Book Dragon:

"Many thanks to KrysSaiyan, blazingfirewolf, J Luc Pitard,

Hatake no Kuro Fenikkusu, and Lord Makura for reviewing the last chapter. Thank you everyone for the support.

"Thanks especially to J Luc Pitard for the advice. I always did find I was bad with battle scenes and your model idea might help me out a bit. As for Howl, I'm a bit embarrassed to say the name came up because it was the first one to pop into my head and I knew it was English because it was in the Diana Wynne Jones book. I have seen the movie. As for the crossover idea…maybe if I did a sequel for this, I'd do something. Apologies.

"I thought about trying to add stuff having to mark the time, but I really couldn't think of much that didn't seem overly dramatic. Something odd pops up later in Chapter 8, but I'll see if I could add anything else when I can. As for weaponry…I'm not exactly knowledgeable and you probably already saw that. I was thinking of something like a revolver but with a clip instead. I should ask my brother, he plays all the shooting games and knows quite a bit about guns…

"Thanks again. I think I've said enough in this note and should go to the next chapter. I don't own Hellsing at all and I love criticism."

Chapter 5

The next month and a half was interesting. During the day, Lori did all the things that were expected of her and was obedient to her parents, her brother, and her teachers. They were pleased by the change of behavior, pleased to have everything back to normal. Even if she did take frequent naps in the afternoon, she did as she was told and didn't act up, at the very least.

But at night?

It was very enlightening. Most of the time she felt trouble-some and totally inadequate. Wet behind the ears. A novice. Then something would happen, she'd nail someone a hundred yards out with one shot or get a perfect bull's eye and create a black hole in the center of some undead's head. She'd blink, surprised again, and smile. There were no actual compliments or pleased statements from her undead teacher, but he didn't yell at her when she screwed up either.

It was a bit like target practice.

Elaborate target practice.

It became fluid, like riding a bicycle. She could do it without even trying. Her hand would move the gun and she'd fire without having to aim too long. It was easy to get a chest and head shot. If someone was behind her, her ears alone could tell if it was foe or not. The clips went in and out nimbly and she didn't even have to look any more; it was like her fingers had grown a mind of their own.

But, she knew, that by no means did she ever equal her teacher (that was impossible. He'd take a step and vanish, he was so fast, and each shot was perfect.) But some nights it looked like she might, one day.

If she lived two hundred or so years longer than expected.

Not that she had any plans of joining the undead.

Though she did think about what he told her on the first night of her killer's education. Only if you ask. That wasn't exactly it, though. She'd have to command it of him. Always was he shoving that weird title in her face. Master. She couldn't see why. Was he making fun of her? The thought of ordering him seemed like a very arrogant thing to do, to even try would be...she couldn't even think of a word for it. He was the teacher, not a…servant.

On evenings when she came home, two or three in the morning, sometimes the rest of the night would be spent with her hands behind her head, staring up at the ceiling, trying to imagine not feeling her own heart beat or not having to even breathe. To be cold. Eternally cold. To rip open the blood packets that Alucard 'borrowed'(stole) from the hospitals they 'visited'(broke in) and just slurp up the cold metallic red from within it. Or, even odder, to curl her lips around warm hot flesh and pierce into silky skin with her own sharp bladed teeth and have its warmth slide down her own throat.

Sometimes she had dreams where she was a vampire, but they were mostly uneventful. A lot of wandering around a night, through the city she was becoming more and more aware of. They weren't interesting because they always made her wake up and feel utterly alone and lost.

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Who knows how long it would've gone this way. Lorian would've never seen how much she had grown if her grandmother hadn't come to visit.

Lorian Integra Michaela Hellsing had been given her grandmother's name as a baby, but that was about all they had in common, or so it seemed to Lori. Her grandmother seemed to be everything she was not, superior in every way that counted, and stronger than anyone she'd ever met in her short little life.

Besides Alucard.

On some level, she'd been aware that Grandma had always been disappointed in her, even from when she was very small. It started when she was having trouble reading and was present ever after. There were still words she couldn't get her mouth around. Grandma was a cold and distant woman, but you could still tell when she was truly pleased. She had a little smile that, when used, seemed to make whole rooms stop with disbelief.

Lori never made her smile once.

Gabriel had managed it only twice.

The reason she was visiting was not to really spend some time with them because her cold nature even went to her relationship with her son. He was eager to please her and invited her for a visit, even if he was just as frosty to her in their conversations. Did he disappoint her? She was still running the company, but she was starting to get old.

She was aware of it, still as tough and sharp as steel. However, she was aware of a future that was growing near and near every day where she'd be gone and someone would have to take her place. She wanted to see a capable person step in when she passed.

Her expectations were hard to meet, on the other hand.

It seemed Dad hadn't managed it. Gab was on a trial bases. Lori was pretty sure she failed.

That's why it seemed ridiculous that Dad set up the sword fight between her and Gab; just to show Grandma how much they grew since she last saw them. Grandma already discarded Lori as a possible heir, even Dad knew that. So that meant he was really trying to show how much Gab had grown. How much stronger. Show the benefits of his son. The pride. Lori was the only one that could even try to keep up with his skills now. The computers certainly couldn't keep up. All the other boys that all those noble families brought succumbed to him.

Besides, they didn't like to be humiliated, so there really was no one else for it.

Dad stood smiling proudly with his hands behind his back as they stood on the lawn. He stood close to Grandma, ten feet away from the siblings, and watched his mother carefully, smiling.

She stood there, in a green business suit even in the heat of the way, wearing her white gloves and holding a cane. Her eyes were still as icy and intelligent as they had ever been, behind her glasses. Cold and calculating. Her hair was still a bit blonde, but it was graying spider web silver in places. Pretty.

Lori tried to ignore her and stop shifting around in her white uniform. Gab looked at her expectantly. Before they had come out onto the field, in their fencing clothes, he had promised to make it quick. His tone was sympathetic and Lori knew it was genuine.

There was no use in both of them being miserable for too long in this weather (it was hot outside, unspeakably so and standing around in long pants and heavy padding was more than unpleasant), even if Dad felt like tooting his own horn. Gab had been nice to her and forgot about the Houdini escape move from the deepest reaches of the basement. He was her nicer older brother again instead of some hell bent enemy.

She liked him better that way.

Lorian raised her sword and took up the correct posture.

Already Grandmother was frowning as she smoked her cigar.

Too late to worry about it now. The fight started in a swirl of motion. Lori saw him moving around; saw how quickly and artfully he spun the blade. It took less than four moves. She didn't even get to move her feet an inch. Her sword was just batted around and was lost to her fingers, flying up and piercing the ground in less than a minute. He jabbed his own blade, in a quick swipe of movement, and pointed at her heart. He smiled smugly. Finish. Gab was the winner.

But it wasn't over.

Lorian was moving before she was even aware of it. The thirty seconds of silver glittering metal clangs against her blade, each vibration as they clashed; it set something deep roaring. For a moment, the killer that stalked the night, the one that had been nurtured so, came flying out of her carefully guarded depths. The world sharpened and twisted vividly.

Was there a sparkle of red and black?

Gab looked at her puzzled when she leaned back, swaying out of the way of his blade, the smile already starting to rise to her lips. What the heck? This was supposed to be the end of the fight. All experience before told him so. He looked at her like she was crazy as she wove to the left and drew towards him.

Her arm shot out powerfully and she punched him, straight in the cheek. Too stunned to react, his head rocked to the side and he over balanced, falling to the grass with a thud. The sword fell, discarded, as his hands flew out to soften his fall. Lori wasn't done. Her foot found his neck and pressed down on it, choking him for a few seconds before his hands flew back up, grabbed her shoe, and fought against it.

It was a brilliant couple of moments. He held her at bay, his eyes bulging from his head in total disbelief. The killer relished it and pressed down harder, a smirk curling wider onto her lips. It his survival instinct that kept her from choking him, but soon even that would give out. On some level they both understood this as his face paled at the lack of air.

"Lor…ain…?" He strained.

"Lorian STOP!"

Her father's scream made her remember herself.

This wasn't how this was supposed to go down.

In a flicker of an instant she lifted her foot and backed away, gawking at Gab down on the ground. He sat up, but stared at her like she was some kind of monster. When she felt the ground quaking to running feet, she looked up and found the same expression of horror on her father's face.

Even Grandmother was stunned.

The cigar just burned in her mouth, her blue eyes wide.

Lori fled.

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She didn't even tare off that damned white uniform. She flew through the halls at full speed to the only safe place where no one could find her. Sitting behind her old hidey-hole, behind the bookcase, she listened to several sets of footsteps come in and out of the library. Someone was screaming in some room. Was it Dad? He sounded pissed.

Lorian hung her head and didn't come out. She looked around at her drawings, her stories, all cluttered and nothing but marks on paper. How long had she abandoned those little comforts? She picked it up again, drawing, drawing Ghouls and Freaks, and pistols blaring because that's what she knew. There would be no talking to Alucard because it was the day.

Five hours after disappearing and when the servants had finally stopped making their scampering visits to the library, looking for her. She realized she couldn't stay in here forever. Sooner or later, she was going to have to leave. She'd have to eat sometime. She was starting to feel cramped. She fell asleep instead.

There was no hunting trip that night.

She woke up to the dawn light seeping above on the ceiling and her stomach growling. Surely now, things would've calmed down a bit. Or, maybe everyone was still asleep for the most part. She crawled out and re hid her secret place, frowning a little. It was interesting that Alucard hadn't been able to find her. He usually prodded her, even if she was a sleep, when it was time to go for another lesson, regardless of where she was.

Lorian walked down the hall, used the bathroom, and went to the kitchen, yawning. Her legs were sore from being curled up all night. All they needed was a bit of stretching. The pins and needles ran out of them quick enough. The kitchen was empty. She hunted around in the fridge and poured herself a glass of milk and decided a little toast would be nice. She put two pieces in the toaster, was turning for a plate in the cabinet to the far side of the room-

Someone else had entered.

She felt them, but didn't know who it was. Still, she turned all the way around and found herself less than three feet away from her grandmother, already dressed despite how early it was and looked pressed. For the first time she studied the blue tie around her neck and the tiny silver cross that adorned it. That was, before her cold blue eyes captured her attention.

They were staring right at her.

"Good morning, Lorian."

"Good morning, Grandmother."

Caught, she was caught! She'd get that smoldering angry look any second now. Grandma didn't scold. She just sort of glared at you. She didn't need to scold to get her point across. Lorian made herself stare back, already putting up her emotional defenses for that look of displeasure. There was no escape now. It would be best to get this part over with first anyway.

But her grandmother didn't.

"You've grown since I last saw you." She said instead, and sat down on one of the stools.

Lori watched her warily, but copied her movements submissively. Okay, so she was growing to draw it out. Had she been reading her mind? Lori watched her pick up the cane and put it down on the table as the toaster made the bread in there fly up, done, but it went totally ignored.

"Aren't you going to get that?" She asked, nodding towards the toaster.

"No." Lori replied seriously.

There was no use lying. Even if she did get up and fetch it, she wasn't going to be able to eat it until this experience was over. Her stomach was brimming with butterflies and lurching with apprehension.

There was no displeased frown. For some reason her grandmother found it amusing. Lori felt her jaw trying to unhinge as she not only smiled, but laughed a little too. Laughed. Let me repeat: LAUGHED.

Oh my God, who is this woman and what did she do with my grandmother?

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For Lorian, it happened very fast after that.

By the afternoon she found herself dressed with a suitcase packed with a change of clothes for two days, sitting in her grandmother's limo, sitting next to her while she smoked and talked busily on the car phone. It felt like someone had forced her into an alternate dimension.

Dad hadn't had a chance to scream at her. Grandma just told him she'd be staying with her for the weekend. It was scary and fascinating to watch her father's face turn a shade of purple and his hands to pump like that, open and shut, open and then shut again. Gab looked between her and him, surprised and curious at the situation. It was just as new to him as it was to Lori.

As the two adults battled it out, Lorian packed. Her brother visited in her room and hugged her briefly. Lori stared at him, stunned, even as he backed away a bit and looked self conscious. He offered a little sheepish smile and ruffled her hair a bit, something he never had done before, and even (oh God) looked pleased with her.

"Good luck, Lori." He wished and left the room before it could get more awkward for them.

The awkwardness might have ended for him. Lori walked the halls and found people smiling at her everywhere. The servants were grinning and waving in a way that they never did before and wished her well. Lori didn't know weather to wave or nod or what to say. Mom kissed her good-bye, smiling. Dad, even if he was beyond pissed, gave her a little pat on the back before she went.

Walking down the front steps in this weird place that had once been her home, she followed her grandmother to places unknown, unchartered, to the little Hellsing, at the very least. Lori looked back, seeing her family huddled in the door way and waving her farewell. Something else they had never done before.

Yet, as she sat in the car, watching the scenery go by, and she already wanted to go home. Wanted to return to the little secret place behind the bookshelf, curl up and draw. Draw and write her little stories. She wanted target practice and all the quiet lack of attention. This was just far too strange.

But most of all, she wanted to see Alucard.

She was already hurt that he hadn't found her and dragged her off to another hunting lesson. Now, sitting in this blasted car, listening to Sir Hellsing talking on the phone, making plans and arrangements, she knew it would be a few days without him. A few more missed lessons. It was depressing.

But she was a mere child and didn't have a clue as to the extent of him.

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At nightfall, Lorian sat, curled up on her bed and found herself drawing her favorite teacher, in all his glory. Home sick. Very home sick. Why couldn't things be as they were before? This all felt so very wrong.

Grandmother lived in a castle that was even older than her home. It was surprising to learn that this was the real Hellsing castle, passed on to generation through generation. It was also the home of the company and their defenses. Sir Hellsing (that was her title and what she heard from all other mouths there) stood smoking her cigar in the courtyard, beneath the silver sky, in the sun, past the gate and further into the property as Lori held her suitcase and watched the troops, all dressed in their tan combat uniforms, move and behave like a military base.

The girl was always looking around as her grandmother just walked past it all, not so curious. After all, she lived with the constant gunfire and smoke. Lori followed her in and found more people moving about busily inside as well as outside. People with files who stopped and spoke to other people, referring to things that Lori didn't have a clue about before nodding to each other and flying off again. They were flowing in and out of sight. Lori could imagine that they behaved much like bees, of course, before they went extinct.

Grandma passed by it all, only talking to those that sort of swooped in and buzzed her with a question. She'd answer coldly and they'd fly off to do whatever it dealt with. Lorian kept her head down after the first five minutes of confused and doubting looks until they escaped that room and into one of the less busy hallways. Then it was staring out the windows they passed and admiring the scenery.

Her grandmother went back to her paper work when Lori was given two hours to settle in. She was taken to her room by one of the butlers and unpacked, but not before admiring the place. Old, yes, but it was very comfortable and made to be pleasing to the eyes. Royal in a way that was more than home. The bed sheets had fancy patterns and the rugs soft and the tapestries were adorned with crests she didn't know.

It took her ten minutes to unpack. Then she cat-napped for another thirty. After that, she sat on the bed, hugging her knees to her chest and staring out the window, staring at the forever clear silver sky. Waiting for something to happen. Or trying to figure out why this was happening to her. Hadn't she cheated? Wasn't this a reward for cheating in a fight? What was her grandmother thinking?

Lori found she missed her gun.

Finally, a while later, the butler came back and told her Sir Hellsing wished to see her. Lorian nodded and got off the bed. Followed dutifully back to her office, where her grandmother sat with her fingers curled loosely and her elbows on the desk top. She didn't smile when Lori came in, but still she could see her blue eyes weren't so icy.

It was almost creepy.

"Well, since we saw what you could do with a sword, let's see if you're any better with a gun." Was all she said, getting out of the chair.

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So in the afternoon Lori found herself standing in another shooting gallery much like the one at home, a pistol in her grasp, and aiming at one of the paper targets. The presence of the Knight behind her was too hard to ignore. She could feel those two wise, devious, and watching eyes on her back and her hands. She tried not to let it bother her. This was still a trial bases. She passed some sort of weird sub-test. Now, this seemed to be apart of the real one. Lori thought about this, closing one eye and taking careful aim. So there was still a chance that all this madness could end. All she had to do was try her best. Then, they'd see she was a failure, like her parents had known, like everyone had known all along, and then she'd get the displeased look and be sent home. Maybe even before nightfall.

Piece of cake.

Lori could see it. Herself, sitting on her own bed, clicking a fresh clip full of silver rounds into her favorite pistol, getting ready for the night. Alucard coming through the wall, smiling, and asking her if she wasn't going to be so damn trouble-some tonight and actually shoot like she meant it. If she could just take care of herself dodge the damn bullets this time. He didn't need to be running around taking metal for her at every possible second of the night; it ruined his fun.

She could see him saying these things, teasing, his mouth opening and closing. His teeth as sharp as ever. He was speaking in her head, his voice burned in her memory.

Aim for the head and heart, you dolt, and get it right this time.

Two shots rang out.

Lori lowered the pistol, a wisp of gray smoke escaping the barrel, and looked at the target paper. One bullet hole in the chest and the other smack dab in the center of the head of humanoid black shadow. She smiled, pleased for a moment. There, you bloodsucking perfectionist, she thought to herself, or to the Alucard her mind had made believe was standing next to her. Teaching.

It took her a minute to remember where she was.

"Good." Her grandmother said.

The smile vanished from Lori's face.

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Now she sat, doodling, after a long afternoon of learning about firearms and how to use them. A while of listening to her teacher's dark voice, somehow it became a very animated and strange puppet for her imagination to use as she proceeded to look like an idiot trying to work with the odd button or voice commanded triggers of some of the newer weapons.

The recoil of the rocket launcher had been the most exciting and frightening. The boom of the shell hitting the far wall made her blood burn, but all the white faces from the men passing by were embarrassing. So she missed by twelve feet and nearly blew a hole in the combat room, no body got hurt…

And despite all her screwing up, she was still here! Worse. It seemed Grandma was calling Dad back up and telling him to pack more clothes because her 'visit' was being extended for a few more days. How long? Maybe a week or two. And tomorrow? They were moving a little away from weapons and were going to see how her mind was.

Lori sighed, and fixed the shape of her teacher's penciled in hat. He stood on the paper, grinning (it was burned permanently into her mind) holding out his pistol and firing it from a side angle. His face was darkened black, hidden by shadow, and his glasses were winking moonlight above his pulled up collar.

"That could use more shading." His voice suddenly rang out.

Lori thought it was imagination at work until one white gloved finger tapped the drawn jacket on her page. When it withdrew, her eyes followed it, flew up and found him standing at the end of her bed, dressed as he was always dressed. She couldn't keep the smile off her face despite being shocked.

"What are you doing here!"

"You're not going to get two nights off in a row. I don't care where you went or what happened. Now get up and get dressed." He said, ignoring her question.

After all, what did it look like he was doing? He stood, holding her gun by the barrel, and waved it slightly as he spoke. Seemed eager to give it back to her and be off, despite the annoyance in his voice.

Lori stared at him, incredulous, but did as she was told.

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