Vampiris Sancti: The Elf (48 page)

Romancing The
Elf

The romantic
life of an Elf was a complex mire of lust, indifference, fixation,
and regard. Wary of the obsession that often accompanied those who
encountered them the Elf unconsciously would remove herself from
the complication of attachment, including that of friendship. The
indifference cultivated by the Elf was a mask for though she seemed
unconcerned she did notice the impact her presence had upon others.
While not above playing into this attraction for her benefit, she
skirted the fine line between dabbling and involvement because
demons never took their obsessions lightly. An Elf allowing
friendship into her life was a maturing one setting the stage for
the entanglement of romance.

Wandering
throughout the Reveal, the Elf—like all those of a magical
bent—used the tools of misdirection, misinformation, and mischief
to ensure her freedom remained intact. Her acts were generally more
of an annoyance than causing too much strife, because despite her
disregard for consequences she bore little malice to others. The
subterfuge of naughty imp worked brilliantly on those who first met
an Elf, but others familiar with the mayhem of the magical diva
soon discovered a substance far more enticing than the fantasy.
Elves never chose their mates until they had exhausted all avenues
of mischief. Once they allowed intimacy into their lives their
lover often never allowed their departure, even for the briefest of
time. The fear that once returned to freedom the Elf might never
return was justified for without children an unhappy Elf was
capable of wandering off. Once she accepted her biological needs
the Elf would stay in one place signalling that she was ready for
the final journey—the rollercoaster of family life.

Throughout The
Reveal there were many who fell in love with Elves, fell in lust
with Elves, fell in hate with Elves, and usually all at the same
time. She inspired great passions and not always favourable ones.
Once visible knowledge of her would spread throughout the world and
those interested sought to gain her attention. Usually a Martyc
would arrive and make short shrift of those who would stand in his
way. There were occasions when the Elf in question would reject the
company of the one who was the most powerful, resourceful, or
intelligent. Capricious in all things the final jaunt of a creature
deferring to life exercised her right to be a wayward Elf to the
last moment of her freedom. Those who vied for her attention soon
learned that the Elf had little regard for riches and power while
her attention strayed to the company of those who entertained her.
What actually entertained an Elf tended to remain a mystery of the
universe and some suspect the Elf herself.

Elves were not
great proponents of wisdom, but like most creatures they had an
acute sense of self-preservation of their race. They chose their
mates from non-magical sources as these tended to produce the least
neurotic of offspring. Martycs, the most rational of the demons,
were the ones who achieved the greatest success in Elf pursuit as
they had the power and intelligence to employ a variety of
stratagem. A Martyc would decimate the field by ensuring their
interest was noted. Those vain or foolish enough to continue in the
chase soon found they were out manoeuvred by a suitor who never
lost whether in business or in love.

Courting the
Elf was no easy situation for she ignored flattery, gifts and
power. Sex was not a wise tool as seduction could either go very
well, causing the suitor to experience something no other creature
could replace therefore dooming them to a lifetime of seeking
another Elf or they could find themselves recovering from several
broken bones from an insulted female. The Elf, once within the
confines of a relationship, had a sexual interior that even a
Martyc barely could contend. This aspect of Elf nature was kept at
bay until she was within the security of a relationship that
determined the rest of her life.

The reflections
of the Elf in question were never revealed. While those around her
vied for her attention her aloof regard had her remain peripheral
to courtship. It was not until the Elf agreed to whatever potential
future her suitor offered that he would realise he had attained his
goal and was left with the terrifying prospect of retaining the
presence of his consuming passion.

Once affiliated
Elves made good parents as the emotional depths they had avoided
were now fathomed. They devoted themselves to their mate and family
while the joyous frame of their nature filled the household and
those who entered an Elf domain left with an envious heart. The
choice of removing the daughters of such unions from the family
unit was not done lightly or through negligence. The Elf mother
knew that the free spirit of her magical child would be destroyed
by the jealousy of a demonic world and so daughters were returned
home to be raised by a Maz of her own kind.

Elves rarely
left their partners unless they were abused. If they were then they
would abscond with all their children—demon and magical. The demon
children were never brought to the magical world and their mother
would raise them in a secret enclave provided by the Mages of Sor.
Protected and hidden by their magical counterparts they would leave
their mate behind to suffer the scorn and contempt of treasure
squandered. For to have an Elf was an impossible victory, but to
lose an Elf was made of a stupidity even an Aegai could
recognise.

**********

A consistent
soul believes in destiny, a capricious one in chance.

Benjamin
Disraeli

This time there
was an immediate response to her banging as if the efficient
footmen awaited her arrival and the vast doors opened with silent
officiousness. She entered Ravulisa to find it crammed with every
member on world and perhaps a few that had come to witness the
show. Her emerald eyes swept across the open area causing the
atmosphere to fill with every possible category of lust, except
nothing held her attention. She was looking for the busybody Afir
who was nowhere in sight, but before the ripple of reaction to her
presence had reached the entire floor the Elf disappeared in a
shimmer. She hadn’t forgotten his little charade with the cerilort
and if the Druqe tried to take credit for her appearance then she
would dangle him from something high—he could forget about Martyc
protection. She reappeared on the top floor, the region occupied by
Dhaigre and those allowed to share the privileged space. This time
the large room had only one large table containing the most
powerful beings on the world and a few who turned up for the
conference. To her surprise there was a new human at the table and
he seemed more alarmed by her sudden arrival than the fact he was
seated with Vampires and demons. Whatever they had been discussing
came to an abrupt end as she approached and the Elf appeared to
ignore the effect her appearance had upon their conversation.

“I see you been
started.”

It should have
been the human who gave them away for demons could assume a
basilisk stare at any instant, except he readily met her eyes,
which meant he wasn’t the one hiding information. She read the air
as easily as the human would have read a book and something was not
being addressed correctly, so she settled in for the game of
finding out. Zyre wasn’t offended and the fact demons—well one big
brooding Martyc—was trying to outwit her only added spice to the
adventure. She grinned at the table while avoiding the dark eyes of
the dark demon because she knew he was the only one there who could
consume her attention and bring her close to her truth. She grabbed
a spare chair to place it opposite Vryn that way she could amuse
herself watching him pretending to ignore her effect. Never had she
seen so many powerful beings in one place at one time at least not
on this world. Afir and the Varkja stood silently behind him while
Dhaigre nodded to those around the table as he introduced them.

“The honourable
Ideal Hilara and Aunsin Kokumuo.”

She nodded to
Hilara as this one she knew before staring at the Ancient whose
humanity was nowhere in evidence. The silver of his hair and eyes
were a startling contrast to the shining ebony of his skin. The
core of his strength radiated across the table overwhelming Hilara
and even the Martyc—this was a very old powerful creature. Vryn
continued moving around the table acknowledging those she already
knew.

“The Hark and
the Key.”

Runner, Oric,
once enemies now joined because of a mutual threat, the hunter and
the Vampire sat together and she wondered why it always took
adversity before any world would behave itself. Vryn moved on to
the human where she met the eyes of the being least able to resist
and if her ruby smile hadn’t mesmerised, then the kaleidoscope of
her eyes would have sufficed. The unabashed appreciation of the
human filled the spaces between demon protocol and desire as none
of the others would dare admire her so openly. The Martyc ignored
something that would have had anyone else removed from the room by
the efficient Varkja and Zyre noted his lack of restraint.

Vryn nodded.
“The Mayor of the city, Joe Turner. He controls the human response
to reports of fighting.”

Zyre remembered
how the warning sirens of the human world had suddenly stopped
after the shooting and realised that this human was important—not
just to her. His value to her was all in his response for he was
going to betray those present, whether he knew it or not. His
admiration filled out the distance and he looked her over as if
contemplating ownership of a possession while she resisted the urge
to hang him from the chandeliers dangling from vast ceiling above
them.

“So, you are
the one they call magical—an Elf?”

“Maybe,” she
replied.

It wasn’t that
she was trying to lie as more restrain her natural urge to torment
the unlikeable being before her.

She had spoken
to many humans upon the world and discovered she preferred those
who were less successful and acted the least like predators. They
were rich with experience and philosophy, humorous and generous of
spirit, but this was a different breed. His clothes bespoke of the
trappings of wealth, not the refined off hand elegance of Martyc,
or even Vampire money, but the brash impact of newly acquired
status. His clothes were elegant as was his watch, ring, smooth
blonde hair and shoes, but his eyes held the ghost of avarice and
knowledge of once not owning.

“No friend this
time?”

The mention of
Beb had her eyes merge between blue and green, but the slight
shuffle of those around him didn’t affect upon the obtuse
human.

“He’s busy,”
she replied.

She wondered if
the humans were relying on magical interference to repel the next
attack. If this was so then the Martyc really should have explained
her kind to them. They barely could evoke concern for their own
realm much less one treated with such disregard as the human world.
Perhaps a few centuries of openly demon ownership would improve
human respect for their environment.

Blinkity
bother,
she thought—always wanting magical to fix their
messes.

She looked over
to Vryn, her smile became softer and the black of his eyes became
fathomless. To the observer he looked cold, but she understood the
façade of the Martyc. She knew how he felt because in order to get
that response she had to feel it a little bit as well. Careful as
always about breaking the connection before it consumed them she
snapped her fingers to dissipate energy causing the sparks of
Salvae to colour the air. The mayor jumped back in his chair while
the rest confident in their safety viewed the miniature fireworks
without comment.

The Hark opened
another map showing the area around the Centre and he pointed to
the obvious weak areas. Zyre sat crossed legged on the chair
watching those around her discuss the merits of each plan.
Instantly bored she found the eyes of a server standing a discreet
distance away. Not that his proximity mattered for his demon ears
could have picked up any conversation easily from across the
room.

“Pastry,” she
demanded to the startled waiter who dashed off to meet the
request.

Turner pointed
to a building near the Centre to give his take on providing
security for the area. Recognising it she dissolved to reappear
behind his shoulder making him jump in shock.

“All wrong,”
she mumbled with a mouth full of pastry while she pointed with a
sticky finger. “Tis a metal box as big as a carriage on this one so
can’t see past it.”

The Mayor
frowned. “They must have put up a new climate system.”

He turned to
speak to her, but got lost in the emerald of her eyes and Dhaigre
took over the conversation.

“Anything else
you happen to notice?”

She gave the
dark demon a saucy smile and not because he was amusing, but
because she had decided that he was fibbing. It wasn’t the nervous
human that gave them away or that the Runner and Oric were unable
to meet her eyes. It was the crafted indifference of the Aunsin
called Kokumuo that alerted Zyre to the attempt at deception. The
ebony Ancient had appeared to glance over her, but his eyes were
glazed with the response she had grown accustomed to seeing in
Vampire Aunsin because even the cold one called Galt couldn’t hide
his reaction. The desire an Elf inspired was not always a sexual
response as it was often based upon the need for the warmth of her
persona, the vibrancy of her life force, and the colours of her
soul. It seemed to demons that the magical, particularly Elves,
supplied the missing parts of their psyche that could end the
perpetual war with self. Despite their views or needs they could
never hide the visceral reaction to a creature that both soothed
and aggravated their ragged spirits.