It hurt. Alucard had not felt the like since Abraham had first defeated him. Glasya's binding spell had not been engineered to pare its victim pain. It sought control, and nothing more. When Buffy tugged at it, the spell set it barbs more deeply into the vampire's mind. Alucard staggered. For a moment, he could hardly remember who he was. The Hellsing seals clawed at him in a desparate attempt to regain ground as Glasya's spell was set against the Slayer's powers.
Instinct overwhelmed reason. Alucard's body fell into shadows. Immaterial, he stretched his essence into every crevice and plane where darkness interrupted the moonlight. He forgot his name. He forgot his past. Pain was chased away by violence. Hunger was satisfied by a kill. These were the only truths he cared about in that moment.
Not a single shadow moved, but Alucard did, his damned soul traveling from one pool of darkness to the next like a soft current of air. Detectable, but only just. The current gathered beneath Buffy. Shifted behind her. The hound made no sound as it coalesced, iron collar strung with broken chains. The beast's maw opened as the hound leapt, intent on crushing her spine between its teeth.