Page 56 of Hellsing's Grace

Bael was silent for one heartbeat, then he laughed.

“Isn’t that the point?” he said. “Where is the pleasure in ending a game on the first move? He suffers more when I take my time. You suffer more. That is the beauty.”

My stomach twisted. My soul felt thinner. Each word from him stripped something away.

In that darkness, I heard Seraphine begin to chant.

The language was old. The words rolled out of her throat in a smooth, relentless stream. Hellsing bowed his head for a moment, then lifted it again. His eyes never left my face.

“Stay with me, Grace,” he said. “You hear those words? You grab onto them. You do not let that bastard drown you out.”

I tried. I stared at his eyes. Blue and dark, lines at the corners from too many sleepless nights. There was fear there. There was love there. There was a stubborn refusal to let me go.

I reached for him. My hands lifted from his and my fingers rose toward his throat.

I did not send that command.

Bael did.

Hellsing froze and my thumbs pressed against the bruises on his neck. Pressure built. His breath hitched.

“Grace,” he croaked.

I screamed.

It was silent. It tore through the inside of my head and never touched my mouth.

“Stop,” I begged. “Please. Stop. Leave him alone. Take me. Do what you want to me. Leave him.”

Bael tightened my grip for one pulsing beat, then let go all at once.

My hands dropped back into my lap.

Hellsing sucked in air, eyes wide, hand going instinctively to his throat. Seraphine stopped the chant for a second.

She looked from him to me.

“Peter,” she said. “You all right?”

“I’m fine,” he rasped. “Keep goin’. He’s playin’.”

He.

He saidhe.

I latched onto that because my love knew it wasn’t me hurting him. I could never hurt him.

“Hellsing,” I pushed, every ounce of strength pouring into one word. “Hellsing.”

The sound burst past Bael in a torn whisper.

My mouth barely shaped his name. It came out raw, thin, but it was mine.

His head snapped up. “That’s her,” he said. “Do that again, cher. Come on. Push him out. You can do it.”

Bael tightened his hold. “Enough,” he said in my skull. “You get one. No more.”

Cold poured through my veins. My muscles seized. My throat clamped shut. I tried to breathe, and nothing happened for a second.