Hellsing Fan Fiction ❯ Youth and Innocence ❯ chapter 3 ( Chapter 3 )

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

Youth and Innocence

Chapter 3

As his head slid through the neck of the black turtleneck, Walter was less than surprised to find two red eyes only inches from his own. “Come to watch me dress have you?” He laughed to see the rest of the vampire ease into solid form. “Well, that's certainly low key!” Somehow, Walter reflected, the face is always identifiable. It's always Alucard, though the wrapping may change considerably. As Walter bent down to lace his shoes on, the vampire began spinning, apparently to watch the ostentatious red duster flare out behind him. He would've worried about the furniture in his small room, but Alucard, like a ghost, passed through all obstacles.

Humming softly to the Roma music in his head, Alucard danced out his joy, delighting in his new appearance. The dance was courtesy of the many nights he spent by the fires of the Szgany. Undeterred by his dance partner's rejection, he shook his raven hair and returned to another age. It took the sight of his beloved Cassull to pull him from the bonfire dance. “Walter,” he said simply, never taking his eye off of the obscenely large caliber gun.

It always made Walter happy to see his gun smithing appreciated and no one appreciated his work like Alucard. “Would you mind coming down from my dresser?” The former No-Life King dropped soundlessly, as if his whole world was in Walter's hands.

“Ammo?” Alucard took the weapon, immediately aiming it at Walter's forehead. He was pleased at the lack of outward reaction from his old ward.

“The old silver magazines are all we have for now.” Ignoring the large caliber handgun, he opened a case, tossing four full clips to the vampire, never really sure where they went once Alucard caught them. “We'll need new ones made now that it's back in use.”

“Are they still potent?” Alucard stared down the barrel, as if the answer was one that could be seen. He recalled that each was made from melted down Eucharistic serving pieces, just a bit of the blessed silver in each. Could they actually lose holiness?

“You might try touching one, I suppose--” The sound of the gunshot in the small space made Walter jump out of his skin, especially since it had most recently been aimed at him. “Bloody Hell Alucard!” He pulled himself off the wall he'd been pressed into by the concussive effect. The 'bloody' vampire in question stood with a gaping hole where his stomach should have been and a smile on his face. “Jesus!” Alucard was behaving even stranger than he remembered.

“Lovely! Just lovely, Walter!” Delicious feelings swirled inside him as the holy silver fought his regenerative powers. He ignored the sound of humans running along the hallway. He had his gun back. Walter had taken care of it for him. He was complete again, first his coffin, then the gun. The old man could manage the damage control with his fellow agents. Alucard had the more important task of relishing his new life.

“No, no, just an accident.” Walter kept the door as closed as possible while reassuring the other men.

Another voice, “Take it to the range next time, Dollnez.”

Someone else, “Holy Shite, you could've killed one of us.”

“Oh dear,” Walter's smooth voice came back into the room, “trigger's just a bit too jumpy, yes I'll put it away until I can get to the shop.”

“You headin' out again, Walter?”

“Well, I'm following a hunch that Lady Hellsing had about the Scottish site. Just finishing my packing, then heading out. Flying this time, luckily. Good night.”

Men's voices continued to grumble in the hallway, but Walter shut the door and turned back to the grinning Alucard.

“I won't ask if you're happy now, clearly you are.” Walter's face was flushed with anger. “I also don't need to ask if you've eaten recently, clearly you have!”

Alucard threw him a wicked grin. “You held out on me with Bennett.”

“Now listen up, Midian!” Walter was as angry as he'd been in years, “He was a good man and he died well, I will hear no more about it.” The hole in Alucard's clothing was now fully healed, testimony to his powers. Walter pointed at the recent wound, pleased at the look of confusion that replaced Alucard's smugness. “A certain manic depressive woman with a history of suicidal attempts finally succeeded last night in Sheffield, train decapitation. Strange bit of news in the police report was that she didn't leave much blood at the scene...” A half smile played on the creature's lips, “oh, and there was evidence that she'd had a lover that night as well. No DNA evidence and no violence, but apparently she died a bit happier than she lived.” He tried to keep his feeling of justified anger, but Alucard's grin was getting broader. “Your M.O., wouldn't you say?”

“You pulled the report?” He tilted his head, his manic smile in place, “why?”

“I won't do it again! You strung me up and left me to answer her questions. Next time you'll have to account as well!"

Walter's raised voice drew a knock on the door. “Dollnez? What are you on about?” The rapping at the door jolted Walter out of his anger.

Smoothing his hair and regaining the calm that was what most people ever knew of him, Walter went to the door. “Nothing, Leung. Just yelling at the tele. I'm heading out now, though. Sorry to be such a bother tonight.” Before turning around, he knew Alucard was gone. Good, he sighed, he can damn well find his own way there.

Alucard found Integra in the hallway. He fell into step behind her, deciding not to appear until she sensed him. Integra stopped, turning her head back and forth, “Hullo?”

Unable to resist the temptation, Alucard formed his body along the back of hers, making her stumble to separate herself. “Orders, my Master?” He had to suppress a smile as she looked up at his low bow. Her body's reaction was all he needed anyway.

“Oh,” she forgot for a second that she didn't want him to be seen. “You're heading out, right? Um, with Walter?” Integra flinched from his look.

“Your orders, Master?” He stressed the second word, but she clearly didn't understand the arrangement. It's all right, he reminded himself, he had plenty of time.

Integra tried to interpret; this meant something to him. He stood in front of her, gloved hands behind his back in an almost regal pose. Suddenly it struck her that they were in the hallway near the back entrance where anyone could catch sight of them. Of course, the mansion was lightly staffed at night, but still she looked around for a room to move into.

“There are no humans near us, Master,” Alucard noted, trying to keep her on topic. “You've asked me to find targets and kill them, would you say those are my orders?”

“Do what you like,” from the moment the words left her lips, she knew they were wrong. The look in his weird eyes spoke of burning buildings and the Thames running red with blood. “No! No, that's not the order,” she waved her arms, feeling like a right idiot, “more like you said.”

He let a sigh shake his frame, though he had plenty of time before Walter would touch Scottish soil. “Master, your commands are the keys to my power. Your ancestors saw fit to lock it away from me using the control arts. I am granted limited access in order to complete the orders you give me. Do you understand now?” He spoke slowly, as if explaining to a child why the sky is blue.

Far from being annoyed by his manner, Integra was relieved. Finally, she felt, something was being explained. “By all means then, what command will let you finish the task at hand?” A chorus of howls began outside, near the stables.

“Search and destroy,” he smiled as she repeated his words. She was gullible enough to work with and his new persona helped lower her guard. He could easily complete the mission without tapping his reserve powers, but now he was assured fun. “Releasing control art restriction level three,” he was not so lost in his joy that he couldn't see Integra's face as she felt his voice reverberate in her head, "continuing until target is silenced." All pretense at secrecy was gone as his howling darkness filled the night sky.

Alucard immediately took points off them for lack of style. The industrial park lacked soul, showed no imagination. He allowed himself a chuckle at his own expense, perhaps expecting some grand castle. He stayed far enough away to avoid raising hackles. Even from a distance, the stench of decay was noticeable. Humans must miss it in the foul factory air that hangs over this section of town; he shook his head. There must be fifty or more ghouls, brought here, he imagined, otherwise agents would have found them due to sheer population loss.

As there was little external activity, Alucard allowed several of his eyes to turn inward, examining memories to trace the changes in Walter since he'd taken on the tasks that would otherwise have been given to the 'Hellsing pet.' The vampire was quite pleased with the results.

A lorry rumbled nearby and Alucard trained his senses on it. Packages within indicated human blood. Smart, he nodded, feeding your fledglings enough to keep them under control. They obviously wanted to stay hidden. The only question now was whether the large supply of blood meant they were stocking up or did they had a horde to feed? Please be the latter, he prayed. Instead of barging in to satisfy his curiosity, Alucard stretched his mind to find Walter. After a few moments he sensed the slow approach of a military vehicle.

The driver, under strict orders to cooperate fully with the old man, got out to open the door, but Walter was already out and running. “Sir? Is this where you... sir?” He saw a flash of red, but reminded himself that he wasn't paid to think, just to get back in the car and wait.

Walter kept sight of Alucard until they arrived at the address, then lost him in a sea of ghouls. He hoped the vampire would conserve bullets by letting Walter take point through the advancing tide, but his orders were moot before the battle began. The ghouls were a typical advance strategy among their foe, with lesser vampires following and only then would the main enemy show himself. This whole case had gone against type though, leaving Hellsing one step behind. At least tonight they hadn't packed up and fled before he arrived. Walter's calm, logical thoughts soon gave way to his instincts and the pure joy of killing.

Strings sang out as they whipped through zombie bodies, separating heads, torsos and arms. Male and female labels no longer applied to this type of undead. The turning of a vampire victim into a ghoul leaves a generic, hulking chunk of clothes-wearing flesh, nasty to smell and none too bright. He said a silent prayer for those whose defiled bodies he put down. Walter used his teeth to pull the cables back through more bodies. They were coming fast, Alucard must've rushed through, leaving him to fight more than he'd like to. No doubt the vampire was in a hurry to find more of his kind, ghouls not being much of a challenge to him. Walter smiled, it felt just like old times. He pulled back once more, aware that they were trying to circle him, but confident that he could tear them apart before any harm was done. Rudimentary tactics were within the brain capacity of these otherwise mindless drones, but he didn't rule out a vampire watching and directing the action. If Alucard would resist playing with the puppet master, this could be over with quickly. He heard the blasts from his handiwork as Alucard made his way through the hallways. Walter leaned back on his heels, purposefully losing balance as his arms circled, carving swathes of destruction and body parts around him. This was his dance.

The scene before Alucard took a few moments to comprehend, upended pine boxes, fleeing vampires and the smell of ashes. They were killing their own? How dare they! That was his fun. “Releasing control art restriction, level two,” he felt the shock again from Integra's mind and allowed himself a second to touch hers as she paced in her father's room, worrying for Walter and now her sanity. Arthur had truly taught her nothing. The pleasure that thought brought did nothing to assuage his anger at the cockroaches that scurried in front of him. Forming his ire into a burst of darkness, he blew apart the nearest intact vampire. Where the room had been filled with screams of confusion, anger and pain before, it now became eerily quiet. For every eye that now focused on him, Alucard presented one to stare right back at it.

In the silence one idiot came forward, forgetting that moments before he'd been fleeing his own mates, he now rushed at Alucard's form. The No Life King allowed himself a large grin at the upstart's courage. This one had had no time to develop any power besides hunger, so it was nothing to let him get close, let him draw blood, and it had the intended effect. A rush of fifteen young vampires made their way across the room. After crushing the head of the little brave one, he sent the body flying, dispersing dust in the faces of the coming ones. Pathetic, he thought, I might as well be playing with ghouls. He held his Casull loosely, his other hand signaling for them to hurry. “Don't forget, to say your prayers.” Several stopped and looked toward one doorway, near the back of the warehouse. Good, that's where they look for direction. Alucard felt a slight spark of hope. Casting his energies over their heads, he surged to the back room.

A stray thought wandered into Walter's consciousness, between the spaces he was using to calculate distance and wire length. I could use some help here. As he leaped atop a medical waste container to get over one pile of ghoul corpses and create another, his muscles longed to be back in his own little bed. This would be a mission to bring the army along on. Walter kept his back to the wall as he moved toward the next moaning mass of undead. If Hellsing had its own army, they wouldn't just be fodder for creatures that weren't supposed to exist... he'd think about this a bit more before suggesting it, there'd be dissent among his fellow agents. A two by four took his mind in another direction, mainly down with the rest of his body. Gritting his teeth, Walter tasted the blood that filled his mouth. He spat a glob out and prayed his nose wasn't broken, then pulled his knees up under himself and launched at his attacker, a silver line between his thumbs. Without its head the corpse collapsed, a slab of wood falling harmlessly at its feet, but Walter was already gone, making his way toward what he hoped was the last of the ghouls. He swore at himself for getting distracted.

Red mists swirled around the hapless vampire as he laughed, his goal still out of reach. The door in front of him had changed size, location and distance in the past few minutes. There were many things he couldn't understand about what went wrong, but they were all unimportant now. Even the emergency call to clear out the fledglings was unimportant. Escape was the only thing he could concentrate on. His laughter was shrill to his ears, fear overwhelming his body. “Unworthy,” the word came to his mind and found purchase there. He'd been unworthy of the holy obligation he'd been given. It was over now. “Unworthy,” the word rang out again, this time from the creature that the blessed door had become. A looming, red beast judging him like the Bible foretold. He had escaped that judgment when he was initiated, but now it stalked him as he ran. The elders anger was nothing to this nightmare he was living.

“Forgive me, please,” he pleaded as he fell to his knees. The creature kept its counsel, smiling and drooling at him. “I've tried, only just be understanding, it's not my fault.” If they'd given him any notice, he'd have cleared them all out to the safe vaults, not even ghouls to give them away. If only...

“No challenge!” The beast turned its back to him, finding him too pathetic to play with.

“No, wait,” he wasn't sure why, but it felt important to be found worthy in some way. When the Hell beast turned back to him, it was only a vampire that looked at him. Why had he been so scared? “I...”

“Yes? Speak quickly, fool.” Disappointment rang through the words.

Looking at the red clad demon opposite him, the cultist began to feel a surge of courage. The devil comes in many shapes, to deceive and tempt us, surely this was just a test, appearing as a vampire? “You, you've come for my soul?”

Alucard sneered his contempt, “your soul? Why would I want that piece of trash?”

“What, what do you... “ the vampire shrank into himself. “Who are you?”

“I smelled your foul blood on those creatures out there. Why? Why are you creating so many worthless-,” he couldn't bring himself to call them vampires, but the weakling interrupted, happy to have anything to please Alucard with.

“I, I, well, they had us, we... I'm not supposed to be telling anyone this,” he hid his eyes, finding a touch of courage if he didn't look directly at the devil. “I'm supposed to die before talking, but the plan is to-.”

Alucard considered and rejected the idea of mind raping or consuming the young vampire. From what the cowering idiot had already revealed, there were others pulling the strings and he'd have more fun teasing them out than having them handed to Hellsing. His direct order was search and destroy. “Then DIE!” The Cassull blasted several holes in the flailing body before dust flew. “Target silenced.” He knew she heard, but would not understand. It was tempting to leave, but he felt Walter out in the large room, his timing beginning to fail as the aging body tired.

Don't panic, she told herself. Integra walked down the stairs, one hand smoothing down stray hairs. I am not going insane. It must be some trick of that vampire. Her eyes barely saw the house around her as she walked along the hallway. How can his voice come, unbidden to my mind? She wanted answers, not more infernal questions! Her father kept certain weird books in his office, locked away. She changed direction, happy to have a goal.

“Evening Miss,” the accented voice startled Integra as she entered what was now her office. One of the agents moved around her desk, shifting papers into folders and marking them with notes. “You're up late, no?”

He was old, like all of the people around her, she realized. “Agent Pettrus, what are you doing here?”

“Well, we keep odd hours. That's to be expected.” Noting the confusion on her face, he added, “Oh, I thought you knew. I'm to be your new secretary, Miss.”

“Oh,” her face flushed with a rush of guilt over Mr. Bennett's death.

“It was in the note, he asked me to take over, after he, well Walter and he...” Pettrus looked away, toward the portrait of her grandfather that hung on the wall. He gestured as he spoke, “It was the custom, when I came on, that we should all be trained for house and Hellsing work. Make it look a little strange all these young men around with no job, see?” He smiled as she nodded, clearly thinking of other things. “Me, I do office and switchboard. Been a while, but I can take over. When I'm not in the field, no doubt.” There was a question at the end of that statement. All the agents wanted to know how she was going to be handing out assignments. He remembered the transition when her father officially took over and Walter was given the best jobs.

“Yes, I see,” she thought on what he'd said. Young men indeed! If they'd been young once, it wasn't clear now. She'd seen that plainly in the files. Pettrus had been with them since 1955, former communist military defector and most of the agents had likewise come on in the fifties and sixties. How would they recruit new agents? Picking on orphans and shell shocked veterans was the method her grandfather seemed to have used. He'd died years before Integra's birth, but she suspected that he must've been a right bastard, especially after she read Walter's file. The version she saw was heavily edited, she was sure and it still came off cruel. No wonder he'd become... She shuddered and focused back on Mr. Pettrus whose taciturn face was unreadable. “Yes, well I have a few things I need you to get started with.” She crossed to the desk. “Here's a list of tutors I'd like to schedule and I'll need continued practical training as well, guns, fencing and the like. Can you locate people we can trust for that?”

Another smile cracked across his broad face, threatening to challenge her image of him as a grumpy old man. “You have a staff full of trainers, Miss. I'll arrange it all for you.”

As grateful as she felt, Integra would've preferred if he would leave so she could scare up the old books she came for. She started opening all the drawers, as discreetly as she could.

Pettrus cleared his throat, “If I may Miss? What are you looking for?”

Integra almost told him, then checked that urge, “I think my father left a pocket knife in here, I'm just looking.” She gave him a 'I'm a silly kid' grin, just in case.

“Oh, yes, I expect he has a few things hid away in there. That drawer there was his humidor,” he pointed a white gloved finger at a drawer she thought held files. She slid it open to find a stash of cigars of different types. “Mind you, that may be part of what killed him, no?”

Integra nodded, that topic was too raw for words. The scent from the humidor brought her father's image to her mind so clearly it was as if he was there with her. She drew a long breath and closed it. Integra went on searching a bit more openly. In the time it took her to inspect every drawer, Pettrus had her desk under control, the piles were cleared, with case folders and boxes replacing the unmanageable mess. If she hadn't still felt so annoyed at not locating her father's keys, Integra might've kissed the agent, geezer or no. “Thank you, Mr. Pettrus.”

“Tom, please Miss, just Tom.”

Going from being the kid in the house to its lord was no easy thing. For one thing she had to relearn how to address everyone. “Tom,” she smiled. “And you can call me Integra, not Miss.”

He nodded, but his smile had faded. It was hard for all of them. “I have your schedule for tomorrow, Miss... Integra, but if I may, I think you'll have to call a meeting soon, Mis- I'm sorry, may I call you sir or ma'am or some such? It's that it's, well, I've been a soldier so long...”

“Yes, of course, 'sir' would be nice,” she thought about the status of her knighthood request, how long could they sit on that? Even her late uncle had an honorary knight title, not with the Royal Protestant Knights certainly, but a Companion of Honour for service.

“Yes, well, sir, I'd like to request you meet with us agents, formally, and let us know how things will go now. There's no place for rumors here.” His hard voice included a warning for her. There were only five active agents left, not counting Walter. Tom, for however long, was out of commission helping her and she had no plans in place for replacing them when they all needed to retire.

“Please do so, I'll speak with Walter in the morning, can we arrange for an afternoon meeting?”

“That's the best time for us... sir,” he picked up some boxes. “I'll take these down to storage then head on off to bed, I advise that you do likewise.”

She watched him head out of the anteroom door, “Thank you again, agent.” Her head was begging her to get to bed; she wondered if it would ever feel like it wasn't stuffed with cotton again. Tonight it was hurting as well. More vampire tricks?

“Not at all, my Master,” the voice rang through the room, but she couldn't place where he was.

“What are you doing in my head?” She swung her head around the room before finding him in a corner, cloaked in shadow. He rested on an armchair as if he'd been there all evening, one long leg crossed over the other at the knee.

He regarded her cooly before answering, “The bonds that tie me to your blood also tie you to me.”

Integra felt an almost hopeless feeling rise within her. She was shackled with this creature, this enemy, who could pry into her thoughts? Dear Father, why?

Alucard looked away, tracking a bat that flew out over the grounds. He sent a territorial message to it and received its confused submission in response. “You may believe me, Master, I have no interest in the goings on of a teenage girl's mind. I use discretion regarding our mental link.”

False bravado was all she had to fall back on. “Go away.” She saw him flick his glowing eyes at her, then back out the window. “Get back to wherever you go. Just go.”

“You don't need a report?” He showed mild surprise.

“You've already told me you killed your target and I'll hear the rest from Agent Dollnez,” she held to a cold tone, unsure what he could tell about how she felt. Before her final words had left her lips, he was gone. Integra glared at her grandfather's portrait. “Why?”

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Sweat rolled down Walter's body as he finished his reps. His body ached. Last night he'd faced more ghouls than he had in years. He was almost tempted to write up his kills like they used to do in the ready room; it must've been decades since they did that. Who had started that? Lyman was it? Long since gone, of course, fallen from a roof during a mission. Fallen or been thrown, either way the result was the same. It was testimony to the way things had calmed down that the only recent death was Bennett's. That or they had all gotten better over the years. The thought brought a smile to the Hellsing Trash man as he started another set.

The meeting with Integra had gone better than expected. His plan, still in its rough form, appealed to her. She'd been director for less than five days and she showed some brilliance. He'd always known she would, but he wished she'd had years to slip into the role. Arthur had wanted to pass along so much. Walter almost stopped his routine at the sudden stabbing in his heart, but after a moment decided that it was of the emotional not physical variety. Toughing through that pain was what they all had to do.

Last night's clean up had been satisfying, at least. Since the site was such a large one, with many ghoul corpses to deal with and hundreds of coffins to explain, he'd decided to torch the place. Alucard was wary, of course, but he seemed to enjoy the end result as much as Walter. The army handled damage control before civilians arrived. Destruction was limited to the infested warehouse, so all's well that ends well. He'd deal with the bruises and sore muscles as best he could. They'd taken down forty seven ghouls and he'd killed three lesser vampires. Alucard must've killed hundreds by the looks of the warehouse, plus the ten or so he took off of Walter. It was good having him back, problematic but good. He'd advised Integra to reconsider her veil of secrecy. He wasn't sure if any of the current agents had been aware of Alucard, he was not by nature a discreet creature. Still, not many went out on missions with him, back in the day.

Knowing his own limits, Walter decided to skip the next round through the gym. He passed Leung on his way to the showers. “Tough night, eh Walter?” Pat Leung was a compact, but powerful man. He'd come on when Walter was almost a twenty year veteran, but they got along well.

“The cultists didn't have time to flee this time. You've been to some of the nests they cleared out of, haven't you?” He watched the smaller man rub his bald head, smiling.

“Frustrating ain't it? At least you got to kill a few!” Leung reminded Walter of a shark sometimes, especially when he spoke of killing. The man had been through a bit of a rough patch in the seventies, crisis of conscious or drugs, or some such. He came out of it leaner and meaner.

Walter agreed and waved as he went to clean off. Perhaps he could recommend Pettrus get Leung to teach the girl some hand to hand as well as the meditating he did so much. Good for pain control as he'd taught Walter long ago. Integra would need that.

“Hey thar, Miss Integger. Sorry 'bout yer 'da,” the familiar face of the groom greeted her as she came back from a trot around the riding ring. Her father had loved hunting and made sure she could ride at a young age. She hoped Bennett had been wrong about getting rid of the horses. She could live without dogs, but horses? They had the family horses, even her mother's, and her father had a breeding program that she'd have to look into. An odd family memory struck her: It was years ago while her mother was still with her. They were sitting in the second floor study, Walter, she and her parents. Everyone was reading something and the adults were all smoking. Her father was telling Walter about a secret eugenics or some such Nazi thing that had just been excavated in Poland. It was a small news item, but he sounded so disgusted by it. Her mother chimed in that he didn't seem to mind experimenting on his own creatures. The men froze, her father's face in shock and Walter's was suddenly blank. What struck Integra was how out of proportion their reaction was. Her mother felt it too as she asked, “What? Your breeding program, with the horses?” Everything went back to normal at that, but it creeped her out to see her father so taken off guard.

“Hullo, Skip!” She wondered why he was watching her so carefully as she jumped from the saddle. Her horse snorted at her and she rubbed the mare's neck in a friendly way. Then again, everyone on the staff was worried about her, it seemed. “Yeah, thanks.” She was still wearing dark colors, although her riding clothes didn't reflect that. She'd change into her mourning dress before the scheduled meeting. Integra turned her attention to the leather straps on her saddle, startled when she heard him speak again.

“If thar's anythan'...” he stopped, red faced. His thick accent came mainly from his dad, he'd been raised right here on the mansion grounds, but his father was from the north. There'd been a connection between the families that Skip had only heard hints of. Some help that the Hellsings had provided in the past. His dad was a loyal man and there was no complaining about the lowly nature of barn work. Skip hoped to be a great trainer, but if he stayed here his whole life, he wouldn't mind that either. Especially now that Integra was getting older. Last year, he'd wouldn't have paid her any mind. She'd just been the kid. Good with horses, but not exceptionally so. Now?

“Oh, thank you,” she blushed too, not sure why. He was only a few years older than she. Maybe that was it? He was almost the only young face on the mansion grounds. There was a waiter in his twenties inside the house as well, and the staff children who came now and then when their parents couldn't find sitters, but that was all. Skip wasn't really handsome, just plain in a pleasant way. He had red hair that tended toward the unruly and his chin was a bit weak. Sometimes he tried to grow facial hair, but she expected that his father made him shave. “Um, well. I'll just put Bennie back...”

He moved to help her as she led the gray mare to the stall. Fresh hay and feed had been set out, and Bennie seemed anxious to get to it. Pulling the tack off with Skip's help, Integra shook her hair out of her helmet and watched as his eyes followed the movement. This was new. It seemed warm in the stables now. It had been cool before, but there was too much heat in the small stall, so close together. She didn't want to run, but neither could she tarry with him, be alone with him. “I'd better get back, can you do the brush and curry?” Integra knew about puberty, she'd had the bleeding starting last year, but she'd never felt anything for Skip before. She felt his eyes on her as she headed back to the mansion and she wasn't sure how she felt about that.

Alucard awoke quickly, as he always did. After drawing some stored power from his domain, he searched the building for his master. Following her anger last night, he wanted to keep his contact limited. That plan changed once he heard her addressing questions from the agents. There was a question concerning himself? Temptation is a harsh mistress. If pushed away, she often redoubles her efforts. It is best to give in to her early and often. At least, that was the thought fueling his smile as he emerged behind Integra in the large meeting room.

To their credit, the agents all kept their cool. Several weapons were drawn, but Walter motioned for everyone to sit back down. Alucard came around her and made a big show of bending to her on one knee, his head bowed. “My Master.” She played her part, although he felt her fear. This time it was not his nearness that disturbed her, but the public performance of his servitude. He heard her swallow hard.

“Alucard. These are the men who serve Hellsing. Each and every one of them is under your protection, you are not to harm them.” She spread her arms to encompass the room and he took advantage of her right hand, gripping it to himself as he rose and looked out at them. She kept her cool, though he could feel tentative tugs as he stood next to her.

He kept his form as normal as possible, even down to dulling the glow of his eyes. The men clearly mistrusted him. He felt open hostility from several and open curiosity from one. They all looked to be younger than Walter but not by much. Alucard smiled, keeping all but his fang tips hidden. He looked each man in the eye, trying to decode their anger towards his presence from their anger at Integra's new plans. She could easily change her orders to him if they needed to cull the herd. Walter had proven himself capable of removing dangers without guilt. Alucard released Integra's hand as she was again pulling, in what she'd hoped was a discreet manner, causing her to bump into Walter, who had stepped back into line with them once he was certain no one would start an unfortunate fight.

“Likewise,” she was pleased to see Mr. Pettrus smiling in an encouraging way at her, “you all will form the core of our commanding officers and I'm asking you to set the example of respecting Alucard's expertise at combating the undead.” There were some polite coughs that expressed dissension, then silence until one of the larger men stood up.

“With all due respect, Miss, I've been killing filth like him for twice the years you've been alive. Now you want me to work with one?” He shook his head.

Integra tried to pull up his file in her mind. “Reggie” Reynolds, age 50, joined up about thirty years ago. Solid in the field, favored a combination of axe and pistol. Not the sort she'd want on a sensitive mission, like taking out a vampire near civilians, but Walter spoke well of him. She liked the way he challenged her with what they all must be thinking. She looked up at Alucard, but his mask was firmly in place, he didn't seem to be reacting to the insult. “Imagine having one of the most powerful weapons against them and not using it,” she reasoned. “Alucard is bound to this family and follows my orders, just as you all do.” There was some shifting among the men. A quick look at Walter showed some strain on his face as well. Maybe that was the wrong tack to take, but it was the way she felt it had to be. I can't treat these men as friends or equals, they have to respect me, she reasoned, child though I may be. Integra crossed her arms, daring someone else to speak.

From the corner of his eye, Walter watched Alucard most carefully. His orders were clear, none of these men were to be harmed. The seals should keep him from doing anything against the agents, but Walter had his silver wires laced and ready.

“Lady Hellsing,” a small man began. She remembered him as Patrick Leung, originally from Hong Kong, orphan, brought in due to his excellence in martial arts and an unfortunate run in with the Hellsing crew as they cleared out a nest near his neighborhood. “I applaud your vision of Hellsing with a paramilitary army, but I have severe reservations about your relationship with... Well, you are young and haven't dealt with them, but vampires, they're not, I mean, you can't-”

“I can and I will!” Integra exploded with anger. Her fist shook at the older men, “don't patronize me. I've seen this beast in action.” Her finger pointed up at the vampire. “I am alive because of him! He will serve Hellsing and you will get over that. If you can't, you can just walk right out that door.” She crossed her arms and stared down the larger men. It took all of the agents and Walter by surprise, but Alucard chuckled quietly, a satisfied grin spreading across his face. No one moved for some time. From the back, hands began to clap. Integra wasn't sure who started it, but soon they all stood clapping, some less enthusiastically than Mr. Pettrus. “Right then, dismissed.” She turned and exited, Alucard close behind.

“Well done, Master,” he said once they were in her office. He felt her annoyance at the compliment, did she consider it condescending? He would leave it for now. “May I inquire about your new army?”

She swirled to face him, her anger from last night tied with her burst of confidence from the meeting. “Why don't you drag it out of my mind, then!” In the silence that followed, the intercom on her desk chirped into life.

“Integra, darling, it's tea time. Are you there?”

Her finger lingered over the button for just a second before, “Yes, Mary?”

“Would you like me to bring it up to you or will you join me in your study? I wouldn't normally impose, but I've been over your projected schedule and I think we should-”

Integra picked up the line, “I'll be down to join you in a few minutes. Thank you.” She turned back to the vampire, his face partially obscured by his shoulder length hair.

“Sir Hellsing, you wound me.” He was impressed that she kept eye contact this time, despite how it unnerved her.

“Well, if you must know, the men are aging and I don't want to have to depend on you so much that I can't keep control over you,” honesty, she'd read, was very important to vampires. She couldn't find her father's books, but that didn't keep her from reading as much as she could find last night. She was rewarded with what seemed to be a genuine smile on his face. “Now, if you'll excuse me?”

He nodded, “Orders, my Master?”

She stopped walking to the door and considered. “Would you mind going over the events last night and those papers on my desk to see if you can find a pattern? I'll be back from tea in an hour and we can discuss it then. Please don't leave the grounds until we talked.” She turned to leave and missed his low bow.

“My pleasure, Master,” he said to the air after she'd left. Still, he knew she heard.

Tom Pettrus was not a small man, but he jumped as quickly as a gymnast when the call came in. “Three limousines? Yes, by all means, let them in!” The security company that manned the front gate should know that by now, he thought. His body was already in motion, running down the hallways to alert Integra. Walter was opening the study door as Pettrus tried to slow down, causing a minor collision that they both were too distracted to care about. “The Knights,” he huffed, but the look on Walter's face told him he needn't of rushed.

“Come in, Tom. I was just alerting Integra to their unscheduled visit,” he didn't want to scare her or upset the governess as the two finished dinner. He couldn't have avoided the first and the latter presupposed that Mary had enough brains to worry over such matters.

“Ah, Tom, good you're all here, the very people I need to change-” Mary stopped as Walter raised one hand, palm out.

“This is not the time. My Lady, we are needed in your office immediately,” he could imagine what the governess would be on about. No doubt she wanted Integra to cut back on her schooling. The girl would be ruined by bad advice, now was not the time to slow down. He knew what it was to lose everything in one stroke. She needed focus. She needed challenge and she'd be getting that in spades. “Pettrus, please go to the door and give us a few minutes before Patel escorts them in.” There was a slight tensing in both Integra and Tom at his tone, but he brushed that aside. “Go.”

Soon Mary was the only one left, sitting bewildered in an empty room.

Alucard lay back on the gravelly rooftop. The lights of the city kept his view from being all he remembered, but the sky was beautiful none the less. He relaxed his form and his mind, taking in all he could of the swirling activity around him. The world outside the mansion was in the first bloom of night. Creatures went on about their routines, living and dying as they should. Within the walls, his master fretted with her minders. Silly child!

He felt the comings and goings of the staff. A familiar pang reminded him that he wasn't to leave the grounds. It wasn't that he was hungry, Alucard dismissed hunger altogether. He'd eaten quite well of late. Having gone almost twenty years between meals, he'd made a vindictive point of eating. There was even a pack of medical blood in his pocket from the lorry he'd raided the night before. Truth was that he could go months between meals without damage, any mature vampire could. No, the pang was deeper. It was servitude itself that pained him. Still, she had such potential! He chuckled at himself, perhaps I am that 'fickle creature,' as her ancestor called me. He rolled his body up and rose to another perch.

Bringing the case she'd asked him to think about to mind, he was quite certain that there were several vampires involved. Perhaps one would be a challenge, but probably not. The quality of their recruits, and hence their judgment, pointed in the other direction. Unraveling their work would give him pleasure, though. There was solace in that. He'd wait until the three Knights left before approaching her again. Like a statue he sat, filtering through the sounds of the night.

“...with Walter Dollnez in charge, in a caretaker capacity until your eighteenth birthday. The vampire, Alucard can be released at that time, if you so choose.” The report smacked her desk as the man finished.

Integra quickly surveyed the room. Pettrus stood behind her, a frown creasing his face. She'd figured out earlier that he was no fan of Walter. Standing next to her, Walter's face was unreadable. For years she'd seen that look on his face and was no closer to figuring it out now. She knew from his personnel report that he'd been trained as a butler and valet, so perhaps that was part of his training, that non-look? The three men who faced her, the ones that would take Hellsing from her, looked smug and certain. They talked to Walter, in fact, dismissing her altogether. A thought nestled itself inside her throat and stuck there, maybe Walter wants this? No. Impossible. Or was it?

“For the time being, then,” Sir Islands said as he picked up his briefcase.

“Sir Hellsing?” Walter turned to her, eyebrows raised. Isn't she going to stand up for herself, he wondered. He could see the shock and anger, but where was the reaction? She had defended herself admirably with the agents and the fact that she was not yet drinking herself into a stupor meant she must be handling Alucard well, better at least than Arthur. Her eyes met his briefly before she turned back to the men, the blue skies reflected pain and a part of him winced.

“You have decided this?” Integra wasn't surprised to see the bobbing heads of the men standing. She was spared some moments as her butler entered, carrying a tray of tea and biscuits. Pettrus relieved him of it, but the social burden remained. The Knights were clearly not here for a social call, but to send the tray back would be a faux pas. She waved her hand at the treats, but no one moved.

“Really, Integra, we're doing this for you,” Sir Jacob Bolcom, one of the younger men on the Convention of Twelve, said somberly. “You don't know the difficulties and you would be better served improving yourself at this age.” Bennett's report revealed Bolcom to be one of the men who supported her uncle's attempt to take control of Hellsing, although there was no reason to think he wanted her dead. Still, he clearly didn't want her in charge.

“We promised your father we'd look after you,” Sir Grayson Newcastle tried for a friendly look. “I have girls of my own and wouldn't wish this duty on anyone, much less a thirteen year old.”

That is exactly the wrong thing to say, thought Walter with a swallowed smile. He watched as her dusky skin went two shades darker.

“My Father,” Integra bit off each word, spitting them back out at the ones who would take her birthright away, “put me in charge. Personally. On his deathbed. Who are you to take that away?”

“Yes, well. I think we've all been given a bit to think about, don't you?” Sir Islands shrank back with the other men, “We'll have a formal round table on Monday. That way, we can get you back in school next term and all will be well.” The middle aged Knight turned to Walter, “see to the vampire, Walter.”

“This way, gentlemen,” Mr. Patel's deep voice resonated back into the office.

Integra still stood, almost forgetting how to breathe. “W... Walter?” She turned to look at him as her secretary came up on the other side of her. “Can they do that?” She let Tom help her sit once Walter nodded, his face thoughtful. She knew that of course, they ran England, they could do most anything.

“Where is Alucard?” Walter asked. “We'll need-”

“No!” The force of her fist hitting the desk propelled her out of her seat, empty teacups clinking as they jumped about. “That I won't allow! No! I am responsible and I won't let you do it.” Her body spoke of barely contained anger, more than she had mustered when her directorship was threatened.

“My Lady, no-”

“You heard her, Dollnez, now why don't you get out?” Pettrus moved to open the hallway door.

Momentarily shaken, Walter walked towards it. “Miss Integra?” He felt stung by the wariness in her look. She said nothing, but pointed. Since he had been her age, he'd served the Hellsings. Did she think he'd suddenly change? He sighed, she needed time, though there was precious little of that now. “As you wish, my Lady.” Walter bowed as he exited.

Pettrus contained himself well enough not to slam the door behind the Trash man, but was caught by surprise as Alucard chose that moment to enter. He solidified through the same door, though in fact he'd been observing for a few minutes.

“Sir Hellsing,” his senses were on alert, watching the large man who lurked behind as well as the petite girl in front of him.

“It doesn't look like I will ever be now,” there was just a trace of humor in her voice as she pointed at the slim book on her desk. She plopped back into her father's chair and watched as the vampire absorbed the information, flipping pages with gloved fingers. Sealing him away was wrong, no matter how annoying he could be. There was an aching in her chest at the very idea. He was hers, even more than Hellsing was. The organization belonged to the nation, to the monarch and could be disbanded at a whim. She'd gotten upset about being tied to him by blood, but the connection was all she could really call her own. Integra felt the shifting of Mr. Pettrus as he came to stand behind her. No doubt he'd have knives readied. Paranoia, her father had explained, was a useful trait in the agents and they were always armed. As a child he'd warned her of trying to play too much around them. Except for Uncle Walter... now a second traitorous uncle. Perhaps her father had bad judgment?

Alucard held the report, “This does not preclude your knighting, Sir Hellsing, only postpones it.” He knew that to a child, five years might as well be fifty. “It seems like a fair plan to help you gradually take command.” He let his inflection rise, indicating that she could argue with him if she chose.

“I do not have the leisure to take command slowly, Hellsing is mine and I must run it.” Integra felt the nervousness of her secretary again as Alucard moved around the desk. “Tom, would you take the tray back, I don't think anyone will be needing more tea tonight.”

Alucard stepped back to let the large man pass, then wandered to look out the window. He enjoyed the man's discomfort as his decision played out on his face, to stay and protect Integra or get the hell away from the vampire. One could hardly fault the poor agent for taking the tray. “I'll be right back, sir.”

Integra turned to the vampire, leaning against the large windows. “But what of you? What would you have me do? I can't let them put you away... again.”

There was an unspoken question in there, one he'd leave alone for the time being. The question burned in her mind. He'd let her father explain the imprisonment, if ever she found the journals. “You needn't trouble yourself over me. Think of your own desires.” He went as near to her as he could without making her nervous. He noted that got him closer than it had before. Good, she was getting comfortable with him. “You have friends?”

She nodded sullenly, opening a drawer full of cards, “these are some from my schoolmates.” She pulled some of their names up in her mind, but most of their faces remained elusive.

“Don't you want to see them again? Enjoy your classes? Play sports with girls your age? Dance with boys?”

“Of course I do!” Her shout drew a smile from him and she realized he'd been baiting her, playing devil's advocate. Time to try a different tack. “Do you think Walter will run Hellsing better than I can?”

The vampire shrugged, “Probably, but it's not Hellsing I care for, child.”

Her heart lurched. His vermilion eyes held no rancor, no teasing. He looked at her with a look that she might give to Bennie after a good run. Integra looked down, blushing slightly. His words hung in the air. What would a vampire care for, aside from killing and chaos? She was getting better at reading him, was this a good thing? She wasn't sure. She must be reading too much into this, assuming a vampire could care for anything but blood. Back to the point at hand, “Why would Walter turn on me? Power?”

Alucard tossed the Convention of Twelve's advice in the trash can. “What makes you think he has?” He walked around, moving to the corner chair he liked, the one with a direct view outside.

Integra walked closer. “Well,” she paused, biting her lip, “he stands to gain from their plan. It didn't come as a surprise to him and he is close to the Knights. He told me about working for them when he prepped me before Father's funeral.”

“I work for Hellsing because I am enslaved, bound.” His gaze made Integra step back, the muted anger in those orbs wasn't in his voice, but it was real. She felt it. “Why does Walter work for you?”

“He... It's all he's ever... for my father and... But Uncle Richard also worked for Hellsing!” Her eyes shone with the hurt she felt. Twice betrayed by the men she grew up with. No, she would resist this. School was something she was prepared to give up. Childhood was something she was prepared to give up. Hellsing was not.

“Hold your friends close, and your enemies closer, Master,” he smiled at her, watching emotions play in her large azure eyes.

“Like you?”

He was enjoying this discussion much more than the one he'd come to have, about the case at hand. Yes, he'd lived by that motto, both in his human days and in his unlife. As a no-life King, his first wife had been such an enemy, a vampire bent on beating down the 'upstart' in the Carpathian mountains. Beautiful creature, but that was not why he'd courted, broken and wed her. He kept her where he could control the damage she would do to him. Centuries later, her last reproof to him had been that he didn't love her anymore. Of course, he had never loved her. Still, he mourned her loss as he did the loss of his other wives and the dear ones he lost too soon, Lucy and Mina. All lost to the great grandfather of the child before him, the child who felt such a deep sense of ownership of him. It touched him. “Yes, my Master. It is safest to keep counsel with your enemies, to hold them close so that they can do little harm to you. Bide your time, then claim your rightful place.”

Integra sighed as she rose and walked to the door, “Then I suppose I should speak with Walter.”

Arthur Hellsing had very specific ideas about running a civilized killing organization. For example, Integra knew he was particular about the housing of the agents, rejecting their dormitory style rooms in favor of revamped servant housing. He also abhorred cubicles, so each agent had a small office near the communication rooms. She'd been privy to dinner conversations in which costs came up and he'd firmly denounced such measures as self defeating. “What is saved in money is wasted in terms of morale,” he'd said. That was why she stood outside the open door of Walter's office rather than eavesdropping near a cubicle. She could've patched into the switchboard to listen, but she was here to speak with him directly. So she stood silently and listening in on his private conversation.

“You're a short timer yourself, Ferguson, right?” He paused, pleased at how helpful the General had been. “You may want to consider moving over here, once your term is up. Pretty hard for our lot to think of days on the links, eh?” He listened, flipping through a notepad full of names as the old soldier thought out loud about various retirement ideas. “You'd be in on the start of things here, though, that's one consolation. You'd be in charge of getting things done, not like the army. Our leader is young, open to change, I think you'd like her.” He didn't want to hard sell the position, but this officer would be a catch for a small paramilitary. “Thanks, you too and keep in touch, thanks again for the list.” He leaned back in his chair, removed his monocle and rubbed the bridge of his nose before speaking. “You may feel free to enter, Miss Integra.”

She almost jumped, but composed herself before moving into the doorway. “So, you knew I was there?” Had he complemented her just now knowing she was listening?

“Of course, Miss. It's part of what you pay me for, isn't it? I may not have a vampire's senses, but I can smell your perfume. Now, how may I assist you?” His voice sounded tight, all business. His hand gestured toward the chair behind him, but she remained standing. Mary should be proud, he thought, her posture's perfect.

“Right,” she'd come to apologize, but her suspicions wouldn't let go, “so you're lining up your army?”

“Yours, my Lady,” he clenched back his ire, remembering her youthfulness. “Even in the worst case scenario, I'd only be watching Hellsing while you studied.” He raised his hand to stop the storm he saw brewing on her pretty face. “But it is hardly certain that it'll come to that. I have some ideas, if you'd be so kind as to hear them this time?”

Integra prided herself on knowing when to close her mouth. As he'd said, she paid him, at least for the time being, she might as well listen. She inclined her head, but before he could begin, another agent came running up the hallway.

“Walter! Are you on the Vax?” They had a computer network to share information within the organization, though it was pretty slow. “Oh, hello, Ms. Hellsing.”Agent Leung focused on her as he neared the office. “Am I interrupting, Walter?” He didn't look unhappy about it if he were.

Walter waved his hand, dismissing concern, “What is it?”

Leung handed him a strip of computer paper, its perforations torn in the excitement. “Your mole is finally paying off! He's intercepted this and, as you can see, it's promising.”

“Or a trap,” Walter muttered and Leung's grin widened as he watched Walter read the papers.

Integra watched the men interacting in a way she usually didn't get to see. Walter did have a sense of command with the other agents, she thought. He was comfortable with them, but that was to be expected, they relied on each other in the field. She wouldn't be able to have that unless she was one of them. They discussed strategy as she stood, feeling left out. She perked up as Walter reached for the phone again.

“This is Father Baker, is an Emily McMillan there? Oh, well I'm pleased to catch you at home. Yes? Well, some friends asked me to call; you had some questions? Yes, that's him.” Walter was writing a name and passing the note to Leung who shrugged his shoulders. “So when would you like to... no, I don't think this is the sort of thing I can discuss here, on the phone. Yes, I see, well as it happens, I was headed there tonight... after a meeting, would you like to- Yes, that might be nice, a touch of food would be lovely.” He was internalizing his act, as he always had to. Soon he'd begin to feel peckish, despite having eaten earlier. “Yes, well I'll look for you there, then. Goodbye, Emily.”

Leung let out a long breath as Walter hung up the phone. “Quick work, that. So, if it's a trap?”

Walter turned to Integra, who thought she must've been forgotten. “I'll need to borrow Alucard, if that's alright?” He was careful with his request, trying to sound less demanding.

Integra couldn't help digging it in, “What would you do if he were locked away?” She noticed Leung's lip had curled up at the mention of the vampire, but he composed himself.

Walter sighed. “I didn't suggest... never mind, if he weren't here, I'd wear a microphone and have two men to back me up. We can do this on our own, but with Alucard, I won't need a wire. That's a benefit in a soft interrogation. Do you understand, Miss?”

Anger filled her, but she choked it back down. He was trying to explain methods and she needed that; she should appreciate it. “Yes,” she forced herself to add, “thank you, Walter.” She turned to go, but he put a hand on her elbow to stop her.

“Pat, check on this person, see how long she's been at this number, is she registered as a student, the usual. Try to match up that new name with anyone we've contacted. Thanks for the lead. Cheers.” He noticed Leung's annoyance as he left. The agent had expected to tag along and get some action, but Walter felt more comfortable teaming with a vamp. Well, that was the truth, and Alucard could follow him easier, provided the vampire didn't get distracted. “I'm sorry, my Lady, but we were about to discuss strategies regarding the proposition from the Knights?”

“Strategies?” Her voice was high and tight. She tried to bring up Alucard's advice, but all she could think of was Walter shipping her off to school with the vampire bound in the basement.

Walter watched her, his face blank. She was not taking this well, he noted. Silence hung between them for a second while Walter considered letting her leave so he could get on with his night's work. “Miss Hellsing,” he finally began, “I would not presume to give you advice, but it may be a good idea for you to push ahead with finding and crushing this cult so that you can present it to the Protestant Knights at a formal hearing. With Alucard and myself behind you, I think they would have to back down. Also, they can only force you to attend school for the next three years, after which, they would be hard pressed to keep you from heading Hellsing.”

“But, this is an-”

“Yes, my Lady, this is a most important time and I support your leadership, if you could please understand that I am not-” He stopped to lower his voice, which he realized had gotten loud enough to carry down the hallway, “I'm not interested in leading Hellsing.”

Integra wanted to believe him, but she had a recent memory of her uncle, who was “just helping out for the first few days” and then tried to off her once she asserted herself. Funny that she felt immense guilt over the dwarf secretary's death, a man she'd loathed, but no guilt over the death of her uncle, a man she'd always thought she loved. She shook her head, trying to get the images of both men out. “I'm sorry Walter.” She turned to go and he let her. I'm sorry you're betraying me, was the part she wouldn't speak, not to him, not yet.

A man stood around in the shadows outside the busy pub. Perhaps it would be more accurate to say that the shadows stood around the man. “Trap?” The man whispered, inaudible to anyone on the street, but the shadows moved, almost as a caress before he heard an answer.

“There is no activity that I can sense,” the answer came, disconcertingly close to his ear. He felt a light touch, from the lobe of his ear, down his neck. It drew a shiver, but no other external reaction.

The conservatively dressed gentleman stepped out into the light, with what he hoped was a friendly look on his face. As he entered the pub, Walter looked around for the woman he'd spoken with. He saw her, in a back booth, as they'd agreed, looking much like she'd described. She was young, but she wore a world weary expression. She jumped as he sat down across from her. “Oh! I'd thought you wouldn't come.”

“Why would you think that?” He extended a hand, “Father Timothy Baker, at your service. Would you like a card?” She took the offered card, it listed a number that rang at Hellsing, but wouldn't be identified as such. It also listed his work as vicar in a small parish where there had been ghoul attacks.

She gave it the briefest of glances before settling herself back into the booth. “I'm a bit confused,” she gave him a shy smile and shrugged her shoulders.

“This is a big decision,” he agreed. “You've asked for spiritual advice, how can I assist you?”

She had a pretty enough face, eyes a bit widely spaced for conventional beauty, but he could see she'd tried to compensate for that with her makeup. Her hazel eyes seemed to appraise him back. She smiled. “Well, I've been reading some of the pamphlets I got at church, kind of a lark that I found them.”

Walter chuckled lightly as though he knew. He signaled the waitress for a beer. She nodded and he turned back to Emily. “We don't keep those out most of the time, how did you come across one?” It was easy to fit into the act, the nagging voice warning him of a trap was silenced in order for him to believe the character he created.

“There's a lending library in our undercroft,” she sipped her drink. He noted she drank the sort of drink that one unaccustomed to hard liquor might favor, something fruity, but packed with a punch. Those are best for putting additives in, should he need to. He nodded for her to continue as she seemed to be a bit uncomfortable. “Well, I shouldn't have been just poking through, but the geriatric sorts of books?” She stopped when the waitress set his drink down, then started again in a whisper. “The ones about when to pull the plug and such? My mum, you see, she's a bit... off now. We put her in a home, but... I've been wondering about such like.”

A million ways to follow up occurred to him, but Walter took a drink to keep from putting her off.

“I just pulled a black book from the shelf, and there it was!” She did a little 'ta da' gesture with her hands. She giggled. Walter worried about how long they could stay in public. If she got too drunk, he'd have a problem on his hands. “It was like a revelation, just waiting for me to find it!”

No doubt, thought Walter dryly, but what he said was, “How lucky for us! We need people like you.” He was rewarded with a beaming smile. She covered her mouth, embarrassed. There was a space between her front teeth. He thought it was cute, but people could be sensitive about anything he supposed.

“How long have you been...” she wasn't sure how to phrase it, “with them?”

He laughed heartily. “Well, I've been in the church since I was a child, but with them, maybe it's been a decade.” One of the keys to keeping a straight face when lying was to laugh ahead of it, so that the person you're lying to is too busy wondering if you're laughing at them or yourself to see the clues sitting in front of them.

“Oh,” she looked around, as if noticing the crowded pub for the first time. “Would you like to, um, come up to my place; I have more questions, but maybe we shouldn't, um...”

His shoulders almost tensed, but he used a quick mental trick to keep himself relaxed. If this was the spring to the trap, he was well prepared. He'd packed a kit bag, which Alucard stashed somewhere, and he had his killing wires on. The rings were unobtrusive and in fact, some girlfriends had asked for matching ones. “Well, I don't want to keep you up too late, you probably have work in the morning?”

She shook her head, “naw, day off. I work in a little office, but we work the weekends, so we get days off every few weeks.” Her eyes were puffy from lack of sleep, but she seemed to push that worry off with a shy smile.

“If it's no trouble for you, then, I'd love to continue our discussion,” he allowed. He helped her into her coat. “Do you still have the booklet? I'd like to see it.” He watched her fish through her pockets, but she came up empty. “No bother, then.”

“I think it's at my flat,” she smiled a little broader, this time without covering her teeth. He rewarded her with his most charming look. Yes, he thought, this was probably a set up for a trap. Still, she was nice to be with until then. They walked along the late night street. The night time crowd had thinned down to trickles streaming now and then from the various pubs and clubs around Cambridge.

Emily grabbed his arm to keep her balance as they crossed a small alleyway, but kept a hold of him for some time after. Considering they'd just met, he was a bit taken aback, but he played his role. He sensed some nervousness as they entered her building. She seemed to be looking at it through his eyes. “It's a bit shabby now, but it used to be quite grand.” She fumbled with her keys in the lock. His wires were ready as soon as she moved to open it, but he quickly moved his hands down once the door opened and there was no ambush. “Sit anywhere,” she laughed as she put her coat away. There were no chairs, just cushions on the floor and a futon bed in the center of the messy efficiency. He looked over to the small kitchen, there was a stool up against the counter, but that didn't look like a cozy place to chat, more like a utilitarian place to slurp soup.

Well, this is awkward, Walter thought. She blushed as she closed the closet door, “I don't entertain, as you can see.” She pushed aside some books and cleared off a cushion for him. “Oh, here's the little book.” She handed him the pamphlet as he sat.

“This is the church?” He read the name stamped onto the back and she nodded, smiling. The cracking in his knees caused them both to laugh, “I'm not as young as I used to be,” he mock apologized.

“Have you...” she paused, “I mean, when will you join them? You know, the Risen?”

“Well, I do my share,” he had to duck around, hoping she knew less about them than he did. “Do you have anything to drink?” She was already rising, nodding her head and smiling. He was pleased to see her wobble just a touch as she reached the tiny kitchen. If no monsters jumped out of her closets, he should have her talking and be gone in no time.

She chatted on as she returned, bottle in one hand and glasses in the other. It was a cheap white wine, not his first choice, but he received it warmly. “They seem awfully interested in... well, you know already, but... they asked about my maidenhead,” she giggled and he joined her in a smile. She looked almost sly as she asked, “how important is that, Father?”

“Please, call me Tim,” since they were talking about such intimate subjects, “it's less a theological than a biological problem, truth be told.” He knew the vampire's minions used fancy terms to disguise the fact that they would kill her and turn her into a killing demon. In fact, they denied the existence of vampires entirely. “The ritual is easier if one is untouched, but it is possible, by preparing the initiate properly, to change anyone.” It was also easier if the creature doing the changing happened to be very powerful, like Alucard, or whoever it was that changed him in the first place. Vlad Dracula had lost his virginity in every sense well before he became a true monster. “Who did you speak to?” Once she'd named the contact, he nodded his head, like he knew the man. “Yeah, that's the way some of them think. It would be easier if you were virgin, but really, it's not worth eliminating anyone for. Is there anything you'd like to share with me about your concerns?” She was drinking two for every one glass he had.

“Well, I said I was, but there was this bloke in high school. No shagging,” she blurted with a blush, “but there was... you know... messing about. I didn't know if it was a big deal. But if it's not that important...”

Degrees of virginity... Her soul hung in the balance. She was considering joining a vampire cult and she had no idea. Walter tried to stay detached, he could use her to get to the entry level folks, at least. If she were bit, she'd either be a ghoul or a weak vampire. Of the two, he'd personally prefer to be a ghoul. At least their souls go on, usually. They're not responsible for the actions done with their corpses. Not so the vampire.

“So you know the Risen ones? You've been with them?” She had such honest reverence on her face that he wondered how much longer he could keep up the act. “We can really defeat death? Like Jesus?”

Luckily Walter had heard such talk from their converts before, so he avoided breaking out in laughter, “Oh yes, I've been quite close to them. It is, perhaps an overstatement to compare them to Jesus,” he could imagine the size of Alucard's grin. “You need to make an educated decision, though. Are you scheduled? Do you know when they want to... turn you?” He had to guess at their language, but she didn't flinch, so he mustn't have been too far off.

“This Sunday coming up, so you can see why we needed to talk right away,” she looked dreamily into her wine, then finished her glass.

“Where?” He'd spoken too sharply. Suspicion drifted across her face and she wrinkled her nose as her befuddled mind tried to think. He laughed it off. “I've been invited to serve at three inductions this weekend, I'd like to be at yours, so I was wondering where it was being held.”

Her tension eased, “Oh, yeah, they're picking me up so I'm not sure... I think a church would be nice, maybe a cathedral...” her dreamy self returned, along with a sly, almost sexual look.

“Have they talked about the spiritual implications, yet?”

She moved closer to him, grabbing the bottle that sat between them. Her hand brushed along his knee, as if she was fascinated by the texture of the wool. “Well, there's the communion, the holy blood of Christ...”

Walter leaned back ignoring her touch. The cushions were actually pretty comfortable as long as he didn't need to stand up and sit down rapidly. “It's a bit more literal than you may be used to. Do you think you could handle the transmutation if the wine becomes true blood? Human blood?”

She rose, clearly drunk now. “I'd do anything to skip the decline, the death I see on my mother's face.” She stood over him and stumbled slightly. “I've got to go to the loo. If you wanna,” she gestured at the bed, it's crumpled duvet testifying to her poor seduction skills.

He smiled and shrugged rather than answer. As she closed the door he rose. This would be the most graceful time he'd have to exit, but first he went to her closet to plant a small transmitter in her coat. It was a small gesture, but he hoped that they'd be able to save her from herself if they knew where she'd gone.