Vampiris Sancti: The Elf Read Online Free PDF

Vampire, moved past her with a
confident stride. From various roofs Zyre followed the pair down
narrow inner city streets watching the Tyro chase him to a door
with a blue neon sign above it.
    She had seen
the glowing letters above the doorways of these clubs before as
they were scattered about the inner recesses of the city. These
were the Vampire meeting places, their clubs and social outlets,
but an unclaimed Tyro wouldn’t be aware of the purpose of their
existence. Her choices being no longer her own and in the clutches
of her needs the Vampire was drawn to the silent pulsation—the
primeval throb of her own kind. Zyre could have dissolved before
her and ended the girl’s confusion, but the outcome of this
Unveiling was not of her concern, live or die, it wasn’t her
obligation to interfere.
    The doorway was
guarded by two guards that the Elf recognised as Verkja, hired by
the Vampires as guards and bouncers. The Tyro paused at the end of
the lane and Zyre wondered if she understood the unease they
inspired was because they were demon. The guards stood silently
under the glowing sign as others pushed the doors open to disappear
into the depths within. The Verkja were poor cousins to the elite
Varkja, the security of the Martyc Empire, often seeking employment
in the same realms to be near their kin. Unable to obtain prestige
on their own due to their lack of intelligence, loyalty, and
competence, they skated on the coattails of their formidable
relations. Unlike their cousins, their skin was marred by only the
ghost of a grey sheen, and they could pass as almost human even in
daylight. Their formidable bulk reminiscent of the Varkja gave them
work as guards, but they never made the status of their silver
skinned relatives.
    She could feel
the fear of the girl rushing into the air, and instead of seeking
the protection of the club, she returned to the streets. Believing
they were alone again, the Verkja fell into the absurd boasting
that was the undoing of their race as one lifted his sleeve to
reveal a garish tattoo.
    “See this—it is
so deep it was etched onto my bones!” He boasted in Giryg.
    The one next to
him pulled down his own collar to show another lurid drawing, “That
is nothing, see here—it is red because my blood runs through
it!”
    Zyre debated
tormenting demons too stupid to notice a magical being in their
midst, but the glare of lights had her retreat up the street.
Vampires were arriving in earnest and soon the narrow lanes were
filled with those seeking to park their noisy carriages. She found
the Tyro racing through the dingy streets and knew it would not be
long before she succumbed to the pain of her transformation. The
girl suddenly stopped as if hearing the thoughts of the Elf, but
Zyre knew already knew of the approaching Vampire. She had caught
his powerful scent upon the wind before he had even entered the
lane. The immaculate being strode with poised grace through the
dark streets for his Vampire eyes didn’t require the comfort or
guiding glow of light. He was beautiful since Vampires always were.
His sandy brown hair was sleek with silver glints, and if he was
aware that he was the focus of the girl—he showed no sign. The
energy radiating from him told Zyre this was a no ordinary Vampire
for he was not only perilously close to an Ancient, but his blood
sang the of the same Old World of the girl. She was puzzled why he
was still wandering about the open streets of the city, wasting his
time instead of preparing. When Vampires were nearly at their
Ancient state, they entered an Ashre—a place of meditation where
they could go through their final stages of transformation. His
lack of reaction to the girl didn’t mean he was unaware of the
drama unfolding around him as his senses would be enhanced to
nearly demon status.
    The girl
flattened herself into an alcove and Zyre knew she was overcome by
the forceful energy of the Ancient Vampire. He walked almost up to
her before turning