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

by Lisa Blackwood

  Vaspara laughed her agreement at the harpy’s words. After all, she and Sorac needed all the allies they could get if they wished to displace the witch as the Battle Goddess’s new favorite.

  Not that she, Sorac, or Bervicta wanted to assume Gryton’s role, but better it was one of them than the witch. And with six of the twelve captains killed with Anna and Shadowlight’s escape and later the Avatars’ attack, the pool of candidates was slim.

  Vaspara would even happily serve under one of the half-sidhe sisters. They were honorable and far deadlier in a fight than their graceful appearance would suggest. One didn’t become a captain by being weak after all.

  Soon the soft rattle of chains drew Vaspara’s mind back to the task at hand. Within moments the Lady of Battles walked into her altar room, chains dragging along behind her. She moved like she no longer felt them. Which, Vaspara wondered, if that meant the Avatar’s ancient spell was growing weaker and the duality curse would one day fade.

  That had been Vaspara’s greatest wish when she’d been newly welcomed into the army, but over the years, her outlook had changed a bit. Oh, she was no bleeding heart, but she still knew that once the Lady of Battles was free, she’d be swift to resume her fight directly with Lord Death.

  Last time, they’d nearly ripped the three realms apart.

  Sorac brushed the side of his boot against hers in silent warning and Vaspara shut down the errant thoughts. The firedrake could sniff out strong emotions. If he sensed her turmoil, others might as well. If the Battle Goddess discerned her real thoughts, Vaspara would be dead faster than she could exhale.

  Soon the swish of fabric joined the rattle of chains, and then the Lady of Battles walked part way down the stairs. The giantess towered over them all, her rage tangible, almost a shimmering in the air around her.

  It made even the ordinarily confident Vaspara feel tiny and inconsequential. The sensation certainly didn’t diminish as the Battle Goddess studied each of her captains in turn.

  Then with a snort of disdain, their Lady brushed aside her skirts and sat upon the landing mid-way up the stairs. “You can relax. I won’t be killing any of my captains this day. I can’t afford to lose any more of you.”

  Sorac cleared his throat and bowed deeply. “We are ready to serve you, Great Queen.”

  The goddess laughed. “I should hope so. If we fail to win the coming battle, the Avatars will see each and every one of you dead.”

  Unfortunately, their goddess was correct on that part, Vaspara thought.

  “Each of you will select the most cunning and most skilled soldiers under your command and will begin grooming them to fill the new holes in your ranks. They have a moon cycle to prepare, and then they will meet on the practice fields. The survivors will be elevated to the role of captain.”

  Sorac coughed softly, catching the Battle Goddess’s attention.

  “Speak. You clearly have something you want to say.”

  “Don’t take this as a sign of weakness on my part, for I know my choices will all be standing at the end of the matches, but as our ranks have been unexpectedly thinned, and if we’re picking from the strongest and most intelligent, wouldn’t it be better to avoid deathmatches? We might need the losers to step up later. Make them our new seconds.”

  “Cocky as always.” But the Lady of Battles didn’t seem angered by Sorac’s candor. “It shall be as you say. No death matches then.”

  After that, the tension in the room eased, and the meeting turned to routine reporting, patrol assignments, and other various tasks and duties that now needed to be performed by new personnel.

  Eventually, the meeting wound down, and the Battle Goddess was turning to leave when new footsteps—an uneven shuffling gait—reached Vaspara’s ears.

  Shortly, the blood witch limped in and bowed toward the Battle Goddess. The bow wasn’t her usual elegant movement, and if Vaspara wasn't mistaken, that was a piece of skin that just flaked off and floated to the polished stone floor.

  The witch was hooded, but the light was good enough that she could see the new arrival’s reflection on the floor. Burned, charred, and oozing skin was mixed with the bright pink of scar tissue. Her dark magic was healing her, but it would be many days before she was fully restored.

  She was weakened in her present state, but far from defeated.

  Vaspara waited for whatever news had brought the witch from her nest of spells so soon.

  When the blood witch rose from her bow, she met their Lady’s gaze. “My magic has returned enough that I was just able to discern something of strategic importance. Anna and Shadowlight aren’t dead. Lord Draydrak has cleansed Anna of my blood spell. If we act quickly, we may still be able to recover them.”

  “That’s not possible.” The Battle Goddess leaned forward. “I felt them vanish, their lifeforces snuffed out.”

  “Oh, yes, they did vanish, but they are not dead. If Draydrak were going to kill the human hybrid, he wouldn’t have worked so hard to untangle her from my spell work. He would have just killed her and then cleansed the soul afterward.”

  Vaspara could see that the Lady of Battles was mulling over what the witch had said.

  “Go on.”

  “He’s either secreted them away somewhere for questioning, or he’s looked into their souls and thinks he can use them against us. But they live. If they were dead, my blood magic would have trailed them into the Spirit Realm.”

  “Then we must find a way to steal them from my brother or kill them. They are too powerful a tool to leave in his hands.”

  “Agreed. But first, we must find them. A task for which I am perfectly suited—once I’m fully recovered.”

  The Lady of Battles nodded once. “You can have as many non-combatants as you need to fuel your spells. But do not disappoint me, Witch. I’ve had my fill of failures.”

  “I shall not.” The blood witch bowed again.

  Vaspara and Sorac shared a look.

  But then the meeting was over, the Battle Goddess retreated deeper into her temple, and the captains walked off, already focusing on finding the strongest and most skilled of their soldiers. Vaspara’s own mind was already headed down those paths as she and Sorac left the hall.

  Once they were well away and no one was in earshot, Vaspara leaned closer to Sorac. “We need to find a way to hide our servants from that creature before she eats them.”

  Sorac nodded agreement.

  “I’ve been assigned to fly the outer borders tomorrow starting at dawn.” He paused and speared her with a look. “I’ll be leaving earlier, at second moon rise. If you want your servant family to survive, send them to meet with mine an hour before that. I can carry them all to the wildlands. If they can steal enough supplies, they’ll have a chance at survival. Better than they would have here.”

  Vaspara wasn’t accustomed to saying thank you, but one bubbled up and out her mouth before she could rethink it.

  Sorac looked down at her and grinned. “You can repay me once I return. I’ll need someone to clean my chambers.”

  Vaspara flashed her fangs at him. “I don’t clean, cook or mend clothing, but I’ll come and stay with you and help protect you from the witch. She’ll be none too pleased to learn she’s short a few snacks.”

  “A deal. But with luck, she’ll be too busy hunting for Anna and Shadowlight to pick a fight with us.”

  Chapter 18

  AS IT WAS, ANNA AND Obsidian didn’t wake until close to noon, Master Maradryn had left them to rest since they apparently needed it. After a few pokes and prods with her healing magic, she declared them fit to go.

  After they left the healers’ quarters, Anna’s mind sharpened and went over the evening before. Every freaking embarrassing little detail.

  At least when she’d woken this morning, her gargoyle nature was stronger, and she was able to build a proper mental shield. It wouldn’t be enough to keep a determined Obsidian, or a mentor, out of her head, but it restored a little bit of privacy.

>   They were almost out of the larger healers’ complex when Obsidian cleared his throat.

  “Anna, about last night...”

  “Don’t worry. We were both under the influence of the healing magic. What happens in the healers’ quarters, stays in the healers’ quarters. Deal?”

  Obsidian looked pensive for a moment then snorted. “Probably wise.”

  “So where to next?”

  “My dwelling to clean up and get a change of clothing. Then food,” Obsidian added plaintively. “I’m going to eat the Cliff Jumper you shot yesterday. If you’re fast, I might save you some.”

  “Food sounds great. A shower sounds better.” Anna paused, remembering that while Obsidian’s tree house bathroom had running water, a basin and a flushable toilet of sorts, she hadn’t seen a shower or bathtub.

  Made sense since there was probably a limit to how much rainwater they could collect and store in the small tanks atop their dwelling.

  “That reminds me, where do you all shower or bathe?”

  “Since it isn’t feasible for a gargoyle to squeeze into a human type shower, we have heated communal bathing pools that we use to soak away aches and pains from a long day of training. We can go there if you prefer.”

  She was so very tempted to say yes. Except the communal part was a bit of a deal breaker, at least for now. She’d tackle that issue later. For now, a good washing would do. Otherwise, if she had to wait, her stomach was going to chew its way out of her abdomen.

  “Your place is good.”

  They exited the medical complex and found Obsidian’s friends waiting.

  “You were there for ages.” Truth was the first to accost them. “Were you really hurt that much? The healers wouldn’t let us visit you.”

  “The healers had to use a large dose of healing magic to get past my defenses to repair the damage.” Obsidian flicked his tail. The small tell speaking of his embarrassment at having to admit weakness.

  He cleared his throat. “Master Maradryn was...generous. I had to sleep off the aftereffects.”

  “He means he was the equivalent of piss drunk,” Anna added with a grin.

  “I wish I’d seen that.” There was no hiding the humorous note in Truth’s tone.

  ANNA CROSSED THE THRESHOLD into Obsidian’s place, only then realizing the others hadn’t followed. She ducked her head back out.

  “What? Are you vampires and have to be invited in?” Her jest was lost on them, though, and Anna just waved them inside.

  Meadow, she noticed, was hanging back, clearly more uncertain than ever about Anna and Obsidian’s relationship.

  You and me both, Anna thought a touch worriedly.

  Anna would face down the blood witch, fight the Lady of Battles in hand to hand combat, have tea with fucking Tin Man if need be, but the thought of Obsidian expecting a romantic relationship terrified her, and predictably stirred up the old memories and night terrors.

  There were two ways she could handle this. Cut him off at the knees and crush any romantic notions he might be harboring and likely do substantial emotional harm, or she could direct his attention to a more suitable female and let nature take its course.

  Anna’s gaze landed on Meadow again. Unless she was mistaken about the dryad’s feelings, the early groundwork was already laid out, all she had to do was nudge Obsidian into Meadow’s waiting arms. But first, she’d have to mend some fences. Otherwise, the dryad wouldn’t know Anna’s Rasoren was available.

  Hmm, Anna thought to herself. Best way to do that is to convince Meadow that Obsidian and I are like two siblings.

  This was more than just about Meadow, though.

  Obsidian needed to continue growing and developing emotionally. It looked like he’d been doing just fine until she awoke. Now, he needed to get back to that level of emotional separation from her and the unnatural bond the Battle Goddess had forced upon them, or he’d never be independent.

  Obsidian deserved a normal life.

  And finding and falling in love with a nice girl—or dryad—was part of that.

  Obsidian’s happiness was important to her. She just couldn’t be the cornerstone that he built his love life around. Besides, even if she hadn’t been...damaged, the darkly possessive bond that linked them together nullified any chance of them having a relationship where they were both equals. He’d always have the ability to command her. Not that he would, but it would hang over any relationship.

  “Anna, did you wish to go first?” Obsidian was gesturing at the second smaller room that functioned as a bathroom.

  She shook her head. Obsidian nodded in acknowledgment and then entered the room himself.

  Anna turned her attention back to the dryad. “So... this feast. What’s the occasion, anyway? It’s a big deal obviously.”

  Oath leaped on her question before Meadow could answer. “It celebrates spring and new life.”

  Anna mentally tripped over that detail. It was spring? It took her brain a moment to realign itself and remember she’d been asleep for thirteen years.

  How bad could a spring festival be?

  “Oath is young, so he’s more interested in the food and music,” Meadow clarified. “But this is also a dryad sacred rite, marking the beginning of when many of my sisters will enter their yearly fertility cycles.”

  Alrighty then. It was going to be that kind of shindig. Great time to wake up from your stone nap, Mackenzie.

  “Not everyone will take part, only the ones who have hamadryads ready to carry a child and those dryads just entering their first fertility cycle and are yet unmated.”

  Meadow paused for a moment, thinking.

  “The dryads of Haven are likely different than the ones you might be familiar with. We remain mated to our gargoyle partners for life, unlike normal dryads who lead solitary lives and pick a new mate for each fertility season. We’re also physically and magically stronger, thanks to our gargoyle heritage.”

  “You make Haven dryads sound like a different species.”

  “I suppose we are. The earliest dryad sisters to arrive on this island were normal dryads. But after a few generations of selective matings with the gargoyles, we are now very close to becoming a different race.”

  “You really are the Amazons of the fairy folk.”

  Meadow’s one brow arched in question and Anna explained what an Amazon was.

  “Yes, we are a fiercer breed than our cousin dryads. Each subsequent generation grows stronger, and we have a higher ratio of full blood gargoyle sons. If a normal dryad mated with a gargoyle, she might have three or four daughters to one son. We’re down to two daughters to one son.”

  The soft creak of hinges drew Anna’s eyes to the bathroom door.

  Her breath hitched, then froze in her lungs.

  Breathe, you twit!

  She managed to draw in a deep gulp which attracted the male’s eyes.

  Worse, she was sure her mouth was hanging open. But in her defense, one of the hottest dudes she’d ever laid eyes on was standing on the threshold. And she just gawked like a bystander at a house fire.

  It was Obsidian. Her magic told her as much. It shouldn’t have come as such a surprise. Shadowlight had once taken on human form—a gawky adolescent who had just happened to look like a younger version of one of her brothers.

  However, this fellow didn’t look much like a Mackenzie.

  No, he had more of the young god vibe going for him, and his hair—he totally rocked the hell out of them dreads. She’d always suspected his thick, lustrous black mane would work beautifully done up in dreads.

  Guess she had her answer.

  Gold bands at the end of each dread clinked together as he walked closer. Matching armbands circled his biceps, and he also had a wide collar made of hammered gold discs engraved with patterns that reminded her of Celtic knotwork. The rest of his chest was bare, which didn’t surprise her as gargoyles weren’t known to be big on clothing.

  He’d traded in the traditional beaded lo
incloth for a paneled knee-length garment with a wide belt—also engraved gold—reminiscent of what ancient Roman gladiators wore.

  Continuing farther down, her gaze reached his feet, encased in sensible leather sandals. It was the first time she ever recalled him wearing foot coverings.

  Returning to his only familiar features, her gaze studied his eyes with their dark irises and vertical pupils; though, they were now human shaped instead of the larger, slanted orbs of a gargoyle.

  Come to think of it, his eyes weren’t the only familiar thing. He’d coordinated their skin tones like he’d grabbed a bunch of paint chips and meticulously matched them to her until he found the perfect one and then replicated the hell out of it. If they walked side by side, they’d look like matching horses on parade.

  Briefly, she wondered if it was consciously or unconsciously done.

  Either way, she wasn’t sure if she should be flattered or freaked.

  “Thump...and another female falls under Obsidian’s spell.” Truth’s tone was humorous, no envy to be found.

  Anna snorted and side-eyed the other male. “Pretty boys don’t do it for me. Obsidian’s safe. I was just taking in all the changes. He used to look like a younger version of one of my brothers.”

  Truth leaned forward, the picture of mischief. “And he doesn’t now? Hmmm. Wonder why that is?”

  Obsidian reached out and cuffed Truth. “All of you out so Anna can get changed.”

  She was going to point out that she could do that in the bathroom just fine, but Obsidian cut her off.

  “Meadow, did you or Lark have any luck finding something for Anna to wear?”

  “Yes actually.” Meadow shrugged a pack off her back and proceeded to pull out several garments. “I could stay and help.”

  “Sure,” Anna said before Obsidian could utter a response. “We can chat while you show me what’s what. I’d love to hear stories about Shadowlight growing up.”

  Obsidian arched an eyebrow. “You could simply ask to look into my head if that’s what you were really after. But it’s not. I’m on to you. You won’t learn anything juicy from my friends.”