Page 46 of Virgil's Demons

"How about pancakes?" I suggested, busying myself with the coffee maker, anything to keep my hands moving so she wouldn't see the tremor in them.

"I've never had them," she murmured, almost like a confession.

I froze for a second, turning to glance at her. The realization hit me like a punch to the gut—it wasn't Barythaya who'd never had pancakes. It was Death.

"Then let's change that," I said, forcing a smile, trying to make this feel normal. "I'll make you some damn good pancakes."

I went through the motions, cracking eggs, mixing batter, but all the while, I could feel her behind me, her presence lingering like a cold shadow that refused to let go. My mind raced, every second ticking by felt like another inch closer to a line I wasn't ready to cross.

How the hell do you get rid of Death itself?

HELLSING

The rain hit the roof like the devil himself was beating down, trying to break in. Which wasn't far from the truth around these parts. It was cold, and relentless, a bit different than the hurricane storms we had in New Orleans. Each drop pounded harder than the last, mixing with the wind that howled through the huge redwood trees outside the Royal Bastards MC clubhouse.

The air smelled of wet asphalt and old wood, and my boots squished in the mud as I trudged up to the door. I could feel every inch of my skin soaked through, clothes sticking to me like a second skin. But the rain wasn't what had me shivering. No, it was something else. A weight. A pull. I could sense death nearby—lingering in the air, creeping under my skin like ice.

Saddle opened the door just as I reached for the handle, his eyes narrowing when he saw me standing there like a drowned rat. "Hellsing?" His deep voice rumbled over the sound of the storm, more confused than pissed. "What the hell are you doin' out here, son?"

I shoved past him, not even caring about the water pooling beneath my feet on the hardwood. "Virgil—" My voice cracked like thunder, barely keeping it together as I stumbled inside.The warmth of the clubhouse didn't even register. My mind was racing too fast, thoughts colliding, each one screaming to be heard.

"Hey, who brought you?"

"I came on my own."

"How?"

"I had enough money for a flight and a car into Port Townsend. I had to walk up the rest of the mountain."

"Holy shit, that's nearly ten miles, in this storm." Saddle shut the door and put an arm around me, guiding me further inside.

"Where's Virgil? He's in trouble. I know he's in trouble."

"How do you know that, son?"

"I can feel it. I just know it," I whispered.

"Everything is fine," Brim said as he watched me from is perch on the stool by the bar.

I grabbed Saddle's arm. "Virgil asked me to tell him when I found something. He told me not to go after it myself, but I did. I fucking did," I shook my head remembering what I had done.

"It ridiculed me. Said I'd never be able to save anyone."

"Who did?" Saddle asked.

"A demon. A shapeshifting demon."

"Whoa," Brim uttered.

"But I did, I was strong enough. I did save someone. But not before the demon confessed that something worse was coming after Virgil and me. And that death was lurking, waiting."

Saddle glanced over at Brim, a quiet exchange between them. Brim spoke first. "You're just exhausted, kid. How 'bout we get some food into you?"

"Something is really wrong in here! Can't you sense it?" I asked them. "It's like you can't breathe."

Saddle crossed his arms as he exchanged looks with the other brothers I'd met down in Louisiana. Guardian, Grim, all of them watching me like I'd just grown a second head. Butbefore anyone could say anything, before I could even get the words out, Virgil walked in. And behind him—a woman I didn't recognize.

My stomach dropped.

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