Monsters and Angels

Walter shook his head, sifting through the many reports on the desk. The day had been far too long with far too many questions rising in his mind. Alucard and Seras had uncovered a great deal of information, that was true. However it was the connecting of the many elements to a single source that confounded him. It seemed no matter how he tried, the information led in two different paths. Very conflicting paths.

On the one hand it would appear that Rome did indeed have a pet master vampire just as Hellsing did. Or once did. On the other they seemed far too stringent in their duties to allow such a thing. Both scenarios were likely and highly believable, however the fact remained that Sir Hellsing had been attacked and effectively killed by one with ties to Iscariot.

“Could it be that Rome herself is unaware?” he mused. His green eyes lifted to scan the tall windows, now draped against the sun. He did such things in case Alucard or Integra were needed aboveground in the long burning hours. Thus far they had not been, but Walter refused to leave anything to chance. A glance at his watch told him that the sun would set in an hour’s time.

With a rueful sigh, he looked back to the desktop and eyed Maxwell’s invitation. He didn’t want Integra to attend of course, Maxwell was by far too cunning and devious to be trusted. This ‘show of friendship’ was nothing but a sham and they were well aware of it. A likely trap to catch the newly turned Hellsing and rid the world of her. However, this function was within the halls of Rome’s cathedral. With many of the top clergy in attendance.

It made sense that they would want to meet with her prior to any operations within their domain, however such a social event was to be questioned. There was another message from the inner sanctums of the Vatican, one that bore little flair. A simple envelope written to Sir Hellsing from Father Kieran. Whoever he might be. Walter supposed they would simply have to see what came.

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Father Kieran knelt before the gilded cross, the firelight dancing over it like heavenly kisses. Like long lost sunlight. His eyes closed as he muttered his prayers.

Behind him the heavy vault door swung open slightly before closing once more, quietly. The scent of gunpowder and violets reached his nose and he smiled though it remained unseen. Genova, the orphan girl who had long ago been found by the aging father Julian and brought to him.

The scrap of a girl had barely been alive, half starved and frozen, and yet the old man had trusted Father Kieran with her care and instruction. She, like himself had become a secret of the church. A faithful warrior in the battle of good and evil.

She knelt beside him, her dark hair covered under the sheer veil of her so –called office. She was no more a monk than he was a human. He inhaled deeply of that scent, her blood flowing just beneath the pale flesh of her body. From the corner of his eyes, he watched her plump lips, tinged the dusky hue of mauve move silently. Her own prayers falling like unheard droplets from her lips.

Father Kieran crossed himself, rising gracefully and strode from the small underground chapel and into the study he frequented. It’s walls paneled in rich fabrics seemingly out of place against the many weapons scattered across the walls. Genova followed shortly after, pulling her woolen robes over her head as she did so.

She tossed them on the high- backed chair in the corner, before striding to the desk where the good father stood waiting. “What has the archbishop ordered?” she asked. Her voice far too sweet for one who had slain hundreds.

Her dark form fitting suit looked to be made of leather and velvet, a thin and flimsy item to be certain. It was not. It was holy armor and she wore it well, as did he. He said nothing for a long while, content to let his gaze wander over her.

“Kieran” she prompted when he remained silent. He smiled, a wry twist of a smile, “Genova we are called upon once again” he told her, his voice rich and deep, slightly gravelly and oddly pleasing with a hint of a lilt. She blinked her wide violet eyes, waiting.

“We must purge the holy city of evil, we must bring about the fall of a most secret and once most sacred group. That brotherhood has been tainted and the duty falls to us”. She nodded, her mind automatically listing each task that would be required. “The others will have to be readied” she murmured. He nodded, “Indeed. We shall tell them together, tonight”.

Genova watched as Kieran sank into his chair, his movements filled with feline grace. He lifted those eyes to her, greener than the hills of Erin and then held out his palm to her. She slid her hand into his, reveling in the largeness of his grip, the slight callusing that remained there.

Kieran pulled her unresisting form into his lap and buried his nose against her richly colored hair. “This battle is different” he whispered to her, “A true battle between monsters and angels”. She pressed her warm palm against his cooler cheek, searching his eyes. “We will triumph” she told him softly, “As we ever have”.

He hugged her to him, “Of that I have no doubt, I merely wonder Genova…. Just who is who?”.

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Integra’s eyes moved swiftly over the messages. “I suppose it can’t be helped” she finally allowed, “I am going to have to attend, and be one of the first guests to arrive when there is still light in the sky”.

Walter of course balked, “That might not be wholly wise Sir, given your undead status” he pointed out. She lifted a pale brow at him, “A living woman wouldn’t have such a trivial problem would she?” she pointed out, her voice deadpan.

Seras leaned against the wall, her full curves resting on her crossed arms. “That’s just it” she replied, “If she arrived during the first half hour, she’d only have that small amount of time to be worried over the light, and it would still be enough to silence some speculation”.

Walter peered over at her, “Something coming to mind officer Victoria?”. She nodded, catching her lower lip between her teeth as she mentally sorted through her idea. “If I recon the area of the meeting” she said at last, “I will have a better answer for you”.

Integra sighed, “Tell me what you are thinking” she commanded, though not harshly. Seras nodded, “The area surrounding the cathedral is built up” she supplied, “Therefore the light may be a very minimal concern”. Integra smiled, “Walter, I think I’d like some tea if you don’t mind”.

The butler nodded and went to see to it at once. Integra kept her eyes on Seras, “You grow more like him each day” she said at last and Seras started slightly, “Like master Alucard?” she asked, “I don’t think so. I have a small problem with lingering human emotions”.

Integra could relate, “They say that vampires don’t care” Integra mused, “About anything but themselves and where the next meal comes from. Over centuries of life any other thought is erased from our being”.

Her eyes lit on Seras once more, “Do you believe that?”. Seras shifted her weight, “I don’t Sir. No” she answered honestly. “I still care about people, and hold my human memories dear, that much hasn’t changed. Nor do I think it has within you either”.

Integra made a small sound in the back of her throat, but Seras pushed on, “As for the ancients. Alucard is one, and he cares about more than food” she pressed, “He cares about you after all, swore himself to you and your service”. Integra chuckled, “Then I suppose that means he is a hypocrite who suffers the same malady then”.