The Avatars Series: Books 1-3

by Blackwood, Lisa

  But they weren’t here. And the human was.

  She was young. Although several years older than him. From what he’d seen and sensed, she was brave and as honourable as a gargoyle. He couldn’t leave her bright spirit to be overtaken and enslaved by the Riven tainting it.

  Yet, he found himself reluctant to end her life even though it was required.

  The Riven taint was too deeply embedded to be routed out by normal magical means. While he had powerful healing abilities and could fight off Riven taint with little effort, the human had no such reserves left.

  His dryad mother was a healer, and her knowledge and memories told him his magic could heal the human’s injuries, but the Riven taint was not something that could be healed. It had to be hunted down and eradicated first.

  By its very nature, his magic-laced gargoyle blood was designed to hunt and eradicate evil. A blood exchange would kill the Riven taint, but there was a good chance the human wouldn’t survive it either. If she did, what then? She’d be tied to him for life, just like the unicorn was to Gregory.

  And that was just with one blood exchange. He feared this would take many more. All his knowledge came from his parents’ memories, but neither of them had ever had reason to heal a human in such a way. He wasn’t even certain it would work.

  A brave human was dying at his feet, worse than dying actually. He had to help, or at least try.

  “Little human, can you still hear me?”

  She blinked her eyes open and then took a moment to focus on him. “Yes. Just do it. You’re running out of time. It’s growing stronger.”

  “You are brave, stronger, I think, than many of your kind. There may be another way to help you.” Shadowlight dropped down onto his haunches and mantled his wings around himself. He really didn’t want to kill her, sensing it might darken a part of his soul if he did. “Gargoyle blood contains powerful healing and purifying magic. If I share my blood with you, it would hunt down the Riven taint in yours and destroy it. However, it might also kill you along with the taint.”

  She laughed, and it turned into a groan. “God, this is the strangest conversation I’ve ever had. I’m worse than dead without your help. The worse your blood can do is kill me.”

  “Yes, but it would be a painful death.” Shadowlight gave a little shrug. “I could grant you a quicker death with my talons. However, if you are not afraid of pain, I would prefer to heal you.”

  “Can’t believe I’m talking to a hallucination. On the off chance this is real, I’d be stupid to say no. Besides, I really want to get revenge on the bastards who killed my squad.”

  Her voice drifted into silence, and he realized she’d just passed out again. She’d given consent, though, hadn’t she?

  Shadowlight gave another little shrug. He understood her reasoning. If he’d been in a similar circumstance, he’d want a second chance to live, to hunt down his enemies, to avenge his family. Because that’s what he sensed when she’d spoke of avenging her squad. They were a family.

  He brought his wrist up to his muzzle. A swift, sharp nip and his fangs sliced through his skin and his own blood coated his lips. Scanning the human, he sought the locations of the Riven bites. Finding five in total, he dripped his own blood upon them.

  With a strangled hiss of pain, the human blinked her eyes back open and she gasped. He used the opportunity to press his bleeding wrist to her lips. She choked and sputtered at first, trying to spit out his blood, but he simply pressed his wrist harder against her lips.

  “Drink, it’s your only chance at life, and even then, a slim one.”

  The human’s wide-eyed stare didn’t change at first, but after a moment his words must have sunk in because she nodded and forced herself to swallow.

  Her fingers wrapped around his forearm with a desperate strength as the muscles along her neck tensed and flexed as she fought past her natural gag reflex. The hard fought battle drained away the last of her strength, and her fingers loosened their grip, but her iron will won the fight, conquering her aversion to his blood. Though by her deep grimace and the occasional muffled gag, she didn’t like it. To be honest, he took no joy in the act either. It simply hurt.

  She jerked her head to the side.

  “Enough.” She held up a hand, which trembled with near violence. “If you force me to drink more, I swear, I’ll throw up all over you.”

  Shadowlight didn’t know how much blood was required, but took her at her word and instead held his wrist over her bite marks again.

  “Dammit, that hurts!”

  He nodded. “It’s working then.”

  “Fuck. You don’t say!” She curled into a fetal position and buried her face in her forearms. It did little to muffle her pain sounds.

  “There is no one else near,” he offered helpfully. “You can scream if you want.”

  “Good to know,” she gasped and shuddered. “Might take you up on your offer later.”

  “Or I can knock you unconscious, though it might be better if you remain alert enough to tell me how you feel.” He paused and lapped at his bleeding wrist so his saliva would aid in healing the small wound. After a brief internal debate, he decided to tell her the truth. “I’ve never done a blood exchange or healing before. I’m too young and have never had the chance. Although, I know how it is done.”

  She looked up, her expression pain etched, her brown skin sweat covered and taking on an ashen greyish tint. “Seriously?”

  If she would have said more, it was stolen by a convulsion wracking her body.

  He sat next to her and then gathered her up against his side so she wouldn’t beat herself black and blue against the tree’s gnarled old roots. The Riven taint was putting up a good fight, but he sensed his blood was winning. Soon, there would be nowhere in her body it could hide.

  “Distract me,” she managed after the first wave of convulsions past. “Young. How young?”

  He didn’t see any point in lying. The truth couldn’t harm her.

  Besides, he wanted to make friends. The few Fae he’d interacted with treated him with the greatest respect, but were aloof and cold. Well, perhaps not Greenborrow. The leshii seem genuinely interested in offering friendship. Something about this human’s boldness and quick mouth reminded him of the leshii.

  “I’m eight.”

  “Eight?” She eyed him from the tips of his horns all the way down to where his talons dug into the soft loam. “Eight what? Eight years?!”

  He stopped lapping at his wrist. “Yes.”

  “Are you fully grown?”

  “No.”

  “Lord,” she choked. “If you’re a child of your kind, I don’t want to meet any adults.”

  “My father is only a little taller. Hmmm…it’s probably best if you don’t meet him just yet.”

  Shadowlight decided his parents probably wouldn’t be happy about what he’d done.

  Perhaps not Lillian or Gregory either. Gran? She seemed the most open. Maybe he could confide in her once the human was healed. Yes, that sounded like a good idea.

  Decision made, he looked back down at the human. She was unconscious again, but she breathed. A quick survey of her wounds showed they were still grievous. However, he thought she might live.

  For now, he would have to find a place to hide her from the other Fae. Once she was healed, there wasn’t anything the others could do. They’d eventually see the good in her.

  They wouldn’t harm another of Light’s warriors, after all.

  With a happy snort, he scooped up the human and headed back toward home. After he stashed the human somewhere safe and wove a spell of protection, he’d find Greenborrow as his father had ordered. Later, when no one would miss him, he’d come back and tend to the human’s wounds and then find a more permanent place to stash her.

  Chapter Four

  “Come on,” Lillian held out what she called a polo shirt and gave it a forceful shake. “Put. The. Shirt. On. Now. They’re almost here.”

  Grego
ry stood across from her and returned her frown. It wasn’t actually cold, even though a rain shower had moved in while they discussed plans.

  Lillian worried and fretted he wouldn’t be dressed in time before the humans arrived. He scrounged for what the healers were called, something uniquely complicated only they would come up with. Oh, yes, Medical Technicians. He still couldn’t get particularly worked up about humans. Besides, he was now in human form, dressed in human fashion—which he hated. It was a passably warm day, even with the rain shower. He saw no reason to wear the unnecessary layer the shirt represented. Even his fragile human hide could maintain enough heat without it.

  “Do I have to get Gran in here?” Lillian asked, one fist planting itself against her hip, while the other one held the shirt in a white-knuckled grip.

  Gregory huffed, finding the situation humorous. He stepped up to Lillian, closed one hand around the shirt, and the other around the back of her head and pressed their lips together.

  Being in human form had some benefits. He deepened the kiss and was rewarded by Lillian softening into his touch. She relaxed against him. Both hands came up to caress the muscles of his chest, the shirt long forgotten. He debated dropping it on the floor to free his other hand to roam. Unfortunately, his ears picked up the sound of a sharp rapping at the front door.

  A pity, he would have liked to have seen where the kissing would have led. He liked the new relationship he’d been building with his Sorceress. Alas, the humans were at the gates, and he needed to be on his best behaviour. He’d promised, after all.

  He broke the kiss, and Lillian made a little sound of protest. Giving her a lazy grin and a quick peck on the cheek, he said, “That’s the going rate for me to play at human and suffering the full human regalia that goes with it.”

  Gregory admitted a touch sheepishly he liked using a few of the human terms—they needed so little added explanation. Lillian didn’t seem to see the humour and huffed like a quail disturbed from its daytime roost.

  “Now…”

  “Is not the time to argue,” he said and pulled the shirt over his head. “The humans are at the front door and impatient to get in if that’s what the repeated, heavy-handed pounding means.

  Lillian grumbled something less than delicate under her breath, and then grabbed his hand and tugged him toward the door.

  “Do you remember the details of your cover story if someone attempts small talk,” Lillian asked as she started down the stairs.

  “Every word.”

  Gregory allowed himself to be steered toward the big armchair and then be pushed down into it. A moment later a cup of something hot was shoved in one hand and a couple cookies in the other. The television was still on, and the coffee table was loaded with food and what Lillian called a board game.

  Gran had clearly engineered the scene to look as natural as possible.

  Gregory ate the cookies and reached for the nearest plate with his favourite type—the ones with the warm, chewy dark substance called chocolate. It was regrettable they were entirely bad for one’s body. He scooped up another handful. If he was going to sit through this episode, which involved willingly shedding blood for one’s enemy, he’d take his reward first.

  Gran walked past him on her way to the front door, still wearing an apron coated with a fine layer of flour from all her baking efforts, and seemingly unconcerned with the newcomers’ arrival. Lillian, on the other hand, was fussing nervously with plates, saucers, and teacups.

  While the door swung inward, Gregory studied Lillian’s expression and body language—which was supposed to reflect mild surprise, but was in fact so false anyone who looked upon her would surely become suspicious. He reached out and slung an arm around her waist and dragged her into his lap.

  Her yelp of surprise sounded far more genuine than any act.

  He took a sip from his mug and nearly spat it back out. Black coffee, hot enough to burn three layers of skin off the roof of his mouth. With a deep grimace, he forced himself to swallow the offensive liquid while he glanced toward the door with natural curiosity. A Medical Technician and three other soldiers stomped through the front entrance.

  Gran dusted the flour off her hands and held one out in greeting, but the human in the lead merely looked for a place to set down his equipment.

  One of the other soldiers, not one Gregory had seen before, addressed Gran. “I assume you’ve been keeping up with the news, and know about giving samples for testing. It’s voluntary, but we strongly suggest everyone get tested to rule out possible health complications.”

  Gran gestured the newcomer in further and closed the door. “By all means. Anything we can do to help. Although, I have to say I’m confused by one thing. Wouldn’t it make more sense to have people report to a hospital if they start to feel sick?”

  The Medical Technician spoke up, his response sounding like something he’d already read several times in the last hour. “If there is any chance of illness, we want to quarantine it early to stop any possible spread.”

  Yet, here they were without protective equipment.

  “Ah, that’s the first bit of wisdom I’ve heard since all this began.” Gran smiled as she rolled up her shirt sleeves until she’d exposed a good bit of her forearm.

  Gregory watched, a touch curious, as the human sat on a chair next to the one Gran had dropped down on.

  The procedure was over quickly though he didn’t think Gran liked to see the small vial sticking out of her arm. She’d gone a little pale and looked away. Once it was over, and she was holding a small bit of cotton to the tiny injury, she looked up and met Gregory’s eyes with a little shudder. “I hate needles. Never could stand the sight of my own blood.”

  Jason, and then Alan took their turns in the chair, and the procedure was repeated twice more, just as painlessly. Lillian struggled out of his lap, and he let her take the chair next. He stood a moment later and made his way over to her side, attempting to appear bored and unconcerned. And he was—about giving blood. But he didn’t have to like how the human soldier in charge wandered over to hover at Lillian’s shoulder. This wasn’t random male interest in a pretty female.

  Gregory smiled. Clever humans. This one was hoping his mere presence would cause Lillian’s family to make a mistake. He also gathered from this one’s mind there were others nearby with some kind of device, which allowed them to see and hear what was going on within. He squelched the urge to wave at them in the human way, just to see how they would react.

  “Your turn,” Lillian said in a falsely cheery voice. Gregory grunted and sat down. He exposed his arm like he’d seen the others do. There was a poke and then he caught a faint whiff of his magic-laced blood. Had he been in gargoyle form, the tiny blood drawing device would not even have penetrated his skin.

  This had to be the first time in all his existence he’d allowed an enemy to claim first blood without a fight.

  Ah. The Mortal Realm offered him new delights every day. He was turning towards the medical person to see if he could intimidate him out of annoyance and sheer boredom when a sharp knock sounded at the door.

  Gran was already halfway there by the time Gregory transferred his attention from the Medical Technician to the door. He stretched his senses outward, and already had the newest arrival identified before he’d even entered.

  Gran opened the door, and Major Resnick stepped in, a greeting already on his lips.

  “Vivian, always nice to see you,” he shook her hand and then stepped around her after a moment and made straight for Lillian.

  The human at Gregory’s elbow removed the needle and put a small bit of cotton and a tiny bandage over the site. Gregory managed not to sneer. Ha, as if the tiny wound hadn’t already healed as soon as the metal was removed from his arm.

  “Lillian, good to see you again,” Resnick continued in his disarming small talk. “I take it the equine escape artists haven’t run off into the woods lately?”

  Eyes narrowing, Gregory studied th
e human warrior. Something was off. Resnick was a capable, astute leader. The type to take in a situation, study it from different angles, and then come to a tactical decision. Sociable, he was not. He’d probably prefer to take a bullet rather than make small talk.

  Lillian frowned and then gave a truthful, “I hope not. If they have, I’m sure they’ll be found.”

  “Always glad to help.” Resnick turned his attention fully to Gregory. “And you must be Lillian’s mysterious fiancé, which no one in town has met.”

  Gregory straightened from the chair and towered over the other humans in the room.

  Even in human form, he didn’t see the need to cram himself down into a smaller form than absolutely required. Of course, magic and shapeshifting didn’t have size limits. However, Gregory was just more comfortable seeing things from a certain vantage point. Making Major Resnick crane his head to look him in the eyes…that was an added benefit. Rather juvenile, but mildly rewarding all the same.

  “Name’s Gregory,” he mimicked what he’d seen on television and held out his hand to the human, “Nice to meet you, Major. Lillian told me about your meeting in the woods.”

  “Ah, as I told her, I’m always glad to be a help. Besides, it was nice meeting another of Vivian’s delightful clan.”

  Gregory chuckled at the human’s far from subtle inquiry. He stared down at the human, allowing a touch of challenge and his millenniums old gargoyle nature to rouse and show in his eyes.

  To the human’s credit, he held his gaze and returned Gregory’s unvoiced challenge.

  Gran came up to them before anything more interesting developed.

  “Major Resnick, can I interest you and your friends in some refreshments? There’s a pot of coffee in the kitchen and the cookies are still warm.”

  A couple of the humans showed mild interest, but Resnick merely shook his head. “Another time, we still have several stops to make.” He gave Gran a smile which held a hint of true warmth before glancing back at Gregory. “Don’t worry. As soon as everything settles, I’m sure I’ll find a reason to stop by.”