The Archer (The Blood Realm Series Book 3) (51 page)

Etienne, for his part, looked a little too pleased at his wife’s condemnation of Dubheasa, probably still angry about her earlier display of power over him. Patricio too looked more satisfied than cautious.

Idiots.

Fortunately, Dubheasa seemed to be keeping her calm. In fact, she seemed…pleased? After one lingering look at Irina, whose face was schooled into a blank mask that Adonis was sure made Kirill proud, Dubheasa turned her attention to the only female member of the council who had yet to speak.

“And you, death goddess? What are your thoughts?”

Aiyana drew a slender finger down the stem of her wine glass. Her dark eyes flowed over each person in the room in turn like a black river lapping at hapless swimmers. “This council was not formed by accident. Each man here was chosen carefully, and each woman deemed to be his ideal match. We are each very powerful in our own right. It would be unrealistic to think that one could gather men and women of such strength and expect no…friction.”

The Unseelie queen looked around the room, her expression carefully blank. “All right then. So, Loupe is too busy with her wolves to have an active role on the council and Irina is busy with other contracts. Do the rest of you feel the same way?”

“I travel a lot,” Ivy offered, peeking from behind Adonis’ wing. “I was…homebound for a long time, so I have a great deal of catching up to do. I’m not usually around for these meetings.”

Marcela stared at Dubheasa like a solider overseeing the signing of a treaty, staring at an enemy she’d been robbed of the chance to retaliate against. Finally she let out a slow breath and shook her head. “I’m not a politician.”

“Abysmal,” Dubheasa muttered. She turned to Aiyana, her face rising with a wisp of hope. “And you, death goddess? Surely you would take a more active role in something so critical as the nurturing of a new land?”

“I’m afraid not, Your Majesty. My land suffered a great deal in my absence. I have much to do there to rebuild before I can even consider lending my presence to this realm.”

“Pity.” Dubheasa drummed her fingers along her biceps, brows knitting in silent contemplation.

“You didn’t answer my question,” Irina reminded the queen. “Why do you want an invitation?”

Dubheasa sniffed. “A lady likes to feel wanted.”

Patricio’s deep voice boomed through the large space. “You
aren’t
wanted.”

Dubheasa met the angel’s eyes, the edges of her dress curling up into wisps of smoke that seemed more alive than they ought to. Tension buzzed in a sharp spike, raising the hairs on Adonis’ arms. The angel’s sword remained sheathed at his side, but he didn’t need a weapon to threaten the peace. His utter lack of political finesse and his inconvenient temper were more than a match for whatever efforts were made to keep things civil. Let him make himself a target if he wanted to. Perhaps a good smack from the Unseelie queen was precisely what he needed.

Adonis sank onto the couch, scooping up his abandoned whiskey and bracing himself for the final nail in the coffin of peace. He paused with the glass halfway to his lips, offered it to Ivy who had been pulled to the couch beside him by the wing he still held wrapped around her. She waved away the whiskey, her eyes still locked on Patricio, her breath still.

Kirill suddenly stepped forward, black cloak flaring gently behind him. “Your Majesty, do allow me to apologize for our utter failure to show you the welcome that you so deserve. I assure you, if I had known you would be visiting us, I would have taken steps to make certain everyone had a better understanding of the etiquette these rare and momentous occasions call for.”

He looked at Patricio, then glanced from Marcela to Dubheasa. The message was clear. If Dubheasa got angry enough, if the contract of host and guest was broken, it wouldn’t be Patricio who suffered most. It would be his wife.

Patricio clenched his teeth, but held his tongue.

A remarkable victory for the vampire.
Adonis downed the rest of the whiskey and flopped back against the couch.
I’m too old for this.

Kirill returned his full focus to Dubheasa. “Tell me, Your Majesty. What can we do to make you feel…wanted?”

Dubheasa preened under the blatant flattery, her hands fluttering about her dress like a virgin smoothing her nightgown on her honeymoon. “I’m so very pleased you asked—finally. What I want is quite simple. I want a position in this realm. Not just an invitation to live here, but a position with influence.”

Kirill didn’t move a muscle, his expression completely and carefully blank. “What kind of influence?”

“Well, obviously I will be recognized as a monarch in my own right, for my people.”

Kirill nodded once.

“And I want to suggest candidates for future invitations. I have so many wonderful ideas and I know such
interesting
people.”

Kirill's left eye twitched, and a nervous laugh escaped Adonis. “I’m sure we can work something out,” he offered quickly, the whiskey massaging his tense muscles with expert efficiency. “A suggestion can’t hurt, can it, Kirill?”

“You may
suggest
candidates,” Kirill agreed in a low voice. “But all candidates must continue to be reviewed by this council. Is that acceptable?”

Dubheasa beamed. “Quite.” She quit fussing with her dress and clapped her hands together, holding her spine straight as she gave the room a final once over. “Well then, I’ll leave you to your little discussion with my children.” She put a hand on Marian’s shoulder, leaned in and kissed her on the cheek. “Enjoy yourself, dear, and do join me for tea tomorrow.”

Marian smiled, real affection in her eyes as she looked at the tempestuous monarch. “I will.”

Dubheasa winked at Robin and then swept out of the room with a flourish. No one spoke, no one moved as her footsteps faded down the hall.

A few minutes later, Kirill sighed. “She has passed through the wards.”

Like a feral dog just let off his leash, Patricio stormed forward, blue eyes locked on Robin. “I want him gone.”

Irritation sparked inside Adonis and he glared at Patricio without rising from the couch. “No. He is staying.” He tightened his jaw and leaned forward to set his empty glass on the floor before rising. “Robin hasn’t done anything wrong. There’s no reason to—”

“He brought that woman here!” Patricio bellowed. His hands clenched into fists at his sides, the urge to draw his sword clear in the twitching of the muscle in his arm. “She could have killed Marcela.”

“He had no choice!” Adonis stepped closer to Patricio, drawing energy from the astral plane and feeding it into his physical form. Slowly, he began to grow, bones lengthening, muscles stretching. “He made a bargain to save the woman he loves. Tell me, who in this room wouldn’t have made that same bargain if it meant saving the woman they loved? The man they loved?”

“Don’t muddy the waters with that emotional diatribe.” Marcela rolled her spear between her fingers, obviously fighting the urge to raise it. “This is not about love. This is about security. Your candidate has brought a dangerous element into this kingdom, an element he has no control over.” She gestured at Marian with her spear. “And what’s more, his wife has made it clear that she sides with the dark queen—even against us. If we let them in, then we will be filling the ranks of a powerful woman we aren’t even sure will be friendly to us.”

Adonis stared at Marcela  “They are not a threat. He is my friend.”

“They are a threat if Dubheasa wants them to be,” Patricio argued. “He snuck her in, and Marian stood beside her. Dubheasa did nothing but try to stir up trouble, but still Marian pointed her weapon at us. How can we invite her in if we cannot guarantee that, if the Unseelie queen decides to cause trouble, she wouldn’t be standing on the wrong side?”

The urge to strike out at Patricio was almost overwhelming, the muscles in Adonis’ large hands itching with the effort to restrain himself. The sullen brute never had anything to say, barely deigned to take part in these proceedings at all. He should have known that he would find his voice just in time to block Adonis from inviting someone in, from inviting his
friend
in. A friend who needed the sanctuary this realm could provide for him and his wife.

Saamal straightened in his seat, speaking up before Adonis could decide how much he was willing to risk for a smack at Patricio. “I do not think you’re wrong, Patricio, but I would ask you this. Are we to fill this kingdom only with those who will side with us in all things? No matter what the conflict in loyalty?”

Patricio’s wings sagged, just a little, as he grudgingly tilted his face to look at the death god. “What are you talking about?”

Aiyana took another sip of wine. “He has a point, angel. Take for instance, the
naga
lord. We invited him here knowing that he has a sworn duty to changelings. Suppose he were to believe that one of us poses a risk to one of his changelings?”

“None of us are a risk, we are the ones in charge of this realm, in charge of seeing that it remains healthy and orderly,” Marcela protested.

“And if the
naga
lord were to relocate a changeling here that you did not approve of?” she asked calmly. “Perhaps an incubus?”

Adonis snorted. “Yeah, bird-boy, what if he brings in another incubus?”

Patricio’s jaw tightened. “That’s fine.”

“And what if he brings in Unseelie children? Or perhaps—”

“I get it, I get it.” Patricio shifted from foot to foot, his frustration clear in the lines creasing his face. He looked to Kirill. “You can’t possibly be okay with this. What sort of strategy could include giving that woman any more of an edge than she already has?”

Kirill shrugged one shoulder. “I have understood—as you should have—from the beginning that we would never be able to exert unlimited control over who or what comes into this realm. All we can do is choose our elite members wisely to assure that we present the strongest and most united front possible.”

“And if you think Kirill doesn’t have a list of every changeling Damon has brought into this kingdom along with notes on at least two ways to destroy each one, then you haven’t been paying attention,” Adonis added dryly. He took a deep breath, and when he let it out, he let the excess energy he’d coiled inside himself to increase his size out with it. As much as he might want to, now was not the time to give the angel the thrashing he so desperately deserved. Slowly, he returned to his normal stature, stretching his limbs one by one to get the kinks out.

“May I speak?”

Everyone in the room turned to face Robin. He stood tall, his characteristic slouch noticeably absent. There was no mischief in his eyes, no glimmer of humor curling his lip. He was as serious as Adonis had ever seen him. One by one, he met the eyes of each person in the room, ending with his wife. Wordlessly, he held a hand out to her.

Marian held his eyes for a long moment. Then, after one last glance at Marcela, she came to stand beside her husband.

“All that time holding an arrow ready. Your arm has got to be killing you,” he murmured to her, just loud enough for Adonis to hear.

She leaned her head on his shoulder, just for a moment. “Dear gods, yes. If I had known this little meeting would require such diligence, I would have brought a crossbow.”

Robin chuckled and massaged her arm with one hand, continuing to address the room. “As you know, my wife was recently a prisoner in the court of the wild fey. I could not have gotten her out without my foster mother’s help. My foster mother’s only stipulation for that help was that when I received an invitation—an invitation she knew I would be receiving, but did not tell me anything about—I would share that invitation with her. I didn’t know then what I would be inviting her to, and I didn’t care. I didn’t care about anything other than getting Marian away from the King of the Sluagh. And even if she’d planned to come here and assassinate you all, I would have gladly agreed and considered it a bargain.”

Marian snorted. “Do you recall just earlier this evening when you had your epiphany about not saying things just because they’re true?”

“I have a point,” he assured her.

“So do I.” Marian looked around the room, the bow and arrow bobbing in her grip. “And if you don’t get on with it, I’ll have to use it.”

“The King of the Sluagh is not one to accept defeat easily. He firmly believes that Marian would be happier in his court, and I dare say he will make more than one attempt in the coming years to woo her back.” He met Patricio’s eyes then. “This is the safest place for my wife, a place where she can roam freely about, doing the good that she so wants to do, without fear of running into a man who can force her to change forms against her will, who can order her about like a beast if he chooses.”

Marian shifted uneasily as he spoke that last part, and he held her tighter, fingers pressing more deeply into the massage. He looked to Kirill then. “I want to be here.
We
want to be here. And I will do whatever I have to do to earn that place, to be indispensable. My loyalty will always remain with Marian above all else, but then, I can’t see a man—or woman—in this room who would begrudge me that.”

The room was silent then, each person lost in his or her own thoughts. Adonis swelled with pride, pleased with Robin’s unexpected eloquence and near-painful honesty. Ivy rose and tucked herself against his side and he held her close, his heart beating harder as he waited for his companions to make their thoughts known.

Surprisingly, it was Saamal who spoke first. “That sounds like a wonderful introduction for a vote.” He stood and set his glass of wine on the table beside his chair, then strode to stand in the center of the room, just in front of the great fireplace. “We came here tonight to see if Robin and Marian would accept our invitation. And now, we are apparently the ones faced with a decision.” He smiled at Aiyana and then at the rest of the women in turn. “How fortunate we have our better halves here to aid us in that decision.”

Patricio opened his mouth, but Kirill stepped forward before he could speak.