Sorceress Hunting (A Gargoyle and Sorceress Tale Book 3)
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Sorceress Hunting
A Gargoyle and Sorceress Tale:
Book 3
LISA BLACKWOOD
Back Cover
Some victories feel more like defeat.
Although the Siren’s downfall was necessary, it also brought about a growing divide between Lillian and Gregory. However, personal matters will have to wait, for there is a more immediate concern which must be dealt with first.
Human authorities are now aware something equally as intelligent but far more deadly shares their world, and Lillian’s hometown has been placed under quarantine. To her dismay, it is not just a ‘guns in the woods, boots on the ground’ kind of hunt. Scientists are spearheading this pursuit. Lillian soon learns she and Gregory are their intended targets.
And this just might be one hunt her gargoyle protector is ill prepared for.
Sorceress Hunting
Copyright © 2016 by Lisa Smeaton
2nd Edition. All rights reserved.
Previously published as Stone’s Divide © 2015
****
This is a work of fiction. Names, places, and characters are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead is entirely coincidental.
No part of this book may be reproduced, scanned or distributed in any print or electronic form without the author’s permission. Please purchase only authorized editions and do not participate in or encourage piracy of copyrighted materials. Your support of the author’s rights is appreciated.
COVER ART BY: Heather Senter
http://www.bookcoverartistry.com/
EDITED BY: Laura Kingsley
https://laurakingsley.wordpress.com/
Other books
by
Lisa Blackwood
Gargoyle and Sorceress
Sorceress Found
Sorceress Awakening
Sorceress Rising
Sorceress Hunting
Sorceress Triumphant (Fall 2016)
In Deception’s Shadow
Betrayal’s Price
Herd Mistress
Maiden’s Wolf
Death’s Queen (Forthcoming Fall 2016)
City of Burning Water (Forthcoming Fall 2017)
Ishtar’s Legacy
Ishtar’s Blade
Blade’s Honor
Warships of the Spire
Vengeance (Forthcoming 2017)
Table of Contents
Prologue
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-One
Chapter Twenty-Two
Chapter Twenty-Three
Chapter Twenty-Four
Chapter Twenty-Five
Chapter Twenty-Six
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Chapter Thirty
Chapter Thirty-One
Chapter Thirty-Two
Chapter Thirty-Three
Chapter Thirty-Four
Chapter Thirty-Five
Chapter Thirty-Six
Chapter Thirty-Seven
Chapter Thirty-Eight
Chapter Thirty-Nine
Chapter Forty
Chapter Forty-One
Chapter Forty-Two
Chapter Forty-Three
Afterword
Prologue
Long after the Avatars had left the glade, a lanky figure shrouded from head to toe in black and crimson armor dropped from his perch two-thirds of the way up the hamadryad. He landed lightly, only the slightest rattle from his armor and weapons betrayed his presence.
He straightened and looked around the clearing, which was protected on all sides by a manicured, evergreen maze. After another quick glance around, he turned his attention to the ground beneath his boots. Giving it a prod, he dug a furrow in the soft earth.
The Mortal Realm—the one place he’d never thought he’d step. Yet, here he was, for good or ill. Distaste twisted his lips, exposing his fangs. Already, he could feel this realm plucking at his magic, wanting to drag it from him and render him as helpless as the other Fae he sensed guarding the maze.
That wasn’t something he would allow. Weakness of any kind was abhorrent, and he had eliminated any personal softness at an earlier age.
One didn’t survive to rule over the Battle Goddess’ armies by being weak.
Commander Gryton took another look around before moving out of the hamadryad’s shadow. He was still mildly shocked the Gargoyle Protector had not sensed his arrival.
But then again, the male half of the Avatar pairing was still exhausted in mind, body, and spirit from recent events. Events which the Sorceress’ hamadryad had willingly shown Gryton as she transported him here.
Another perplexing mystery in need of resolution. He didn’t know why the hamadryad had shared knowledge with him, or so willingly brought him to this realm. However, that particular mystery would keep. He’d come to this cursed land for another reason—his collars. He’d known the moment the warded collars had left the Battle Goddess’ domain, had in fact been working on the other set when the theft had occurred. He’d acted immediately but still hadn’t been fast enough to stop them from vanishing into the abyss of the Mortal Realm. It hadn’t taken long to discover who had dared the wrath of his queen.
That Stalks the Darkness would take his newborn child and run wasn’t a great surprise, but Gryton had soon discovered the gargoyle hadn’t been alone.
The truth was a greater shock. The gargoyle’s dryad keeper, the Battle Goddess’ own confidant, had fled willingly. Worse, they’d taken two of his collars with them.
With that act, his path had been set—follow Darkness and River to the Mortal Realm and bring them back to the Battle Goddess or, at the very least, retrieve the collars.
To go to the Lady of Battles with only an explanation would have ended badly for all concerned.
So here he found himself in the Mortal Realm with a most unusual set of circumstances arrayed before him. He’d assumed Darkness and River were simply defecting and had taken the collars as a goodwill gesture to show the Gargoyle Protector.
Had that happened, it would have been disastrous for the Lady’s plans. Given a little time with the collars, the Protector would have studied them and taken steps to neutralize the spells and then adapt his personal protections to become impervious to such an attack in the future.
But that wasn’t what had happened at all. No, a siren from an ancient time had unbalanced the male half of the Avatars, and her act of interference had opened other unforeseen possibilities.
The hamadryad had shown that in a moment of panic over the lives of humans, her young and very foolish dryad mistress had collared herself and her other half.
Well, in truth, the tree’s version of events showed the protector collaring himself, but that must be incorrect, surely?
Fate was not normally so kind to him, Gryton reflected, but whether it came about due to an idiotic young dryad or a befuddled Gargoyle Protector, he would happily benefit fr
om their mistakes.
Now all he need do was capture one of them and return to the Magic Realm. The other half would follow.
With the Avatars’ return, the Battle Goddess would be content, and Gryton could keep his head and his immortality intact.
He merely had to avoid detection until he could set traps. Though it might not be the easiest task to complete with the number of Fae he sensed lurking around this maze and surrounding land. There was also the matter of the three gargoyles who would require a healthy dose of caution.
But the greatest danger should have been the Avatars themselves.
When he’d arrived in this realm, the Avatars were still in the glade, learning from the hamadryad that the ancient siren had sacrificed herself and in so doing defeated the Riven army.
The Protector’s attention was diverted, but not so much he should have completely missed Gryton’s arrival.
Luck?
Or the hamadryad’s meddling?
Neither idea was appealing as both scenarios placed events out of his control.
Though he might also credit it to the Protector having his natural senses dulled by years trapped in this realm, and the new collar around his throat.
That was a much happier explanation than the Sorceress’ hamadryad manipulating events to her liking.
Whatever the cause, it led to a rare set of occurrences he couldn’t pass up, not if he wanted to remain free of Death’s clutches. That one knew what Gryton was. Another thought slipped through his mind. None in this realm knew what he truly was. Here, he would be safe after a fashion—at least as safe as any being could be from the Lord of the Underworld.
Even the Avatars didn’t remember what he was.
Perhaps he might have a use for the Mortal Realm after all?
When fate handed out her gifts, it was always best to accept them graciously.
With a final glance at the hamadryad, he eased out from between her branches and traversed the open center of the glade, past a ring of broken ward stones and into the maze’s shadowy corridors.
All the time, he felt the hamadryad and the enchanted cedars of the maze watching him with an awareness not based in the physical world. He didn’t care what she had planned, he would not be manipulated by a tree, no matter if she was the Mother’s Sorceress.
He had his own agenda.
One which might take days or moons to complete, but he was nothing if not patient. Besides, the Avatars had already shown themselves to be less than they were.
A flicker of a hunter’s bloodlust stirred in his core, his magic awakening at the thought of a challenge.
He soothed his emotions and his magic soon returned to its slumber. With a final glance back at the watchful tree, Commander Gryton made his way out of the maze and into the gardens beyond, heading for the dark canopy of the forest in the distance.
There he would hide until he’d learned more about this realm, and just how compromised the Avatars had become.
Chapter One
Lillian sat curled on the couch and stared at the television, a cup of tea growing cold in her hands. Every few seconds, her attention switched between the media’s special presentation covering the events of the night before and the messenger spells her grandmother was weaving where she sat on the opposite end of the couch.
The powerful spell Gregory had summoned to heal the Fae injured during the Rivens’ attack had also knocked out the power grid, cell phone service, radio, internet, and most other modern conveniences.
Only after the battle’s subsequent cleanup had they learned those services were down. The power grid came back online first, followed by radio and television. Unfortunately, cell service was still down.
Hence why Gran was using messenger spells to relay orders and news among the Clan and Coven. Gran whispered the ending incantations of the spell. The letter she held flared with light as magic transformed it into the shape of a hummingbird. It hovered above Gran’s open palm for a moment more before zipping out the open patio doors.
Lillian stared at where it had been, still mesmerized by the whimsical, though presently useful, bit of magic. It was the fifth one Gran had made, and Lillian still marveled at it.
In her defense, she was operating on only three hours of sleep. Which was nowhere near enough time to recover or process all that had happened. Her other half was doing a better job of focusing. Currently, he’d stopped pacing to study the television.
She wasn’t sure how much he understood—he was very intelligent and knowledgeable about all things magical and the universe, in general, but she didn’t know if he grasped the finer points of modern human culture.
Up until this point, her gargoyle protector had done his level best to avoid and ignore the humans, but by the way he focused on the news, with his ears flat against his mane and his tail flicking in agitation, she imagined he was starting to rethink his opinion of humans and how he viewed them.
‘Yes, my love,’ she thought to herself, ‘the humans are a force to be reckoned with. You can’t just continue to pretend they are unimportant and of no consequence.’
It was close to noon, and the last of the Fae search parties were straggling back to the cottage a few at a time.
They were using cloaking magic to hide. The whole area was under a military lockdown, and any suspicious movement would bring a storm of local authorities down upon all their heads.
The word among the humans was that a suspected terrorist attack was still being investigated, but nothing had been confirmed. The news switched between images of scared people being herded back to their houses, grim-faced police, grimmer-faced military, and clips of an earlier riot caused by some hotheads.
Though unknown to the humans, the minor act of civil unrest had been squelched by several Coven members weaving spells to pacify the worst of the fear.
Gran had said there had been enough bloodshed in the last twenty-four hours to suffice. They didn’t need more. Besides, the spells were easy enough to cast with the plentiful magic Gregory had summoned. More magic was saturating the Mortal Realm than it had seen in hundreds, if not thousands, of years. Of course, the magic would soon diffuse across the globe, so the local concentrations would diminish. For now, the Coven and Fae seemed to be enjoying the bounty, even if the situation requiring it was less than ideal.
It should have been enough her loved ones had all survived, and the Riven had been exterminated, but Lillian couldn’t relax.
Of course, disaster might come from a completely different quarter.
Her hands strayed to her flat belly. She prayed it would stay that way. Her mind was in the process of conjuring up all the possible disastrous complications a pregnancy might invoke when the news anchorwoman informed the viewers a press conference had just been announced and would start in a few minutes.
Lillian’s cynical side wondered if whatever the press conference revealed would make the possibility of a baby seem less dire in comparison.
From the corner of her eye, she caught Gregory shifting a wing out of his way to squint over his shoulder at her.
Oh, shit. Mr. Hyperaware was picking up on her worry. Maybe he’d think it was the news and the humans.
She gestured first at Gregory and then at the couch beside her, hoping he’d think she just wanted comfort, and not guess she was actually trying to hide something from him.
As he was prone to do, he didn’t respond the way she thought he would. Instead of sitting on the couch next to her—which wasn’t really big enough for an eight-foot-tall gargoyle, she admitted—he settled on his haunches and leaned against her legs.
“What do you think about how the humans are responding to this new crisis?” Gregory’s deep voice soothed her nerves even if he asked a question she didn’t know how to answer.
“Honestly, I thought they’d have stormed our walls already.” Lillian shrugged and then narrowed her eyes. “We know from what we’ve overheard that the human authorities—at least the military—suspects our
family of some involvement in the strange occurrences. And that we just happened to plan a masquerade on the night the Riven attacked? They’ll find it too much of a coincidence not to investigate.”
“I would hunt out the truth, were I them,” Gregory acknowledged.
“Exactly.” Lillian sipped at her cold tea as she glanced back at the television. An official was introducing someone in uniform. “But then, what if they found something more interesting to study than us?”
Gran and Gregory turned their gazes fully upon her.
“Surely you’ve both had the same thought by now?”
They glanced at each other in silence.
“Oh, come on. I can’t be the only one to worry the humans might have caught one of the Riven. Gran, you said before they had found Riven bodies. What if they found live ones?”
Gregory rumbled an unhappy sound. “We will infiltrate their ranks and learn if they have managed to capture one of the beasts. It’s possible one may have evaded our search spells. If that is the case, we must dispose of it before it has a chance to infect others.”
Gran raised her hand and pointed at the television while at the same time turning up the volume. “We may have other concerns.”
Lillian followed Gran’s direction. Undaunted by the flash of cameras and the shouts of reporters, a group of military brass had gathering in front of the town hall, using the first landing of its stairs as an impromptu stage.
The speaker on screen, a man of some distinction in what Lillian would guess to be his late forties, was saying no one had claimed responsibility for the attack. The as yet unknown gaseous substance, which had rendered its victims unconscious or caused them to have mild hallucinations, seemed to have no other long-term side effects. However, the local residents would all be screened to rule out further danger.