Her handcuffs were too fine of a quality to chafe her wrists, but they were heavy and even the generously long chain restricted her movements. Only a moment ago the cell door had closed behind a stern faced man who had placed a feast on the table, the only piece of furniture in the cell, and had left her without saying a word. Integra was in trouble this time. The cold chilled her bones, and even the heat that she was inhaling with every puff from her cigar wasn't enough to dispel the stiffness from her fingers.
Breathe. Exhale. Breathe. Exhale. The smoke coming from the smoldering end of her cigar contrasted nicely with the steam coming off of the meal she was studiously ignoring.
Breathe.
Exhale.
Do everything, anything, except think.
Because underneath the calm, unflappable exterior that had been her life for the past twenty two years, Integra Wingates Hellsing roiled.
Rage. Despair. Helplessness, and a betrayal so internal it was all she could do to remind herself to breathe with all of the emotions coursing through her body. She didn't know who had lived and who had died. Who had betrayed her family and who had struggled to save it. But that didn't really matter anymore, did it? The honor of her family had been destroyed, forever, the moment that the handcuffs had snapped shut around her wrists.
She took another puff of of the cigar, feeling the smoke billowing inside of her mouth, and when she let it out she felt the briefest sense of satisfaction that at least she had been allowed this one vice. The smoke rolling in and out over her tongue was the one temptation she had ever allowed herself, and the addiction that had resulted almost pleased her. Integra had allowed luxury into her life, and had paid dearly for it. Every rush othat buzzed through her veins when she smoked was a reminder of how dearly she had paid for her weakness.
Speaking of weakness... she felt a jolt that had nothing to do with either her cigar or the mess she had gotten herself into. A trickle of energy that touched every nerve from the tips of her gloved fingers to the toes still nestled into her favorite loafers. Alucard.
He came through the same door her jailor had just left, materializing through the solid surface in a way that had long ceased to be surprising.
She breathed his name, and watched the fanged grin that spread across his face as he came to stand before her.
"Integra... my Master." He never said her name. She could remember hearing it off of his lips only one other time in her life, when she had been sick in bed as a child, soon after they had saved each other. She had thought she was dying, and to this day she couldn't have said with any degree of certainty if his words to her in the deeps of the night had really only been a dream.
"Your orders?" he said. There was nothing in his voice, his manner, his entire being, that indicated that anything was wrong. That anything could possibly be wrong. And that was the most soothing thing about him. Her next breath off of her cigar was deliciously relaxing.
She fought the urge to smile. Shaking off her dismissive critiques, standing before her, cocky. Everything about him only reminded her that he would never change - couldn't change. He was alien, immortal, and as much of a bond as the two of them had, it was only because she had changed herself for him, and not the other way around.
"I have no orders for you, Alucard." She made a small, hopeless gesture, and her chains rattled. "I don't have an organization. I don't have a family. I have no hold over you... not anymore."
He eyed the bonds, the chains that he could break in moments, that held her prisoner. "I made a vow to protect the Hellsing family," he said, his voice a growl even when spoken softly. "There may never be another after you, but there's still you. Integra Wingates Hellsing." That's when he started to walk forward, each footstep a dull thud on the stone floor. He paused at her table, and picked up the wineglass. He held it for just a moment, toasting her silently, before shattering the fragile glass in his hand.
"It's your decision," he said... and nothing else. The meaning, the implication, was clearer than it had ever been. He had never been joking, when he had offered her his blood. It had never been a game. They both knew that there was a very real possibility that she could die in here... and for whatever reason, Alucard didn't want that.
A slow smirk crossed her face as she watched the last drops of red made their way out from between his clenched fingers and fell to the stone floor. Blood, drunk on wine. Wine, filtered by violent blood. There was no way of knowing which drops were torn from his unresisting flesh and those made by fermenting the sweet fruit that had always been one of Integra's favorites.
She licked her lips, watching him. The hand, the falling liquid finally slowing to nothing more than a thin trickle. Those eyes, the same bright color as fresh blood. Behind him, on the artfully decorated table, her dinner was cooling.
Their eyes locked and still they were silent. There was no need for words between them. There hadn't been for some time now, what with he, reading her thoughts, and she, reading his actions, knowing the mind that preformed them as well as she knew her own. That had been her worst mistake as the leader of the Hellsing family, and she knew it now. Worse than placing all of her trust in the very people who had betrayed her, worse than the feeling that she had served the Queen so faithfully that it was only natural that she should get treated like a loyal dog in her time of need. No. Her worst mistake was allowing herself to trust him.
"You know my answer," she said.
His expression didn't change. The red wetness was staining his white glove, pooling in the hollows of his hand. He was silent.
"Alucard..."
That's when he crossed the distance between them so quickly that the words resting behind her teeth came out all at once, in a gasp of air. His face was so close to hers that her eyes ached, unable to focus on his bright red eyes.
"How am I supposed to protect you when you don't want to be protected?" he whispered. The grin was still on his face, pasted there like an prosthesis. "Would you rather I destroy this castle, kill the guards outside, and take you to some deserted island? Do you want me to take you into the shadows and deposit you into some small town in the Americas?"
"What, and by running away admit some kind of wrongdoing?" Her smile couldn't stay off her face, even the muscles in her cheeks mocking her. If he could be strong, if he could stay unchanged... then she had to as well. She was Master here. Could never forget it, and never allow the monster in front of her to forget it.
"Stop it. I know you're not a fool, so stop acting like one. Do you want to die, Integra?" He leaned closer, too close. She recoiled.
"No." She could never tell him anything but the truth. He would know as soon as she did, anyway.
"Then live forever. With me." He leaned closer.
"No," she repeated. But it was weaker, and Aludard's smile widened as he heard the lie in her voice and in her mind.
"You never listen," he chided, but his breath was in her ear, warm despite everything she thought she knew about vampires. "Live forever, Integra. With me." One of his gloved fingers stroked the back of her hand with a gentleness that made her believe that every time she had ever seen him kill was a lie, and she spoke a single word.
Her food cooled on the table.