With Lillian sitting on her bed, watching him through her lashes, he didn’t doubt he could be swayed from the Light if he didn’t guard against it. It would be all too easy. He thought he knew how the other gargoyle’s protective nature might have been used against him. A dryad surrounded by enemies would be something vulnerable in need of protection. Lillian’s father had probably thought her mother was a fellow prisoner.
Gregory would do anything to protect Lillian. He wasn’t certain he’d have fared any better than that other gargoyle.
A warm hand cupped his cheek. Lillian tilted his head until she was looking into his eyes. “Durnathyne, I’ll not let what happened to my father happen to you. Our love isn’t a weapon for the Lady of Battles to use against you.” She came to her knees and placed her hands on his shoulders. “That’s why you need to put your spell back on my mind. By blocking my memories, you inadvertently halted the Lady’s handiwork.”
“I don’t understand.” There was so much he didn’t know, and he didn’t like feeling helpless.
“Everything you’ve speculated about is true. You were right when you thought of it as my bestial side. She created me to grow and transform into something greater than a dryad. Whatever I become, I fear I’ll be far more dangerous to you. Like a seed, this poor, tortured soul needs me to call on my magic to grow. She feeds on my emotions, my deep love for you. And on my ancient knowledge, growing stronger until one day she will consume me—or twist me into something so different, I’ll wish I didn’t remember anything.”
Lillian paused, her expression no longer serene. Fear slithered along their link. “Your wards upon my memories blocked the demon’s memories, too. And the lack of magic in this realm inhibited its growth. Until the last few days, the demon soul slept, but now she remembers her purpose. I’m running out of time. I don’t know what to do to save us, but I can’t let her harm you.”
Gregory couldn’t watch her struggle, and he gathered her to his chest. He tucked her head against his shoulder and rocked her gently. “I’ll find this dark seed and dig it out.”
The tension leaked out of her smaller frame, and she relaxed against him. “My Durnathyne, you can’t. The Lady of Battles expects something like that. If you try, the demon soul will trigger a spell woven of the blackest of blood magic, killing us both, as well as anyone with the misfortune to be too close. But it will not stop there. It will deliver both our souls to the Lady of Battles, and she will begin again. You must find another way to disable the demon soul. Wrap it in so many layers of magic it can never escape while I live. If that fails, you must take me to the Lord of the Underworld; he will prevent my spirit from being recaptured by his sister. I think my half of our soul would die if I harmed or enslaved you. Promise you’ll surrender me to Death’s mercy once we return to the Magic Realm. I don’t want to become the Battle Goddess’s creature.”
No! His soul rebelled at the thought of handing her over to the Lord of the Underworld. He’d be sealing her death. It would be like killing her himself.
“I’ll need your help,” Lillian continued. “The Lady of Battles will have built traps to prevent me from seeking her brother.”
“I can’t,” he growled as he crushed her against him. “Ask me anything else, but please don’t ask me to help you die. I won’t do it.”
She continued to run her hands along his back, soothing, pleading for him to listen. “For now, you must put the block back on my memories and my magic. That will give you a little more time to try to find a way to stop the darkness growing within me. But if there is no cure, you must take me to the Lord of the Underworld before the demon enslaves us both.” She leaned into him and rested her head against his chest, over his heart.
His hand shook as he reached to stroke her hair. He wanted to cry or rage—anything to ease the cold horror pumping through his veins. “Please, I can’t do what you ask.”
“Shh.” She placed a finger across his lips. “Everything will be fine. The Lord of the Underworld will free my soul to return to the Spirit Realm, and then I’ll be reborn again. We’ll not be parted long.”
“No.” Changing his grip on her, he sought her lips to stop her flow of words. He projected his ancient love for her and his more recent desire until she returned his kiss with heat. Small, almost purring sounds escaped her. Molten fire shot through his veins at the sign of her pleasure. He flipped her onto her back, pressing her into the bed. She melted under him—warm, willing. He shivered at the soft caress of her fingers along his skin, intensely aware of her body pressing against his, how she spread her legs, so he fit perfectly between her thighs. Gods, he wanted this, needed the other half of his soul.
“Hmm.” She turned her head, breaking the kiss.
He growled in frustration.
“Durnathyne, no.” Lillian’s breath came in uneven gasps. “The Lady wants us to get lost in our passions, but we must never forget our duty.”
It took him longer to gather his own scattered thoughts. “You talk of duty and yet ask me to help you die.” He buried his face in her hair, refusing to look at her. “My duty is to protect you. If I break that oath, then I no longer serve any duty. Nothing is more forbidden than what you ask.”
“All you need to do is help me find the Lord of the Underworld.”
“No.” He pushed himself up and leaped off the bed, catching the corner of the nightstand in his hurry to escape her words. It teetered for a moment, then clattered to the ground, drawers spilling across the floor. Uncaring, he continued backing up until his back hit the wall behind him. “Don’t ask me again. I’ll have no part in your death. I’ll block your memories and do what I can to block your use of magic. I’ll find a cure, no matter what. I’m not going to let you die because of the Battle Goddess’s manipulations. Death will claim us one day, but not like this.”
“Easy. It’s all right. I’ll not ask that of you again.” The Sorceress patted the bed. “Come back to me. I want to hold you for a little while before you make me forget.”
A small smile curved her lips as he inched back toward the bed. Her expression softened more, and she motioned him to come closer. Uncertain of the wisdom in getting within touching distance but wanting to be near her too much to care about the outcome, he glided the last of the way to her side and eased back onto the bed. A moment later she curled into him, and her arms came around him. It was a fragile peace. One he was terrified wouldn’t last.
“I love you,” she murmured against his shoulder. “Let me have this one, perfect moment. After I fall asleep, block my memories.”
He held her until her breath evened in sleep, then he summoned his magic, placing the wards upon her mind one layer at a time. When he was finished, he reverted to his gargoyle form and buried his muzzle in her hair.
“I love you too, my Sorceress.” Surely his heart was shattering, it ached so much. The overwhelming need to show her how much he loved her threatened to strip him of his reason, and yet he was afraid. His simple words of love didn’t begin to encompass what she meant to him. He couldn’t fool himself anymore. He no longer served the Divine Ones first and then the Sorceress—he served her above all else.
As a restless sleep came to claim him, the last thing he dwelled on was what to do if he couldn’t find a cure for her. Her death was not an option, not for him. A small, selfish part of his soul planted the seeds of a solution.
Perhaps he could bargain with the Lady of Battles—become one of her army in exchange for Lillian’s freedom. If what Lillian said about the Lady’s army guarding the Veil between the Realms was correct, he might be able to become one of them without completely betraying himself, or what it meant to be the Sorceress’s Protector. He closed his eyes and rested his head on her breast, listening to the throb of her heart until sleep claimed him at last.
Chapter 32
LILLIAN AWOKE TO FIND Gregory hogging all the bed. The damp heat of his breath washed over her shoulder where he’d buried his muzzle in her hair. If she could f
eel that, she supposed she wasn’t a ghost, so she’d survived whatever he’d done. She felt no different than before. There was no river of memories flowing from the depths of her mind like she’d half expected. All those lives he’d alluded to; why couldn’t she remember her past?
But with him spooning her, his wings warming her better than an electric blanket, she could forget her worries for now. She listened to the throb of his heart as she lay tucked safely in her nest. With her head resting on his bicep, she had a clear view straight down the length of his arm. Every few seconds, his fist would clench and his talons flex. She raised her head.
He growled and twitched in his sleep, in the grip of a nightmare. When she turned toward him and rested a hand on his chest, it calmed him, his twitching and struggles lessening.
“Easy, Gregory,” she soothed. “I’m here. There’s no danger.”
Curious, she lowered her shields and reached for him with her mind, and like the few times she’d done it by accident, his mind opened—his thoughts and emotions sweeping into her. After a moment, she sorted through the chaos until she found the source of his nightmare.
Last night unfolded in his thoughts. His guilt over causing her pain, the triggering of the trap on her soul, the window to another world, his love intertwined with bone-deep, shameful desire—his every worry and fear replayed within her mind. And then the horror of hearing her other self say she wanted him to help her die if he couldn’t find a cure.
“Why, that selfish, sanctimonious bitch.” She stroked Gregory’s mane until he calmed. “How dare she put it all on you? Heal me or kill me. What kind of bullshit is that? My poor gargoyle. No wonder you’re having nightmares. That’s a horrible thing to ask.” Lillian mulled over the situation. She still didn’t have her old memories back, but after what she’d learned from Gregory, she didn’t think she wanted to be that person, anyway.
Apparently, she was evil.
She expected to feel something. Great sorrow, fear, mind-numbing shock. Something. Anything. But there was nothing, not unless being monumentally pissed off at her “older self” counted. Then, slowly, a greater concern crept into her consciousness. What if that wasn’t her old self at all? What if it was the demon soul testing Gregory’s resolve?
It didn’t really matter if it was the demon or Lillian’s older self, the problem was still the same. Sooner or later, something was going to take her over.
“Fine. I’m evil. I’ll deal with this, somehow. You won’t have to,” she told the sleeping gargoyle. Leaning forward, she kissed him on the forehead between his horns.
Then, deciding she’d better get up before he figured out she’d learned some important details he’d planned to keep from her, she scooted out of bed. A shower and proper clothes were the first order of business, followed by coffee. Maybe by then, she’d have come up with a plan so Gregory wouldn’t have to make choices that would destroy him.
Hell, a chainsaw to her tree might solve everyone’s problems, but she doubted she’d be able to accomplish it with the gargoyle and the unicorn always on guard—not to mention, she’d probably pass out at the first cut.
Chapter 33
THE BATHROOM DOOR’S hinges creaked as she opened it. Lillian winced at the jarring sound. Gregory bolted upright on the bed, his surprise and confusion evident by his pointed ears and flared nostrils while he took in his surroundings. Calming, he extracted himself from the sheets and eased off the bed. He turned his back to her and tidied the sheets.
“Morning,” she said. Her greeting sounded more cheerful than she’d intended.
He returned her greeting after a short pause. Brushing her damp hair out of her face, she narrowed her eyes. If she hadn’t known what had transpired last night, she would have just thought he was still half asleep. But she knew better. Gregory couldn’t tell a lie to save his life. With his back to her, she couldn’t read what was written on his face. But if she could see, she thought she’d see shame and embarrassment.
She cleared her throat and prepared to lie. “Since I’m still alive, I assume everything went well.”
“Yes, you passed the test to everyone’s satisfaction.” The gargoyle returned her lie.
“Then I think I’ll go hunt up some breakfast for us.” She smiled, a stiff-muscled expression, just in case he happened to look her way. “I’ll be in the kitchen when you’re ready.”
He nodded and vanished into the bathroom. As far as she could tell, he still hadn’t detected her lie, which just reinforced how out of sorts he was. He could normally detect a lie as easily as she could draw a breath.
She fled, leaving behind the gargoyle and the room full of deceit.
Downstairs, the living room was empty, but murmuring voices drew her toward the back of the house. When she reached the kitchen, Gran and the pooka stood close together, deep in conversation.
Gran looked up. Her expression flashed from worry back to her usual jovial look so fast, Lillian nearly missed the slight change.
“I saved you some muffins, and there’s fresh coffee,” Gran said as she gestured absently at the kitchen counter.
While Lillian mechanically took a bite out of a muffin, the pooka edged closer to her. His equine eyes, while not friendly, were less hostile than she remembered. Had she been better at reading body language, she’d have said the pooka wanted something.
“Come walk with me. There’s something I want to tell you,” Gran said, interrupting Lillian’s thoughts about what a pooka might want from her.
Lillian allowed herself to be herded out the sliding door and onto the back porch. A warm breeze beckoned her to walk the maze, but she needed to know if Gran would lie to her. “What is it? Did I fail the test? Are the others going to try to harm me?”
Gran’s eyes widened, surprise warring with displeasure. “No one will harm you, and while some of them are not satisfied with all they learned, we have more immediate concerns.”
“There is something amiss with me.”
“Not to cause you more worry, but do you think you’d still be here if you harbored evil within you? I’m sure the gargoyle would kill you himself if he thought you evil. The Clan is more concerned by the vast amount of power at your command, and your lack of training to control it.”
“Then I’ll be careful not to draw on power when Gregory can’t help me control it.” Lillian’s stomach soured at Gran’s lies. Her family knew what the gargoyle had tried to hide. She wanted to crawl away somewhere deep and dark.
“While you and Gregory rested, the rest of us have been finalizing our plans. If the Riven want a fight, we’ll give them one. The dire wolves think they’ve found one of the daytime lairs of our enemy. We’ll take some of the Pack and check it out. I want you to stay here. There are enough wards on this land to protect you and the other dryads while we’re away.”
Lillian nodded. “What about Gregory?”
“If he can bring himself to leave your side, I imagine he’d like another chance to take out some Riven.”
Gran’s words didn’t ease the tension in Lillian’s shoulders where fear had lodged along her spine. Sweat dampened her palms. She rubbed them along her jeans. Her fingers felt stiff. After a moment, she’d started rubbing the base of each nail and realized they were itchy and aching like she’d grabbed a fistful of poison ivy—or like the time Gregory had been injured, just before she’d blacked out.
Gran continued to speak, but Lillian no longer heard. Something rose within her, an alarm flaring within her mind. Lillian opened her mouth, about to say she didn’t want them to go without her when the ground shook. Nearby birds erupted into flight.
An inhuman scream split the air—high, eerie. Fast on its heels, the low-rumbling growl of a dire wolf joined it. The growl too was cut short, ending in a yelp. Like a river in a flash flood, a wave of power broke across Lillian’s skin. She grasped at the magic, but it slithered between her fingers and raced away. But a familiar scent lingered.
“What was that?” Lillian j
erked her head in the direction the commotion emanated from, then turned to look at her grandmother.
“Jason!” Gran cried, her eyes wide, her features reflecting her horror. “That was a witch’s staff being shattered. The Riven have Jason.”
Such cold rage looked foreign on her grandmother’s face. Before Lillian had a chance to react, Gran was pushing her in the direction of the house.
“Go,” Gran ordered. “It’s a raid. They’re attacking the wards. Get to the house and tell the others. I’m not letting them take any more of my family.”
A protest died on Lillian’s lips. Gran was already running toward the unseen danger, unarmed. Every cell in Lillian’s body screamed to follow her grandmother, to challenge whatever had invaded her home and taken her brother, but reason prevailed. She’d need a weapon first.
She turned toward the house just as an immense black shadow skidded to a stop at her side. Gregory was on all fours, Gran’s quarterstaff clutched in his jaws. He spat it out so he could speak.
“Get on my back, I’ll take you to the house. My wards there will ensure your safety. Once you’re safe, I’ll return for Vivian.”
“No! Go help my grandmother. I’m fine.”
“I can’t leave you. And I won’t take you into battle with me.” He butted her in the stomach like he could physically herd her to safety.
Lillian gasped and stumbled a few steps before she caught her balance. “I’ll go to the house, but you need to help Gran rescue Jason. She said the Riven were attacking the wards. If they breach the defenses, I’ll be in greater danger.” While she held Gregory’s gaze in a battle of wills, three dire wolves, each carrying a sidhe on their backs, ghosted past. “If you go help Gran and the others, you’ll be protecting me, too. I’ll follow your progress through our link. Please, Gregory.”
More cries echoed across the meadow, now accented by the ring of metal on metal.
The Complete Gargoyle and Sorceress Boxset (Books 1-9) Page 21