The Complete Gargoyle and Sorceress Boxset (Books 1-9)

by Lisa Blackwood

  Something else fed upon her power.

  Fury engulfed her. How dare it feed upon her?

  She turned toward the great sword at the north end of the meadow and raised her hand to call defensive magic down upon it. Before she could attack the sword, it tapped into her strength, tearing control of her power from her.

  Ropes of fire spiraled up from the ground and covered the blade completely. The sword continued sucking air and magic toward it, until a tornado of fire towered above the trees. With earth-shaking violence, the sword opened the Veil.

  The bright flash blinded Lillian.

  While she was disoriented, the earth shivered with greater violence. It swayed and pitched under her feet. She rolled and crashed into Gregory.

  When the wildly fluctuating powers dissipated, the magic-driven winds calmed. The sword was gone by the time she dragged herself to her feet. It had likely returned to its master to report all it had learned. Lillian flicked her tail in annoyance, but there was nothing she could do now to secure the weapon for the Lady of Battles.

  Ash drifted down, and soft flakes coated her and Gregory. The meadow was quiet again. She nuzzled Gregory on the shoulder, and he loosed a pained moan. After sniffing at his wounds, she licked them until they sealed over. He’d have more scars. She narrowed her eyes and growled, angry at herself. In the future, she needed to be more careful of her mate. He had a knack for gathering stab wounds.

  The wind picked up again, flowing through the forest from the Northwest. The stench of evil invaded her nose. She sneezed and pawed at her muzzle, but nothing cleared the miasma of darkness that clung to her skin and mane and coated the lining of her throat and lungs. Several of the Riven had escaped, thanks to the Lord of the Underworld’s sword.

  Had Gregory been stronger, they would have hunted together and destroyed the last of the Riven. She glanced to the Northwest, uncertain. To let the Riven escape was dangerous. She still had one weakness—her hamadryad. And if the Riven knew about her tree, they would attack her again. But the Riven’s territory was far from her tree, and she’d killed enough of the demons to weaken them. With their decreased numbers, the Riven couldn’t gather the power required to travel by magical means. It should take them at least two days to cover the distance.

  For now, the Riven would survive for a little longer; there was nothing she could do about that.

  Clouds gathering on the horizon and the damp smell of rain upon the wind helped her decide. Her mate needed healing and rest. And they both needed a better place to shelter until they were stronger. When Gregory could fly, they would return to her hamadryad and create impenetrable protections. Once that was done, she and her mate would hunt down the remaining Riven. She prodded Gregory again, shoving her head and shoulders under his chest to get him to his feet.

  “Get up, we need to find shelter.”

  Gregory stood on shaking legs, his eyes half-closed and his head hanging. Sweat slicked his sides in a way she didn’t like. Seeing him so weak tightened her stomach. She didn’t think he was even aware of her new form. Brushing his thoughts, she found he was still in shock and mostly unaware of what was going on around him, but when she started forward, he followed. They made their way clear of what had once been a meadow but now looked more like a burnt-out crater. They walked for a few minutes and came upon a log cabin. It still stood. Only the back of the cabin showed damage like a flash fire had scorched it. She bypassed the cabin, not wanting a shelter so close to the Riven’s territory.

  After walking for an hour, she found a small pond skirted with trees and a wealth of underbrush. Deer and rabbits moved among the trees, unaware predators walked among the shadows. Here Gregory could rest while she hunted.

  He still hadn’t snapped out of shock. Her protective instincts roused at the thought of leaving him, even to hunt, but he needed food to grow strong again.

  The breeze carried a whiff of a fawn. Her stomach rumbled.

  Gregory collapsed among the undergrowth, his eyes closed. He rested, but she knew he hadn’t fallen asleep. She waited, hoping sleep would claim him. When it did at last, she rose on silent feet. She’d only taken three steps when he grunted and sat up.

  “I’ll hunt for us. Stay,” she ordered. She returned to his side and rubbed her muzzle alongside his. His scent called to her. It was hard to think when they were so close.

  He returned her gesture of affection with a contented sigh. His thoughts were still drowsy, blurred by equal parts magical exhaustion and shock from blood loss. Obedient to her tone, he lay back down to wait.

  Chapter 44

  THE WEIGHT OF THE BUCK strained the muscles in her neck, but she tightened her jaws and continued to drag the deer along the pond’s muddy shore. Two more powerful heaves and the carcass landed next to Gregory.

  His nose quivered, but he didn’t stir, and she noticed his skin had taken on the seeming of stone. If she didn’t get food into him soon, he’d turn to stone to heal. And this location was still too close to where the Riven had established their territory for him to do that safely.

  She butted him with her muzzle.

  When that tactic failed, she slapped her tail across his flank.

  An ear swiveled forward, and he cracked open one eye.

  Pushing her kill under his nose, she growled, then slashed her claws along the deer’s soft underbelly. Gregory sat up and sniffed at her gift. Then with a vigor which pleased her, he tore into the still-warm beast.

  The coppery scent filled the clearing, and her stomach growled a second time.

  Licking at his muzzle, she persuaded him to share. When they were both well-fed and drowsy, she lay against him and stretched a wing over him for warmth.

  His thoughts were of love, contentment, and mild desire. He thought her lovely. She smiled at his simple thoughts. He still wasn’t thinking in complex sentences. It would be easy to get him to give her what the Lady of Battles wanted—a child of their union, a new deity with strength enough to slay the Lady’s own twin.

  The Lady hadn’t specified when, so Lillian waited. Besides, she’d rather have her beloved be in full command of himself when they mated. And she looked forward to the hunt, the slow seduction.

  Well, there was nothing to say she couldn’t start now.

  She intertwined her tail with his and licked at his shoulder while he slept.

  When they woke, she’d see how long he could resist temptation. He’d barely maintained his distance when she’d worn the hide of a mere dryad.

  Chapter 45

  SLEEP SLOWLY FELL AWAY. Warmth pressed along his side as the soft, living silk of bare skin brushed his wings. A sweet, musky scent engulfed him. Snorting, Gregory shook his head in confusion. His memories of the last hours were hazy, but thoughts slowly ordered into something he could understand. And he feared to look where Lillian lay next to him. Who had won, his Sorceress or the demon soul?

  A gentle brush of his mind against hers told him she still slept.

  Thanks be to the Divine Ones for small blessings.

  Slowly, he folded his wings against his back and levered himself up. He barely noticed the twinge of stiff muscles. The sight of his lady in gargoyle form held him enthralled. She rested with her head on her forearms, her mane a wild wave of crimson against ebony skin. Black horns spiraled up from her forehead, lightening to a wine color at their tips. Silky black ears twitched in her sleep, and her tail quivered, rubbing against his.

  She’d coiled her tail around his in a possessive grip. The strange friction sent his heart pumping. His wings unfurled, trembling as blood rushed to fill them.

  Just as quickly as the friction had come, it was gone, her tail relaxing to curl around her flanks. He immediately missed the contact. Though at the same time, he was grateful she still slept. If she’d been awake, she’d probably have made the situation worse, given her purpose was to beget a child with him. He remembered the Lady of Battles saying she could be aggressive.

  He needed to get away, clear
his thoughts so he could think. There must be a way out of this mess. He just had to find it. Perhaps he could force her back into her dryad form and trap the demon soul by placing new, more powerful wards upon Lillian’s mind a second time?

  Wings twitching, Lillian whimpered in the grip of a nightmare. A second low moan of terror tugged at his heart. He hesitated, hovering over her, uncertain. It could be a ploy, the demon soul’s attempt to manipulate him.

  Another helpless sound escaped her. At that moment, he realized he couldn’t abandon her—Lillian was in there somewhere, trapped, possibly fighting the demon soul even now. Leaning down, he nuzzled her shoulder. She calmed at his touch. The sap-sweet fragrance of dryad and the warm, fertile scent of gargoyle lost the musky tang of fear.

  As he sniffed at her skin, he shifted closer. Bracing his arms on either side of her body, he buried his muzzle in her mane, pushing the strands of hair out of the way until he’d exposed her neck. Unable to help himself, he closed his jaws in the gentlest of love bites. A rumble formed in his chest. She tasted as good as she smelled. Lillian jerked awake under him, tensed for a fight.

  Purring reassurances, he mantled his wings around her so she could catch his scent. She tilted her head to look up at him. Intense, obsidian-colored eyes met his, and after a moment’s study, she relaxed and uttered her own deep, rumbling purr.

  He growled and took a firmer hold on her neck.

  What was he doing? This was wrong, forbidden, a small part of his mind warned. Another part of his soul, far older and more firmly bound to the Sorceress, rejoiced at her response to him. That part scared him more than the newfound heat of desire. He froze, shocked he’d so willingly forsake his duty to the Divine Ones.

  This was wrong, he reaffirmed, repeating the words until they were a chant in his head. And still, a part of him didn’t agree. This was Lillian, his lady, his Sorceress. Their hearts had always remained loyal. How could their love be a mistake? Did they not deserve a little happiness after all these eons?

  Yes, but this was not how he wanted it between them.

  Reluctantly, he released her and eased away before his baser instincts won out.

  Lillian didn’t seem upset by his rejection. On the contrary, she looked completely relaxed as she folded her wings against her back and rolled onto her side, her tail curled along her hips.

  The pose gave him tantalizing flashes of her body. One arm rested on the cushion of her plump breasts, paler than the darker skin of her flat belly. Swirls of crimson formed a pattern on the curve of her hips like a tattoo, drawing his eye to her navel and then lower.

  A coil of her tail hid where the crimson spirals led. She flicked the spade-like bladed-tip of her tail gently and watched him through thick lashes.

  Time to go.

  Now.

  He turned his back to her and prepared to flee.

  “Gregory, wait.” Her mellow voice slid up his spine, like fingers caressing his skin.

  As easily as that, he was enslaved. The sound of her wings unfurling, the soft rasp of skin on skin, betrayed her movements. Unable to flee or turn and face her, he froze, awaiting her next move. Small, warm hands caressed his sides a moment before her arms encircled his waist, drawing a surprised grunt from his throat.

  “Easy. I’m not your enemy. The Lady of Battles doesn’t control me to the extent she would like.” Her hands slid up to caress the tense muscles of his chest. “I just want to talk, to get to know you better.”

  “And are you not able to talk without touching me?”

  She chuckled. “Yes, of course I can. But it’s more fun to watch you twitch.”

  Her words confirmed his fears. His Lillian wouldn’t belittle his feelings. “My emotions are not something to be toyed with for your personal entertainment, demon.”

  “I’m so much more than that. I’ll not harm you, physically or emotionally. The Lady of Battles couldn’t change what I feel for you.”

  Slowly, an image took form and substance in his mind’s eye. Lillian as a dryad, her skin pale against his darkness, eyes bright with passion, body coated with the luster of sweat. “Even when I was a mere dryad, this is what you dreamed of. I can give you what you wish.”

  A spike of desire shivered down his spine. Worse, he couldn’t hide his reaction from her.

  “Liked that, didn’t you?” She chuckled again, rubbing her cheek against his shoulder. “I haven’t even started to court you yet. How long do you think you can resist?”

  Her flippant tone dampened his ardor. “Long enough to find a way to get my Sorceress back. Whatever you think you are, you are not her.”

  “I hear your doubt. You don’t believe your own words. Why should I? I know exactly who I was, where I came from, who I am and what I will become.” She hugged him, pressing her breasts against his back. Her warm fingers stroked down his chest until she encountered his loincloth.

  Rage flared again, and with it, a plan started to form. He would not let a demon soil the love he and his beloved shared.

  A shiver of disgust crawled down his spine. Hopefully, she interpreted it as desire. His plan required she believe that lie. He disengaged her clinging hands and twisted around until he held her trapped in his arms. Once he had her in a firm grip, he shifted her until her back was to his front.

  Using his tail to trip her, he forced the smaller gargoyle onto all fours. Thrashing and bucking, she tried to shove him off balance. Before she had the chance to dislodge him, he closed his jaws around her neck.

  At the soft prick of his teeth, all resistance melted away, and she went limp under him. He loosened his hold on her neck and then licked at her shoulder. She made a small sound of appreciation.

  Forcing her to take more of his weight, he leaned over her and licked a trail along her spine, then up onto one shoulder. One quick nip and the heady tang of her blood coated his tongue.

  The courtship ritual had begun.

  He didn’t wait for her to recover from her shock before he bolted into motion. If she wanted to court him, he’d let her do the chasing. But he would decide the direction of the pursuit; a direction that would lead her back to Clan and Coven lands, where he hoped to get aid from Gran, Greenborrow, Whitethorn, and the other fae to help trap Lillian. Once she was imprisoned, he’d have time to worry about what to do with the demon.

  Gregory bolted across the clearing and into the tree line. He glanced back once to be certain she followed and caught a glimpse of her black body and burgundy-frosted mane as she raced a hundred paces behind him. Good, she’d fallen for the bait. He slowed his pace to allow her to get closer, then when she was nearly upon him, he lengthened his stride and gained ground.

  The sun trekked westward as Gregory continued the game.

  His plan was working; they’d traveled a goodly distance. However, he detected a problem with his plan. While his injuries had healed, he still lacked one important thing: Stamina.

  Chapter 46

  GREGORY WAS LEANING against a tree for a short rest when she caught up to him.

  “I thought you’d let me catch you much sooner than this. Perhaps I was a touch too aggressive with my courtship.” Lillian’s voice drifted to him from the shadows to his left. “Would you be more comfortable with a familiar face?”

  By the time he turned, she was already engulfed in an intense glow of power. When spots no longer flashed before his eyes, he found Lillian standing before him, naked, all pale skin and beautiful dark hair. His lady. But as much as this alluring creature looked like his Sorceress, he knew her allegiance was to the Lady of Battles.

  “Gregory, I offer what you’ve always wanted.”

  “And what I can never have. I’d be killing Lillian myself if I did. The Lord of the Underworld is nothing like his sister. He has never failed to carry out an edict of the Divine Ones. If I got Lillian with child, he would send every last gargoyle to hunt us down. Demon, think beyond what the Lady of Battles wishes you to be. Can’t you see the truth? You won’t live long enou
gh to carry any child to term.”

  Her lips curved into a smile that spoke of assured knowledge. “The Lord of the Underworld isn’t infallible. He has weaknesses we can use to our advantage.”

  “Perhaps you honestly can’t grasp what I truly want.”

  “Your Sorceress.” She tilted her head to the side, no longer looking so haughty. “Perhaps the Lady of Battles made a mistake when she created me. A gentler being, one who needed your protection, might have had an easier time seducing you.”

  He laughed, the sound cold and humorless. “A gentler demon?”

  “You’ll find I’m very adaptable... and I already know your greatest weakness.”

  “You don’t know me.” He turned and loped away from her.

  “Gregory, once I have fulfilled my duty, I will return to the battle goddess and this body will revert to the personality you know and fell in love with: your beloved dryad.”

  After snorting bitterly, he challenged her lie. “Nothing a demon can say will ever change my mind.”

  He whirled back around to face her, angry enough to confront her in battle.

  “Ah, it was a slim hope. But I see you’re not interested in the easy path.” She smiled as she combed her fingers through her hair. The dark strands fanned out across her shoulders and drifted down over her breasts. She toyed with her hair a moment more, then caressed the upper swell of one breast. The fingers of her other hand trailed leisurely down her abdomen. “That suits me well enough. I like the hunt. And perhaps you will like—”

  The creature controlling Lillian’s body stiffened. Color drained from her skin. She sucked in a ragged breath—one of pain, not pleasure. When he glanced up to her face, he saw her eyes held the unfocused look of deep concentration.

  “Lillian?” he whispered. A small spark of hope kindled in his chest. “My Sorceress, can you hear me?”

  Lillian opened her mouth and screamed, a sound of horror and despair. She grasped at her side as a wound opened up under her hands, blood gushing from between her fingers. Moaning in pain, she slowly collapsed to her knees.