Light of Dawn

by Angela Colsin

  The thought reminded her that Mitchell was coming by the next day with the last of her belongings he needed to return. It wouldn't have been a problem when those items were just a few movies and video games, but he also had a key to the apartment.

  If she didn't answer the door, he'd let himself in to leave it behind for her.

  “Damn.”

  “What?”

  “I just remembered that someone's coming by my place tomorrow, and they have a key. If they let themselves in and see the state of things there, they'll call the police.”

  Ulric casually waved a hand toward the phone in the room, directing, “Call the police yourself.”

  “And tell them what exactly?”

  “Just say you found the apartment in shambles when you came home, so you left for a hotel because you didn’t feel safe staying there.”

  “Don't you think a hotel outside of the city limits would sound strange?”

  “Not really. You can tell them I’m a friend and offered to let you stay here for the night.”

  “Ulric, they might believe that now, but no one I know has ever heard of you before.”

  “You really think they’d check into it that deeply?” Ulric asked as if he knew from experience, and Charlotte had to admit that he was probably right.

  Unless the crime committed was dire, there wouldn't be too much concern. Hell, they'd probably just think she'd been having a party that got out of hand, especially when nothing turned up missing.

  As she stood to grab the phone, Ulric also got up, mentioning on the way to the door, “I'm going to check outside while you call them, make sure things are still quiet.”

  “Wait,” Charlotte started, “what if vampires are creeping around?”

  Ulric gave her a serious look, stating simply, “They'll wish they weren’t.”

  She had to admit, his confidence was comforting despite the fact that she wasn't too fond of him. Just count your blessings, at least he's capable.

  After Ulric left, Charlotte lifted the phone and started dialing for information, but stopped herself short. Why should she call the police and get them involved when she could simply call Mitchell and tell him tomorrow would be a bad time?

  She just needed to figure out the reason why he couldn't come by, and after some deliberation, Charlotte dialed his number. Hopefully, Donna wouldn't answer, but it didn't really matter when she wasn't eager to speak with either of them.

  The phone rang three times before Mitchell picked up, asking, “Hello?”

  “Mitchell, it's Charlotte.”

  “Oh,” he started, sounding confused. “Why are you calling from a hotel?”

  His caller ID must have picked up the information, and Charlotte hesitated, reworking her story in her head. Finally, she answered, “That's why I'm calling you. I needed to tell you that tomorrow won't be a good day for you to drop off my things.”

  “Tomorrow's the only day I can for two weeks.”

  How typical. Mitchell never was willing to work anything out if it didn't suit his schedule. But Charlotte lacked the will to argue just then, especially after the night she'd had.

  “I know, but the apartment's being fumigated. Actually, the whole floor is. So I decided to just stay at a hotel for tonight and tomorrow until they're done.”

  “They couldn't put you in another apartment for the time being?”

  “There weren't any available after they relocated everyone else.” After coming up with that, Charlotte thought for a moment, then suggested, “You could bring it by the hotel tomorrow if you're strapped for time.”

  She heard his sigh of indignation before he conceded, “Fine, I'll come by tomorrow then. I can just leave it at the front desk for you to pick up.”

  Charlotte quickly seized on the idea. Get my stuff back without having to face him? Hell yeah!

  She felt silly for not wanting to see her ex face to face, but she still carried a trace amount of feelings that made it depressing to be in his presence for too long. So if he could drop the items off to be picked up, then that was completely fine by her.

  “Sure, sounds good.”

  “Yeah,” he drew out. “By the way, Donna's been upset.”

  Charlotte rolled her eyes. Oh god, don't bring this up now. “Why is that?”

  “Because of the email you sent. She didn't want to ruin your friendship.”

  Under normal circumstances, Charlotte would've tried her best to cordially explain that she hadn't meant the email offensively. But now, she was out of patience, and the thought that she'd taken the time to word her message as politely as possible after finding out that Mitchell had moved in with Donna only a week after their separation, and Donna was still upset, made her snap.

  “Then maybe she shouldn't shack up with my ex before divorce papers can even be drawn!”

  Mitchell was silent for several long moments in response, and Charlotte knew it was because he hadn't expected such a quick barb when she normally went out of her way to be polite.

  “Sorry, I've had a long night. I just need to get some rest.”

  “Okay, I'll let you go.”

  “Bye,” she replied unenthusiastically and settled the phone back down.

  Just talking to Mitchell had her feeling depressed again, and angry over how the divorce still got to her. Charlotte didn't have time to focus on that when vampires were after her and dragon men with horns were taking her across the country to get a curse box.

  I just want to be over him already.

  Rather unexpectedly, as Charlotte had the thought, the door opened. It couldn't have been Ulric, not after only five minutes of checking outside, which meant vampires must have found them already.

  Charlotte wasn't completely certain, but who else would it be? Ulric could be in a fight or even dead right that minute, so she looked around for a weapon, noticing a vase settled next to the phone.

  Without question, she snagged the item and held it at the ready. Maybe a vase wouldn't do much damage to a vampire, but she'd fight until her last breath if she had to. Just imagine the vampire's Donna, that'll ensure your survival.

  With the thought in mind, Charlotte was ready for war.

  ~*~*~*~

  Ulric didn't sense any threats whatsoever.

  In fact, the outside of the hotel was so quiet that he'd simply gone to his car to check on Rozdra, who was wide awake now, and released her to hunt before he headed back inside.

  But the moment he stepped into the hotel room and around the corner from the entryway, he had to reach up quickly, catching the neck of a vase that Charlotte had just thrown which came within inches of hitting him.

  Lowering the item and flipping it in one hand, he asked in amusement, “Not jumpy are you?”

  Charlotte grumbled, countering, “You try getting attacked and bitten and being bullied and see how paranoid you get. I didn't expect you to come back so soon.”

  He supposed she was right. Being a human and having this situation suddenly heaped on her shoulders all at once would have her rattled for a while. So he didn't comment further, walking to the couch where he sat and placed the vase on the coffee table while explaining his quick return.

  “Coast is clear outside. I didn't pick up any strange scents, and everything is quiet.”

  “Good,” she replied, taking a seat in the recliner where she lapsed into silent thought for several moments before mentioning, “I still can't believe vampires exist, but I saw it with my own two eyes, and the more it settles in, the more creeped out I get. Do they have any weaknesses I could exploit?”

  Ulric was glad to see she wasn’t being emotionally irrational about this—which would've driven him crazy, and considering his reactions to this woman so far, he didn't need the extra frustration.

  “Sunlight for starters,” he answered. “A vampire also sets fire if they enter a place of worship given to a god who disagrees with their existence, which includes almost every god people revere in your world. But they have to be inside,
not just on the grounds surrounding a church or temple.”

  Charlotte took those words in, silently thinking everything over, and Ulric wondered how much longer it'd take to reach the box bringing her along than it would going alone. But he was always up for killing vampires, and wasn't complaining, especially not after Isadora's warning.

  And the thought of Isadora had a question coming to mind.

  “Charlotte, did the box come with anything else? Like a letter?”

  She glanced at him, then nodded, “Yeah, it had this weird poem in it.”

  Suspiciously, he inquired, “What kind of poem?”

  Charlotte recited the simple verses from memory, and Ulric sat forward as he listened, draping his arms across his knees. When she was done, he suggested, “That sounds like a witch's spell.”

  “A what?”

  Knowing she was still new to this, he went into detail. “Witches can weave magic into words as long as the words have some meaning. From the sound of it, I wouldn’t be surprised if a witch or a warlock sent it to you.”

  In other words, Isadora.

  Had she been the one who sent Charlotte the box? She was in the area when he'd lost it, so it wasn't unfathomable that she'd gotten her hands on it and put it in the mail. But why do that and then tell him she'd simply had a vision of where it was going to be found? That was the part which made no sense.

  Unless she already knew Charlotte was part fae, and needed someone to protect her from vampires.

  Ulric didn't have much time to mull the possibility over before Charlotte reacted to his explanation as if she didn't want to hear anymore. “Alright, witches, whatever. All I want to know is why would they send me a magic poem with the box?”

  “Not sure. Have you noticed anything unusual lately? I mean, before this evening, but after you received it.”

  Charlotte looked to the side as if unwilling to admit something, but finally muttered, “Yeah, I can’t stop thinking about it, even had some trouble mailing it. If the woman at the post office hadn’t just taken it out of my hand, I might’ve changed my mind and kept it. Even then, I wanted to tell her to give it back.”

  “Hold it close and keep it safe,” Ulric recited from the poem. “Sounds like whoever sent it didn’t want you to let go of it.”

  “Maybe they didn’t want you to get your hands on it.”

  “They would’ve done more than bind the box to a human if that were the case. But whoever sent it had a reason.”

  “Yeah, they want to meet me, or so it said.”

  What witches put onto paper wasn’t always straightforward, so Ulric wasn’t sure that was it, but had no idea what else it could’ve been, wondering again if this was Isadora's doing. Was the line it will lure to you the things you need supposed to mean him?

  After all, Charlotte was being targeted by vampires, so she did need him.

  If it was true that Isadora had learned of Charlotte's situation and sent the box so Ulric would follow behind and protect her, he hoped she had compensation prepared.

  With the thoughts in mind, he glanced at the mortal as she ran her fingers through her drying hair a few times, groaning over the state of it. She likely wanted a few personal care items, like a brush or shampoo, and Ulric looked away when he had the urge to get them for her.

  Saying this was Isadora's doing, she couldn't have chosen a better person for the job. The strange draw he was experiencing to Charlotte was only getting stronger. He even felt as if there was a good reason for his consideration that he couldn't discern, and it was damned peculiar.

  Protection was one thing, but if considering what he could pick up to make a road trip more comfortable for Charlotte wasn't going overboard, then he didn't know what was.

  Pushing the thoughts away, he heard her grumbling and asked, “What’s wrong? The situation isn't so terrible, is it? It's like taking a vacation with a handsome man.”

  As soon as the words were out of his mouth, Ulric drew a blank. He hadn't referred to himself in such a flirty manner in a very long time. Going overboard? I think I'm already lost at sea.

  Still, he waited to see how she'd respond, spying an unimpressed look in her eyes as she countered, “If I’d wanted a vacation, I would’ve arranged one myself, and if I was interested in a handsome man, we wouldn't be going on a hunt for a magic box.”

  As confounded as he was, Ulric was also surprised by the retort. The last time he’d used a line like that, the response had been a few snickers and some returned admiration.

  Apparently, Charlotte wasn't interested.

  But the worst part of all was that he didn't feel foolish for being so flirty—he actually felt justified.

  “Really? Then why are you blushing?”

  “I am not!” Charlotte felt her cheeks just to make sure, then added, “I’m freezing, Ulric, if there’s any red on my cheeks, it’s from hypothermia.”

  “It’s about seventy degrees in here, how are you still cold?”

  “I'm small and don't do well in cold weather.”

  Looking her over, he decided she was right, being on the slender side as she was. But that wasn't all he noticed, taking in the fact that she had curves in precisely the right places for his particular tastes. Her breasts were just the right size to fill his palms, and her hips had a nice flare in the jeans she wore.

  But when he caught himself staring, he looked away, growing exceedingly annoyed.

  Ulric had easily remained celibate for the past seventy-five years after vowing to wait for his mate. Ever since, he'd never been tempted enough to even playfully flirt. But now, he was staring at a mortal female as if he'd never seen a woman in his entire life.

  While considering it, images came to mind, vague memories of being under the control of a potion, and the ridicule he'd suffered whenever it wore off. He'd been used, degraded, and made to hurt enemies of the Kalar in various ways. Sometimes, new memories surfaced, screams of those he'd unwillingly harmed chilling his blood, serving as a painful reminder of why he'd made such a vow to his eternal mate to begin with.

  But Charlotte wasn't his, could never be his, and he refused to continue acting in this manner with her.

  “Go get a shower, some warm water might make you feel better,” he muttered, standing and plucking his phone from his pocket to go call Isadora from the balcony for privacy.

  Charlotte stopped him after only a few steps, however. “Wait.”

  Ulric looked over, though his expression wasn't completely pleasant. “What?”

  “Would it be okay if I called my friend and warned him about what you said? If other mercenaries show up for the curse box, they might kill him.”

  Normally, he would've at least considered it, but in that moment, he was simply not in the mindset to entertain the notion of making things even harder for himself by letting her warn her friend when he'd be likely to dump the box as soon as he heard the word danger.

  “No,” Ulric replied, then went to grab the wire connected to the phone, cutting it with his dagger to ensure she couldn't call anyone while he wasn't looking.

  Without giving Charlotte time to respond, he shut the sliding door on her completely. But his ears were sensitive enough to detect a few choice insults being yelled at him as he'd lifted his phone, and in the middle of dialing, he stopped himself.

  Guilt hit hard enough that he wanted to go back inside, apologize, and offer his phone to make up for being so clipped. But it was just more of that odd consideration talking, so Ulric redoubled his resolve, placing a call to Isadora.

  Sadly, he only got a recording from a cheerful fae saying you've missed me, I'm probably out hugging trees, so leave a message!

  Grumbling, he replied, “It's Ulric, pick up your phone, hippie, I need to talk to you about the mortal you sent me to. She's part fae, and I want some answers.”

  With that, he hung up, then stared at his phone in hesitation, finally giving in and placing a second call to Garrick about Charlotte's cat—and covering up the state
of her apartment. After some grumpy responses, Ulric wormed an agreement out of him with a promise of payment.

  Shoving the phone back into his pocket once the call ended, he didn't bother going inside when Charlotte would likely throw something at him—on purpose this time. So instead, he leaned against the railing, looking over the landscape which entailed nothing but trees and a few buildings rising up beyond them that belonged to Orange Falls.

  Taking it in, he found himself unsure of what was more important; who Charlotte was, or what. But Ulric did have an answer to one question, which happened to be that he couldn't wait to get rid of her.

  Chapter 8

  Despite Ulric's best efforts to ignore the draw he felt to Charlotte, he still found himself shopping for her comfort the next morning.

  After sleeping for about two hours, he got up at dawn to accomplish some errands, leaving Charlotte to rest a little longer. Though vampires still presented a problem when the sun was up, it was no where as bad as at night, so she would be fine long enough for him to refuel his car.

  They hadn't spoken another word that night, and he fought to ignore the guilt eating at him over it, but then made a pit stop for some essential items Charlotte would likely appreciate having during their trip. The entire time, he told himself it was simply to keep their potential bickering to a minimum, and not because he actually cared about her needs.

  After how highhanded he'd been, something needed to be offered as a type of truce anyway—but he couldn't fully convince himself it was the sole reason.

  Ulric didn't have time to be worrying about a female, yet there he was, grabbing travel sized bottles of shampoo and toothpaste for her convenience—and the most perplexing part of all was the satisfaction he felt in doing so.

  He drove back to the hotel with the thoughts in mind, leaving the items he'd purchased in the backseat with Rozdra's carrier as he walked inside to get Charlotte so they could leave.

  But on his way through the lobby, a man standing at the front desk caught Ulric's attention when he told the receptionist, “I need to leave this for one of your guests.”