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

by Lisa Blackwood

  A pale, nebulous power dripped down the sides of the bed and gathered in an ever-spreading pool on the floor. After a moment, the shimmer intensified and began a purposeful crawl up the north wall of Lillian’s bedroom. What he’d first thought was a spell to loosen his hold on her mind was something of greater concern.

  His own magic answered his call with a skin-tingling rush. All his senses were riveted on the foreign spell and claws extended from his fingertips, poised to rend anything the hostile magic might summon. The silver flames crawling up the wall now flickered with the look of true fire. The mass seethed and heaved like wind-blown grass, and then with a bright flash, a window opened into another place.

  The teal-colored light of the Magic Realm illuminated a vast, circular room with a raised dais at the center. Occupying the dais, two massive thrones, carved of dark rock and polished until they resembled black glass, overlooked the rest of the room. Instead of a back wall, a series of stone arches allowed in light and provided a majestic view of white-capped mountains set against the backdrop of a cloudless sky. Presently, the thrones were as empty as the sky, yet by the shimmer of the polished stone floors, this room was well cared for.

  From the corner of his eye, Gregory caught movement. He’d forgotten the Fae Council members were still in the room with him. Whitethorn approached the magic window. He had a sword in one hand, point forward. With a blur of motion, he slashed at the image. The blade bit into the unseen wall behind, raining chips of plaster and white dust down across the floor.

  The reflection to the other world rippled like a stone had been tossed into a still pond.

  Blessedly, it was only an image and not a real gateway. When Whitethorn eased back to his original position a few steps in front of the other councilors, Gregory caught his eye. “Get out of the line of sight. The less this new enemy knows about our alliance, the better. Let them think Lillian and I are alone.”

  Whitethorn’s expression darkened, but he nodded and signaled the other immortals out of sight. The sidhe bowed in Gregory’s direction, then vanished as quickly as the rest. Gregory stared at the door Whitethorn had used a moment more. At least he had some allies, even if they were reluctant ones.

  Lillian thrashed upon the bed, fighting his compulsion to sleep. She made a soft exclamation and sat up next to him as she shrugged off the last of his sleep spell. After she took in her surroundings, including the new wall, she focused on him again. Her expression remained serene. A faint smile played across her lips. “Durnathyne, my Hunting Shadow, let me handle this.”

  The use of his old name startled him enough that she slipped by him and was half off the bed before he’d realized she was moving. He leaped into motion and repositioned himself to keep her behind him, fenced in between his outstretched wings. He held her in place with his tail for good measure. “Stay behind me. Your protection is my duty.”

  “For once, let me protect you. You’ll find these enemies don’t play by your rules, my beloved,” Lillian said. She didn’t fight him but remained behind him with her one hand resting on his back. “The demon soul the Lady of Battles grafted upon me thought it was under attack. It tried to summon help, but it exhausted itself. We are lucky it is not yet mature. Now I am in control, and I remember everything. Let me deal with this. Please.”

  “But I must—”

  “Protect your Mistress?” she asked, sounding sad. Then she pressed a kiss to the muscle of his shoulder as if in apology. “Always the noble protector. I think we’ve taken our disguises too far and you have forgotten we are equals in power.”

  The click of boots on stone tiles drew Gregory’s attention back to the image still rippling against the wall. Two columns of heavily armored guards marched into the room from opposite sides, converging upon the center dais with its raised thrones. Tall spears bristled above their heads, and they wore helms shaped in the image of horned demons and snarling beasts. If he’d had doubts about their allegiance, their surcoats with the black dragon against a red field quickly banished his misgivings. These were the Battle Goddess’s creatures.

  The black-clad guards positioned themselves in a semicircle directly in front of the viewing window, then froze in place. Silence, thick and heavy, pressed all around Gregory. He strained his ears. At first, he heard nothing, and then a soft scuffing sound teased his senses.

  A ripple went through the line of soldiers as they raised their spears and thumped the staves of dark wood against breastplates. Again, Gregory heard the sound. Louder now. Boot heels striking stone.

  A man of middle height stopped a few paces in front of the viewing mirror, his black and crimson armor polished until it glistened like blood and wet shadows. Gregory noted the armor looked to be composed of thousands of individual scales, and he wondered if it was grown and not made. At the man’s side, a small, graceful woman waited with her head bowed. A delicate chain peeked out from the flowing sleeve of her gown. The silver links glittered in the dim light, but abruptly vanished into gloom a few paces behind the woman, like they had been severed with an axe.

  Something about the shadows caught Gregory’s eye, diverting his attention from the leader to the small woman. It hit him then, a shock so profound he recoiled back a step. Behind him, Lillian smoothed a hand across his shoulder in a subtle caress.

  “Easy, my gargoyle,” she said, pitching her words to carry like she intended for the new arrivals to hear. “When you rescued me, you were not the only gargoyle there. They needed to practice capturing and holding one of your kind before they attempted to capture you, my pet.”

  At the mention of another gargoyle, the small woman with the manacled wrist gave the chain a tug. The shadows parted and a gargoyle materialized on the opposite side of the viewing mirror. He sidled up next to the woman and licked at her hands before bowing his head low. Then he settled at her feet. Like a loyal dog.

  Gregory’s stomach heaved. He looked over his shoulder at Lillian and whispered along their mental link, “Is this to be my future?”

  “Not if I can help it, my love.” Lillian’s voice filled his head. “Play along with me if you do not want to become their slave for real. As long as they think I’m winning you over to their side, they will not go to the trouble of coming here. They’ll assume I’ll bring you home to them once I’ve had my fun. Gregory, please play along no matter what I do. I promise not to shame you in front of the others. You have my word.”

  Lillian’s thoughts were as shocking as her hands sliding under the obstacle of his wings and around his sides in a gliding caress. Her fingers traced along the ridge of his tensed muscles.

  “You’re playing a dangerous game,” he cautioned.

  “I like danger,” Lillian said, her breath disturbing his mane and tickling his neck.

  Her tone, so like the Sorceress of old, warmed him. Then her hands shifted lower, her thumbs hooking under the top edge of his loincloth. And that wasn’t anything like his old Mistress.

  “Greetings, Commander Gryton,” Lillian said while she draped herself along Gregory’s back.

  “Daryna.” The man in the black and crimson armor raised his visor and nodded in her direction, though he didn’t take his eyes off Gregory for long. “Our Lady will be pleased you’ve finally decided to contact us. Where have you been?”

  “The Mortal Realm, as you already know.”

  The face looking out of the shadows of the helmet was human enough. Though that meant little. A number of creatures could pass for human at a distance. Considering this one’s location, Gregory doubted he had any human blood.

  “When you called your gargoyle and escaped, I have to say, we expected the worst.”

  “He woke early, sensing where I was and rushed to my rescue.” Lillian paused to smile at Gregory over her shoulder before returning her full attention to Gryton. “I wasn’t yet old enough to control him and he would have taken me back to Lord Death and destroyed all our plans. I knew I had to do something, so I convinced him our only avenue of escape
was through the Veil to the Mortal Realm.”

  “A risk,” Gryton countered.

  “Yes, but it worked. He had to turn to stone to heal from his injuries.”

  A rumble of threat built in his chest and when the armor-clad man took a step forward, Gregory released a glass-shaking growl.

  Lillian laughed, then with surprising speed, she stepped around him and pushed him back until he collided with the edge of the bed.

  “Easy, my Durnathyne. They’re no threat to me.” Lillian turned her attention back to Gryton. “My gargoyle has always been protective, but now he’s added handsome males to the list of things he doesn’t like me near.”

  “He’s fully matured and already yours?” Gryton questioned, doubt clear in his raised eyebrow.

  “Yes. As I said, I continued to work on his conditioning while he rested in his stone form.”

  “Good, you’ll have no problem bringing him home now.”

  “He’ll follow me anywhere. However, I’m not coming home yet.”

  “Do not make me retrieve you.”

  “You won’t have to. But why do you think I have not contacted you since coming here?”

  Gryton sighed and glowered at the woman holding the silver chain. “Because you were a rebellious young fool. I blame your dryad mother for allowing you too much freedom.”

  Gregory studied the woman. So, this was Lillian’s mother. He glanced between the woman and the chained gargoyle, wondering.

  “Perhaps you have cause to think me rebellious. I’m not coming home until Gregory is completely mine. Once he is, I’ll return and serve the Lady of Battles as she wishes. But Gregory is mine, and he’ll take orders from only me. I don’t share. And I won’t share the responsibility of his training and conditioning either.”

  “That is the talk of a traitor.”

  “If our Lady has a problem with how I choose to serve, let her judge me.”

  Gryton tapped a finger along one armor-clad thigh. “Why did you contact us, if not to say you were returning home?”

  “Two things. Have you checked your armory lately? You’ll find you’re missing a demon blade—and no, I didn’t steal one as I ran. But if there is more than one missing, I’d like to know how many, since a Riven tried to kill my gargoyle with one. And in this magicless realm, he came closer to death than I wish ever to see again.”

  Gryton swore and turned to glower at someone just beyond the window. “Your cursed blood magic is running amuck. You said the demon blades would help you control the rogue Riven.”

  A tall, slimly built woman with long brown hair walked into the frame. “I said it might help me regain control of them, but no spell works as it should in that realm.”

  Gryton huffed, looking like he’d like to take the woman’s head. Gregory recognized the blood witch from the last time he’d faced her in the Battle Goddess’s kingdom and would have cheered the commander on, if only to see the universe rid of a blood witch.

  The witch merely shrugged off the commander’s glower. “The Riven shouldn’t be an issue for Daryna. She already knows enough blood magic to control them.”

  Daryna laughed. “And waste my magic in this power-starved land? Tearing out their hearts is easier.”

  “Dangerous, though,” the witch said as she cocked her head, studying the Sorceress in a way Gregory didn’t like.

  His Sorceress just gave the witch a shrug. “As far as I can see, the only threats to my gargoyle have come from the Magic Realm. A pack of death hounds now serves the Riven. Who sent them?”

  The blood witch laughed, a clear tone of delight. “Commander Gryton thought to use them to spy upon you.”

  Daryna glared at Gryton. “They tried to eat my gargoyle.”

  Gryton scowled at Lillian. “All the more reason you should return home to the Magic Realm.”

  “Are you actually saying the Lady’s domain is safer?”

  He grunted. “I prefer my assets where I can protect them. Until you and the gargoyle are fully mature, you are both vulnerable. The Lady of Battles will be angry if you’re foolish enough to get killed. She doesn’t like having to start over. And I don’t like having to deal with an angry goddess. It’s not good for one’s immortality.”

  “I’m perfectly capable of protecting myself and my gargoyle. The Lady made certain of that. Now, back to my requests...”

  “Fine. What request?” His tone was indulgent, but Gregory was certain it was an act.

  “First, no more interference. Second, since you’ve sent demon blades and death hounds, you must have found a way to travel here, I’d like my mother and father to come. It wouldn’t hurt to have another gargoyle around to deal with the Riven while I finish taming mine. And no doubt, my mother has advice to help tame a gargoyle.”

  “I thought you said he was already yours?” Gryton paused and narrowed his eyes at Gregory before returning his attention to Lillian. “You don’t sound as confident now.”

  To anyone watching, Gregory hoped he looked appropriately tamed by Lillian’s power, his body language docile—the willing victim. While lying wasn’t one of his strongest talents, he’d certainly been honing that skill a great deal of late.

  “Oh, he is mine. I just wanted to know some of my mother’s secrets.” Lillian trailed her fingers down Gregory’s chest in a slow, leisurely descent. At the caress of her fingertips against his sensitive skin, his pulse picked up until it thundered in his ears, and he no longer had to fake the “willing” part.

  “Fine.” Commander Gryton waved a hand as if that would make Lillian stop touching Gregory. “I don’t need to witness any dryad and gargoyle mating habits. I’ll send your parents to you within a moon’s cycle, then I want you back within the season. You will report your progress once every fortnight until you return.”

  “As you wish.” Lillian bowed her head in the stranger’s direction. “I will expect mother’s arrival soon. But until then, I have other plans.” She pushed Gregory back on the bed, and he felt her touch his magic. Before he knew what was happening, he was shapeshifting into his human form.

  Gregory allowed Lillian to press him into the bed. She trapped him with her slight weight more surely than a rockslide. Her lips caressed his, and he closed his eyes, concentrating on boring things—like mending harnesses and polishing swords—while standing in ice-cold water.

  Lillian chuckled and nipped at his lips.

  “Nice try. Let me know how that works for you.”

  She broke off the kiss and looked over her shoulder at the enemy. “Goodbye for now, Commander.”

  A moment later, the magic feeding the viewing mirror dwindled to a trickle. The images of the other world quivered, and then shattered into a hundred grains of light and misted away into nothing.

  “I’m sure Gryton didn’t buy my little deception. He will send my mother sooner than expected,” Lillian said, then nibbled at her lower lip in a way Gregory found interesting. “I doubt she’ll be alone.”

  Gregory struggled into a sitting position, trying not to dwell on how soft and warm she was, or how much he liked her weight pressing against him. Instead, he snatched at the first question that came to mind. “Why did you ask for your parents?”

  She let him up, then sat on the edge of the bed. “I had to do something to pacify Gryton’s suspicions. He wouldn’t expect me to ask for help if I had something to hide. Besides, I want to rescue my father. He’s been a prisoner all my life. Even as a child, I wanted to help him.”

  “And your mother? What of her?”

  “My mother was born and raised there. That life is all she knows. While she serves the Lady of Battles, she isn’t evil.”

  “Anyone in service to the Battle Goddess opposes the Light.” He drew a deep breath. At least in his human form, without her dryad scent affecting him like a drug, he could almost think clearly.

  “You don’t know everything about the politics there. Those who serve the Lady of Battles do so because they see her as a lesser evil.”


  He schooled his features into a neutral expression. He wanted to hear her words without his reactions influencing them.

  “Not everyone within the Lady’s domain is evil. At least not compared to the demons which have been allowed to spread unchecked since the Twins went to war.”

  He tilted his head to one side and remained silent.

  Lillian crossed her arms. “These are not the lies the Lady of Battles tried to feed me. Many in her armies started out serving the Divine Ones but made mistakes along the way until they couldn’t face the Light. When the Light shunned them, they sought a life elsewhere. And the Lady of Battles will give shelter to any who will serve her in her fight against her brother.”

  “Your words sound reasonable. I’ll agree with some of what you say, but it doesn’t mean they can be saved.”

  “I’m not the Lady’s tool,” she said in a voice tinged with anger. Then it softened. “At least not yet.”

  “I know.”

  “And I’m not defending Gryton or his kind. I just wanted you to understand some of them didn’t have a choice. This wasn’t a life they chose. They were forced into it by circumstance. Some still honor their ancient duty and guard the Veil between the Realms, preventing more demons from escaping from the Void. We may be able to use that to our advantage one day.”

  “Very well. I will keep that in mind,” he mumbled, his mind already focused on the next problem. He did some quick math. Time was faster here than in the Magic Realm, but even then, he might only have days before Lillian’s mother came, trailed by her pet gargoyle. “Do you think your mother can be reasoned with?”

  “My mother loved both my father and me in her own strange way, but she is loyal to the Battle Goddess. My father was prisoner, not willing subject to the Lady of Battles, but I think he still loved my mother. That was when I was a child. I don’t know what has changed while I was here.”

  His stomach churned. No matter that it should have been impossible to change a gargoyle’s allegiance; it had been done. And if it could happen to one gargoyle, Gregory wasn’t arrogant enough to believe it couldn’t be done again.