"Do not ask it." Desperation marked his voice, its edge blunted behind Alucard's lingering grasp on composure, but no less real. "I do not wish to kill you. I do not know if I can resist bringing you to him even then. Should I fail in the final moment, your soul would be mine, a familiar to be commanded by my whims, which are in turn controlled by the whims of another. If he orders me to grant him all of your secrets, I would have only to call you forth and command you to speak."
Alucard stepped forward, in spite of himself, and his body lost its shape for a moment as he did. When he reformed, he was clad for battle, crimson duster billowing about him in a nonexistent wind as he hands slipped into its folds to retrieve the Jackal and Casull. The guns were massive, and their barrels gleamed in the fickle moonlight.
"I will say it again. Run. I am beyond your reach. Build an army, and then return. Perhaps, if you can destroy him, there might be something left of this hound to salvage, but you do not have the power that you need in this instant."