The Avatars Series: Books 1-3

by Blackwood, Lisa

  “Sorceress.” The man in the black 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 decided to return home.”

  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. 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, Gregory. 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.”

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

  “He was too young when I called him the first time, but after he was injured and rested in stone, I continued to work on his conditioning.”

  “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 called him early and fled with him to this Realm?”

  Gryton sighed. “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 no one but me. I don’t share.”

  “That is the talk of a traitor.”

  “No, this agreement is between the Lady and I. If she 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 gestured to the two closest guards. They sprinted off the way they’d come. He looked back at Lillian with a scowl on his face. “You’re not doing a good job of convincing me why I should leave you and your gargoyle in the Mortal Realm.”

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

  He grunted. “No, but I prefer my assets where I can protect them. Until you and the gargoyle merge powers, 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. Your other request?”

  “I’d like my mother and father to come here. It wouldn’t hurt to have another gargoyle around to deal with the vampires 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 victim” part.

  “Fine, I don’t need to know more about dryad 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.”

  “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, and 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 Gryton.”

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

  “I’m not sure if Gryton bought my little deception. He may send my mother sooner than expected,” Lillian said, then nibbled at her lower lip in a way Gregory found interesting.

  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 in there. That life is all she knows. From what I remember, she isn’t evil, but she does serve the Lady of Battles.”

  “Then she is evil.” 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 of her army 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 tinted 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 honour their ancient duty and guard the Veil between the Realms, preventing more demons from escaping into the other realms. 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, without an exact arrival time, he might have less than two weeks to prepare before Lillian’s mother came, trailed by her pet gargoyle. “Do you think your mother can be reasoned with?”

  “My mother loved both me and my father in her own strange way. And my father was more prisoner than willing subject to the Lady of Battles. 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.

  With Lillian sitting on her bed, watching him through her lashes, he didn’t doubt he could be swayed from the Light if he didn’t guard against it. It would be all too easy. He thought he knew how the other gargoyle’s protective nature might have been used against him. A dryad surrounded by enemies would be something vulnerable in need of protection. Lillian’s father had probably thought her mother was a fellow prisoner.

  Gregory would do anything to protect Lillian. He wasn’t certain he’d have fared any better than that other gargoyle.

  A warm hand cupped his cheek. Lillian tilted his head until she was looking into his eyes. “I’ll not let what happened to my father happen to you. Our love isn’t a weapon for the Lady of Battles to use against you. I will not allow it.” She came to her knees and placed her hands on his shoulders. “That’s why you need to put your spell back on my mind. By blocking my memories, you inadvertently halted the Lady’s handiwork.”

  “I don’t understand.” There was so much he didn’t know, and he didn’t like feeling helpless.

  “Everything you’ve speculated about is true. The darkness growing in me is a demon soul. I can feel its foreign magic where the Lady of Battles grafted it onto my spirit. You were right when you thought of it as my bestial side. She created me to grow and transform into something greater than a dryad. Whatever I become, I fear I’ll be far more dangerous to you. Like a seed, this poor tortured soul needs me to call on my magic to grow. She feeds on my emotions, my deep love for you. And on my ancient knowledge, growing stronger until one day she will consume me—or twist me into something so different, I’ll wish I didn’t remember anything.” Lillian paused, her expression no longer serene. Tears glistened at the corner of her eyes. “Your wards upon my memories blocked the demon’s memories, too. And the lack of magic in this realm inhibited its growth. Until the last few days, the demon soul slept, but now she remembers her purpose. I’m running out of time. I don’t know what to do to save us, but I can’t let her harm you.”

  Gregory couldn’t watch her struggle, and he gathered her to his chest. He tucked her head against his shoulder and rocked her gently. “I’ll find this dark seed and dig it out.”

  The tension leaked out of her smaller frame and she relaxed against him. “You can’t. The Lady of Battles expects something like that. If you try, the demon soul will trigger a spell woven of the blackest magic, killing us both, as well as anyone with the misfortune to be too close. But it will not stop there. It will deliver both our souls to the Lady, and she will begin again. You must find another way to disable the demon soul. Wrap it in so many layers of magic it can never escape while I live. If that fails, you must take me to the Lord of the Underworld. He will prevent my spirit from being recaptured by his sister. I think my soul would die if I harmed or enslaved you. Promise me you’ll surrender me to Death’s mercy if you can’t help me. I don’t want to become the Lady of Battles’ creature, not if it means betraying the love between us.”

  No. His soul rebelled at the thought of handing her over to the Lord of the Underworld. He’d be sealing her death. It would be like killing her himself.

  “I’ll need your help. The Lady of Battles will have built traps to prevent me from seeking her brother.”

  “I can’t,” he growled as he crushed her against him. “Ask me anything else, but please don’t ask me to help you die. I won’t do it.”

  She continued to run her hands along his back, soothing, pleading for him to listen. “For now, you must put the block back on my memories and my magic. That will give you a little more time to try to find a way to stop the darkness growing in me. But if there is no cure, you must take me to the Lord of the Underworld before the demon enslaves us both.” She leaned into him and rested her head against his chest, over his heart.

  His hand shook as he reached out to stroke her hair. He wanted to cry or rage—anything to ease the horror thickening in his veins. “Please, I can’t do what you ask.”

  “Shh.” She placed a finger across his lips. “It will be alright. The Lord of the Underworld will free my soul to return to the Spirit Realm, and then I’ll be reborn again. We’ll not be parted long.”

  “No.” Changing his grip on her, he sought her lips to stop her flow of words. He projected his ancient love for her and his more recent desire until she returned his kiss with heat. Small, almost purring sounds escaped her. Molten fire shot through his veins at the sign of her pleasure. He flipped her onto her back, pressing her into the bed. She melted under him, warm, willing. He shivered at the soft caress of her fingers along his skin, intensely aware of her body pressing against his, how she spread her legs so he fit perfectly between her thighs. Gods, he wanted this, needed the other half of his soul.

  “Hmm.” She turned her head, breaking the kiss.

  He growled in frustration.

  “Gregory, no.” Lillian’s breath came in uneven gasps. “The Lady wants us to get lost in our passions, but we must never forget our duty.”

  It took him longer to gather his own scattered thoughts. “You talk of duty and yet ask me to help you die.” He buried his face in her hair, refusing to look at her. “My duty is to protect you. If I break that oath, then I no longer serve any duty. Nothing is more forbidden than what you ask.”

  “All you need to do is help me find the Lord of the Underworld.”

  “No.” He pushed himself up and leapt off the bed, catching the corner of the nightstand in his hurry to escape her words. It teetered for a moment, then clattered to the ground, drawers spilling across the floor. Uncaring, he continued backing up until his back hit the wall behind. “Don’t ask me again. I’ll have no part in your death. I’ll block your memories and do what I can to block your use of magic. I’ll find a cure, no matter what. I’m not going to let you die because of the Lady of Battles’ manipulations. Death will claim us one day, but not like this.”

  “Easy. It’s alright. I’ll not ask that of you again.” The Sorceress patted the bed. “Come back to me. I want to hold you for a little while before you make me forget.”

  A small, satisfied smile curved her lips as he inched back toward the bed. Was it his imagination or did she enjoy watching him struggle with his reactions to her? Her expression softened and she motioned him to come closer.

  Uncertain of the wisdom in getting within touching distance, but wanting to be near her too much to care about the outcome, he glided the last of the way to her side and eased back onto the bed. A moment later she curled into him, and her arms came around him. It was a fragile peace. One he was terrified wouldn’t last.

  “I love you,” she murmured against his shoulder. “Let me have this one perfect moment. After I fall asleep, block my memories.”

  He held her until her breath evened in sleep, then he summoned his magic, placing the wards upon her mind one layer at a time. When he was finished, he reverted to his gargoyle form and buried his muzzle in her hair.

  “I love you too, my Sorceress.” Surely his heart was shattering, it ached so much. The overwhelming need to show her how much he loved her threatened to strip him of his reason, and yet he was afraid.

  His simple words of love didn’t begin to encompass what she meant to him. He coul
dn’t fool himself anymore. He no longer served the Divine Ones first and then the Sorceress—he served her above all else.

  As a restless sleep came to claim him, the last thing he dwelled on was what to do if he couldn’t find a cure for her. Her death was not an option, not for him. A small selfish part of his soul planted the seeds of a solution.

  Perhaps he could bargain with the Lady of Battles—become one of her army in exchange for Lillian’s freedom. If what Lillian said about the Lady’s army guarding the Veil between the realms was correct, he might be able to become one of them without completely betraying himself, or what it meant to be the Sorceress’s Protector.

  He closed his eyes and rested his head on her breast, listening to the throb of her heart until sleep claimed him at last.

  Chapter Nineteen

  Lillian awoke to find Gregory hogging all of the bed. The damp heat of his breath washed over her shoulder where he’d buried his muzzle in her hair. If she could feel that, she supposed she wasn’t a ghost, so she’d survived whatever he’d done. She felt no different than before. There was no river of memories flowing from the depths of her mind like she’d half expected. All those lives he’d alluded to; why couldn’t she remember her past?

  But with him spooning her, his wings warming her better than an electric blanket, she could forget her worries for now. She listened to the throb of his heart as she lay tucked safely in her nest. With her head resting on his bicep, she had a clear view straight down the length of his arm. Every few seconds, his fist would clench and his talons flex. She raised her head.

  He growled and twitched in his sleep, in the grip of a nightmare. When she turned toward him and rested a hand on his chest, it calmed him, his twitching and struggles lessening.

  “Easy, Gregory,” she soothed. “I’m here. There’s no danger.” Curious, she lowered her shields and reached for him with her mind, and like the few times she’d done it by accident, his mind opened—his thoughts and emotions sweeping into her. After a moment, she sorted through the chaos until she found the source of his nightmare.