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

by Lisa Blackwood

  Following the taint to its source, he found himself in an open area. Oval in shape, a transparent barrier about twice his height encircled the entire area. Situated just outside that odd barrier, rows of seats marched up the sides of the building, halfway to its ceiling.

  He didn’t know what the building had been before the human military had repurposed it—an amphitheater perhaps? Not that it mattered.

  Before him, in one of the transparent square cages was what he’d come for. The last Riven still in existence.

  He approached the three cages in the center of the floor and bypassed the first two with their sleeping occupants.

  The Riven hissed at Gryton. He ignored the creature’s act of bravado and came closer. When he was a body length away, the beast launched itself at the back wall, clawing madly at the surface as panic set in, but the substance was too hard and thick, and the creature merely damaged itself in its escape attempt.

  Gryton tapped a finger against the transparent surface, the metal talons of his gauntlets sounding loud in the silence. When that failed to penetrate the Riven’s panic maddened mind, he cleared his throat.

  “Turn and face judgment, unworthy one.”

  The Riven froze but didn’t turn around.

  Well, at least he had its attention. Gryton’s lips pulled back in a smile, though the beast couldn’t see the expression.

  “Were it not for your kind’s interference, the Battle Goddess’s plans may well have borne fruit. But your greed—the attempt to sacrifice the female half of the Avatars for your own gain—led to her being placed in her accursed hamadryad to heal.”

  The Riven hissed.

  Gryton narrowed his eyes. He should just kill the creature now, but the days of torture he’d endured when the Battle Goddess first learned the Avatars had escaped her again required payment in kind.

  He drew a knife from his belt and drove it into the surface with all his strength. The blade embedded itself in the clear substance hilt deep. Small cracks and fissures spread out from the center, enlarging as he fed the smallest trickle of his magic into it.

  “I devised a new way to enslave the Avatars. Before I finished, they came under attack again. This time, the Sorceress’s biological parents came to her aid and brought with them my collars and used them in an unforeseen way. Again, all because of a threat created by the Rivens’ mindless greed.” Gryton raised his gloved hand and pressed it to the cage’s surface, feeding more power into the damaged area. “And so, for a second time, the actions of the Riven allowed the Avatars to triumph over their adversaries. At least this time, I may be able to salvage this somewhat. However, you, the last of your kind, will not be around to witness it.”

  He slammed his hand into the glass-like cage and worked more of his magic into the strange substance. His power ate away at the hard, clear surface, and when the hole was large enough for him to step through, he did and grasped the Riven in tendrils of burning light.

  Flames leaped up from the Riven’s body, quickly eating inward. Within moments, the Riven was no more.

  Gryton stepped from the cage and brushed ash and energy residue from his armor. The kill held no satisfaction, but at least those unnatural monsters the blood witch had created were now gone from the universe.

  Why she hadn’t exterminated them herself, he never knew. Likely because she couldn’t admit to having created such a failure in the first place.

  Pride. Something he endeavored never to allow to take hold. Pride, too, was a weakness if it blinded a being so much, they could no longer see the truth before their eyes.

  Pride and arrogance and love. They were all mind-corrupting weaknesses.

  He walked past the other two cages with barely a glance. The deaths of a sidhe and a little sprite were generally of no importance. He slowed and glanced at them a second time. Still, he’d also seen too many plans disintegrate recently. Perhaps these two fae might prove useful one day. With an offhanded wave of one hand, he sent his magic to mark the two fae with his power. Both species were long-lived, intelligent, resourceful, and would make capable servants.

  It only took a moment for his power to burrow deep and vanish from his sight. The spell would remain dormant until he called it forth. That done, Gryton started back the way he’d come only to halt again before a wide gate-like door. Sending out small scouting spells, he sighed at what he learned.

  Beyond the gate, three lines of humans waited, their weapons ready and aimed at him. There were no shouted orders like they’d given the Avatars. He sidestepped behind the solid support wall to one side of the gate as they loosed their weapons upon him. Loud riotous noise heralded a storm of tiny projectiles. They tore through the gate and impacted the wall he was sheltering behind.

  It was doubtful if such tiny weapons could penetrate his magic-warded armor. Yet, a cautious nature had always served him well.

  The onslaught only lasted moments and then it was over. He doubted if they had exhausted their weapons. More likely they were waiting to outflank him. Fighting his way free would draw too much attention. Especially since he wanted to maintain a low profile until he had one of the Avatars in his possession.

  There were too many humans to use his mind control on effectively, so he summoned a transportation spell—one he’d already prepared earlier and stored for later use. Now seemed a good time.

  He heard the soft scuff of their boots as they prepared to flank him. When the first of their number surged forward into his line of sight, he initiated a secondary spell. His fiery magic raced forward in greeting. Their screams reached out to assault his ears just as he triggered the transportation spell. It grabbed on to his essence and then with a jarring sensation and a moment of vertigo, he was once again in the forest. The echoes of dying humans faded from his hearing. The small circle of river rocks he’d attached this end of the spell to smoked slightly as they gave off their excess heat.

  He would plan better in the future. Something as inconsequential as a pack of humans should not have forced him into using one of his escape spells.

  Chapter 11

  SHADOWLIGHT RAN OVER the ground; jumping, weaving and darting through the forest with all possible speed. He followed a shallow stream for another quarter hour until he came to two familiar trees fallen crosswise against each other. The way they’d landed had created a slightly sheltered area in the ‘vee’ where the two trunks overlapped.

  He’d dragged over some vines from where they’d been growing along one trunk to create a ceiling of sorts. His little shelter blended into the surrounding forest well enough. It had the added benefit of being close to a water source. The small stream held a few fish within its depths.

  Secretly, he was rather proud of the shelter he’d found.

  He stalked up to the shelter, ears scanning for sounds of movement within. He ducked and squeezed under the vines. Inside semi-darkness ruled, but his eyes adjusted quickly, and he could make out the form of the human warrior. She lay curled on her side, knees drawn up to her chest.

  He couldn’t see her face, but her sides still shifted slightly with each breath. Now that he was inside the shelter, he could hear the feeble beat of her heart. She had survived the night up until this point, but she was very weak. If he didn’t do something soon, he doubted she would live to see another day. A shiver shook her frame, but she didn’t wake.

  Scouring his mother’s memories, he learned cold and shock could kill as quickly as the wounds themselves. He also learned multiple blood exchanges might be required some hours apart. That seemed odd to his gargoyle instincts he’d inherited from his father. However, his mother was a healer so she might know more even though she wasn’t a gargoyle.

  He sat on his haunches and studied the human a long moment and then, his decision made, he used one fang to slash open the skin on his left forearm, following the pale scar from that earlier injury. The second time hurt just as much as the first.

  He rolled the human to her back and then used one hand to pry open
her jaws while he held his injured wrist over her mouth. The human choked and sputtered weakly on his blood. He hastily shifted her onto her side until her airway was clear again.

  Frowning, he debated his options and settled for just dripping his blood over her still healing wounds. At least it would help heal those. A quick inventory showed all but the greatest injuries, three on her torso and two on her lower extremities, had already repaired themselves.

  He was just finishing up with the last wound when another shiver wracked the human’s frame. She twitched and mumbled something in her sleep.

  While the muttering might mean she was regaining consciousness, the shivering couldn’t be good. If she grew more chilled, it might not matter how much blood he gave her. She would still die. He needed a fire. Yes, it might draw attention, but he didn’t have a choice.

  ANNA AWOKE WITH A GROAN. Moving caused every muscle in her body to twinge with remembered pain. Not good, so not good. She must have been hurt. It wasn’t the first time, but whatever happened this time must have been bad enough to require morphine. Only morphine caused the weird-ass kinds of dreams she’d been having.

  “You’re strong for a little human soldier. I wasn’t sure if you would survive.”

  Little human soldier?

  “Oh, you’ve got to be fucking kidding me.”

  One of her morphine-inspired dream denizens sat across from her, feeding a stick into a small campfire. It was the gargoyle child, complete with wings, horns, and a tail. Yep. A tail. He was using the deadly looking tip of said tail to push a large flat stone closer to the fire pit. A camp kettle of some unknown design sat on top of the stone.

  It looked old, 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 a greater need for 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 skimmed 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 replace what you lost. Your 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 shit before, but nothing in her military training 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 leaking 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.

  Anna remembered 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 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 that was one tactical advantage the military needed 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 t
hought 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 entirely 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 assaulted him. 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 compliant. “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.”