that the police girl and I encountered tonight… They are all the same," Alucard continued. "Not one of them is deserving of your life."

His icy breath tickled her neck. She felt her eyelids growing heavy, too heavy to resist closing them. His voice seemed little more than a sinister whisper in the distance. "Why do you keep defending them?"

Integra was at a loss to tell whether or not she spoke her reply aloud, or answered him with the only thought she could muster. "You know the answer to that, Alucard. It is my--."

"It must go above duty, Master."

"I have to believe, Alucard," she mumbled, struggling to open her eyes again. "I must believe in humanity's ability to conquer all else. We have endured and must continue to do so. But… you may leave now. I have more work to do."

"It will keep until you've slept."

"No, I have to…"

Her body molded to the chair and she lost the battle to keep the world in focus. Her chair gave a slight creak and very suddenly, she felt as if she were floating, save for the fabric her cheek was resting against. It smelled of the countryside, fresh and cool, as if the night air was somehow woven into the soft cloth.

A set of doors opened and closed, and then she was once again aware of something soft, yet solid under her body. After that all sensations ceased. There was quiet darkness, and a faint, familiar voice that ushered her into it.

"Sleep well, my Master…"