Midian Evolution

I dawdled in the kitchens just to watch Anderson interact with Julianna. I also did it because I didn’t want to see my master. The cold emptiness in my chest where my heart used to be, still ached.

I observed idly how Anderson held his knife and fork. He did it the English way, leaving his fork in his left hand after cutting his steak. He had long fingers, but not as long as Alucard’s.

Julianna took the ex-priest’s glasses and started cleaning them with soapy water at the sink, humming a little to herself. Anderson seemed to relax a bit more. I thought he probably needed a woman looking after him, despite his chauvinism.

“Sir Integra wanted me to tell you, Father, that she’s given you quarters of your own here at Hellsing.” Julianna dried the little round spectacles and carried them back to him. “She believes you’ll stay with us.” She sat down and smiled gently at the blond man. “You will stay, won’t you? We need you.”

Apparently, Integra and Julianna had a little talk at some point. I listened closely for Anderson’s answer, watching his face go through a myriad of emotions. First came disgust, then a sort of sick reluctance. Thirdly, he went all blank. At last, he sighed. The smallest of nods moved his head.

“Aye, for the vampire in the cellar won’t let me go,” he said.

Julianna nodded as well, looking quite understanding. “You will leave with them for the Orient Express tomorrow, but I see no reason you can’t sleep in a bed of your own tonight. When you’ve finished eating I’ll take you to your new rooms.”

“Verra well, Julianna,” Anderson said. “Thank you.”

Julianna smiled again. “Does it bother you that I still address you by your title?”

“Yes and no,” Anderson said. “I’m not a priest annaemore, but it comforts me to hear the title.”

Julianna looked at me, and I got the distinct impression she wanted to be alone with Anderson. I got up and went to the refrigerator, getting a bag of A+ blood. Then, I left. I could take a hint.

God, I felt lonely. Abandoned, even. With Integra and Walter understandably occupied with each other, Master unapproachably angry, and no one else to talk to, I had nowhere to go. I didn’t even want to go to my rooms, because Master would be so close.

I went to the music room and played Swan Lake on the piano three times in a row. It soothed me a little. I could close my eyes and imagine I was back in the orphanage. Still human. With dreams. With dreams of being loved.

My dress irritated me. I tapped into what I was and made it into a longer, flowing dress, choosing the color of Master’s eyes. I kicked off my shoes, then, because I didn’t need them and because I hated heels.

I started my fourth recital of Swan Lake, and as I played, I thought. I thought about everything.

When had I fallen in love with my Master? Had it been the moment he met my eyes, his gun lifted to destroy the vampire priest in Cheddar? I’d been filled with a sense of his power while admiring everything about him. I’d been as much attracted as frightened. I would have done anything he wanted, even then, and it had nothing to do with vampiric persuasion. It was male-to-female, purely.

He’d taken me away from most of my earthly fears. The ones he’d given in return seemed at once too much and not enough. He was so mighty, and I didn’t deserve him at all. He was right to be angry with me. I’d been selfish and horrible, putting my stupid need for romance over his plans.

I just couldn’t help loving him. Not one bit. He could do anything, be anything.
How could I apologize? It wasn’t like I could make up for my silliness.

I abandoned the piano and phased into my room. No one had been in here, not even Walter with blood packs, of course. I opened my coffin and settled inside, closing the lid. God, it felt so lonely. I’d rest a few hours, wait until dark, then get out and ask Master for punishment. Perhaps he’d let me wipe the slate clean that way.

It seemed I’d only been in there a few minutes before I felt the sun go down. I stretched and got out again. My eyes fell on Alexander Anderson, sitting at my little vanity table. A bucket of ice and blood packs sat before him. He turned and looked at me. “Julianna sent the blood,” he said.

I grabbed one and drained it in seconds. The next one I took in just a little slower. The last one I decided to savor, and took it over to my bed. Sitting, I tore the tube off and sipped. “You look better,” I said, and I meant it. He did look a lot healthier. He had some color now, and I thought maybe the pretty chef had cut his hair for him.

Anderson blinked and remained quiet.

I slowly finished the third blood pack, refusing to look away from him. “Thanks for the dinner delivery.”

“Yeh took me to mine,” he pointed out. “Your master won’t allow me to wander freely. If I dinnae have him as my guide, I must have you, vampire lass.”

“I doubt I could control you the way Master does,” I said.

Anderson actually smiled. “Yeh are right now,” he contradicted. “Yer curiosity about me compels me to sit here until I’m dismissed.”

“Oh.” That was kind of sick. I didn’t imagine Anderson would put up with that kind of shit for long. “You don’t have to stay with me. I’m sorry.”

Anderson rubbed his forehead tiredly. “The alternative is worse. Ah decided I hate yer master more than you. Yeh cannae help what yeh are; he turned you.”

I released a long breath. “I asked for it, Angel Dust. I could either die or be turned, and I chose the last option. I was eighteen, and I didn’t want to die.”

Anderson shook his head. “Children choose poorly.”

“I’m really, really not a kid, no matter how much I might look like one to you,” I protested lightly. “I want adult things.”

Anderson chuckled. “Tha’ just proves it, vampire lass. Adults wish to have their childhood, while children wish to be adults.”

Feeling rather lost, I eased down onto my side and just kept looking at him. Maybe he was right. Sometimes, Integra called my master Peter Pan, the boy who would never grow up. I was probably an extension of that.

I winced as it came to me that the men in my unit had called me ‘kitten’. I doubted they’d call me that now, had they survived the Cheddar Priest and all his ghouls.

“I understand you’ve been made to hate vampires,” I said. “I can even see why you would. But, Master and I aren’t loose cannons. Can’t you make an exception for us?”

Anderson rubbed at his forehead again. “Ah made an exception fer yeh already, girl. I cannae extend my charity to yer master. Even if ah could, he keeps me imprisoned, an’ people don’t love their jailors.”

“Okay,” I said quietly. “It’s just that I really like everyone to get along. Hellsing has enough problems without a lot of internal fuss. My old unit commander used to say he didn’t want a ‘hostile work environment’, so that’s what I’m sort of wanting, you know?”

Anderson tapped his fingers on my table, nodded brusquely and began surveying my room. After a few minutes, he took out his Bible and began to read. I let him occupy himself like that for as long as I could, but eventually my nosiness got the better of me.

“Read me something nice out of that book,” I asked. “Surely there’s got to be a story in there about an interesting woman.”

Anderson shot a look at me. “It’ll hurt your undead ears to hear anything out o’ this book,” he said harshly.

“No, it won’t,” I argued. “I’ve heard about Jesus a couple of times, and Integra prays out loud and it doesn’t hurt me.”

“The only praying Integra Hellsing does is on her back,” Anderson said coldly.

I sat up. “You take that back, Angel Dust! Master’s master was a virgin, and I know that for a fact! Walter was her first!” I was so mad I was seeing red. How dare he pass judgment on a woman he didn’t know! He hadn’t cared to know her, so he could take his nasty opinion and shove it.

“How do yeh know it?” he asked, still using that same, cold voice.

“Because I drank from her. Virgin blood tastes different.” God, did I ever remember how Integra Hellsing had tasted. She was exquisite. All that feminine softness she suppressed had gone right into her bloodstream. “She was ruthless in her attempts to be pure and chaste. She only agreed to marry because Master insisted she bear an heir. She chose Walter because he was loyal and good to her, and good for the entire organization.”

Anderson’s eyebrows lifted. “Why would yer filthy master insist such a thing? If she dies before having children, he’s free.”

I swallowed hard. This was a touchy subject, thanks a lot. “Master doesn’t want to be free,” I admitted. “So, maybe people can love their jailors.” I didn’t want to educate Anderson on the reality. Master was already free. He stayed here because he wanted to stay.

Anderson tucked his Bible back into his cassock and put his forehead in his hand. “Just at th’ moment ah think I’m gettin’ a grip on a twisted snake, it turns and bites me!” he declared.

I wasn’t placated. “You take back what you said,” I insisted. “My master’s master is no whore. I’ll knock your teeth out if I ever hear you even imply that again.”

“Fine.” Anderson met my eyes. “I was mistaken. Maxwell suggested things to me that made me believe a falsehood.”

Mollified, I collapsed back down to the bed. “If I were you, I’d reevaluate everything that dirty Maxwell ever said. I think it’s shitty that he took your life away from you just because you wouldn’t give over more little boys for the Regenerist Program.”

Anderson looked like he might swallow his tongue. “Wha’ would you care about little boys that don’t belong to anyone? Little, Catholic boys, even.”

“Don’t assign your bigotry to me,” I shot back. “Why do you think I target pedophiles when I’m hungry?” I flung my arms out and waved them around angrily. “Why the fuck would I care what religion, what race, what sex? None of that touches me! I’m timeless! I’ll live forever, or at least until someone drives an oaken stake through my heart, cuts my head off, stuffs my mouth full of silver and garlic bulbs, and buries the mess at a crossroads!” I sat up again. “And another thing, Angel Dust; I’m an orphan, too! Maybe if I’d had a caretaker or two that gave a shit about me, I’d be a different person today!”

Anderson blinked a few times. “Touchy on tha’ subject, aren’t you?” he asked.

“Yes.” I crossed my arms and went to staring at the ceiling. “I had a miserable childhood. I bought into all those girly, fairy tale stories about white knights and handsome princes riding to the rescue of the damsel in distress, and I guess because I was desperate for someone to come and take me away from it all.”

Ahhh, Sotie…

Master? I sat up a third time. Master?

No answer.

Well, at least Master was talking to me…

Sort of…

Anderson made a small noise of disgust. “Stories like that are the cruelest pastimes. I certainly never fed nonsense to my children.” He got up. “Yer filthy master is calling me.”

“Please don’t say he’s filthy,” I entreated softly. “Master is good to me, and to Integra and Walter. It makes me cringe when you call him names.”

Anderson hesitated in the doorway. He looked at the wall for a moment, his back stiff and his hands held rigidly at his sides. Slowly, he pivoted to meet my eyes. “One thing at a time, wee vampire lass, one thing at a time.”

He left.

I waited a little while, then got up and went to shower. I’d be leaving here very soon for the train, and I didn’t want to embarrass Sir Integra and Walter with stale helmet hair and a wrinkled look.