I'd like to say a special thank you to Alucard Gnuoy who very kindly translated the prophecy into Latin for me – a considerable improvement on my dismal efforts. Thanks very much!

Bit action packed this chapter. In advance, sub fusc is the traditional academic attire worn by Oxbridge students. A quick Google search should provide you with an image of the uniform. Needless to say I have applied some artistic licence. If you ever have any questions about DiF, please don't hesitate to ask or PM me. I don't bite – I leave that sort of behaviour to my characters...

Check out HyaHya's story What Lives Forever... : )

Thank you as always for the reviews. It makes me so happy and excited when you tell me you can't wait for the next chapter. Always drives me on!

Hope you enjoy! xo

Chapter 35

Winterville was one of the few remaining Oxford colleges which insisted on the traditional attire of sub fusc when attending tutorials. The ongoing battle over sub fusc in the university – a symbol of Oxford's elitism versus a charming tradition – barely touched the inside walls of one of its oldest and most traditional colleges. Personally, Scarlett loved the uniform especially the academic gowns. After all, who didn't appreciate the opportunity to swan around in huge black robes and pretend to be Batman or a student at Hogwarts? The son and heir to Count Dracula apparently.

Vlad was looking down at his clothing with a scowl. "Is this really necessary?"

Scarlett nodded. "Absolutely," she said in a firm voice that warned against any further argument. Silently, she thanked the creators of sub fusc a million times. The sight of Vlad in a suit and academic gown was one memory that she would cherish – he looked devastatingly gorgeous.

Beside her, Robin tugged half-heartedly at his unravelling bowtie. "Yeah, it's college rules. Teverson is super strict about it too, remember that time my socks were blue?" He and Scarlett shared a grimace.

Scarlett tutted at the mangled mess Robin was making of his bowtie. "Come here," she ordered as she began untying and retying the cream material. "Here you go," she smiled in satisfaction as she produced a tidy bow. "Not as good as Charlie's, but it will have to do."

Vlad gave Robin a jealous glower; sometimes he disliked the closeness of his best friend's relationship with Scarlett. "How come your robes are different?" he complained gesturing at Scarlett's robes which were lined with red satin in vivid contrast to his own in plain black.

Scarlett glanced down self-consciously. "This is a scholar's gown," she answered with a faint blush colouring her cheeks. "It just means I did well in my first year exams."

"In other words, she's a geek," Robin whispered with deliberate loudness into Vlad's ear.

Scarlett gave Robin a look of mock annoyance. "Whatever, rugby boy," she shot back.

"Oi! That was too far, you crossed a line," Robin clutched his chest melodramatically. "At least ..." He put on a girlishly high voice, "Oh my gosh, twelfth century Latin! My favourite!"

Scarlett swatted his arm. "You're such a prat," she said affectionately before turning back to Vlad with an anxious frown. "Are you sure about this? I don't want you to end up as dust."

Vlad pulled his hooded cape around him and smirked confidently. "Don't worry."

"Yeah, Vlad's dad has done this loads of times," Robin reassured her.

Scarlett's doubts about the plan were written all over her face.

Robin listed the following points on his fingers, "The cape is made of UV resistant material, he's wearing factor 100 sun cream and we're taking the indoors route." He gave Scarlett a pat on the shoulder. "This might be the only way we can get hold of Teverson. She won't be expecting Vlad at a morning tutorial and we really need to find out how far she has gotten with the research."

Scarlett glanced uncertainly between the two boys before her gaze settled on Vlad. "You're only going to hypnotise her?" The concern in her voice was now for Professor Teverson.

Vlad nodded. "I won't hurt her," he promised. "We need to know what she is doing with the research. I have a feeling that she knows much more than she is letting on."

It was the sort of crisp autumn morning that Professor Teverson loved. A slight overnight frost had left its silvery traces upon the fallen leaves and the coldness of the morning air had a certain bracing quality. Now more than ever she appreciated the harsh glare of the morning sunlight.

After this morning's tutorial, she would be able to spend the rest of the day conducting and writing up her research. A list of further possible locations for the source lay in the drawer of her desk and she was keen to get started. Like most academics, Professor Teverson preferred to immerse herself in research rather than teach undergraduates. However, she was very fond of her second year historians, there were some exceptionally bright students in that year group. Unlike the finalists, but then again Nigel had selected that year. Later, she was meeting with Father James for some afternoon tea and what would hopefully be a reassuring chat.

She glanced up at the sound of chatter and footsteps outside the seminar room, a smile of genuine delight spread across her face as Robin Branagh stepped into the sunlit room with his usual enthusiastic grin. Robin was one of her most intelligent students, a pleasure to tutor. A soft sigh of relief escaped her lips as he happily sat down in his usual seat by the sunlit window; the boy had not yet been corrupted. Her smile froze as a caped figure followed Robin into the seminar room. With a snap of his fingers, the curtains drew across the windows blocking the sunlight and plunging the room into semi-darkness. Throwing back his hood, Vladimir Dracula gave her a bloodthirsty smile, his voice mockingly polite. "Good morning Professor Teverson."

Head throbbing, Professor Teverson reached for her cup of coffee. Much to her disconcertment the black liquid was tepid at best. How strange, she had only boiled the kettle five minutes ago. She found herself rubbing her eyes with a tired sigh, why did she feel so sleepy all of a sudden?

"Are you ok Professor?"

Professor Teverson glanced up at the owner of the anxious voice. Scarlett Collins was watching her with a worried expression. "Yes, perfectly so," Professor Teverson briskly opened her folder. The papers were organised slightly different from how she had ordered them this morning. She inhaled sharply and glanced at the clock. The hour and a half tutorial was almost over and she had nothing but very vague, almost dreamlike memories of discussing the 1381 Peasants' Revolt.

Sudden sleepiness. Unexplained loss of time. Disorganised papers. Professor Teverson abruptly stood up, the chair legs screeching against the polished wooden floor. Her stomach churned with fear as she looked at the seemingly innocent faces of her students. The harsh white light of the morning sun shone in through the open windows and Professor Teverson shivered in terror. Nowhere was safe.

Scarlett and Robin watched as Professor Teverson strode across the fountain quad towards her office. Scarlett shook her head, her misgivings about the entire situation growing more by the second. "I don't know Robin; I think she picked up that something was wrong." She sighed heavily, "All of this sneaking about, it feels wrong."

Robin gave her a sharp look. "If she has doubts then we keep lying. You heard Vlad; if you lie with enough confidence then usually people will accept it as the truth."

"Hmm." Scarlett's mouth twisted with disapproval. The look in Professor Teverson's eyes... it was as if she was scared. Really scared. Terrified in fact. Confusion and annoyance, Scarlett would have understood those reactions but terror? Why would Professor Teverson be terrified?

"Scarlett!"

Hearing her name shouted across the quad made Scarlett turn. Tamara was half walking, half jogging along the cloisters. Scarlett swivelled around on her heels before remembering with a muffled curse that she needed to head in Tamara's direction. Well, she would only look like an idiot if she turned around now. Resolutely, Scarlett lifted her chin and marched in the opposite direction of where she needed to go.

A bemused Robin tagged along after her, tugging at the trailing sleeve of her robes. "Er Scarlett mate, your room is in that direction."

"Shut up," Scarlett hissed out of the corner of her mouth.

Tamara reached them with ease, flicking out her long dark hair before tying it up in sleek ponytail, Dressed in her netball uniform, she looked every inch the healthy wholesome college girl. Scarlett noted with resentment that her athletic friend wasn't even out of breath. In comparison to Tamara's sporty slimness, Scarlett felt like a black and red elephant in her academic gown.

Robin, sensing that his presence was not required, smiled nervously at both girls. "Just off to meet someone. Alright? Great. Bye." He made a hasty departure.

Scarlett tightened her grip on her books and deliberately looked away from Tamara, focusing her angry glare on the partially dismantled water fountain. "What do you want?" she demanded, not caring if she sounded rude. It still hurt what Tamara had said on Friday night. All that stuff about Scarlett being frigid and cold, her friend really knew how to hit her weak spots.

Tamara fiddled with her hair, the gesture betraying her nervousness. "I'm sorry ok?" Her words came out sounding slightly defensive.

Scarlett gave her a look of contempt. "Yes, you sound it."

Tamara shrugged awkwardly. "Look, can't we just forget it? I'm really sorry, just it's been a hard term and I was drunk." She almost sounded sulky. "Anyway you threw wine over me so ..."

Scarlett's eyes narrowed. "So...?" she asked in a dangerous voice.

Tamara shrugged her shoulders dismissively, not bothering to finish her sentence.

"Just forget it," Scarlett snapped crossly. She stormed off towards her room not caring anymore about what any of the on-lookers thought. If anything, her bad temper just increased as she stamped up the worn stone steps to her room. Who did Tamara think she was? Did she think Scarlett was some sort of idiot? That she would take whatever Tamara threw at her? That she was some sort of emotional punch bag? As for Robin, how dare he walk off like that? How could he so stupid? Couldn't he see that she wanted nothing to do with Tamara? No, it was Vlad who was stupid. Putting it all about the college and then expecting her to take the blame from his rejects. By the time Scarlett wrenched open her door, she was simmering with rage. Slamming the door closed behind her, she opened her mouth to blast both boys with a scolding that they would never forget.

The sight of Vlad, still fully dressed in sub fusc and lounging on her bed knocked all the breath out of her body. Dimly, she noted that Robin was nowhere to be seen, clever boy, he knew she was furious. Vlad was flicking through a book, his pale fingers fanning out elegantly against the colourful cover. Oh but he was insanely gorgeous. She really couldn't blame those other girls ...

Vlad peeked over the book's pages, "I don't think that the sub fusc was actually necessary." His voice was silken and seductive. His gaze swept over her body in an almost predatory manner as he tossed the book aside. The smile playing upon his full lips was deliciously sexy.

Slightly dazed, Scarlett took a moment to catch up with him. "Oh it was," she replied breathlessly before blushing wildly at how adamant she sounded.

Vlad's laugh was positively wicked. "It's not quite evening dress but I still think you owe me." He snapped his fingers and Scarlett's pinned up hair fell around her. She watched as Vlad took a deep breath of the air, his eyes darkening suddenly. He shifted over slightly on the bed and patted the spot beside him. "Come here," he commanded softly.

No. At least that was what Scarlett meant to say. Because just moments ago she was furious with him and they had work to do and anyway strictly speaking he should be asleep right now and... seriously how was she expected to resist someone so sinful?

As she watched the two men flick through the folders on the desk, the magnitude of what she had just done began to slowly dawn upon Professor Teverson. She had just handed over her entire research to the Slayers Guild. If she was honest, she hadn't actually thought about what she was doing as she crammed folders into her bag and drove at what must have been an illegal speed to the Oxford headquarters. The terror of realising that Dracula had been able to access her during the daylight hours, that her students had been corrupted into doing the evil creature's bidding and that she was much more vulnerable than she had ever conceived, even in her most paranoid moments, had simply taken over. Even now, her hands were shaking as she fumbled around in her handbag for a clean tissue.

"And this is everything?"

Professor Teverson found it difficult to meet the eyes of the older slayer. There was something cold and dead about his gaze. Every time he spoke to her or found him watching her, the sense of unease increased. Perhaps she was being unkind, after all these were the men who placed their lives in mortal danger on a daily basis to defend humanity against the vampire threat. It was only inevitable that the tainted nature of their work would bring out the darker aspects of their personalities.

Professor Teverson glanced at the younger slayer. He flashed her a reassuring smile. Yes, she liked the younger slayer, his brown eyes were warm and kind. She directed her answer to him instead. "Yes, everything." She glanced nervously at the elegant gold watch on her wrist. "I have an afternoon appointment." The prospect of meeting Father James and revealing what she had just done filled her with dread. The priest would be furiously disappointed by her act of betrayal. She really wasn't certain how she was going to handle this.

The younger man nodded understandingly and Professor Teverson half smiled at him as she rose to her feet. A meaty hand clenched around her wrist, slamming her hand painfully against the hard metal table. The older slayer had also risen to his feet, he towered menacingly over her as he forced her back into her seat. "Oh no Professor," he emphasised her academic title with disgust, "You're not going anywhere."

The silky material shimmered in the sunlight as Robin carefully wrapped it around Charlie's neck before tying a rather large unsightly knot. Charlie leant over his arms to take another bite out of her pizza slice. "It's still daylight," she said with her mouth half full.

Robin affectionately nuzzled her scarf covered neck before reaching for a pizza slice of his own. "I just want you to be safe."

Charlie smiled down at him. Sitting on the steps to her lab, eating garlicky pizza with her slayer boyfriend in the sun, she couldn't possibly feel any safer. "I don't need argentilium sprays and scarves," she reminded him gently, "I am a medium, I can protect myself."

Robin tugged on the scarf to bring her face down to meet his. "Like I said, I just want you to be safe," he brushed his lips against hers in a tender kiss.

Scarlett lightly trailed her fingers down Vlad's bare chest until she reached the buckle of his belt. Vlad must have sensed her sudden hesitation because he caught her hand and entwined his fingers with hers. "Aha," his voice was stern between kisses, "What makes you think that I'm that sort of vampire?" Scarlett couldn't help giggling and Vlad pulled back to gave her a wounded look. "Actually, I am quite shy..." he began with mock indignation but he failed to keep a straight face.

Scarlett sighed softly as Vlad pulled her closer for a cuddle. It felt strange to be cuddled and hugged after all these years. Usually, Scarlett didn't like people to get too close – emotionally and physically. Physical contact always seemed rather dangerous, it left you vulnerable. It didn't feel like that with Vlad. She felt safe and protected in his arms, she didn't feel threatened by him, the fact that he was physically stronger than her wasn't scary. All the more strange when you put a label like 'vampire' on him.

"So..." Vlad snuck his arm over her waist and retrieved the book that he had discarded earlier, "what is an Oxford historian doing reading Horrible Histories? Hmm - Vile Victorians? I thought these were for kids?"

Scarlett tried to snatch the book out of his hand but he was too quick for her. "Some of the best things are created with children in mind." Sliding her body up against his, she pressed a light kiss against his collarbone. Distracted, Vlad's grip on the book loosened enough for her to quickly snatch it from his hands. "Besides, I love the Horrible Histories books. Always have."

Vlad pulled her closer again. "Hmm, confession time, I never really liked History. It always seemed kind of boring, listing lots of dates, royal lineages – and was just Dad!" He grinned at her look of outrage – how could anyone think History was boring? "But sometimes Bert-" Abruptly, Vlad fell silent, changing almost instantly from happy and relaxed to moody and scowling.

It was on the tip of Scarlett's tongue to ask him about this Bertrand but she resisted. Asking Vlad about something he had clearly indicated his unwillingness to talk about would only make him feel worse. "I think our study break is over," she said gently. She was confident that Vlad would start to feel better once they got some positive results from the research.

Vlad smiled wistfully. "Yeah, I guess so." He reached up to entangle his fingers in her hair, skimming his mouth over her throat before claiming her lips once again. "But a few more minutes won't hurt."

The half-empty china cup rattled as Father James pushed it away. He glanced at the darkening sky outside the cosy cafe. Professor Teverson was nearly two hours late, most unusual for a woman who was fastidious about time keeping. As a regular patron of the cafe, Father James had been more than content to have a pot of tea, review his work and wait for her. However, it was nearly five o clock and he needed to return to the Church in order to prepare for evening mass.

He frowned as he reconsidered the abrupt, anxious tone of the email that she had sent him late last night. The academic had been acting out of character recently, he had to admit he was becoming deeply concerned about her. The task that she had been set was a stressful one and he had been rather zealous about the terms and conditions especially when she had begun to question the Order. With a weary sigh, he picked up his books and made his way out of the cafe. The last thing he needed right now was an overwrought academic having a meltdown. He would call on her tomorrow morning at Winterville College, check that everything was how it should be.

"I've tried to apologise!" Tamara hated the whiny edge in her voice. She didn't do emotional displays, she always kept it cool, men found emotion off putting, it was far better to remain aloof and distant.

Disdain flickered over his handsome face. "Then you must keep trying." His voice was cool and disinterested, exactly how she had intended to sound.

She watched him move around her room, he was like a caged animal, all grace, muscle and frustration. She couldn't help the way her eyes savoured every inch of him, the broadness of his shoulders, the gold signet ring he wore on his right hand, the way his dark wavy hair curled against his neck. He was so hot, so much fitter than that pathetic Vlad Count, with this man on her arm she, not Scarlett, would once again be the object of their friends' admiration and envy.

She closed her eyes briefly and counted to ten. Upon opening them, she found him watching her with a condensing smirk. "How?" She was careful to modulate her voice so that it was softer than before. No more whinging, she warned herself.

He leant against her wardrobe, folding his muscular arms around his chest. "Write to her. I'll even tell you what to say. I can be very persuasive." There was a sinister edge to his words that made Tamara shiver with delight.

Tamara made sure that her skirt rode up high on her thighs as she sat down at her desk and crossed her legs seductively. "What am I? Some sort of secretary?" she pouted flirtatiously.

He moved impossibly fast across the room, his arms on either side of her, leaning over her, so close that Tamara could feel the chill coming off his body yet not close enough, not touching. "You are whatever I tell you to be."

Chapter 36 teaser

'Tell me, woman where are the cupcakes?'