Thanks for the lovely reviews. They really make my day. HyaHya, you will also gain my eternal love and gratitude if you review every chapter. Reviews=yayness! I tend to plan a couple of chapters in advance and I can definitely promise we will be seeing a much darker side to Vlad. This chapter contains just a taste of what our favourite Grand High Vampire is capable of... Hope you enjoy it! xo

Chapter 11

The brash yellow of the floodlights surrounded the intricate metal structure illuminating one of France's most famous landmarks. Ah the Eiffel Tower, a marvel of engineering. He still remembered the inauguration ceremony from the nineteenth century. The wine had been rather poor in his opinion but the delicious blood of that unfortunate reporter more than made up for that. Paris had been his birth place. After four centuries of travel, he still found the lure of this city irresistible. No other location had managed to displace Paris in the black space designated as his unbeating heart. This city was the most beautiful in the world. Although he would exchange the current lighting of the Eiffel Tower for something less brash. A petty criticism perhaps but then he always was a perfectionist.
It pleased him to stroll along the banks of the Seine, to watch the lights flicker across the dark shiny waters and to brush past the unwitting breathers who believed that this world was theirs. The petty arrogance of breathers had always irritated him. Their lives were so fleeting and yet they thought they were of importance. But now, ah now the world was falling. And it was falling to Vladimir Dracula's feet.
A half smile, half snarl twisted Bertrand's mouth at the thought of his former student. Where once the book had consumed him, it was now his former student who occupied his mind and emotions. After four centuries of preparing for the Chosen One, how could he not be preoccupied with the Dracula boy? Such power and darkness in one person. The thought made Bertrand shiver with delight. Once the Dracula boy had turned to him, had trusted him above others, valued his knowledge and advice beyond that even of his father. These were the memories he savoured during his exile.
In one sense it was rather appropriate that he should pause in Paris to collect his thoughts as he journeyed back to that miserable and drab country known as England. It was not only his birthplace but also very nearly the place of his final death at Vlad's hands. Bertrand never admitted to mistakes; he simply didn't make any but perhaps if pushed hard enough he could acknowledge he made one nearly fatal error of judgment when it came to Vlad. He had underestimated the much younger vampire. He had viewed Vlad as weak because the young vampire fought against his evil side. However Vlad had proven to be far more intelligent, devious and manipulative than Bertrand had given him credit for. Strange how a near death incident could alter your opinion of someone. The blazing red of his eyes. The wrath on his pale handsome face. His steady and deliberate footsteps in the dark of the night as he coolly walked away leaving Bertrand to an agonising death. It was only the intervention of a member of the Blood Brotherhood which had saved Bertrand's unlife. The membership and the ideology of the Blood Brotherhood continued to undergo both rapid and radical changes but one element remained consistent – the goal of assassinating Vladimir Dracula.
I'm doing you a favour, he silently told his unconscious victim, soon this world will descend into blood and chaos. At least this way your death was quick and relatively painless. With ease he picked up the dead body and tossed it into the Seine. He watched as the body slowly drifted down the river. Calmly he retrieved a crisp white handkerchief from his pocket and carefully dabbed any evidence of the blood from his mouth.

"I don't think I am ever going to drink tea again. From now on it's strictly hot chocolate!" Vlad gulped down the last mouthful of his drink with relish. He set his mug down on her bedside table.
Scarlett giggled slightly as she glanced up at him. He had a chocolate moustache. "A fellow chocolate addict, this doesn't mode well for either of us." She reached up to wipe the chocolate off his mouth. As her fingers touched his mouth, she met Vlad's brilliantly blue eyes; the air suddenly seemed charged with tension. What had been an innocuous action suddenly seemed like a bold signal to kiss her. Vlad moved his lips lightly against her fingertips. The slight coolness of his mouth against her skin felt electrifying. Torn between panic and desire, Scarlett felt breathless. "You have a chocolate moustache," she blurted out, cursing herself even as she said the words.
Vlad grimaced good-naturedly as he wiped his mouth. He slid back onto the bed beside her to continue watching Casablanca. It was one of Scarlett's favourite films. After a moment's hesitation Vlad put his arm around her shoulder and Scarlett snuggled into his side. Inwardly she was still cursing herself. For one moment it had looked like Vlad was on the verge of kissing her and she had just acted like an idiot. Tamara was probably right about her and Vlad. She wasn't suitable for someone as hot as him. She would only end up disappointing him. Lost in dark thoughts for a few moments, Scarlett felt the old and familiar despair wash over her. As if anyone could ever care about her.
"Scarlett?" Vlad's voice was soft and questioning in her ear.
She looked up at him. He was frowning in concern. He was so utterly gorgeous he took her breath away. She forced herself to smile brightly at him. "Sorry, I was just thinking about something else." As Vlad smiled back, she couldn't help thinking that his mouth was insanely sexy. Shifting slightly in his arms, Scarlett reached up again and traced his mouth with her fingertips. Maybe she would get it right this time. After all how badly could a kiss go?
Vlad caught her wrist gently, his fingers brushed over the fading redness of the scars on her arm. Normally Scarlett would have pulled her arm back abruptly. Covered up her scars. Make a joke about how clumsy she was.
Vlad's reaction seemed different from other people. He touched her scars without revulsion. His fingers were extraordinarily gentle and when his eyes met hers they were full of sorrow. "Have you ever talked to anyone?" His voice was calm and quiet.
Scarlett shrugged dismissively. "I don't need to," she said firmly. She pulled her arm away from his grasp. He let go of her immediately. His reaction was completely different from most people. Scarlett was so used to hostility, accusations and disgust that she wasn't sure how to respond to his calm compassion.
Vlad leant back against the headboard. "Ingrid, my sister, went to counselling once. It really helped her," he remarked casually.
Scarlett drew her knees up to her chest and wrapped her arms around them. "I was a care kid. I've had quite enough of people interfering in my life." The words came out slightly harsher than she intended.
"Care kid?" Vlad repeated. He sounded confused. He spoke English so well that she sometimes forgot that he came from another country and that he may not understand colloquialisms.
"Um it means a kid who was in the care system. Social services. Foster care. Children's home. That sort of thing," Scarlett explained. She looked up at him searching his face for any sign of distaste or judgment.
"Oh," Vlad said softly. "But you said about your father..." Scarlett bit her lip and summoned up the strength to explain her dysfunctional background in the form of a few lines which were as bland as possible. "I was orphaned at the age of ten. I was taken into care for a couple of years until I was fostered by a nun Sister Mary." She knew her voice was unnaturally emotionless as she spoke.
Vlad's expression was sympathetic. "And you said that explanation so many times that it almost doesn't bother you."
Scarlett looked at him in astonishment. "Sounds like you might actually understand."
Vlad's laugh was bitter. "Mum and Dad split up when I was little. My sister decided she wanted her independence. This is my half brother; he's staying with us for a while." Vlad's eyes were shadowed with sadness. "Yes, I understand." He opened up his arms inviting her back into his embrace.
Scarlett moved back into his arms and hugged him tightly. Vlad wrapped his arms reassuringly around her. Scarlett breathed in the delicious scent of his aftershave. Curled up in Vlad's arms, watching her favourite film and full of delicious chocolate brownies she felt safe and cared for. The earlier mist of despair just seemed to melt away at Vlad's touch. In the darker depths of her mind, she knew that these feelings of happiness were dangerous. She shouldn't allow herself to get close to another person. Hadn't she been hurt enough times already to know that this was a mistake? Vlad pressed a gentle fleeting kiss against her hair. Scarlett suppressed her worrisome thoughts and snuggled closer against him.

Eva leant against the doorframe and watched Dave pack. His quick deft movements folding the clothes into tidy rectangles were another reminder of his military past. "What am I supposed to do without you?" she demanded.
Dave didn't waste time even glancing at her. "Nothing. That's the point. You are being decommissioned until such time as the peace treaty is ratified." Dave zipped up the backpack.
Eva rolled her eyes. "Now you are just quoting from the missive to avoid my questions." Taking a deep breath she unfolded her arms. "Look it's not just about slaying," she said in a much quieter voice. "I don't have any family left. The vampires took care of that. In the past year you have been the only constant in my life. Ugh!" Eva turned away to roughly wipe her tears away with her sleeve. She didn't want her mentor to see her cry; he had taught her that tears were a sign of weakness.
Dave patted her gently on the back. "Now, now missus, no need for waterworks." He put his arm around her shoulders in an awkward hug. "You can return to Britain now. Maybe go to college. You can lead a normal life. The Guild will sort you out we look after our own. You have served with distinction; the Guild won't let you down."
Eva managed a watery smile. "A normal life? I've nearly forgotten what that is."
Dave hesitated for a moment. "Look, I'll be in touch, it might be a while before I can contact you but I'll find you and I'll make sure you have been provided for." He released her from his hug and picked up his coat from the bed.
"Why can't you come with me now? We could be resettled together." Even to her own ears, it sounded pathetic and whiny. "Forget it! I'm just being silly." Eva folded her arms tightly across her chest and swallowed hard to prevent anymore tears.
Dave hesitated for a long moment, his eyes looked suspiciously bright. "I'm sorry kid; I've got a different decommissioning schedule on account of me being a long term member."
"Are you sure about that?" Eva's voice was thick from the effort of holding back tears. "They have been rounding up members to punish, just to satisfy those bloodsuckers."
Dave shook his head. "Don't worry about me," he reassured her.
Eva took another deep breath. "Lieutenant, will I be one of them?" she asked fear making her voice hoarse. "I was there at Arad..."
Dave grabbed her arm and pulled her into the room. He checked the corridor outside the room and then shut the door firmly behind him. "Listen to me," he said urgently in a low whisper, "You served with distinction. I'm sure in time the Guild will reward you properly with a medal of honour for what you did at Arad. Right now, it's complicated. The Guild will not be handing over their best slayers to vampires. They will be decoys. You have nothing to fear." He walked over to his bed and hoisted the backpack onto his shoulder. "Take the resettlement, I will find you." His voice back to its usual volume, Dave flung open the door and stalked off before Eva could see the tears welling up in his eyes.

"It's nearly dawn I should go and let you get some sleep," Vlad whispered into Scarlett's ear. The only response he received from Scarlett was a noncommittal "Mmm." She was half asleep in his arms, her head resting on his chest, her body curled up against his. Vlad's sexual experience with members of the opposite sex had not extended to cuddling. Strangely vampires didn't really do the 'cuddling thing'. The sensation of Scarlett's warmth and softness against him was amazing. It was strange that just cuddling made him feel closer to her than any of the other women he actually had sex with. Vlad was incredibly reluctant to leave, he waited to stay just where he was, happy and relaxed in Scarlett's arms but he knew that he had to attend an important meeting with his father. Slowly Vlad began to extract himself from Scarlett's embrace. Sleepily she yawned and pressed her face against the pillow. Vlad gently tugged the duvet out from underneath her and covered her with it. He bent down to gently kiss her cheek goodbye and breathed in her now familiar scent. He had the strangest feeling that he was falling through space and when he landed it was going to hurt like hell.
A flashback of his vision flickered across his mind. One night surrounded by rain and darkness, Vlad would look into Scarlett's eyes and experience terror so strong that he trembled at the sight of her. Vlad suppressed the memory as rapidly as it surfaced. Perhaps he should be wary of this beautiful and mysterious girl who could speak fluent Aramaic and didn't notice the coldness of his touch. Yet Scarlett had also saved his unlife, she had looked after him when he said he was unwell and it was her brilliant mind that was tracking down the source for him. The past few days without Scarlett's presence had been dull, grey and meaningless.
Vlad glanced at the alarm clock on Scarlett's bedside table. There wasn't time to think about the vision. It would have to wait. He left Scarlett's room as quietly as possible, not wanting to disturb her. Once outside he was able to take flight and arrived at his lodgings within seconds.
Dmitri was waiting for him in the reception hall with an annoyed expression on his normally blank face. "Your Highness, I do not think it is appropriate for you to send me away like that." Dmitri had not appreciated the telepathic command from Vlad to wait for him at the Banbury Road mansion.
Vlad groaned. "Dmitri, you could at least let me take my jacket off before you start!" he complained. "There is no point in you standing outside in the cold all night. I was perfectly safe."
"No, you weren't," Dmitri disagreed with surprising vehemence. "Alone in a room with a breather, it is the perfect set up for a slayer. The Blood Brotherhood could have been waiting for you outside."
Vlad held up his hand to indicate that Dmitri should cease talking. His bodyguard obeyed immediately. "Very well, we will discuss security arrangements in the evening. Right now I'm in need of a nap before breakfast. I will see you later."
Dmitri looked slightly appeased. He nodded his head and stepped back to allow Vlad to ascend the stairs.
Vlad had chosen the tower room of the mansion; it reminded him of his old tower room in Stokely Castle. Dmitri had been unhappy with Vlad's choice, arguing that a room in the basement would be more secure. Vlad counter-argued that he needed the basement for training. The discussion had terminated on that note. In fairness Dmitri was only trying to do his job, it was just that Vlad found his presence stifling after the freedom of the past few weeks.
The tower room in Oxford couldn't be more different from his old teenage room in Stokely Castle. A large flat screen television was mounted on the wall. The floor boards were immaculately polished with beeswax. Only the coffin in the centre gave any indication that its occupant wasn't a breather. Vlad clicked his fingers, the lid of his coffin unlocked and he climbed into the dark space.

The newspaper crackled as it burst into flames. With a shrill shriek of rage, Ingrid tossed the smouldering embers onto the floor. How dare her father defy her authority and position? Ingrid stormed over to the window and glazed unseeingly at the bright city lights. The penthouse of the skyscraper offered spectacular views of Hong Kong but all Ingrid could see was the Count's mocking smile. She was Countess Dracula, sister to the Chosen One and his right hand woman. The rest of the Grand High Council accepted her status as one of Vlad's closest and most important aides. The rest of the clans acknowledged her position as one of the most influential and powerful vampires in the new world that was emerging. Her father on the other hand, the so called great Count Dracula, sneered at her, demeaned her and constantly found petty ways in which he sought to undermine her such as not inviting her to the Halloween Ball. She had every right to be at that ball and to have place of honour beside Vlad. Ingrid's eyes narrowed in determination. She refused to let the Count sideline her in this manner. It was time to assert her authority.
"Start packing immediately," she snapped at the servant who had just entered the room to check the cause of the scream. "We are going on a little detour."

Dave slammed the door of the car boot down. "I'll take the first shift at driving," he called to his new slaying partner. After his goodbye with Eva, he felt like he needed the distraction. To his relief Jonathan Van Helsing nodded in agreement. It was always awkward changing slaying partners, you had to get used to each other and the extra pressure of this special assignment wouldn't make the process any easier. Dave was intrigued to be placed with Van Helsing. He knew that the Van Helsing family had a strong tradition of slaying, Eric Van Helsing, Jonathan's father had not been a particularly accomplished slayer, rumour had it he had even failed a slaying inspection months before his death. In contrast, Jonathan had become known as one of the best slayers in Western Europe. Adding to Jonathan's almost legendary reputation was of course the fact that he had personally known the Chosen One. Rumour had it that he almost defeated the Chosen One in battle.
Dave settled into the driving seat and ignited the car engine. "So back to England," he said conversationally. "Ever been to Oxford before?"
A flicker of a smile crossed Jonathan's face. "No, but I'm looking forward to it."

Chapter 12 teaser

'I would totally let him bite me.'