Free The Archer (The Blood Realm Series Book 3) by Jennifer Blackstream Page A

wrong wizard?”
    Casan ran his fingers over the runes of his staff, his eyes locked onto Mac’s with malicious intensity. The gesture was no doubt meant to be threatening, but they both knew Casan could work no magic while lying in the center of the salt circle. And even if he could, every creature in the forest knew the old wizard was rubbish with any magic beyond shifting. It was likely why he’d been reduced to thievery in the first place. Mac dismissed the empty threat, holding Casan’s gaze without flinching.
    “We don’t know. No one knows. The wizard, or witch, or fey who cast the curse did not deign to tell us, didn’t feel the need to explain themselves, or justify the horrible thing they’d done—did not even reveal their identity. We don’t know why the curse started, we don’t know who cast it, and we don’t know when or if it will end.”
    “My heart bleeds for you,” the wizard sneered.
    Mac pointed the crossbow at him, caressing the trigger with the tip of one finger. “It will, if you do not adjust your tone.”
    The old man pressed his lips into a thin line, eyes narrowing to slits. He glowered at Mac, but offered no further interruption.
    “That’s the problem with magic users.” Mac tapped the trigger with feigned absent-mindedness, taking note of the way the skin at the wizard’s temples twitched with every tap. “You have too much power, and no one to hold you in check. You do as you please, damn the consequences to others. You chalk it all up to ‘survival of the fittest’ and go your merry way.” He quit tapping the trigger, holding the crossbow more firmly, pointing the weapon at Casan’s heart. “Well, someone has to hold you responsible for your actions, someone must make sure you pay for your crimes.”
    The wizard jutted out his chin, but his knuckles were white where he gripped his staff. “And you are that person?”
    “Yes.”
    Casan shifted, then froze when the arrow followed the movement. “And you’ve decided to punish me, is that it?”
    The bravado was still thick in his voice, but there were more lines forming around his eyes, creases that betrayed growing concern. Mac savored his fear, savored the knowledge that once again, a human had taken back some ground, a human had forced some other to face their crimes.
    “I want to know about your encounter with Robin Hood. Where did you see him, and what do you know of him?”
    The wizard glanced from the arrow's wicked point to Mac's cold eyes. “And if I help you? Will you release me?”
    Mac smiled, a real smile this time. “Of course.”
     

Chapter Six
     
    Marian woke with a scream. The sound echoed around her, bouncing off her bedroom walls until it seemed as though it came from outside, from somewhere or someone else. The raw pain in her throat was the only proof she had that the scream was hers, the fear, the anguish, all hers.
    Her teeth tingled, her tongue coated with the memory of blood, the phantom feel of flesh clenched in her jaws. The scent of copper clung to her, a thick perfume that made her gag. Sweat glued wild red curls to her forehead and temples, her skin cold and clammy. She sat in her bed, red and gold brocaded sheets and blankets tangled about her legs like a hunter’s net, trapping her as her jaw had trapped…had trapped…
    “It was a dream. It was a dream, a dream, a dream. It was just a dream. A dream, a dream, a dream…”
    The words spilled from her lips like water from a cracked dam, unimpeded, uncontrolled. Heat flushed her cheeks even as a chill teased the rest of her face, the breeze through the open window beside her bed turning the sweat on her skin to icewater. She closed her eyes and started to take a deep breath, but closing her eyes only made the lingering images from her dream more vivid and she swallowed back another scream.
    Her mother and father. Not her biological parents, but the ones who had truly been there for her, saved her from certain death in the cold