Disclaimer: See Ch. 1.

Maxwell was intensely grateful to find himself safe in his bed when he woke. His dreams fled from his memory, but an ambiguous stabbing pain haunted his mind. Anderson's bayonet had been embedded in Maxwell's flesh, somewhere near his throbbing carotid artery... and he was covered in blood, thick blood that crawled over his skin like a mass of worms...

Vatican swine.

Alucard's voice in his mind startled Maxwell so that his entire bed shuddered for a moment. He recomposed himself in a moment, realizing that if he wanted the midian to leave him alone, he had to answer. Even in his mind, Maxwell's voice sounded uneven and fearful. What?

You dare to insult my Master yet again, Vatican swine? And yet you were too afraid to save your own comrade.

What do you want from me? Maxwell tried to keep his thoughts even, but he was terrified of Alucard's anger and could not chase away the images of the vampire killing him in countless ways. Anderson is already dead! I won't hurt Integra, or may Heaven strike me dead! As if confirming the oath, he crossed himself.

No, you won't hurt Integra, but we both know it's not God you fear. Maxwell grimaced and trembled hard as the vampire continued. You will apologize for what you said to her. You were wrong for once in your life, priest.

I didn't kill Anderson, Maxwell protested weakly.

I confess to Almighty God, and to you, my brothers and sisters, that I have sinned through my own fault...

Maxwell recognized the Penitential Rite of Mass, but was bewildered as to why the vampire was reciting it in his mind. What are you going on about?

...in my thoughts and in my words...

I never claimed not to have sinned!

...in what I have done...

What have I done that was so heinous you won't let me sleep?

...and in what I have failed to do.

Maxwell fell immobile and silent, remembering how he had lay on the ground in shock, his sword beside him, while Anderson had gone after the vampire. Bleeding, gasping, but other than that doing nothing. Was that his mortal sin?

Remember that, priest. You'll do well to practice what you preach. Even now, Maxwell could tell that Alucard was grinning. Pray to your God to forgive you, and maybe you won't burn in Hell.

I didn't kill him, Maxwell insisted again, more to himself than to Alucard.

You didn't save him.

Maxwell whimpered and clenched his teeth. Please just go.

The terrible crawling feeling from Maxwell's dream returned, viscous blood sliding over his body, and he kept his eyes tightly shut as the vampire spoke again. You're terrified of me, Catholic pig. I can smell it in your blood. You were terrified of that vampire, too, and that's why Anderson is dead. You pathetic ingrate.

Please stop. Leave me alone. Desperately, Maxwell began to speak audibly. "Get away from me or I'll... kill you in the morning..." The gelatinous blood dripped into his mouth, a metallic taste that slipped against his tongue and made it difficult to speak. "I'll kill you..." His mouth was full of it, and his words were coming out slurred. "Get your blood out of my mouth..." In attempting to speak he swallowed some of it. "Stop it..."

That's not my blood, pig. It's his.

"Why are you doing this to me?" Maxwell turned his face against the pillow and began to spit, futilely trying to rid his mouth of the substance invading it. "Why me, midian? Because it's me?"

I've told you what I have against you. All you need to do is remedy the situation.

Maxwell's eyes snapped open without his bidding. His mouth was empty except for the pillow he had been using to try to remove the blood. His face was wet with saliva and sweat, and the rest of his body was sweaty as well. The only lingering indication that there had ever been blood on him was the memory of the slippery sensation; and the taste, like raw meat and molten copper.

He felt too disturbed to pray, though God knew he could have used it. He merely stared, wide-eyed, at the ceiling of his bedroom until dawn broke. Then he went to find Integra.

The smell of her cigar led him to the sitting room, where she was smoking in the same chair she had been in earlier. She looked up, surprised to see him. "What are you doing awake so early?"

Maxwell took a deep breath. "I wanted... to apologize for what I said to you yesterday. It was unwarranted."

A slow smile spread across Integra's face. "Alucard?"

"You ordered him?" Maxwell tried to keep his anger in check. If he was harsh to her again, Alucard would be inclined to tear him apart.

She shook her head. "I didn't order him to terrorize you. All the same, I didn't order him not to terrorize you. Alucard is very protective of me, Maxwell." She motioned to the loveseat across from her chair. "Take a seat."

Maxwell sat down, facing her. "Animosity between us is only going to keep us from apprehending this vampire cult. I apologize for having been rude to you in our conversation last night."

"Thank you." She did not apologize herself, something that mildly angered Maxwell, but she had not even raised her voice the night before. "You are right, Maxwell. We must never let personal differences get in the way of our combined effort."

"Agreed." He leaned over, extending his hand.

She took it. "Until the threat to Europe is over, Hellsing and Iscariot will be fully allied."

He was barely beginning to notice how strong her grip was for the size of her thin hand when Walter came running downstairs. "Sir, there's been a problem."