Drumming his fingers on the smooth wood of the table, the young priest cast his glance over the other dinner guests, the ones who had not arrived with the Vatican's group. They all appeared as bored as he was, chatting quietly among themselves as they waited for the hosts of the evening, but Michael's trained eye knew better. He caught the tension in supposedly relaxed backs and there was more than one glint of metal in the soft light, alerting him to a sword or gun concealed beneath the extravagant evening dress. (Though he was in no position to pass judgment, given the sword strapped beneath his robe that pressed against his back tightly.) At least all the rest of the people seated around the table were human, though the two empty chairs at the head of the table assured him that it would not remain that way for long.

Reaching for the cup of water placed in front of him, he knocked it back as though it were a drink, in a show of skill that had Father Paolo chuckling behind his sleeve. Michael regularly drank holy water- washed his clothes in it, in fact- and the taste of regular water had become distasteful. It lacked a certain punch: there was no thrum of power, no warmth of faith. The change turned his lips down and he found himself frowning at the glass, turning it over in one large hand. He'd brought plenty of holy water with them; he should have thought to bring a few of the vials down to dinner.

He'd even had them out on the bed when the maid came in to fetch them for dinner. Vampire-proofing the room they were staying in had taken longer than he'd thought it would, with those unreachable windows, and as she opened the wooden door with a soft knock and an "I've come to fetch you for dinner," they were still… in the process. He'd had to scale his way up the wall, with the armchair nearby in case he lost his balance, and listened to Father Paolo offering advice for which stones looked good for him to climb on. Eventually he'd managed to pour a few vials of the blessed liquid on the stones and hung cloves of garlic on the windowsill, but they'd turned to see the maid staring as if they'd been caught fucking on the bed.

Looking to his right, Michael stared at the great wooden door to the dining hall. Everything in this place was wood- hadn't the monsters ever heard of anything else? Every door in the place could be slammed with a resounding thud and every bit of furniture would give you splinters if you rested your hand on it for too long. The priest didn't envy Eleazar, having to live in this dreary place until the Vatican called him back or the vampires kicked him out. Michael was about to remark as such to the young man, but before he could make a sound there was a terrible silence that fell over the stifled the syllables on the priest's tongue and his senses kicked into high alert as the oaken doors to the banquet table swung open to admit the No-Life King and Queen.

The king himself was the same as ever, with a pitch-black suit that looked like liquid ink and a blood red tie that appeared as though it had been poured out of some unfortunate's throat and made to take the shape of evening attire. A dragon pin made from gold winked on his chest, snorting fire in the form of rubies- ostentatious and unnecessary, in the priest's mind. Alucard grinned at his guests and whispered something to the lady on his arm, who cast a glance around the room and murmured back to him. Both laughed and Michael felt his ire rising already, without them even mentioning a word to the assembled humans. It didn't help that he couldn't hear what they had said, even with his superior senses. Bloody fucking monsters.

"Welcome to our home," The queen announced in a clear voice and his attention shifted to her. Queen Seras wasn't wearing a dress, he noted with mild surprise- most ancient vampires were so old-fashioned in their worldviews and he couldn't imagine the king allowing his wife to wear anything but a corset and ball gown. A pretty red blouse complemented her glowing red irises and she'd followed her husband's color scheme, wearing pants as black as the sky. Her necklace was a curled dragon that wrapped around her throat, with rubies for eyes and small scales exquisitely carved into the metal. No crowns for either of them, of course. So old fashioned.

The guests had risen when the royal couple walked into the room and they remained standing as the two made their way to the chairs at the head of the table, shaking hands with each human along the way. Tense smiles rested on every face but those of the monarchs, who glided through the room as though it were filled with adoring human admirers and not people armed to the teeth with weapons to kill their kind. Their security was understandable- no one in their right mind would attack either of them as long as their mate was near, and certainly not in the castle. It would be a wish for torture and eventually death, though Michael had heard tales of prisoners the king especially hated, who were made into vampires simply so he could continue to torture them past the limits of the human body.

Coming to a stop in front of the Vatican's party, the queen reached out to Father Paolo with an expression of surprise and happiness.

"Paolo, you didn't tell us you were coming!" She hugged the older man tightly, ample bosom pushing against the priest's chest. Michael cleared his throat, uncomfortable with the queen touching his commander so familiarly. The king winked at him and the priest suddenly felt the need for a long shower, disgusted with the company.

"I thought it to be a surprise," The man said, stepping back smoothly out of Seras' arms. "As Michael was sent, it was deemed proper that I should go too. All rather last minute." He indicated the regenerator with a flick of his wrist and the queen turned her red eyes on him, looking him up and down.

Was that a hint of unease the priest could see in those red eyes?

"Ah, you're the new regenerator, right?" She questioned, and stuck her pale hand out.

"Yes. That's me." He forced himself to take it, careful that the trailing sleeves of his robe didn't touch her skin. Once a vampire touched something, it would take weeks for him to get out the scent.

Her fingers were cold and he let go as soon as was proper, hiding his hand behind his back to wipe the feeling of monster away. Of course she noticed but she let it go without a word, stepping back to her husband's side. If Michael hadn't known better, he'd have said he made the Vampire Queen uncomfortable. Experimentally, he grinned at her, making sure to stretch the expression as wide as it could go. Seras turned her head away quickly at the sight and moved to greet the sisters- it was the King who reacted, a low hiss escaping from between clenched teeth.

The priest turned the expression on him instead, green eyes meeting fiery red, and they remained in a kind of stasis for a time, neither side willing to back down.

This was the enemy and Michael would not blink first.

It was Paolo who eventually intervened, smoothly stepping into their line of sight to make polite chatter with the King. Michael turned away from the monarchs and sat down again at the table, decorum be damned. He was meant to kill these monsters, not make conversation with them.

When the pleasantries were out of the way, the royal couple advanced to the head of the table. Alucard pulled the queen's chair out for her and she sat with a smile, looking down the table to the assembled guests. He sat smoothly himself and everyone else took their seats once the monarchs were settled, leaving a sour taste in Michael's mouth. Every one of the humans here was meant to be a vampire hunter and instead they fluttered about these vampires, playing their game as if they had no choice.

He tried to ignore the voice in his head that explained that maybe they didn't.

"Thank you for coming," The king boomed, that sick grin reappearing on his face as he spoke. "My wife and I appreciate you taking the time to visit us on this joyous occasion. I understand many of you have had reservations about coming and I can assure you…" He trailed off, glancing down to Seras. The monster had the gall to wink at the draculina before he looked up again, making no attempt to hide the exchange or explain away the pause. "There is no need to feel uneasy. You are guests here and no vampire shall touch you while you are under my protection." The implied threat in his words had the humans at the table murmuring- if the king withdrew his protection, they were sitting ducks in the castle.

"Once again… Welcome to our house. Come freely. Go safely; and leave something of the happiness you bring."

The quotation from Dracula had Michael remembering how Johnathan Harker's visit ended, and he glanced over at Father Paolo with a raised eyebrow. The royal couple was planning something, and they were taking absolutely no pains to hide it from the humans.

With an unseen signal from the king, human servers entered the room with plates of steaming soup. They set one in front of each of the guests and Michael peered into his bowl questioningly, only to find that the monsters had a sense of humor. It was tomato soup- at least, he very dearly hoped it was- and the soup was indistinguishable from the red dishes set in front of the King and Queen. As they tucked into their meal with gusto, the humans sat, silently daring each other to try the dish first. It was impolite, but the vampire hunters could care less at that moment.

The queen looked up and frowned, as though the distrust of her guests had hurt her. Michael could see the barely concealed mirth behind her eyes. He'd heard that the queen was a stabilizing influence on the king, that she was the one who kept him from over-running the world with darkness and throwing every human into a cattle pen. The Vatican had suspected she was the sanity to his madness, even allowing her to treat peacefully with some of the senior officials.

It appeared those conjectures were wrong, though. No-Life Queen Seras was just much better at hiding it then her husband.

"Do you all truly think we would try and trick you?" She questioned, hurt layering every syllable. The king at her side smiled into his spoon, slurping blood as though to puncture her statement with the sound. Seras looked down with reproach in her eyes and Alucard set the spoon down, holding up empty hands in apology.

Perhaps they wanted to play up the divide between them- perhaps they wanted the image of a small woman who could speak sanity to her powerful husband, and a king who casually drank blood and smirked with fire in his eyes. It was smart. The queen would be let into the world's political circles as a representative of her husband, pleading for leaders who heard stories of the king's cruelty to not believe the lies. Seras was a familiar figure to everyone in the world- tabloids wrote stories of the vampire queen's movements, and desperately tried to uncover who she'd been in life. Children lived their whole lives with the familiar face of the Vampire queen on the news, even in countries where the vampires had minimal influence. She was the face of the Vampire monarchy, something soft and sweet for the people to sympathize with.

Very smart.

Michael came to the conclusion that the queen was just as bad as her husband, even as the human guests around him took their spoons and slowly raised the first bite of tomato soup to their lips. Cautious expressions changed into relieved ones and they began to tuck into their soup with gusto. Michael looked down at his own plate and pushed it aside, unwilling to eat anything that looked so much like what the monarchs had.

The king looked up and caught his eye, glancing down to the untouched tomato soup with a raised eyebrow before smirking. Once again, the monarch whispered something into his queen's ear and she looked up to see Michael's food untouched. With a concerned frown that Michael was almost certain was actually a well-disguised smile, Seras waved a servant over to the regenerator.

"Her majesty would like to know if there is anything else the kitchen may make for you," The man said lowly and the priest grunted.

"A loaf of bread, please. Any kind." It was hard to sneak anything red onto a loaf of bread.

xXxXxXx

A.N.

I had to break this chapter up into two parts, or else it would have been ridiculously long. I think i'm going to update every Friday from now on.

Let me know how you think I did with A and S! Or about anything else with the story. Thanks very much for reading.

-Poppy