Lillian exited the bathroom, her eyes going to the bed where Gregory was still asleep. Her fingers reached to touch the brand around her neck. At least the bed and bathroom were close enough together the tattoos didn’t flare painful warnings.
However, she was hungry.
But if Gregory was still asleep, then he needed his rest. Sighing, she went to her side of the bed and carefully sat down so as not to wake him. She brushed his thick mane from his face, his gargoyle features somehow less harsh, softened by sleep. Or maybe she was just so used to seeing him in gargoyle form now, she saw the beauty in him?
With him asleep, she could fulfill his need for intimacy without jeopardizing her secret. She curled up next to him, and he shifted in his sleep, making room for her. A moment later his strong arms encircled her, and she rested with an ear pressed against his chest. The steady thump of his heart reassured her, but still, silent tears flowed down her cheeks.
He stirred then, and she felt warm breath in her hair a moment before his deep voice rumbled in her ear.
“What is wrong, beloved?”
Lillian swallowed hard, snuggling closer to his warmth, and told him the truth. “I am afraid for our future.”
“Ah,” he rumbled softly, and she felt him press a kiss to the top of her head, and then he shifted again. Fingers came to rest under her chin as he gently guided her head up so he could look her in the eyes. “I do not know the future, that has never been one of our gifts, but know whatever comes, I will stand with you always.”
He enfolded her in his wings and held her close, but she didn’t sleep. Instead, she looked over the curve of his shoulder to watch the east-facing window. As the sky lightened to a pale grey with a flush of pink, Gregory drifted back to sleep.
Lillian continued to watch the sunrise.
A POUNDING ON HER BEDROOM door jerked Lillian from sleep. She swung her legs out of bed and pulled on a robe while Gregory was still shifting a wing so he could look over his shoulder and scowl at the door.
“What now? Are we under attack?” Lillian asked as she tied the robe’s knot.
Gregory huffed. “No.”
The pounding came again, sharper this time.
“One moment,” he shouted at the door, and then more quietly to her, “I promised your mother she could start your training this morning.” Gregory rolled out of bed, dropped to all fours, where he stretched every muscle twice and then made his way over to the door.
“Why wasn’t I told about this?”
His tail twitched. “She only asked last night. You were in the bathroom. As I recall, we became distracted after your bath. The last thing on my mind was your mother.”
Lillian felt her cheeks flame red. “Okay, fine. You’re forgiven.” Turning her back on him, she went over to her closet and grabbed some workout clothes. “How many of these mother-daughter workout sessions did you agree to?”
“We didn’t discuss an exact number. However, the training sessions will be every morning before breakfast.”
“My God, that early? In case you didn’t notice, she and I don’t exactly know how to relate to each other on a good day. That’s asking a lot before my first cup of coffee. Maybe even too much before a second or third cup.”
Gregory made another of his huffing sounds of displeasure, and then she felt him touch his thoughts to hers. “I wish to study your mother.”
She looked up sharply. “So, I’m not the only one who doesn’t trust her?”
“No. Although, there might be hope for her yet. It won’t be easy and may take years, but I think she might be redeemable.”
Lillian wasn’t so sure.
LILLIAN INCHED CLOSER to the wall as she eyed the dimensions of the newly discovered training room adjacent to the wine cellar. It wasn’t as large as the massive weapons storage room where Gregory and the fae metalsmiths had been storing all the newly forged weapons, but it was large enough to serve as a practice area for normal opponents.
She hadn’t known the massive forty by sixty-foot storage room existed until just recently, so she supposed this new room shouldn’t have come as much of a surprise.
But it did.
Gregory apparently knew about it.
She’d lived here for twelve years.
She bloody well should have known what was under her feet.
“Are you sure this space is big enough?” Lillian asked her mother. Two fully grown gargoyles didn’t qualify as normal opponents, and the room seemed a little small.
“It is fine,” River said without taking her eyes off the weapons rack situated along the north wall of the room. Lillian inched back farther until her shoulders bumped the wall, and she still didn’t feel far enough away from where the two gargoyles circled each other with swords drawn.
At least the branded tattoos were happy with the close quarters.
Darkness gave his two swords an experimental flick. Testing the balance?
Gregory did the same and continued for another half circle. By some mutually agreed upon signal, both gargoyles attacked in the same heartbeat.
This was no half-hearted test strike to measure each other’s skill. They were just blurs of darkness and bright silver flashes where light reflected along deadly blade edges.
“Someone is going to lose a wing, or maybe a head,” Lillian muttered.
The two combatants continued their lethal dance while Lillian held her breath.
“Don’t be silly,” River said in a long-suffering tone. “Gregory is the Lord Protector. He has had lifetimes to perfect the sword. And Darkness was a skilled warrior long before he was captured by the Lady of Battles. Once he was under her power, I took over his training, and I took him from admirable skill to a higher form of mastery.”
Lillian’s gaze left the gargoyles to land squarely on her mother. Of course. What her mother said made sense. She was the confidant, and perhaps protégé, of the Battle Goddess. River had demonstrated her skills with the blade when she first arrived and went about the business of eradicating Riven with lethal ease.
“And I will expect to see that same level of skill in my daughter one day.” She lifted a medium-sized sword from the rack. Giving it a flick, she spun it in her hand before holding it out hilt first to Lillian.
After taking up the offered sword, Lillian gave it a couple of test slashes. It felt well balanced in her hand. She didn’t know the name of the sword for it was of sidhe design, but it looked similar to a Japanese katana, but one with a broader blade and more ornate hilt.
Gran had only put human swords out on display in the house. It wasn’t until recently Lillian had learned Gran’s collection was much larger.
“Vivian told me she trained you in some basic sword skills—something by the name of fencing? Yes?” River tilted her head and eyed Lillian up and down.
Lillian relaxed her stance and spread her feet a little wider. “The opponents wear protective equipment, so no one gets run through.” She paused and gave her sword another test slash. “Gran said it was time I graduated up to a saber, but even so, fencing is more about knowledge, skill, and daring. This sword is for slashing, gutting, and killing.”
“That is a sword’s true purpose.” River made a gesture at the sword. “This one greatly increases the odds your opponent will not get back up to continue the fight even if you don’t deliver a killing blow.”
“It’s heavier than I’m used to.”
River made a delicate sniff of disdain. “You will build core strength and muscle memory for your new weapon of choice. You will master both it and yourself.”
Lillian had a feeling there wasn’t going to be much choice. “It will take time to learn a new weapon.”
“Most certainly, but that little metal stick Vivian showed me and called a sword would be mostly useless in battle. I own deadlier hair ornaments.”
“I think a few historians might disagree.”
“They would swiftly change their minds once one of our swords shattered their inferior mo
rtal blades into useless shards.”
“Prejudiced much?”
River’s expression took on a hint of doubt or perhaps that was confusion over Lillian’s meaning, but it cleared a moment later as her expression smoothed out. “How can it be prejudice when I have spoken only truth?”
Lillian winced. “Okay. We can agree to disagree.”
“Very well.”
She knew dealing with her mother’s quirks was going to be painful and slow going, but Gregory may be correct. There still might be hope for River. It would be a long journey, full of much frustration but when it was over, her mother might morph into a potent force for the Light.
“Come, let’s see what other bad habits that mortal woman has managed to teach you.”
Or not.
Either way, the coming hours were bound to be painful.
Chapter 25
SHUFFLING INTO THE kitchen, Lillian followed Gregory’s larger form and blinked against the bright light.
Even after getting showered, she still only felt half alive. Missing most of a night’s sleep and then having an evil dryad mother demand to begin sadistic sword fighting lessons at the butt crack of dawn will do that. She sighed and made her way to the coffee pot.
Only Gran and Greenborrow were in the kitchen, and they were deep in conversation, discussing what they should do next.
Secretly, Lillian was glad. She wouldn’t have to talk or think for a few minutes yet.
She waved at them as she crossed the kitchen, coffee pot firmly in her crosshairs. She was almost at her target when she saw a narrow, surprisingly familiar box sitting in front of the coffee maker.
A pregnancy test.
Sitting on the kitchen counter.
Her stomach plummeted, and her heart lurched like she’d been kicked in the chest. It quivered and fluttered and then broke into a full panicked gallop.
Unable to move, Lillian stood frozen, staring at the relatively tiny box.
There was writing on it.
Her eyes narrowed.
Someone had taken a sharpie and written something on the side of the box. She took a step closer and then picked it up to study the cryptic message for a moment and still couldn’t figure out what ‘P=P’ stood for.
What the hell did that mean?
Obviously, someone knew more than she wanted them to. Who, and more importantly—did Gregory know? Had they told him? Were they going to tell him?
A glance over her shoulder showed Gregory going through the fridge. He was pulling out milk, yogurt, and cream.
He hadn’t seen what sat in front of the coffee maker. If he were aware, he wouldn’t be half so mellow. She closed her eyes, refusing to think about how Gregory would take the news of what he’d done.
Turning the box over in her hand, she spotted another handwritten note on the other side of the box. This was done in a different hand.
She read it once. Her mind refused to understand. She read it a second time.
Purple equals pregnant.
Her breath froze, her mind slowed. Her heart might even have stopped for a beat or two. The buzz of white noise filled her head, and her vision greyed at the edges.
“Oh my, someone catch her!” Gran shouted as she came to her feet.
Gregory’s strong arms closed around Lillian, holding her up when her knees wanted to buckle. She didn’t know if she would have passed out or not. Lungs demanding oxygen, she took several deep breaths and her vision cleared. Her heart, however, was still pounding in sympathy with her mental panic.
“Lillian, what is wrong?” Gregory asked. With them touching, she could feel his thoughts brush hers, his worry and confusion coming clear across their mental link. She forced her eyes away from the box in her hand and tried to focus her mind on other things. Finally, she got herself under control and said, “Sorry. It must be stress and lack of sleep. I’m fine, really.”
“Do not lie to me.”
Something in his tone scared her. He didn’t sound angry or hurt, only intense—a predator on the hunt for the truth.
“I,” she started, “I’m sorry. This doesn’t concern you. This is my fault.”
“Lillian,” Gregory reached down and gently pried the package from her. He turned it this way and that as he took in what it was, and the notes penned upon the outside.
“And was it purple?” he asked, voice devoid of emotions.
But he couldn’t fool her, she sensed the barely controlled riot of emotions swirling beyond his surface thoughts. He was nowhere near as calm as he pretended to be.
He deserved an answer, but it kept sticking in her throat. She couldn’t look him in the eyes either.
“Beloved,” he prompted a second time gently.
“Yes. Three of them turned purple. I know they can’t possibly be accurate. They’re designed to react to a human hormone. I’m not human. I was just using them as a baseline test out of desperation. Nothing would show that fast even if they actually worked. And it was only the one time!”
Lillian was babbling, but now that she was talking, she couldn’t seem to stop.
“On a genetic level,” Gran explained, “sidhe, dryads and a few of the other fae are more closely related to humans than you might expect. We speculate the same evolutionary branch. Though the pregnancy tests are just a fluke dryads discovered a few years ago.” Gran cleared her throat, “but I digress.”
She took one of Lillian’s hands in her own. “A dryad’s body knows within hours if a mating was successful. Fertilization is different than in a human woman. A dryad’s cycle is seasonal, and her egg seed lays dormant in the womb until fertilization occurs and then it takes root within minutes.” Gran smiled reassuringly. “I was only told to keep you ignorant of your heritage, not that I needed to be ignorant too. The other dryads shared a great deal of information with me when they learned a gargoyle had entrusted me to raise one of the sisterhood. In those early days, I had a dryad at my side almost constantly. At the time, I didn’t think I would need such information, but now I’m glad I had it.”
Lillian snapped her teeth closed as a large hand settled over her stomach. She chanced a glance at Gregory. He’d been silent, and now that she could see his wild-eyed expression, she knew why. So there was something capable of confounding her gargoyle.
After another long minute, he gave himself a shake. “I can’t believe I was unaware.”
He turned her in his arms and dropped to his knees before her. A soft exhalation of breath against her belly was the only warning before he jerked up her shirt and his sensitive nose was running along her abdomen. He inhaled a few more times and then pressed his ear against her stomach.
Lillian held her breath and waited for Gregory to confirm or deny what the test had claimed.
After several agonizing long moments, Gregory straightened and placed a finger under her chin. His dark eyes reflected some emotion she couldn’t label.
Slowly his arms encircled her again, and his chin came to rest on her head.
“I smell the barest hint of new life upon your skin.” His voice rumbled over her head. “It’s so slight, I wouldn’t have noticed it for another day or two had I not been looking for it. There is no heartbeat, not yet...” his voice choked off, thick with emotion.
Lillian drew in a shaky breath. “I’ve doomed us all. We’re not supposed to.... this is all my fault.”
Gran barked out a short humorous laugh. “No baby is ever ‘all’ the woman’s fault. Fifty percent can be firmly placed on the man’s shoulders. Gregory has big, broad shoulders. I’m sure he can handle the added responsibility.”
As if in response to Gran’s words, Gregory tightened his hold. “Lillian, beloved, I will be a good mate. We will get through this together.”
“But I broke one of the most forbidden taboos. What if I birth a monster? This is exactly what the Battle Goddess wanted.”
Gregory chuckled—there was a strong hint of relief in his tone. “No. Actually, the Lady of Battles will be
quite put out, I imagine. She wanted a child born of the Sorceress and the Gargoyle Protector. This child is not that. As your hamadryad is presently the Sorceress, we were saved from that fate.”
“But I am still linked to my tree. How can we know for sure until after the child is born? And won’t I still have to give the baby to the tree to gestate? What happens then?”
Gregory continued to caress her belly, as if in awe, but his voice echoed in her ears again. “We are still here. Had we come together as the Avatars without divine will driving us, we would have been hunted down by Lord Death within moments.”
“But I thought he was imprisoned.”
“He would not need to leave his temple. But for such a violation of the divine law, he would be forced to act. He would dispatch every gargoyle, djinn, and celestial warrior within the three realms to hunt us down and bring us to him. Then we would be sent back to the Spirit Realm for judgment.” He leaned down and nuzzled her neck. “That you are alive to worry about the baby and trying to hide it from me, tells me the Divine Ones are not...concerned enough to have us returned to them immediately.”
Lillian shuddered. Returned, he meant killed. “So just like that—we are free and clear. No consequences.”
“Consequences?” His voice took on a darker tone. “There will be those aplenty. We may still have to face the Lord of the Underworld. He may demand our child into his service. All gargoyles are his to command—even me to some extent since I always choose to be born as a gargoyle. Also, one day we will rejoin in the Spirit Realm, and there will be a lengthy confession before our creators.”
“I’ll take the blame. It was my decision that got us into this mess.”
Gregory nipped her playfully on the shoulder. “We will be one. There will be no you or I at that point.”
Lillian turned in his arms and rested her head against his chest. “You’re taking this well.”
“Hmmm, this life is a test, I’m sure of it,” he acknowledged. “One thing I’ve learned is fighting that which cannot be undone only leads to more bruises.”
The Complete Gargoyle and Sorceress Boxset (Books 1-9) Page 67