Integra's spelling lesson – part 1
Standard caveat applies. I don't own Hellsing or any of it's related characters. And now I have the hang of this, y'all can have the story as it was intended.
A figure moved in the darkness beyond the circle of candle light. "Is it done?" a soft, masculine voice asked.
"Yes," a female voice responded. "Although I just wanted to ask-"
"Do not ask questions, and I will be forced to tell no lies. It is a prank, a joke, nothing more."
"Oh. Well. In that case… It should be working now, anyway. Pretty amusing prank, though. And most people don't use witchcraft for something like this."
"Forget this ever happened."
"Sure, sure." A pause. "About my money…"
"It is in your account." A door opened and closed, almost soundlessly.
"Right," the female said. Within the circle of candles, she turned to look at the small wax figure lying in the chalk markings on the table. The long blonde hair, the blue eyes, the glasses. "A prank." She giggled. "Man, I wish I could see this."
Integra glared at Alucard. "I just gave you an order. Obey me!"
The vampire glided closer. "As you wish, my master," he whispered, as he took her into the circle of his arms and brushed the hair from her neck. One hand settled at her slender waist, pulling her tight to his body, the other first stroking, then cradling her face. Integra closed her eyes, lips parting in ecstasy as Alucard drove his fangs into her throat.
"Oh, Alucard, yes," she moaned.
Integra exploded from sleep, her nightgown drenched with sweat, her hands flying to her neck as she sat up, gasping. Shivers wracked her body as the memory of her dream seared through her mind. She grabbed her glasses, settling them as she staggered from her bed. With shaking hands she lit a cigar and inhaled deeply. Her nerves began to calm as the familiar setting of her bedroom grounded her, yet minute tremors continued throughout her body.
She sank onto the end of her four poster bed, not yet willing to return to sleep. What a dream! she thought. I must have been working too hard of late. That must explain it. Integra wrinkled her nose at the smell of stale sweat that rose from her night wear, and stubbed the cigar before ridding herself of the offending garment. Sleep sucked at her again as she slid into another night gown and crawled into bed. A disturbing, horrible dream, but only a dream. Yet Integra's last thought before she fell asleep was not of horror, but of excitement.
She locked her arms around Alucard's neck as he rose above her, luminously pale and perfect. His long, unbound hair swept her naked side as he lowered his head to kiss her. Their mouths met, lips parting, tongues dancing. As he kissed his way down her neck she arched her back, pushing her body against his and moaning in pleasure. He nipped the skin above her collarbone, lapping the blood from the tiny wound with a rough tongue. Integra writhed beneath him as he raised his head and met her lips once more, his hands gliding over her skin, one cupping her breast, the other sliding down, down, over her flat stomach, lower…
Integra was pale as she pulled the brush through her long hair. She slipped into the suit jacket and adjusted the blue tie and gold cross at her throat. She still could not shake the sensations of the dreams of the night before. His hands on her skin, the touch of his mouth on hers… Integra slammed her fisted hands into her dressing table. No! she raged silently. I will not feel this! Even as she fought it, the feelings slid over her again. A line of burning kisses down her breast, a cool breath raising goose bumps on her skin. Her entire body ached and trembled. He is not human! He is a vampire! A monster! She forced herself to take a deep breath, then another, as she repeated this mantra to herself. As she left her bedroom for her study, she had achieved some measure of calm. As Walter entered with the breakfast tray, she was able to convince herself that she was OK, calm, and in control.
Integra sipped her fourth cup of tea for the morning as she went through the correspondence that merited her personal attention. Some society invitations; which she threw in the bin, an official request for more funds from the new commander of her private army; which she granted, and a letter sealed with the signet of the Vatican's Section XIII, the Iscariot Division. Integra drew a breath, then slit the letter open. The envelope fluttered to the table as she read.
The letter crumpled to a ball in her fists as soon as she was done. How dare they! she raged, slamming her hands onto the table with a full throated snarl of fury. Those condescending assholes! In a sweetly worded document, Iscariot offered to absorb the remainder of Hellsing into its own ranks to make up for Integra's recent losses, so that the "work" could continue unabated. The only price for this generous offer was that Alucard and Celas Victoria be destroyed. Never! Not while I have breath will Hellsing give up! Especially to Vatican swine!
She hurled the ball at the waste basket, and missed. In her rage, as she rose to storm about the room, she did not notice Alucard appear and pick up the creased letter from the floor. As she spun, Integra crashed into him and rebounded a step, one foot miring the other. She was headed for the floor when Alucard caught her by her upper arms and steadied her. His grin was in full force as he looked at her.
"Something wrong, my master?" His silky voice dripped sarcasm, but Integra didn't notice. With the touch of his hands on her body, the memories of her dreams returned. She couldn't look away from his mouth, couldn't help the blush that rose to her cheeks, couldn't stop thinking of how he would look naked. Some of this must have leaked through to Alucard, as he let go and stepped away, frowning slightly. "Master?" Integra clenched her hands until her nails dug into her palms, drawing blood even through her gloves.
"Leave me. Get out. Now." Her voice was strangled. She finally managed to look away, out the window, and concentrated on her breathing.
"Master." It was a puzzled Alucard that withdrew, and left Integra alone once more. She wrapped her arms around herself, shuddering; head tipped back, eyes closed. What the hell just happened? Fear, confusion, rage and lust ran through her, as she stepped close to the window to press her flushed face against the cool glass. I am in control! she thought to herself, and knew it was a lie.
Integra paced her bedroom. She had summoned Walter, advised him that she wasn't feeling well, then retired to her room for the rest of the day. What is going on in my mind? I have never seen Alucard as other than a monster, a vampire, a tool to be used. Why do I now desire him? Even thinking this caused shivers to chase their way over her skin. And how did I lose control so badly over a letter? How could one piece of paper inspire such rage? I should know what to do. "But I don't," she said aloud, miserably. She sank down on her bed, emotional exhaustion setting in. She removed her tie, cross, and glasses, then stripped off her gloves and jacket. Just a nap, she thought, the edges of her vision going dark. Maybe I'm too overworked. Integra sprawled across the pillows, fast asleep.
Integra stretched herself above Alucard, kissing down his chest, watching him as he watched her. His nipples were pale; almost the same color as the rest of his torso, but darkened as she flicked her tongue over them. He grabbed her, rolled her over easily, and hungrily pressed his lips to hers. She felt the pressure of him between her thighs, and she trembled all over, wanting him so badly there was an ache low in her stomach. "Please," she whispered, when he lifted his head. "Oh, please, Alucard." The words turned into a moan as he took her nipple in his mouth and bit gently.
Alucard was in his chair in the basement, rolling a glass of dark blood between his palms. He was agitated, a rare state of mind for him. For a moment, just a moment that morning, he had felt the sensations rising from Integra, and they had stunned him. First the tidal wave of rage, then incredible lust, filling the air with the smell of copper and lightening, but only after he had touched her. He could understand the rage if it had continued after he had his hands on her, but lust? It just was not Integra. Now Walter said she was ill, and didn't want to be disturbed. Again, it was not his Master. He had seen her at her desk when she was younger, so sick she was receiving penicillin shots, but continuing to work. Something was wrong.
And yet here she was. His time sense told him it was just after midnight as he watched Integra walk along the corridor towards him. As he place the glass back on the table, he noticed enough details to disturb him. Her hair was in disarray, her tie and cross pin missing, her shirt open to show a triangle of skin at her throat. Something was very wrong. He did not say a word as she crossed to stand just in front of him. There was an odd blankness to her eyes, and the smell of copper and lightening filled the air once more. Alucard watched as she lifted his hand from the table and pressed it to her face, her eyes closing, as she pressed a kiss to his gloved palm. His name left her lips as a sigh as she rubbed her face along his hand, and her other hand extended to stroke his face.
Alucard shot to his feet, but instead of moving back, Integra pressed closer, the hand that was stroking his face tangling in his hair as she pulled his face close to hers. "Alucard," she pleaded in a whisper, "help me." Then her mouth met his. It was as if a fire burned between them. Alucard found himself pulling her close, kissing her back. She opened her mouth to him, and when he opened his, she played her tongue over his fangs. Their bodies molded together in a timeless moment, mouths working, hands wandering over each other. Alucard broke the kiss with a ragged gasp, and Integra buried her face in his neck, kissing and licking what skin was offered by the high collared shirt and tie he wore. Even as she did that, she whispered again, "Help me. Stop me." She lifted her hands, trying to work the tie away, and when he grabbed them and pushed her back, she made a little moan of disappointment and tired to squirm closer. Her mortal strength was no match for his as he fended her off, so she remained at arms reach, panting and struggling to get closer. He looked into her eyes and saw a tiny bit of Integra left, horrified with what was happening, but most of her was a needful thing, whimpering and moaning.
She looked so beautiful, standing there, her lips a red smear, her skin flushed. As is she read his mind, she shook her hair back and tilted her head, giving him full access to her throat as a sultry stare. He had her helpless, her hands pinned, no weapons. She was offering herself to him, giving him what he wanted, what he'd always wanted since he had licked her blood from the floor of the stone room where he had been a prisoner for so long. So why did it feel so wrong?
"Master," he murmured, his voice deep and rough. "What has happened to you?" She didn't reply, just continued to offer him her throat. He saw she was beyond the capacity for rational though anyway. "I cannot do this." He paused. "Well, actually, I can, but I won't. Something here is not right at all." Alucard simply let go and disappeared, vanishing into the shadows, but keeping a watch over her. She looked around, seemingly puzzled, then a lustful smile curved her lips. Slowly, seductively, she undid the top buttons of her shirt, then slid the material from her shoulders. With one hand she reached for the wine glass, with the other she bared her neck. Integra smashed the glass against the table top, spilling cold blood every where, and leaving jagged shards behind. She lifted the sharp stem leisurely, tauntingly; she drew it down and over her throat, leaving a red line behind. The scent of hot blood filled the corridor as she lowered the remains of the glass, and looked around triumphantly.
Alucard was rooted to the spot. She was the most incredible thing he had ever seen; pale skin, red blood, and that smile, promising everything and anything. Almost without conscious thought he rematerialized in front of her, his head filled with the scent of her. He couldn't bring himself to resist as she tangled her hand in his hair again and pulled his mouth down to her throat, her other hand sliding over his back. His lips parted as the scent of her hot, sweet blood washed over him, drowning out almost everything else. Alucard's mind screamed at him, but the precious fluid in front of him overwhelmed him, and he closed his mouth on the wound in her neck.
Bliss swamped him, and he pulled Integra tight to his body, a sound of rapture escaping him, yet not drowning out her sigh of pleasure. She relaxed utterly against him, her arms winding around him. The taste of her was fire, and lightening, and steel, mixed with strength and surety and the earthy tang of a woman's body. As he fed, his mind entwined with hers, and he felt her sincere pleasure. Alucard also heard, in the depths of her mind, her screams.
With a cry, he shoved Integra away, sending her flying past the table to crash into the wall. His entire body was shaking and he spun away, desperately trying to control the raging hunger that burned in him. He had to force himself to look at his Master, crumpled at the base of the wall. Concern drove him to his knees at her side, but her dragging breath reassured him that he hadn't killed her in his uncontrolled moment. He could not tell from the scent of her whether he had broken anything or not – the only thing he could smell was her blood. Carefully, repeating to himself over and over who she was, he gathered her into his arms. Her warm blood tricked down her neck and over her shirt, and Alucard found himself enraptured, staring at its color. He had to drive his fangs into his own lip, tasting his own blood, to break its hold on him. He vanished from the basement corridor, holding Integra close to his heart.
Alucard reappeared in Integra's bedroom, and laid her on the bed, placing a pillow beneath her head and putting her shirt back in place to cover her attributes. He stood, just looking at her for a few moments, then allowed himself to slide out of focus, spreading himself between the human world, and the next, the world of spirits. A thin, pale gold cord touched the considerable aura that surrounded his Master, which swirled with the colors of sex and rage, even in her unconscious state. He could follow that cord, and find out the cause of her behavior. But he first owed a warning to Walter.
"She did what?"
"She's sleeping now. Watch her. Don't let her leave the bedroom, even if you have to chain her to the bed."
"Shouldn't you stay and protect her?"
Alucard looked over his tinted glasses at Walter, a grin stretching his lips. In a whisper, he asked, "What if I'm the thing she needs to be protected from?"
"Someone put a spell on my Master." Alucard removed the Jackal from his coat, triggering the release of the clip, checking to see if it was full. He slapped it back into place with a sound somewhere between a click and a snap. "I intend to give them the time to regret it." With that he was gone.
TO BE CONTINUED…