The Archer (The Blood Realm Series Book 3) (48 page)

“It is not up to you to decide what will and will not stand.” Etienne’s voice was tight with controlled anger, though his eyes remained human brown. He closed the distance between himself and the Unseelie queen, stood just far enough back that he didn’t have to tilt his head up to look at her over six foot frame from his own five foot ten. “You weren’t even invited here to begin with.”

The remaining whiskey in Adonis’ glass sloshed against the sides as he tensed, as if the alcohol itself were throwing up its hands in despair. “Now, now, Etienne, let’s not be rude.”

“It is not
my
rudeness that is at hand here.
I
have a right to be here.” He pointed at Dubheasa with the confidence of a man who had no idea just how badly things were about to go. “
She
doesn—”

He didn’t get to finish his sentence. Dubheasa’s form grew still even as the shadows around her writhed like Medusa’s hair after a cold rain. Magic crackled in the air, and Etienne’s eyes widened. His hands flew up to claw at his throat, drawing angry red lines down the tanned flesh of his neck. His face flushed a deep shade of crimson and he opened his mouth, choking as he tried to draw in air.

“Foster mother, please,” Robin said tensely. He rose to stand beside her but made no move to physically intercede. “We are guests here.”

Dubheasa tilted her head, her beady eyes still focused on the suffocating werewolf. “Am I a guest? I didn’t realize.” Her gaze flicked to Kirill. “Is it true, vampire? Do you offer me the rights of a guest?”

Kirill’s hands were inside his cloak, probably wrapped around some iron weapon or another. He watched the Unseelie queen with the intensity of a lion staring at the surface of a watering hole, searching for reptilian eyes that might warn of an impending strike. He ignored Etienne completely, didn’t rush to answer despite the alarming way the werewolf’s eyes were bulging from his skull, his lips turning white. Finally, he bowed, just a little, not taking his eyes off her. “We would be most honored to have you as our guest for this evening.”

Etienne dropped to his knees, a ragged breath rasping from his chest as he tried to draw air into his tortured lungs. Adonis winced, his own throat aching in sympathy.

Dubheasa fanned herself with one hand. “Oh, you must excuse my rudeness. Naturally I would never have dreamed of addressing your poor manners in such a way if I’d known you were a proper host. You can see where the confusion came from, what with you being such a
poor
host. Nevermind though, I’m sure the women will do much better. For now, you must let me summon my healer to see to your throat.”

Etienne raised his head, and as Adonis had feared, his face was contorting, his wolf rising beneath his skin. His lip curled back into a snarl, flashing teeth too sharp to be human. “Unnecessary. But do feel free to call your healer anyway. She may be needed.”

Robin choked on a nervous laugh and stepped between Etienne and his foster mother. “I’m sure that won’t be necessary, Etienne,” Robin said quickly. “We’ve just agreed to abide by guest-host laws of hospitality after all. We wouldn’t want to
violate
those terms with hasty threats of violence.”

He had his back to Dubheasa, and she looked down into the quiver of arrows on his back. As Robin held out placating hands to Etienne, she plucked an arrow from the quiver and rapped him sharply on the head. Robin jumped, one hand flying to his head and the strands of white-blond hair still clinging to the sharp tip of the projectile.

“I don’t need you to remind me of social protocol, young man,” she snapped. She popped him with the arrow again, this time rapping it against the knuckles of the hand currently covering his head. Robin yelped and jerked his hand away, then belatedly realized he’d left his scalp unguarded. Dubheasa whacked him again for good measure.

“She attacked me first,” Etienne growled.

“I wasn’t a guest then.” Dubheasa sniffed. She started to mold her face into a fair impression of an emotionally wounded female, but abruptly abandoned it a second later to narrow her eyes and jab the arrow in Etienne’s direction, almost piercing Robin’s ear in the process. “I didn’t feel nearly as wanted as a guest should be made to feel. This is just another failure that would not have happened if the women were here.” She brushed at her skirt, idly casting the arrow behind her into the fire where it exited the world with a brief sizzle and a puff of ashes. “I expect things will go much smoother after they arrive.”

“They aren’t—” Etienne rasped.

“I will get them,” Kirill interrupted.

Adonis carefully kept the surprise from his face. Kirill wasn’t one to be ordered around. And he certainly wasn’t one to invite Irina into a dangerous situation, especially not after the whole fiasco with the demoness and the monster wolf. Which meant he was up to something. As usual.

Dubheasa, Robin, and Marian all watched with unabashed interest as Kirill grabbed the nearest panel of drapes and peeled it back with a practiced flick of his wrist. The material billowed out briefly, then settled, revealing a single tall window pane. On the curtain rod above the window sat a gargoyle.

The beast was the size of a small dog, and didn’t look any different from any other carved stone that one might see decorating any other castle. Its eyes held no spark of life, and nothing about its hunched figure suggested it was anything more than cold stone. But as Kirill stared up at it, the horned beast tilted its head down, the movement so scarce it may not have happened at all.

Adonis waited for Kirill to tell the gargoyle where he wanted to go, but the vampire didn’t speak. He just waited, patiently, looking at the glass as if he were having a peek outside to check the weather. Magic crackled in the air, and the window hummed to life with a faint blue glow. Kirill leapt up onto the window sill with the smooth grace of a cat, and stepped through the portal without so much as a backward glance.

“How did he do that?” Robin asked curiously.

Adonis nodded toward the gargoyle. “The gargoyle is a guardian of gateways.”

“And he serves the vampire?” Dubheasa’s voice held a slight hint of surprise. “They don’t usually follow a master. And Kirill didn’t give it any verbal orders either.” She strode forward, peering up at the stone beast. “Are you telepathic, ancient one?”

“No,” Adonis answered for it. “He’s just a good listener.”

“Eavesdropping.” Dubheasa nodded her approval. “An important skill. Well done.”

A low growl trickled from Etienne’s throat, the sound scratchier than usual, every bulge of muscle taxing the restraint of his lovely blue jacket. Marian shot off the couch as if she’d been an arrow fired from her own bow, landing between Etienne and Dubheasa. Adonis half-rose from the couch, one hand out and lips parted to stop Marian before she drew an arrow, before her weapon made an appearance to further stir the promise of violence in the air. He froze as another growl shattered the tense silence—this time from Marian.

Etienne’s brown eyes exploded into the orange-gold of his wolf form and he bared teeth that didn’t look altogether right in a human mouth. Marian answered by lowering her frame, leaning forward ever so slightly. Her green eyes melted under the heat of red flame as the burning eyes of her hellhound form looked out through her human face. Adonis’ mouth fell open.

“I don’t want to be a wet blanket at my own party,” Robin said under his breath, coming to stand next to Adonis. “But this, my friend, is not a good sign.”

“Don’t be discouraging, Robin,” Dubheasa scolded him. “This is a grand sign. I’ve been telling Marian for weeks it’s time to start getting more comfortable with her other form.” She slid her focus to Etienne, the smile on her face decidedly predatory. “Fair warning, Your Highness. A hellhound is rather different from most shapeshifters in more ways than one. If Marian has been practicing as I suggested, she will turn to shadow and then manifest as her hellhound form.” Her smile widened. “She’ll be on you before you can get out of those finely tailored pants of yours.”

“Hellhounds turn to shadow?” Adonis whispered.

Robin shrugged. “Not exactly, but that’s the easiest way to explain it.”

Etienne grinned, a toothy smile that was unsettling in many ways. “If you think Kirill isn’t going to return with more weapons than he left with—which I assure you was a great deal many more than were required for this meeting—then you are a fool,” he breathed. “You’ve pushed your luck too far, Your Majesty. He’ll kill you if it suits him.”

Marian snarled, and black shadows danced over her skin in a shivering promise of restrained violence. Robin tensed and Adonis took a breath, ready to say something, anything, to ease the tension. Dubheasa beat him to it. She laid a restraining hand on Marian’s shoulder, smiled, but shook her head. Marian relaxed instantly, her red eyes cooling to green as she straightened and stood for all the world as if she’d never so much as sneezed in Etienne’s direction.

Dubheasa waved her hand in an airily dismissive gesture. “My dear boy, there is not a doubt in my mind that Kirill already had the means to kill me when he was here. He would have prepared for that possibility as soon as he found out Adonis was inviting a
sidhe
to your realm.” She paused, slanting a glance at Patricio. “While we’re on the subject, if you wouldn’t mind terribly stepping back? Your sword is giving me a headache.”

Patricio blinked as if being addressed had caught him off guard. He looked from his sword to Dubheasa, then shrugged one shoulder, arching a wing in the process, and retreated a few steps to resume his original position leaning on the bookshelf. Adonis rolled his eyes.
Not a civil word to say to me, but all too willing to cater to someone who tried to kill Etienne. Typical
.

“It is good that you do not take Kirill’s…caution, personally,” Saamal observed. He hadn’t moved from his chair, and if the recent kerfuffle bothered him at all, he didn’t show it. “It is rather a key point in getting along with him.”

Etienne crossed his arms over his chest, and if Adonis were a braver man, he would have suggested the werewolf was sulking.

Whatever response he might have had was interrupted by a sudden wash of magic as the glass Kirill had passed through hummed with life. The gargoyle hovering over the window frame glanced down as Kirill passed through the glowing surface, stepping lightly down from the window sill.

He had a renewed calm that confirmed Etienne’s assertion that he would return with more weapons, and when he spoke, his voice held its characteristic cool. “The women will be here shortly.”

Dubheasa straightened at his arrival. If Adonis hadn’t been watching her, he would have missed the brief glance she cast at Etienne before pasting a warm smile on her pale face.

“Of course I’m not offended by Kirill’s precautions,” she said to Saamal. “It makes me feel quite included, really. After all, I would be the odd one out if I was the only person in this room the vampire hadn’t come up with a plan for killing.”

Adonis’ stomach bottomed out.
Dear gods, she’s going to start a war.

“What?” Etienne demanded.

Robin stilled, then crooked his finger at Marian. She pressed her lips together, but strode over to him.

“If you’d said ‘come,’ I would have smacked you,” she informed him under her breath.

“And I would have deserved it,” Robin soothed. Then he cleared his throat. “At this time, I feel I owe you an apology. I can see now that just because something is true doesn’t mean it’s appropriate to voice out loud.”

Marian snorted. “Miracle of miracles.”

“Speaking of miracles,” Adonis muttered, “we might need one.”

All three of them watched Etienne staring at the vampire. Adonis saw the wheels in his head turning, saw him study Kirill with the intensity of a predator contemplating larger than average prey. Kirill for his part, didn’t seem the least bit perturbed at the conversation that had continued around him, nor did he seem surprised at the rise in Etienne’s hostility. Of course, by this time, that was probably old hat. It was practically traditional for Etienne to offer some threat to the vampire. Though, there was something different this time. Etienne wasn’t just angry, he was…thinking. As usual, Kirill’s face gave nothing away, his cool blue eyes as serene as the countryside after the first snow. Perhaps it was that unflappable, unapologetic stare that cinched it for Etienne.

“You did.”

The words whispered past Etienne’s lips, the softness in his tone belying the golden light simmering in his eyes. Tension rippled over his body, tightening muscles in minute, almost imperceptible ways. Then he took a step toward Kirill, and there was enough threat in that one movement to make Adonis shift forward a step as well, ready to put himself between the werewolf and the vampire if he had to—again.

“So what’s your plan then, Kirill? Wait until we help you find the most powerful men and women to bring into this kingdom and then kill us off one by one?” Etienne growled.

Adonis pressed his lips together, smothering the urge to give voice to the thought echoing in his head.
If he kills us, he wouldn’t do it one by one. That would give the others warning. He’d strike us all at once.

“I have no intention to kill any of you.” Kirill spoke slowly, clearly, a voice one would use for a feral animal—or a slow child. “I simply wish to be prepared for any possibility that might arise.”

“Like what?” Patricio hadn’t drawn his sword and he didn’t look angry, but there was something in his voice that said that could change if Kirill’s answer was not sufficient. “Killing allies demonstrates a lack of logic that I would not have thought you capable of.”

Adonis sighed. “Etienne, you know Kirill is a strategist. He isn’t happy unless he has a plan for all contingencies. You can’t take this personally.”

“Adonis, for a demon, you really do have a big heart.” Etienne spoke to him without taking his eyes from the vampire, his posture still tense, hovering on the edge of violence. “But I’m afraid in this situation it does you more harm than good. Someday you will have to face the fact that Kirill is not your friend, not really. He’s taken you on as his little apprentice because he wants to use you, wants to let you be the friendly face to his would-be allies who otherwise wouldn’t deal with him at all. As soon as you cease to be useful to him, he’ll turn on you without a second thought.”