Apologies for the late update, I don't know about you readers but I am incredibly grateful to see the back of January! Sadly failing at my New Resolution for DiF so far but really hoping to get back on track this month.

Was overwhelmed by your lovely reviews for the past chapter. Always nerve-racking to post smut in a fic as you have to tread a very fine line between getting the characters, language and content right. I'm so relieved and joyful that many of you enjoyed it and felt it was true to Scarlett and Vlad's relationship. I am being particularly dreadful at the moment with replying to reviews and messages but never fear I will reply and I am always so grateful for the support and encouragement they give me.

xo

Chapter 73

Afterwards, they curled up together under the duvet, too sated and sleepy to worry about trivial matters such as the sweat and stickiness coating their limbs. Scarlett wrapped an arm around his waist, snuggling deep into his side, her head resting on his chest. Her fingers trailed lightly up and down over the bare skin of his back, her touch still sending sparks of electricity though his body. For his part, Vlad was only too happy to press soft kisses against the dampness of her tangled hair, to run his hands possessively over her limbs, memorising the sensation of her smooth, soft skin against his. They didn't talk much which surprised him. He had wondered if Scarlett was going to ask him for reassurance, had even contemplated giving it to her regardless just in case but it seemed that she was content for now to occasionally lift her face up to his for yet another tender kiss and press ever closer against his body. Breathing in his girlfriend's scent, Vlad decided that he liked this. He liked how Scarlett's almost naked body felt against his, how her soft curves pressed against him, how their legs were tangled together. It was so intimate, so different from what he usually experienced with the women he bedded. Yes, he liked this all very much.

A little too much. 'Dragul meu.' The memory of those words made him grateful both that Scarlett couldn't see the frown currently darkening his features or know the meaning behind them. Whatever had possessed him to say such a thing? He had just wanted to reassure her, to show care and affection when he had mistaken her act for one of fear. It was nothing, it meant nothing, he told himself fiercely. Except he had the awful, unsettling feeling that it did. That she did. That she meant so much more that he wanted her to and had done so for longer than he wished to acknowledge. He listened to the strong, steady beat of her heart, to her breathing as it grew deeper, steadier. He continued to trail his hands up and down the length of her body, treasuring every exquisitely silken inch of what he considered to be his. He should have known. Amongst all the other things, he had done his best to ignore about Scarlett, he should have realised he was getting in too deep, becoming too attached to the impossible. And it was too late now, the thought struck his increasingly befuddled mind as sleep struggled to claim him, whatever she was, whatever danger she posed to him or his kind, he'd find some way around it. He had to because there was no way in hell he was giving her up.

Grey and desolate. That's how Dmitri would describe the little seaside town that clung stubbornly to the cliffs against the wind and waves of the Atlantic. Once, it had had probably been bright and full of life and colour, even seventy years ago, this Victorian town would have been bustling. Now, the façades of the houses were faded and rusting, many of the shops boarded up and empty. It wasn't just that it was off-peak season, the wintry weather couldn't account for the outdated play park hopelessly incapable of competing with holiday resorts abroad or the bleakness that hung over his landlady like a low laying cloud. Dmitri had seen too many towns out of their rightful era, past their peak, to be fooled.

The bed and breakfast he had chosen - no more lurking and hiding in abandoned buildings when on the Chosen One's tab, gave him a room with a view. Standing by the window, resting his hands on the sill, Dmitri took in everything that the scene had to offer. The glitter of the black waves toiling on the grey shore, the drunken laughter of a few teenagers as they staggered home from a night of illicit drinking. Even from here, enclosed by the glass and brick of his room, Dmitri could smell the intoxicating scent of their blood. He ran a tongue hungrily over his fangs, his sense, his appetite, they all seemed to sharpen as soon as he left Oxford. It would have been easy to lure one of the brats away, to sink his fangs into some real flesh and drink deeply of a substance which could never compare when bottled up or manufactured. Still, those actions were not compatible with his vows to the Chosen One. He swallowed down his hunger and focused instead on the true purpose of his visit here.

The Convent. A religious building which appeared to have been built right into the rock of the cliff itself. It towered over the rest of the town, a white fortress which gleamed brightly amongst the jaded grey of its surroundings. Turning away from the window, Dmitri began the task of sun-proofing his current abode. Tomorrow evening, he would set about obtaining the answers his master severely needed.

"Should we worried?" Father Tobias asked with a wry smile as they observed the vampire emerging from the building, pulling up the hood of his cloak and hurrying along the well-trodden paving stones of the quad. The Order's recent observational activities concerning Scarlett Collins had brought to light some illuminating but potentially alarming information regarding her closeness to the Grand High Vampire.

Father Michael's mouth tightened in a barely disguised grimace. "If we were that concerned about her virtue then we could have chosen another path." It was a known point of tension within the Order that Fathers Michael and James had opposing opinions on what should have and what should yet still happen to the girl.

The other priest glanced back at him. "Too bad Irene had other ideas." It was a not too subtle reminder to his superior that the battle over strategy had been lost almost two decades ago. And then lost again when their ward had become orphaned.

"Hmm." Father Michael said nothing else in return, his cold gray eyes remaining on archway where the Chosen One had just disappeared.

Scarlett awakened irritably to the sensation of someone gently shaking her shoulder. With a mumbled curse she rolled away from and buried her head deeper into the softness of her pillow. The smell of freshly brewed coffee still managed to reach her even through all the fabric and it was this along with the weight of Vlad pressing down on her bed that finally persuaded her to crack open one eye and peer suspiciously at the alarm clock on her bedside cabinet. With a mutter of discontent, she noted that it was barely half seven, she had at least another forty five minutes before she had to rouse herself for breakfast.

Grasping the cup of steaming coffee that miraculously appeared before her, Scarlett took a couple of long slurps before raising herself up on one elbow to meet Vlad's annoying grin.

"You are dreadful in the mornings," he said fondly.

Scarlett glared at him silently but didn't move away from the hand that reached out to smooth back the hair that falling around her face. She took another couple of gulps of her coffee before finally managing to speak. "Why so early?" Her question came out as an embarrassing croak, hardly the sexiest start to the morning after but judging from Vlad's smirk he didn't seem to mind.

"I have to go to Doctor Harker before it gets light." He bent down to brush his lips against her forehead. "And I can't stay the day so I wanted to get you breakfast instead." With a flourish, he produced a plate of newly baked chocolate croissants, the sweet and buttery smell certainly waking up Scarlett's stomach even if her mind was a little fuzzy. She sat up further, making sure to shyly tug the duvet up with her so that it covered as much of her as possible. The hungry, disappointed look Vlad directed at her concealed breasts make her heart rate accelerate at a speed which was most unhealthy for this time of the morning.

"Thank you." She eagerly bit into the heavenly combination of pastry and melted chocolate, savouring the taste and texture which somehow seemed crisper, sweeter this morning. Vlad moved so that he was sitting on the bed with her, his arm snaking its way around her waist beneath the bedcovers, the touch of his skin cold from the winter morning outside made her start at first and then, as his thumb circled over her ribs, sent ripples of anticipation through her. It surprised Scarlett how little awkwardness there was between them, how comfortable it felt to do this with him. She suddenly hoped that there would be many more mornings like this, that this wasn't just a brief moment of happiness to hold tightly onto in case it never happened again.

"Everything ok?" Vlad's lips moved leisurely over her hair, his hand slipping upwards so that his fingers were just about tracing the underside of her breast. "You're very quiet," he teased, "If I didn't know better I'd say something or someone has completely worn you out." Another tantalising brush of his fingers.

Scarlett finished her coffee before turning to meet the intensity of his gaze. "I'm not a morning person," she replied haughtily.

"Mmm." The throaty sound of that little word shouldn't have sent fire racing through her body. Nor should he have been cupping her breast, his eyes darkening as his gaze fell upon her lips. "Are you sure about that?"

The only outwardly remarkable thing about the USB stick in Father Luis' hand was its garish shade of neon green. He rolled the small object between his fingers, reminded not for the first just how fast technology was progressing that an entire history, over millennia of secrets and a search which had lasted for hundreds of years could be contained within and resolved by a single program contained within this computer chip. How very far they had come from their early beginnings of parchment and ink.

"Are you sure it will work?" He asked, giving it one final roll between his fingers before sliding it into a concealed pocket underneath his robes.

Sister Augusta raised her eyebrows as if mildly insulted. "If the correct information is inputted."

"Father Luis gave her a placatory smile. "If it were that easy, if a simple computer program was all that is required to locate the source then surely it would have been found by now." Nonetheless he found himself patting his pocket just to make sure that the item was secure.

Sister Augusta let out a bark of scornful laughter. "I know," she replied easily, an all too knowing look in her eye. "It's almost like I'm insinuating that the Guild has been delaying the search." She stood up, her height almost the equivalent of his, her movements and demeanour confident enough to let him know it wouldn't have mattered if it hadn't been. The woman in front of him was not the sort to be intimidated by anyone. "Now what possible reason could they have for that?"

Aware he was narrowing his eyes, a giveaway sign that her question had disturbed him, Father Luis looked away. His gaze fell on the stash of comic books he had procured for their most recent addition to the team. Sister Augusta must have followed his line of sight. "He'll have to go out tonight."

The priest looked at her in disconcertment. "He can't," his voice was a little too high pitched revealing a concern he wasn't supposed to have. "It's far too dangerous, there are Guild members crawling everywhere."

Sister Augusta cocked her head to the side, the admonishing look on her features telling him clearly without words that he was growing too attached to the vampire boy they had taken in. "He needs to," she said plainly. "Our role here is to keep the Guild occupied. And mustn't we always follow our orders?" She moved off then, her attention evidently required elsewhere and Father Luis was left wondering not for the first time what he wasn't privy to within the inner circle of the Order.

"I have been expecting you." The calm, measured manner in which Doctor Harker greeted him without so much as lifting her head from her work caught Vlad off-guard. She continued her task of writing neatly on a post-it note, the silver pen moving elegantly across the muted yellow of the paper. "I suppose you think as a visiting student you are above the rules and regulations of this university." She picked up the nearest book and stuck the post-it note on the open page, smoothing it down with great care.

Ah, well if she merely thought he was here to discuss academic matters he could work with that. Closing the door behind him, Vlad resumed his previous saunter into the sumptuous surroundings of Harker's study. Unlike Teverson, her room was much less homely, there were no photographs of family or friends, no small intimate touches except for perhaps the delicate tea set in the corner of the room. A matching tea cup of which currently sat to Harker's left.

"Is this about Teverson's research project?" He ignored the chairs which were clearly placed out for whatever student was timetabled to have an early morning meeting with the academic and stood on the other side of the desk, placing his hands on the smooth, highly polished surface.

Doctor Harker looked up briefly. "Amongst other things." She began to write on another post-it note.

"I can explain everything." Vlad leaned forward, his voice low, and unintentionally sensuous as he mentally coaxed her to look up into his eyes.

Doctor Harker rapped the shiny surface of the desk with her pen. "Including this?"

Vlad glanced down realising belatedly that he had betrayed himself. There was nothing in the sleek wood to reflect the fact that he was standing right before her. And she had noticed. His next words died in his throat as Doctor Harker continued to talk, pointedly keeping her head down so that she wasn't looking directly at him.

"Eastern Europe has a fascinating history, the Tsars, the Soviet Union, the fall of communism and the political upheaval that resulted. A history that no doubt you are eager to pursue when you return to St Petersburg next term." Another stroke of her pen, another post-it note stuck and smoothed. "A return which most frankly I will welcome. You have taken advantage of two of my most vulnerable students. They have bright futures which I will not allow to be compromised by anyone. That includes the offspring of some rich oligarch who has nothing better to do than fund meaningless research projects for his own amusement." Now, she looked up, her dark eyes full of an uncompromising intelligence and a veiled threat that nearly caused him to take a step back. "I hope we are at an understanding Vlad …Count."

Vlad considered her words and the double meaning behind them with care. As soon as he returned to his Banbury mansion, he would be ordering Bertrand to conduct a very thorough search into Doctor Harker's family tree. "I believe we are," he said finally, forcing a smile onto his lips.

Despite the warmth of the winter sun beating down on his balding head, Dave still felt a shiver of cold from the harsh wind that was sweeping through the campus. It was a sign of how accustomed he had become to Oxford that he found a university campus where all the relevant buildings and facilities were contained within a small space a rather strange concept. In Oxford, the university and the city were one, the university buildings spread out across the entire city, there was no one central location and even though access was restricted to certain libraries or colleges for the most part townspeople, students and tourists mingled as one. In a way, Dave preferred Nottingham's campus, it was clear cut where as to who belonged where.

It also made it easier to track someone down.

Sunlight glinted off Eve's blonde hair as she climbed down the steps, a coffee in on hand, a couple of folders in the other. The wind blew hard at the loose papers in her folder almost causing one to escape but she managed to grab it in time. A few drops of coffee spilt down onto the paper but it didn't seem to be anything to worry about judging by the eye roll and smile she gave the girl by her side. She looked happy, Dave thought sadly, happy and relaxed. From this distance he could just about make out that the dark smudges under her eyes had gone, her petite frame had filled out a bit perhaps the results of too many late night kebabs after the drinking sessions students were supposed to be so renowned for.

His hands curled into fists. She wasn't allowed to be happy. Eve, his Eve, the girl who had risked her life to slay vampires, who had stuck through everything with him, who had always covered his back no matter how badly their mission had gone, yes that lovely girl, she deserved the best. But Eve didn't exist. She had been nothing more than a hollow mask, a cover up for a traitor in their midst. This Erin, this lying, treacherous bitch who turned on her own kind to serve the Grand High Vampire, thought that she had gotten away with it. That she had managed to fooled not only the Guild, but also him.

The rage which had been simmering in Dave since he had seen Jonno's old photograph threatened to boil over as he watched Erin laugh, tossing her head back, her fine blonde hair floating in the strong breeze, her eyes sparkling and live. He forced himself back into the shadows. He had been patient with plotting his revenge. Erin would get her retribution, he would see to that.

Timing was a delicate matter. It required finesse, an understanding of the appropriate moment to press one's suit and when simply to drop a single word in order to twist a person's thoughts. In order to achieve his goal of protecting the Chosen One, Bertrand needed to take some steps which would necessitated the most careful of handling. Do it right and not only would he meet the most immediate of his needs but he could also further a couple more of his longer term goals. Bertrand was nothing if not fastidious. However, circumstances were currently such that he wasn't entirely certain of how he was supposed to get access to Vlad's blonde pet without arousing his master's suspicions. It was clear that the Chosen One was not only protective of what he foolishly considered to be his but he also had inherited that most unbecoming trait of the Draculas – jealousy.

Ordinarily, Bertrand had much time for the vice of envy. The resulting possessiveness and paranoia made it delightfully easy to toy with people's mind, to twist their goals to suit his. The most recent example of this was the pathetic breather girl he had been abusing over the past month. He had fed and coddled the increasing darkness within her, was slowly pushing her to the brink of mental instability but he could never have achieved this without her initial willingness. Some, regardless of whether they breathed or not, were all too susceptible to weakness. Yes, Bertrand was familiar with the various traps that one could lay when it came to jealousy, what he was less familiar with was having that vice directed specifically at him. The very thought still made him tsk with disgust. How could the Chosen One come to the conclusion for even one second that he, Bertrand du Fortunesa, would ever sully himself by so much as contemplating a breather to be fit for anything but feeding?

Dropping his current book on Irish folklore, Bertrand rose from his coffin and ambled across the room to the nearest bottle of blood. Pouring himself a generous measure, he tilted the glass back and swallowed the entire contents in one gulp. Yes, he would have to be very careful indeed about uncovering Scarlett Collins' secrets. The problem was that he more than anyone appreciated the importance of timing but he had an unsettling feeling that there was increasingly little left to spare.

Chapter 74 teaser:

'Nobody got to walk away from the Grand High Vampire unscathed…'

Responses to guest reviews:

Squiresf 03/01/2015: Thank you so much for an amazing review. I'm genuinely touched by your lovely words and enthusiasm and passion for this fic. I'm so glad that this development was worth the wait as I really want Vlad and Scarlett's relationship to be realistic in how it develops and for Scarlett's character in particular that has meant waiting. There will be more romantic/sexual moments happening between them and I hope that I will continue to get them right for my readers.

I've read somewhere that the direct challenge for an author is not starting to write but finishing what you started no matter how good or bad. I've never finished a work that I've started and DiF is truly a test case for me. If I can finish it then maybe I can start researching and writing the idea for a sci-fi novel that's been in my head since a teenager. Or that Mills and Boon romance I keep joking about to my friends. Saying that though, I do have a sequel planned to DiF…

I'm really glad you feel I've resolved details and minor plots, I know it can be an intricate plot at times but everything is building up and contributing to the finale, all will be resolved/explained soon.

Sorry, this is an incredibly long reply but thank you so much! xo

Guest 20/02/15: Thank you very much, brilliant to hear that and that you've been enjoying the fic so far. I hope this update was worth the wait! xo