The Archer (The Blood Realm Series Book 3)(139)

“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.#p#分页标题#e#

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.”