Father Alexander Anderson gazed down at the pretty young woman lying on the shiny metal autopsy table. The medical examiner had called the church requesting a priest to perform the last rites for the woman who had been found dead in her apartment. Not sure of what he was hoping he would find, but feeling an unmistakable need to go, he had volunteered for the job. Surely it was divine providence that he would be at the church visiting when such an odd request would occur. Although he was not really searching for anything, apparently there was something there that he was meant to find. Upon his arrival, the coroner, a tall gaunt man who could be death incarnate, led him to the autopsy room where he gave the priest a brief summary of how the woman had gotten here. Her employer had grown concerned after she had not shown up for work without a phone call explaining her absence. The police were not concerned and told her to wait twenty-four hours. On the second day of her absence, the employer called again, this time in a state of hysteria, so the police went to investigate. The Head Librarian received a call back from the police that confirmed her worst fears. Her employee was dead - murdered in fact.

Sadness filled Anderson's heart when he thought about what a tragic waste it was for one so young and beautiful to die. His fingers traced one long wave of her fawn colored hair down to the curl at the end that lay right above her breast. His eyes that were as green as a juniper tree in winter followed every soft curve of the woman's face. The porcelain whiteness of her skin made her appear to have been transformed into a doll instead of one lingering in death. There had been no discoloration of her skin due to livor mortis because her body had been almost completely drained of every drop of blood. He only knew of one creature that could perform such a precisely measured venipuncture and extraction. His fingers brushed aside her hair to examine her neck. There were no marks. Taking hold of the sheet covering her body up to her chin, he carefully folded it back to search for signs of a bite. Below her left collar-bone, just where her shoulder began to curve, he found what he was seeking. Among the perfect impression of a full set of teeth there were two small holes about two inches apart, the distance from incisor to incisor of an adult male vampire, on her otherwise unmarked skin. The insertion marks were in exact alignment with the subclavian artery.

"Hmmmm," he murmured, the sound rolling around deep within his broad chest. Leaning closer to inspect the wound, his upper lip peeled back from his teeth in a snarl when he recognized the signature of a specific vampire. "Alucard. You filthy, wretched abomination."

Reaching under his grey cassock, Father Anderson retrieved the small flask of holy water and the rosary beads he carried with him just in case he should happen upon such an individual. He was familiar with this sort of thing having chased Alucard to the ends of the earth and back again in an attempt to kill him. Many times he had been forced to dispatch the fledglings that had been left behind by the selfish, ravenous vampire. Alucard's master, Sir Integra Hellsing, really should get a shorter leash and better control of her damnable pet. The priest's lips stretched then twisted into a sardonic grin as he stared down at the lovely young creature on the medical examiner's table. Perhaps he would finally have a pet of his own. Alucard should have taken his new conquest with him like he had that police girl, Seras Victoria. The vampire's arrogant carelessness might finally be his undoing.

Father Anderson carefully lifted the woman's head, sliding the black and red rosary necklace down around her neck before lowering it again. He meticulously positioned the ornate cross on her chest on top of the sheet that covered her naked body. Ebony vines and thorns made of onyx twisted around the silver cross. A single rose fashioned out of rubies sat on the cross beams of the crucifix. He opened the flask of holy water, holding his forefinger to the mouth of the bottle. After wetting his finger with the blessed fluid, he made a cross on her forehead with it. The black lights installed in the room in addition to the fluorescent lights gave the water a luminescent blue coloration against her white skin. He gently pushed his large hand under her neck, lifting her head slightly before tipping her chin up. Pressing the top of the flask against her bottom lip, her lips inexplicably parted the slightest amount. A smile full of malicious glee pulled at his mouth making the corners twitch as if he had a facial tic. He tipped the shiny silver decanter, watching the water trickle between her lips and into her mouth. Taking great care not to waste a single drop of the sanctified fluid, he patiently dribbled the contents into her mouth. Once the bottle was empty, he recapped it, putting it back into his pocket. Bringing forth his Bible, he began to read scripture aloud.

"... but whoever drinks of the water that I will give him will never be thirsty again. The water that I will give him will become in him a spring of water welling up to eternal life.*" Without looking up from the text in his hand, he continued to read. "...let the one who desires take the water of life without price.*" Then, he waited.

Eva was sitting in a cold, barren place. A dazzling white color that went on forever in all directions seemed to make the emptiness even more profound. Alone, freezing, and blind, she lay curled on her side, hugging herself for comfort. She was about to be liberated from the great nothingness - soon to be birthed from death back into life.

Staring at the lifeless body of the young woman, Father Anderson prayed silently for life to return to her; for her to awaken from her slumber as a new and eternal being who would slay evil in the Lord's name. He was concerned with one evil in particular. She would be his weapon should he be granted an affirmative answer to his prayer. His eyes centered on her throat, searching for any perceptible signs of her life returning. Suddenly, there was motion as she swallowed. His heart beat faster, pounding in his ears like the hooves of a thousand horses. He could not even hear her harsh intake of air as she sat upright on the table with a burst of physical force like she had been propelled upward by an invisible push. Lurching forward, he grabbed her shoulders as she was wracked with a coughing fit, her body convulsing with each vigorous hack.

"Go away!" she yelled, pushing the massive man away from her. She hastily pushed herself off of the table, rushing to the sink that reminded her of the deep sinks from her science lab in high school. Unable to hold back the urge to vomit, she allowed her body to push the viscous burning fluid up her esophagus. A thick tar like substance splashed against the clean, unmarred sides of the well like sink causing her to feel even more nauseated. Big chunks of tissue that resembled blood clots were in the disgusting goo. Her stomach churned and heaved until she was left ejecting what looked like pure water. With her body completely emptied, she realized too late she had been depleted of what minute amount of energy had enabled her to propel her recently dead body to the sink.

Seeing her knees wobble and her body begin to fall, in one smooth, elegant movement, Father Anderson snatched the sheet from the table while rushing to catch her. Wrapping the sheet around her naked body, allowing his arms to encapsulate her, he pulled her to his body before she collapsed onto the floor. Gently rocking her like a father does his child after she has had a nightmare, he waited for her body to stop trembling.

"Wh-who are y-you?" she stammered, desperately attempting to control her body that was unwilling to move except to shake as if she were experiencing an earthquake from the inside out. Her body felt hot and cold, empty and full, all at once. Glancing around her, she immediately realized she was in the city morgue. Why was she here? Only dead people were brought here.

"My name is Father Alexander Anderson. Do not be afraid, my child. I am not here to harm you," he told her, his voice a resonant, silky baritone that was riddled with an intoxicating brogue.

"Here. Where is here?" she inquired, her head twisting in all directions in such a lightning quick manner he was afraid she would break her neck.

"Shhhh," he whispered into her ear, stroking her hair in an attempt to calm her. "Everything is all right. You have been through a terrible ordeal, my dear."

"What kind of ordeal?" she asked, leaning heavily against his big hard body that was like a wall against her back. He was solid and forceful to the touch, yet gentle and kind in the way he touched her.

"My sweet angel," he murmured, lifting her into his powerful arms in a bridal carry. "What is your name?"

"E-Eva," she stuttered, her hands sliding around his thick, sinewy neck as he moved toward the door with her. Her eyes were mesmerized by his dark green ones that reminded her of the grass in the park during springtime. The light glinted off of his round lensed wire rimmed glasses hiding his eyes from her view as they moved under the bluish white fluorescent lights. His light blond hair was short and spiky like an overgrown military buzz cut. Generous amounts of darker blond stubble coated his square jaw. She wanted to touch it, to feel if was silky like it appeared to be. However, his large body was moving too fast for her to let go of him for fear she would fall.

"Eva. What a beautiful name. So close to Eve, the name of the mother of us all," he mused, staring straight ahead with determination. He was a man on a mission and no one was going to stop him from taking this woman with him. Yelling voices erupted behind him, warning him to stop. Things had instantly gotten more serious than they had already been just five seconds ago.

Eve. Mother of us all. My child. My sweet angel. He spoke like a priest. Glancing at his neck, Eva saw the high white starched clerical collar of a priest under the trademark black shirt. He was also wearing the long cassock of a priest but it was a light gray color with purple trim and had been left open like a jacket. He was not like any priest she had ever seen in her life. Her eyes scrutinized the large scar that started in the middle of his left cheek slashing downward at a vertical angle to the corner of his jaw by his earlobe. Her fingers curled around the edge of his cassock while her other hand hooked around his muscular neck to hold on tight as his steps became even faster when there was a ruckus behind them of numerous hurried footsteps and more shouting.

"Stop or we'll shoot!" one of the male voices warned him.

Shoot? Cops? They were at the city morgue after all so of course police had been close by. But why were they trying to stop the priest from taking her when she was alive. Had she been...dead? So how could she be alive now? What was going on?

"What's happening?" she asked, pressing her face into his shirt. Her belly ached. A ravenous hunger seized her. She felt as if she did not get something to eat she might die - again. Her veins were like the desert; dry, desolate, and burning with the heat of a thousand suns. A rhythmic booming sounded in her ears like timed explosions detonating. Gasping in shock, she realized it was the beating his heart under ear. Her body spasmed with an appetite that demanded to be sated. Thirst. Want. Hunger. Need. She groaned in agony, hanging onto the man who held her tightly in his muscular arms.

There was a loud pop like a fire cracker. A whizzing sound and a faint puff of air moved across the crown of her head. A scent, heavy, savory, and slightly metallic, flooded her nose. Closing her eyes and lifting her nose to get a better whiff of the smell, her mouth began to water as the luscious scent of blood overwhelmed her. Opening her eyes, she saw that there was a small cut on his neck, presumably where a bullet had grazed him. The emptiness of her body cried out to her, begging for relief. The excruciating need was destroying her rationale. Instantly she was driven by basic instinctual need as she watched the gorgeous crimson flow ooze from the minor injury. Squeezing his neck with her fingers and clutching his beefy shoulder to pull herself upward, she acquiesced unquestioningly to the desire to lick the blood. The tangy richness coated her tongue, making her moan from its abundant delectable flavor. Her body responded by tormenting her with tortuous abdominal cramps. More. She wanted more. Licking over the cut again, she received another taste but it was thinner, less satisfying as the blood was beginning to clot and dry from the insignificant damage. She pressed her lips to his neck, sucking at the wound to make more blood flow.

"Eva, don't," he admonished her as if she were a naughty child. His stringent, commanding tone made her stop. The large hulking mass of priest did not even break stride as he turned to ram his shoulder into the door barring their way to freedom. The metal door flew open to land with a bang against the sides of the brick building. One door creaked miserably before dropping to the side to hang off of the bottom hinge at an angle because the top one had been burst into pieces.

Shame and fear settled into Eva's heart. What had she done? She had tried to drink this man's blood. Blood! Pressing the back of her hand to her mouth, she was unable to suppress the impulse to gag. But she still wanted it. Needed it. "Oh, God," she sobbed, once again clinging to him like a helpless frightened child. "What is happening to me?"

"What is happening to you in nothing of God, my child," he corrected her, pausing to open the door to his car to shove her into the front seat. "A damned demon has done this to you." He would need to get her to the church quickly. There they would find sanctuary, a safe haven for her from all danger from man or beast.

Slowly the memory of how she died came back to her, like a photo album flipping its pages in her mind. A tall thin man wearing a blood-red hat and jacket. His naked body on top of hers, him inside of her. His teeth. Fangs. Long and sharp like a...like a vampire. Eva leaned forward, holding her head in her hands. She could not stand to see anymore. Hellsing. The godddamned Hellsing guard dog had done this to her. "Bastard. Damn you to hell, you bastard, Alucard!" she screamed, gripping handfuls of her hair put stopping short of jerking it out by the roots. Tears flowed down her face: scalding, acrid tears that attested to her demoralizing regret and desire for vengeance.

"There, there, my angel," the priest cooed, his heavily accented voice like a healing balm to her frayed nerves and confused mind. He wrapped his fingers around her upper arm, pulling her across the seat to hold her against his body as he sped off into the night. St. Catherine of Alexandria's Church* awaited to welcome them and shelter them. No one could touch them there, and he could tend to his new protégé.

Eva sank into him, crying her tears while emitting pathetic wails of grief until her tear ducts were as empty as her body. Wiping away the remains of her mourning from her face with a corner of the sheet that surrounded her body, she stared at the road ahead in the jaundiced illumination of the headlights. The sound of the road beneath the tires made a pleasant, static white noise that began to lull her to sleep. A raindrop, then another, hit the windshield. Soon there was a steady pitter patter of the drops on the glass. Watching them hit the windshield and splatter before being carried away by the windshield wipers became hypnotic making her even more drowsy.

"Father," Eva mumbled, finding a more comfortable position for her head on his muscular arm. She felt weary and weak although she had been sleeping, dead as a matter of fact, for three days. Coming back to life had sapped what little energy she had possessed. Such a feat was bound to take quite a bit of power to accomplish so it should be no surprise that she was depleted and exhausted.

"Sleep, my child. We will be there soon."

"All right."

Father Alexander Anderson reached up to pat her cheek. "Rest. You need your strength. Your real battle has not yet begun."

~...~

Alucard sat at the opposite end of the lengthy formal dining room table from his master Sir Integra Hellsing. He was far enough away that his senses would not be assaulted with the sight or smell of the human food, but he was close enough to still be considered her dinner companion. Leisurely sipping on the blood that he had poured into a long-stemmed glass, he savored the red liquid as if it were a fine wine. This blood had belonged to a middle-aged female, a vegetarian, full of vitality due to her diet. Some women truly were like a fine wine and got better with age. Eva had been a carnivore. Her blood had been hearty, satisfying, and impeccable. He licked his lips. The taste of her exquisite blood still lingered in his mouth three days later. She had been exquisite, gratifying his lust for her blood and her body. He shuddered from recalling the pleasure she had brought to him on both levels. Leaning back in his chair, he held the glass to his lips to drink the blood that was a sad substitute for the blood he had received from his sweet Eva.

Integra studied the vampire as he drank his daily blood ration, noticing his eyes held the glassy sheen of a man who was lost in sexual musings. The lazy, lecherous grin was further proof of what was going on in his mind. Father Alexander Anderson had once referred to Alucard as a tame vampire which could not be further from the truth. Irritating as a rebellious child and as reliable as a philandering husband, Alucard was anything but tame. He offered her the occasional semblance of control only to swiftly pull it away by giving her a painful reminder that he and he alone was in charge of himself. She set her fork down beside her plate having lost her appetite. Reaching into the hidden pocket of the black vest she was wearing, she extracted the cigar she had been reserving to enjoy after dinner. Producing a lighter from her pants pocket, she lit the cigar and took a calming draw before blowing a large billow of smoke into the air.

"Alucard," she called to gain his attention. Glaring at him through her round lensed, golden rimmed glasses, she questioned him bluntly, "What have you done?"

"What?" he inquired in return, squeezing the remaining contents of the plastic blood bag into his glass. "I have done nothing, Master."

"Don't humor me by telling me what you think I want to hear!" she yelled, jumping to her feet and slamming her fists down on the table. Her pale blue eyes flashed with anger as she glowered at the creature who was lying by blatant omission. "What have you done?"

"Sir Integra!" Walter exclaimed, raising his voice in a very uncharacteristic manner.

"Yes! What is it?" she bellowed furiously, turning to see the thin man appear at the door of the dining room.

"A woman's body was just just stolen from the city morgue," he informed her in a much calmer voice.

"And just how does that concern us, Walter?" she demanded irritably, casting an accusatory glimpse at Alucard whose face was suddenly devoid of the smug grin. She reluctantly shifted her eyes back to the Shinigami Butler standing at the door. He appeared as if he were ready to make a fast exit once he delivered his news.

"The woman was believed to be the victim of a vampire," he announced, taking a step backwards to stand just outside the entrance. Lowering his eyes then shifting them to the right so Integra would not notice, he glimpsed in the direction of Alucard who pretended to have heard nothing but his lips that were turning down into a frown said otherwise.

"A vampire you say?" Her anger rose so drastically that spots of red coloration appeared on her darkly tanned cheeks. She reached for her companion that was more trustworthy than the vampire in her presence; the gold-plated Beretta she kept strapped to her side. Usually it was for protection. Although it would not kill Alucard if she shot him, at least it would hurt like hell.

Alucard remained nonplussed, boredly sipping the contents of his glass as if he were enduring a mediocre wine instead of second-rate blood. He could feel Integra's icy blue eyes boring hot holes of anger through his skull.

"What else, Walter?" Integra growled through her clenched teeth, looking at the butler because the sight of the vampire was making her feel ill she was so furious.

"Ma'am, at precisely eight twenty-six tonight, Father Alexander Anderson was spotted taking her body from the coroner's office. The police were unable to stop him," he announced, adjusting his monacle. After bowing to signal he was taking his leave, he walked away to attend to urgent matters elsewhere in the manor.

Integra flinched when she heard glass shattering. Her head whipped around so she could see Alucard, but there was nothing but empty air where he had been. The chill night air blew in through the broken window. The dining room was on the second floor of the mansion. The dumbass could have at least opened the window instead of crashing through it. Dropping heavily into her chair, Integra leaned her head back, closing her eyes as a headache blossomed across her forehead.

"Alucard, you bastard," she murmured to herself. She could only hope he did not make the problem worse by running after the monster he had made - and the monster who now held her in his clutches.

Once Alucard reached the morgue and picked up Eva's scent, he morphed into his hellhound form to find her. Although he was running as fast he could, he would not be able to run fast enough to find her tonight. The raindrops began pelting him, soaking into this thick fur, making his body heavy. Not only did the rain make it more difficult to move his body, but it was washing away the trail he was following that not only smelled like her but the Monster of God. That was a scent he always hated to have in his nose but he was willing to bear it to find her. Eventually, even the strong smell of the priest was washed away by the rain. He sat down on his haunches in the middle of the deserted road. Throwing back his head, he offered a mournful howl to the moonless sky. Crying out in frustration, he was annoyed that he had allowed the woman to be taken from him. Like a spoiled child, he was angry because his new toy had been stolen. Since it was Father Anderson who had taken her, he would happily kill the priest to reclaim his prize. Although it was not as if he needed another reason to want to kill Anderson. He would find Eva soon enough since he had a connection to her that encompassed her body and her mind. He had taken her body, becoming one with her in the most intimate of ways. That was when he had established the telepathic connection to her mind.

Eva twitched and gasped, awaking startled and confused. She glanced around her, not knowing where she was or who she was at the moment because her brain was so hopelessly muddled. Her eyes began to focus and upon seeing the large man sitting beside her, she screamed in terror before scuttling across the seat to press her back against the passenger side door. It was a fruitless and ridiculous attempt to put as much space between them as possible in the cramped front seat of the car. She slapped at his hand that reached out to her, hissing at him like terrified cat.

Father Anderson recoiled, putting his hand back on the steering wheel. Releasing a heavy sigh, he rolled his eyes heavenward. Dealing with this one was going to be an emotional thrill ride full of the unexpected. She was a new kind of being that had never existed before. Ushered into death by a vampire, tainted and sullied, only to be purified before her resurrection by a servant of God. He had awakened her on the third day of her death before the vampire transformation was complete. Apparently a war between good and evil was taking place inside of her because he had not done enough to remove all of that evil nature within her.

Eva began panting, struggling for air and control of her mind and body. Bewildering, terrifying images flashed through her mind. She could see Alucard's lean, horridly handsome face, his fangs bared and murderous intent in his black eyes. He lunged at her, sinking his teeth into her neck, sending spurts of blood in all directions to fall to the ground like red raindrops. Then her mind's eye created a vision of herself jumping onto the back of the man driving car, clamping down onto his beefy neck with every bit of strength in her jaws. The image was so vivid, the sensation of his firm flesh giving way to her teeth so real, her jaws began to ache. A keening sound - a high-pitched, canine wail of frustration, sadness, and longing - temporarily deafened her to all other sounds. It penetrated her head as if she were actually hearing it through her ears instead of it bouncing around inside her skull. She covered her ears and closed her eyes, screaming in an attempt to eradicate the howling noise from her senses.

The priest had reached his limit of patience. Unable to bear her woeful cries of distress, he seized a handful of the sheet below where she was twisting it together with her shaking hands. Snatching her across the seat, he spoke in a loud thunderous voice, "The Lord said ' Peace I leave with you; my peace I give you. I do not give to you as the world gives. Do not let your hearts be troubled and do not be afraid.'*"

Eva fell silent, slumping forward lifelessly as if she had fainted. The weary priest positioned her next to him, draping his arm across her shoulders before encircling her body in a one-armed embrace.

"Are you all right?" he asked, listening to her labored breathing.

"I'm better now," she answered, her voice barely audible and shaky. "Thank you."

"What am I going to do with you, my poor, lost little lamb?" He patted her on the head as if she were a pitiful child.

"I don't know. I don't quite know what to do with myself," she replied in a serious tone.

Alexander was not sure why, but her response amused him. He chuckled lightly, a deep rumbling sound in his chest that vibrated against her back. A smile pulled at his lips when she sighed in exasperation and relaxed into his body.

"Can I go back to sleep?"

"You can, my dear. We're almost there."

By the time they arrived at the church, Eva was fast asleep. He effortlessly gathered her into his arms to pull her out of the car. The half a dozen or so priests and nuns who acted as caretakers the old church were waiting for him at the front door of the living quarters behind the main church building. The living quarters were twice the size of the sanctuary and able to house up to twenty-four people. There was also a restaurant worthy kitchen, decorous dining hall, extensive library, and well stocked wine cellar. They had prepared rooms for their guests which was where they were leading them.

"We can take care of the woman," the oldest nun offered, attempting to take the sleeping woman from Father Anderson before he entered the room that would be hers.

"Just let her be for tonight," he brusquely rejoined, pushing past her to take the woman to the bed.

"But Father - " the nun attempted to protest before one of the priest's lay his hand on his arm and shook his head. This nun had obviously not met Father Anderson before.

"I'll be staying with her tonight. I need you to bring me food. Preferably a rare steak. She will need to feed when she awakens," he said, his fingertips stroking the young woman's cheek.

"I don't think you should stay here tonight. That is highly inappropriate. Father, what do you mean by feed?" the interfering nun questioned him before the cautionary priest could stop her.

"Sister, please! Go to the kitchen...now!" Father Caution ordered her. His real name was Father Michael O' Hara. He had known Anderson for many years, therefore he knew Sister Mary Margaret Constantine was quickly digging her own grave with words if she dared to offer one more audacious comment. The other nuns and priests took the opportunity to take their leave as well. O' Hara folded his hands together holding them at his waist as was the habit of every priest. "Did Alucard come?"

"No, but he will," Alexander muttered, petting her hair that was splayed across the pillow. "She needs to be ready to kill him when he does come for her."

"I'll call Saint Sebastian's Cathedral so they will be expecting you. You can go there to train her," he advised the distracted man who was busy checking the young woman for any further injuries - as much as propriety would allow.

"Thank you, Father Michael," his associate said, covering the woman wrapped in the sheet with the sheets and blanket on the bed.

"Are you sure taking her was a good idea?" O' Hara queried, tentatively toeing the unspoken boundaries of their relationship.

Father Anderson eyed his cohort severely before answering. "Taking her was a stroke of divine inspiration. Who am I to spit in the face of providence? She could be the ultimate weapon we've been looking for to wipe the face of the earth clean of Alucard."

"The best way to catch a thief is to use a thief?"

"The best way to catch a monster is to use a monster." A wide grin full of teeth and wrath split Alexander's face. "I would know after all, wouldn't I? Because I am the monster the church has used for years."

O' Hara backed away, one tentative step at a time. The intimidating giant priest could strike fear into the heart of all men and most beasts. He hurried to his office to make that phone call to arrange for accommodations for Anderson and his unusual charge. Making travel arrangements as well might expedite the process of getting them out of his church.

*John 4:14, Revelation 22:17

*St. Catherine of Alexandria is the patron saint of librarians.

*John 14:27