"The hell?" was all Richter got out of his jaw.
Maestro Phillippe smirked. He walked towards the gigantic cage that housed Maria, then gave it a knock. He was answered by a snarl and a slam against the walls. It was a familiar sound of war, a sword striking against metal. Silver was softer than steel. Such a slash should have cut straight through. Yet, all Richter saw were bubbling dents. Strength and finesse faltered, the swordsman trapped within succumbing to the metal that repelled his vampiric powers.
"A simple, old-fashioned pressure plate," the ringleader explained. "As soon as something of significant mass was placed within the cage, it activated these slats and locked them into place. A handy little system, don't you think? I like to use it to catch harpies. With a little structural modification, it makes for a perfect vampire trap."
Richter's tongue betrayed his thoughts. "No!" He reached for a knife, then rushed the cage. "Alucard! Stand back!"
Thick fingers caught Richter's wrist. The vampire slayer snarled. He shoved the round little man into stone floors. The ringleader laughed, as if it were a part of a clown's act. Holding the knife away from his neck, he sneered at Richter's homicidal rage. "Go ahead! Slay me, and this world falls apart. Only my magic keeps it together. We'll all be lost to the void—you, me, that damned dhampir, and your precious little lady."
Richter drew back, keeping his blade raised. He called over his shoulder. "How is Maria?"
He could barely understand Alucard's voice through the sealed metal slats. "…a most impressive illusion. Nothing more than a doll, and yet, I sensed a heartbeat and heat from it."
New rage boiled in Richter's blood. "What? But that damned faerie said—"
"Your little scout wasn't wrong." Maestro Phillippe backed away from the distraught vampire hunter. "Let me fetch your friend."
The ringleader strolled his way to another medium sized cage. Richter's stomach sank, the trick clear before the magician could even perform it. Maestro Phillippe stopped before a snapping, keening peahen. With a single tap of his cane, green smoke erupted from the bird. Soft coughing came from the cloud. When it dissipated, there Maria was—trapped inside a cage so small that she had to keep on her knees.
"That's the key to magic, my good friends," Maestro Phillippe boomed. "You take the classics, and you put your own twist to them. Always keep the audience guessing."
Maria weaved her fingers through the cage. She grabbed onto Maestro Phillippe's jacket. "Stop this!"
"Fair enough, my lovely assistant," the ringleader smirked.
He pulled the cage to the corridor's path, then undid the lock. Crawling out, Maria landed with an ungainly plop on the ground. She pushed herself up, then snarled. One solid punch landed in the ringleader's gut. She was appalled, disgusted for being used as bait. She would have gone in for another strike, had Richter not grabbed her around the shoulders.
"Easy, tiger," Richter dragged her back. "You can knock his teeth out after we spring Alucard."
Maria nodded. She staggered, limping. The spirited fire that roared within her was smoking out, leaving something aching and woozy behind. She sank down, her legs burning. Richter readjusted his hold on her, then pulled her ahead. The last thing he needed was for her to faint for real. Even as strong as he was, carrying her around would be bothersome.
She took a twisted step, then groaned.
Richter's eyebrows furrowed. "Maria? What's wrong?"
"Richter, I'm…" An uncharacteristic gulp escaped her. "I'll show you."
Maria held a hand over one bandage, then pulled it back. He looked at her injuries, confused, terrified. She wanted to bless him for being able to stare into her wounds, that he didn't recoil from the ichor oozing from her. Fear did not take compassion from him. He held a hand near her thigh, inches away from covering her injury again. She grabbed him by the wrist, forcing it away from her legs.
"What the hell is that?" Richter asked.
"Your dear Maria had a most impressive battle with my guards." Maestro Phillippe dusted off his pants, then stood. "Pity the girl chose to fight them in such revealing clothing. It made getting an infection that much easier."
The ringleader's words only muddled Richter's mind further. "What?"
Maria's face flushed. She put a hand over her mouth, then jolted away from Richter. The last thing she ever wanted to do was infect the ones she loved. She shouldn't have even let him touch her. He looked at her with confused eyes, his brain now in full tilt.
"There's this girl—" Maria's explained. She stopped, then pointed at Maestro Phillippe. "His daughter. She's…she's got this terrible disease, Richter. All of the guards here have it too. They're…they're dying people, Richter. Rotting apart into sludge. And I—I'm going to—"
"Not yet," the ringleader cut her short.
Richter turned to Maestro Phillippe. He had regained his confidence, smoothed his clothes once more. How easy it was to get the man into his hands. All it took was a theft of his hope, then a tiny promise. He strolled past them, approaching the cage keeping Alucard contained. With one pat, he sneered. Its contents were as good as his.
"Maria's infection is new. Treatable." He rested his hand, trying to feel for weight within the cage's guts. "All of this can be undone with but a single dose of medicine. Just leave me your dhampir, and I will heal her. What say you to that, hmm? A life for a life?"
"There's a cure?" Richter was already on the hook, ready to be reeled in.
Maria's words were no longer warbling with fear. "Richter, no! It's—Alucard has to—"
"I'll do it."
The dhampir's determination caught Maria off guard. Her stomach clenched. She couldn't ask him to be part of such a vile process. Not again. Nor could she think of consuming the noxious panacea that would save her. She opened her mouth to protest, then shut her jaw again. This was the only way she had a chance at living. If it meant that he had to take a hit for her…
She screwed up her courage. So, this was the way it had to be. "If this is what he wants, then fine. I concede."
Richter snarled, then rolled his head. He glared at her, trying to figure out her game. Her face was frozen with stony determination. His heart jerked. That wasn't a face that suited her. It was a mask of stoic bravery, one she had taken from Alucard. One that hide turbulent thoughts.
Clapping a hand onto Maria's shoulder, Richter surrendered. "Please. Save her."
"Of course." Masetro Phillippe nodded. "If you would follow me."
/***/
Neither human companion wanted to see this.
Maria knew this room. It was the workshop that she had been in before. Placed along the tables were new surgical implements, chairs, two cages. Alucard's confines had been dragged in by sentries. The other was new, disturbing. Within its bars sat a young unicorn, no more than a year out of its first velvet shedding. Maria didn't dare look at the poor creature. No matter which way she saw the events about to unfold, she knew one thing—that unicorn was going to mutate and go mad from this perverse science.
And Alucard…
She curled over her injuries. No. She just needed to get through this once.
"What's he going to do?" Richter asked.
Maria's shoulders sank. "There's this…product of forbidden arts. It can cure anything, but…the process of creating it is unsanitary. He's going to take some of Alucard's blood and—"
"Oh, vile!" Richter grimaced. "Let me guess—do something completely disgusting to that unicorn?"
"And then I've…" Maria scrunched up her face. "I don't have to drink it, do I?"
A rumbling wave of laughter escaped Maestro Phillippe. "Sometimes, to keep living, we must take on indignities. However, using some of this substance as a salve for your wounds wouldn't be a terrible idea."
The ringleader reached for one of the tools on his workshop. It was a peculiar contraption. The front of it had a long needle jammed into it. One hollow channel was drilled through the needle. A glass tube the size of a mason jar sat behind that. All of this was mounted on top of a firing mechanism, something like a crossbow's base and trigger.
Maestro Phillippe gave a whistle. One golden guard came to his command. The ringleader nodded towards Alucard's cage. The drone got the hint. It spun a key into its hand, then pressed it against the cage's lock. Slats fell back as the door opened. It reached within, then yanked Alucard out. With one pull, it dragged Alucard next to the work bench, then dropped him.
The dhampir's expression remained void, any terror or anger curbed. How easy it would have been to split the ringleader into two segments with a single slash of his sword, even with a guard man-handling him. Not that such an act of violence would have done any of them good. He lowered his head, then sat down on the workbench, cloak crumpled beneath him.
"Go ahead," Maestro Phillippe ordered. "You know what to do."
Alucard nodded. "Now that I know why I do it."
The ringleader snarled at him. "What did you think this was for? My health? I am not so selfish."
The urge to say something sharp and nasty boiled in the dhampir's blood. He swallowed such bile. Maria needed him. He had no choice but to behave. He could spew venom later, if he had enough liquid left in his body for that.
Black gloves reached for white garments. With a single tug, Alucard undid his cravat. Maria's face flushed. She wasn't sure if her reaction was out of curiosity or dread. It was impossible to think of Alucard as having any form outside of his clothes. And yet, there one piece went, peeled away like molting skin. Fingers reached for pearled buttons, the clasp on his cape. One. Two. Three. All fell away, popped open.
Sinews emerged from cloth, a sharp collarbone peeking through the opened gap in Alucard's shirt. A gasp escaped Maria. It wasn't from exhilaration. She folded her fingers over her nose, unsure if she wanted to block out the sight. Black holes pierced the side of his neck, down his shoulders, into every available channel for drawing blood. Horrible thoughts flooded her mind. Were his arms like this? His legs? Did he have thirty holes in him, thirty nights of torture inflicted on him?
Alucard pulled his hair clear from the right side of his neck. "Be swift."
"As you say," Maestro Phillippe agreed.
The magician pressed down on the device's trigger. He jammed it into the side of Alucard's neck. Both Richter and Maria cringed. That was hardly the manner any decent doctor would have gone about doing such a task. He drew back on the device's handle, a hemorrhage flowing into its glass container. An empathetic pang made Maria shiver. Alucard's blood was dark, red, as human in appearance as her own. And his face—
No. She couldn't look at that. Whatever was there—pain, fear, slackening consciousness—that was not for her to see.
The container was nearly filled when Alucard began to sink. He locked his elbows, fighting whatever force was pulling him under. Fingers clutched to the workshop table. A few more seconds passed, and the sting in his neck was gone. He clapped his left hand onto his neck, then reached for his cravat. The ringleader came back with a thick wad of cotton, then placed that against his neck. Alucard retied his cravat over it, finishing the makeshift bandage.
He slumped forward. Subdued instincts gnawed at him, addled from the piercing blow and blood loss. The presence of the humans around him was overwhelming. Heartbeats, heat, sweat—nauseating. Two creatures fought in his head. The vampire was hungry, feral, angry. The human was disgusted, weak. Crushed, as soon as he locked eyes with Maria. She fidgeted to move towards him, but stayed back, fearful of her own disease and hurting him.
If ever there was a time he desired to share such human affection…
There was a splatter on the workbench. Maestro Phillippe tossed aside another filled vial of blood. An unnatural queasiness flooded Alucard's stomach. It was enough fluid out of the unicorn that injecting Alucard's blood into it wouldn't cause any cardiac distress. A tiny bleat escaped the animal, and then it went still, trembling as tainted blood was pushed into its body.
As the ringleader affixed another bandage to it, Maria spoke, her voice weak with revulsion. "H-how long?"
"Just a few minutes," Maestro Phillippe replied. "Its liver needs time to catch toxins from the vampire's blood. Once the more unsavory, corrosive portions are removed, a blend of the two regenerative blood types will be formed. Mixes like oil and water, though. The solution hardly remains for over half an hour."
Richter crossed his legs, leaning forward. "There's really no other way to do this?"
That brought a wicked smile from the ringleader's mouth. "Unicorns only heal others by taking disease into themselves. Something as toxic as that plague would kill it outright. Doesn't even do enough healing to make its death worthwhile. It may experience some gruesome side effects from filtering vampire blood, but at least it gets to live that way."
Given what happened to the last unicorn, no one else in the room found that as a truly ethical alternative.
"I suppose we don't even want to know how you came across such a solution," Richter huffed.
"Happened to find it in a discounted necromancy tome, of all things." Maestro Phillippe shook his head. "It didn't have the precise measurements for an effective concoction, nor warnings about its poor solubility, but with some experimentation, I found the right recipe."
Maria rolled her head to the right. "How…how many did you experiment on?"
"Two unicorns and seven vampires before I got it correct." He threw a meaty arm around Alucard, bursting his personal bubble in such a grand violation that Richter and Maria tensed. "A vampire cannot tolerate the same loss of blood that a human can. Fresh blood degrades in their veins too quickly, but their organs require the same amount of oxygen a human needs. That's why they're so greedy for the stuff. Their bodies can't make enough good blood to sustain themselves, so they have to get it where they can!"
No wonder Alucard looked like hell. The amount taken from him would be rough for a normal human. For a dhampir? Not enough to go into shock, but definitely enough to knock him off his feet. Hair on the back of Maria's neck raised. Richter was right—she should have brought him something more substantial to eat when they first rescued him.
The ringleader slid off the workbench, then began fussing with the unicorn once more. Alucard stared at the leftover blood from the creature on the table. That was to be his to dispose of—to consume. Cooling, coagulating unicorn's blood, an off-color shade of maroon. A substance so sickeningly sweet that it made the back of his mouth scrunch up and gag. He glanced away, finding Maria's emotions mirroring his own. How much worse this had to be for her. Humans hardly ever consumed any blood, save for the odd pudding recipe. This was going to be a putrid experience—even if it gave her life back to her.
Maestro Phillippe pulled back from the unicorn. Its cries were warped, containing a disturbed tone to them. Maria stiffened. If something from Alucard did that to any animal, could she really trust putting that corrupted animal's substances into her own body? She jolted again as the ringleader popped the glass container free from the blood-letting device. He passed it to her, then tapped its bottom.
"On the house," he smirked.
Maria sucked in a breath. Wounds first. She nodded to Richter, then pointed at a roll of bandages. "Pass those, please." As soon as he did, she tore off her old dressings. The injuries beneath were throbbing, blackened. She poured the deep red mixture into her gashes. It burned, then bit like a frosty wind. She hissed, then continued, dabbing and patting every last nick.
She wound the bandage roll around her legs. Even as she dressed the wounds, flesh was growing back on her thighs. Pale as Alucard's skin at first, then bright pink as healthy blood pulsed through it. Damned sharp magic. No wonder Maestro Phillippe put such faith into it. It certainly wasn't a cheerful attitude and a placebo saving her.
Half of the glass container remained by the time she was done mending her injuries. "Do you want to—"
"You'd better finish it off, my dear," Maestro Phillippe ordered.
Maria balked.
Alucard grimaced. So, she needed encouragement. He reached for the cooling surplus meant for his meal, then raised the glass' end to Maria. The lady shrunk down. A toast, was it? She lifted her glass, then repeated his actions. Fine. She could drink milk. She could eat eggs and honey. She could do this.
She threw back the glass and almost vomited.
The taste alone was enough to make her eyes bead up with tears. A tartness that ran bitter, metallic undertones clinging to her taste buds. The texture was slick, slimy, sinking too smoothly over her tongue and teeth. Colder than tea, warmer than beer. Her tongue clicked the roof of her mouth, and she about lost it again. If she could take it all in one chug, then she'd be stronger than any man that ever sat at any bar.
When she had downed the last of it, she grabbed another wad of bandages and cleaned out her mouth.
"Are you alright?" Richter asked.
She nodded, but couldn't speak. Her brother-in-law rubbed her shoulders. Outside of watching zombies tear a living man to pieces and childbirth, that had to be one of the most repulsive acts Richter had ever seen. He didn't know what fortitude that girl had inside her, but he knew he never wanted to challenge it. Taking another hunk of bandages, he cleaned her chin.
Richter raised his attention to Alucard. The dhampir was worried, pale features dropped in an unusually human display of emotion. A feeling as sharp as a serrated dagger stabbed Richter's heart. That damned fool really did love her. No wonder he was willing to face captivity once more to save her life. The softness in his eyes, the lowness of his eyebrows, the set purse of his lips. Had he not been so pallid, his canine teeth so sharp, his eyes so eerie and brilliant…
If only other humans could look at him and so easily see his mother's kindness.
"Thank you for your aid," Maria murmured.
Of all the things Maestro Phillippe had expected her to do, thanking him wasn't on his list of expectations. "You are welcome, my child." He opened a hand, then waved towards the looking glass. "When you are ready."
There was a groan from the workbench. One of the sentries snatched Alucard, holding him by his throat. Maria's stomach knotted up. What was she ready to do—abandon him? She slipped a hand into her pocket. It was empty, betraying her. Lord only knew where the magic stone once within it ended up in this maze. They had to have an escort to leave—one that was not keen on sharing his toys. It wasn't like she could smuggle Alucard out. He probably didn't have the stamina to shape-shift for very long. Even if she could tuck him away in her shirt and run, that ringleader would just hunt after him until one of them was dead.
"Maria?" Richter asked.
She looked up. Did Richter have any plans? Most of his began with home invasion and ended with extermination. Damned that Maestro Phillippe was human, that he had control of this little world. She sighed, then rolled her shoulders. Even hitting him seemed like out of line after what he had done for her.
If only he could have the same kindness for all creatures.
"I need a minute," Maria whispered as she backed away from the mirror. "I…I want to say goodbye."
Maestro Phillippe nodded. He waved his hand, forcing his guard to ease off the dhampir. Alucard sank down, struggling to regain his composure, rubbing his tender wound. He looked up, finding Maria standing before him, eyes watering. There was anger, fear, worry, love—tumultuous blue waves all crashing together, threatening to spill tears down her face. She pulled one hand forward, then froze. Teeth set against each other, her throat locking. Whatever she needed to say or do, she couldn't do it.
So, he would.
Alucard reached forward, then wrapped her within his cloak. Maria's heart missed a few pumps. His left arm tucked around her waist, his chin resting on her forehead. She went numb from shock. Alucard was no cuddler. What was he doing? Her skin prickled, confused. She felt like time itself had stopped.
She saw Richter's stopwatch in Alucard's right hand and knew that it that it had.
