Chapter 1

The flames of the candles flickered as the dark cloaked figure hurried up the passageway; his boots thudded on the smooth, worn stones beneath his feet. The ornate doors ahead were guarded by two armoured knights. They stood facing each other, their swords touching the ground but poised to strike at any moment.

"I have an audience with His Highness."

The knights nodded in unison and the doors slowly opened of their own accord. Hesitantly, Dhvani stepped into the room, his earlier haste suddenly overcome with the solemnity of the occasion. He was about to step into the presence of the Chosen One. If he had been human he would have taken a deep breath to calm his nerves.

The room was cavernous; the stone ceiling arching high, red velvety curtains were draped over the windows. The moon, a glimmer in the sky, could be seen clearly through the antique glass. A red carpet, soft and thick, led up to the throne. Delicately spun cobwebs hung across the furniture. Rows and rows of candles lit up the room; they cast alternating pools of light and shadow. A shiver went up Dhvani's spine at the thought of meeting the Chosen One. He hurried up the red carpet to the throne at the end. Kneeling on one knee, he bowed his head deeply.

A figure stirred in the shadows of the throne. A man leant forward, his dark hair falling around his pale, finely carved face. Cold, glittering eyes of ice blue swept over Dhvani. "You have news?"


Dave slithered down the last few feet of the wall, his jacket ripping against the rough stone, falling on all fours; he quickly stumbled to his feet. "Get out now!" he roared at his comrades. Picking up his gun, he turned and began shooting at the advancing enemy, running backwards as he did so. He was determined to get as many of the bastards as he could whilst protecting his troops. Behind him, he could hear some of his comrades running for safety. They just needed to get inside the van and then they would be safe. "RUN!" he turned his head to scream at them.

Hissing caused him to turn his head back around and he found himself face to face with one of them. He was an ugly brute with his eyes glittering red and fangs extended. Unfazed Dave's trigger finger twitched on the gun but before the UV light reached its target, the vampire exploded into glittering dust. As the dust settled, a young woman picked up her stake; she laughed and punched Dave on the arm. "Getting abit slow there Lieutenant!" She grabbed his hand and they both began running towards the van.

Reaching it, their comrades pulled them in and slammed the doors close. The engine spluttered to a start and they were flung from side to side as the van rattled down the lane.

"Close call there Lieutenant," The young woman teased Dave, "Just shows that the traditional methods still work!"

Dave removed his jacket and surveyed the rip grimly. He ignored Eva's teasing. "How many?"

"Eight." One of his comrades answered him. He was tapping the details into an iPad. "Just updating the database sir." He looked up at Dave. "Was the target obtained?"

A smile finally broke over Dave's face as he took out a package from beneath his shirt. "Yes." Dave leant back in his seat. "Good work team."


The woman rose stiffly from her kneeling position. She blessed herself with her rosary beads before tucking them safely away under her shirt. She gazed up at the magnificence of the stained glass window for a moment before gathering her umbrella and briefcase and striding out of the church. It may have been summer, but this was a damp night holding the threat of rain. Briskly, she dodged the endless stream of tourists- really where did they come from at this time of the night! Through the twisting alleys and side streets, she arrived at her new destination. An old Georgian house which had been converted into a cafe. Its large square windows threw golden light out onto the dark cold street. Stepping into its warmth, she found herself surrounded by the delicious smells of freshly ground coffee and baked goods. At this time of the evening, the chatter and laughter was now muted. People were scattered around the over plump armchairs and spindly tables, some reading books, other working on their own books, some catching up with friends and some comfortable in their own company, all were just enjoying the cosy, intellectual atmosphere. She approached one such table at the far corner where a priest in his early forties was stirring a pot of tea.

"Father James," she greeted him as she sank into the comforting depths of the accompanying armchair.

"Professor Teverson," he smiled in return. "I have taken the liberty of ordering some ginger cake." He began pouring the tea into the large china cups. "How is the child?"

Professor Teverson accepted the steaming cup of tea with gratitude. "She is well. Her first year exam results were outstanding. How were your travels?"

"Interesting." Father James sipped his tea. "There is considerable tension within the Slayers Guild. The organisation, once so unified, is on the verge of tearing itself apart so conflicted are its members. Of course one could say the same for the vampires."


Dhvani stood in silence as the Count carefully read the parchment before tossing it onto the throne. "No different from the previous version. What does your research say?" he commanded.

"I believe the city of knowledge refers to..." he began speaking but was suddenly interpreted as a flurry of bats entered the hall. With hissing and roaring, the bats morphed into an array of vampires.

"We have been attacked!" One of them marched over to Dhvani and grabbed him around the throat. "Did you lead them to us? Traitor!" He lifted Dhvani into the air and shook him viciously.

"Put him down." The quietly spoken order came from a dark silhouette framed by the bright flames in the fireplace. The dark figure stepped out of the shadowy depths of the fireplace.

"Your Highness," murmured the vampires as one entity as they dropped down into kneeling positions.

Dhvani raised his head just slightly to look upon the Chosen One in person for the first time. He was so very young, just past nineteen yet already he carried an unmistakable air of authority. He was very personification of appearances being misleading. A young man at the end of his teenage years, tall, slim, athletic, dressed simply in what appeared to be a dark gray tracksuit and hoodie. He was undoubtedly a Dracula, the slim build, dark hair, the bone structure and blue eyes all reminiscent of the Count. Yet if the myths and rumours were true this young man was the most powerful vampire ever to walk the earth. His powers far beyond what any other vampire could hope to achieve. He was the vampire who would lead all of them into the future, who would end the slaying and hunting of vampires and ensure not only the survival of their kind but also their victory over all others. The Chosen One. Vladimir Dracula.

"Please rise." The Chosen One waved his hand impatiently at them. "Fort Arad has been attacked by slayers. I take it they were seeking the same information as Dhvani. Did they get it?"

There was a stunned silence for a moment as the visiting vampires took a moment to catch up with their quick witted leader. "Yes. The same book has gone missing." The one who had grabbed and threatened Dhvani broke the silence.

"They are after the prophecy." Vlad walked over to his father's throne and picked up the parchment. "They will have to translate it first and then they will have to interpret it. We are a few steps ahead of them. How many slain?"

"Seven." The same vampire answered. He stepped forward. "Possibly eight. They staked a child!" He cried out suddenly. "A child, Your Highness!"

Horror flitted briefly across Vlad's face. "The slayers know vampires don't transform until they are sixteen." His voice although tightly controlled was edged with anger. It seemed to satisfy the outrage of the visiting vampires. "I trust you have checked the security and made the appropriate arrangements to bolster it. I doubt that the slayers will return now that they have the information they require. I will send an appropriate physician to care for the child. Those of you who are fit to do so, will need to give statements as to the events of tonight. None of you are to go after the slayers."

"But they ..." one of the other vampires began to speak.

Vlad turned sharply to them. The cold determined look in his eyes halted any further speech. "Now is not the time for retaliation. Tend to your wounds. Secure your home. Leave the Slayers Guild to me."

A collective shudder ran through the vampires at his words. In a flurry they all transformed back to bats and left just as abruptly as they arrived.


Eva snapped open a can of Coke. "So is that it now? We are heading back to Germany?" She took a deep gulp of the cold refreshing liquid.

"We need a translator. The headquarters in Germany have some of the best," Dave answered. He took the can off her and took a large sip.

Eva scowled. "But there are still vampires in Arad. If we stay we could get the rest in the morning." She reached for her can.

Dave took another swig slowly before handing it back. "The most important thing is to get this target safely to the translators in Germany." He placed his hands protectively on the oilskin covered package. "This is about much more than slaying just a few vampires. This could be the key to stopping the Chosen One and wiping out all vampires."


Vlad walked back to the fireplace. He leant over the warmth of the flames, his head resting on his arm. He looked deep into the fire, watching the flames devour the wood. He was vaguely aware of his father speaking but the flames distracted him just briefly. The golden flames made him flashback to his dream that morning. The twisting dancing flames turned into a mass of golden hair billowing in the breeze. A young woman was stepping onto a cobbled street. The buildings surrounding her were of mellow golden stone reflecting the warmth of the sunshine. Her long hair was loose and floating around her as it caught the breeze. Her head was flung back with laughter, her eyes sparkling pools of blue. Her hands were placed protectively over a bundle of papers trying to hold them together.

"Vladdy?" His father's voice brought him back into the present.

Vlad turned away from the distraction of the flames. "Yes?"

The Count nodded at Dhvani.

Dhvani opened his briefcase and brought out some more papers. "After some extensive research I believe that the city of knowledge is referring to Oxford."

"Did your research lead you to a Professor Teverson?"

Dhvani raised his eyebrows at Vlad's question. "Yes, Your Highness. Professor Teverson is a specialist in the History of the Supernatural. She has recently received funding to research vampiric legends."

Vlad nodded. Professor Teverson had been a name on one of the papers in his dream. Or perhaps he should now call it a vision. He looked down at the parchment where Dhvani had faithfully copied the last version of the prophecy. Sometimes the unfortunate thing about language was its ability to mean two opposite things at once. Whatever the interpretation of the prophecy, source of power or destruction, the vampires had to find the source before the slayers. The Guild was being torn into factions right now and that made them more dangerous. Those seeking power were more willing to take risks in order to prove their worth as leaders. In the hands of the Guild, the source could be a super weapon able to completely annihilate his people. For months now he had been considering his options whilst gathering as much information as he could on the prophecy. Trying to locate the source would be highly dangerous now that the slayers had picked up the scent. Aside from matters of safety, he considered this too important a task to be left to another vampire. He would have to summon the High Council tonight.


"What makes you so certain that they are coming now?" asked Professor Teverson. She delicately picked up a slice of ginger cake and took a bite. Delicious, moist and spicy, this place never failed when it came to confectionary.

"The slayers and vampires are entering into a race to solve the prophecy. It's only a matter of time before one of them makes the connection to Oxford," answered Father James. He leant forward resting his elbows on the table. "You are expected to play your part Professor Teverson no more or less."

"A turf war between slayers and vampires, that's exactly what Oxford needs," she retorted. "I know my part. I have been working on the prophecy too. It would help if the Order had any more information or guidance to offer." Her voice held a barbed edge.

Father James raised a sardonic eyebrow. "The Order has given you as much information as it is safe to impart. As for guidance, you are the expert in the history of the supernatural; we expect that you will find the answers. We are relying on you to find the source." His face was serious again. "It is imperative that you find the source and bring it to the Order before the slayers or the vampires."


Vlad rose from his chair signalling the end of the High Council meeting. Vlad's words echoed in their minds. "I am the Chosen One; the prophecy concerns me, I alone must face the danger." Some of them were disgruntled at not even having the opportunity to seize glory. Others secretly relieved that at least they would not be facing the perilous task. Nearly all felt aggrieved that they were not even being told the secret location despite the risk of being slain for the information.

In the midst of the murmurs, the rustle of parchment papers being gathered and the slither of cloaks, there was an almost silent twang as an arrow sliced its way through the air towards Vlad's heart with almost deadly precision. For most of the vampires it was so fast that they only noticed it when Vlad effortlessly caught it in his hand and it burst into fire. The roar of fire caused them to snap their heads around to see the would be assassin surrounded by a cage of flames. Vlad nodded to one of the Justices. "Stake him." Vlad's cloak swished slightly as he abruptly turned his back and departed from the meeting room.

The Count and the rest of the High Council remained to observe the staking of the assassin. The Count was nearly shaking with rage that the Blood Brotherhood had made yet another attempt on his son's unlife. He knew that every other vampire in the room was somewhat unnerved and reassured at the same time by Vlad's abilities. Any vampire in that room would think twice before rebelling against Vlad. That, however, was not the point. Someone had just tried to murder his son and heir. Chosen One or not, special powers or not, Vlad was still his son and the Count still wanted to rip the throats out of every last member of the Blood Brotherhood. He kept his rage suppressed as he smiled grimly and shook the hand of each member of the High Council before their departures. He clapped the Justice who performed the execution on the back with gleeful laughter. And when they were all gone and he had finished his duties as the host, he let the mask slip. Opening his mouth he roared with a rage so strong that the very walls of the castle trembled and forks of lightning slammed into the ground.

Chapter 2 teaser:

'Being jolted out of your body was a thoroughly disorientating experience.'