Even pacing was out of the question in case the room wasn’t as soundproof as Greenborrow claimed. The last thing she needed was for more fae to learn of her existence. With only the two, she still had a hope of escape.
Sighing, she sat down on the bed and rummaged around in the nightstand for the books Shadowlight had stolen for her. He’d had an agenda she’d soon found out. The kid loved to be read to, which shouldn’t have been such a surprise. All kids liked to be read to, didn’t they?
Unfortunately, of the five books he’d brought—one spy novel, one detective, and two rather steamy romances, only the Jane Austen was anywhere near kid-safe reading. So, every night, she’d read Pride and Prejudice to the young gargoyle for a couple of hours before she chased him off to bed.
Rolling onto her stomach, she spread the remaining books out on her pillow to sort through them. She’d already finished the detective novel the first day, so she picked up one of the romances. At least it was a historical. Maybe she’d learn a little history among other things.
With a chuckle, she flipped to chapter one.
HEARING SOFT FOOTSTEPS outside her door, she folded the corner of the page down. It wasn’t like she had a bookmark. Besides, this one was so dog-eared, one more fold wouldn’t be noticeable.
Shadowlight tapped softly. She knew it was the gargoyle because Greenborrow didn’t knock, and if she’d been detected, it wasn’t like anyone else would knock before storming the room. So, she always knew that soft, three-part rap was the young gargoyle.
At least someone had taught the kid manners. It certainly wasn’t the leshii.
“Come,” she called. Though she wasn’t sure if he could hear through the barrier which doubled as both soundproofing for the room and cage for her.
Shadowlight stuck his head in at her soft call. Guess that answered her question.
He spotted her and then came in carrying supper. The scent proceeded him.
“Oh, my god,” she muttered as she jumped off the bed and snatched the tray from his hand. It was warm. In the past, he’d only been able to snatch cold leftovers. Apparently, gargoyles didn’t do microwaves. “This smells delicious.”
She set the tray down, looked around, grabbed the only chair, and dragged it closer to the bed. Shadowlight placed his own dinner down next to hers and then jumped up on the bed as he always did. There was no way he could fit in the chair anyway, so she felt zero guilt about having the only seat with a backrest.
She took the lid off the covered tray—who actually had covered trays in their kitchen?
“The trays are from the spa,” Shadowlight admitted. “Gran intended me to take the extra food to Lillian and Gregory, but they went off hunting in the forest.”
“Mmm...no use wasting food. Keep up the good work.” She grinned around a forkful of the divine-tasting stir-fry and watched as Shadowlight tried to navigate the rice to his mouth without wearing it. She was just opening her mouth to tell him to forget manners and just dig in when the door shoved open with a crash.
Anna shot out of her chair. She snatched up the knife she kept in the nightstand. Shadowlight was faster and lunged off the bed, his talons extended, and his lips curled back in a snarl.
The young gargoyle didn’t reach his target. A fiery wall of power leaped up between him and the newcomer.
Before that power had utterly obscured the newcomer, her heightened senses tagged what had invaded her room as deadly. Her talons lengthened, every instinct screaming this was a lethal opponent that needed killing swiftly.
How exactly she knew that she had no clue. She’d only had a glimpse of crimson and black armor and sharp edges.
She circled to the side, her small, stolen knife in one hand, the chair gripped in the other, ready to whip it at the newcomer if she saw an opening.
Shadowlight’s magic slammed into the fiery barrier. Steam hissed and curled up from the point of impact. She didn’t know much about magic, but she did know Shadowlight’s power was cold, a chilled mist across her senses. This newcomer’s magic must be as hot as it looked.
She wasn’t about to let the bastard land a blow just to confirm her theory, though.
Speaking of landing a blow—that looked to be next to impossible. He was covered head-to-toe-in some kind of fantasyland scale armor like he was ready for a movie set. It didn’t stop Shadowlight from trying his damnedest to eradicate the newcomer though. Anna inched closer, waiting for an opening.
Tin Man reached out and grabbed Shadowlight’s right wing, jerking it hard enough to send the young gargoyle stumbling into the wall. Seeing her chance, she swung the wooden chair with all the force in her arm. It flew true to its target, splintering on contact.
The newcomer didn’t go down as she’d hoped, but her move gave Shadowlight a chance to free himself.
The gargoyle dropped to all fours, attacking from a new angle. Anna knew they were in trouble when Tin Man deflected blow after blow without even looking at the gargoyle.
Tin Man’s attention was riveted on her instead. She didn’t know what he found so fascinating.
“Scrutinize this.” She lobbed the small knife straight at his visor’s eye slits.
His arm snaked out and he caught her knife by the hilt before it could embed itself in his eye.
Shit. The fucker had reflexes.
“Well,” Tin Man said. “I see the boy is already showing his potential. I had not expected him to start building our new gargoyle army until he was mature. The little prodigal has been busy.”
Tin Man heaved Shadowlight off him and then slapped out with some kind of physical wall of magic that sent the gargoyle flying backward.
Shadowlight’s lower legs hit the end of the bed, and he slid, half rolling all the way to the headboard. He slammed into it with enough force to put a hole in the wall.
“Mortal,” Tin Man drawled, “I need a moment for a few words with you.”
A force hit her square in the chest, and she was flying backward until she slammed into Shadowlight’s still form. She wasn’t sure if he was still conscious.
Instinct told her he was still alive. Thank God.
Shadowlight moaned a moment later, assuring her he was, indeed, still alive, and mostly conscious. He rolled to his side, planning she knew not what, but his motion was aborted when he met some kind of barrier suspended just inches above them. The heat rolling off it warned her not to make contact. Then she realized it was descending toward her, and she might not have a choice.
“Now, little human—there is no need to fear. I’m not going to cook you for my next meal. However, I do need to examine you, so you’ll be coming with us.”
He didn’t want to kill Shadowlight, or at least not immediately. What he did want was a mystery.
Tin Man glided to the bed and muttered a few words over the struggling gargoyle. Shadowlight went limp between one second and the next and the fiery barrier vanished.
From somewhere on his person, or maybe he pulled it out of the air, a length of delicate silver chain appeared in Tin Man’s hand, followed by a far-from-delicate collar.
With another mumbled word, the collar flared with magic and Tin Man reached down and slipped it around Shadowlight’s neck. The chain fused itself to the collar in some fashion she couldn’t see.
Screw that. Shadowlight wasn’t a dog.
In a move more bravado than brains, she twisted on the bed and kicked out with her right leg. The toe of her sturdy boot caught him in the side of the head. His helmet took much of the impact, but he still rocked sideways and dropped the chain he’d been holding. While he was off balance, she lunged at him, tackling him in his armored chest.
The impact felt like she’d been in a collision with a tank.
Tin Man only staggered under the impact a half step. Nonetheless, she accomplished what she’d set out to do. The hilt of one of his large daggers now rested in her hand.
It would have been nice to have been able to snatch the other one. Alas, she was lucky to ha
ve gotten this one.
“Hey, Tin Man, your blade has a really nice balance.”
His eyes narrowed, clearly not loving that anyone would challenge him.
A roar echoed through the room, catching them both off guard. Ah, naptime was over.
Shadowlight, a blur of sharp talons and white fangs, launched from the bed a second time, slamming their enemy clear off his feet. Tin Man and the pursuing gargoyle tumbled out of the room and halfway across the attic. Stacks of boxes and pieces of furniture toppling over made enough noise to alert everyone within the house that something was amiss.
Anna darted after them, looking for a place to strike. Shadowlight had Tin Man in a choke hold, dragging him back toward the stairs. At that angle, she doubted Shadowlight could see the glowing ball of fire in Tin Man’s other hand.
“Fireball. Right hand,” she barked out the warning and lunged at the pair, her knife at the ready. She’d see if he could still do the handy fireball thing without that hand.
Just then Tin Man kicked out with both legs, his booted feet catching her squarely in the chest. Again, she found herself flying backward. This time a wall was kind enough to stop her.
She grunted and wheezed and cursed as she crumpled to the ground. The bastard was half horse to judge by that kick. She lay a moment more, her body unresponsive to her brain’s demands to get up. White and grey snow blurred her vision.
Turning her head to search for signs of Shadowlight and their enemy, all she spotted was a broken off two by four and a few pieces of shattered balusters, which had once been part of the stairwell’s guard railing.
Grunting, she heaved herself to her feet and ran after the two combatants.
They were at the bottom of the stairs, the narrow hallway hindering them both, but Tin Man had managed to get the upper hand on the young gargoyle. He had the length of chain in one hand, trying to attach it to his own wrist, where a small circle of metal glowed evilly.
Her stolen knife gripped firmly in her hand, she descended the stairs three at a time. She didn’t know what the leash and collar were capable of, but Shadowlight’s desperation as he fought to free himself told her enough. She landed in a crouch at the bottom of the stairs.
Tin Man cursed and lobbed a fireball at her. She dropped to one knee and lurched sideways, her newly sharpened reflexes saving her from a nasty burn or worse.
Shadowlight roared, the sound echoing down the hall and farther out into the house.
Someone was bound to hear and come to investigate. It just might not be soon enough.
Tin Man had Shadowlight on his back and had looped the chain around the young gargoyle’s throat. With a mighty heave, he dragged the gargoyle backward, while sending fire back in her direction.
She dodged. Mostly. The smell of burnt hair and a new throb covering most of her left shoulder and neck said she hadn’t dodged the last one fast enough.
Behind her, the fire was starting to lick at the carpet and walls. As it spread, its heat radiated against her skin, fed by new fuel. She couldn’t spare the fire any more attention, or she’d be just more fuel.
Shadowlight still fought, his tail whipping around, the lethal blade-tipped end seeking a weakness in Tin Man’s armor.
Which gave her an idea. She darted forward in the same moment Shadowlight twisted and heaved himself back to his feet. He headbutted Tin Man in his armor-plated chest, which didn’t do much damage, but it succeeded in keeping Anna from getting charbroiled.
The kid had heart.
Now if she could just land a blow. While Tin Man and Shadowlight grappled for the chain, she sprang at them. She slammed into Shadowlight’s back, and their combined weight felled Tin Man like he was a tree in a hurricane.
She drew her arm back and then stabbed down toward the slit in his helmet’s visor.
Something slowed her strike, a force she could feel in her arm, wrist, and fingers. Whatever it was stopped the blade from sliding all the way home. The muscles in her arm flexed, trying to force it deeper. She might as well have been trying to penetrate concrete.
Shadowlight’s claws curled around her hand in a crushing grip, and their combined strength forced the blade a few inches lower, its tip sliding past the visor’s opening.
Tin Man screamed. Fire raced up the blade’s length to engulf both her and Shadowlight’s arms before her brain ordered her to jerk back. The same invisible force which had messed up her strike now lashed out at them with punishing force. A second wave tossed them both clear of Tin Man who continued to howl in pain.
His howling turned to something more akin to cursing, but it was in a language she didn’t know. He slapped a hand over his visor in an instinctive action—it wasn’t like it would do anything for the pain and blood—and struggled to his feet.
But she spotted another opportunity to inflict some damage.
She rolled to her knees then picked up the knife with her left hand. She tried not to look at her right hand, but still glimpsed a charred, blackened mess. After the initial flash of pain, there was only a kind of numb deadness about it.
That probably wasn’t a good thing.
Her vision was starting to blur strangely. No wait, that wasn’t her vision. Tin Man was muttering and moving his right hand in an intricate pattern. Something was forming along the north wall.
It shimmered as magic danced and sparkled. Whatever it was took the form of a large window, or maybe a door.
He’d said he was taking Shadowlight home.
Oh. God. They were out of time, and Shadowlight was hurt, unmoving beside her. The need to protect forefront in her mind, she studied her target one last time and prayed her aim was true. Her dad had taught her how to throw a knife, had always drilled her to keep practicing with both hands until she was as accurate with her left as she was with her right. Too bad she’d never gotten that good.
If she lived, she promised to practice until her arms were ready to fall off.
With the last of her strength and a desperate prayer, she sent the knife flying toward its target. A wet, meaty sound registered on her ears. There was another loud hiss, and then with a pained grunt, Tin Man yanked the knife from where it had embedded up under his arm joint where his armor didn’t protect.
A lick of fire curled up from where the knife had embedded itself, but it was gone so quick Anna wondered if her eyes were playing tricks on her.
He made no other sound or showing of pain as he turned his attention from the magic door, which now showed a view of a deeply forested area. She couldn’t see his expression behind the helmet’s visor, but the intensity of his banked rage weighed heavily upon her. Or maybe that was just gravity and physical weakness turning her muscles to water.
Then Tin Man took a step in her direction as flames burst to life along both arms, hovering just above his armor. With a disdainful flick, he tossed the dagger back toward her where it clattered on the floor before bumping to a stop against the toe of her boot.
“You both will learn your place even if I must burn the reminder into your flesh.”
Now that sounded like a world of pain.
A glance down at Shadowlight confirmed he was still out cold. No chance he could escape Tin Man’s wrath.
Anna threw herself down upon the kid and already knew her attempt to shield him would fail. He was just too big.
Another roar shook the house. It sounded a lot like Shadowlight’s, but this one was deeper and definitely meaner. It came again, and she could feel the floor tremor slightly.
Tin Man whipped around and drew a sword from a scabbard at his hip. While he was distracted, Anna palmed his discarded dagger. If he was stupid enough to arm her, she was more than happy to sheath it in some other part of his body.
Something partially obscured by shifting shadows burst from around the corner and up the final few stairs.
Tin Man didn’t wait for the fight to come to him and loosed more of his fireballs on the newcomer. The gargoyle, she could see him now, ran straight
into the wall of fire coming toward him. She sucked in a concerned breath, but the fire didn’t slow the gargoyle as he lunged at Tin Man.
The armor-clad enemy sidestepped the gargoyle at the last moment, but the gargoyle snapped at Tin Man’s thigh as he surged past, tearing away a chunk of armor with a small spray of blood and fire.
In a blur she was barely able to follow, the gargoyle attacked again. Tin Man struck with both magic and steel. The sword sliced through part of the gargoyle’s wing membrane, causing a nasty three-foot tear. By the angle of the strike, Tin Man had been aiming to take the gargoyle’s head.
The two opponents circled, sizing each other up. Tin Man chanced a glance in her direction, and she could practically see the frustration seeping from him. Yeah, he very much wanted to take Shadowlight with him.
“Tough luck, fucker,” she said and gave him the finger.
The two opponents resumed the fight. She would have said the two were evenly matched, but that wasn’t really the case. Tin Man had already defeated her and Shadowlight—though she’d managed to score a couple of hits on him—and from what she saw now, she knew he had been taking it easy on them. He hadn’t wanted to kill either of them.
But he certainly wasn’t terribly concerned about that stipulation now. Tin Man slashed at the gargoyle again and then slammed his armored fist against the gargoyle’s head.
While the gargoyle was stunned, Tin Man kicked out, catching the gargoyle in the side and slamming him into a wall.
Tin Man came within inches of losing his own head as another opponent arrived on the scene. Anna only had a moment to register Greenborrow’s presence before he swung a massive club at Tin Man’s head.
In a move to make any martial artist proud, Tin Man darted to the side, deflected the blow and then stepped in behind the leshii.
Anna fully expected to see the point of a sword burst through the front of the startled leshii’s chest but heard the ring of sword on sword instead.
She glanced past the leshii to where Tin Man was sparring with yet another opponent. When Greenborrow turned to aid the newest arrival, Anna discovered it was a diminutive woman who looked barely strong enough to lift one sword, let alone the two she wielded with grace.
The Complete Gargoyle and Sorceress Boxset (Books 1-9) Page 70
