Sorceress Hunting (A Gargoyle and Sorceress Tale Book 3)

by Lisa Blackwood

  It looked old and rugged, but the etched design didn’t appear to be from any culture she’d seen.

  “It belongs to my father,” the gargoyle said. “I borrowed it. I think you might have greater need of it. Most of your belongings were destroyed in the battle, or too contaminated to keep.”

  The battle. Right. Nasty vampire-like monsters. Members of her unit dead. It hadn’t been a morphine-inspired nightmare, not unless she was hallucinating still. She pushed back the panic and grief and focused on survival. She needed to keep her shit together for the next few hours and get back to base.

  The gargoyle pulled a pack from a shadowy recess she hadn’t noticed and rummaged around until he pulled out a large item that was unmistakably a canteen.

  Seeing it triggered a ravenous thirst. The gargoyle held it out to her. When she didn’t immediately take it, he gave it a little wiggle. The sound of sloshing water had her fingers tightening into a fist.

  “You’ve lost a lot of blood. You need the water to help recover your strength.” He held it closer to her and gave it another shake.

  Suspicion stayed her hand, but he was correct. If she was going to survive to report back, she needed the water. When he held it out a third time, she took it. The weight was nearly too much for her trembling arms. Damn, she was weak as a kitten.

  Her second attempt to lift the canteen met with success. Cold water bathed her mouth and lips, washing away the taste of old blood.

  She took three more swallows and then forced the canteen away. Thirst demanded she drain the damn thing, but she didn’t, and carefully screwed the ornate cap back on.

  With mild curiosity, her fingertips ran over it, feeling the jewels embedded on the sides.

  On the scale of fucking weird shit she’d seen tonight—the gargoyle across from her was way higher on the list than a strange canteen.

  She started to wipe her hand across her lips and stopped. Gore from the battle still coated her skin.

  “It’s alright. My blood and magic neutralized any taint upon your skin or uniform. It’s just old, dried blood now, nothing more sinister.”

  Right.

  A shower was a luxury she wasn’t likely to see for a while, even if she managed to escape her new friend and report back to base. Hell, did she ever want to get back to base and report to her CO. Then this whole mess could be someone else’s problem.

  “You’ve lost a lot of blood. What I gave you would have gone to healing the wounds and ridding you of Riven taint, as such it didn’t actually replace what you lost. Your own body will need to do that on its own.”

  Her stomach tightened into knots. Just like that he blasted her naïve thought to bits. Right. She’d gone mad and drank his blood. That was some fucked-up shit. This was never going to be someone else’s problem. She had gargoyle blood and god knows what else running through her veins, soaking into her cells.

  She’d seen some bad spots before, but nothing in her military career had readied her for this circus freak show.

  The gargoyle’s mobile ears drooped, plastering themselves against his mane, his expression one of hurt.

  “I’m not a circus freak.” His tone said he didn’t know what that was exactly.

  Tension rippled through her body anew. She hadn’t spoken out loud. She knew she hadn’t.

  “Hmmm.” She forced her breathing to calm. Her pulse still sped, but her training took over. “You know what I’m thinking.” She didn’t phrase it as a question, so added, “How?”

  “I told you my blood would link us for life.”

  Oh hell, that did sound familiar. When she’d been infected, those monstrous Riven bites leaching their evil into her mind and soul, she’d been able to feel what that taint wanted to shape her into. Her mind kept wanting to shy away, partly in horror, but more in disbelief.

  But she did remember the gargoyle. He’d given her a choice. A chance at life.

  She couldn’t deny she was healing, and herself once more. Logically, she was glad it was this juvenile and not a fully grown adult who had found her. Somehow, she doubted she’d still be alive to question this mental link he spoke of if an adult gargoyle had found her first. Maybe she should cut the kid some slack and see what kind of intel she might learn.

  “Sorry, if I lumped you in there with the circus freak thing. I was thinking more about those Riven beasts.”

  The gargoyle’s ears swung forward, and he gave her one of the toothiest grins she’d ever seen.

  Lord, those weapons, and this one was just a child.

  “Thank you for saving me.” Now, how to go about asking the next part? “And because of this blood sharing thing, you can read my thoughts?” There had to be a scientific explanation for all the crap that had happened in the last few hours.

  He came around the fire and bumped his muzzle under her hand. “No, but we can talk to each other mind to mind. That’s what you did. I just picked up on it. With training, you’ll be able to control it better.”

  “Seriously?”

  “Yes,” he said into her mind by way of demonstration.

  Anna held her breath, her mind whirling with all the possible implications and applications that could arise from his ability. The ability to communicate mind-to-mind—now there was one tactical advantage the military would certainly need to know about.

  “And this ability is something all gargoyles share?”

  “Yes. Most magically-gifted races have the ability to varying degrees.”

  Magical races? Oh boy, once she made it back to base, this was going to be the debriefing of a lifetime. Or a medical discharge and a few visits with a head shrink. “I think we’re getting ahead of ourselves,” she said and held her hand out. “Corporal Anna Mackenzie, Infantryman CFB Petawawa.”

  “I am Shadowlight, son of Stalks the Darkness and Born at the Mountain’s Foot Where the River Runs Cold—but mother says I can just call her River.”

  She committed the names to memory. “Well, Shadowlight, I will admit I’m interested in what else you can do besides this mind-to-mind communication.”

  Shadowlight launched into the topic, seemingly all too pleased to have someone to teach.

  Whereas she was all too happy to collect intel.

  *****

  Shadowlight answered her every question and offered more on subjects she didn’t even know to ask about. He knew he shared more than he should and that she thought she was plying him for her so-called intel. But in turn, he was studying and learning about her. Her loyalty and innate goodness. She was devotedly loyal to her people, but he also knew she hadn’t yet figured out she was now as much Clan and Coven as she was human. He didn’t know how to tell her she wasn’t completely human anymore.

  Already, there were a few changes he could see. Her skin had lost its earlier sickly greyish tint, and now glowed a healthier brown tone which was probably her natural color. Her eyes, once the strange cream and brown bicolor of a human’s, were now as black as his. Her nails, too, had darkened like his talons.

  He’d bet one of Gran’s cookies the human hadn’t noticed those changes yet since the gore from last night’s battle disguised her new retractable talons rather conveniently.

  He decided not to enlighten her. There would be time for that later. As it was, dawn was approaching, and he really should go back and check on the Medical Technician Greenborrow had ordered him to watch. Guilt spurred him in the gut. He should have left quite some time ago, but he’d gotten distracted.

  “I must go,” he stated as he extracted himself from the small confines of the shelter. “I have been away too long. My parents will come looking for me soon.” Or mind call him, and he didn’t want to be near the human if they should contact him. They might be able to sense her proximity to him. Out loud he added. “And you do not want to be found by them or the other Fae yet. They would consider you a threat.”

  The human nodded. “A security risk. Those I understand.”

  “Good,” he said, happy she was so comp
liant. “I’ll leave you then, but I will return at nightfall to move you to a safer shelter. In the meantime, I’ve erected a dome around this site. The magic barrier will protect you from the elements and predators. You’ll be safe. There is some food in the pack. Gran made it for everyone. The…trail mix is rather good, as are the granola bars, and I especially like the peanut butter cookies. Goodbye, Corporal Anna Mackenzie.”

  “What? Wait, but we’re just…”

  He didn’t wait to hear the rest and was already darting into the surrounding forest, summoning his shadow magic as he ran so as not to give away her location to any other Fae that might be nearby.

  All in all, he thought his first meeting with his pet human had gone well. She seemed reasonably intelligent, and he had high hopes she could provide the other Fae with valuable insight into the minds of their human enemies. And he rather hoped she might become his friend. He would like that.

  Chapter Twelve

  Lillian dropped the armful of wood she’d taken from the shed out back and placed it off to the side as she knelt before the cold fireplace. The night was chilled, cold enough for a fire. She hoped it didn’t signal an early fall and subsequent winter. It felt like she’d already missed most of summer. Though, healing in a hamadryad for three months tended to do that.

  The fire was for Gregory. Not that he was ever cold. He was his own heat source, but she sensed he missed things from his world. While she didn’t know what kind of accommodations the Magic Realm boasted, she figured fire was probably something both Realms shared. Hence, she was crouched before the fireplace in their master bedroom.

  Old ashes still dusted the bottom from the last time she’d built a fire—months before when she’d still led a normal life, completely oblivious to the fact she wasn’t human, or magic was real.

  She swept out the ashes more by routine than focused effort, her mind on other, greater, problems than a few ashes. Gregory craved closeness. Yet after what had happened the night the Siren enchanted Gregory, Lillian wasn’t sure how to maintain their earlier closeness without accidentally revealing what had happened between them. She felt her stomach tighten with nerves just thinking about the lies and how she’d stripped Gregory of the memory.

  Sex. It’s called sex. Grow up and deal with it, she mentally scolded herself. If nothing comes of it, then nothing comes of it, and Gregory certainly doesn’t need to beat himself up for breaking some archaic vow.

  At least that was her reasoning for using the collars to make him forget. Though she wondered in a small part of her mind if she wasn’t just using that excuse so Gregory wouldn’t realize how foolish she’d been. She’d done a few embarrassing things in her life, but she also knew if Gregory looked at her with betrayal dulling his gaze, a part of her would die. She wanted to be his equal, to make him proud, but she also knew nothing she’d done that night was worthy. The greater shame—she knew in her heart the Sorceress of old would have found another way.

  Yes, she’d done what she’d thought was best under the circumstances to save as many human lives as possible. But if Gregory lost respect in her because of it?

  Well then, she’d just have to be strong and keep her secret because there was no way she wanted to lose Gregory’s respect or have him loath himself.

  Given a choice, she’d make sure neither outcome came to pass. Which brought her to her first relationship hurdle. How to give Gregory what he needed without revealing something forbidden had already occurred. If she tried to guard against him intruding on her thoughts, he’d just get more suspicious, and then sniff out what had happened. He could read her far too well—actually knew some of her thoughts when they were touching.

  So she would make certain her thoughts were clear and obvious, and not give him reason to dig deeper.

  She hoped her plan with the fire was a good start. If it wasn’t, she’d know pretty quickly, too. Subtle Gregory wasn’t.

  *****

  She had the fire burning merrily by the time Gregory exited the bathroom with his customary two towels tied around his waist. His ebony mane was hanging around his shoulders and still dripping water.

  A smile tugged at her lips. Gregory, predictable as always, made straight toward her with another towel in one hand and a large comb in the other.

  He stopped next to her, still towering over her in his silent way as he stared down at the top of her head. The mat she’d set out by the fire was big enough even for Gregory to stretch full length on. She patted the mat. “I know we should get some rest since we have to be up again in a few hours, but I’m still wound too tight to sleep. I thought we could help each other relax.”

  Gregory made a deep huffing sound in humor but dropped down next to her.

  “Here,” she held her hand out for the comb, “I’ll start with your mane. The fire’s heat will help it dry.”

  She knelt behind him, with her knees to either side of his broad hips, and began working loose the tangles in his mane. His wings spread out to the sides to allow her in closer to his back, so it wasn’t such a reach. She quickly fell into a routine. The rhythmic brushing relaxed her nearly as much as it did him. She took her time until every tangle was out, and his mane flowed smoothly down his back.

  When she was finished at last, she stretched up and laced her arms around his neck in a backward hug.

  Their nightly routine brought her a deep sense of peace. They remained silent, words not needed between them. He brought her palms up to his lips and planted warm kisses on each while he curled his muscular tail across her hips and along her back. The tip curled around her shoulder and under her chin. She’d grown familiar with his way of returning her hug. With her cheek pressed against his damp mane, she closed her eyes and inhaled his pleasant scent, made stronger by his shower.

  With another slow, easy smile, she pressed a kiss to the bulky muscle of one shoulder. Gregory rumbled happily and twisted towards her.

  “Hah! No, you don’t. Tonight is for you. You’re the one who dodged bullets.” She slowly ran her fingers over the healed grazes on his shoulder, flank, and wing. “Well, mostly dodged.”

  “I’d have taken worse to protect you.”

  “I know.” Lillian ran her hands down his back, skimming them between his powerful wing joints, where they merged smoothly with his flight muscles. His wings shifted at her touch as if the light caress tickled. “You’ve really got to stop trying to martyr yourself.”

  “Never.”

  She huffed out a good imitation of his annoyance. “Well then, I’ll just have to keep making it up to you, I suppose.”

  Gregory turned to her, a hint of wicked humor in his gaze.

  “Subtle, Gregory, really subtle.” She smiled and made a gesture encompassing the entire mat. “Lay down.”

  With another of his contented rumbles, he did as she instructed. She noted he completed the task with far more grace than she could have managed. When his head was resting comfortably on one of his folded forearms, he rolled his eyes in her direction, still not saying anything, just waiting for her to make the next move.

  Lillian needed to fill the silence with something more than tension. “Did you know I was supposed to start college this fall? I was so pleased I got accepted—I didn’t think I would, because I was homeschooled. At twenty, I’d already be a couple years older than most other students going in. I figured what the hell, so what if I was twenty and not eighteen. I wanted to become a massage therapist.”

  She reached across him to snatch up the massage oil where she’d left it warming close to the fire. His ears lifted from his mane to track her movements but he didn’t otherwise move. “I knew Gran wasn’t happy about my decision to attend college. I didn’t know why, since I planned to come back and practice at the Spa once I was finished school.” Pouring a little oil into the palm of her hand, she started on the muscles between his wings, working her way slowly upward to his shoulders. He shifted slightly and sighed deeply, tension flowing out from him as she worked.


  “In truth, I’m not sure if I could have left you. I didn’t understand it at the time, but I was becoming more and more drawn to you,” she laughed self-consciously, “a stone statue. Now it also makes sense why Gran didn’t want me to leave. She was protecting me like you’d asked. What would you have done if the Riven hadn’t attacked me back in the spring? What if you hadn’t awoken early from your healing sleep?”

  “You wouldn’t have left me, not for long.” He huffed softly, his ears swiveling in her direction again. “But had you somehow managed to fight the draw between us long enough to have traveled any great distance, I would have awoken and followed you. Although, I wouldn’t have been very happy to find you’d left me behind.”

  Lillian laughed. “I can imagine how our first meeting would have gone under those circumstances.”

  The idle talk had calmed her nerves and she continued, much more relaxed.

  Unhurried, she made her way lower, paying special attention to the joints of his wings, which made him practically squirm, and then his sides. To her delight, she found he was ticklish there, too. When she moved on to his lower back, he sighed again, relaxing now that she was away from the ticklish zone. As she worked her way down, she hit the upper edge of his towel. She traced along the terrycloth’s edges, a delicate caress, and then she reached for the knot at the side, where he’d tied the two together.

  Gregory held himself perfectly still as she worked at the knot—he seemed calm and relaxed outwardly, but she felt the line of tension run through his muscles in what could only be anticipation. When she glanced upward at his face, she found him watching her with half closed eyes, their dark depths giving nothing away.

  She got the knot untied and tapped him on the hip. “Up,” she ordered as she grabbed another towel warming by the fire. He came to his knees, and she took the damp towels from his bath and tossed them off to the side. He lowered himself back down to the mat with another contented sigh, and she laid one of the fire warmed towels across his hips.