Light of Dawn

by Angela Colsin

  Perhaps Isadora had simply misinterpreted her vision.

  As he considered it, Charlotte mentioned, “Ulric, I need your help.”

  “With what?”

  “I don't know what to wish for. Chandra mentioned I could wish to transition, or just wish away my fae side altogether, but I'm not sure what I really want.”

  At the mention of wishing away her fae side, Ulric tensed, denying her. “No, whatever you do, don't wish it away.”

  “I don't want to,” she pointed out, “but Lillian couldn't use me for that spell if I did.”

  “And if you transitioned, you'd be immortal and her spell wouldn't matter. Besides, I'll be here to protect you, so as long as you're part fae, there would always be a chance you could transition by yourself. Mortal or not, I need you.”

  “You don't need me, Ulric, you just want me because—”

  “It's not that simple,” he interrupted. “If you're not my mate, Charlotte, I don't want one. So promise me you won't wish it away no matter what.”

  Charlotte's breath hitched, her cheeks tingeing pink as she softly asked, “You're not going to tell me to wish to change?”

  “Why should I? You're already working on it. Besides, if you do it yourself, you'll have a wish for something self-indulgent,” he grinned.

  She looked extremely pleased with that response, grabbing him in a tight hug. “Okay, I promise I won't wish it away.”

  Wrapping his arms around her, Ulric admitted, “I'd rather see you do it on your own anyway. Becoming a fae might be difficult for you to get used to.”

  “Maybe,” she agreed, looking up at him. “But would I be off in assuming you'll be there to offer support?”

  “Not at all. As long as you'll allow it, and even if you don't.”

  She grinned, giving him a quick kiss before turning to go lock the pendant inside the box, then put the key in her pocket.

  As Ulric watched, he thought about the call he'd just received from his brother. Garrick had obtained more information from a vampire who not only knew, but was willing to pass along Lillian's whereabouts. They were both wary of traps, but this vampire claimed he wanted revenge for the Rymid she'd killed trying to burn Ulric alive in that basement.

  Lillian had become a target of her own faction with that stunt, meaning her magistrate status was no longer official.

  It also meant he had to leave again.

  “Charlotte,” he began, “Garrick has a lead now, and I have to go.”

  She turned to face him, asking, “Where?”

  “I don't want to say for your safety, but it's a few states away. We should be back in two days at the most, and until then, I wanted you to stay here and wait for me.”

  Charlotte grumbled, “I'd rather go with you, dangerous or not. It's boring here, Ulric.”

  He smirked, “True, but you have some things coming tomorrow that you need to wait for.”

  “Damn it,” she muttered as if she'd forgotten, then changed the subject. “Where will we go when you come back, anyway?”

  “To Dalris' estate about an hour south of Atlanta. I haven't stayed there in a while, but it has more room than Garrick's penthouse.”

  “Is there any way I could leave tomorrow once my stuff arrives?”

  Ulric knew the Spire got old after a while, so it wasn't surprising that Charlotte wanted to go as soon as possible. She'd also be safe with Dalris, so Ulric agreed. “I'll call Dalris from the road to let him know what's going on, and you'll need his number to tell him when you're ready.”

  She smiled appreciatively, grabbing a small notebook and a pen from her purse so he could write the information down. Ulric took it, deciding to get her a phone of her own as soon as possible, and when he handed the notebook back with the number in it, Charlotte asked, “What happens if you don't find Lillian?”

  “I'll come back. It's better to keep you safe than chase her in circles.” With a sigh, he added, “Still, I'm hesitant to leave you again. I could always ask Dalris to join Garrick instead, or even Liam.”

  As if tempted, she thought it over, but then denied him. “No, I think you should do this. I'll be fine until you get back, and you'd better call me to update things while you're gone.”

  Ulric smiled, sweeping his knuckles along her cheek as he promised, “I will, sweetness, and I won't be able to get back fast enough.”

  She bit her lip, then took his cheeks in her hands and pulled him in for a deep kiss. Ulric groaned, returning it while wrapping her tight in his arms, reluctant to let go despite her reassurances.

  But this hunt meant Charlotte's safety, and he couldn't think of a better reason to separate himself from her again. He'd just have to make quick work of Lillian and return as soon as possible.

  Chapter 25

  Charlotte's things didn't arrive until late evening, like adding insult to injury when her eagerness to get going only made time seem to slow down the day after Ulric left.

  Though he'd offered to stay, and she was tempted to take him up on it, Charlotte kept remembering how Lillian admitted that Ulric had satisfied her needs, and every time the words played in her head, she wanted to kill the vampiress herself. So asking Ulric to stay would've only made her feel guilty.

  He called at noon the next day, but had little to tell aside from the fact that he and Garrick were fine, and Dalris was waiting to hear from her. In the meantime, Charlotte prepared by organizing her things while waiting on the items Isadora promised would be delivered.

  When they finally came, she called Dalris, who seemed eager to meet her, saying he'd arrive in an hour or two. She wished him a safe trip before hanging up, then passed the time by going through the boxes that just arrived to find her laptop, some knickknacks, clothes, and other items stored inside—including her wedding album.

  Charlotte stared at the book for a moment, then pulled it out. The only reason she'd never thrown it away—or just burned it—were the images of Edith it possessed. Her wedding was the sole time they'd met face to face, and the shots of them together made the entire album worth keeping.

  Still, as she turned the pages, Charlotte realized she wasn't having a terrible reaction to the images of her with Mitchell. After everything she'd been through, she was simply happy to be alive, confirming that she was indeed moving on, and only stopped flipping through the book when she noticed an image was missing.

  The subtitle beneath it read Edith and I being goofy before the dance!, and she knew it was her favorite picture of them together, sticking their tongues out at the camera.

  Putting the album aside, she started shuffling through the contents of the box it came in to see if it'd fallen out, and during her search, the phone started ringing. Charlotte grabbed it, seeing an unfamiliar number coming from a payphone somewhere in the city, which got her complete attention.

  Hesitantly, she answered, “Hello?”

  “Hello, Miss Mulligan,” came a man's voice. “I wouldn't hang up if I were you, otherwise you can kiss your friend goodbye.”

  “What?” she asked quickly. “Who is this?”

  Ignoring the question, he replied, “You need to travel to Foxy's, a nightclub in downtown Atlanta, and find us in the red room if you want to save Edith's life.”

  Charlotte sucked in a breath. Edith? Her eyes briefly focused on the photo album, getting a good idea of why a picture was missing.

  Without pause, she demanded, “Tell me who you are!”

  “A vampire who's interested,” he replied pointedly, “and your friend is looking delicious. So you have an hour to get here, otherwise … ”

  The voice trailed as if to say you know what'll happen.

  “You don't have Edith,” Charlotte called his bluff. “Prove it.”

  “She's a feisty redhead, about five foot nothing, with green eyes and—”

  “Fine! Where the hell are you?”

  The man gave directions to follow in order to reach the club, finishing his description by adding, “Come alone. Anyone follo
ws, and she's dead.”

  Charlotte hung up the phone hard, exclaiming, “Asshole!” Then, with a deep breath, she looked around the room. “Think, Charlotte!”

  She couldn't warn anyone, but she sure as hell didn't want to go to this nightclub without some means of protection. She only wished she had … wait, wish?

  Her eyes landed on the curse box.

  “Yes!” She hurried over and unlocked it, pulling the sparkling pendant from within. If things got ugly, she could use it to wish herself out of there. Or better yet, why not wish Edith out?

  Charlotte stared at the pendant in thought. She would've made her wish in a heartbeat, but now she hesitated, not completely convinced that the vampire had his hands on Edith despite describing her appearance. Maybe they'd just taken the picture, and hadn't actually gone to the trouble of abduction.

  So if she wished for Edith to be there, it could draw her away from home, confuse and scare her, and Charlotte would have a ton of explaining to do.

  She donned a jacket over her plain blue top with the thoughts in mind, and stuffed the pendant into her jeans' pocket, deciding against wishing without seeing for herself. All she'd have to do is get in, find out for certain if Edith was there, and wish them both away.

  At least then, she could give the pendant to Chandra and no longer worry with the item.

  She also left a note on the coffee table stating she had no choice in leaving the Spire because her friend's life was on the line—as well as where she was going so Ulric would have an easy time bringing her murderers to justice if she got herself killed.

  Charlotte left the Spire a few minutes later, getting a taxi to take her to the nightclub.

  The drive was fast, and she arrived at what looked to be an abandoned factory building in the downtown area. The windows had old, black shutters covering them, and the inside was dark. But just as the vampire described, there was a door in an alleyway to the left of the building.

  A small sign above it read Foxy's in neon red letters.

  With a deep breath, Charlotte stepped up to the entrance and knocked. After a moment, footsteps sounded from within, and a flap covering three rectangular slats in the door opened up.

  A bright blue eye peered outside, then looked down in her direction, and for a silent moment, she thought the doorkeeper might just shut the flap and not even ask if she knew what the password was.

  But he finally inquired on the lowest, most gravelly voice she'd ever heard, “You lost?”

  “No,” Charlotte retorted as firmly as possible.

  “Then what's the password?”

  “Foxy's my goddess.”

  She really couldn't believe such a phrase would gain her entry, but immediately, the slats shut and the latch on the other side unlocked as the metal door squealed in protest, revealing a dim chamber ahead.

  Charlotte watched, uncertain she liked that she'd actually gained entrance, but stepped inside regardless. The foyer had a single light coming from an archway over a set of stairs that wasn't even glowing at full charge, making the corridor leading down into the underground nightclub extremely dark.

  As she peered into that abyss, the door shut behind her with a heavy thud echoing out, causing Charlotte to jump.

  “You ain't no supernatural,” the doorkeeper remarked just as she'd turned to face him, then looked up. Twice.

  He was huge, about eight feet tall, and though round in the midsection, his arms were heavily thick with muscle. His bright blue eyes peered down at her from a bald head with a long, pale blond beard that was braided, and most notably, two tusks jutted up from his bottom lip, making him an intimidating sight.

  “What are you?” Charlotte asked uncertainly.

  “Ogre,” he replied, looking her over. “You're human.”

  She almost flinched. “So?”

  “So I'm hungry, but we don't eat guests here. You're too tiny anyway.”

  With an awkward chuckle, Charlotte backed away a few steps, nervously implying, “Good for me, I guess.”

  “I guess,” he shrugged, taking a seat in a folding chair not far from the door.

  Charlotte was unable to drag her eyes away from him, and when the ogre saw her staring, he asked, “You goin' in?”

  She almost didn't want to turn her back on him, but looked down the stairs anyway. It was too dark to see the bottom landing outside of a few silhouettes, and as she started walking, it seemed like the further she went, the longer the corridor became.

  Music picked up in volume until she finally reached the door at the landing, and took the handle with a deep breath.

  “Think of Edith,” she told herself, then pushed it open and stepped inside.

  Unlike the dark corridor, the inner club was much more lively. Flashing streams of multicolored lights spread across a large room with all kinds of people socializing. It was a raucous party as far as the dancers went, and others were mingling, standing or sitting by bars and at tables, both surrounding the dance floor, and up in booths along an elevated catwalk.

  Some races she could point out, but others were ambiguous, and the music was so loud Charlotte wondered how anyone could hear properly if they were talking. But she became less concerned with the music and more worried when she noticed that though the party was still going, nearly every person in the place had stopped to stare—at her.

  Suddenly, Charlotte felt like a lamb who'd stumbled into a lion's den.

  “Now this is a surprise.”

  The voice came from her left, and Charlotte's gaze darted in that direction where a tall, slender, and very voluptuous woman stood a few feet away. Her hair was a golden platinum, curled about her face in a manner that made her look like she'd stepped out of a forties era movie. Her red dress was also vintage in fashion, but contemporary in make, knee length and tightly fit.

  Every inch of her body, including the way she moved, dripped with sex appeal as she regarded Charlotte like she might've been ready to pounce.

  For some strange reason, Charlotte wasn't entirely sure she'd mind such a thing.

  “You're just all kinds of frustrated, honey,” the woman purred. “It's almost enough to make me believe you could actually handle a night here.”

  “What?”

  The woman chuckled, sauntering in closer, and Charlotte noticed that her eyes were actually a burgundy shade of red, her pupils slitted. “What brings a sweet girl like you to a place like this?”

  Pursing her lips, Charlotte straightened her shoulders and answered, “I came to see some vampires in the red room.”

  Suddenly, the woman looked disappointed. “Oh, you're a blood slave? Funny, I'm detecting a hint of something else on you, something natural if you catch my drift. It's sexy in a mysterious sort of way. You should use it to your advantage, cure some of that sexual frustration I'm sensing.”

  Unsure she wanted any tips from this stranger—not that the woman didn't seem to know exactly what she was talking about—Charlotte merely replied, “Okay. So where's the red room?”

  “Down that hallway with the rest,” she answered, motioning at a bead covered archway to the left with a gloved hand. “It's strange though, vampires letting a blood slave come in alone. So be careful, that sweetness you give off might attract attention before you get there.”

  Unable to help herself, Charlotte asked, “Who are you anyway?”

  With a smile gracing her ruby red lips, the woman replied, “My name's Foxy, or at least, it is in here.”

  “Foxy? As in … Foxy's my goddess?”

  “Flatterer,” she chuckled. “But yes, that's the password this week. Next week I'm thinking we need something more vulgar. Always good for a laugh.”

  “Right,” Charlotte replied vaguely, deciding she didn't dislike the woman—whatever she is—but she needed to get into this red room and find Edith.

  So she headed to the bead covered archway Foxy pointed out without question, and thankfully, as she walked by several gyrating dancers that she dutifully ignored, n
o one attempted to stop her.

  Pushing the beads aside, she found herself looking down a long hallway with a white tiled floor and black light fixtures lining the walls, and every door within it was painted a different color. Okay, red room must have a red door.

  That one was on the right near the center of the hallway, and she stopped in front of it, preparing herself. Hopefully, Edith wasn't actually inside, but Charlotte decided not to tug the pendant out just yet. She may be able to learn something, such as where Lillian was hiding, so it seemed like a bad idea to reveal her cards too soon.

  Because the vampire on the phone said to simply walk in, that's what Charlotte did.

  The interior of the chamber was decorated in, unsurprisingly, deep reds with Victorian style furniture. There was a four post bed that had a canopy and two chairs sitting at the end by a black, circular table with a vase of roses on top. The light fixtures in the room were made to mimic candlelight, flickering off the walls and setting an ambiance that was meant for intimate encounters.

  Two women were on the bed, twins with red hair, both of them wearing lingerie while a completely bald man sat across from them in casual clothing. They all looked over when Charlotte walked in, but she was too busy noticing something else to pay any attention.

  “Where's Edith?”

  A click sounded behind her, and Charlotte jumped, looking left to see a tall, muscular man with blond hair locking the door right next to her.

  He turned a smirk in her direction, greeting, “Hello, little mortal. I'm afraid Edith isn't here, and she never was.”

  “I knew it,” Charlotte sneered, backing away from him, though she didn't forget about the vampires behind her. “You were just trying to get me out of the Spire for Lillian.”

  “You could say that,” the blond replied, getting closer, and Charlotte decided to turn as she backed away so the others in the room wouldn't be at her rear.

  But the bald vampire moved quickly and grabbed her wrists without warning, jerking both of her arms behind her so harshly it felt like her shoulders could've popped out of place.

  “Let go!” she demanded, thrashing fruitlessly, and attempted kneeing the blond in the groin. Sadly, as her leg lifted, he caught it between his thighs, trapping her almost completely. But there wasn't much she could do with her other leg, and the blond was now pulling out a pair of handcuffs.