The Blood Queen 63 (Patreon)

Chapter 63

– Valerie –

My life could get goddamn weird sometimes, and right now was one of those moments. I had my arms crossed tight over my chest, leaning on one hip, just staring at the sight in front of me. Poseidon was on the floor, golden blood dripping out of him from all his cuts and gashes. 

It pooled under him, thick and shiny, and every drop smelled amazing.

Even Gasper, standing right beside me, had his eyes locked on the golden puddle under Poseidon like it was the best thing he’d ever smelled. My brother usually hated blood, but right then I could see his fangs just barely peeking out, and his throat worked in a hard swallow. That shiny, rich-smelling divine stuff was tempting the hell out of him, and honestly, I couldn’t blame him.

The scent alone made my own hunger spike hard enough that I had to bite the inside of my cheek to keep from taking a step closer.

Poseidon had fucked around and he had found out...

He was gasping out apologies like a whipped dog, his voice cracking as he begged the Queen and Integra to forgive him for being an arrogant bastard.

And right on top of him, looking way too pleased with himself, was my dad, Alucard. He was literally sitting on Poseidon’s back like it was his goddamn throne, one boot digging into the god’s ribs just enough to keep him still. Every time Poseidon tried to squirm or push himself up, Dad casually shoved him back down with a solid smack or a little extra pressure from his heel.

“Not good enough,” Alucard said in that smooth, taunting voice of his. “Say it again. Louder. Make sure Her Majesty hears it this time.”

Poseidon let out a grunt, his pride bleeding out faster than the gold running down his neck. “I’m sorry… I was arrogant… I was wrong…”

The Queen and Integra just stared at him like he was something foul stuck to the bottom of their shoes. Neither of them was about to forgive a damn thing. Integra’s voice cut through the room, sharp as a whip. “What the hell are you doing on British soil, Poseidon? Last I checked, you’re a Greek god. That means you keep your ass in Greece unless invited.”

Poseidon coughed, golden blood dripping from his mouth as he glared back. “I’m here for my children. They belong to me, and I will be taking them home.”

Integra rolled her eyes so hard I thought they might get stuck. “You’re not getting your child slaves back. The girl works for Hellsing now, and the boy’s going to an English boarding school to become a proper gentleman. You can go cry about it to whatever other gods tolerate your sorry ass.”

Damn, she was slapping him over and over with all the disrespect. I loved it, and judging by dad's expression, so did he!

That flicker of rage in his eyes flared bright, and he tried to push himself up. Big mistake. Dad didn’t even blink behind his glasses, he just drove his boot down hard between the god’s shoulder blades, smacking him flat against the floor again with a solid thud.

Poseidon grunted, face twisting in pain, golden blood splashing the marble under him as Dad leaned more of his weight in. “Stay down, fish boy,” Alucard said lazily. “You’re not calling the shots here.”

I think I actually saw the stoic Walter crack a smile at the words "fish boy."

The Queen’s voice cut through the tension in the room like a blade. “This attack will not go unanswered. You gods are clearly far too arrogant for your own good.” Her tone was sharp, with that calm, deadly edge only someone like her could pull off. Poseidon didn’t say a word, but the tight clench of his jaw and the way his nostrils flared told me he was swallowing a lot of pissed-off pride. She didn’t waste time before turning her attention to Dad. “Alucard, how do we keep the gods out of my lands?”

Poseidon decided to open his mouth again. “I could swear on the River Styx that I won’t return, if you let me go!” He said it like he thought it was some grand, honorable offer.

Dad let out a short, sharp snort that was halfway to a laugh. “That’s a bullshit swear you Greek gods toss around to trick idiots. You swear, break it, and then act all surprised when mortals are dumb enough to believe you meant it.”

Alucard’s grin spread slowly and dangerously. “Alright, fish boy—new deal. You’re gonna swear on your own essence that you won’t attack mortals unless they give you a damn good reason. No more unprovoked shit, ever.”

The second those words left his lips, Poseidon went stiff. His eyes flicked up toward Dad, narrowing with a mix of shock and fury. “How… how the hell do you even know about that?” he demanded, his voice rough, like the question had been dragged out of him before he could stop it.

Dad didn’t so much as twitch. “You don’t ask questions here,” he said flatly. Then he pulled out his black monster of a handgun, and pressed the cold barrel hard against Poseidon’s temple. The metallic click of the hammer cocking back was loud enough to echo off the marble walls.

...

I was slouched deep into the leather seat in the limo, still purring under my breath as I sucked the last traces of gold from my fingertips. My tongue ran over my knuckles, catching every drop I’d missed. My whole body hummed with leftover hunger satisfaction.

Right after Poseidon had finally been allowed to run away, Gasper and I had moved faster than I thought possible. We dropped to the marble like a couple of starved strays, pressing our faces close to the puddles he’d left behind. That golden blood was thick and warm, the taste punching straight through my self-control. I didn’t even care that half the royal guard was staring down at us with open disgust like we were the most feral things they’d ever seen in the throne room.

Fuck ‘em—none of them had any idea how good that was.

Gasper had been right next to me. I caught him growling low when a guard stepped too close, and I didn’t even bother telling him to stop.

And thank fuck I’d managed to keep my body from tipping over the edge in front of the Queen. It had been close—too close—but I held it together.

Gasper was squirming in his seat like he wanted to melt into the upholstery, his cheeks flaming red. Both of his hands were clutching at the hem of his skirt, twisting the fabric as if that could hide the fact he’d just realized he’d been on his hands and knees licking blood off the palace floor.

His wide eyes kept darting to me and then to the window, like he was trying to find an escape route from his own embarrassment.

Across from us, Integra sat ramrod straight, her legs crossed neatly, and her hands folded on top of one knee. She was in full commander mode, and her sharp blue eyes were locked on both of us. “That,” she began in a slow, clipped tone, “was absolutely unacceptable conduct for representatives of Hellsing in front of the Queen and her court.” Her voice never rose, but each word hit like a hammer. “You are to maintain discipline and composure at all times. You will never engage in such disgraceful feeding behavior in a royal audience again. Is that understood?”

Gasper mumbled something that might’ve been a yes, his shoulders hunched and head ducked down. I sat there with my hands resting on my thighs, nodding just enough to look cooperative while keeping my mouth shut.

I knew better than to mouth off right now.

I wasn’t even really listening to the specifics—just watching her lips move and making the occasional “mmhmm” noise. Pissing Integra off right now would be a special kind of stupid, and I was trying to avoid that.

Walter, ever the calm one, cut through the tension with that smooth, collected voice of his. “Alucard, enlighten us—what exactly does it mean for a god to swear on their essence?”

Dad’s grin stretched wide, showing off every sharp fang he had, like the answer tasted sweet just to say. “It means, dear Walter, that he’s swearing with every last fiber of his existence. Gods don’t have souls like mortals do, but their essence is damn close. Break a promise bound by that, and poof—no more god. He wouldn’t just be punished. He'd stop existing entirely.”

That sank in hard. I let out a low, impressed whistle. “Shit… that’s actually badass.”

Integra’s lips twitched just enough to show she approved. But then she frowned a bit. “Can Poseidon break that oath?” she asked.

“...Oh, yeah. Totally. Gods wriggle out of that kind of crap all the time because they’re bullshit. Don’t get me wrong, it’ll stick for a bit—he’s out of the game for at least a few months before he can fuck around again—but if you think that overblown merman’s gonna stay clean forever, you’re dreaming.” Alucard shifted his attention to me suddenly, his grin turning sly. 

And obviously Alucard was counting on that. I knew he wanted a real fight with Poseidon, where he could really let loose. Obviously he wasn’t able to do that in the middle of the royal palace and he had to immediately crush the water god before a real fight could have started.

“So, daughter… how’d you like your first taste of god blood?” he asked me.

The corner of my mouth curled up, and I let the satisfaction bleed into my grin. “It was so fucking good,” I told him without hesitation, licking a faint smear of gold from the edge of my lip just to drive the point home. 

Gasper, still red-faced beside me, tried to pretend he wasn’t listening—but his wide eyes gave him away. I was happy he liked it too. After drinking Alucard’s blood—he was starting to change slowly but surely.

I realized just as the limo should’ve taken the usual turn toward Hellsing Manor that we were heading in a completely different direction. I leaned forward a bit, squinting at the unfamiliar streets rolling by. “Uh… where the hell are we going?” I asked.

Integra didn’t even look at me right away—just kept that cool, commander posture before finally glancing over with a grin that told me I was about to regret asking. “WE aren’t going anywhere,” she said, her tone way too pleased. “But you and Alucard are.”

Great. That was never code for something easy.

I glanced at Dad across the seat, trying to figure out if he’d been in on whatever this was. He just let out this low, smug chuckle. “We’ve got a vampire kitty to track down.”

“You mean that teleporting little shit?” I asked. “How the hell are we supposed to catch him?”

Dad’s grin stretched wider, like he’d been waiting for me to ask. “Start where it’s obvious.”

“Obvious?” I pressed.

He tilted his head. “Where did all the Nazi fucks run off to after they lost World War Two?”

I thought about it for half a second before it clicked. “…South America?”

“Bingo.”

– Gasper–

Gasper walked slowly down the hallways of Hellsing Manor, his shoulders slumped slightly in disappointment. His sister Valerie and their dad Alucard had gotten to go on some exciting adventure to South America, chasing down evil Nazis, while he was stuck at home because he didn't have enough training. He tried telling himself he wasn't that bothered by it—after all, he wasn't exactly the rugged, outdoorsy type. Bugs and humid forests weren't his scene. He liked his comforts, thank you very much. But still, there was a definite sting to being left behind, like he wasn't good enough or something.

As he trudged moodily along, brooding about his lonely, indoor existence, a scent abruptly grabbed his attention.

Rich, thick, and familiar—it was just like that divine blood from earlier, the one he'd embarrassingly licked off the floor right in front of everyone. He blushed fiercely at the memory, heat radiating in his cheeks.

Had he seriously just thought of blood as tasty?

That was new. 

Blood had never appealed to him before, but right now, he couldn't deny how appetizing the scent was. 

Gasper pushed the door open hesitantly, peeking around the edge. Inside the room sat Persephone Jackson, the daughter of that meanie, Poseidon. She lounged back in one of the oversized armchairs, but her brow was furrowed deeply as she glared at the book in her lap.

Gasper swallowed hard, his gaze lingering on the flecks of blood—deep red with shimmering traces of gold—that spotted the pages. It looked like she'd given herself a nasty paper cut, and Gasper's heart skipped at the sight, his mouth instantly going dry.

His fangs ached slightly, reminding him of his embarrassing new fondness for blood.

He blushed furiously, cheeks growing hot, and wished desperately that his instincts wouldn't choose now to betray him.

Persephone's green eyes flicked upward suddenly, narrowing slightly when she spotted him standing there gawking like an idiot. "Are you planning to just stand there staring, or did you actually need something?".

"Uh," Gasper stammered out, face burning brighter as he forced his feet to move. "Sorry, I just—" he gestured vaguely at her lap, his words failing him completely. Gasper shifted nervously, clearing his throat before speaking. "Uh, hi. I'm Gasper," he said, managing only a slight stutter—spending time around pretty girls had given him a bit more confidence, though it was still a struggle sometimes.

Persephone glanced up from her book, her irritated expression softening slightly as her eyes took him in. A faint, amused smile tugged at her lips. "Hey, Gasper," she replied smoothly, brushing a few strands of dark hair behind her ear. "Persephone Jackson, brand new monster hunter—at least, that's what I'm told." She giggled lightly.

Gasper felt a little relieved. Persephone wasn't like Tonks, who seemed to take every possible opportunity to flirt with him just to watch him blush.

His eyes caught the tiny streak of blood trickling down her thumb, shimmering gold mixing with rich crimson, and his gaze locked helplessly onto the droplet.

Realizing his stare, Persephone quickly raised her thumb to her mouth, licking it clean in a single smooth motion.

Gasper couldn't help himself, letting out an involuntary, embarrassed whine. His face flushed deeply, and he immediately dropped his eyes to the floor, mortified at his own reaction.

Persephone laughed teasingly. "Aw, don't get too excited there," she teased gently. "You're definitely pretty, but trust me, what you've got between your legs isn't exactly what interests me enough to let you suck my thumb."

Gasper's blush deepened impossibly, and he ducked his head further, mumbling something incoherent while Persephone continued to chuckle softly, clearly enjoying his flustered response. "You're Valerie's brother, right? Or is it sister?" Persephone asked him while eyeing the dress he was wearing.

"I'm a boy," he said while putting his hands on his hips.

"And that's exactly why you're not getting a taste of my blood," Persephone said, shooting Gasper a look that was half amused.

He swallowed hard, surprising even himself when a burst of sudden, mischievous confidence bubbled up from somewhere deep inside. He tilted his head, letting out a shy chuckle as he dared a little teasing jab of his own. "Oh yeah? Bet you'd let my sister Valerie have a taste, though."

Persephone’s eyes widened in surprise, and a shade of pink instantly flushed across her olive cheeks. She stammered, losing all composure for just a second. "Absolutely not!" she protested hotly, but her voice shook just a tiny bit, giving her away completely. "I—I wouldn't get seduced into that damn harem so easily!"

Yeah, It was still a bit weird for him that Valerie actually had a harem, but he was glad they made her happy.

Persephone quickly cleared her throat, attempting to regain some dignity, her green eyes narrowing again in mild suspicion. "Anyway," she said, changing the topic smoothly, "did you just come here to chat, or did you actually want something from me?"

"Sorry," Gasper mumbled quickly, shifting nervously on his feet again. He raised his hand awkwardly, pointing a finger at her injured thumb. "I, uh… I was just following my nose, actually."

She looked down at her thumb, the bright gold and red smear still vivid against her skin, and then back up at him, a smirk tugging at the corner of her lips again. "Your nose, huh? Do I smell good to vampires?"

Gasper hesitated, his nerves making his throat dry and scratchy. He cleared it awkwardly, shifting his weight from foot to foot. "Uh, yeah, actually," he mumbled, forcing himself to look up and meet her sharp green eyes. "You smell really, really good."

Persephone arched an eyebrow at him, clearly pleased despite herself. Her lips curled into a small, smug smirk, her posture straightening ever so slightly in the chair as she absorbed the compliment. "Oh? Do I now?" she purred, voice dripping with playful satisfaction.

"Yeah," Gasper stammered, feeling his cheeks grow hot. His nerves pushed the words out faster than he intended. "But, um, your dad smelled good too. Really good, actually. And—and his blood tasted delicious!"

Persephone's expression shifted instantly from smug to frozen disbelief. Her mouth fell open slightly, eyes widening as she stared at Gasper in stunned silence. For a moment, the only sound in the room was the faint ticking of the old clock on the mantelpiece. Then, finally, she blinked, her voice cracking as she practically shouted, "Wait, what? What the fuck do you mean his blood tasted delicious?! What exactly happened while you guys were gone?!"

– Valerie –

I sat casually in the uncomfortable seat of the military transport plane as it rattled through the turbulent skies toward Rio de Janeiro. My long legs stretched out lazily in front of me, boots crossed at the ankles.

Yep, fighting insane vampire Nazi's in another country. No problem, I got this mission in the bag.

Dominating the cramped interior was Alucard’s enormous black coffin, placed deliberately in the center of the aisle. Occasionally, the coffin would shudder slightly with the plane's jolts, but I knew nothing short of Armageddon would disturb my father's sleep before the mission.

Across from me, sprawling out confidently in his seat, was Pip Bernadotte, leader of the Wild Geese mercenary group.

Pip leaned forward with an easy swagger, his grin widening as he caught my attention. "You know," he began with his unmistakably thick accent that I found amusing, "I usually work alongside Seras. That woman’s built like a goddess, all curves and power—one hell of a sight." He gave me an exaggerated smirk, making no effort to mask his blatant admiration. "You, Valerie, are one incredibly lucky girl to call someone that stacked and beautiful your lover."

I couldn't help but smirk right back at his bluntness, rolling my eyes slightly even as amusement flickered across my face.

"Thanks for pointing that out so delicately, Pip," I replied dryly. "Seras speaks highly of you, though she did mention something about your tendency to let your mouth run ahead of your brain."

Pip laughed heartily. "She's not wrong! But hey, at least I'm honest, right?"

"Oh, incredibly honest," I agreed, leaning back slightly with a bemused shake of my head. "You ever consider trying subtlety sometime?"

He chuckled, adjusting his hat with a cocky flourish. "Subtlety’s overrated, chérie. Life’s too short for tip-toeing around. Better to say exactly what's on your mind, no?"

I sighed, conceding the point with a small nod, the corner of my lips curving into a reluctant grin. 

I leaned forward, elbows resting on my knees, locking eyes with Pip. "You ready for this, Captain Pip? This isn't some cute little job in London. We’re dropping straight into vampire Nazi territory, and any backup is gonna be on the other side of the ocean."

Pip grinned at me like I’d just said something hilarious, completely unfazed. He stretched casually, tipping his hat back with one finger. "Valerie, darling, I was born ready for shit like this. Vampires, Nazis—hell, throw in some werewolves if you want. Danger’s my specialty." He gave me an exaggerated wink, leaning closer and letting his voice drop a few octaves. "Besides, the pay's fucking fantastic."

If someone only had one eye, was a wink just a blink?

I snorted softly, relaxing just a bit. "You're not wrong there. Integra’s hazard pay has a habit of keeping morale real high."

"Exactly, ma chérie. I’d fight the goddamn devil himself for paychecks like these."

I started to respond with another smart-ass remark but stopped abruptly, my eyes snapping forward towards the cockpit.

I sensed something. Magic!

Something bright purple, a fucking playing card or something, sliced straight through the windshield with deadly precision. I barely had time to register it before the pilots' heads came flying clean off their shoulders, blood erupting everywhere, splattering against the controls and windshield.

The controls shorted out with all the blood and our plane started to take a nosedive...

“Oh, fuck me!” Pip’s cocky grin evaporated instantly, replaced by wide-eyed panic. He grabbed the armrests, his knuckles turning white as he started screaming like a little girl. "We’re fucking dead! We’re all gonna fucking die!"

I couldn’t exactly judge him, considering the scream coming out of my own mouth matched his perfectly. The plane nosedived sharply, the sudden plunge yanking at my gut. My fingers dug hard into my seat, teeth gritted tight as I tried not to lose my shit entirely.

"Goddammit! So much for fucking hazard pay!" I shouted. Pip kept screaming beside me, a high-pitched shriek that might've been hilarious under any other circumstances.

As the ocean rushed up to meet us, all I could think was, fantastic—what a goddamn perfect way to start this mission. Fucking magic vampire nazis...

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