“There are too many. You can’t go alone. We’ll all come with you and face whatever these things are together.” Her power stirred, uncurling within her. At that moment, she couldn’t explain it, but she needed to be there with him.
“Get off!” he ordered, his voice no longer gentle. Fear for her had made it deep and thunderous.
“I will not let you fight alone.” As stubborn as he, she clung to his back, refusing to let go.
He growled as he reached back and grabbed her left ankle in his mouth. With a twist of his head, he dislodged her without so much as leaving a mark on her leather boots, but all the same, she still found herself on the ground.
With a curse, she rolled to her feet in time to see Gregory bolting off into the shadows. She needed to follow him with every cell in her body. Her shoulder blades itched and ached. Fisting her shaking hands, she tried to ignore the burn of power pulsing in her fingertips. Gregory wasn’t the only one with magic. She had every right to fight by his side. Fear for her gargoyle filled her belly.
“Gregory is faster. If he waited for us, more people would die.” The harsh line of Gran’s mouth softened. “You must let the gargoyle do what he was born to do.”
But Gran was wrong, Lillian’s instincts screamed. More people would die this way.
She closed her eyes and sought calm. A waft of coppery blood-scent snapped her back to attention. She relaxed her hands and found she’d cut her palms. Baffled, she studied her nails. They weren’t sharp enough to do that kind of damage.
“Lillian, hurry. Mount up behind me. We can’t stay here, it isn’t safe,” Gran said and held out a hand.
Lillian wiped her palms on her thighs and scrambled up behind Gran.
The elk bounded away from the direction the gargoyle had taken. Closing her eyes, Lillian sought the peaceful darkness and embraced the magic that let her ‘feel’ the gargoyle. A faint, blurry image appeared on the back of her closed eyelids. He ran through the shadows of the forest, his movements as nimble and deadly as if he hunted under the bright light of day.
Chapter 17
WHEN DEADFALL BLOCKED the trail, Gregory bounded over it without slowing. Dirt and leaf litter scattered under his feet as he ran. At first, there was only the Hunt, and then Lillian linked with him, following his progress from a safer distance. She remembered that much. Pride swelled in his heart. The emotion caused him to lengthen his stride until he was flying over the ground without leaving the earth.
Battle sounded ahead.
Cries of fear and grunts of pain drifted to him on the wind. The higher-pitched snarls of death hounds were easiest to make out, and there were far too many of them. Closer now, he heard the gurgle of a death’s rattle. A moment later, the victim hit the ground with a solid smack. More sounds of death echoed through the forest.
A moonlit clearing broke the darkness of the surrounding trees, and he leaped from cover into the midst of the fight. Swiping at a death hound’s exposed belly, he gutted the beast before it knew he was there. Talons, which had matured while he’d slept in stone, delivered quick death to his enemies, unlike the first time he’d fought the death hounds within the Battle Goddess’s kingdom. This time, he wouldn’t let anyone or anything harm Lillian.
He grabbed a beast with ginger-and-black-colored fur by the throat and gave it a savage twist. Claws raked at him, but he fought on—uncaring as long as he took out his enemies before they killed again. With a second twist, the hound’s neck broke. Gregory dropped the limp weight and moved on to the next death hound.
There were several more of the beasts in the clearing, each with thick, black ruffs and varying earth-toned pelts. More arrived as he watched. They far outnumbered him, but he had a few other abilities now that he hadn’t had when he was newly born. While his talons ravaged his next enemy, he released small shadow magic spells of death into its bloodstream. He circled his next opponent and dispatched it in short order.
One after another, death hounds dropped all around him. The few beasts agile enough to avoid his talons tucked their tails tight to their bodies and fled.
When no more hounds came for him, he surveyed his work. He was crusted with gore and dirt. But he was whole, unlike the broken bodies that lay scattered around, pale against the darker backdrop of blood. Some were death hounds, while others were fae he’d recently danced with.
No magic could aid them now.
Lillian’s sorrow touched his thoughts, and when he wished each victim’s soul a safe journey to the Spirit Realm, she joined him in silent prayer.
He was about to continue hunting for the escaped hounds when a spike of fear bled across their link and Lillian broke away. Before he could ascertain the nature of the danger, she was gone.
He roared in fear and challenge.
How had the death hounds gotten around him? He’d not detected anything near his lady’s location. Frantic, he sought to reestablish the link. Panic had taken hold of her mind, and his magic slithered off her defensive mental shields without connecting. He leaped into motion, heading back the way he’d come. With each stride, he prayed to the Divine Ones he would not be too late.
Chapter 18
A MAN-SHAPED SHADOW blocked the path twenty feet ahead. Lillian, blinded by her grandmother’s glowing quarterstaff, couldn’t make out the man’s features. It wasn’t until Gran lowered her staff to point at the man’s chest that Lillian recognized Alexander. She remembered Gregory saying some of her attackers had escaped. She’d assumed this vampire was dead since she’d injured him. But here he was—undead—and much recovered. He’d even grown his face back. Damn.
Two black-and-silver-furred dire wolves circled in front of Lillian and Gran, positioning themselves between the two women and the enemy. While they advanced on Alexander with heads low and white fangs gleaming, a wild-haired sidhe galloped his mount up and took flank. More of the Clan and Coven joined them, clustering together in a loose circle with staffs, swords, and arrows pointed at the surrounding forest.
“Name yourself,” Gran challenged.
“His name’s Alexander,” Lillian whispered. Rage made her voice strong, even as fear sparked to life in her blood. “He led the Riven who attacked me. He wants me dead.”
“That’s not entirely true,” Alexander said with a shrug that stretched his suit across his shoulders. “In my defense, I said I wouldn’t hurt you if you came with us, but my goodwill wouldn’t last if you made me go through the stone ring. As I recall, you didn’t obey.”
“Go screw yourself.” Lillian’s fists clenched, aching for a weapon of some kind. Her crossbow or maybe one of Gran’s swords. Then she’d see if he could grow his whole head back.
“How very original.”
If not a sword, another rock with her blood on it would do.
The underbrush shivered behind the vampire.
Eight more of Alexander’s henchmen materialized out of the forest.
Without taking her eyes from the enemy, Gran motioned for Lillian to lean closer and instructed in a low voice, “Stay with the elk. He’ll try to keep you safe while we deal with this threat.”
“But I can fight.”
Gran shook her head, then tossed her leg over the elk’s withers and slid to the ground.
“What are you doing?” Fear for her grandmother made Lillian’s voice break.
“The elk will have a better chance if he’s only carrying you. Don’t worry about me.” Gran pushed the hilt of a dagger into Lillian’s hand.
Alexander chuckled. “How touching. Now, if you don’t mind, I have somewhere I need to be shortly.” He gestured to the shadows behind him, and more dark shapes eased out of the forest. “Bring the girl. Kill the rest.”
At Alexander’s words, one of the intruders started shedding his clothes. He dropped to all fours and fur burst from his skin with the sound of wet sand hitting the ground. In the time it took to blink, a massive dire wolf took his place. The shaggy black monster lunged at Gran in a blur of speed.
> Gran whipped her staff around. Light raced up its length and launched from the end with a high-pitched screech. It collided with the enemy dire wolf while he was in mid-leap. Magic tossed him back against a tree trunk fifteen feet away. He fell to the ground, unmoving. Gran leveled her staff at another dire wolf.
Underbrush and saplings quaked violently as the forest erupted into chaos.
A dozen wolf-creatures raced out of the woods toward the smaller circle of defenders. The screams and grunts of battle echoed all around them. Lillian clung to the elk’s neck as he lunged sideways, away from snapping teeth. But there was no escape. They were surrounded, trapped with the rest of the defenders, forced into an ever-shrinking pocket of space.
The elk danced in place, then bellowed a challenge and kicked out at an enemy. His hoof smashed into an enemy dire wolf’s skull with the dull crack of bone. He struck out with his deadly hooves again. Several enemies met death under his brutal defense, but more than once, he was too slow to prevent a bite. Blood now showed dark against his white coat.
The last of the enemy dire wolves crashed to the ground as a willowy sidhe woman, accompanied by a massive waist-high hound, took up the fight. The woman cried out a guttural order to her hound. The beast turned silver eyes upon Lillian. It leaped to attack, crossing the distance too swiftly. Its long, narrow head snaked out and snapped steel-gray teeth at Lillian.
Hot breath and saliva washed over her exposed arm. But there was no pain or the sensation of tearing flesh.
The beast dropped to the ground, leaving Lillian and the elk untouched. It sat on its haunches and gazed up at Lillian with a look of confusion. The hound gave a little shiver, ruffling its ginger-frosted black fur.
“Bring down!” The sidhe woman screamed at the beast, giving it hand signals as well as verbal commands.
Again, the beast lunged at Lillian but twisted away at the last minute and returned to its crouched position.
“Bring down.” The sidhe gestured frantically now. “Bring down!”
The beast snorted and shook its head, its long neck twisting to snap at its own shoulder. Then it dipped its muzzle nearly to the ground and clawed at the back of its head. Something small and white glimmered at the base of the skull. The creature didn’t hold still long enough for Lillian to see it clearly, but she thought it might be a giant pearl or sliver of crystal.
“Stop!” The woman screamed commands at the creature.
With an agonized snarl, it stopped digging at its own flesh and darted off into the underbrush, ignoring the woman’s calls for it to return.
“You might try obedience school next time,” Lillian said as she gripped her dagger tighter.
The strange woman whirled back around. Clutched in her hands, two daggers flashed silver against the darkness. She attacked. Brutal, graceful, and fast—her long hair flowing out behind her—she covered the distance in a moment. One flash of silver vanished under the elk’s belly. His bellow of pain was cut short by a second violent stab. The elk took another stumbling stride as the woman danced out of his way. Lillian couldn’t explain it, but she’d felt the woman’s knife sever the elk’s soul from his body.
Lillian glimpsed another flash of silver and pain erupted in her shoulder. The weight and power of the strike toppled her off the back of the elk. Breath exploded from her lungs when she smashed into the ground. Shoulder screaming of abuse, she rolled to her side in time to see the woman leaping on her from above. Lillian twisted in the opposite direction and surged to her feet.
The woman stared at the knife in her hand with a perplexed frown, then back at Lillian. “Why are you not dead?” she asked as she advanced on Lillian again.
“No idea.”
“She should be dead. Why isn’t she?”
Lillian glanced around for a second opponent but realized the stranger was looking down at the blade in her hand, talking to the knife like it was sentient. After a moment, the woman’s expression darkened, and she looked up at Lillian with a snarl.
“If the demon blade won’t kill you, I’ll deal with you myself.” The stranger surged forward with a burst of speed.
Ancient instincts reared up within Lillian, and she used her enemy’s momentum to slam her head into a tree trunk. While the woman was dazed, a Clan dire wolf leaped at her. The two opponents tumbled off into the underbrush.
Lillian’s body ached and her lungs burned, but she maintained her footing, scanning the immediate area and the forest beyond for the next attack. The twang of a bowstring reached her ears too late.
Agony ripped a path through the muscle of her right arm. She screamed and pressed her hand over the wound.
An archer stood off to one side, partially hidden by night. He raised his bow a second time, but a silver-haired sidhe appeared between them, and with the flick of his wrist, he sent a small knife flying at the archer. The bit of silver embedded itself in the archer’s neck. Another enemy fell. The leader of the Hunt gave Lillian a slight nod and then turned to his next opponent.
With a hiss, Lillian probed her new injury. This one was just a graze, a non-threatening flesh wound unless they poisoned their arrowheads.
A snap of a twig told her she’d have to worry about her injuries later.
While Lillian had been distracted by the archer and the Huntsman, the sidhe woman had finished off her dire wolf opponent and was advancing again.
“Well, aren’t you a determined bitch,” Lillian mumbled with a bravado she wasn’t feeling. Fear was eating away at her strength, adrenaline made her muscles shake and her heart pound. She felt lightheaded. Where was Gregory? Please let him still live.
The Otherness within Lillian’s soul, the same being to first whisper the words to claim and awaken Gregory, awoke for the second time. It looked out through her eyes, taking in the scene with a calm, cold center Lillian lacked. It reached out to touch Gregory’s thoughts. He still lived.
Lillian wanted to cry with relief, but her joy was short lived. The power gripped her mind harder. This wasn’t like earlier at the dance, this was primal, all-encompassing power. It wasn’t asking for control, it was demanding.
Had there been another way, Lillian would have fought the power rising within, fearing it more than the enemies she now faced. But more than her life was at risk. Her family needed her. Gregory needed her.
Lillian surrendered control of her body to that Otherness.
An arrow embedded in a nearby tree trunk caught her dark power’s attention. Lillian backed toward the tree.
The sidhe advanced, her daggers poised to strike. Lillian waited with her head bowed, her injured shoulder pressed against the arrow still embedded in the tree. When the sidhe lunged forward, Lillian yanked the arrow free and coated the arrowhead with the blood running down her arm in one smooth motion.
Her free hand snaked out and grasped the sidhe by the throat.
Surprise widened pale blue eyes. Lillian gave her opponent a gentle smile as she reversed her grip on the shaft and jabbed the arrowhead into the woman’s eye. The stranger screamed and clawed at her face, trying to dislodge the smoking shaft. Lillian shoved the arrow deeper, then sidestepped as the woman shuddered and fell forward. After twitching twice more, the sidhe went limp. Lillian leaned down and tugged on the arrow. It grated against the eye socket before coming free.
Immediate danger over, the power released Lillian from its grip. She gasped for breath and fought against the urge to retch her guts out. There was still danger. Her family needed her. With that thought firmly in her mind, she left the shelter of the tree.
Staying low to the ground, Lillian crawled to where an unmoving lump of white glowed palely in the moonlight. The elk’s shimmer was fading in death.
She hunched next to the body and scanned the area nearby, praying she’d find her grandmother alive. But there was no sign of Vivian.
Battle still raged between the trees. Pairs of dire wolves fought to the death, and a dozen or more Riven jumped from tree to tree, dropping down
upon the sidhe Huntsman and his three remaining companions.
Coppery blood-scent and the stink of burnt flesh choked her. She fought the urge to gag and forced herself to focus on the dense shadows surrounding her as a new threat wormed its way into her mind. All the muscles running along her back tensed. Glancing over her shoulder, she caught movement darting between the tree trunks. Alexander broke free of cover and sprinted toward her, his expression wild, driven mad by rage or blood lust. Three other Riven trailed a few paces behind.
He jumped into the air, an impossible leap but never made it to her position. A darker shape collided with Alexander, slamming him into nearby undergrowth.
“Gregory!” Lillian screamed. The primal power of the Otherness awoke within her again.
Shrubs shook and snapped. The crunch of twigs and the smack of flesh on flesh dwindled into the distance as the gargoyle’s momentum carried the fighters deeper into the forest.
The other Riven ignored her, swarming after Gregory to overwhelm him with greater numbers.
Rage and power boiled up within her, and she felt the taint of vampire a moment before she touched their thoughts. They planned to kill her gargoyle and then come back and finish off those still living.
No one harmed her gargoyle.
She sprang after them, rewetting her arrow with the fresh blood oozing down her arm as she ran. The deep shoulder wound still felt numb. It would awaken soon enough, but for now, adrenaline drove her onward, her pains unnoticed. Her thoughts galvanized into one purpose: kill Alexander, kill the other vampires before they murdered her gargoyle.
Gregory had died too many times protecting her.
Not again.
Rage gave her strength, and she ran, unheeding of her grandmother’s calls for her to return.
Chapter 19
GREGORY’S MOUTH FILLED with the foul taint of Riven blood and a darker power, but he didn’t release his hold on the monster underneath him. The dead carcass was half his size, but true demonic magic gave the unnatural beast strength. Fear solidified within Gregory’s soul.
The Complete Gargoyle and Sorceress Boxset (Books 1-9) Page 13