Chapter Twelve

Seras needed an escape. The shame she felt grew, burning beneath her skin, turning to rage as easily as water turns to steam. She feared what would happen if – or rather, when – she blacked out again, from the sheer strength of the emotion. Whoever claimed that vampires were unfeeling beasts would balk at this white-hot feeling in her bones, the sharp sting of tears in her eyes, and the ache of her undead heart. The edges of her vision blurred. She was almost there. Almost free of the mansion. With distance, she hoped, she would regain some self-control.

The moon anchored her mind, and the grass beneath her bare feet rooted her in some semblance of normalcy. Her breathing slowed. The wind whispered against her breasts. It was freeing. The transgressions of Alucard slipped into the back of her mind. She allowed herself to experience the night, feeling the life of every rabbit, centipede, and owl in her surroundings. Tucking away her sophistication, her highly-evolved thoughts, Seras decided to hunt. Whoever claimed that vampires were unfeeling beasts would be vindicated.

The rabbit darting from shrub to shrub had a heartbeat so frantic, it made Seras's head spin. The anxious little creature must have sensed its impending death. She crouched low, moving across the plains fluidly, perfectly. Her mouth collected saliva at the thought of clamping her jaws on the furry thing's neck. She considered sending out calming thoughts to it, to lessen her challenge. No, she decided, it should be afraid. It should be ready to run for its life. She could see it. The rabbit could see her, too, and skirted to the right. Seras relished the chase, but it was short-lived. She felt its life extinguish suddenly; it was the lid slamming shut on the hand invading the cookie jar. Cunning eyes gleamed at her in the night.

Archer, she complained, standing upright, I almost had it.

A rabbit. Hardly a challenge for a hunter such as yourself. He dropped the dead rabbit at her feet. She could feel his smile through the connection of their minds. Has Alucard angered you again?

That would be an understatement, she conceded, feeling the hot, lapping waves of her loathing creep on the shores of her thoughts.

Understood. Let us hunt, then. Archer pushed into her mind the image of a deer, peacefully nibbling vegetation half a mile or so from the field where they conversed. First one to strike the death blow gets the meal. Seras grinned. Now, this would be a challenge worthy of her time. Feet to the ground, Seras locked her focus onto the target and raced ahead.

Until the sun threatened its presence, Seras ran and rolled in the grass and mud with Archer. It was the reprieve her mind craved, and the solace of his company closed a cap over the gaping wound dealt to her by Alucard. She slept in the windowless bathroom, settling into the bathtub with a plethora of blankets and pillows. Exhaustion took her hand, leading her into darkness. As she fell asleep, she couldn't help but think, He's gone too far this time.

Alucard turned a wooden chair to splinters, dashing it against the wall. That opportunistic vermin, he thought, venomously. He could imagine a million ways in which to crush and mutilate the body of the shapeshifter, but it was futile. He was now out of the battlefield and in the chess game. Only good politics and scheming could produce an end result that pleased the vampire. Slaughtering the shapeshifter would pit Seras against Alucard. The girl had a mind of her own, suddenly, a fact that Alucard both loathed and appreciated. Dealing with an ignorant, flighty damsel made for slow training and strategizing. To complete his plan, Alucard needed her to be strong and deeply, terribly in love.

In love with Alucard, that is.

I have to stop this before it progresses any further, he thought, closing his fist tightly.

There was only one clear solution to his predicament, outside of hypnotizing the girl and wiping her memory. He needed to apologize. The thought reviled him, but he was prepared for such a task, if it meant regaining the girl's hard-fought loyalty. She slept in the bathtub that morning, and he allowed it. The distance would be helpful. Alucard stayed up, plotting, but felt the moon begin his ascent and rushed to wake her.

She was crumpled in her makeshift bed, spotted with remnants of dirt from her night of hunting with the cat. He shook her shoulders, dragging her from the firm grip of sleep. Bleary-eyed, she emerged, quickly remembering her hatred of him. And it was hatred. Deep and hot, it roiled in her. He felt it sear his mind, and he realized an apology would not suffice.

"Get up," he commanded, donning his mask of apathy. "Be ready to train."

"No," she snapped, jerking from the grip of his hands on her shoulders.

Punishingly, his mind clamped down on hers. She whimpered, at first, before fighting back. Suddenly, the wall went up. He was locked out. His consciousness wailed against hers, throwing all of his effort into the attack like high tide breaking against the rocks. Quickly, he veiled the astonished look on his face. Seras rose from her bed, teeming with previously untapped power. She was independent of him. And she hated him.

Alucard realized, stepping away from his creation, that he'd gone too far this time.

I know, I know, it's been literally years. I decided to revisit my fanfiction roots, and felt the familiar stab of inspiration. It was a short-lived stab, and I fear it will be fatal for this story. Hopefully some of the story's fans are still around. Even if they aren't, this was hella fun to write. A note, though: I didn't reread much of the story, so if the details seem off, it's because...well... it's been years.

Your friendly, neglectful author

Britt