Elfin Blood

By Gracen Miller

Scorned by her own kind for her mixed-breed elf status, Julija lives a lonely existence as an outcast among her Ivory elf kin. When a magical book in elfin lore is stolen, she’s directed by her King to retrieve the book. Little of the heist goes as planned, and nothing about the vampire is as it appears.

Landau is fascinated by the elf stalking him and baffled by the hunger she elicits from him after ten thousand years of celibacy. Discovering she’s a pawn in a dangerous game orchestrated by none other than his reviled enemy, he’s determined to thwart their plans to pilfer the Book from his control.

When truths are revealed, Julija and Landau must decide if what the heart desires is more important than bloodlines.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Bama Girl Press, LLC
• Release date: Aug 20, 2015
• ISBN: 9781513013398

Gracen Miller

Gracen is a hopeless daydreamer masquerading as a “normal” person in southern society. When not writing, she’s a full-time basketball/football/guitar mom for her two sons and a devoted wife to her real-life hero-husband. She’s addicted to writing, paranormal romance novels and movies, Alabama football and coffee...addictions are not necessarily in order of priority. She is convinced coffee is nectar from the gods and blending coffee and writing together generates the perfect creative merger. Many of her creative worlds are spawned from coffee highs.

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The unauthorized reproduction or distribution of this copyrighted work is illegal. Criminal copyright infringement (including infringement without monetary gain) is investigated by the FBI and is punishable by up to 5 years in federal prison and a fine of $250,000.

This book is a work of fiction.  Names, characters, places, and incidents are the products of the author’s imagination or used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

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Elfin Blood

Copyright 2012 by Gracen Miller

2nd Edition 2015 by Gracen Miller

Published by Gracen Miller

Look for me online at:

www.gracen-miller.com

Cover art designed by No Sweat Graphics by Rachel A Olson

Copyright © shutterstock.com/coka

Interior formatted and designed by Gracen Miller

Copyright © shutterstock.com/JungleOutThere

Edited by Amanda Wimer

The author acknowledges the copyrighted or trademarked status and trademark owners of the following wordmarks mentioned in this work of fiction: Batman, Gotham, Fort Knox, and any and all others that I might’ve missed.

All rights reserved as permitted under the U.S. Copyright Act of 1976. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, transmitted in any form or by any means, or stored in a database or retrieval system, without the prior permission of the Author. For information regarding subsidiary rights, please contact the Publisher.

Manufactured in the United States of America

First Paperback Edition: August 2014

ISBN-13: 978-1494939854

ISBN-10: 1494939851

DEDICATION

To all my readers... y’all are amazeballs and my rock stars! I love and appreciate each of you.

ONE

Julija squinted against the sun’s harsh rays. Not even her dark tinted sunglasses cut the glare. The frames slid down her sweat-slick nose annoying her with their repetitive skate.

Damn this Southern heat!

Wishing she was traipsing through her favorite glen, she once again shoved the shades up and looked around, her impatience rising. For the fifth time in as many minutes, she glanced at her watch. Two minutes left. She resettled her focus on the odd-looking house across the street.

The structure looked more like a haunted house than an actual home and gave her the creeps. It was too gothic, too dark, and contrary to her light-imbued life. Oh how she missed frolicking with the animals in the woods where she lived.

Sighing, she fixated on the residence, noting the minute details. Made from slate, the house reached high into the sky like a castle with domed ceilings. Gargoyles carved from stone rested above the windows, as if offering protection from demonic entities. With a vampire in residence, perhaps they did.

She shuddered to think of it as a home, but the richest, most powerful man in the city of Veil—Landau Jamieson the IV or V or something obnoxious like that—considered it just that...home. The man was the sole reason she stood there, or rather the vampire disguised as a man was the sole reason. Ironically the city’s residents considered him royalty. Hell, more like Batman of Gotham in these parts.

Priceless. Absolutely priceless that humanity venerates a leech.

For no purpose other than to humor herself, Julija rolled her eyes beneath the thick shades. Had mankind been privy to Landau’s species, they would’ve feared him instead of admiring him. Proof money talked.

The vampire had stolen the Ivory Elfin Book of Lore. The ancient tome detailed every creature in existence, including the fey, and had been entrusted to the elves at the dawn of creation. Whoever possessed the Book also possessed great knowledge, expertise that could be dangerous in the wrong hands. Ownership of the Book also ensured dominance, and that was a supremacy no vampire should be allowed to keep.

For a week now, Julija had watched Landau in an effort to gauge the best time to strike. Failure was not an option for the best thief among the elves. Her talent had served her people well, even if they weren’t aware of all of her covert operations. Elves were renowned for their light step, and it just so happened her fingers were stickier than most of her kind.

Security systems could not deter her because her magic could nix the best system in the world.

She would retrieve the Book, once she figured out how to bypass the perceptive vampire and his minions. One thing continued to puzzle her...how had the vampire stolen it to begin with when only elf Royals could physically touch it? A huge dilemma for her since she was a half-breed without family ties and not of the royal elf lineage.

Her best chance to retrieve the Book would be in two days when the vampire attended the depot dedication of Veil’s newly renovated train station. Feeling melodramatic about the event, she rolled her eyes again. How humans loved to waste money. They were a frivolous lot and confused her. The homeless lived near the train station, beneath the bridges in cardboard boxes. Died there too, while the station went through elaborate renovations to entertain the wealthy and elite. At least elves took care of their own, even disgraceful half-breeds like her.

Julija glanced at her watch as the black limousine rolled to a halt in front of the vampire’s home. Like clockwork, the man left for work every day at the same hour. She liked creatures of habit. They made her job easier to plot out.

The vampire in question strode about as blatant as he pleased in daylight.

Daylight! Not only did that appall her, but it concerned her too because sunlight was supposed to be toxic to his species. But that was of no consequence since she’d do a little breaking and entering while he was away from his house. No...the Book remained her sole priority.

She shook her head and sighed. His lack of allergen to sunlight was a minor inconvenience, but she couldn’t dismiss how his difference bothered her. Vampires were supposed to vaporize in direct daylight. When the supernatural failed to follow the standard rules, she worried.

Each step he took reeked of his cocky arrogance. While she pondered how he managed to keep from melting beneath the sun, he lifted his head. Their gazes locked.

Cool as ice, and trained for confrontations, she returned his regard. While not the most skilled fighter, she possessed some ability in that area.

Landau’s dark-blond hair fell across his forehead, curled around his ears, and gleamed like gold beneath the bright sun. That is a bit romanticized. Frustrated with herself, she noted his tall frame, at least six foot and built like a brick shit house. He wore his charcoal-gray business suit with all the grace of a cover model. The cut spoke of wealth—not money, but wealth. There was a difference in the mortal world.

Even from this distance, he oozed pheromones and drew her like a narcotic designed specifically for her DNA. That could be dangerous for her elfin libido, which was inordinately high in comparison to other fey creatures.

The vampire tossed her a crooked grin and tilted his head before sliding into the back seat, leaving little question he’d spotted her. Feeling as if he’d just challenged her with the grin, she remained unmoving while her heart pounded in her chest, and his limo departed.

Perfect. He knows he’s being watched.

Julija yanked the shades off and tossed them against the pavement. A sunglass leg went flying as they clattered across the hot surface.

Taking a deep breath to stabilize her frustration, she studied his kingdom. Although Landau was gone from the residence, he hadn’t left his sanctuary unguarded. Oh, no, nothing could be that easy.

Flagrant to her elfin eyes, his home was enshrouded in magic. That little bit of magic indicated he’d opened the Ivory Elfin Book of Lore and was, in fact, utilizing the spells in the Book. In all likelihood, he’d used the same witchery to protect himself from the glaring sun.

The vampire had desecrated their sacred tome, so she’d have to kill him once she had the Book in her possession. A pity because she liked his gold hair.

Julija shoved away from the lamppost she leaned against.

I so need to get laid if I’m squeamish over killing the enemy because of his goddamn hair!

It’d been too long since her last sexual encounter. She’d have to rectify that problem soon, at the very least before she lost her focus further.

Needing to put some distance between herself and Landau Jamieson, she took off at a dead run. But the entire way back to the hotel, she couldn’t wipe him from her thoughts.

Landau flipped his sunglasses up onto the top of his head and glanced out the blackened limousine window.

The woman leaning against the lamppost appealed to him with her fair, almost white, blonde hair. Through her thick shades he’d assessed her eyes to be pale blue with barely a hint of color, rather albino in nature. Her alabaster complexion appeared softer than satin, but held a glittery quality as well.

How easily would such delicate skin bruise?

In a supernatural landscape her skin tone would’ve identified her as fey, but she didn’t feel otherworldly, and his senses were attuned to the higher resonance supernatural species put off. Hers came across as nothing more than ordinary. Coupled with the fact he hadn’t seen a fey species in thousands of years outside their designated realm because humans unnerved them, he could only assume cosmetics gave her skin the shimmering quality.

He would keep his guard up in any case because she possessed an agenda. Either she was a reporter—not likely—or up to no good. Bingo! Landau couldn’t wait to find out the no good part. A long time had passed since he’d enjoyed himself.

Although he’d tried, he couldn’t read her mind. She possessed one of the few human minds he couldn’t penetrate—or she wasn’t human. The theories lent her an air of mystery. Even though he couldn’t glean her thoughts, he knew her mind worked at top speed, planning, scheming, and devising until a perfect little blueprint had been mapped out in her mind. Her eyes were too shrewd to suggest otherwise.

Before he’d entered the limousine, he’d tossed the woman a snarky grin and nod, letting her know he knew she stalked him. That should give her something to think about. Maybe even fret about.

I want her identity by sunset, he told his bodyguard.

Yes, sir, Edward conceded, but tipped his nose in the air and sniffed as if in disdain over being assigned such a menial task. Being an Abecedarian—a fledgling, in human terms—he was incapable of denying Landau’s commands.

TWO

Alberic, the Ivory King—a pain in the ass old geezer in Julija’s opinion—greeted her at the hotel door. I assume the man followed the same routine as before?

Yep. She ambled past him and collapsed onto the sofa. Julija set her feet down on the coffee table, crossed her ankles, and peered up at him.

With arms crossed over his chest, he sent her a disgruntled gaze. Long, white-blond hair fell to the middle of his back, interspersed with a braid of ebony on the right side of his head...the mark of the Ivory King. Alberic looked twenty, but was more like twenty thousand years old. He’d been around since the beginning of creation. Because of his age, he thought he knew every fucking thing about the universe, which made dealing with him difficult.

You’ve had a week to assess the situation. Have you even managed to conceive a plan?

Why must he always talk down to her? He’d used her talents more times than she could count, but he continued to question her abilities. A fact that puzzled her when she’d never disappointed him. Yeah, she was a lowly half-breed and not some freaky highborn elf with truly scary abilities, but she was damn good at her job. Not only that, but she hungered to do her job without every move being questioned.

To piss him off, Julija shrugged, the act disrespectful to his royal rank. The subtle white flare in his eyes suggested she’d hit her mark. I figure the Depot dedication is the best time.

Figure? He arched a snowy eyebrow.

She wanted to rip the blasted thing off and shove it down his insufferable throat.

Yep. She tried to punch some blandness into her tone, while toeing the razor-sharp edge of impertinence. To push her point, she arched her own eyebrow. A ballsy move, but Alberic’s elitist attitude rubbed her the wrong way.

If you’re wrong?

I’m not.

What if you are? Alberic persisted.

Look. She sat up and rested a forearm on a knee. I’m the thief. Allow me to do my job, will ya?

Your approach doesn’t feel right. His tone turned condescending, and he stared down the line of his nose at her. Are you questioning my authority, Julija?

She knew better than to do that. She’d pay with her life if she ever became that brazen. No. She swallowed past the sudden fear creating a thick lump in her throat. Is that your hocus-pocus talking on the ‘doesn’t feel right’ stuff?

Need I remind you he’s elfin kin? Remind you not to underestimate him?

Julija shot to her feet, fisting her fingers into her palms. I’ve never let you down! Why do you assume I will this time?

At her insolence, the white eyebrow inched upward along