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 wo
o 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.
“Before we vote, I would humbly remind everyone that the Queen of Air and Darkness is already here. Voting to keep her son and her daughter-in-law out would not, in effect, keep them out, but would rather have the unfortunate effect of seeing them here, but put out with us.” He gestured at Robin. “You’ve heard him say that being here is the best way to keep his wife safe. Do you really think he’s going to leave? Regardless of what we say here?”
“He has a point,” Robin admitted. “I have rather already made my decision.”
“We could make him leave,” Patricio growled. He drew his sword a few inches from its sheath, catching the firelight.
“A remarkably poor allocation of resources,” Kirill muttered. He shook his head and looked around at the others. “Gentlemen, let calmer heads prevail. What say you?”
“I want them in,” Adonis said immediately.
“Me too,” Ivy echoed.
“I believe they will be a most interesting addition,” Saamal agreed. He looked at Aiyana, who nodded regally from her seated position. “That’s another two for staying.”
The wolf pup whimpered in its sleep and Loupe hushed it, murmuring comfort. She let out a sigh and rubbed the bridge of her nose. “Let them in,” she said finally, exhaustion dripping from every word. “It will be fine.”
Etienne rubbed a hand over his face, staring at Kirill as if he wanted to argue just because he knew Kirill was going to vote for them to stay. Finally he let out a long breath. “Let them in. The damage is done regardless.”
“My love?” Kirill asked Irina.
“I believe they should stay,” she said, giving Marian and Robin both a warm smile. “And I do hope they’ll join us for dinner sometime soon so we can make a proper second impression to mollify the dreadfulness of the first.”
“Another two in favor then,” Kirill said evenly, staring at Patricio. “Well?”
Marcela looked at her husband, then came to stand by his side. He leaned down without prompting, and she whispered something in his ear that Adonis couldn’t quite make out. Patricio growled, but then sheathed his sword, the movement unnecessarily violent. “Fine. Let them in.” He pointed at Robin. “But I will be watching you. And your mother.”
Adonis relaxed, wings sagging in relief as he patted Robin on the back. “There, see? One big, happy family.” He looked over at Etienne who was still glaring daggers at Kirill. “Er, why don’t you and Marian go wait for me outside? We’ll have dinner. Ivy?”
Ivy nodded and smiled at Robin and Marian, gesturing for them to follow her. Robin wisely didn’t press his luck, and kept his head down as he led Marian across the room and out the large double doors that would lead them down the long hallway and out of the castle.
As soon as the door closed behind them, Etienne rounded on Kirill. He opened his mouth, but Kirill raised a hand, halting him before he could speak.
“They aren’t human, wolf. Their hearing is quite good, so perhaps you could wait until they are actually out of earshot to spew whatever venom you have waiting?”
Etienne looked like he would leap at him then, the fury vibrating his skin an almost tangible force. Adonis watched, intrigued, as he thought he could see Etienne’s wolf roll beneath his skin, the promise of a lupine form just there under the surface. It didn’t matter how many times he saw it, it was always intriguing to see another form writhing underneath his skin.
Finally Kirill nodded. “They’ve gone.”
“Did your ward tell you that?” Etienne growled.
Kirill met his eyes, held them without a trace of shame. “Yes.”
“I can’t believe we let them in,” Patricio muttered. Marcela raised a hand to stroke his chest, curling herself against his side. In a rare show of insight, Patricio slid behind her, rested his large hands on her shoulders, and began kneading her muscles. Given how long she’d held her spear tonight, Adonis could only imagine how sore the former mermaid was. He wondered if changing to her air form would relieve that.
Suddenly Patricio paused, looked at Kirill. “I can’t believe you were so quiet that whole time, that you didn’t intercede, try to calm things down. What happened to your precious strategy, to controlling the situation?”
Adonis chuckled then, both because he was genuinely amused and because he knew it would irritate Patricio. “You really don’t get it do you? You have no idea what was going on. Why the queen was working so hard to start a fight, poking at everyone with a stick?”
“Oh, and you do?”
Adonis smirked. “Yes. And so does Kirill. He saw it right away, and that’s why he let it go on.”
Kirill remained silent, but Adonis was sure he saw a spark of satisfaction in his eyes. Every teacher liked to see evidence that his pupil was learning.
“Well?” Etienne demanded.
“She wants to be part of this kingdom,” Adonis explained patiently. “And she wants a position of power. Dubheasa is no dummy, she’s a strategist like Kirill. And as a strategist, what would she want before she came into this kingdom?”
“I’m not playing games, demon,” Patricio snarled. He must have tightened his hands too fast, because Marcela winced. He forced his hands open, took a deep breath. “Spit it out.”
Adonis rolled his eyes. “She wanted to understand the politics. She needed to know how strong our loyalty was to one another, who gets along, who doesn’t. Who speaks up, who watches. Who leads, who follows.” He shook his head. “And she certainly got what she wanted. All our petty problems spread out for her like a scrumptious little banquet of information.”
“And you just soaked it all up, took advantage of her prodding to gather your own information,” Etienne accused Kirill. His face darkened, his eyes glowing gold. “You haven’t changed. It’s your loyalties we should be questioning.” The gold in his eyes flared brighter. “Making plans to kill all of us. You talk about us being united. What kind of united council has a member plotting against other members?”
“Etienne, my plans are only a precaution. If I wanted you dead, you would be dead,” Kirill said softly.
“I would like to see you attempt it.”
“If I attempt it, you will not see me.”
“Enough!” Irina raised her hands, glaring at Etienne and her husband in equal measure. “You are acting like children.” She looked at Etienne. “The fact of the matter is that none of us can know for certain what sort of person we’ll become. Etienne, we’ve all h
eard the stories of werewolves going feral, killing without conscience.”
Etienne clenched his teeth. “I would never—”
“What if Loupe were murdered? Tortured, killed in front of you—”
Etienne took a step toward her, and in a flash Kirill stood between him and Irina. No weapon was visible, but there was a clear message in the tension singing in his form that suggested it would be in Etienne’s best interest to keep his distance.
“Just the suggestion is enough to move you,” Irina said calmly. “Do you see my point?”
She looked at Patricio. “Both of you have struggled with violent pasts. Patricio, you’ve only just admitted your hunger, begun to own it. I can see you struggle still. Who’s to say what could happen to strain your control?”
Patricio looked uncomfortable, like he wanted to argue, but wasn’t ready for the retaliatory arguments that might be made. Marcela patted his arm, leaned back against him.
Irina turned her gaze toward the fireplace and Saamal. “You’re a death god, and though I understand you come from a different culture, the fact remains you oversaw human sacrifice in your kingdom for a long time. And we all saw what transpired between you and the pirate. You struggled, however briefly. Perhaps having your full power again has changed you in ways even you aren’t aware of.”
Saamal returned to his seat, retrieving his glass from the table and swirling the contents. “I am not the least offended by Kirill’s precautions. If anything I find them very…interesting.”
Irina nodded. “Even Adonis, sweetheart that he is, could be a nightmare under the right circumstances. I don’t need to tell you what happens to an incubus who finds his true love and loses her.”
Ivy squeaked and it was only then that Adonis realized he’d tightened his arms, wrapped his wings and tail around her. Too hard, it seemed, because she was batting at his arm, trying to make him loosen his grip.
The Archer (The Blood Realm Series Book 3) Page 40