Princes of the Undead

Part 9

---/---

It wasn't difficult for Anderson to gain access. This was hardly his first time in a morgue, considering the line of work he had found himself in, after his retirement from the force and his previous career in forensics. The coroner had already finished his examination, and the death certification for Lucy Westenra had been filled out. The family had probably been notified and would be sending their own mortician soon; as such there was a limited time in which they could remove the body.

Body snatching was not the most glamorous of careers, but it paid the bills.

And Anderson liked to think there was something almost heroic about saving the undead from a truly terrible fate. The idea of being burnt alive was horrifying, and not something anyone should have to go through.

It wasn't difficult for their technician to hack into the computer system, and complete the appropriate release forms for the body, nor to file the appropriate physical paperwork in Lucy's file; all that needed was a simple lock pick. Of course, the family might protest and demand an investigation, but a forged agreement that stated Lucy had signed her body over to science two years before, normally stopped the police from digging. It was a false paper trail and the overworked police would be chasing their tails...if they even bothered to investigate.

Of course, if Lucy didn't rise, then there were ways to return her body to her family after a suitable period, in a closed casket.

Yet as Anderson and his team worked silently and efficiently, Anderson couldn't help but fume that none of this would be necessary if not for Count Dracula. This poor girl would be getting ready for her wedding, not her probable funeral. It made the former police officer in Anderson burn with rage. He was supposed to punish the guilty, and here he was covering up the man's crimes.

Accidents occasionally happened, it was inevitable with vampires and mortals living alongside one another. Yet vampires like Captain Van Helsing had proven that with will power, new technology, and contributions to blood donation and banks worldwide, there was no justification in killing to eat anymore. Dracula had no excuse for this, and Anderson only wished he had the power to bring the man to justice. Anderson would have loved nothing more than to stake Dracula on Lucy Westenra's behalf, on Tommy's behalf, on Agatha's...

And yet without Dracula, his Captain would have died forgotten in a Budapest convent 75 years before he was born, and he would never have met her. She had saved him, given him a purpose, and his dignity back, and Anderson would admit in private, to nursing a small crush on his superior. Not that the Captain would ever look at him in that way. In truth she had never seemed to look at anyone in that way, and Anderson had accepted it, happy to be there as her good right arm, if nothing more.

Then he came back...Dracula, turning everyone's worlds back upside down; looking at and demanding the Captain's time and attention like he had a right to it...and she, she gave it, she gave it willingly, seemingly as obsessed with the Count, as he was with her...and that bothered Anderson more than any of Dracula's taunts could ever do. Didn't she realise she was too good for the likes of Dracula, that he was unworthy?

"Sir..."

"Are we ready to move out?" Anderson asked, relieved when the others nodded.

It was time to take Ms Westenra to her new home...Anderson zipped up the body bag and helped the others transfer the body to a trolley. Such a pretty girl...it was such a damn shame.

---/---

"What exactly is she doing?"

Of all the things Dracula had been expecting when Mycroft called, and let him know they had located Lucy Westenra. Well her body at least, and would he like to check in; Dracula hadn't expected to be greeted by the sight of Agatha straddling Lucy's corpse.