Thank you very much for the lovely reviews for Chapter 22. I'm really delighted that you liked it. Hope you enjoy this one. There is a possibility that I might write a one shot hinting more at what happened with Bertrand. Thanks for reading and reviewing xo

Chapter 23

"Say it again."

"No."

"Please."

"I feel silly."

"Don't. Your Transylvanian accent is sexy."

"I don't have a Transylvanian accent!"

"It's just the way you roll your 'r's. "

"OK... Vladimir Dracula."

Scarlett laughed softly as she pressed her face against the black fluffiness of Vlad's bathrobe. "See, it's sexy." She peeked up at Vlad to see his eyes glittering with amusement.

"Just sexy?" Vlad stroked her dishevelled hair away from her face. "I must be losing my touch. What happened to 'superbly sexy'?" he teased her. He enjoyed watching the pinkness rise in her cheeks as she blushed furiously.

"That's not fair!" Scarlett protested as she buried her face in his shoulder. "I thought that was a dream. You can't use that against me."

"I'm the son and heir of the great Count Dracula, you can't expect me to play fair." Vlad tilted her face up so that he could kiss her softly. He paused for a moment to gaze into her eyes. "We need to talk, don't we?"

Scarlett nodded, her face growing serious. "Dreams, vampires and prophecies," she said ruefully. "And lies."

Vlad winced slightly at the hard tone of her voice. "I can explain," he promised apologetically. He glanced at the window which showed a brightening sky. "But it's nearly dawn and I have to get home. Tomorrow?" He asked as he stood up and gathered his damp clothes from the radiator. He disappeared into the bathroom to get changed before flying home.

"Tomorrow." Scarlett called after him. He couldn't be sure if it was a warning or promise. "Are your clothes dry yet?"

Vlad emerged from the bathroom. "Bit damp," he admitted as he shifted uncomfortably. "But it won't take me long to get home." He set the black bathrobe down on her sofa. "Should I ask why you have a spare man sized bathrobe? In black?" He raised his eyebrows slightly.

"Oh that would be a present from Robin," Scarlett answered as she watched him fasten his cloak.

"Robin?" Vlad tried to keep his voice casual despite the sudden stab of jealousy. "A bathrobe seems like a rather familiar present. A bit personal actually."

"Are you jealous Vladimir Dracula?" Scarlett threw off her duvet and climbed out of bed. "It came with matching black towels. Robin's attempt at buying something useful. And as it turned out he was right." Scarlett reached up to entwine her arms around Vlad's neck. "Otherwise you would have been in those wet clothes all night."

Vlad slid his arms around her waist. "Then Robin has clearly gotten better at buying presents. He bought me a bottle of fake blood and some plastic fangs for my thirteenth birthday." Vlad pressed his lips against hers in a goodbye kiss. "Oh course I could think of better things to spend the night in," he whispered with a smirk against her lips. He could feel the increased warmth of Scarlett's skin against his as she blushed again.

"Vladimir Drac-!" But before she could get any further, Vlad deepened the kiss so that her tongue was occupied with matters other than scolding him.

"Much of Dolphin's theory on the link between porphyria and vampirism has been severely discredited in recent years. In the next lecture we will be focusing on the changing medical explanations for the folklore of vampirism. I strongly urge you to attend Doctor Porter's lecture series on the history of surgery as there is some overlap regarding the development of anaesthesia. Thank you." As her students filed out of the lecture room Professor Teverson flicked off the switch on the overhead projector. She jumped slightly as she became aware of two figures waiting by her lecture stand. A quick glance to the window reassured her that it was still daylight outside. "No questions after the lecture. I've got a faculty meeting. If they are urgent then email me." She snapped shut the clasps on her briefcase and glanced at the two men. One was in his late thirties, heavyset and slightly balding, the other was much younger perhaps no more than nineteen with a moustache. She didn't recognise either of them as students.

"Please excuse our intrusion," the younger man spoke first. "We were wondering if we could ask you some questions about your latest research project."

Professor Teverson froze with panic for a moment. Had Dracula sent human minions to question her? She struggled to keep her voice calm. "As I just said, I have a faculty meeting." She lifted her briefcase and gave them her best stern glare, "Furthermore I don't believe that either of you are students registered for this course. In which case you are not allowed to be in this building."

"We are from the Guild," the heavyset man spoke abruptly, his eyes keenly sweeping over her appearance. "You know which one." There was menace in his voice.

The younger man gave him an irritable look. "Professor Teverson, we have reason to believe that you are in danger. Your latest research project has brought you and this university to the attention of some very dangerous individuals. Please," his dark brown eyes were pleading, "we are trying to help."

Professor Teverson shook her head in annoyance. "I really don't understand what you are talking about. I would like both of you to leave. Do not make me call security." She straightened herself up to her tallest height and gripped her briefcase tightly.

The younger one stepped out of her way as she walked forward but he persisted in his questioning. "Is Vladimir Count one of your students?"

Professor Teverson couldn't stop herself from stiffening at the mention of that dreadful creature's name. "I do not discuss students with strangers. Confidentiality," she answered in a clipped tone.

"If he is then check out his background. It doesn't add up. We believe that you and all of your students are in the most terrible danger." The younger man pulled a card out of his pocket and set it down on the lecture stand. "When you are ready to talk, call me. We are just trying to protect you and other innocent people." He met her intimidating stare. His dark eyes were full of sincerity. "We are the good guys."

Professor Teverson watched as both men left the lecture room. Exhaling a shaky breath, she reached over and picked up the card.

Dave and Jonno walked the distance from the lecture room to their car in silence. It was only once they were in the car with the doors and windows locked that Dave spoke. He pulled a heartbeat sensor from the pocket of his jacket. "She's a liar."

Jonno glanced at the readings. "She knows something but we don't know what." He tapped the steering wheel in frustration.

Dave returned the heartbeat sensor to his pocket. "She could be working for Dracula," he suggested grimly.

Jonno shook his head. "Nah, did you see the way she glanced at the window? She was checking for daylight." He drummed his fingers thoughtfully. "Her reaction to Vladimir Count. That definitely triggered something." He grimaced impatiently. "I guess we give her a few days to mull things over, check out Dracula's story. Maybe then she will be more amendable to talking to us."

"What if she isn't?" Dave asked aggressively. "What if we are risking lives by waiting for her? She could be under Dracula's influence. We don't know how far he has gotten in locating the source."

Jonno ignited the car engine. "What else can we do?" he asked in weary resignation.

Dave stared straight ahead at the road. "Depends on how badly you want to stop Dracula."

Jonno glanced suspiciously at his slaying partner. "Spit it out Dave," he ordered.

Dave glanced at him speculatively as if he was weighing him up for a fight. "I suggest we bring her in for questioning." His voice was heavy with meaning.

Vlad had known from the contrite look on Dmitri's face that he was in for a rough time with his father. Since Dmitri had taken the blood oath he was unable to directly lie to the Count so Vlad didn't blame him for providing the information. He was also aware that Dmitri had actually done his best to downplay Vlad's non-vampiric behaviour as much as possible without directly lying. It appeared that Dmitri had withheld Robin's slayer status from the Count for which Vlad was profoundly grateful. Although he really wished Dmitri had been able to withhold the information on Vlad's alcohol consumption because that alone gained him a full fifteen minute lecture on how he should not be putting breather poisons into his body. To say that the Count was in a terrible mood would have been an understatement. Vlad's premature departure from Transylvania without any explanation was reason enough for the Count to throw a tantrum. The discovery that Esmeralda Dubois, the attempted assassin of his son and heir, had been executed quickly and quietly in private had pushed the Count into a boiling rage. He had been ranting at Vlad for at least twenty minutes now on this particular subject.

"You should have tortured her with silver. Flayed every last strand of skin off. Drenched her in garlic. Lasered her with UV light. Impaled her on argentilium spikes and waited for the dawn to finish her off. It's been centuries since I attended a good impaling. For hell's sake Vladimir if you were short of inspiration I would have been more than delighted to step in!" The Count was storming up and down the forest clearing, his long cloak whipping back and forth with his every agitated movement. "But no! The Chosen One decides to show mercy to his assassin! Mercy! She staked you! She nearly killed my son and heir!" The Count ended by roaring his wrath into the night sky. He was accompanied by flashes of lightning and ominous rolls of thunder. The Count then turned to glare at the aforementioned son and heir, his eyes burning scarlet red with anger as he pointed an accusatory finger. "Stop smiling!"

Guiltily Vlad tried to suppress his smile. He had let himself slip into daydreaming about Scarlett when his Dad had been ranting. It was an unpleasant jolt back to reality to be confronted by his snarling father. "Dad, I didn't want to execute ... her," Vlad couldn't bring himself to say the name of his former lover. He felt sick with guilt at signing the death warrant for Esmeralda. He knew he had done his best in the very difficult circumstances but it didn't make him feel any better about having her dust on his hands. "I don't want to talk about it. This is the last time we ever mention it." Vlad let the steely authority in his voice ring out past caring whether or not he angered his father. Sometimes the tension between being Count Dracula's son and also being his ruler was difficult to negotiate. He understood that Dad was concerned about his welfare and that he wanted vengeance against those who hurt his son but Vlad had patiently listened to his father's lecturing for nearly an hour. His time was up.

A flicker of hurt and resentment passed over the Count's features at his son's command. For a moment the Count clearly struggled to hold back his next words but he succeeded and managed to bow his head respectfully instead. The Count sat down on the fallen tree trunk beside Vlad. "Are you still ... healed?" the Count asked awkwardly.

For what felt like the hundredth time since the ball, Vlad unzipped his leather jacket and lifted his T-shirt to show his unblemished torso. "Honestly Dad I am perfectly fine," he said reassuringly if slightly wearily.

The Count carefully laid a cold hand on his son's chest. "How is that possible Vladdy?" he asked with a disbelieving shake of his head. "I thought..." he lifted his hand away and stared into the overhead trees. "If you were ... Well I don't think I could.."

Vlad smiled cynically at his Dad. "Wait another six hundred years for a male heir?" he quipped sarcastically.

The Count glared at him fiercely. " No," he snapped, his face clearly showing his hurt at Vlad's comment. There was a long painful silence. "I'd follow you," he said with grim determination. "Into the dust. There would be no meaning anymore." The Count stared resolutely at the trees ahead as if he was struggling to maintain control over his emotions.

Feeling ashamed of his previous remark, Vlad laid a comforting hand on his Dad's shoulder. He wasn't sure that he was capable of speaking and in any case after his Dad's shocking revelation he doubted that he could find the appropriate words. He knew that his Dad loved him in his own strange vampiric version of love. The Count placed constant pressure on him to conform to his vampiric ideals, his cries of disappointment were all too frequent and he had on more than one occasion tried to usurp Vlad's power for his own. Yet his selfish, manipulative and violent father had also done everything in his power to protect him. Hiding in the shadows, risking the scorn and wrath of his contemporaries and even stepping up to sacrifice his unlife for Vlad. But it was terrifying to hear Dad say that unlife would hold no meaning for him if Vlad was dusted. His father hadn't meant to but it felt like he had just placed another weight onto Vlad's shoulders.

"Enough!" The Count abruptly shook off his son's hand and stood up once again so that he could pace up and down the forest floor. After a long uncomfortable silence, the Count spoke again. "We still need to talk about your breather associations."

Vlad sighed in relief. This at least was familiar territory. He spread his hands out. "What breather associations?" he asked with wide eyed innocence. "Dad I'm going to a breather university, I can't help but associate with them."

"Hmm." The Count gave Vlad a look of stern disapproval. "Just don't get distracted. You are meant to be finding the source, not gallivanting with sumptuous peasants. However attractive or juicy they may be." The Count raised his eyebrows knowingly. "Don't get too attached either."

Vlad groaned in displeasure. "You can't lecture me. Do the words 'Miss McCauley' ring a bell?"

"That was different," the Count said with an arrogant swish of his cloak.

"How?" Vlad demanded.

"Because it was me," the Count answered smugly. "No seriously Vladdy you should be concentrating on finding the source. I can't condemn you for having your fun with the peasants. The devil knows I certainly indulged in the pleasures of the flesh." The Count pointedly ignored Vlad's shudder at these words. "But you are the Chosen One. You have certain responsibilities that I never had the burden of when I was your age. You have to be responsible and put the needs of your people before your own."

Vlad scowled deeply at his father's words. He chose to change the subject. "Speaking of the source, has there been any progress in investigating Dhvani's death?"

The Count frowned moodily. "It's been linked to the Blood Brotherhood. No evidence yet to suggest that there has been a leak regarding the source." He fixed Vlad with a penetrating stare. "But if the Blood Brotherhood become aware that you are in Oxford then your entire quest will become untenable. Yet another reason for you to hurry up, find the cursed thing, whatever it is and destroy it."

Vlad rolled his eyes in annoyance. "Yeah, yeah I get it. In that case have you found a suitable replacement yet? I could really do with a vampire scholar to assist me in verifying the translations and the research trail."

"Dhvani was excellent, one of the best vampire scholars in the world. Replacing him is not easy." The Count finally stopped pacing and leant against a tree. "It doesn't help that some of the best candidates are understandably jittery about stepping into Bertrand and Dhvani's coffins." He smiled in satisfaction at how Vlad's eyes flashed black at the mention of du Fortunesa. It was very gratifying to observe that over a year later Vlad's sense of betrayal had not diminished. It gave him hope for the boy's future. "You know as much as I hated that snivelling, toadying, garlic breathing backstabber, I must admit Bertrand knew his vampire mythology. Such a pity you considered it necessary to remove him from office. With a garlic tipped argentilium stake." The Count smiled maliciously. "All the more pity that I wasn't there to witness it."

Vlad scowled fiercely at his Dad. "Don't," he said warningly through his fangs.

The Count gave him a look that could only be described as fondly amused. Vlad's guilt over murdering Bertrand was so typical of his son. "Still perhaps it was a tad short-sighted given our current dilemma?"

"After what he did?" Vlad stood up abruptly as anger coursed through him.

The Count shrugged his slim shoulders. "It was only Ingrid," he said dismissively.

Vlad's eyes blackened in fury at the memory. The dark look he cast at his Dad was so potent that the Count actually found himself stepping back. "No one hurts my sister."

The thick warm buttery goodness of the scone melted in her mouth, the sharp tang of the raspberries counterbalanced perfectly by the sweetness of the white chocolate. Charlie savoured every mouthful of the delicious raspberry and white chocolate scones that her best friend had baked. Scarlett very rarely baked only when she was in an exceptionally good mood. Charlie sipped her tea demurely before giving into her curiosity. "OK, spill!" she urged.

Scarlett set her mug down and gave Charlie a stern look. "You and Robin are in so much trouble!" The effect was somewhat ruined by her beatific smile.

Charlie attempts to give her a look of complete innocence. "No idea...?" She raised her eyebrows inquiringly.

Scarlett nodded firmly. "Vlad's a vampire. Ugh!" She picked up her mug again. "I can't believe I said that! Vampires exist! No really they exist."

"Yeah." Charlie smiled apologetically. "I should have mentioned that before now. But they are usually very rare. Before Vlad I had only ever seen about two in my whole life."

"Yeah, anything else I should know about?" Scarlett tried again to glare at her best friend but it was clear that she wasn't truly angry.

Charlie shook her head. "Seriously Scarlett if I started listing every freaky thing I've ever seen, we could be here for hours." Charlie reached for another delicious scone. "Besides you know I would never let you near someone who was dangerous. Vlad doesn't seem like a typical vampire. I've seen his aura, I know he doesn't live on human blood. Believe me that is unusual for a vampire." She held up her hands as if to fend off any further questions. "That's all I'm saying. You know I shouldn't tell you what I see in people's auras. I just wanted to let you know that if I thought for a second that he would bite you I wouldn't have kept his secret."

"I know." Scarlett gave Charlie's hand a sympathetic squeeze. "I'm sure Robin had his role to play in the secret-keeping. It's not a nice position to be in – between your boyfriend and best friend." She began giggling suddenly. "At least I know why you have been pushing so much garlic food on me recently!"

Charlie joined in with her laughter. "Just a friendly hint to Vlad." She took another bite of her scone. "One day, you have to give me the recipe for these! They are amazing. So how did you find out? Did Vlad finally come clean? Scarlett?" The look on her friend's face was alarming. It was more than Scarlett appearing spooked, she seemed genuinely frightened. "OK, what happened?"

Scarlett took a deep gulp of her tea as if to steady her nerves. "You know my dreams," she began cautiously.

Charlie nodded. She was aware that Scarlett experienced flashes of the future in her dreams. It wasn't a gift that had been bestowed on Charlie but it wasn't unheard of.

"Well, I was having a nightmare. That nightmare. You know the one with the red landscape and the light. Vlad was in it; he was the enemy. I thought that I had been able to change the nightmare before I woke up. One minute I was on fire, the next Vlad was grabbing my hand and then suddenly I was in a forest with Vlad dressed as a vampire. Oh Charlie!" Scarlett put her head into her hands. "This is going to sound so crazy. The dream wasn't just in my head. It was real. Vlad was real. Or at least he had the same dream. I don't know anymore."

Charlie exhaled slowly. "Whoa."

Scarlett nervously ran her fingers through her hair. "That's not all. He had a brooch in the dream, the Dracula coat of arms, I woke up with it in my hand." She gave Charlie a pleading look. "Have you ever heard of this?"

Charlie struggled to contain her reaction. Scarlett was freaked out enough as it was without Charlie gasping and declaring her amazement. Taking objects from dreams and transferring them into reality would require both a parallel consciousness and enormous power. It stirred some vague memories of old stories her Nana used to tell her. "I'm not sure, but I can check with my Nana. She would probably know." She reached over the table to hug Scarlett affectionately. "Don't worry. Maybe Vlad can explain it. It could be some sort of vampire thing. Nothing to do with you. "

"Yeah." Scarlett didn't sound convinced even as she returned the hug.

Chapter 24 teaser

'I could have told you that a year ago.'