The Hellsing mansion's library was large but close. Heavy, old furniture, pungent with impregnated cigar smoke, was scattered around amid shelf after shelf and stack after stack of books. For the most part they were old, leather bound. The core of the collection had belonged to Integra's great-great-grandfather, Professor Abram Van Helsing, which he had later anglicised to Abraham Hellsing. She looked at them now, wondering what the distinguished occultist would think, were he to see his descendant, a member of the ranks of the living dead, standing amid his collection of books. The same thing all her ancestors would think, probably: traitor. But, she was slowly realising, she no longer cared. She had done it because it had to be done. There was no going back.

She smiled slightly. No, never any going back.

She turned to where Seras sat on an ancient, worn sofa, leafing slowly through an old romantic novel that Integra believed had belonged to her mother. She walked over slowly and sat down next to the elder vampire, attempting to read over her shoulder. Seras squirmed slightly, then closed the book.

"Is it any good?" asked Integra

"No idea," replied Seras, nonchalantly, putting the book down and turning to her fledgling. "What do you want?"

"Seras…" she said slowly, "I want to know something…I remember you mentioning, once, that you'd slept with Alucard…Why?"

Seras looked away from her, down at the floor, silent.

"I mean," continued Integra, "I always thought your relationship was more…I don't know, father and daughter, almost. He never seemed interested in you…" She trailed off.

Seras smiled slightly. "Not whilst I was a fledgling. When I was in the transitional phase, like you are now, Alucard saw me as weak, a coward. He simply cannot understand a mental attitude that would lead one to reject power, despite that powers cost. I think he would do anything for a bit more strength, or speed, or magic. Anyway, whilst I still refused to willingly accept his proffered blood, he looked on me as little more than a wayward child…when I became a No Life Queen, however, well, lets just say his views changed. It was just after you'd married your husband…he came into my room. I thought he was depressed, though he could have been faking it…It's just I've never seen him depressed before, it was so…odd. He wasn't even grinning. I've seen him grin while he gets ripped in two. He looked like a dog who'd just been kicked…I didn't know what to do with him. I thought later it might have all been a trick…I could never be quite sure. He's quite a manipulator. Anyway…he ended up finding comfort in my arms, and I must say that, trickery or no, once he got into it he was most…enthusiastic." She smiled, sadly, "I hated it though…it was the night I lost my virginity…I felt so violated." She sighed.

"I know exactly what you mean" Said Integra, slowly nodding.

"Talking of which"…said Seras, laying the book on a small table and sitting back, to face across from her fledgling, one arm along the back of the sofa and the other resting on the arm, "how's your family, Integra?"

She looked away, slightly. "I've been avoiding them…Julian seems to be taking things rather well, I must say…I dare say young miss Mackenzie from the typing pool is helping him in his extremity."

"The bastard…" murmured Seras.

"Indeed," Said Integra, "But a justified one, at least in his own view. He's too much of a religious man too have ever cheated on me when I was human, though I know I left his libido drastically unsatisfied. But no, as far as he can see, marriage vows are fulfilled. I'm dead, we're parted, time for a new flame. He seems to have overlooked sex out of marriage, but well, that's just like him."

Seras laughed. "It's not like we could ever do it in marriage…" she said, smiling at Integra.

"And anyway," continued Integra, "When you're damned already…" she sighed.

"Don't think like that!" Said Seras. "I don't think it's automatic. If we protect the innocent and do the sacred task appointed to Hellsing, how can we be said to be servants of evil? We don't tear out children's throats or write blasphemous messages in their blood. We dispatch those that do, how can that be evil?" she smiled encouragingly at the glum looking vampire, "and besides, it's not like we even ever have to find out what happens after you die, not for a very long time yet, anyway. Come on, cheer up…"

Integra smiled slightly, and moved closer to Seras. "One night at a time, eh?"

"Precisely!"

"Well then, my current problems are simple, I suppose. I still have to rule Hellsing, I still have to ensure my son is a good successor, and, if I'm allowed to think ahead, I must plan how I am to disappear and then re-appear as a vampire…I suppose it would be too obvious if I were to keep my mortal name, wouldn't it…"

"What a great opportunity!" Said Seras, smiling happily, "You can choose whatever name you want, personalise yourself." She giggled. "So, any thoughts?"

"Oh, I don't know…" Integra frowned slightly, "I was thinking possibly Laura."

"Laura? Isn't that what Buvanci called herself?"

"Yes…but I wouldn't call myself Laura for that reason…It would be for the same sort of reason Buvanci herself chose the name."

"Oh, and what was that?"

"Laura is a character in the story 'Carmilla' by Le Fanu. She's a sweet, innocent young girl, the daughter of an Austrian nobleman, who falls under the homo-erotic predation of the beautiful golden haired vampiress Carmilla."

Seras thought over that for a moment, then her brow creased in mock anger. "And just what are you implying, dearest?" She said that last word with a mocking tone. Integra laughed. "Absolutely nothing, Draculina."

"Oh! You know how much I hate that diminutive…even if it's technically accurate…"

"Yes well, I thought Mina a tad too obvious…"

"You're being very wicked, Integra." Said Seras, frowning, a slight grin playing across her face. "Do you know what happens to wicked little vampires?"

"Not exactly, but I can't wait to find out…"

Alucard looked at the piece of paper. There were four little black and white photographs printed on it with ink, some working of this 'computer' Walter seemed to have been enthusing about since the mid-seventies. What was wrong with a type-writer, or even pen and ink, he couldn't see. He must be getting stuck in his ways…he hadn't updated his mode of dress for years, and his speech was still touched with the archaic…damn Van Helsing for locking him in that cellar. It was amazing what forty years away from society could do to ones sense of fashion.

So, he was looking for these four FREAKS, and Walter wanted them alive? More trouble than it was worth…oh well, here it goes.

Alucard was not one for subtlety, not when he was on the job and there were FREAKS about, and the club whose iron door he had just kicked twenty feet into the middle of the crowded dance floor was chock-full of the maggots, and the rest were ghouls or potential prey. Scanning the packed room with every sense at his disposal, which came to far more than the regular five, he began to fire at those FREAKS he had not been sent to capture. Silver bullets connected with chests and skulls, Alucard's mind drawing subconscious patterns from the lines of tracers and the sprays of decomposing gore that splattered from his victims. The humans were screaming, some of the FREAKS too, even as the first turned to dust. There was a hiss behind him, and he flipped the Jackal over his shoulder, putting a round into the face of the leaping FREAK who had been about to tear open his back. He crossed his arms over, firing left and right, clearing out doorways. The Jackal clicked empty and he ejected the magazine, reaching one handed into his jacket for another clip as he shot back at the encroaching hoards with the Casul.

He saw one of his targets. The FREAK had a gun in his hand. Alucard fired a single bullet from the newly reloaded Jackal that tore off the top of the trash vampire's gun and his shoulder to boot, throwing his severed arm across the room. He screamed in pain and tried to run, only to lose a knee. Satisfied he wasn't going anywhere, Alucard turned, seeing two more of his targets. They were quicker than him. One opened up with a machine gun, the bullets smashing into him like a blizzard of hot steel, tearing at his clothing and flesh. He cackled nastily as he felt the stinging pain. Excellent…two more bullets removed the arms from one of the FREAKS, and he dropped to the floor, screaming. The other, a young woman, turned to run. Alucard quickly shot the leg off a table next to him and hurled the splintered piece of wood at her, piercing her through the heart. She gasped and sank to the floor, paralysed by the stake…that just left one more…the main dance floor was empty now, everyone either dead or fleeing…he strode across the room to a door, kicked it down, along down a corridor, his fist and boots smashing in door after door. He eventually discovered the last one, or at least the dust that remained of him, sitting in a chair in a small office. There was a gun lying across the table. Alucard spat at the thought of how weak a creature he must have been to be able to commit suicide, and turned from the room to where Hellsing troops in the main room were already rounding up his 'captives'.

Alucard sneered and shook his head as he walked out and off into the night. Too short, not enough of a challenge. They were no fun these FREAKS…Almost as bad as humans, and their blood tasted foul…he needed a proper challenge. Oh well, for the moment, anything would do to take his mind off the disaster he had made of his love-life, through no fault of his own. It seemed that he was cursed in more ways than one. He chuckled at this thought. Yes…all of god's creation turns against poor old Alucard.

He grinned. And who the hell was winning, eh?

Walter sighed. Nothing. Nothing at all. Still silent after all these years. Even when they had been told that Hellsing knew all about Das Millennium, even when they had been shown photographs of the scientists who must have planted the chips in their bodies, still they refused to speak. Maybe the chips did that, maybe it was some psychological conditioning…they would kill themselves to try and avoid capture, and even if they were captured, they would say nothing. These four were special because they were original FREAKS, chipped, rather than those cursed by FREAK blood. But they were as useless as all the others Hellsing had captured. Each one was now just a pile of dust and a silver chip in a jar, shot cleanly through the heart with silver bullets. But where did that leave the investigation? All the suspects were dead, all the leads were dead, the only clue they had pointed to an organisation annihilated years ago. And the knights conference was in less than two weeks. He would have to put something together for Integra to present to them. All he could hope for now was that the various adverts and phone calls he'd sent out to get in touch with the neutral inhuman underground would be listened to. They had to find out what was going on in the country, and fast. Meanwhile he had young Arthur to cope with…the child suspected his father was sleeping with his secretary, yet he still couldn't understand about his mother…wise beyond his years and yet still blinded by love. What an odd world this was.