Angelo Traversera glared at the fat envelope in front of him. NOT BOMB was stamped on it in large red letters. The Hellsing crest imprinted in an antiquated wax seal was the source of his anger.

He broke the seal and turned the envelope over. Two Vatican passports and a file folder fell out on his desk. He didn't look at the passports; his agents had already reported to him the result of their encounter with Anderson. Traversera tossed them at his aide and the small man hurried out of the room.

Alone in his office, Traversera looked at the folder as though it were the bomb it had claimed not to be. On top of the papers inside was a handwritten note:

My dear Angelo,

It has come to my attention that you are having difficulties with your dogs. I would suggest, as a person who is also familiar with problems with pets, that you beware the amount of slack you permit them. The next time they slip the leash, there is no guarantee your hounds won't be put down by the proper authorities. That would be pity to all of us who care about a good hunter.

The Iscariot bishop flushed at her veiled threat. The woman was unendurable. She was too young and too…female…to hold a position of such power. He turned back to the letter.

In the spirit of our agreement, I am forwarding you information regarding a pattern of vampire activity we have found here in England. I have included hardcopy as well as a data card for your use.

May God and His Majesty go with you,
Sir Olivia Vanderpoort Hellsing

Traversera scanned the documents the Hellsing woman had sent and buzzed an aide to take the card for analysis in their data section. Her information was comprehensive and concisely arranged. The stick and the carrot. It was not a subtle message, but he gave her credit for sending a clear one.

After reading for more than an hour, the bishop sat back and organized his thoughts and understanding of the information Hellsing had provided.

A cult of magic-wielding vampires who think their leader is the incarnation of Sekhmet? How much worse can this get?

ooo

Alucard watched his Master from the shadows. She already knew he was there, but she wasn't acknowledging him. He enjoyed this game they played – he would do things he knew annoyed her, she would reciprocate with gratifyingly graphic fantasies about torturing him or locking him away. She thought they kept her strong and independent, but Alucard saw them as encouraging steps toward becoming more like him. Alucard knew she didn't think about him like that in unguarded moments, but that was a matter for a time when he didn't have so much else to keep him from being bored.

She was compiling every reference she could from the information he'd given her from Vittorini. Because the cult was organized in cells similar to those of a terrorist group, they couldn't just track down the other members and exterminate them. The leader kept her identity concealed under a lioness-head mask of Sekhmet, which didn't help their efforts in treating the infection at its source.

Understanding the cult aspect of these vampires explained the thefts of the Egyptian artifacts, but did nothing to shed light on the amulet or the theft of the Gentileschi paintings. Vittorini didn't know, therefore Alucard did not know.

He had learned the secret of the burning cuts the sword-wielding vampires had inflicted. A minor magic, at best, that channeled a vampire's unnatural energy into heat, or even fire. A blow with one of those swords against a human would turn that person into a torch.

The mysterious leader always sent out two sword-trained vampires and one older vampire that was accomplished with mental attacks. It was usually a very competent arrangement, if they weren't up against a vampire of Alucard's strength, or one with Anderson's unique skills.

Speaking of his errant child…

ooo

Alex had not so much decorated his room as turned it into an armory. Alucard had not retrieved all of Alex's weaponry that first night because not all of it had been stored at his old church. With proper directions, his "Master" had agreed to retrieve the rest of his substantial arsenal. Alex's reasoning was that he would never again be able to put a blessing on a new blade, so it was a good idea to keep, and take care of, what he already had.

One of the few off-duty pleasures Paladin Alexander Anderson had had was sitting alone in his room, lovingly polishing and sharpening weapon after weapon; praying and running his hands over each one to test its strength and sharpness. That pleasure was now denied Alex by his unholy condition. Caressing his blades now would result in painful burns instead of a soothing meditation.

Which left the man (vampire) at loose ends when he didn't have duties for Hellsing. Exercise and sword practice could only take him so far.

"Getting bored so soon, Judas Priest? Most vampires find ways to keep themselves amused for at least the first lifetime."

"I've already had more than a full lifetime, and the entire foundation of that life has been taken from me." And then, almost an afterthought, "Master."

He scowled as his Master burst into gales of laughter. It took all of his self-control not to grab one of the many waiting blades off the wall and throw it at the source of most of his pain. Why shouldn't I? As fast as the thought was in his mind, his hands were grabbing bayonets and hurling them at the laughing vampire. He burned his uncovered hands in the process, but it was worth it. He stripped the rack next to him and grabbed a sword before Alucard had jerked out of his surprise at the attack. If he doesn't want me to attack him, I know he can stop me.

Alex rushed across the room and threw his entire strength behind a blow that would have cut the vampire in two if he'd still been standing there. He didn't even slow his movement when he felt Alucard's gun shoved into his spine. He spun into another slash as the deafening report of the Jackal's fire preceded a violent shattering of most of the ribs on his right side. He ignored the pain and kept coming, cutting pieces off of the man in red. The orphaned pieces writhed horribly on the floor before wiggling back to rejoin their source.

He knew Alucard was still laughing at him, his rage didn't care. It was the same battle-blind joy that had goaded him into attacking with a bayonet in his teeth after this same creature had blasted off both of Anderson's arms.

He heard Alucard laugh, "There's an idea!" The gun sounded again and his right arm fell away. Alex took over the sword in a left-handed hold that drove it into Alucard's chest. He felt his Master's gun shove up into his left armpit and the next shot left him in a position he'd been in before with the vampire - armless and raging.

"What are you going to do, Judas Priest? Chew me to death?" The first time Alucard had asked that question, it had been rhetorical, but this time Alex lunged at Alucard and caught him with his teeth. He latched on like an angry dog and tore at Alucard's neck. He had the first tantalizing taste of his Master's blood before Alucard pulled him away and flung him across the room to crash against the door.

The door smacked against Alex's body and was shoved open by an anxious, and armed, Alfonse. The butler surveyed the room, taking in Alucard standing with his throat torn up, riddled with bayonets, and a sword protruding from his chest; before catching sight of an armless Alex, who was just rolling off the floor from where he'd been pushed aside by the door. "What is going on in here?"

"Just a training exercise," Alucard responded smoothly as he pulled the sword out of his chest with a slight grunt. "We'll both be fine, but you could bring Anderson some extra blood with his meal. Oh, and a straw for him as well."

"Alucard, I believe that I can speak for Sir Olivia in mentioning that there are rooms better suited for these sorts of…ahem…exercises." He stared at Anderson. "Will you recover from this, Mr. Anderson?"

Alex leaned heavily against the wall. "Oh aye, I've done it before. I just hope I don't get a bad itch in the next few hours." He clamped his mouth down against a grin as he watched Alfonse's shocked expression quirk up into a smile. He felt better than he should, given his condition.

He grinned at Alucard, "Want to do this again tomorrow?"