The Archer (The Blood Realm Series Book 3)

by Jennifer Blackstream

  Mac arched a lupine eyebrow at that, rolling his eyes to look at the vampire. The woman had a kind heart, and was obviously a force to be reckoned with when she was protecting wolves. But she clearly didn’t have a head for strategy.

  Kirill met his eyes for a brief second and then smiled at Loupe. “You’re right of course. Enjoy your evening, and tell Etienne I said hello.”

  Author’s Note:

  Those of you familiar with the Blood Realm series have no doubt noticed that this epilogue was a bit different. Usually, the epilogue is where the Blood Princes have a little meeting with the hero and heroine to formally invite them into the Blood Realm. In the original version of The Archer, that’s precisely what happened.

  Then the epilogue turned out to be almost 17,000 words. For comparison, my average chapter length is about 3,000 words. That is obviously very long for an epilogue so I took the advice of one particularly loyal reader and wrote a new epilogue (which was originally going to be a bonus scene) and turned the old epilogue into a bonus short story entitled “The Unwanted Guest.” This short story is included free with The Archer, so please continue on and enjoy…

  Jennifer Blackstream

  Bonus short story: The Unwanted Guest

  (Contains spoilers for The Archer, so read The Archer first.

  You have been warned…)

  “Robin!”

  Adonis hefted himself away from the bookcase, ignoring the groan of old wood behind him. He’d been using the particularly sharp spine of an ancient book of maps to chase an itch behind his wing, but that endeavor was forgotten as his carefully chosen vantage point gave him the first view of the newest arrivals through the study’s open doorway.

  It had been a few years since he’d seen Robin, but he’d have known the sidhe anywhere. Dressed in shades of forest leaves with hair so blond it was nearly white, he stuck out in the dark hallway like a will o’ wisp in a bog. As Adonis put himself in the center of the doorway, Robin’s face brightened with a broad smile. He squeezed the hand of the woman at his side and stepped into the room to embrace Adonis with the enthusiasm of true affection.

  “It has been too long, my friend.” Robin clapped him on the shoulder, looking him up and down with an appraising eye. “The wings and horns suit you. If you’ll forgive my saying so, you were rather unremarkable as a human.”

  “As are you,” Adonis responded easily. He spread his wings out for dramatic emphasis, the sharp snap of leather giving the gesture a satisfying flair. “It is good to be able to stretch again. And it’s so much easier to find one’s balance when one has the proper number of appendages.”

  His gaze slid away from Robin, drawn to the beautiful woman he’d escorted into the room. Her hair was a glorious spill of color ranging from melted rubies to polished amber. It fell against her neck like a river of lava down a slope of ivory, wild waves combining with ropes of tightly wound braids. Her gown was simple, neat stitched panels of alternating shades of green, all of it held together at the bodice by darker green ribbons. She would have been truly stunning if not for the glint in her green eyes that said she was assessing him for the best spot to put an arrow.

  “She’s not going to shoot you.”

  Adonis glanced at Robin, only slightly assured by the upturned tilt of the sidhe’s mouth and the amusement sparkling in his eyes. “Lovely to hear it.” He flicked a wary glance at Marian then back to Robin. “You’re certain?”

  “I am.” Robin chuckled, the sound moderately more reassuring than his smirk. “She’s thinking about it, mind you, probably has a soft spot all picked out. But that’s just her way. She won’t shoot you unless you annoy her.”

  Marian pressed her lips together and glared at Robin, but there was no heat in it, and when she looked back at Adonis, her lips were pulled into an understated, but warm smile. “Robin’s told me a lot about you. He says you’re one of the few people who share his sense of humor. I find that both endearing and concerning.” Her smile widened. “And he’s right. I will shoot you if you annoy me.”

  Adonis let out a short laugh, but the sound was cut off by Patricio’s sudden interjection.

  “You’re as good as a pin cushion.”

  Adonis’ tail twitched. “Ignore Patricio,” he told his guests. “He’s in a rather foul mood—as always. It’s something you just have to get used to, unfortunately, since he’s not one for self-improvement.”

  It wasn’t the best opening for introductions, but it would suffice. With a sweeping wave of his hand, Adonis invited Robin and Marian farther into the room, opening his stance so he could see his guests as well as his fellow council members. “Gentlemen, meet Robin Goodfellow and his wife, Marian LeFey. Robin, Marian, meet Kirill, Prince of Dacia, Etienne, Prince of Sanguennay, Saamal, Prince of Mu, and Patricio, Prince of Meropis.”

  Robin stepped forward with the comfort of someone used to charming strange crowds and gave an exaggerated bow. Marian took a decidedly less casual approach, creeping forward to stand beside him with her green gaze sweeping back and forth as if fully expecting to discover snipers planted about the place like potted flowers.

  “Don’t be shy, love, we’re all friends here,” Adonis offered, giving her his most charming smile.

  “Are we?”

  Adonis’ smile wilted at the corners. Marian did not look like a woman excited to be invited to an evening with five royals, anticipating an offer few could brag of. Rather, she looked into the southwest corner of the room, her voice cold and level, her gaze steady.

  Confused, Adonis looked to see who had heaped the tension on Marian’s delicate, but firmly muscled shoulders. They were guests here, and everyone in this room had agreed to that invitation. There was no reason for anyone to be offering her anything less than a warm greeting.

  Kirill stood in the southwest corner, directly in the path of Marian’s somber stare. The vampire was tucked away beyond the edge of the large windows that lined the west wall of the study. His position gave him a view of the entire study, including the main door where Robin and Marian had approached from. The fact that he had his back to no one wasn’t lost on Adonis either.

  The fire in the massive hearth threw thick beams of yellow-orange light throughout the room, but Kirill’s corner remained just shadowed enough that he could remain almost hidden and likely go unnoticed by anyone who wasn’t really looking—like Marian was.

  “Kirill,” Adonis said carefully, “don’t be rude. Say hello to our new friends.”

  The vampire ignored Adonis, his full attention focused on Robin and Marian. “Robin…Goodfellow.”

  His voice lacked emotion, but anger glittered like shards of ice in his pale blue eyes. Out of his peripheral vision, Adonis saw Robin step in front of his wife. The redhead pressed her lips into a thin line and grabbed her husband by his arm, deliberately dragging him to her side.

  “Sorry, love,” Robin said, not taking his eyes off the vampire. “Just trying chivalry on for size. Didn’t fit, no worries.”

  “Now, now, Kirill,” Adonis said, fighting to keep the tension out of his voice. “You’re not wearing the welcome smile we’ve been working so hard on these past few months. Remember our lessons, big smile, no fangs?”

  Robin, bless his heart, laughed right on cue. He was the only one.

  Kirill stepped forward, shadows clinging to him like sticky webbing.

  Marian’s bow was suddenly in her hand, an arrow nocked and held at attention. The tension Adonis had managed to keep out of his voice seized his spine in a painful grip. Kirill didn’t move, but his hands were out of sight beneath his cloak and Adonis knew he had enough weapons on him to make the rest of this evening very, very unpleasant. And he’d known Robin and Marian were fey before they’d invited them, so there was no doubt in Adonis’ mind that the vampire had iron weapons on his person—in bulk. Cold sweat broke out on his forehead and he took a very tentative step closer to Kirill, ready to throw himself between him and Marian if necessary.

  Tha
t arrow is going to hurt.

  “All right, now let’s just calm down.” He looked at Marian, keeping Kirill in his peripheral vision. “Marian, put the weapon down. No one’s going to hurt you. Kirill just takes some getting used to.” He looked at Kirill then. “He doesn’t realize how very creepy he can be without even trying.” He kept his voice light, trying to catch Kirill’s eye, willing him to understand how very serious he was.

  “You did not come alone.” The vampire’s voice was whisper soft, a cool breeze over frozen tundra. The breathy quality of his voice was almost enough to dull the accusation that flew from his words like a projectile. “You were told to come alone.”

  Robin hadn’t drawn his weapon, but Adonis had seen him draw before. His sidhe heritage made him fast, inhumanly fast. And even without his speed, his gift for glamour would let him conjure an image of himself unarmed and let him hold it before him for as long as he pleased while he took his time. In fact, there was no guarantee that he wasn’t doing exactly that even now…

  Adonis’ wings itched and his tail lashed from side to side behind him. “Robin.” He kept his voice quiet, as if talking too loudly would cast them off the ledge into chaos. “Is there something you’d like to tell me?”

  For one horrible second, Adonis thought Marian would release her arrow, take her shot and flee, dragging Robin after her. There was that sort of tension in her muscles, a deer preparing for flight from a predator. But then Robin’s shoulders sagged and he rested a hand on Marian’s shoulder, nodding for her to lower her bow. She clenched her teeth, but nodded, once, and the bow fell to her side.

  “The King of the Sluagh had Marian. He was within his rights to keep her, and I didn’t have a prayer of getting into his court. I needed help, and there was only one person who could help me.” Robin looked at Adonis then, met his eyes, and there was a plea there. “You know how she is.”

  Adonis closed his eyes, his wings wilting until they brushed the thick carpet. “Oh, Robin…”

  “All right, what exactly is going on here?”

  Etienne’s voice held a level of exasperation that suggested he’d been holding the question in for awhile now. The werewolf was fully dressed, always a blessing and a surprise, though his shoulder length brown hair maintained the wind-blown look that resisted all attempts to brush it into submission. His dark blue waistcoat and tailored tan trousers would have made him the epitome of a Sanguennayan gentlemen if he wasn’t scowling like someone had tugged his tail.

  “What is going on here, is that the man Adonis invited—the man he vouched for—has broken a rather important rule.” Kirill’s voice dropped so far it was a wonder a layer of frost didn’t form on his lips as he spoke. “The sidhe has brought in someone of his own volition—someone who was not invited.”

  Feathers rustled as Patricio’s giant white wings brushed the bookcase he was leaning against. “I don’t see anyone.”

  The angel was only a few feet to the left of the fireplace, but his grand seven-foot height put him at the border of the light’s reach, casting half his face in shadow. It gave him a hellish look that might have amused Adonis if he wasn’t so concerned with the massive sword strapped to Patricio’s hip. The blade was nearly the length of his leg, and probably could have made quick work out of decapitating their fey guests even if it wasn’t made of iron. Which it was.

  Adonis crossed his fingers. He knew whom Robin had brought, and if the angel’s sense for sinners applied to sidhe… Well, it wouldn’t do for him to eat Robin’s foster mother. Healthy relationships just didn’t start that way.

  “You do not see me, because my foster son is unrivaled in the area of glamour—and that includes veils.”

  Adonis’ fingers turned white as he crossed them harder. The woman’s voice had come from Robin’s side, the opposite side from Marian. A red flush tinged Robin’s pale cheeks and he cleared his throat before flicking a finger over the apparently empty space. A tingle of magic kissed the room and then suddenly there was a woman standing beside the fey couple.

  The Queen of Air and Darkness.

  Ruler of the Unseelie Court.

  Dubheasa.

  She was a tall woman, of equal height to her foster son. Her skin held the stark silvery glow of freshly minted coins, accenting her obsidian eyes and crimson lips. Her dress was a bold display of her power, a collection of shadows concentrated into a ball gown that cradled her bare shoulders and swirled about her like a living fog. She beamed at Adonis, revealing a row of perfect white teeth, and lifted a slim, pale hand. Adonis took it immediately, dropping a kiss onto the back of her fingers.

  “Your Majesty, a pleasure to meet you in person.” He smiled at her, pleased he could do so with genuine pleasure despite the unfortunate circumstances surrounding their meeting. “Robin speaks of you often.”

  “Does he?”

  Dubheasa’s voice was pleasant, but she wasn’t looking at Adonis. She was staring at the only person in the room who had yet to speak. Her eyes had sharpened, and her lips parted. It was unnerving, and Adonis had the sudden urge to step back and give her an uninterrupted view of the man who had snared her attention so completely. Being a demon who liked his horns where they were, he gave into that urge.

  “So it is true,” Dubheasa breathed. “You do count a death god among you.”

  Saamal met Dubheasa’s gaze with characteristic serenity. He sat in a large wingback chair near the fireplace, a vantage point that gave him an easy view of all the room’s occupants. The god’s eyes were not so much black as they were pits, bottomless wells of shadow that reflected no light. During rare cases of heightened emotion, or demonstrations of his considerable power, that bottomless darkness would swallow the whites of his eyes as well. Adonis had only seen it happen a few times, and it wasn’t an experience he was too keen on repeating.

  In one hand the god held a glass of red wine. He swirled it gently, letting the crystal catch the firelight and turn it to burning shards of orange and gold. “Your Majesty. Welcome to our humble abode. I have heard much about you.”

  “And I you.” Dubheasa stepped closer to Saamal, her focus so intense as to suggest that for now, everyone else in the room had ceased to exist. “I am a great admirer of your work.” She paused, a line appearing between her thin, arching eyebrows. “Your earlier work. Lately you’ve been rather tame, if you want to know the truth.”

  Saamal continued swirling his wine, the liquid clinging to the sides of the glass in blood red streaks. “Have I?”

  The queen bobbed her head without hesitation, meandering around the couch between Saamal’s chair and the line of windows. “Oh, yes. It was understandable when your lovely bride to be was under the curse—far be it for me to fault someone for being a little boring while half their energy is going to keeping someone else alive.” She dropped down into the matching wingback chair directly beside him, her shadowy skirts writhing around her.

  “But she’s awake now,” Dubheasa continued, “and far from being a drain on your power, she’s come into her own, returning not only your power, but lending you hers as well.” She sat back in the chair, drumming her fingers on the arm as she considered Saamal. She looked like someone who’d just purchased a new painting and found she didn't like it as much as when she chose it. “I had hoped to see grand things from you, but you continue to disappoint.”

  Saamal tilted his head, one eyebrow rising slightly in amusement. “I’m sorry to hear that, Your Majesty. I can only hope your disappointment does not continue moving into the future.”

  A memory popped into Adonis’ head. The last meeting the council had held to invite a couple into the realm, a pirate and his wife the voodoo queen. The pirate had a deep-seated mistrust of deities, and he’d been none too pleased to find out Saamal held a contract of service over him. The ensuing confrontation had been far too memorable. Images danced through Adonis’ consciousness. Saamal standing before the pirate, his power soaking into the room like alcohol into the bloodstream. An im
promptu demonstration of why they called him the Jaguar King and the Black God.

  For just a moment, everyone in the room had been reminded that the man who’d always been the calmest, most level-headed among them, was in fact a deity who had overseen human sacrifice for more years than any of them had been alive—combined.

  If the tension in the room was anything to judge by, Adonis wasn’t the only one reflecting on the brief change in Saamal. Robin shifted his weight, moving closer to Marian without actually getting in front of her. Etienne’s brown eyes had grown lighter, not quite the gold of his wolf form, but growing closer. Patricio’s hand dropped to the hilt of his sword, toying with the end of the metal in a way he was prone to when he was thinking of beheading someone. Kirill was as silent as the grave and at some point he’d stepped back into his corner, melting into the shadows.

  “Oh dear, death god, I do believe you’ve frightened them rather badly.” Dubheasa raised her hands, fluttered her fingers against each other with a nervous energy that said she’d barely refrained from clapping. “Is it possible that I’ve missed something? Have you been terribly naughty?” Her attention bounced around the room like a child’s whose parents had told her someone in the room has her birthday present.

  Adonis dug deep, found his voice. “Nonsense, no one here is frightened of Saamal, my goodness.” The drink table beckoned to him from its little niche on the right side of the fireplace. Whiskey twinkled like liquid gold in the firelight, promising laughter and good times. “What a rubbish host I am,” he said, perhaps a little too loudly. He turned to Robin and Marian and gestured to the couch that sat opposite the wingback chairs where Saamal and Dubheasa were seated. “Where are my manners? Please, come in, have a seat. Let me get you a drink.”

  Robin, bless his heart, took the hint. “That sounds lovely, a drop of the creature is the very thing needed on this chilly night.” He put a hand on the small of Marian’s back, urging her forward. “Let’s go chat with Mother, shall we?”