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

by Lisa Blackwood

  But Sorac was different, wasn’t he? As a half-blood fertility god, he was usually immune to a succubus’s powers.

  That meant his emotions for her were as real as the blood flowing through her body.

  He loved her. Truly loved her. It wasn’t her powers making him think that.

  In the end, it didn’t matter, though, did it? If he loved her, he’d want more from her than just her love in return.

  He’d already hinted at that with the comment about only wanting to raise his drakelings with a woman he loved.

  There was no way Vaspara was becoming anyone’s mother. Certainly not the mother to fourteen firedrakes. And it didn’t matter if it was her oldest, most trusted friend and confidant asking. The answer was still a deafening no.

  “You look troubled.” Sorac’s sleep-roughened voice filled the tent.

  She’d thought he’d fallen asleep after they’d fed. Vaspara glanced toward the bed in time to see him toss back the blanket.

  “Oh, no you don’t!” Vaspara was at his side in a moment, pushing him back down, preventing him from getting up. “You need rest. Go back to sleep.”

  “I feel much better. Now tell me what is bothering you.”

  She didn’t want to talk about the real reason for her disquiet, so instead, she told him something else, a secret that had been eating at her for ages. Now seemed like as good a time as any to confess.

  “The Lady of Battles told me something about your heritage and then swore me to secrecy.”

  “Go on.”

  “It’s about your father.” Vaspara glanced down at her hands.

  “Don’t feel guilty about whatever secret the Battle Goddess forced you to keep from me. I’m not foolish or naïve. I know she would have killed you, or worse, for breaking confidence with her.” Sorac propped himself up on his elbows to watch her. “But now it’s just you and me. No secrets, so spit it out.”

  “You have the potential to become a demigod, one far more powerful than your father. You don’t need worshipers to survive, but if you drew worshippers to you, your power could grow to rival what the Lady of Battles commands.”

  Vaspara allowed that to sink in. “Normally, the Battle Goddess would never have allowed a possible rival to live. The only reason she made an exception with you is because of your mother’s loyalty and the rarity of firedrakes.”

  Sorac’s mother was a rare case. Bervicta’s great grandmother, an ancient harpy crone by the name of Brasscid, found a firedrake’s nest. A rockslide had destroyed all but one egg.

  “Captain Brasscid returned to the Battle Goddess with the egg, hatched it, and raised the firedrake chick.”

  “My mother, Soralia. Who later had me,” Sorac agreed. “I’ve heard the stories of how she grew in power and became a ferocious warrior, eventually rising to the top and becoming Commander. She even apprenticed Gryton for a few centuries before she died having me.”

  “Don’t get all teary-eyed over your mother. I knew Soralia for a time when I was younger. She was one scary drake. And she was loyal to the Battle Goddess. If your mother had lived, she would have seen to the Battle Goddess’s dream of a winged battalion of firedrakes. Your mother would have spawned many clutches of eggs, but I doubt she would have seen them as anything more than tools. She was always so cold. Cruel, even by our standards.”

  Sorac grunted. “I’ve always figured I must take after my father, at least in personality.”

  “Yes.” Vaspara grinned, still feeling the pleasant buzz from feeding. “Perhaps in more ways than just a personality.”

  An answering seductive smile spread across Sorac’s face. “If you’d like, we can explore mo—”

  Vaspara cut him off with a laugh. “I believe I was in the middle of a confession. Where was I? Ah, right. Your father destroyed the Battle Goddess’s plans for Commander Soralia. It was during one of the empire’s expansion phases, when the Lady of Battles sent her commander and army out to other worlds, seeking new species to strengthen our numbers.”

  Sorac fluffed the stuffed sack that was his pillow and then reclined with his hands tucked behind his head. The position had allowed his blanket to slip low around his waist. When he winked at her, she rolled her eyes and then collected her thoughts.

  “Commander Soralia led her troops to a new world. The citizens were deemed too weak to serve in the demigoddess’s army and were killed, their livestock and fields harvested to feed the dark kingdom. But your father also lived on that world. He woke from a long slumber to find his people already slaughtered or dying. In a rage, he attacked our army. Many were killed, but he was no match for Commander Soralia and all the captains. At least not in battle.”

  Vaspara retrieved a pitcher of water and the two cups a servant had left for them. After pouring Sorac and herself a drink, she continued her tale.

  “He wasn’t a warrior, but as a fertility deity, he was without compare. He turned that power into a weapon, enchanting the entire army, overwhelming them with lust. Then he ensured each joining resulted in a life being conceived that day.”

  Sorac shifted to fold his arms across his chest. Humor had fled his expression. “Fertility as a weapon? I would never have thought to use that power in such a way.”

  “But your father did, and his last great act was to beget a child—his only child—upon Commander Soralia. He endowed you with all his powers. Yet as a half-breed firedrake you would never need worshipers to survive.”

  Vaspara drained her cup and set it aside. “With his temples destroyed and his worshipers slaughtered, he faded, but even then, I think he knew his vengeance would be far-reaching.”

  “I had no idea my father did all that.” Sorac stared down into his cup, his expression blank. “All I was ever told was that he was a defeated fertility god. I assumed my mother had just thought him pretty and used him to beget me before having him killed.”

  Vaspara reached out and touched his shoulder. “Your father was strong, never a victim. His actions had long-lasting consequences upon the Battle Goddess’s army, for he hadn’t just ensured that all the females would leave the field of battle with pups in their bellies, he imprinted a strong maternal drive in each of them. They would not rid themselves of the unwanted new life. They would fight to keep them.”

  With one more squeeze to his shoulder, she explained the last bit of revenge the fertility god had set into motion. “Your father had left the Lady of Battles with two choices. Refrain from further battles until half her army had whelped and raised their young. Or weave a spell that would rid them of the unwanted offspring which might lead to a civil war where she could find half her army rising up against her, seeking revenge.”

  Sorac grinned suddenly. “My father died, but he still beat the Lady of Battles at her own game. She could do nothing to undo what he’d created that day.”

  “You are correct. Even the Lady of Battles admitted a mere fertility deity had defeated her. With no other viable choice, she allowed the women of her army to birth and raise their young in peace.”

  Rolling the water around in his cup, Sorac still didn’t bother looking up as he answered her. “I always wondered why there were so many children my exact age when I was growing up. I assumed the Battle Goddess had put out an order for her army to increase its numbers naturally.”

  “No. She wasn’t so foolish to set into motion something that would force her army to choose between duty and family.”

  Sorac grunted. “You speak of this all as if you were there.”

  Vaspara tilted her head. “Because I was.”

  “Yet you don’t have a child.” His gaze darted to her waist before returning to stare at his cup. Then, his voice gentle, he asked, “Did you lose it?”

  “There never was a child.” At the time, she’d just been relieved. It wasn’t until later that she realized the lack of a child was partly why she’d risen to power so quickly. “Your father’s magic flowed over me but didn’t incite my lusts. Perhaps he didn’t think a succubus wou
ld make a good mother.”

  Looking up from his cup, Sorac’s eyes narrowed, studying her as if seeing her for the first time. “And yet, I grew up with other succubus children. They must have been conceived during that time.”

  She shrugged. “Perhaps there’s something wrong with me that even he couldn’t fix. Or he found me wanting in some other way.”

  Or he knew, even as I do, that I’d be a terrible mother.

  “Perhaps,” Sorac agreed distractedly, his gaze distant as his thoughts turned inward.

  He suspected something else though. She was certain.

  “What else has been kept from me?” Sorac asked suddenly.

  “Your father had one other bit of vengeance planned for Commander Soralia. As you developed, you drained all your mother’s resources, stealing them for yourself so you would be powerful from the moment of your birth. Your father never wanted you to be a slave to the Lady of Battles.”

  “My mother wasn’t killed in battle before I hatched, was she?”

  “No. That was another lie the Battle Goddess ordered you be told.”

  Sorac drew in a deep breath and then exhaled it slowly. “I killed my mother.”

  “No.” Vaspara was beside him again, her hand touching his. “You didn’t kill your mother. Your father’s spell greatly weakened her. Later, after she’d laid you, the Battle Goddess had her killed, saying no weak creature would raise one of her future captains.”

  The muscles along his jaws flexed. “Thank you for sharing all this with me. I knew that I’d been born of Commander Soralia and a fertility deity, but I wasn’t aware of the grand scope of the deception.”

  “No, the Lady of Battles didn’t want you to know of the depth of your father’s power. If he’d known of the impending invasion and had time to ready his people, he might have repelled our army.”

  “All this time, the Lady of Battles must have distrusted me for what I am, who my father was. I’m surprised I’m still alive.” Sorac grunted unhappily. “I think I just pieced together something that’s been bothering me. Normally, the Battle Goddess punishes her captains with a demotion if they beget young without her express command. I assumed she was granting me leniency because the heat cycles were beyond my control. And if I didn’t go into nesting mode to hatch the eggs, it wouldn’t impact my duties and loyalties as a captain. But that wasn’t the reason at all.”

  “No,” Vaspara agreed. “Even though you posed a risk, she still wanted you to create as many eggs as possible. After the death of your mother, the Battle Goddess saw you as her only chance to get her winged, fire breathing warriors. And as long as she had your eggs, she could ensure your loyalty in the interim.”

  “And after I’d hatched the eggs, reared my drakelings, and they were old enough to protect themselves? What then Vaspara?” Sorac sat up, tossing the blankets aside and faced her, no longer hiding his emotions. They burned along with the elemental fire swirling around the outer ring of his irises. “Did she already have planned out another way to control me?”

  “Yes.” Vaspara broke his gaze to stare at a point over his shoulder, pretending interest in the fabric walls of the tent.

  “She knew I’d fallen in love with you and would have used you to control me.” His words were tired, not accusing.

  “Yes.” Vaspara snorted out a humorless laugh. “But in her arrogance, she miscalculated. It never occurred to her that my loyalty to you would grow stronger than my loyalty to her.”

  “We’re both lucky to have survived this long.”

  It was true. No point in denying it. “Yes. Though, I think it’s in part because it never occurred to her that one of her inner circle would betray her. At least not until River turned traitor to save Shadowlight, and later Gryton’s defection. Now she’s looking everywhere for betrayal. It was only a matter of time before she looked upon us and decided our loyalty to each other was too dangerous to allow.”

  “All the more reason for us to leave this land forever.”

  “Yes. After we rescue your eggs.” Vaspara grinned savagely. “I’m possessive, and there’s no way I’m leaving something that’s so much a part of you behind.”

  “Possessive can be fun.” Sorac made a deeply male sound of pleasure and tried to draw her down onto the bed with him.

  “We’ll discuss that later,” Vaspara said as she slipped out of his grasp, intentionally not giving him a chance to get a word in. “You need to rest. I’ll go speak with Mattis and tell him to pack. We can’t stay here.”

  She turned her back on the firedrake and brushed aside the curtain suspended across the tent’s opening. Dawn was painting the sky to the east in shades of pink.

  Chapter 5

  SORAC WOKE WITH A SOFT hiss. Glancing around the shelter, he discovered he was still alone. Although, Vaspara’s scent still clung to his skin, and that was a rather pleasant way to wake up. Stretching again, he briefly debated staying in bed until his succubus returned, but just then his stomach growled.

  Sighing, he at last rolled out of bed, dressed, and then emerged from the tent. His stomach growled again.

  He’d only taken a dozen steps when the oldest of Vaspara’s servants spotted him. Mattis’s gait was worse than it had been last time Sorac had seen him.

  “Lizardman, I see the mistress hasn’t fucked you to death yet. Suppose that’s good.” The elder’s expression gave nothing away.

  “Randy old bastard, you’re still alive?” Humor colored his tone, and he grinned at their familiar banter. Mattis always kept a severe expression on his face while Sorac, more often than not, ended up dissolving into merry laughter until tears rolled down his face.

  With a gruff curse, Mattis reached out and drew Sorac in for a rough embrace before shoving him back to arm's length. His ancient frame still had surprising strength for one so frail looking. “Missed you and the mistress. Glad to have you back.”

  “I am glad to see you and the others. Living conditions haven’t been too hard?”

  “Ha! It’s colder than a witch’s teat at night, but it’s better than being eaten by the blood witch. I’ll live in a tent for however long I need if it keeps my family safe. Thank you for flying us all here, Lizardman.”

  Sorac had known the elder since birth. Same with his father before him and his grandmother before that, generation after generation stretching back a thousand years, to a time when he’d carried this man’s very pregnant ancestor from a burning house after the army had rolled through her kingdom.

  At the time, Sorac hadn’t needed another servant, but he knew Vaspara’s old, childless servants could use the help and the pregnant woman had been too lovely to allow death or a harsher master to claim her.

  Seeing the subsequent generations born, grow, have children of their own, and then age until they grew old and grey was both sad and yet rewarding, too. These people might be servants, but they were as close as either he or Vaspara had to a loving family.

  Thus, the reason he’d risked his life to save them from Blood Witch Taryin.

  “We’re not going back,” he blurted suddenly.

  Mattis was silent for a moment and then reached out and patted him on the arm. “Finally came to your senses, did you? I don’t care if I must sculpt the walls of my house out of snow. Anything is better than returning to the fortress while that blood witch dwells there.”

  “I can’t say I disagree with you. Gryton’s defection has unbalanced the Lady of Battles, and now Taryin has summoned a Djinn.” Sorac only shook his head. “And we’ve just returned from having our backsides soundly beat by Anna Mackenzie and a fully matured Shadowlight. I don’t know what Lord Death has been up to, but there were also many warrior dryads among his young gargoyles. Things aren’t like they used to be.”

  “Warrior dryads? Were they pretty with big,” Mattis made a motion of cupping imaginary breasts. “If so, there are worse ways to die than being killed by a beautiful woman.”

  “Yes, they were all lovely.” Sorac grinned. “H
owever, since I’m certain they were all daughters of gargoyles, they likely had big, scary fathers and brothers who might break every bone in your body if you ogled their daughters and sisters.”

  “Aw, in that case. Never mind. My eyesight’s fading, anyway.”

  Sorac just shook his head again. “Vaspara and I both feel we are on the losing side of the coming conflict. If the Avatars and their allies don’t kill us, the blood witch will use us to fuel her spells with the Battle Goddess’s blessing.”

  Mattis grunted. “Sounds like it’s long past time to leave.”

  “I’ve been thinking that way since the Lady of Battles first captured the female half of the Avatars. Every time I looked into that ancient child’s eyes, I swear I flinched. Now there’s a djinn. The Lady of Battles has completely come unhinged.”

  “Lizard, you’re just realizing that now?”

  “No, but we’ve just been handed the perfect opportunity to finally escape without being noticed. Everyone thinks we’re dead and that you and the other servants have long since been killed to fuel one of the witch’s blood spells,” he said. “Vaspara and I will find a safe place to start a village far from this land; hopefully, we will get ourselves so lost no one ever comes looking for us again. We want to bring you and the others with us.”

  “I like how you think, Lizard.”

  “You know I hate cooking, and poison might be more palatable than Vaspara’s attempts.” He leaned back against the tree as he looked around the clearing. “Have you seen where Vaspara went? We need to discuss something.”

  “Going to rescue your brood?”

  Sorac choked on spit. “Has everyone figured out my secret?”

  “Vaspara told us you both needed to go back for something. When I asked what could be so important to be worth risking your lives, she told me. She also told me if you don’t return by a specified time, we are to leave here at once.”