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

by Lisa Blackwood

  Not enough power, it whispered into her mind.

  She dropped her mental shields to speed up the transfer of power, and Gregory was suddenly in her mind, his grief and rage buffeting her. She blinked and then realized he’d been there the whole time, but she’d been so focused on the situation that she’d blocked him from her consciousness. Now there was only one way to protect him. She showed him what was unfolding while she shoved all her recent memories at him. The number of enemies, their plans to force the sword to serve them and tear a hole in the Veil between the Realms, and all tactical information about the meadow. Then with that done, she sent one last message. “Gregory, you mean everything to me, and I’m sorry to cause you pain.”

  Lillian turned her thoughts from him to the task at hand as she forced her connection to the Spirit Realm wide open. Power flowed through her. She screamed as a wild current tore through her thoughts. Her vision blurred, and then cleared in time to see a demon standing in front of her, his arm raised, the silver glint of a blade in his hand. Pain exploded in her shoulder and a second scream tore free of her chest.

  Chapter 40

  THE WORLD BELOW STREAKED past in a blur as Gregory winged closer to Lillian. He was almost there when her thoughts came to him, flowing across his own. His wings faltered. Shocked, he grasped at her thoughts as he leveled out his flight.

  Her thoughts flooded his mind with the knowledge she’d gathered. The demons. The sword. Their plan to invade this Realm through the torn Veil. The Riven had been planning a rebellion long before the first one hitched a ride to this realm with him.

  He smelled evil carried on the breeze and overlaying that odor, the distinct scent of the Lord of the Underworld.

  Gregory was almost there. Hope filled his numb wings and burning lungs, and with renewed strength, he sped toward his other half.

  Another image of the enemies flashed through his mind. A demon with a dagger poised to strike.

  Despair engulfed him. He’d hunt the demons down, find the deepest abyss in the Magic Realm, and imprison them with their own dark magic until all they would know was unending torment. And it wouldn’t be one-quarter of the pain he’d feel for failing Lillian.

  Lillian’s fear washed across his mind, her agony resonating within his soul. He roared one short, sharp howl, echoing her pain.

  Chapter 41

  LILLIAN AWOKE, A HOT, wet agony slicing along her stomach. Had they stabbed her with a branding iron? She gritted her teeth and looked down. She was naked, her abdomen a red ruin. Blood soaked her bare legs. A second, smaller ember of fire gnawed at her shoulder where a demon blade was buried—probably the same dagger they’d all but gutted her with.

  A whimper escaped. Her breath came quick and shallow. She’d been prepared for death, but not this pain. A swift death. She’d been too naive.

  She didn’t remember the demons moving her, but a slab of stone propped at an angle now supported her back. She hung from her bound hands, her shoulder joints so taut something would dislocate if she moved even a little.

  Blood covered the stone, running down its surface in rivulets. Jagged little flashes of light sparked at the edge of her vision. She wasn’t going to pass out, not yet. When she closed her eyes, she could sense Gregory near. His thoughts were no longer crisp but muffled by whatever the demon blade was doing. Or perhaps it was from losing so much blood. She was weakening fast.

  Just not fast enough.

  Gregory would arrive in time to watch her die and then he’d get himself killed. He’d died for her so many times in the past; he deserved to live this time. While she couldn’t will herself to die faster, perhaps she could find another way to defeat them. Lillian had hoped the demons would trigger whatever trap the Lady of Battles had laid on her soul when they stabbed her, but Gregory must have done something to keep her demon soul from waking. Now the stupid magic couldn’t even kill her properly.

  Focusing proved difficult, but she gathered her thoughts and began picking at the tight knot of coiled memories and magic at her core. There must be something there she could use. She just had to get to it.

  Blood continued its slow descent. It circled around her ankle and dripped off her bare toes, and still, Lillian dug deeper into her memories. Then she found what she sought, a tether linking her demon soul to the Lady of Battles. Lillian followed the path, reaching, stretching, seeking until another powerful and fearsome being acknowledged her with a caress like lightning across her skin.

  “My child,” the other said as a malevolent power snaked through Lillian.

  A mild surge of relief escaped Lillian in a giddy laugh. The demons turned puzzled eyes in her direction, but she didn’t care if she’d given herself away. There was nothing the demons could do to stop her. Power poured from her and flooded out across the meadow. Fog rose from the earth, shifting and flowing into thick ropes that wove themselves into a billowing tapestry. The mist solidified and became a silver-edged window, like the time Lillian had spoken to Commander Gryton, but this one was much larger.

  The Lady of Battles reclined on the garnet-colored stone steps inside her temple. She raised her head, and then came to her feet with the soft rustle of fabric and the rattle of chains. With the deep-red stairs and the polished-black onyx of her temple behind her, the Lady of Battles glowed pale against the darkness, an ethereal creature with alabaster skin and green eyes. A delicate bare foot poked out from under the hem of her cream-colored dress as she descended the steps. Her slim-figured elegance was at odds with the blood-red breastplate and manacles encircling her wrists and ankles.

  The goddess continued down the steps in an unhurried manner. Her billowing skirt reminded Lillian of sails in a strong wind, the chains disappearing into the shadows, the ship’s rigging.

  It wasn’t until the Lady of Battles reached the foot of the stairs and knelt to peer through the shimmering window that Lillian realized her true size. The dark goddess was a giant, like a Titan of old. The individual links of the chain binding her were the size of Lillian’s torso.

  If she was not so far gone, Lillian would have been terrified. But terror was too great an emotion to muster now.

  “What is this?” The Lady of Battles demanded, her voice booming across the clearing. “Wee little demons, do you seek to better yourselves?” Her voice grew softer and darker. “Better yourselves by sacrificing my daughter? I think not.”

  Lillian was so woozy, she could barely think.

  “I have planned too long to let your foolish greed destroy my work. Release my daughter, and I might let you live,” the Lady said, while her piercing gaze tracked everything in the clearing. The two green orbs at last settled on Lillian. “Daughter, let me help you.”

  Accompanying the words, Lillian felt more of the foreign magic invade the meadow from the viewing window. The demons hissed at one another, nearly stumbling over each other in their hurry to get away. The magic continued to pour into the meadow, and then it reached her.

  Lillian burned and itched. A searing agony shot through her. She bucked and spasmed with the pain, feeling as though her bones were melting and reshaping themselves.

  Chapter 42

  GREGORY FLARED HIS wings to slow his descent while he took in a scene more horrible than he’d expected. A chaotic mix of power swirled around the meadow. But it was the essence of his greatest enemy that overlaid every other scent. Somehow the Lady of Battles was here.

  “You’re late,” the Lady said as Gregory landed. “Again.”

  Gregory froze at the sight of the silver window occupying half the meadow. The Lady of Battles looked out upon the scene from the steps of her temple. In front of the mirror was a small slab of stone propped up haphazardly by another boulder half-buried in the ground. Upon the stone altar, Lillian hung suspended by her wrists. Blood dripped down the length of her naked body and coated the stone beneath. With a cry, Gregory bolted into motion, uncaring if he was about to walk into the battle goddess’s trap.

  Up close, Lillia
n was gray, and her breath came in shallow gasps. Her eyes, wide with fear, met his. He slashed the ropes tying her to the crude stone altar. She slumped into his arms.

  “Go. I don’t want you to die,” she whispered.

  “Foolish, beloved Sorceress. I can endure much, but I cannot live without you.” He lowered his muzzle to her and rested his forehead against hers. This was all he could do. Hold her while she died. “I’ll follow you. Soon we’ll start over.” He would seek out the Lady of Battles in her prison and pick a fight he couldn’t win.

  “No, love,” Lillian said. “If you challenge her and die in her prison, she’ll trap your soul as she did mine, force you to be reborn into a body she can control. That’s what she wants. She tried to heal me, make me into her tool, but I’m too weak—now I’m useless to her. She needs you.”

  “Gargoyle, feed her some of your blood,” the Lady of Battles commanded.

  Tears flowed freely. He didn’t care if the Battle Goddess witnessed his grief or took joy in it. He caressed Lillian’s hair as he tried to comfort her as best he could. This never got easier, ever. “I have you,” he whispered into her hair. “The pain will be gone soon. Let go. I’ll join you shortly.”

  The Lady of Battles slammed her chains against the stone of her temple. “You don’t have to watch her die. Share your blood!”

  “It will only prolong her pain,” Gregory growled at the goddess. How he wished the Divine Ones had let him destroy this creature. “There is no magic in this Realm strong enough to fix what is broken. I can feel the wound to her soul. Even on the border of the Spirit Realm, with the full complement of our power at our call, this would be taxing to heal. If you possessed even a little mercy, you would leave me in peace for this.”

  “Fool. Do you think I would make one of my creatures so easy to kill? She is my pride, my greatest weapon. I made her harder to kill, not easier. Give. Her. Your. Blood. Unless you want to watch her die. Choose.” The Lady of Battles crossed her arms and sat down to wait.

  Gregory glanced down at his Mistress. Could it be that simple to save her? Did he care if he was playing into the battle goddess’s hands? No.

  He exhaled sharply as he slashed his talons across his chest, then forced her limp body to rest against his. She turned her head, sniffing. When she laid a quivering hand on his chest and skimmed her lips along his skin, he shuddered. Her warm tongue slid over the wound, and her throat worked as she drank his life-giving blood. After he forced his breathing to slow and his mind to focus, he looked for changes in Lillian. At first, he sensed no difference in her condition, and then she gasped in pain as spasms shook her body.

  Before he could react, she grasped both his shoulders and pushed him back against the altar. Her lips sealed more firmly over the wound. Her throat worked as she swallowed.

  Magic from the Spirit Realm thrummed through his veins, and he released it into her. He continued to pour more and more into her, as much as she would take. Her breathing eased, and her color improved with each passing moment. Recovery was swift. The wound on her shoulder was gone completely and only pale, white lines marked the skin of her belly. He stroked his fingers over the area to reassure himself.

  After several moments Lillian stirred in his arms, pushing at his chest and putting a little space between them so she could lap at the blood making its way toward his abdomen. Lillian’s fingers skimmed lower, making him shiver. He savored her shocking caress a few moments before he tightened his arms around her shoulders to prevent her from following the trail of blood. Lillian made a soft sound of protest, which he did his best to ignore. When she was still again, he rested his chin on her hair and watched his enemy. Thanking the Lady of Battles wasn’t something he’d ever thought he’d contemplate in his life.

  “Thank you,” he whispered.

  “You’re welcome, Protector. You might return the favor by serving me...”

  Gregory gently placed Lillian on the ground, then stood to face the Lady of Battles. “My allegiance cannot be bought or sold.”

  “Perhaps you’ll come to think differently. What would you be willing to do to save your beloved Sorceress when she’s carrying your youngling?” The Lady of Battles straightened from her crouch. “I think you’ll come to serve me to protect them from Divine wrath. You’ll have no choice. What a splendid addition to my army you will make, both of you.”

  “I will not serve you.”

  “Fight me if you wish, but I’ll still get what I want in the end. Wouldn’t it be better to come to me willingly? You could fulfill your deepest and oldest wish—to be with your Sorceress and reciprocate the deep love you share.”

  Gregory shook his head. “I won’t serve you.”

  “We’ll see how long you last.” The Lady of Battles chuckled. “I think you’ll find my daughter has an aggressive side. One of the traits I instilled in her. Oh, she’s overly protective of her gargoyle, too.” Chains rattled against each other as she leaned forward suddenly and gestured at something behind Gregory’s shoulder. “Beware!”

  Distracted by Lillian’s feeding and the Battle Goddess’s startling admission, he hadn’t heard the creature coming up behind him until too late. A cold, sucking pain lodged itself in his back as the demon blade sunk deep. He twisted, lashing out at his attacker. A second dagger buried itself in his chest. He dropped to his knees, shock sapping his strength. He tugged at the second dagger, but he lacked strength, and it wouldn’t release its grip.

  “Now that was foolish, little demon,” the Lady of Battles said. “You have angered my daughter.”

  “Gregory?” Lillian cried. She called to him again, her voice changing, becoming deeper, more menacing.

  Chapter 43

  HER GARGOYLE WAS HURT.

  Her beloved needed her.

  No one harmed her gargoyle and lived.

  Lillian screamed Gregory’s name even as the fraying coil of memories unraveled within her. New strength flooded her body. She burned and itched as her body began shifting into a new form. With a wet sound, the skin of her back parted and wings erupted from her shoulder blades. The new weight altered her balance, and she dropped to all fours. Talons lengthened her fingers even as horns sprouted on her forehead. She shook herself from muzzle to tail tip, stretching and testing new muscles. Then as silent as death on a cold winter night, she stalked her prey.

  The demon boy remained hunched over Gregory, one hand braced against the gargoyle’s shoulder while the other gripped the hilt of a demon blade, the boy’s complete attention focused on killing her mate. Ecstasy radiated off the demon’s features as he fed, the look of pleasure made all the worse by the innocence of his softly curved lips, rounded cheeks, and thick lashes dark against his pale skin.

  A soft growl escaped her as she lunged at the vile creature. The boy jerked his gaze in her direction, shock clear on his cherub-like face. At the last moment, her opponent twisted with inhuman speed. Her jaws closed on empty air.

  With each beat of her heart, her gargoyle instincts sharpened. The breath-stealing stink of demon, a fluttering heartbeat, footfalls crunching through leaves—nothing escaped her heightened senses. Her second lunge landed her half on his back, and she sank her teeth deep into the meat of his shoulder. But this demon was strong, fed additional strength from several of his brethren, and he bucked her off. She crashed to the ground with a grunt of pain. Even before she caught her breath, she rolled to her feet and took up a protective stance next to Gregory.

  Anger surged through her veins, pulsing in time to her heartbeat. She charged the demon again, snapping at it in a fit of fury. Another Riven darted into the fight. It slashed at her flank. Its claws dug four shallow grooves across her skin. Snarling, she chased it. It wasn’t fast enough to get clear of her leap. She landed on its back and drove it into the ground. One bite to the back of its neck and she severed its spine. With a twist of her powerful neck muscles, she beheaded the creature. The sharp odor of tainted blood and rot overwhelmed her sense of smell. Shaking
her head, she sprang away from the demons, then returned to Gregory’s side.

  At the sight of the demon blades, rage flared to life again. She straddled Gregory, sheltering him from further attack with her own body while she shared magic with him.

  “Release him,” she ordered the demon blades. Neither was the one she’d remade, but they sensed darkness greater than themselves and leaped to obey. When the second had fallen to the ground, she nosed Gregory.

  Touching him brought her a moment of tranquility, the forgotten key to her innermost self, and the floodgate holding the magic of the Spirit Realm at bay opened.

  Power filled her as she stretched her wings toward the sky.

  The forest spat out three new demons. They circled her with caution as more of their brethren returned now that the Lady of Battles was gone. Her lips pulled back in a snarl while she waited.

  Come closer, she thought, and meet the Lady’s daughter.

  Her wings quivered with the strain of holding back. Blood pounded through her veins. She closed her eyes and waited.

  Demon. Dire wolf. Fae-blood slaves. They all returned, drawing nearer.

  Just a little more. Almost close enough.

  Her ears swung forward. There. The last of them stepped within range.

  She snapped her wings down and released the power, directing it as it surged from her body. Like the shockwave from a bomb, the power flew out in an ever-enlarging circle. Wind blasted between the tree branches and howled like a winter’s gale. A wild ecstasy filled her.

  She fed more and more power into the destroying wave.

  It should’ve been enough to level the forest for a kilometer in all directions, killing every last Riven—but a few of them were escaping her.