-Chapter Three Re-cap-

"Hullo Lord Alucard. Nice night to die, ain't it?"

X-_NoT_mY_mAsTeR_-X

Chapter Four:

The Seas Be Ours

The first strike never came. Dark furrowed her eyebrows. She should have been shot by now.

But she kept her eyes closed. Sometimes predators like Alucard liked to draw out the anguish of their prey by holding off the shot until their intended target looks at them. Dark knew that's what she liked to do. But without any weapon and no strength to speak of, Dark wasn't in any position to do so. She shifted slightly against the wall, wincing as her body screamed its aversion to that movement. She heard him walk closer.

Point blank…huh. Guess it'll be quick this way, aye?

Dark tightened her closed eyes even more, waiting for the click and then the bang and then the end. Again. Nothing. Ever so cautiously, Dark opened her left eye, and peered through it at Alucard. He was a vision in red, his vermeil eyes glinting dangerously from behind his glasses. Her breath hitched in her throat - his mere presence was overpowering. Her head lolled back as the urge to present her throat to the masterful vampire in front of her swamped her. He was just so…much stronger than her.

"Ahh…"

Dark closed her eyes again and her head dropped forward - completely on purpose this time. She felt like a stupid little girl in front of her crush. Stammering like that. Foolish. She was a pirate. No. Not just that. She was a pirate Lord. She shouldn't be afraid of him…she shouldn't…and she wasn't. No, it wasn't fear that had her shaking. She was excited. After all these years. After all these years, she had met someone who got her dead heart moving. She wanted to fight.

I can't…Zounds, I want too…I can't.

Dark groaned again as she picked herself up, leaning heavily on the wall behind her, not trusting her legs to hold her up. With a metallic sound, she drew her scimitar and dug the point into the ground. She grimaced at the sound, twisting her face into a snarl. Brows furrowed, Dark chanced a look at Alucard. He was looking at her. Her head dropped down and her shoulders shook.

Dark was laughing. Her face twisted to a grin, and her entire body shuddered with the silent laughter.

"Sorreh, Lord Alucard. Strict orders an' all that. I'm not allowed ta fight anyone…"

She lurched forward and had to make a stutter-step to keep from landing flat on her face.

"Fu-argh!"

Pain lanced through her body, triggering a spurt of blood from her mouth. Damn Anderson and his love of cutting up her insides. She hissed a word through her clenched teeth and another short spurt of blood came from between her lips. It rolled down her chin, tracing a red pattern down her neck before staining her blouse.

"Heh…sorry about the blood. Anderson doesn't like the cursin'."

Dark managed a weak smile as she wiped blood off her chin, smearing it on the white fabric of her blouse. She eyed the blood warily, as if considering trying to lick it off the fabric, but a warning twinge in her gut warned her against it. Dark re-came to the conclusion that she really hated Anderson. She straightened slowly, wincing as her body made its disapproval of that motion known.

"You're here with Anderson?"

Dark laughed, blood-froth spilling from her lips with the motion. She looked up at Alucard, who she was just noticing was the slightest bit taller than Anderson, and grinned, flashing teeth stained with her own blood.

"Yah can say that…"

The click of a gun coming up to point at her head garnered another short laughing fit. Dark's purple eyes lit up with mischief. Even in what could become her final moments, she could crack a joke. Her personality was incorrigible, and she really couldn't help herself.

"…But you can say alotta things, can'tcha?"

It seemed that mortal peril did not sway her sense of humor, childish as it may be. Dark pulled her sword from the ground and hefted the weapon with arms that suddenly felt very heavy. Ah well, death was decided. It was just the manner in which she died that still needed to be decided. She resigned herself to the fact that she wasn't going to enjoy her final hour. Such was her un-life.

"Anderson an' his…" Dark paused, looking for a word that was not a curse to describe her captors. "…handlers, you could say, decided ta bring me out tanight."

Alucard gave her a strange look, and Dark just beamed a smile at him.

"Yah, I belong to the Vatican…kinda like you belong to Lady Hellsing. Feel free to shoot whenever. I know it's coming up sometime tonight…If not you, then Anderson'll keep up wif the seal an' I'll be as good as dead."

Dark shrugged, as if the abrupt end to her un-life was nothing. After "living" for so long, Dark had no qualms about seeing what truly was at the end of it all. Even if she wasn't going to enjoy what she saw.

"An' I really only see et ta be fair tha' I tell you…"

The woman stopped mid-sentence as blood came from her mouth. She fell to her knees, clutching her stomach. A strange gurgling scream ripped from her throat as she doubled up, her own blood spilling from her mouth and nose. She let go of her sword, and contented herself with whimpering sadly as pain not even she could stand washed over her.

"…Anderson…I didn't even do anything'…"

"Where is Judas Priest?"

Dark looked up, her eyes now the same dark blue shade as the waters of the deepest ocean. Her brows were furrowed, not in anger or frustration, but confusion.

"…Who?" She paused, looking up at Alucard, until with a bright grin and a triumphant straightening of her back, "Oh! You mean Anderson! He's ah…"

Another pause as she closed one eye in concentration and lifted an arm, her index finger pointing straight out. She moved her arm a bit to the left, up and then slightly back to the right.

"About 30 some odd feet thataways. But I won't go rushin' off…he's comin' this way rather fa-"

"AMEN!"

"-st."

Anderson burst through the door, silver blades gleaming dangerously. Dark winced, but still kept a semblance of a pleased grin on her face. She looked up to Alucard (who was a freaking giant from her position kneeling on the floor) and hacked out a laugh along with more blood.

"Told 'ya."

Dark looked from Anderson to Alucard, her eyes picking out the contrasting colors between the two men. Alucard wore red and black, Anderson wore black green and silver. Red and green…

They look like Christmas standing together…

Dark bust out laughing at the thought, drawing a strange look from both men. Her laugh was altered by the thrashing that had been done on her insides and general misuse of her voice, but it was definitely still a laugh. Both very tall men looked at her and she looked back, eyes wide as if she had been caught with her hand in the blood bank.

"…Sorry…carry on killing each other…"

The two very tall men stared at Dark a bit longer, then went back to what they seemed to enjoy oh so much.

That would be yelling at each other and generally causing a ruckus.

"En the Name of owah Lahrd, Jesus Chrahst Ah will wahpe you and yahr filth froom the surface of this fair ahth."

Dark sighed, one eyebrow lifted in exasperation. Always with the filth and the annihilation and the blahblahblah. Dark shivered, as if a chill had settled in her bones…which was weird - she never felt cold. She shook her head, hoping that the motion would make the bone-chilling cold would go away. The cold grew colder, to the point where it felt like fire. She clutched at her arms, doubling over as Alucard and Anderson raged at each other, bullets and swords flying every which way.

She watched, her eyes fading from purple to lavender, and finally settling on a very light sky blue. She may be basically down and out, but watching a master Nosferatu do battle was something she never passed on. He wielded his guns magnificently, both to attack and defend when he felt like defending. Even Dark could see that Anderson was no match for Alucard, though Alucard was taking far more damage than Anderson.

So, what now? Do we carry on this fight until the end of the world when God and his demons ravage the earth and pass judgment on us wicked souls?

The words came unbidden to her mind, a memory of a battle long past when she was still young. Back when she was still actually alive. The retort, still funny after the long centuries brought a smile to her face.

Or you could just give up.

The more Dark thought on it, the funnier it became until she started laughing. At first it was just a tremble in her shoulders, but that grew to a shake, and that grew to a audible chuckle and that expanded into a full-blown guffaw until Dark was laughing with her mouth wide open, head thrown back and her entire body shaking with the mirth she found in that memory.

She stood, still quaking with laughter, her blade hanging limply from her hand. She didn't care that she sounded deranged - she was insane. At her age, it was rather hard to keep up a façade of sanity, and this bout of insanity made her feel a little bit better about the cold in her body and the hatred in her veins.

Her grip tightened about the hilt of her blade, and she hefted the weapon with arms that suddenly felt stronger. The cold seemed to leave with the movement, but Dark wasn't very much concentrated on that. She swung the blade experimentally, the heft of the weapon lessening as her muscles warmed to the favored weapon of old times. The laughter subsided into a soft chuckle and with the next supposed opening, Dark leapt into the fray, a unintelligible shout ripping from her throat.

It was all about the joy of the battle as she began moving to attack. She was situated between Anderson and Alucard, but she didn't mind. This was where she felt best, she found. The cold left her completely, and instead, the once-familiar blood song rose in her. She found herself moving in steps and patterns that she hadn't practiced in many a year, bullets and blades rending the air about her with deadly intent.

Dark was lost to the music of battle, the crescendos and diminuendos dictating every step and turn with precision. She practically danced across the battle-scarred room, legs kicking out to act as counterbalance to her movements that scored deep. Alucard's blood splashed across her body, coating her own blood with his own. The smell itself was enough to galvanize her into fiercer action, the taste of freedom already sweet on her tongue and grew sweeter still with ever cut she opened on him.

Her laughter faded, replaced by the near-manic grin of a woman possessed by the sole urge to complete a task. She wanted freedom for herself and for her fledgling bad enough to destroy anything in her path. Dark felt her long-gone power come back, filling her with new strength - strength that had been absent for so long. She didn't question it, but she used it, stepping faster and striking harder.

A bullet caught her in the shoulder, spinning her around. Dark looked at the wound, grinned and shrugged, the flesh already in the process of healing, muscle and bone re-forming at an alarming rate. She flexed the injured arm, the heat in her blood practically screaming in her ears.

Anderson's blades erupted from behind her, and she didn't flinch - he couldn't hurt her, lest he lose her servitude. And in order to stop Alucard he needed her help so she was-

A blade grew from her throat, sending holy pain through her entire body.

Dark spun, mouth moving in curse words that could not be enunciated with her now-sliced voice box. She reached behind her with one hand and pulled the blessed blade from her body, letting it drop to the ground with a frown. Her mind slowed down from the battle rage, and began processing the fact that Anderson had just stabbed her on purpose. The heat grew to a boil, but her heart was still.

"Anderson. What have you done?"

Rage grew in her, and with it, the long-suppressed power of a old vampire rose like gore in her throat. He had broken his word.

Another bullet ripped through her body. She turned to Alucard and hissed, her eyes narrowed.

"Shoot me again, I dare you."

He shot her again. Figures.

Dark shrugged the new holes off, and turned back to Anderson. Her eyes were glowing red, all previous signs of weakness gone. Dark of the Fey was back, and she was pissed.

"You broke your word Anderson. Our deal is off, and I-"

A weak burst of pain came from her hands, and with another growl, Dark dropped her sword and ripped her black gloves off. They dropped to the floor, now nothing more than tattered fabric. She left the sword where it lay, the rage in her not allowing for something as elegant as a blade. She would rip the oath breaker in front of her to pieces with her own hands.

"None of that. I will have none of that Anderson."