Dark Elves Harem

Chapter 11

“You probably won’t be surprised by this whatsoever,” Keida said as she helped pack a few of Logan’s belongings into the suitcase he’d had since he was in fifth grade, “but it’s a common place for us elve to be summoned. Sin City and all.”

“That actually does surprise me,” Logan questioned the elve with a raised eyebrow. “Prostitution is totally legal there. A sex partner isn’t exactly hard to come by.”

Abina bit her lip seductively. “Mortal women don’t fulfill the same desires as we can, but you already know all about that, don’t you?”

“You’ll hear no argument from me,” Logan chuckled in agreement.

Keida, Abina, and Logan had a pretty simple relationship. They were happy as long as he was happy, and he was happy as long as they were happy. The only issue was that their former master, a elve lord who could summon literal Magicfire, wanted them back, and wanted Logan dead.

And he wasn’t going to let that happen.

Once the elve and Logan had grown their connection and had a bit of time to prepare for his arrival, even Earl wouldn’t be able to stop them. But work isn’t satisfying if you don’t have a little time to play first, and Vegas was the perfect place to play. Once they were all packed, the blonde and he met back up with the other two in the living room of the apartment.

“We really need to do something about that pentagram, man.” Rafe pointed to the large red circle that was still inscribed on their floor.

Logan just shrugged. “I don’t know about you, but if things go south against Earl, I’d like to say that I spent my last hours on Earth hanging out with my friends and having fun. Not cleaning floors that probably haven’t been cleaned in years.”

“Fair enough, Logan ‘ol buddy. Who knows? If we ever need to reconfigure it into a protective circle or elve trap, we’ll already be halfway there!” The goblin giggled.

“A protective what, now?” Logan questioned.

“You still have much to learn, my young apprentice,” Rafe laughed. “Circles are all over the place in the lore of different Realms. Obviously, there’s the pentagram that is used to summon elves, but you can also create ones that can shield you from any beings when you’re inside. Or, you can use a circle to act as a sort of elve trap. It all just depends on what you draw inside them.”

“Very good, Rafe.” Keida smirked. “Where did you learn all this information?”

“Long nights of going down the YouTube rabbit hole.” He shrugged. “And about four months’ worth of rent spent on rare paranormal books. I’ve got it all. Ley Line Maps, ancient Vatican enchantments, realmsology encyclopedias… If you want to know anything about the occult, I’m your guy.”

“Ohhh,” Abina gasped. “Some of those might be useful. Bring them all, and Keida and I can look through them on the car trip and identify which ones might give Logan extra power.”

Rafe scurried off towards his room and then reappeared with an armful of dusty old books. Since it was now later in the evening, and they were just going downstairs to the car, they didn’t even try to put Rafe into his bag. Instead, they used it to carry the occult books, and the imp climbed up on Abina’s shoulders like a Rafeler getting a piggyback ride.

Without further hesitation, they started off down the rundown hallway of their complex. This place always reminded Logan of something you’d see in a cop show when they would go to bust a drug dealer or to scope out some shady con artist. The light gray paint was chipped in a million places, and the carpet surely hadn’t been replaced since the nineties. But it was affordable, and Logan and Rafe called it home.

Logan hadn’t actually owned a car since his college days. As luck would have it, his nice red luxury sedan blew a gasket a few months after he graduated, and he hadn’t had the time or the money to fix it since. It just sat there on cinder blocks in one of their two carports. Nobody had vandalized the car in the few years it had been sitting here, but Logan had taken off the wheels and sold them to a chop shop to help pay for groceries a few months ago.

To Rafe, however, his car was his pride and joy. Contrary to what many people may have thought, the stoner did not drive around in a hippy van from the seventies. His car was a boxy yellow Volvo sedan from the eighties that he claimed to have bought from a little old lady that only drove it once a week. The state of the vehicle itself led Logan to believe that the dealer had pulled one over on his buddy.

The thing was missing two of its hubcaps, and rust spread across the entire bottom of its body. The front bumper was dented in from a minor collision he’d had with a light pole when he was DWB, or “Driving While Baked,” as Rafe liked to call it. Who knew when it last went in for an oil change or standard maintenance? Along the rear bumper was a sticker that proudly promoted “Legalize It!” as well as a sticker of a technicolored pot leaf. They were going to stick out like a sore thumb, but it was the only working vehicle that they currently had access to. They just had to hope and pray that it got them to Vegas in one piece.

Rafe threw open the door and jumped up onto the red fabric interior of the driver’s seat. “Alright, dudes and ladies, let’s get rolling!”

“Uh, Rafe?” Logan awkwardly chuckled as the two girls got into the back of the vehicle. “I think I’m gonna drive for a while.”

“Somebody else driving my Lola? I will have none of it!” Rafe crossed his arms and shook his head.

“Can you even reach the pedals?” Logan asked with a raised eyebrow.

“Of course,” Rafe scoffed.

The goblin clinging to the bottom of the steering wheel, attempting to press the gas pedal with his legs swinging in vain. After a minute of fruitless attempts, the imp sighed and pulled himself back onto the seat. He leaned back and buckled himself in before grabbing the steering wheel, but his rear was still suspended above the seat due to his short arms. The imp pouted as the realization set in.

“Alright, I give up,” he said, scooting over to the passenger seat. “If anybody else gets to drive my baby, I guess I’d want it to be you.”

“Thanks, buddy,” Logan replied in appreciation as he slid down in front of the console. He rustled in his pockets and pulled out Rafe’s keys that he had snagged earlier. He shoved the key into the fob and twisted. Rafe’s car turned over once before it sputtered and died. The imp and Logan looked at each other, and the imp gave him a nonchalant shrug. Logan tried again, and this time, the engine sprang to life with a cough of exhaust shooting out of the tailpipe.

“I bet you’ve never seen a sex wagon like this, eh, girls?” Rafe asked the two elve in the back.

“You are aware of what we do for a living, right?” Keida snarked back at the imp playfully. “Car sex is one of the most common suggestions we get. But yes, it is quite impressive.”

“Thirty years old, and she still makes the chicks all wet,” Rafe giggled and patted the door of Lola.

“Alright, guys,” Logan announced to his friends. “We’ve got about five-hundred dollars in our pocket, a car full of awesome companions, and nothing but the open road ahead of us. Next stop, Las Vegas!”

For a moment, Logan considered slamming down the gas pedal and peeling out of the apartment parking lot, but the lurch of the vehicle as they moved forward reminded him of how bad of an idea that was. Their apartment was thankfully located on the far side of town, so they didn’t have to go far before they were on the interstate headed toward Sin City. Once they were on the road, the two elve stared out the window in awe at the beautiful desert around them while Rafe lit up in the seat beside Logan and kicked back to relax.

“We’ve never seen Earth like this before!” Abina exclaimed. “We’ve been summoned to this area, but our services are normally limited to a single room.”

“My sister is right,” Keida agreed. “This is very beautiful.”

“You know,” Rafe coughed a puff of smoke, “I wouldn’t have thought elves would be interested in the desert. It’s hot and desolate and full of grainy sand and rock. Doesn’t it remind you too much of your home?”