Vampiris Sancti: The Elf by Katri Cardew Read Free Book Online

of
them.”
    The barman gave
his stock an uneasy glare before turning back to her, “We only
serve—ah—human alcohol drinks laced with um you know....”
    Zyre did
indeed know except before she could respond the Vampire she had
seen earlier in the lane entered. His presence became a sharp edge
to the room as the double power of one on the threshold of Aunsin
and Old World blood rippled across the atmosphere. He wandered over
to the bar, but instead of taking a seat seemed to look into the
distance as if pondering which chair suited him. The Elf, who
absorbed rather than looked, knew he was not idle. She felt his
intent invading the air as if he was evaluating the essence of the
girl, who shrank into herself her eyes hostile with fear.
    If Zyre
bothered to reflect upon anything, she might have considered the
strangeness of a world that appeared to be short of women, yet
would also disregard the woman before them. Surely she would be
highly prized in such a situation, but the Elf didn’t care to be
privy to the complexities of the modern Vampire world. Her
interests tended to focus upon how to create as much mischief as
possible in the shortest amount of time. While she knew the
Ghuvk—the Vampire leaders—determined life or death for others, she
didn’t investigate them for politics, of any realm, bored her.
    The Vampire
moved on as if the act of deciding was too exhausting to
contemplate and his departure left the barman shuffling with
uncertainty. The girl fixed him with a glare of suspicion before
suddenly becoming besieged by some internal agony. She gripped
herself in an embrace of desperation causing the barman to move
swiftly and he placed a thick glass goblet in front of her. Even
from across the bar the contents revolted the Elf who shimmered
about the edges creating a vision that fascinated those watching.
The subject of her scrutiny was too engrossed in her own personal
pain to notice the magical being watching her anguish with aloof
interest.
    The girl shook
her head at the offering and he leaned forward to whisper, “Drink
this, it will ease the pain.”
    She turned
away, but another shiver passed through her body causing her to
withdraw.
    The Tyro held
onto herself with tight misery and he insisted, “Take it.”
    She lifted the
goblet with shaking hands and took a tentative sip, which turned
into a gulp before she quickly devoured the contents in one long
drink. No sooner than she had finished drinking when the newly fed
virus completed the change as it rushed through her veins and the
fresh pink flush of her skin announced her Vampire heritage. Zyre
knew the mug contained a mixture of blood and wine, so she found
herself both disgusted and intrigued by the effect the first drink
had upon on the girl. After the glow of blood, the girl attempted
to stand except her legs wobbled under her and she turned to the
barman in accusation. Her distress had her stagger against the bar
and she held onto it while a room feigning disinterest watched her
struggle.
    Her eyes were
dark with fury as she glared at the barman in accusation.
“Poison...you poisoned....”
    Using the last
of her energy she stumbled through the doorway and the cold rush of
air told Zyre it was the exit back onto the street. Curiosity, the
killer of cats and nemesis of Elves, had Zyre follow the Vampire
back into the dark. Her obsession left a preoccupied Elf
unobservant to the pursuit of a newly arrived Varkja.
    This demon was
from a mercenary world that specialised in security for the Martyc
Empire, the only ones rich enough to afford their discreet
protection. With silver skin and hair—the Varkja blended poorly
into the human landscape and were mainly relegated to night duties.
The Varkja were the eyes of the Martyc upon the street,
intelligent, muscular warriors that could remove or fight just
about anything.
    Looking for
privacy, or perhaps sanctuary, the girl continued down a side
passage until she reached a dead end littered with the