Page 41 of Wooing the Wiccan
“I know. Or at least, I know Sam wouldn’t, and I’m sure he wouldn’t be with Gideon if he would.” I hope. “But thereare other demons, and you can’t convince me that there isn’t a percentage of the community that doesn’t follow the law.”
He winces. “I wouldn’t even try. Most of us have our homes warded. It’s effective against human home invasion too.” He glances away, then back at me. “I wanted to ward this house weeks ago, but I couldn’t risk you asking questions about it. You would have felt the energy of the wards every time you crossed them.”
A dizzying rush of pleasure that he wanted to protect me is followed by hurt at the reminder of why he didn’t. Secrets and lies. Just because I understand the why of it doesn’t make the sense of betrayal go away.
“Is it something I can learn?” I’m proud of how even my voice is.
Raðulfr nods. “Yes. I would recommend hiring a sorcerer or elf to do them for you, though, at least initially. It’s complicated spellwork, and doing a whole house would need some experience. Noah would be able to do it, if you get along. Or I—” He breaks off, as if recognizing that now isn’t the best time for him to offer.
“I’ll keep that in mind. I guess… Is there like a Craigslist for the community?” It’s a joke, but he answers me seriously.
“The integration liaison can get you set up on the community web. We use the regular internet as well, but everything else is there. There are several sites for finding people to create wards.” He hesitates. “Or you could ask Sam or Noah for a recommendation.”
A recommendation for a sorcerer to createwards. That wasn’t on my bingo card for this year.
His reference to CSG reminds me of something, though. “So I guess you don’t work for Sam’s government. What does DEA stand for?”
“The Dragon-Elf Alliance.” He takes a deep breath. “I have more to tell you. It’s… I’m sure tonight has been overwhelming for you, but this is likely to come up tomorrow, and I’d rather you hear it from me.”
My laugh sounds foreign to my ears, and he flinches. “Sure. Why not? Let’s get it all out now. Does this have something to do with why you have security?”
“Yes.” Another hesitation, and then, like ripping off a Band-Aid, he blurts, “I’m the species leader for the elves.”
Whoa.
Okay.
I don’t know why I wasn’t expecting that. I figured he had to be important, because security, but for some reason, the idea of him being the head elf didn’t occur to me. “Oh.” I cast around for something to say. “So the elves feel all Zen around you like I do around Sam?”
He blinks, surprised. “Uh… yes. Giving them that security is part of my job.”
His job and hislife. The underlying meaning of what he’s said and what I’ve learned tonight sinks in. Raðulfr is responsible for all the elves. I don’t know how many there are, but still, to have people depending on you like that… it’s a big thing. And?—
“Were you the… lucifer before you migrated here?”
“That’s not— The lucifer is the title for the leader of the Earth species,” he corrects. “And yes. It was my decision to send Caolan here to make contact with CSG. Percy’s offer—he was the lucifer at the time—for us to migrate was an unexpected blessing.”
I bet. I can’t even imagine the stress he would have been under, being responsible for all those people and knowing they were all going to die. A little more of my rancor slips away.
“What is your title, then? What do people call you?”
He shifts restlessly. “It doesn’t translate into any Earth language. The word we use in English has implications that?—”
“Just tell me what it is.”
“King.”
I sit on the end of my coffee table. “You’re aking?”
“Not in the sense you mean. Like Sam, I’m invested by the life force to act as leader for a time. This wasn’t an inherited role, and it won’t necessarily last my whole life—probably won’t.”
“But you’re King Raðulfr?” My tongue trips over the sentence.
“Yes.”
“Do people call you ‘Your Royal Highness’ or something?”
He sinks to sit on the arm of the couch. “Your Majesty. They call me ‘Your Majesty.’”
