Midian Evolution

He took me to a shady, seedy alleyway in the city. I inhaled rot, garbage, layers of stale urine, alcohol of all types, and something else even less savory. Curling my nose, I barely resisted taking a bracing whiff of my master’s more pleasant aromas before drawing away.

“Do you know how to change your appearance yet, Police Girl?” he asked, drawing me toward the shadows of the very dimly lit alley.

“No, master,” I admitted. “I’m not sure I’ll be able to remember the lesson of dissolving myself, much less absorb a lesson on changing my appearance.”

He smiled. “Hold still,” he commanded. “I’ll change you.” I felt a wave of cold energy wash over me. My uniform changed to a rather youthful goth outfit of mini-skirt, black fishnet hose, big boots, corset and fingerless gloves. “You should always use natural attributes for hunting, Police Girl,” he lectured. “You look like jail bait.”

I boggled at him. “Jail bait?” I examined the admittedly racy ensemble. My boobs were nearly up to my chin, it seemed, and if I bent over at all… Had he left my underwear on me? I put my hand on my butt, feeling nothing but leather. No, I would not be bending over anytime soon.

My master took out my hair tie and dropped it to the ground. Clenching my head in both of his huge hands, he stared at me. “Yes, jail bait,” he stressed. “Pedophiles and child molesters are easy prey; that is why we’re starting here, where they congregate.” My hair grew long as he spoke, extending down to the length of my back. “Your huge, innocent eyes will draw their type.”

Did I look like a child to him? I thought of Helena and winced. “I don’t look underage, do I?”

“Innocence has no age.” My master stepped back. Before my eyes he shrank, his clothing transforming into typical male goth gear of black baggy pants with chains, boots, a metal band T-shirt, arm bracers and a plethora of facial piercings. His face youthened, becoming boyish instead of lean. Black paint around his eyes and on his lips made him seem somehow less frightening than usual, amusingly enough.

Peter Pan, I thought with a sigh. He’s a demonic, undead Peter Pan.

“I trust you have nothing against weeding degenerates from humanity’s gene pool?” he asked, stepped back. With the twirl of his finger he braided his hair. “This is where children and teenagers disappear, in this stinking cesspool. Sir Integra has no jurisdiction over human monsters, Police Girl, so she cannot order us here. But, do you think she would condemn us for feeding on the ones who prey on their own children?”

No, something told me Sir Integra would happily allow my master and I to eat child predators.

I found it interesting that he cared what humans did to their children. Then again, I served as his child, in a way, and he’d never harmed me.

He touched my cheek, looked deeply into my eyes. “The proper bait is always a tactical plus. You, my cowardly little fledgling, are tremendously good bait for these scum.” He tugged on a lock of my hair. “The only thing I could do to make you more enticing to them is to bruise your face, spill your blood, put pain in your eyes.” He let go of me to turn and sniff the air. “There isn’t any need for that, though. We’ll have our fill without that farce.”

Without meaning to, I suddenly had the thought that my master could look attractive no matter what form he took. He could change his looks, but his aura never changed. Always powerful, always deadly, always secretly amused about something.

“This way,” he said, turning back to me and holding out his hand. “Let’s drag a net in this river of barracuda. Do you know any other languages?”

I took his hand, noticing his gloves were gone. He felt cold and strong and reassuring. “I speak French,” I said.

“Good,” he answered me in that language. “Speak it until we close the net ties; a vulnerable looking pair of foreigners, we are, lost tourists with no guardians in sight.”

“We’ll just walk around?” I asked. It felt odd to have his hand, odd but also very supportive.

“It’s all we have to do,” he said. “Just down the street is the best district for this sort of hunting. There are tattoo parlors, bars, strip clubs, prostitution rings, all manner of vice and sin.”

We walked a few minutes in the dark, passing no one at first.

“Master, this can’t be very entertaining for you,” I ventured, eyeing him peripherally. “You’re a higher predator.”

“I enjoy teaching. Right now, I’m teaching you, Police Girl.” He pulled me underneath a street lamp and caged me in his arms. “Look up at me.”

I did as he said. I could utterly lose my identity in that scarlet gaze.

“Lost, lonely, barely legal tourists,” he told me, repeating his game-play softly. “You’ve suddenly decided you want to cross the street and take the poorly constructed stairs down to the river.”

Taking his cue, I grabbed his hand again and slipped under, pulling him across the street while he chuckled.

We already have one on our trail, he said silently. While you descend, scan the waterfront for other life forms.

I saw no one in either direction for nearly a kilometer.

Underneath a bridge is a good place, providing the space is occupied by lesser prey. Do you sense anyone?

I didn’t.

Yes, we’re alone for the moment.

And, more than the idea that my master was about to help me kill and eat a living human being, the idea of being alone with him while he radiated such joyful menace, intimidated me.

Sit on this rock with me, he bade. Listen while the human approaches. Listen to his heart rate accelerating at the thought of harming us. Smell his rancid sweat and excitement. Taste his pleasure at his notion of being a hunter.

We stared out over the polluted river, our bodies close. He dropped an arm over my shoulders. He’s at the top of the stairs, now, Master informed.

I hear him. He isn’t alone. Despite my attempt to control the excitement welling up, my fangs began to lengthen. He has another man with him. They stink.

Mmmm, my master replied. Their blood will do. I admit I prefer choicer prey, but my shrinking violet fledgling needs an excuse to kill.

You never let up for a minute, I sent to him scathingly. He made me so angry at times. Would you like me more if I was exactly like you, master?

He tightened his grip on me. Having a coward for my protégé is embarrassing.

A hand gripped the back of my neck, a hand that didn’t belong to my master. It was like a round from my own gun going off in my spine. I fell upon the man in seconds, flying out, twisting, and bearing him to the muck and sand. His knife sailed into the darkness. His head connected with a stone, knocking him out.

Leaping, I pounced upon his friend and tore his throat out.

Blood, hot, salty, life, copper, in my mouth, under my teeth, flowing…

It burst inside me. It tasted so unlike the blood packs, so alive and hot. The man’s screams became a gurgle of torment in seconds, and in a moment of my raw, desperate feeding, he faded. No more from him.

Red hazing my vision, I turned to the unconscious man. His eyes fluttered, as if he felt the force of my attention. I filled with the desire to control him, to break him before I killed.

“Get up,” I hissed.

He jerked upright like a marionette, his body obeying even if his senses couldn’t process.

Weak.

They were all so weak. Just bags of blood with legs.

“What did you want with us?” I demanded of him.

His greasy head lolled. “Fuuuuuuck,” he said unintelligently, but I certainly understood.

“You wanted to fuck me?” I asked. A sharp pain in my fingertips began. Growing claws…

I ripped him open and drank again. He tasted the same as his friend, just stronger. And, when I’d turned him into an empty husk, I dropped him.

Staggering, I went on my knees. It seemed I blinked only once before my master’s pleased, proud face appeared. “Very good, Seras,” he murmured. “Very, very good.” He paused. “Are you blood-drunk? Do you feel full?”

“Full?” I held my head up with effort. “I think they were high on something.”

Alucard frowned, and on him, the expression seemed delicate and ethereal. He sniffed a body. “Alcohol,” he confirmed. “But, it shouldn’t have an effect on you.”

I lurched back up and immediately fell back down. The world spun. “Shouldn’t, shouldn’t, shouldn’t,” I said, frustrated. “Shouldn’t have heat, shouldn’t blush, shouldn’t get drunk!” My fist came out and struck the rock we’d previously sat upon. It cracked in half. “God-damn it, master!”

“Calm yourself.”

“You have no right to tell me to be calm!” I got up again, fighting a drunken reel. “You’re the one who goes psychotic at mealtime!”

“Even during your success, you mystify me,” he said, encircling me in his arms. “Quit your thrashing. I’ve told you not to fight me and I meant it. The next time I have to reprimand you for it, I’ll make it hurt.”

I stilled instantly, breathing hard but otherwise not moving. “I’m sorry,” I said, feeling unhinged, miserable, and horribly stimulated from real, fresh blood, tainted though it might prove. “You won’t have to tell me again, master.”

He exhaled against my nape. “Police girl, if you fought me like a vampire, I’d not complain; I want you to struggle with me. I just don’t want you to do it like prey.”

His logic made perfect, absurd sense. A helpless laugh worked up and out, filling the city’s night sounds with my mania. Feeling completely uninhibited, I turned in his grip and pressed against him. “But, master, I am your prey,” I corrected, slurring a bit. “In more ways than one.”

“You are drunk.” My master lifted me. I felt him slowly dissolving us. “I can’t fathom it.”

It seemed only seconds passed before he carried me down a long, Hellsing mansion hallway.

“Alucard, Miss Victoria,” Walter’s voice blurted out. “What-?”

“I have no idea,” my irritated mentor snapped. “She got drunk off the blood of a drunk. It shouldn’t happen. She’s dead.” I’d never heard quite this tone from him. Alucard tended to be either completely cool or absolutely rabid, but now he seemed frustrated.

“Take her to the infirmary, now,” Sir Integra’s voice joined the moving conversation.

“She’s dead, master,” Alucard repeated. “Your machines will find nothing.”

“Obey me.”

Master stopped moving. He swung around to look at his own master. I met her eyes before roaming elsewhere, noting with pleasure she wore a hastily closed robe. Walter, too, had the look of interruption. I could smell the sex on them.

Alucard carried me toward the medical ward. His head lowered and I looked up to meet his eyes. “You deserve the arse-pain of me,” I whispered.

He gave a startled laugh, clutched me tighter and hurried. “Yes, I suppose,” he admitted. His grin returned, and though sometimes I hated it, at the moment I found it beautiful. Nothing restored my confidence in the natural order of things like seeing his sensual, toothy madness.

The moment he set me on an exam table, Integra stood beside me. Her smooth, warm, strong hand touched my face. “Get Doctor Kayne in here,” she snapped to someone. Walter picked up a phone and dialed immediately. Integra looked at her servant and frowned. “What the hell have the two of you been doing? Why are you both dressed like this and why are you so… young-looking?” Her questions came rapid-fire.

“We were hunting pedophiles at the Thames,” my master answered easily, not a trace of worry or shame in his smooth voice. “The Police Girl finally succeeded at bringing down live prey, only they were highly intoxicated.”

I found I was leaning into Integra’s soothing hand. The hard marble of her expression softened very slightly. Slowly, she reached out, grabbed Alucard’s shirt sleeve and brought him over to take her place. “Hold her up, servant,” she said harshly. “She’s your progeny and your responsibility. It’s time you started remembering that.”

My master favored his master with a neutral stare. But, he spread his gloved hands over my jaw and neck to support me. I watched him grow back into his usual appearance, and as a consequence I stared at his torso.

He smelled so good. I leaned forward, letting my head drop against his chest.

Everything else faded into background, even the doctor coming in to examine me.

You’ve never been drunk, Alucard’s soft, mental tone of wonder said.

No.

Not once in your young life had you consumed alcohol.

No.


A pause. The doctor, who had to work around the obstruction of Alucard, took a blood sample from me and adjusted my monitor leads.


No vices, no sexual experience?

No, master. Dear God, hadn’t he made the observation that my wide, innocent eyes would draw predators?

That explains your initial exquisite taste, but not the fact you still taste the same.

I sighed. Master, I don’t know.


“Sir Integra,” the doctor said. “May I speak to you in the hall, privately?”

Alucard stiffened as the two moved into the hall. His eyes sought mine. Slowly, he bent and inhaled the skin at my neck.

What? I tried to sit still, but I felt nervous now.

He ignored me. Throwing Walter a glance, he casually removed his gloves. Walter gave a small gasp of surprise at seeing the Hellsing monster unchain himself.

Look at me.

I obeyed. My master cradled my face in his hands and stared into me. I fell upward into the swirling mix of yellow and red.

Such beautiful, beautiful eyes…

His thumb moved over to my bottom lip. The light caress made me feel so utterly aware…

And, the lines on the monitor leaped to life.

Sir Integra and Doctor Kayne burst back into the room. “What did you do?” they both demanded of Alucard at once. He didn’t even look at them. His gaze never wavered from mine.

All their voices faded, replaced by the awesome quiet of his mind. A slow and powerful thudding sensation began in my chest. It took me a moment to realize why.

My heart had started.