Hellsing - Blood Heritage

“Rachel, what the bloody hell are you doing? Get the bar wiped down girl!”

Syn looked up from her set list to watch the blonde getting chewed out for her laziness. She was a relatively new addition to the The Green Faerie, and from the looks of things, she wouldn't be around very long. Christopher Beacon, the owner of the bar, had little tolerance for slackers, and god help you if you wound up on the receiving end of his bad side.

She was the resident DJ for the nightclub/bar, and had been around long enough to know what the girl was going through. One night two years ago she had shown up for work 5 minutes late, and received such a brutal tongue lashing that she spent the rest of the night in tears. (Syn never cried) Needless to say, it was the first, and the last time she was ever late for something.

She elbowed the man next to her. “Hey Tank, what do you want to bet she'll be gone by the end of the night?”

Tank was the other DJ of the club. No one knew what his real name was, but they all called him Tank because – well.. he looked like one. 6 ' 3, and 275 pounds of pure muscle. He looked like he should be hanging out with the bouncers outside instead of in a DJ booth.

He looked up and winced. “Oh damn. How'd she get hired anyway?”

Syn opened her mouth to tell him she had no idea, but was interrupted by the boss' booming voice.

“Alright people, we open in 10 minutes, so finish up!”

No one had to be told twice.

Syn and Tank took turns at the DJ booth in three hour shifts. They usually alternated who got first shift, and tonight was Syn's turn. She climbed into the booth and booted up the computers that held their massive music collection. DJ-ing for her was always an odd mix of pre-planning and running on instinct. There were always set lists prepared as a road map for the night, but the crowd was the determining factor in what was played. Syn had learned how to ride the emotions of her listeners. People in large groups tended to be fickle and hard to please, so she took it upon herself to get into their heads and make coming to the dance floor an experience like no other. She could take her listeners down into the darkest depths of music, letting them indulge and play with the darker sides of themselves, then float them into higher, ethereal places all in the span of one set.

Tank constantly complained about her deliberately making his part of the job more difficult.

At 9:30, she flipped the switches for the massive speakers and turned on the music. People poured into the club – a few taking tables to drink, but the majority heading to the dance floor. From her elevated perch, she could see the entire room. If anything particularly exciting or scandalous was going on, she would be one of the first ones to see it. It was for that very reason that she had a headset that she could use to communicate with the bartenders, waitresses, and bouncers. No one was perfect, and with the crowds and flashing lights it could be hard for the employees to see what was going on. So they watched out for each other and reported anything out of the ordinary to everyone else. It usually consisted of 'we've got a drunk causing some trouble back toward the bathrooms', or 'I've got a guy at table three who keeps grabbing my ass'. But, as is often the case with people who work closely together, the technology was sometimes used to relay messages about more mundane – usually outright idiotic things.

Syn was coming on the end of her shift when she picked up on one of them. The waitresses were gushing over some guy that had walked in.

“Oh my god, check out the guy at the bar!”

“Holy Mary and Joseph, break me off a piece of that.”

“Oooohh...I want me a man like that.”

“Honey, that's not a man. That is a GOD.”

There were six bouncers, and every one of them were shaking their heads at what they were hearing. Syn rolled her eyes and pressed the call button on her earpiece. “Ladies, you know the guys can hear you.”

“Yes mother, we know they can hear us.” One of them giggled.

About that time, Tank tapped her on the back of the head. “My turn to play, momma hen. Go set the chickens straight.”

Syn got up and stretched, then handed over control of the booth. Now that her music shift was over, she had to take over bartending duties from Rachel. Chris wanted her to learn waitressing on the main floor. Which meant she would get to see this mysterious hot guy for herself.

As she approached the bar, all she could see was the back of him. He was tall and leanly built, with inky black hair that brushed his shoulders. Rachel was making a fool of herself trying to flirt. She pouted her lips, leaned over the bar to show off her cleavage – pulling out every trick in the book. It was comical, even if it did make her look desperate. Being a little flirty to get tips was one thing – but this was crossing the line into distasteful.

She lid behind the bar and got her first good look at his face. He was wearing a pair of red tinted sunglasses, but she could still see he was devastatingly handsome, with strong aristocratic features. He was enduring the blonde's advances with an amused expression. He wasn't turning her away, but he wasn't encouraging her either. There was something in his looks and his demeanor that made her think of a panther, or some other type of jungle cat. Very nice to look at, but with the capacity to become wild if necessary. There was something else too. Something she couldn't readily put a finger on. Like she had seen him somewhere before... She shrugged off the sensation and tapped Rachel on the shoulder.

“Chris wants you to work the floor.”

The little blonde glanced away from the man and smiled sweetly, but her eyes were frigid. “I'm busy right now.”

Syn narrowed her eyes at the girl. “I'll take over for you. Chris wants you on the floor.” She gave her a look of warning. “Now.”

Rachel glared at her venomously for a moment, then sniffed and grabbed an apron. She didn't miss the quiet “bitch” directed at her back as she sauntered off. Syn shook her head and turned to the man apologetically.

“I'm sorry about that. She's new.” She immediately noticed he didn't have a drink in front of him. Rachel had been so immersed in seducing him, she had neglected her job. “What would you like?”

He arched a brow at her, giving her the distinct impression that he wasn't thinking about drinking. “Nothing.” he said finally.

His voice was smooth and silky, with a dark, seductive quality to it that demanded the attention of anyone who heard it. Syn frowned at his response.

“Nothing?”

He nodded.

“What type of person comes to a bar and doesn't drink?” she asked, looking at him in mock suspicion. “You're not stalking someone are you?”

He chuckled – a deep, vibrant sound that sent a small chill up her spine. “Do I look like a stalker?”

“No.” she said honestly. “But it's difficult to tell the difference between psychopaths and normal people. You can never be too careful.”

“Very true.” he agreed, laughing. “I cannot say that I'm normal, but I can assure you that I'm not a danger to anyone here.”

“Well, as long as you behave yourself, I suppose that's good enough.”

Other customers came up to the bar, ordering their drinks to take back to their tables. Usually, there were more people hovering around this area of the club. But for some reason, her customers got their drinks then moved elsewhere. Only her mysterious customer remained. He watched her as she prepared drinks with a benign curiosity. As the night wore on, and the customers dwindled, he engaged her in idle conversation. He was charming and intelligent, with a biting wit and sense of humor that Syn enjoyed.

“You know, I keep having the strangest feeling that I know you from somewhere.” she commented. His mysterious smile only intensified the sensation. “What's your name?”

He made a false expression of shock. “It appears that I have been so entranced by our conversation that I have forgotten my manners. My name is Alucard.” He inclined his head regally before giving her an expectant look. “And yours?”

“Syn.”

She saw his brow arch over the top of his glasses. “Syn.” he repeated, letting it roll over his tongue. “The Norse goddess of watchfulness and truth. It suits you.”

“Wow.” she replied with a start. “You're good. Not many people know that.”

He simply sat and smiled, as if pleased that she was impressed. Syn didn't realize how late it was until the music shut off and the lights came on. She blinked in surprise.

“It's time to close already?”

Alucard glanced at the doors where the people were filing out. “The night flies by so quickly in the presence of good company.”

He rose gracefully from his seat and took her hand. She noticed his fine white gloves for the first time. She was both shocked and thrilled when he brushed his lips across her knuckles.

“I will see you again. Syn.”

His eyes met hers over the tops of his glasses, giving her a vision of their fiery crimson depths. He released her hand with a smirk and disappeared into the crowd. Syn remained frozen, staring after him in disbelief. She knew now why he seemed so familiar.

He was the one who killed her monster.