A special thanks to Danielle, BeautifulCataleya, invisible reader, and MissVD for your reviews of the last chapter. If I could give you all hugs or cookies, I totally would!

Please forgive any mistakes, errors, or accidental redundancies and inevitable word-repetitions you may find in this chapter. I tried to catch them all, but I probably missed some. And, as always, enjoy!

Chapter 13: Fire

Dracula was standing over Afina, his ankles still chained with the sword she had had had from earlier in his hand, his own blood smeared all over his face. When he had fallen to the ground after Afina had freed his hands, he had lapped up just enough of his spilled blood to give him enough strength to finish off Elizabeth before she could do any real damage.

The exertion had been too much for him, however, and he fell to his knees, exhausted. Barely able to hold himself up, he reached for the stake buried in Afina's shoulder and removed it before carefully placing her heart back into her chest just as her body began to heal itself.

The toxin shortly thereafter wore-off just as the Count collapsed beside her, panting for air that he really didn't need.

"Are you alright?" he asked.

She nodded silently, grateful when she could finally feel her toes again.

"Afina, I…" Dracula managed, but he was immediately hushed.

"You don't get to talk," Afina retorted breathlessly, pointing her finger at him in warning.

After a minute or two, she had just enough strength to push herself to her feet and she hobbled over to the door, as though her legs were still asleep. She peeked her head into the hallway and motioned for someone to come over. The Count looked up, watching as his protégé guided a young woman into the room, shutting the door behind her. The woman's eyes were glossed over, as if under a spell. Afina ordered the girl to kneel before the Count as she gathered him in her arms, lifting him into an upright position. The girl unlaced the front of her dress and freed her shoulders, exposing her swan-like throat. Afina bit roughly into the girl's neck and just as the blood began to flow she pressed the wound to the Count's mouth, making sure he was drinking before placing the girl in his lap after propping him up against the bed as he sat on the floor.

As the Count fed, Afina proceeded to remove the needles in his veins, her eyes never showing the relief she felt when he began to heal on his own. She watched him for several quiet minutes as he drank every last drop that he could get in an effort to replenish what had been taken from him. The girl was soon dead and when he was finished, Afina rose to her feet.

"Afina, wait…" he began, wiping the blood from his face with the back of his hand as he stood.

"I said you don't get to talk," she reminded him.

"At least let me thank you," he insisted, noticing that she had left one shackle fastened around his ankle. He struggled against it when trying to move toward her.

"I don't want your thanks," she replied. "You saved my life, I saved yours. We are even. Craven is dead and your guests are finishing off the others."

"The others?'

"They attacked shortly after you left with Elizabeth," she explained. "Fortunately, I recognized most of them due to the inquiries I had made earlier in the month. Your guests enjoyed the sport. Craven came this way in an effort to get to Elizabeth, but I cut him off." She picked up the crystal vase that had been filled with Dracula's drained blood and placed it carefully on the tea table. "You have no idea how hard it is to disembowel a man without spoiling one's clothes," she commented, washing her hands in a basin of water beside the bed before wiping the excess blood from her hands with Elizabeth's discarded gown.

When she was clean, she clapped her hands together once and avoided eye-contact with him entirely, her eyes constantly looking back to the open door. "Well, I better head back down stairs, make sure everything is alright. I'll just let them know you're presently indisposed," and she was suddenly making her way toward the exit.

Unwilling to just let her leave and run the risk of never seeing her again, he broke the chain with a single tug of his leg, and before she could reach the door, he was behind her, shutting it with one hand. She could feel him standing behind her, could feel the heat that came from feeding radiating off his body. Every down-hair along the length of her spine stood on end. She didn't have to look at him to know how he was looking at her. She could feel it burning into her skin.

"Afina."

He whispered her name with such reverence and such need, she knew if she didn't get out of this room now, he would never let her leave it. She grabbed the door handle with rapidly dissolving resolution and went to open it again but his hand pushed back on it steadfastly. After another failed attempt to open the door, she rested her forehead against the cool polished wood in defeat.

"You're not going to let me leave, are you?"

"I don't want you to leave," he whispered. "I take back what I said last night. I never should have said it. I should have trusted you." She felt him close in on the minimal space between them, his bare chest barely brushing against her back, his arms on either side of her as she continued to face the door. He rested his head against hers, his nose in her hair, and she felt him press a soft kiss to the back of her head. "I – I'm sorry." She closed her eyes at the sound of the words, having heard how much effort it took for him to say them.

She felt his hand tenderly grab hold of her upper arm.

"I don't want to lose you," he said, his voice barely audible, strained with emotion. "I couldn't bear your absence. Stay with me," he pleaded, his hand caressing down her arm and back up again. "Stay with me." He kissed her bare shoulder reverently, squeezing her arm in earnestness. "Please stay."

She knew she should have left – that had been the plan. Save him and leave him. But the tenderness that was coming from him was so genuine and so sincere, it was near impossible for her to walk away now. She slowly turned to look at him, her back pressed against the cool door as she looked into his eyes, immediately noting how earnest he was.

He caressed the side of her face with the back of his fingers, lost in her gaze. He could feel it again – that delicious sexual tension, the same that he had felt the night of Agnar's equinox ball, but there was more to it than that. For the first time in his life, Count Dracula couldn't bear the thought of losing someone. It was a foreign sensation, but it wasn't unpleasant. It was an exquisite kind of agony, not knowing if she was going to reciprocate his feelings. Would she push him away once again? He tried his luck and gently kissed her forehead, his lips lingering for a moment before he pulled away to whisper the word "stay" once more.

That gentle kiss on her forehead spoke volumes to Afina, making it harder for her to pull away from him. The look in his eyes seemed to say even more. He wanted her. That much was evident. But that kiss on her brow spoke of a respect he had for her, that as much as he wanted her, he didn't only want her to feed his sexual appetite. He wanted her at his side. It was so strange, standing there with her back to the door, this powerful man looking down at her with pleading in his eyes.

"I should make you kneel on the ground and grovel," she stated. He immediately fell to his knees before her and she almost laughed.

"I am at your mercy," he replied. "Punish me however you will." She loved the teasing in his eyes, but she also knew a part of him was completely serious.

"I'm still mad at you," she insisted, trying to sound adamant, but he could hear the wavering resolve in her voice and it gave him hope.

"Undoubtedly," he breathed, standing slowly again.

"By rights, I should just leave you and never look back."

"I wouldn't blame you if you did."

"You've been a complete and total ass the last few weeks."

"I know."

"And I didn't appreciate how loud you and Elizabeth were. I could hear her from almost every corner of the house."

"That's not my fault."

"That is entirely your fault," she replied with an archness in her expression. "I'm by no means a prude, but when I can start keeping a tally of how many times you got her to…" Her voice drifted suddenly, and he watched as the look of teasing slowly melted away, her eyes glossed over in what appeared to be desire. She was suddenly very aware of the lack of distance between them. She already knew Dracula was an excellent lover, and though she had hated him for being so blatant in his sexual escapades with the late Elizabeth Nouveau, a part of her couldn't help but wonder what kind of magic the man could work on a woman's body. Just the thought made her warm all over and she could feel the slight flush in her cheeks. "I am still very, very cross," she added unconvincingly, looking longingly at his mouth.

"Absolutely."

"Stop agreeing with me."

"Yes."

"You have no idea how much I want to smack your face right now."

"Then hit me," he pleaded. "Do something. I know you are not without feeling."

"If you can live without feeling anything, then so can I," she answered stubbornly. His hands were on either side of her now.

"Afina…"

The way he moaned her name undid her.

"I'm going to regret this, aren't I?" she inquired, her voice heady with desire.

"Probably."

"God, I hate you," she inhaled, closing in on the remaining distance between their mouths and kissing him soundly. He returned her kiss immediately, ready to devour her with his open mouth before his lips locked again with hers, their kisses feverish and deep.

His bottom lip was soon caught in her mouth and she bit it lightly, teasing him. To him, the action felt like she had kicked open the doors that held his passion in reserve, and all of it came pouring out as he held her face in his hands, thrusting his greedy tongue into her receptive mouth. He plundered mercilessly and she let him, her hand moving behind his head and holding him there, her fingers tangled in his hair. Even though neither of them needed the air, they couldn't get enough of the oxygen, both panting heavily between each kiss.

His tongue thrust into her mouth and he tasted and explored every nook and cranny before retreating, his lips caught on her bottom lip. He was thrilled when she responded in kind, the tip of her tongue reaching out for his like some kind of siren, pulling him back in for another deep, soul-consuming kiss.

His mouth moved over her jaw and down to her neck and she felt him smile against her throat when she moaned gently. His hands were all over her – he was all over her, and it became increasingly difficult to keep track of where he was. But the taste of blood still lingering on his tongue excited her and soon it was her tongue invading his mouth, eager to lap up every last drop. Her forwardness incited a mad passion in him that seemed to devour every inch of his body. The feeling of her softness against him, her desperate hands in his hair, her fervent tongue penetrating his mouth – it was almost too much. It was like being caught in a fire - nothing but all-consuming heat that devoured everything in it's wake.

In an effort to regain some semblance of control before he lost himself to her completely, his passionate kisses found her neck again and his teeth raked across her flesh and he suckled that sweet spot just above her collar bone where her neck met the curve of her shoulder. The friction of his teeth on her skin created a delicious kind of pain and the sounds she made in response thrilled him. His name – the full three, glorious syllables – passed her lips in a heady moan full of sexual longing and nothing had ever sounded more beautiful to him. He plundered her once again, their lips quickly finding a mutual rhythm. Every inch of his skin was crawling, as if his flesh had gone years without being touched by another, her hands leaving trails of splendid heat in their wake. Everything about her made him feel hot and hard and he clenched his fist, pressing it into the door in an effort to keep himself in check.

She felt his body move against hers and she immediately noticed the state he was in, his engorged groin hard against her. Torn between a longing for wanton abandon and the desire to regain control, Afina was relieved when the sound of Dracula's name being called could be heard down the hall.

He emitted a low growl of frustration, his forehead pressed against hers as he swore under his breath.

"It's Vigdís," Afina explained with labored breaths, recognizing the voice.

She could tell he didn't want his time with her to end, but he didn't have much of a choice. He kissed her one more time before pulling away reluctantly, opening the door just a crack and peeking his head out into the hall.

"Vigdís! How can I help you?" he asked, forcing on a pleasant smile.

"We had wondered where you had disappeared to."

"You'll have to forgive me. As you can see, we had some unexpected visitors this evening," and he motioned to the dried up corpse of Craven in the hall before opening the door to his chambers and allowing the woman to lay her eyes on the remains of Elizabeth as well.

"I'm glad you're in one piece. Have you seen Afina?"

"I'm fine," Afina replied, revealing herself from behind the door. "Elizabeth was trying to drain the Count of his blood so the Order could take him as prisoner," Afina explained as calmly as she could. "I arrived just in time."

"What a relief! And such very lucky timing, too! Are you quite alright, Count?"

"Never better, my lady," he assured her with a bow, quickly grabbing his shirt. "I'll just finish dressing and will join you as soon as I can."

"Of course. Such a dreadful business. Although, I suppose it worked out perfectly. Nothing like a good hunt for an interlude. We were hoping to discuss the current state of affairs with the Order. It is clear they mean business. We are all in agreement. The sooner we take care of the Holy Order, the better. We were thinking we could march on Rome by mid-November."

"In two weeks?" Afina replied, genuinely surprised. "So soon?"

"I think that's an excellent idea," the Count replied.

"Perhaps we could discuss it over some of that vintage wine I hear you have stored away in your cellar?"

"I'd be delighted. Would you be so kind as to gather the others? We can meet in my study. It's on the floor beneath us, left hall, second door."

"We shall be there shortly. And please bring Afina. We feel her input would be invaluable."

"I couldn't agree more."

Vigdís then excused herself, vanishing just moments later, leaving the Count and Afina alone once more.

"Two weeks? That's hardly any time at all," Afina pointed out.

"It'll give the Order very little time to prepare, which is exactly the kind of advantage we need," Dracula explained, pulling on his evening jacket before fixing his hair.

"Well, you know best. I'm just the soldier," she said with an unsure smile, making her way out into the hall, but before she could cross the threshold, he grabbed her arm and pulled her back into the room.

"You are much more than that, my dear," he insisted with a fervor that surprised her pleasantly. "You are my bellator… my warrior."

"I am not yours yet, Count Dracula," she teased.

"My name, Afina. Say my name."

The mischievous glint in her eyes melted away, replaced by a soft smile. Her better judgment was screaming at her – she knew this was a bad idea, getting involved with him like this and so quickly. But the fact that he had just saved her from Elizabeth and with her lips still pulsating from his passionate kisses, Afina pushed that nagging feeling into the back of her mind and grabbed the lapels of his jacket, pulling him toward her and kissing him with an abandon that drove him to the edge of oblivion all over again.

"Vladislaus," she purred.

He rewarded her with another kiss, deeper than the one before, his arms wrapped around her, her body flush against his. It was a delicious contrast, one that made Afina suddenly crave the feeling of his skin on hers; the thought of him filling her in the way only a man could made her blush violently.

He gently pulled away from her lips at long last and looked into her delirious eyes. "We should go."

"Yes, we should," she agreed.

"And we should probably talk about this."

She smiled and kissed his hand with a reverence that touched him deeply.

"There isn't much time," she answered. "Not now. But when all of this is over…"

"Do you mean it?" he asked her. "You know my feelings, but I don't want to rush you into something you don't want."

She gently took the hand that was caressing her face and she held it to her heart.

"I do want it," she whispered. "More than you could ever know."

The admission made him smile and he kissed her brow sweetly before resting his head against hers.

"When this is done, then?"

"The second it's all over," she promised.

He knew she was right. With an impending war with the Holy Order just two weeks away, there wouldn't be enough time for them to explore the possibilities of being together – not just as confidants and friends, but as an actual couple. But when all of this was over, he thought to himself, they'd have all the time in the world and although the idea was foreign to him, it was so easy to imagine having her as the only woman in his life. He wasn't entirely ready to make that kind of commitment just yet, but perhaps after Van Helsing and the Holy Order had been removed? Perhaps it was time to settle-down after all, he mused to himself, following her out of the room and down the hall.

They met with the elders and several other prominent figures in vampire society in the Count's study just a short while later. The sound of the party below them could still be heard and the music and sound of reveling provided an oddly light-hearted soundtrack for a very serious meeting. Afina was the last to arrive, having offered to collect the specific bottle of wine that Vigdís had requested. Tom, the servant who knew the ins and outs of the cellar, was nowhere to be found, which left Afina to rummage through several rows of vintage bottles until she found the right one. On her way out of the cellar, she had accidentally stepped on a small vial that had been lying in the middle of the floor – something that she found to be mildly suspicious, but had to dismiss. She didn't want to keep the others waiting.

By the time she arrived in the study, battle plans were already underway. The date had already been decided and agreed upon – in two weeks' time, they would attack. Adnraste and Reunan were insisting on a more forward approach, proposing that they descend upon the Vatican City in force, destroying every last living thing with a heartbeat to ensure that no member of the Order escaped.

Although the proposal was appealing to some of the others, Dragoş argued that a slaughter of innocents was unnecessary for what they were trying to accomplish.

"For the most part, our existence is still a secret from the rest of the world," he continued. "We don't have definitive proof that the entire church is even aware that we exist."

"Dragoş is right," Raynora, his wife, chimed in. "The Order may be deeply imbedded in the church, but the church is not the problem. The Order is the problem."

"I have sources that say that the Order's central hub has always been in the catacombs beneath Rome. It was the Vatican that was built on top of it," Dracula explained. "What we need is a way in without attracting too much attention."

"I still say we storm the city," Reunan insisted. "The actual church may not be responsible for the Order, but they are a part of it. Besides, attacking from the ground level is our only option, anyway. It's the only way inside."

"Do we even know how to get inside?" Vigdís inquired.

"I have no problem tearing down that city stone by stone," Adnraste replied. "Besides, it was the Catholics that wiped out most of our line in the first place."

"We want our revenge," Reunan added.

"You're forgetting that the Order supposedly has this secret weapon that could destroy all of us," Vigdís reminded them. "And besides, the majority of our lines are susceptible to the traditional methods of destruction. Storming a church full of monks, rabbis, priests, friars, and imams would be incredibly foolish."

"We could always get in through the catacombs," Afina suggested casually as she finished pouring the wine into various glasses. She didn't have to look up to know all eyes were on her and she smiled slightly as she began to hand the wine glasses out to the guests.

"There is a very old tunnel system that runs under the heart of Rome. The Order monopolizes most of these tunnels but there is one in particular that has been unused for nearly a century due to a section collapse. What the Order doesn't know is that there's a sewer line that leads directly over that tunnel on the other side of the collapse. The only thing that separates that line from the tunnel is an old door that had been walled up. All we need to do is break down the wall, sneak into the tunnel, and we have access to the very heart of the Order's operations."

"How do you know about this?"

"I found it in a book in the library," she explained, glancing over at Dracula. "You have old blueprints outlining the tunnels beneath the city and another set of the sewer line."

"I do?" he asked.

"You do now," she replied with a gleam in her eyes. "I didn't spend all of my time in the city looking for information on Craven. There are several excellent shops that sell old maps and plans and things in the city."

"Where are these maps now?" Lucian asked, speaking for the first time since the meeting had begun.

After the wine had been passed around, she retrieved two scrolls from a drawer and laid them across the desk as the others gathered around to see. Dracula stood on her right and watched as she carefully unrolled the first map. The map of the tunnel system was old – very old. Fortunately, the map of the newer tunnel system was made of a lighter paper and Afina positioned it on top of the older scroll to show where the two intertwined.

"To ensure that they don't hear us coming, we just need to set up a distraction in the square outside of the Vatican," she explained, pulling out another map – this one containing details of the Vatican. "Most of the Order will concentrate their efforts here, in the Piazza San Pietro just outside the doors. The Selkirk's can take that opportunity to exact revenge for the desecration of their line, along with any others that wish to do so." The twins seemed pleased by that proposition. "When they are finished, there is a seal in the plaza that when removed, opens the entrance to an additional tunnel that leads down to the Order. I can also take a small group into the Vatican itself and can lead them to the secret entrance that leads down to the hive at the exact time that another team comes in through the tunnel."

"They'll be surrounded."

"Precisely."

"A clever plan," Dracula replied, unable to hide the pride in his eyes as he looked at her. "But there's only one thing I'm concerned about? How can we draw out Van Helsing?"

"You will need to be part of the distraction," she explained. "My uncle can take a group of fifteen or so into the tunnels. When the Order sees you, the word will quickly get back to Van Helsing. If I know him – he'll be waiting for you below."

"My wife and I can take care of the Order below while you have your revenge," Dragoş offered, taking his place on Afina's left. "An excellent plan, though if the stories coming out of Rome are true, we're going to need all of the help we can get," and took a drink.

"We can use the next week and a half to gather members of our respective lines and can meet in the Apennine Mountains – there's an old fortress there we can use for shelter from the day," Reunan explained.

"Then we are in agreement?" the Count inquired. "The evening before the attack, we shall meet in the mountains to combine our forces and then we'll descend. The Selkirks will create a diversion in the piazza. The Ákis will take the tunnels, and the Thurstan line and Afina will take the ground entrance within the cathedral. We'll all meet below at the stroke of midnight to finish this once and for all."

There was a round of approval from each individual in attendance and when the plan had been decided, Afina handed the Count her glass of wine, which he took with a smile before raising it to the others. They all followed suit as he offered a toast.

Musical Influences:
[1] Love Scene, by Gabriel Yared & Cyrille Aufort, "A Royal Affair" score
[2] I Am Hers, She Is Mine, by Ramin Djawadi, "Game of Thrones" season 2 OST
[3] Mixed Messages from Anne, by Trevor Morris, "The Tudors" OST
[4] Cassiopeia, by Sara Bareilles, "The Blessed Unrest"

YouTube playlist and Tumblr have both been updated to reflect inspirations for this chapter.