Gargoyle and Sorceress Boxset 2

by Lisa Blackwood

  “Jeez, you need to chill bro.”

  Obsidian rumbled something low and unintelligible into his folded arms.

  Unaware of the undercurrent passing between Anna and her gargoyle partner, Prairie Dancer made sounds of sympathy as she began to heal the worst of Anna’s broken bones. A few light touches, a warm power that was just this side of too hot, some deeper probing, and then the dryad was leaning back to admire her work.

  “There. Almost done.” Silver magic dancing between her fingers, the healer administered another round of the hot, healing spells. “You should already have full mobility back, though the bruises will take another day to fade completely.”

  Her injuries didn’t take near as long as healing Obsidian’s, which told Anna just how much damage the stubborn gargoyle had sustained without asking for help.

  “Never should’ve let you carry me back,” she sent along their link. “It only did a number on your already strained ligaments.”

  “Wasn’t going to trust anyone else to carry you.” His voice came out a deep, rumbling purr.

  “Is there anything else you’d like me to do?” Prairie Dancer asked the elder.

  “No, that will be all.” The elder never took her eyes off her work.

  Prairie Dancer nodded and then backed away.

  The room grew silent, and Anna found herself watching Maradryn work. There was something mesmerizing about watching her hands knead flesh, tissue, and bone back into proper alignment. Anna even found the silvery magic the healer summoned fascinating to watch as it whirled and dipped and swayed to some unseen breeze. Would she and Obsidian ever be able to manipulate that kind of magic? It would be handy, certainly.

  Hell, maybe he already had the ability.

  There were so many things she didn’t know about him. But one thing was for sure, he was bound to have learned many things in the thirteen years he’d been here.

  “Once you complete your novice tests, I’ll be able to help you learn at a swifter rate than I did,” Obsidian whispered sleepily into her mind, lowering his mental shields for the first time since he slammed them up hard enough to make her teeth rattle.

  “I’m sorry I hurt you. I’ll be more careful in the future.”

  “It’s all right. Don’t worry about it.”

  Because really, Anna thought to herself, please keep the shield up next time you get horny. I totally don’t want to see that.

  Obsidian chuckled, telling her he’d caught her internal thought. But he didn’t seem insulted. Anna relaxed. “This strange stream of consciousness we’re sharing is going to be a touch awkward at times.”

  “We’ll be too busy training to worry,” Obsidian countered.

  “Or too busy dodging trouble more like.”

  “Might have noticed that, yes.” Lifting his head from his arms, he grinned at her. “That’s how I ended up needing a healer.”

  “At least Reaver looked worse off than you. That’s something. Think they assigned an entire team of healers to him.”

  “I totally owned his ass, didn’t I?”

  “You sound drunk. Cocky and drunk.” Anna felt herself grinning at him again.

  “The drunk feeling—it’s one of the side effects of healing magic.”

  “What about horny? That one of its side effects too?” Frick! Where did that come from?

  “You sound a little drunk, yourself.” His thoughts had a drawl to them. “Feeling a little warm and tingly?”

  “Nope.”

  “Really? I’ve had females flirt with me before. I know the signs.”

  Damn, this conversation had gone sideways in a hurry.

  “Am not. Now get out of my head. I’m tired.”

  Obsidian nodded and lowered his head back down on his forearms.

  She thought he was finished until he started again.

  “The two dryads didn’t stir my blood.”

  Gawd. “Just stop. We can take up the conversation in the morning when we’re not drunk from healing.”

  “I just want you to know that it was the battle rage and bloodlust. It just morphed into other…things. It’s nothing you need to be concerned about.”

  “Not concerned.” Her own gargoyle nature whispered that her statement wasn’t entirely accurate.

  Argh! Her life had been less complicated before the magic.

  Maradryn snorted. “Goddess! You two. I can hear every word of your conversation. And, Anna, he’s telling the truth when he said he wasn’t reacting to us dryads.”

  “Yep. Got that sorted.”

  Maradryn actually rolled her eyes. “I’m finished healing Obsidian, but I want you both to stay the night here in the healers’ quarters. I’ll check on you in the morning. Besides, if you venture outside in your present condition, one of you will likely reveal too much about your special bond to others.”

  Anna nodded in agreement. Besides, the last thing she wanted was to attempt rope ladders with a magic-drunk gargoyle in tow.

  Obsidian grunted happily and soon fell asleep.

  “There are blankets in the cupboards along the west wall. Feel free to use them.” Maradryn went to a basin and washed her hands. “Sleep, you’ll find yourself growing tired. It’s part of the healing magic. I’ll return at first light to check you over.”

  Anna nodded.

  The elder patted Anna’s shoulder. “Later, after the festival is over, I’d like some time to study your gargoyle nature. I must admit to being fascinated. While you were locked away in stone, I even once asked the Council to allow Shadowlight to convert another, so we could study the change.”

  Lifting her gaze, Anna met Maradryn’s. Her earlier tiredness vanishing in a cloud of alertness. “Even after only one short meeting, I can’t imagine that was popular with your fellow councilors.”

  “It wasn’t. But that doesn’t mean it’s not important to learn as much as possible about what the Battle Goddess created.”

  “True.”

  “Then you’ll allow me to study you and your new nature as time allows?”

  “Sure.” It wasn’t like she could say no after promising Obsidian that she’d try to blend in. And this woman was like a mother to him. Anna wouldn’t make her an enemy if she could help it.

  With a nod, the older woman turned and retreated, leaving Anna in the room with a sleeping gargoyle.

  Laying back on the bench, she stared up at the ceiling. A silly urge nagged at her until she finally gave in.

  “Goodnight, Shadowlight. Love you.”

  A happy, sleepy grunt of acknowledgment came from the other bench.

  Grinning, Anna closed her eyes.

  Chapter 17

  (The Present)

  Servants and guards alike scurried to move aside for Captain Vaspara as she hurried down the corridor, her boot heels loud against the polished black floors. If she’d had a choice, her long-legged strides would be carrying her away from the Battle Goddess’s altar room, not toward it.

  But she didn’t have a choice and now wasn’t the time to be late, let alone absent.

  After the debacle with Shadowlight and Anna escaping, Gryton turning traitor, and the Avatars arriving to wreak havoc, the Lady of Battles was in a foul mood. Vaspara considered each hour that she was still breathing a win.

  Especially with Captain Taryin still among the living. More’s the pity, that the Avatars hadn’t had time to eradicate the blood witch. Even though she and Taryin served the Battle Goddess, Vaspara didn’t trust the witch. Some magic was just too dark and chaotic to be controlled without consuming the user.

  In a deep, dark part of her mind where impractical thoughts went to die, she wished Gryton had confided in her and Sorac. Together they might have found a way to use Anna and Shadowlight’s escape to kill the blood witch and blame it on the hybrid and cub.

  But Fate never sent her down the easy path.

  Perhaps it was time to plan an escape. Even the Mortal Realm was starting to look appealing.

  The corridor ahead i
ntersected another, and she heard footsteps. Her magic confirmed it was Sorac a moment before he fell into stride next to her. They acknowledged each other with a nod.

  Of all the denizens in the Battle Goddess’s keep, the male next to her was the closest thing she had as a trusted confidant. They were both survivors and didn’t trust anyone besides each other. Romance had no part in their relationship, nor did she consider him a food source. Though he’d once offered, somewhat reluctantly, to let her feed after she’d been hurt out on patrol.

  She’d declined. Always a wise choice. Sex with a firedrake-fertility god hybrid might ruin her taste for other men. And a half-breed succubus who couldn’t feed wouldn’t long survive. Besides, she wouldn’t risk a child. Sorac had once joked he could get even the most barren of wombs to bring forth life.

  “Who do you think is getting sacrificed to the blood witch today?” Sorac asked into the silence.

  It wasn’t asked in jest. The Battle Goddess had been impressed that the witch had survived a one on one attack with the Sorceress. There was speculation among the surviving captains that their goddess was now grooming Taryin to replace Gryton as Commander.

  “Don’t care as long as it’s not one of our soldiers or us. Worked too damn hard to train them.”

  “We should subtly remind our goddess of that fact.”

  Vaspara snorted. “For what good it will do.”

  They continued in silence, and all too soon reached the altar room. When she and Sorac entered, they found they weren’t the first or the last to arrive. Korsha and her younger sister, Ernya, had returned early from two of the border patrol units. The elegant half-sidhe, half-demoness women didn’t have one silver-blonde hair out of place.

  They were in stark contrast to the survivors of the unexpected attack by the Avatars. Vaspara’s own skin was blemished by magical fire and bruises. She was lucky not to have sustained worse considering how unprepared they’d been.

  At least the Battle Goddess was not yet here. A good sign.

  As they waited, another of the surviving captains arrived. Bervicta limped over to stand with her and Sorac. The harpy was in worse shape than Vaspara or Sorac. The feathers of one wing were burned away, and a third of her olive-toned skin was now charred black and oozed clear liquid.

  She was a tough old bird, though, and the injuries didn’t diminish her fighting skills or cunning intelligence. In time, she’d heal, if something didn’t happen to her first. For her part, Vaspara would do what she could to protect the other female.

  “Looks like you finally got yourself a harem.” Bervicta’s sarcastic comment was aimed at Sorac.

  The firedrake had already commented on how he was the sole surviving male captain still in service to the Lady of Battles.

  “Not how I wished to achieve such a thing, but I did notice my fellow males did not fare so well. Let’s not point that out to Taryin. I don’t need the witch setting her sights on me. She tends to devour lovers who fail to please her.”

  Bervicta snorted. “Don’t fear, Pretty One, Vaspara and I will protect you.”

  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 then 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 Dray
drak 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.”