Righty-o ladies and gentlemen, thank you very much to everyone the read and reviewed. Your reviews are very important to yours truly. As I just put my disclaimer in last chapter, well I'll say same rules apply and will throughout this story. What is mine is mine what belongs to others belongs to others. Alright, please enjoy!
Three pairs of eyes instantly, turned, lifted, or in the one instant were propped up toward, the vampire Alucard. The master vampire seemed to drink down all that attention as he sauntered forward, coming through the door that Ceres had fallen through as she listened to what was going on previously in the hall.
Now having become a part of the action, Ceres just looked up at her master from her bed comprised of two arms that felt like steel covered fur. Her eyes were wide; irises seemed to have been consumed by her pupils. She looked like an injured dog, like she had been kicked one too many times, and those eyes were definitely a sign of shock. Both vampire and werewolf recognized to look, it is a prey look. Any predator would recognize it. With that thought, the man with the swords spoke again.
"Well, blood sukar…it seems, dat toy o yours is in ey bad way. Looks ta be shock! Guess she lots ta much blood."
Predators always recognized that look, it is a prey look.
Alucard regarded Anderson with slow crimson eyes, eyes without their normal covering of orange shades. The vampire was without his usual battle garb, standing in the hallway. To any that had before seen him, perhaps he looked a bit underdressed. To Jon, he just looked sleek and dangerous.
All the vampire wore was a grey suit, a body suit that seemed to well mimic an actual suit that is except for the fact that there was no separation between pants and suit jacket. Every thing was one piece, save for the white shirt that had collar and folds within the jacket, and the tie which was a neat bowtie. Or rather not a bow tie, but just a bow, clean crimson silk tied at his throat. The outfit looked antique, but at the same time modern. Jeremy would have called it Neo-gothic. Jon called it a wrapper. It was a wrapper for the biggest can of butt whip likely to hit English shores, ever.
The werewolf was not an empath, he couldn't read emotions, at least not in that way. He could read them with his senses, his keen nose, his sharp eyes, and his cunning intellect, but none of these things gave him a clue as to Alucard's thoughts as he looked the priest over silently.
That stare, that stare that Alucard put to Anderson seemed to last forever. The vampire's eyes did show emotion, yet they were like a storm, a miasma, swirling and churning out of control. Jon wasn't sure what the vampire would do, but already he could tell it would be bad. It was the look of Alucard's eyes alone that told him this was so, those eyes so like those that Ceres Victoria had offered him moments before as a man, but now as a monster Jon saw as a monster, he saw that there was none of the humanity that had been in the girls eyes in these eyes. The eyes of Alucard were alien, completely inhuman, something else, something dark but at the same time, something that was not truly evil, but indifferent. Evil the man could understand, while the beast in him could not. Indifference the beast understood well, it was the look of predator, of he that kills for his survival and his blood. This, the man could name, hear, and comprehend, but truly never would he understand. That look was the look of animals and monsters.
"Drink Police Girl!" Alucard said again, this time a command, firm and sharp. It made Jon want to drink his own blood; it made the beast in him smile. The beast thought suddenly of the girl in its arms not as potential prey, but as a difficult pup.
It was the beast that came up with the answer to Ceres' hesitation. The werewolf brought one finger toward the girl's lips, and being careful of its claw, it nipped her bottom lip.
"Ow…" Ceres, complained. Her throat had been healing all the while, even before the blade had been removed, though it did not heal as most vampire wounds did, instantly sealing up. Instead Ceres' healing was going more slowly. That is until she opened her lips slightly to suck at the little wound. The werewolf bit into his arm then, letting fangs break skin, and a rush of blood fell onto Ceres' face. The girl couldn't shout or protest, instead the blood dripped. Dripped on her face, her lips, and she swallowed it down, her nature savoring the flavor.
All of this happened so suddenly, and then Ceres' eyes were clear, gone was the sudden glassiness, and the large pupils.
"What happened?" She asked.
Alucard looked at her, then to the werewolf. He smiled.
"It would seem that your new friend here knows a thing or two about vampiric instinct. Blood in the mouth always makes one drink when wounded. Always!"
Something about this seemed to amuse Alucard and his laugh was dark and flowing, like oil or some much more forbidden substance. He looked at Jon, giving a wide and very fanged smile.
"Well done, wolfie."
"Monsters…" Anderson growled. Then the priest rushed forward, ready for the attack.
