by Vivi Anna
Table of Contents
Dawning
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Glimmer
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
About the Author
Other books by Vivi Anna:
DAWNING
An Urban Fantasy
By
Vivi Anna
Copyright 2011 Vivi Anna
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Chapter 1
Dashrael bristled at the summons as he strode the long hall of Nightfall Castle. To think that Chancellor O’runa could call him at a moment’s notice without regard for time or manner. Dashrael may be of service but he was in no way a servant. Not to any creature in the realm, especially not a pompous high fae who thought himself better than the mer folk.
As he walked, his bare webbed feet slapped wetly against the gleaming black tiles. He didn’t care if he left watery footprints all over the pristine castle floors. It was a small reward for his unexpected summons. Dashrael failed to dry off when he’d emerged from the tide pool in the center court. His long white hair and clothes dripped with lake water. Let the chancellor explain when the brownie maids screamed to the overseer about the mess.
When he reached the set of ornate black doors, he opened them without knocking and strode in. Tom, O’runa’s loyal brownie servant, rushed to his side.
“Lord Dashrael, may I offer you something to drink? Tea perhaps?”
“No, nothing, thank you, Tom.”
The brownie bowed low before him, his curly dark hair nearly skimming the floor. Then he rose and left the room, shutting the double doors behind him.
Dashrael scanned the large drawn room to find O’runa in the far corner speaking into the enchanted mirror hanging on the wall. As Dashrael approached, the high fae touched the glamoured surface to end the call and protect to whom he was speaking. It appeared that the chancellor didn’t enjoy being summoned either.
O’runa turned to greet him, a saccharine smile on his thin pale face. “Dashrael, good of you to come.” He took in the water dripping onto the floor at Dashrael’s bare feet. “And so quickly.”
“Was there a choice?” He couldn’t keep the disdain from his voice.
“There’s always a choice.” The chancellor gestured to the nearby settee. “Please sit.”
“Are you sure? I may ruin the fabric.”
“Nonsense. We’ll have it recovered if it came to that.”
Although miffed, Dashrael sat. The chancellor settled in on the other side, prim and proper, careful not to get his tunic too close to the water stain Dashrael was already making on the silk fabric.
“So why have you summoned me?”
“I have a mission for you.” More the chancellor spoke, more that Dashrael could smell the lavender and herbs he always ingested. He stank like a flowering plant, and not the delectable ones that Dashrael often dined on. It was one of the many things about O’runa that bothered the merman. That and the nasally whine of his cultured voice. It grated on Dashrael’s scales.
“Yes, that much I gathered.”
“It is of the utmost importance and requires discretion and complete secrecy.”
Despite the abysmal messenger, Dashrael was intrigued. “I’m listening.”
“No one may know and you must leave the realm immediately after our conversation.”
“But my…”
“Immediately.” He steepled his long bony fingers. “Do you accept these terms?”
“What is my payment?”
“Ten thousand gold pieces and the good favour of the overseer himself.”
Dashrael lifted one white eyebrow. “This is a mission for Lord Wolfstriker?”
O’runa nodded.
“Then I accept the terms.”
To be in the favour of the overseer would be a boon for Dashrael. For a century he’d been doing the dirty work for the high fae but not once had he been able to impress the most important fae in Nightfall, Lord A’ralurn Wolfstriker. Now was his chance to gain some status for himself and his mate Sunarael. Maybe at the next solstice ball they would be able to celebrate inside the castle walls instead of at the town square with all the other commoners of the realm.
The chancellor grinned. “I’m glad to hear this.” He handed Dashrael a thin, rectangular, black leather case, no bigger than his palm.
Dashrael opened it to see a simple mirror inside. But he knew nothing was simple in Nightfall. The glass was enchanted and acted like a communication device.
“You will get all the information you need once you are in the mortal realm.”
“I have to go to the human city?”
O’runa nodded. “Yes, what needs to be found is in the city.” The chancellor stood, ending their meeting.
Cupping the case in his hand, Dashrael stood as well. “I won’t fail this mission.”
The chancellor grinned. It possessed no warmth. “Oh, I know you won’t.” Before Dashrael could read into that statement, O’runa continued. “You are one of Nightfall’s best trackers. You take the missions all others fail at. We are counting on that.”
Dashrael bowed his head and made his leave. The thrill of the hunt making each step determined. He was the best for a reason. Discreet, loyal, and fierce. The qualities of someone who was determined to make a name for himself. And he would not fail, no matter the circumstances.
Chapter 2
It was raining when Dashrael walked out of the ocean and onto the deserted beach. He was thankful for the dreary day so he could move from water to land without an audience. A tall scaly man with long bone-white hair and eyes was not so easily explained away in this day and age. Not even in such a progressive city as Vancouver.
Once on the beach, he took out a vial from his leather breeches, popped the top and drank the contents. It was bitter on his tongue. Within minutes, his appearance changed to something as innocuous as a tall man with long blond hair, green eyes and regular pale skin. His clothes now consisted of a pair of jeans, t-shirt and a long black trench coat. It was a simple fae elixir called glamor. With it, he was able to alter his appearance to match his environment, the area and the time, which was 1981 he believed.
Dashrael buttoned up his jacket against the cold rain, then took out the leather case. He opened it. Inside was the plain mirror, but he knew it was so much more. He tapped the right hand top corner three times then waited. It didn’t take long before an image materialized in the glass. A man. A mortal by the looks of him. He tapped the surface again, and a name and address appeared.
Jason Decker, 2504 Larch Street.
Dashrael slid the case back into his pocket then surveyed his surroundings. He needed to get onto one of the streets. From there he could navigate the city without a map. He had a mental compass inside and could find just about any address just from instinct. He could find any person on land or water. Every creature radiated an electro-magnetic field and he could attune to it. It was one of the many skills he possessed that made him so useful to those in power. He was one of the best trackers and hunters in Nightfall.
Once he walked across the beach and up onto the street, he bent down and pressed his fingers to the cement. He could feel the magnetic signature of the earth, and through that all the individual lines connected to the people living in the city. Concentrating on his mark’s face, Dashrael was able to pinpoint his exact location. Thankfully, it wasn’t too far from where he was on the beach. Pulling up the collar on his jacket, he set about hunting down the mortal
Jason Decker.
About an hour later, Dashrael was hunkered down behind a wall of bushes alongside a stylish bungalow on a quiet residential street. Lights were on in the house, giving off a warm inviting glow. He peered through the leaves and through the side window into what would be the living room of the house. There was movement in an adjacent room. Dashrael could see the shadows moving on the hardwood floor but he had yet to obtain a firm visual on Jason Decker. He couldn’t report in for further instructions until he did. Because he possessed an abundance of patience, sitting here in the bushes in the rain to wait didn’t bother him. During another mission, he’d waited in the same spot for over a day for his mark to return home.
Fortunately, he didn’t have to wait that long before Jason Decker walked into the living room. Dashrael had his confirmed visual.
He pulled out the case, opened it, and tapped on the left side of the glass three times. Within seconds, O’runa’s face appeared in the mirror.
“I’ve located the target,” Dashrael announced.
“Good.”
“What is my objective?”
“Eliminate the target.”
Dashrael’s gut churned. He’d been hoping that this wasn’t an assassination, but he’d been foolish to think otherwise. Killing was another thing he was good at. And he’d been used on several occasions in that capacity.
“In what manner?” he asked, knowing the chancellor would want the mark killed in a certain way. They always did.
“Make it look like suicide. There can’t be any questions in this one from any interested parties.”
“I’ll be in touch when it’s done.” With that he touched the mirror to end the communication and then slid the compact back into his pocket. Now, he just had to get into the house and kill.
Gaining entry was fairly easy. The patio door from the backyard had been unlocked. Dashrael made a habit of being quick and silent. Not too many of his marks had ever heard him coming. Most didn’t know he’d been there until they were looking Death in the face.
Once inside, he crept, keeping to the shadows along the walls until he was in a good position near the front entrance behind a pillar adjacent to the living room. The human hadn’t even flinched when Dashrael slipped right by him. He’d been near enough to smell the man’s aftershave and see the color his eyes. A bright blue in this case.
Dashrael’s hands were steady, his heartbeat even, as he waited for the right opportunity to take the mortal by surprise. Because he had to make it look like suicide, he thought the best course of action would be to strangle him unconscious, then hang him up by the neck. He didn’t possess fingerprints so Dashrael didn’t have to worry about leaving them on anything in the house, or on the victim.
A few minutes passed before Jason Decker settled onto the sofa in the living room, his back to Dashrael. It was the perfect time, the perfect circumstances. Dashrael would be so quick that the human wouldn’t suffer, wouldn’t even know what was happening to him.
Clenching his hands open and closed, Dashrael took in a deep calming breath then stepped out from the pillar. A voice from the kitchen gave him pause.
“Jason, I’m home.”
The human turned his head to the side. “I’m in here, my love.”
Jerking to a stop, Dashrael bolted back to his hiding spot just as a beautiful woman stepped into the living room. He could barely breathe as he took in the newcomer. His heart thudded hard in his chest, his gut churned.
It couldn’t be. He must be dreaming. But as the truth of the situation hit him square on, he knew he’d been sent here not to kill Jason Decker but his companion. A woman Dashrael knew as A’lona Wolfstriker. But she was more than just a woman, she was high fae, and the overseer’s only daughter.
To make matters even more dire…she was pregnant.
Chapter 3
Dashrael watched from his hiding spot as Jason wrapped his arms around A’lona. It was an embrace of a man and women completely in love. Dashrael didn’t need to see a DNA test to know whose baby it was growing inside the fae princess’ belly. He now understood the true reason he was sent here.
For centuries the fae had fraternized with the mortals. In the past, they stole infants and replaced them with changelings. Many a fae lord and lady had had human lovers. Despite all that though, it was frowned upon to mate with a mortal. To give birth to a hybrid, an even worse transgression. Now, here was the most powerful fae’s daughter setting up house with a human, and having his baby.
Dashrael slid along the shadows and back out of the house. He couldn’t do what he’d been paid to do. He couldn’t kill A’lona and her unborn child. This was something even his loose morals wouldn’t be able to handle. Besides, he knew A’lona, had grown up with her. They’d been children together in Nightfall. Once upon a time, they’d been friends. And at one magical time, even more than that. A’lona had been his first love.
Once he was situated back in the bushes beside the house, he took out the enchanted mirror and tapped it three times. O’runa’s pale pinched face materialized inside.
“Is it done?”
“No.”
“Then why do you call me?”
“I relinquish the gold and any favour from the overseer.
O’runa frowned. “You refuse to do the job?”
Dashrael nodded. “I will not kill a fae princess, especially not one with child.”
“That child,” he spat, “is an abomination. The overseer demands it.”
“I will not do it. There is nothing you could promise me that will change my mind.”
The chancellor shook his head. “I’m sorry to hear you say that, Dashrael. Your people will be sorry as well, especially Sunarael. I’m sure she will be the sorriest of them all.”
“If you harm her!” Dashrael spat but the image was already fading. Frantically he tapped on the glass, but it was to no avail. The communication had been permanently closed. “Damn it!”
He threw the case against the house wall. The glass shattered into pieces, peppering the grass with thin shards. Out from the bushes he stepped. He had to head back to the water so he could return to Nightfall and protect Sunarael.
“Dashrael?”
A’lona stood before him, the look on her face telling him she’d known he’d been in the house and why he’d been hiding in the bushes.
He bowed his head. “A’lona.” She was as ethereally beautiful as she’d always been, maybe even more so with the glow of impending motherhood on her porcelain skin.
“Who sent you?”
Should he lie and save her the heartbreak of knowing her own father ordered her death, or tell her the truth and expose her lineage for his ruthlessness?
“The chancellor,” he stated, then after a pause, “On your father’s orders.”
She nodded stiffly as if she’d known all along or suspected as much. Maybe she had. “But you have refused?”
“Yes. I came not knowing the true target. Once I saw you I knew I couldn’t go through with it.” He motioned toward her swollen belly.
A small smile lit up her face and she ran a hand over the swell of her body. “I thought I could hide. Come here to be with my husband and have my child in peace. But I see now, that is impossible. He’ll never let that happen.”
He had to tramp down the urge to reach out and run his fingers through the black silk of her hair. She looked so sad. It stabbed him deep inside. But the thought of his mate Sunarael kept his hands at bay.
“What will you do?” he asked.
She shook her head, the dark fall of her hair sweeping her chin. “I don’t know.” She clutched her belly even tighter, obviously afraid for her unborn child.
“I swear to you, A’lona, that I will not allow anyone else to track you down. When I return to Nightfall I will put out word to every tracker, every hunter, that to harm you is to bring death down upon their heads. I will come for any that will try.”
She gave him a real smile that lit up her blue eyes li
ke twin full moons. She looked like the young girl he’d loved so long ago.
“A new age is dawning, Dashrael. The old regime must fall. It is men like you that need to be in power.”
He took her hand in his. “If only that could happen.”
“It will. I know it will. It has to.” She squeezed his hand. “You will be punished for disobeying orders.”
He nodded. “I know.” He released her hand. “I must return to Nightfall before that can happen.” He turned to go, then stopped to look at her once more. “May the light always shine upon you.”