Light of Dawn

by Angela Colsin

  “What's the name?”

  “Charlotte Mulligan.”

  Ulric slowed to a stop by a sofa, and though he was standing nearly fifteen feet away, he could still hear every word they said thanks to his keen ears.

  The receptionist began typing on the computer, and finally shook her head. “I'm sorry, sir, we don't have a Charlotte Mulligan staying with us.”

  “Are you sure?”

  Ulric knew the woman wouldn't find Charlotte in their database because he hadn't given their real names as a security measure. But he wanted to know who this human was, studying the oblivious man carefully.

  There were no puncture wounds in his neck. Such a thing could've meant the mortal was being controlled by a vampire, which happened when humans were bitten and took the undead's blood. On the other hand, a vampire could've bitten him somewhere beneath his clothing.

  Still, nothing in the way he moved suggested control of an absent party was being exerted over him. That being the case, maybe Charlotte called him last night while Ulric was out, and asked him to come by.

  The receptionist looked puzzled, checking the computer a second time. “I'm just not seeing it. How do you spell her last name?”

  The man answered, and when she still couldn't figure it out, he thanked her and stepped away from the front counter to head toward the lobby with a phone in hand, likely ready to call Charlotte and ask her what was going on.

  Ulric finally got a good look at his face. The mortal was average in height, wearing a pair of tan slacks and a blue button down with a tie, suggesting he was either upper class, or at least had a well paying job. His build was on the slender side, and his blond hair was neatly cropped around his head.

  There was also the scent of cologne coming off of him, and it wasn't exactly the expensive kind.

  Ulric wasn't impressed.

  He waited for a few minutes with his phone at his ear, but never got an answer because the line had been cut. Once the human gave up with a curse under his breath, Ulric stepped over to tap his shoulder, too curious to let this go.

  The blond turned to look up at him, asking, “Yeah?”

  “I know Charlotte,” Ulric started, “who are you?”

  Questioningly, he answered, “I'm Mitchell Fuller. How do you know Charlotte?”

  “I'm a friend.”

  “Oh,” Mitchell responded suspiciously. “Are you staying here with her?”

  Ulric burned to ask why it was his business, but before he could get anything out, the elevator door opened and drew Mitchell's attention. Ulric looked as well, seeing that Charlotte had come down, and as soon as she noticed them, she came to a stop.

  “Oh, Mitchell,” she looked between him and Ulric, walking over, “when did you get here?”

  “Just now,” Mitchell replied, then motioned at Ulric. “Who's this?”

  Charlotte shrugged casually. “A friend. He helped me pay for the hotel.”

  “I thought you said the apartment was being fumigated.”

  “It is,” she insisted. “Why?”

  Ulric listened intently, and when Mitchell gave him a look—like that of a jilted lover—then shrugged as if commenting wasn't worth it, his anger began to flare. Ulric just managed to stop himself from grabbing Mitchell's neck by clenching his fists.

  Charlotte must've caught the look as well because she rushed out, “It's not like that, Mitchell!”

  “Whatever,” Mitchell muttered, handing her the bag he'd been carrying before heading back through the lobby.

  It should've ended there, and would've if Ulric's ears weren't so sensitive. But as Mitchell walked away, he decided to mutter something that Charlotte wouldn't have detected, being, “Lying bitch just wanted to get me out here to show off.”

  That was all it took.

  Before Ulric could even think about what he was doing, he headed toward the human and took his upper arm, spinning the man around followed by grasping the collar of his shirt. Without remorse, he tugged Mitchell in until his feet left the floor.

  The human grabbed Ulric's fist, but couldn't get a word out when the draconian demanded on a frigid tone of voice, “What did you just call her?”

  His gaze was as icy as his question, and Mitchell shrunk under it. “I … ”

  Charlotte rushed over, grabbing Ulric's arm, exclaiming, “What are you doing? Stop!”

  Ulric briefly glanced in Charlotte's direction, the reality of the situation hitting him. What am I doing? Mitchell's insult had him livid, but confronting a mortal in a public place was not a good idea regardless.

  He had to diffuse this situation, knowing the receptionist could call security and cause a problem he really didn't need just then. So Ulric lowered the man and let go of his shirt, directing, “You owe Charlotte an apology.”

  Quickly, Mitchell rushed the words, “I'm sorry, Charlotte,” before he turned around and hastily left the building.

  Ulric watched him go with no lack of satisfaction, though Charlotte was staring at him in confusion. He honestly couldn't blame her for it either, dumbfounded by his reactions.

  But instead of questioning himself, Ulric motioned behind Mitchell and asked, “Who is he?”

  As expected, Charlotte glared, her eyes that deep emerald green he found mesmerizing as she retorted, “None of your business! Why did you grab him?”

  The fact that she wouldn't tell him combined with his confusion over his reactions had Ulric's anger flaring when he shot back, “Because he called you a lying bitch under his breath! Said you were showing off, whatever that means.”

  Because Charlotte had yet to back down whenever he'd snapped, Ulric was expecting her to redirect her ire at Mitchell now, or in the very least, calm down. Instead, she actually withered when she heard the truth, as if someone had pulled her heart from her chest and stomped on it, making it apparent that she cared about the guy.

  And as soon as Ulric realized it, jealousy seethed.

  It was yet another reaction he couldn't explain, distracting him as Charlotte tried to walk away. But he snapped out of it in time to grasp her wrist and stop her, wanting to demand an answer.

  Still, her somber expression gave him pause. Ulric knew she'd only become even more upset if she were prodded right then. Questions could wait until they were both on the road—when she wouldn't be able to escape giving more information—so for now, he merely inquired, “Do you have anything you need to get from the room?”

  “No.”

  “Then if you need to go to the bathroom, you should do it.” He reached for the bag she was holding and added, “I'll take this to the car and wait for you. If you're hungry, we'll get something to eat on the road.”

  Charlotte grumbled, but let him take her bag without struggle, muttering the word, “Fine,” before walking away.

  Ulric briefly watched her go, then exited the hotel, just as uncertain now as he'd been all morning long. Somehow, the thought that Mitchell was a boyfriend had his gut clenching like he'd been jabbed in the stomach. Trying to convince himself that he didn't give a damn about Charlotte's needs was one thing, but ignoring the fit of jealousy he'd just experienced was something else altogether.

  It reminded him of when he'd gone into Wrath the night before, and he decided he wasn't ever going to figure this enigma out.

  Sitting in his car and slamming the door shut, Ulric let a low breath, then decided to look in the bag Mitchell gave her and see if he could find some clues as to the human's identity inside.

  The DVD's and video games weren't helpful, but Ulric remembered Charlotte mentioning a key the night before, which was also in the bag. So was he an ex boyfriend? If not, he's a dead boyfriend.

  Grumbling at the impulsive thought, Ulric tossed the bag into the back seat, then leaned his elbow against the door. Impatiently tapping his fingers on the steering wheel, he used the time waiting on Charlotte to try to calm his ire and focus on the relief he'd feel when this job was finally concluded.

  Nearly ten minutes passe
d, and Ulric began to feel more rational, but Charlotte still hadn't come out. Muttering, he got up to go inside and hurry things along.

  The moment he entered the lobby, her scent hit his nose, leading to the elevator. He followed it, taking the lift up to the floor their room was on, and stepped into the hallway where the scent should've been growing stronger.

  Instead, it weakened.

  Confused, Ulric took in a deeper breath, able to catch it, but so faintly it was as if she'd never gone back to their room at all. That's when he realized why.

  Charlotte was no longer in the hotel.

  If Ulric was irritated before, now he was pissed. Saying Isadora really had set this up, her compensation better be worth as much as his current job. But more importantly, Charlotte could end up learning that daylight wouldn't completely protect her if he didn't reach her in time.

  Chapter 9

  It was a nice day outside. Nice and sunny.

  Charlotte strolled down the side of the road, enjoying the warmth of the morning light shining down on her. Though the day hadn't started off very pleasantly whatsoever, her mood lifted when she realized two plain and simple truths.

  It was daytime.

  Vampires were asleep.

  Certainly, they'd rise again in the evening, but until then, Charlotte could get away from Ulric, warn Julian, then find a church to hide in until she could get some garlic or a crucifix—whatever might hurt the bloodsuckers.

  Even if those things didn't have any effect, she couldn't let Julian remain in danger. So as soon as she'd realized it was daytime and she could leave the hotel without worry, Charlotte decided to slip out of the back exit so Ulric wouldn't see her.

  Though she'd made a deal with the draconian, her mind was changed the night before when he'd been so short with her about warning Julian. Ulric didn't even act as if it was worth a discussion, cutting the cord to keep her from using the phone as if she were only a prisoner with no freedom to make her own choices.

  But she'd shouldn't have consulted him about the idea at all. Ulric may have only denied her because informing Julian of the supernatural world wouldn't be wise, but she could always lie, and he didn't even want to talk about it.

  So now, she'd just tell Julian to dump the damned box, preferably in a landfill far, far away from his home. We'll see how easily Ulric can find it then.

  Aside from disliking the draconian, however, he also baffled her, particularly with his reaction to Mitchell.

  At first, she'd been horrified, thinking Ulric was just randomly attacking him. But when he made Mitchell apologize, and explained why, Charlotte was simply confused by his defensiveness. Such a reaction would've made sense coming from family, or a boyfriend, but not a man who'd made a deal to temporarily protect her. From vampires.

  Not that Mitchell didn't deserve it, a bitter part of her thought. Hearing what he'd said, Charlotte felt more insulted, embarrassed, and angry than she ever had. Mitchell assumed she was trying to flaunt a relationship, probably to get back at him for going out with Donna, and while it shouldn't matter what he thought, the incident was still upsetting.

  Ulric's reaction only made it look as if they were together as well, which couldn't be further from the truth.

  But it wasn't worth it to stay and find out why he'd confronted her ex no matter how curious she was. He'd probably dump her off the moment she gave him Julian's address anyway, and then she'd be in even more trouble six states away from home and without access to her funds than she would in chancing things alone.

  So leaving was definitely the best idea.

  Now, she moved down the road quickly, looking for a means of communication. Sadly, the hotel was a bit remote, only a ten minute drive from Orange Falls, but that was a long ways on foot, and Charlotte had no idea if Ulric would come after her, or simply go to Tallahassee alone.

  She just had to find a phone before he got to either destination.

  The sidewalk came to an end near the highway where she stuck to the trees, hiding from anyone driving down the road to hopefully buy more time to do what she needed. Thankfully, it wasn't too dense to easily get through, and after a short distance, the foliage thinned out even more, leading her to a small field where a power station was located.

  The lot was fairly large, surrounded by a chain link fence on all four sides with barbwire looped around the top. A large warning sign about the high voltage running through the machinery was posted on a fence about fifteen feet ahead, but Charlotte was paying more attention to a different warning, being the sound of rustling in the trees behind her.

  I guess Ulric's already on my trail. Charlotte stopped at the thought and turned, waiting with a scowl on her face to let the draconian see her displeasure whenever he appeared.

  But it wasn't Ulric who emerged from the trees. Instead, one woman and two men stepped into her view, all of them dressed in normal clothing and looking rather average. Still, the way they moved told Charlotte something was off.

  It was as if they were in unison, controlled by some unseen force, and when they stopped upon spotting her, their expressions was proof of the fact that they weren't all there.

  The most telling sign, however, was that one man had two puncture wounds in his neck located high enough above his collar to clearly see. But they couldn't be vampires, or the sun would've charred them, right? So who were they and why were they here?

  Whatever the answers, uncertainty didn't matter in that moment when Charlotte's instinct said move your ass.

  She took off in a sprint, and surely enough, she could hear the three following behind her—from the sound of it, they were moving fast. So she quickened her own pace, running toward the side of the power station and around to the back.

  The chain link fence rattled as she passed it, saying one of them had run into it and they were closer than she'd thought. Charlotte realized then and there that she'd never be able to outrun them, and just as the notion struck her, she let a startled yell in being tackled near one of the gates that led into the station.

  But she didn't give up, struggling as the woman grabbed her leg to tug her backwards.

  “Get the fuck off me!” she demanded, noticing an empty beer bottle against her hand on the ground while she was dragged.

  Without pause, Charlotte wrapped her fingers around the slender neck and rolled over with the object in hand, swinging it against the woman's head. The bottle broke with glass slicing her left cheek open.

  Charlotte didn't expect it to faze her, so she was surprised when the woman let a yell of pain before stumbling back.

  There was no time to celebrate a victory, however. One of the men immediately grabbed her from behind in a strong hold, and the other attempted securing her legs.

  With adrenaline running high, Charlotte quickly raised a foot before he could, kicking it out and sending the bottom of her sneaker right into his face. As he staggered back, she turned the now broken beer bottle in her hand and stabbed it into one of the arms around her sides, loosening her captor's hold just enough to allow her to twist free.

  Leaving the broken bottle in his arm, she attempted her escape, but didn't get very far when her ankle was snagged and her shoulders pinned to the ground a moment later.

  Yelling angrily, Charlotte thrashed, but it seemed futile. They were just too strong to break away from, lifting her off the ground with seemingly little effort to carry away.

  “Let me go!”

  She screamed the words at the top of her lungs even though she knew they wouldn't listen—but the two men stopped walking anyway.

  Charlotte ceased struggling long enough to look up and see why, barely noticing Ulric just before he stabbed the man holding her legs in the throat, the tip of his dagger emerging from the side of his neck with a spurt of blood.

  Immediately, the grip on her legs loosened, and as her feet fell to the ground, so did the corpse of the man who'd been holding her.

  It was plain to see that Ulric wasn't happy, his horns pro
truding and the markings on his face glowing as he viciously jerked his blade back and turned it to swing right.

  As a result, the dagger stabbed into the woman's left arm, successfully stopping her from attacking him as she reeled back. But Charlotte had no idea what happened next when she was released and fell to the ground, smacking her head against the dirt just hard enough to rattle her.

  Slowly, she pushed herself up, lifting her hand to her head as the sound of metal crashing hit her ears. Focusing, she realized that Ulric had broken the woman's neck, and the last of their enemies had released her to tackle him from behind.

  As a result, both men slammed into the gate of the fence surrounding the power station so hard it'd broken open.

  But regardless of the strength the man possessed, he wasn't a match for Ulric. Having landed on a knee, the draconian grabbed his enemy's arms and pushed himself up, then sidestepped, pivoting on one foot to throw his opponent against a nearby generator like he weighed a pound.

  Before the man could recover, Charlotte watched in a stupor as Ulric grabbed his throat, holding him down with one hand while grasping a nearby connecting cable to break out of the conduit with a good deal of force. With the live wire free, he jabbed the end of it into their enemy's chest, causing a stream of electricity to flood from the cable into the both of them.

  Sparks flew everywhere as Charlotte moved forward quickly, stopping at the broken gate when a loud snap from the high voltage rang out in her ears, followed by the whir of the generator growing louder.

  Suddenly, the top half blew open, smoke wafting up from the device, and the current died.

  Ulric braced himself over the downed generator as Charlotte stared in confusion. Little waves of electricity were rolling over his body at random intervals, and, uncertain of what just happened, she hesitantly whispered, “Ulric?”

  “What?”

  “Um, are you okay?”

  “I feel grand, lady.”

  She wasn't sure she could believe it, but even now, he was standing up straight, not at all burned by the high voltage he'd just absorbed like a sponge. Charlotte was about to ask how when he provided her with and explanation as if reading her thoughts.