Apologies for the long gap, Internet situation was beyond a joke! However super fast broadband has been returned to me (yay!) and I will resume posting on Saturdays and Tuesdays as usual.

I have been desperately missing your encouraging reviews but I've been plotting away at my storylines. Just a heads up I may have to change the rating to M soon due to some of the storylines coming up - (Blame Vlad) but in the meantime I suppose this chapter should come with a warning about fluffy friskiness (again blame Vlad). Hope you enjoy it! xo

Chapter 26

Sunlight poured into the room through the parting in the curtains. Still bathing in the afterglow of a deep sleep, Tamara lazily stretched out her limbs. Every muscle in her body felt utterly relaxed apart from a soreness above her right breast that was almost pleasurable. Her memories from last night felt somewhat hazy and incomplete. She could only remember bit and pieces from the moment her mysterious stranger had approached her at the bar. Her lips curled into a satisfied smile as she recalled his piercing blue eyes. It wasn't very often that Tamara went to bed with a stranger and if she was honest she couldn't entirely remember whether anything had actually happened last night. She could recall the coldness of his touch, his almost mocking smile, the glint of a silver blade... She pressed her nose against the cool surface of her pillow and breathed in deeply the rich scent that lingered upon the cloth. Whatever had happened last night didn't matter. It just didn't matter.

"I can help you destroy her." With reverence her fingers caressed the healing gash below her collar bone. Who knew that vengeance had the face of an angel?


The sound of gentle knocking against the lid of his coffin disturbed Vlad from his uneasy slumber. It felt like he had been asleep for barely five minutes. Trying to control the urge to snarl, Vlad clicked his fingers to open the coffin. He now understood his Dad's irritability at being disturbed during the day.

Roberts peered anxiously into his coffin. "Sorry Master Vlad," he said timidly, "But you have a visitor."

His butler looked so apologetic that Vlad almost felt bad for scowling. For a second he wondered why Dmitri wasn't dealing with the visitor. Then he remembered that his protector was probably nursing the hangover from hell. Damn Robin and his soy blood cocktails.

"She was most insistent," Roberts continued apologetically.

Vlad sat upright unnaturally fast as he caught the trace of a familiar scent. Scarlett.


The woman in the painting had a strange unearthly beauty, the milky white of her skin contrasting perfectly with the lustrious blackness of her hair and almost violet-blue of her eyes. Her full red lips were curved just slightly at the edges in a smile that was both malevolent and sensual. Her dress cascaded in waves of sparkling blackness around her, a crown glittered upon her head and in her left hand she held a sceptre decorated with skulls. The woman looked strangely familiar; the arrogant tilt of her head, the strange allure of her smile, her perfectly cut cheekbones all tugged at Scarlett's memory. The painting, even in its half finished state, was both foreboding and spectacular.

Gradually becoming aware of Vlad's presence in the room, Scarlett stepped back from admiring the portrait. "Is she your queen?" Scarlett turned to face Vlad. He hadn't bothered to announce his arrival and he moved with such silence that it was difficult to tell how long he had been standing there. Her breath caught in her throat as her gaze swept over him. He was leaning against the dark wooden panelling of the wall. Dressed in dark blue tracksuit bottoms and a burgundy hoodie, with his hair messed up he looked like he had just tumbled out of bed. Coffin, she corrected herself. He looked unexpectedly boyish, at least a few years younger than the nineteen year old he was supposed to be.

Vlad studied the portrait for a few seconds before answering. "She would like to think so." His words were cutting, the youthful vulnerability of his face fading away to be replaced by a stern hardness. "My sister, Ingrid. Countess Dracula."

The hurt and suspicion from his initial words disappeared at this explanation. Turning back to the portrait, Scarlett was struck by the family resemblance. Aside from the perfect bone structure and dramatic colouring, the Draculas appeared to share a particular kind of poise and charisma. Looking at Ingrid Dracula's beauty, Scarlett could feel the old doubts creeping back into her mind. With great effort, she tried to push them away. She forced herself to face Vlad and smile brightly. "I brought you brownies." She gestured at the box on the polished side table.

Vlad's gaze didn't even flicker in the direction of the box. "Why you are here?" His voice was stony.

Scarlett could feel her smile falter. "Why are you being like this?" she asked softly. She had felt out of her depth from the second she had opened the gate to this magnificent mansion. Now faced with an obviously angry Vlad, she was resisting the temptation to run back to her room and hide under the duvet until she could face the world again.

Vlad's movements were that of a predator – slow, deliberate and effortlessly elegant as he strolled around the perimeter of the room in a deliberate effort to remain as far away from her as purpose. "Like what?" His smile was artificially flippant. "Cold? Angry? Hurtful?" He stopped at the other side of the room and glared at her. "Sounds vaguely familiar."

Scarlett sighed in exasperation. So he was trying to get back at her. Which was fair enough. Except that she had come here to apologise to him. "The brownies were intended as an apology." She kept her own voice cool and calm. Screw him if he thought she was going to act like some hysterical love struck female and beg him for his forgiveness.

Vlad raised his eyebrows at the coldness of her reply. "I'd prefer an explanation." His eyes glittered red for just a second.

Scarlett wondered whether that was an unintentional slip or a calculated reminder of his vampire powers. "So would I." She practically ground out the words as she tried to control her own temper. They glared at each other for several long minutes neither of them willing to break their staring match or the silence that hung between them laden with unspoken accusations. With each passing second, Scarlett found herself wanting more and more to run across the room, to throw herself against Vlad, to show him how furious she was by kissing him viciously hard, to feel his reassuring hardness against her... She took a deep breath in an attempt to calm herself down. Across the room she watched Vlad's chest rising and falling as he took an unnecessary breath at almost the same time. Without meaning to, her lips curved into a smile.

Vlad smiled back. With a frustrated groan, he ran his hand through his hair, making it even messier. "This is ridiculous!" he exclaimed. In annoyance he turned to the large cabinet beside him, forcefully yanking out the drawer before retrieving a small test tube half full of a dark blue liquid. "This," he raised the glass container in the air so that she could see it more clearly, "is a truth serum. One mouthful means that for the next thirty minutes you are unable to tell a direct lie." He caught the questioning way that she raised her eyebrows. "You have entered my property. As a security measure Dmitri insists that every breather who comes to this house is tested with the truth serum to ensure that they are not secretly working for my enemies."

Outraged, Scarlett marched towards him. "You lie to me for months and now you want me to take-" The words died on her lips as Vlad raised the test tube to his mouth and carefully took a sip. A single droplet of the vivid blue spilt onto the fullness of his lower lip, Vlad's tongue flicked out to lick it up. Scarlett stared at his mouth mesmerised by this tiny sexy movement. She had experienced just a taster of what his very skilled tongue was capable of. Just the memory was enough to make her knees feel weak. Muffling a swear word, she forced her eyes away from Vlad's mouth. Rage and suspicion, she could deal with, they were familiar emotions but this desire, the way she ached for Vlad, that was entirely new and if she was honest it scared the hell out of her.

Mistaking her watchful stillness for fear, Vlad wore a look of concern as he handed over the test tube. "It won't hurt you," he said reassuringly.

Scarlett took the test tube from him, her fingers brushing against his, the coolness of his touch sending a jolt of electricity through her. Taking a shaky breath, she sipped the liquid contents. Surprisingly it tasted as clear and fresh as water. She handed the empty test tube back to Vlad. "So, what now?" She automatically resumed her confrontational stance finding it easier to slip back into her old habit of building up an emotional wall rather than letting someone get close.

"If you don't tell me what I've done wrong, I can't fix it. So tell me." Vlad's voice was calm and rational but his eyes were suddenly full of pleading.

Scarlett tried to harden her heart against him. When Vlad looked soft and vulnerable she felt incapable of refusing him anything. "How do I know that it works?" she asked, referring to the truth serum.

Vlad bit his lip lightly in hesitation before he spoke. "Did you hurt yourself?" he asked quietly. Yesterday he had smelt the trace of fresh blood on her. He knew the answer already.

Scarlett bristled at his question, a denial swiftly rose to her lips but she found herself incapable of actually speaking. It didn't hurt, it was just as if her tongue and lips had decided they were no longer obeying any commands from her brain. She nodded crossly, feeling almost close to tears. He knew that she hated talking about this. She cast him a black look of resentment.

Vlad almost winced at the hurt expression on Scarlett's face. "Sorry," he said softly, "But you wanted proof that it worked." He forced himself to look away from her for a few seconds focusing his attention instead on the patterns carved into the ceiling. If he gazed for a moment longer on the way she pouted, then he would end up pinning her against the wall and kissing her into oblivion.

Knowing that she could ask him and that he would have to tell her the truth made her want to run away even more. All of Charlie's protestations and reassurances that Vlad was crazy about her suddenly seemed hollow. Scarlett felt nauseous with anxiety, her heart was racing and she realised from the worry on Vlad's face that he was aware of the exact timing of every thud. Strangely this thought only served to inflame her temper. Vlad had an unfair advantage when he could so easily observe his effect on her. She forced herself to meet his gaze as she spoke. "If I told you that I wouldn't help you find the source, what would you do?"

The look of surprise on Vlad's face was clear. He frowned deeply as if he was giving her question serious consideration. "I don't know," he said plainly. His voice was unusually grave. "It would place me in a very difficult situation. I believe that Professor Teverson is holding back on me. The rest of the scholars are adequate but none of them are as good as you. I haven't managed to find a replacement for my former vampire historian. I believe that the slayers are already conducting their own research. It may be only a matter of time before they trace the trail to Oxford." As his eyes burned into hers, it slowly dawned on Scarlett that they were circling each other in the same manner that two opponents would slowly dance around each other before making the initial strike. "I think I know what you are worried about. You are scared of the myths coming true, of the vengeance and cruelty that the vampire race could inflict on your own kind. But I want to lead the vampires into a new era of peace. I won't allow them to hurt breathers or anyone else. If the slayers get their hands on the source then they will kill indiscriminately."

A horrible feeling of shame burned inside Scarlett as she realised that she hadn't really considered the consequences of helping a vampire find the source but Vlad's imploring eyes forced her to refocus on the immediate situation. She would chastise herself later for being so self-centred. She struggled to find the right words to ask him outright whether he was pretending to care for her. "Is the source the reason why... You don't have to be with me to ... Why? Just why all of this?"

Despite her incoherence, Vlad seemed to understand what she was hinting at because his expression was suddenly livid with rage. Lightning and thunder crackled overhead, somehow he seemed taller, larger, more physically intimidating as he advanced towards her. "You think I would fake feelings for you?" His voice was inhumanly harsh and fangs gleamed at the corners of his mouth. Then just as swiftly, Vlad seemed to retreat into himself, his shoulders sagging as if he had been defeated. Hurt was written all over his face when he spoke. "You don't think much of me." He broke eye contact with her as if it was grieving him too much to look at her.

Scarlett recoiled as he threw her own words back at her. "No, Vlad I don't think much of me," she stumbled over her words in her haste to explain to him. "It's the only thing that makes sense. I can't understand why you would care about me." She cringed in horror as she blurted out the truth. Damn that bloody serum.

At least her words meant that Vlad raised his head to look at her again. They had stopped moving now, both frozen to the spot as they warily watched each other.


Robin viciously stabbed a stray pea on his dinner plate. His mum had promised that she was coming down alone to visit him so it had been an unpleasant shock when she had turned up this morning with Dad in tow. He had been sulking ever since. She knew they didn't get on but she kept forcing them on each other anyway. As if there was ever going to be a happy reconciliation between them.

"Captain of the rugby team eh?" Mr Branagh said with anxious joviality. He peered over his roast dinner at his youngest son. "Just the sort of healthy activity that a young man should be engaging in!"

Robin lifted his gaze from his plate just for a second to glare at his Dad. "Whatever," he said gruffly before spearing a roast potato with such violence that Mr Branagh glanced at his wife in alarm.


Vlad studied Scarlett intently as he wondered what to do next. A part of him wanted to roar with fury at her, smash everything in the room, even sink his fangs into her throat to show her just how evil he could be. Another part of him was hurting badly, it pleaded with him to stumble back into his coffin and curl up in a little ball. How could she think so little of him? How could she believe that his feelings for her were pretence? The thought of what he had said on that roof-top in Canary Wharf now made him cringe with horror. For garlic's sake he had actually asked her if she was going to leave him! How soppy and idiotic could he get? You would have thought that he had learnt from the mistakes he made with Erin. Don't let them get close. Don't let them see that you are vulnerable. Don't ever think that you can win the girl by being sweet and caring. Girls don't fall for "nice".

But her words touched a chord deep inside him. They were incredibly uncomfortable to hear. It was shocking to realise just how little Scarlett thought of herself particularly when he thought so much. Yet he empathised with her, he understood because after all he felt exactly the same way. He could understand why vampires desired him, he was the Chosen One and power was an aphrodisiac. He could understand why breathers lusted after him, somewhere deep down inside of them they were drawn to his darkness. What he couldn't understand why any of them would care for him. He couldn't understand why Scarlett cared for him but from the second she had gently pressed her lips against his fangs he had been certain that she did.

He held a tentative hand out to her. "It seems that we both don't think much of ourselves." If he had been human he would been holding his breath as he waited for her response. When she cautiously placed her hand in his, he felt a sharp stab of relief in his heart. Gently, he tugged her closer to him so that their bodies were almost touching. With his free hand, he tilted her face so that she was gazing into his eyes. "I admit that I need your help to find the source but that has nothing to do with how I feel about you."

Scarlett nodded slowly, her cheeks a blazing redness against the unusual paleness of her skin. "I know, I'm an idiot," she tried to laugh lightly but the tears glistening in her eyes betrayed her inner turmoil. She raised her hand to swipe roughly at a tear which had dared to slip down her cheek.

Vlad caught her hand within his. Bending his head slightly, he pressed his lips against the teardrop on her cheek, the saltiness tasting bittersweet. "I'm not like my father. I'm not very good with poetry or romantic declarations." He released her hands as he closed the miniscule gap between their bodies savouring the way in which the heat of her body blazed through his clothing. "But I do care about you," he said quietly. He skimmed his hands over her arms, her shoulders, over her neck before gliding his fingers into her hair. Carefully he began to unpin her hair from its restrictive bun, running his fingers through the silken strands, admiring how the light reflected off the burnished gold. For weeks now, he had longed to do this, to wrap his fingers in her hair and breathe in her intoxicating scent. He let one hand trail down the length of her hair before pressing it against the small of her back to shift her body more tightly against his. "At the very least, you can't question how much I want you," he said with a wicked grin as he watched her blush deepen.

Scarlett attempted a cynical laugh. "Whatever, you're just a player." The breathlessness of her voice betrayed the effect that he was having on her. She watched in fascination as Vlad's eyes darkened in lust when she deliberately shifted against the hardness of his body.

Vlad had to bite back a moan of pleasure at her movements. His fingers gently caressed the nape of her neck as he bent his head to kiss her. "You are so beautiful," he whispered before capturing her mouth with his. He revelled in her passionate response to him, the way in which she eagerly opened her mouth to his tongue further inflaming his desire. In Satan's name, the way she tasted was unbelievable.

With a swift movement, he changed their location from standing in the middle of the room to sitting on the sofa. He smiled in amusement at Scarlett's disorientation as he lifted her into his lap. "One of the advantages of vampire speed," he whispered against her lips before pulling back to trail soft lingering kisses on her chin and jaw.

"Really? I just thought your knees were going weak," Scarlett replied cheekily. She wriggled against him as he softly chuckled against her jaw line causing ripples of cool air to shimmer across her skin.

Vlad growled in frustrated arousal at her actions and tightened his grip around her waist to hold her more securely against him. For a second, panic flashed through him that his reaction may frightened her but then she arched back her head to give him better access to her throat her fingers slipping through his hair in an effort to press his mouth closer. Unhurriedly he began his descent, running his tongue along the gentle curve of her jaw, teasing her with soft lingering kisses on the sensitive skin beneath her ear before nuzzling softly at her earlobe. He trailed a finger down the line of her throat and across her collar bone, his touch ghost-like in its gentleness. Inhaling deeply, he immersed himself in her scent appreciating the subtle trace of her morning perfume upon her skin and the hint of cocoa in the lotion that she must use. With every touch of his lips against her throat, he could feel the ebb and flow of her blood, the sensation washing over him as if the blood was gushing through his own arteries. It stirred memories of a time when he had his own heartbeat. "Vlad..." He smiled in delight at the sound of his name on her lips. He pulled back so that he could return to kissing her mouth. A shudder ran through him at the vivid red smears across the creamy skin of her throat. For a brief horrific moment, the lipstick stains looked suspiciously like blood. Suddenly a feeling of nausea washed over Vlad and he found himself struggling to breathe in air he didn't really need.

Scarlett stroked his cheek gently. "Vlad?" She followed his gaze to the vivid red marks on her throat. "Oh," her voice was soft with understanding. "It's only lipstick."

"I know!" Vlad felt bad for snapping at her as soon as the words left his mouth. He trailed his hand down the length of her throat, watching intently as the redness smeared into shades of crimson instead of rust. "I just..." his voice trailed off.

Scarlett cupped his chin, forcing him to raise his eyes from her throat. Her smile managed to be both teasing and full of sensual promise. "I guess I had better find kiss proof lipstick."

Chapter 28 teaser

'He can kill without biting. I should know.'