Again and again, the two courted death to herd Gryton back toward the tree where the hamadryad was reaching for him with outstretched branches.
Seeing an opening, Lillian called shadow magic to her aid. She shaped it into little dagger-like shards as she’d seen her mother do. Once she had several hovering in the air, she raced forward, rejoining the fight. Her tiny biting shadows harassed Gryton. They were not lethal, but she summoned more and more of them until they resembled a swarm of bees attacking the commander.
Closing in on his location, she increased her speed and then rammed him hard enough to send him back the last few feet and within the hamadryad’s reach.
Branches slammed him into the ground where more of the reddish roots sought entrance into Gryton’s armor.
A storm of magic boiled up where molten fire met cold spirit magic.
Thunder rumbled, and the earth shook. Lillian lost her footing and went down. Shadowlight and the human went sprawling on the opposite side of the glade just as more soldiers arrived on the scene.
They froze at the sight of the tree wrapping Commander Gryton in layers of roots and power.
Lillian wasn’t sure if the tree was trying to crush the life out of him or if she was draining him of power as she had Gregory.
Whatever the hamadryad was doing, it was a massive spell growing in size and power as she watched.
The very air vibrated to the flow of power. The flames which had earlier been crawling across Gryton’s armor were now hissing and flickering like a guttering candle. Well, at least the parts of him she could see under the mound of fibrous roots.
Shadowlight and Anna scrambled to their feet. The human soldier had an assault rifle pointed at Gryton, and Shadowlight was inching closer as well. Both looked uncertain what to do with the hamadryad still draining Gryton.
Lillian tightened her fist around the one sword she’d managed to hold on to. Taking one step and then another in the enemy’s direction she switched her hold to a two-handed one.
She might not know what her hamadryad was doing to Gryton, but she knew what needed doing. The power in the air intensified the closer she got to his location. Layers of magic thickened in the air, increasing in resistance with each step.
Lillian was almost upon her prey when she felt her hamadryad’s thoughts merge with hers.
Gryton is needed.
“Like hell.”
She raised her sword above her head, willing herself to plunge the blade down and separate his damned head from his shoulders. Surely all her gargoyle strength would be enough to end him.
She just had to do it.
One swift downward thrust and then it would be over, a threat neutralized. Justice served.
Closing her eyes, she shifted her weight and then thrust the blade down. Gargoyle strength and the magical blade cut through the layers of resistance protecting Gryton.
Bright light seared her eyes even with them closed tight and still she forced the blade downward until it’s tip buried itself in the spongy loam of her glade.
She didn’t have to open her eyes to know Gryton was gone.
Gone.
Not dead.
Her damn meddling hamadryad.
“Where is he?”
The hamadryad didn’t respond, at least not in thoughts or emotions Lillian could understand, but more power washed outward from the tree. A soothing flow of magic took away the throb of burns, the ache of cuts, and the thousand tiny abuses of a battered body. It did nothing for her emotional stress.
Gryton was gone, out of her reach—she didn’t know where. Yet, she doubted it was back to the Magic Realm. The hamadryad had alluded to needing him. So she’d probably stashed him somewhere out of the way.
The Spirit Realm would have been nice.
Lillian sighed and calmed her thoughts. Raging about an escaped enemy would do nothing to aid the survivors.
Immediate danger past, or at least out of her reach, she turned and took in the damage, her heart in her throat.
Gregory was an unmoving lump, and her father was cold stone. The fluctuating waves of power coming from her hamadryad prevented Lillian from sensing anything else.
Conflicted, Lillian turned a slow circle, stretching her magic and senses in an attempt to see if they still lived.
The lump of roots shifted, and Gregory fought his way onto his forearms, his ears shifting this way and that as he searched for her.
Relief and adrenaline spurred her into running. She skidded to a stop next to him as he fought to free himself from the hamadryad’s roots.
“Lillian?”
He turned his head and sniffed.
“Shhh, I’m here. We won.” Then she saw the blood seeping from under his closed lids. By the Goddess, he was blinded. “Oh, my poor love.” She reached for his face, but there were so many wounds she didn’t know where to touch him without causing more pain. She settled for stroking his horns.
“I will heal.” He brushed his muzzle along her arm, leaving a streak of blood behind. “Are you hurt?”
“No,” she said in a rush, “I was, but it was not as bad as you, and my hamadryad already healed me.”
“I owe her my life.”
“The tattoo almost killed you. I’m so sorry.”
“It was my choice. Not your fault.” Gregory tried to get his feet under him, but the roots still held him locked in their embrace. He slumped back and rolled onto his side. “Perhaps I will rest here a little while longer.”
“Why haven’t you turned to stone to heal?”
He nuzzled her hand and licked at her fingers. “The Sorceress is still healing me. I know my wounds look fierce, and they are, but she is healing them far more quickly than I could during my stone sleep.”
“If you say so.”
“She’s healing me from the inside and then working her way outwards.” Gregory sighed and then allowed his head to rest on the ground. “It will be some hours yet before I am healed enough to leave under my own power. You’ll have to stay here. I see the tattoos are still in evidence.”
“Of course I’m staying. I would even if the tattoo didn’t make it a requirement.” Lillian huffed angrily and then laid down next to Gregory. She might have offered to go aid the other survivors, but no one else was near enough to satisfy the tattoo’s need for closeness.
From her position next to Gregory, she watched as more soldiers and Fae made their way out of the maze and into the meadow. They scanned the area for signs of danger, and then slowly approached the survivors—though the humans were as uncertain of what help they could be as Lillian herself was.
Every survivor was covered in masses of fibrous roots, being healed by the hamadryad.
Corporal Mackenzie and Shadowlight were patrolling between River and Darkness. River was still alive, Lillian could hear her slow heartbeat and see the slight rise and fall of her breast with each breath.
Darkness was slumped on the grass, still a cold, unmoving statue. However, the fine mesh of roots growing over his stone skin gave Lillian hope he might awake again one day. She doubted her hamadryad would otherwise be lavishing attention on him. Shadowlight must have seen Gregory stirring, for he abandoned his parents to come over to Gregory and Lillian.
Her little brother sniffed Gregory over and gave a little whine, but he didn’t say anything aloud. However, his eyes asked a great pleading question.
“Gregory,” she asked, not really wanting to give him something else to worry or feel guilty over, but both she and Shadowlight needed to know. “Can our father heal from what Gryton did to him?”
“Gryton is more formidable than I had….expected. But Darkness is old and powerful, too. All gargoyles have a choice when they are mortally injured. Return to the Lord of the Underworld in spirit form and then be reborn, or sleep the stone sleep. I am sorry. Either way will take him out of your lives for many years. He is stone, so he chose to stay with his family. Even if he cannot be a flesh and blood father to either of you at the mome
nt, he is here in spirit. Your father loves you both very much.”
“Mother said the same thing,” Shadowlight confessed, “but I wasn’t sure if I could believe her. I thought she lied to spare my feelings.”
“In this she spoke the truth.” Gregory answered.
Lillian continued to sit and guard her beloved long after Shadowlight had returned to his pacing between River and Darkness.
Gran arrived at some point in the company of yet more soldiers. She recognized Major Resnick. If there were more brass with him, she didn’t recognize them.
Resnick and Gran worked to keep the peace and coordinate the two different factions. By some miracle, and maybe it was divine intervention, the Fae and the humans held to the earlier alliance. It may have helped that the hamadryad was healing both human and Fae survivors, showing no preference between the two.
Lillian was far too tired to care. She rested her muzzle on her forearms and closed her eyes. She didn’t sleep deeply though, still not trusting the uneasy peace, and her ears tracked every sound in the glade.
Chapter Forty-Two
Several hours later, Lillian had awakened in dryad form after having fallen asleep even after telling herself she wouldn’t. She never knew if it was a dream, or simply the act of sleep itself which triggered her to shift from gargoyle back to dryad form. That was a question to ask Gregory another time.
Gran had told her the scientists were practically tripping over each other to get her reverse shift on tape.
Lillian frowned at her reflection in the bathroom mirror. Yeah, she was certain there was going to be scientists and military and complex politics in her future. Luckily, Gran was dealing with that mess for the moment.
For the rest of this night, all she had to face was a long, hot bubble bath, where she planned to soak away the day’s worries along with the aches of her abused body. Her hand strayed to her belly, still marveling at the life which grew there. Gregory had checked her over as soon as he was back on his feet and proclaimed their child was still a strong life force within her.
The relief which had washed over her had left her weak-kneed and ridiculously happy. That mellow warmth had stayed with her all the way back to the house and up the stairs. It had even survived watching Gregory strip and step into the shower where the powerful showerheads washed away the layers of dried blood and loam to show her the raised ridges of pale scar tissue crisscrossing his body.
Her beautiful gargoyle looked like someone had cut him up and sewn him back together.
“They’ll fade again in a few days,” Gregory said as he stepped out of the shower.
“Do they still hurt?” Of course, they did. How could they not?
Gregory shrugged. “They still ache a little. The warmth of the shower helped.”
He turned to the vanity and hunted through the drawers for a comb to tame the wild mess of his mane.
Her eyes slid sideways to her bubble bath and then back to Gregory. The heat of the water would do him good. It was a big Jacuzzi-type tub. She went over and sat on one of the steps leading up to it, and then eyed Gregory’s large form again.
“Come here.” She patted the step next to her.
“There are certainly more comfortable places to sit,” he said with an accompanying flick of his tail.
“How comfortable is it to rest on your wings? Do you think you could fit?” she gestured at the tub again. “The heat would do you good.”
He looked like he was going to shake his head, so she decided to sweeten the deal. “I’ll groom your mane for you while you soak.”
Gregory huffed softly and then walked over to the tub. He discarded the towels he’d already wrapped around his hips and stepped into the water without a word. Lillian turned her head to the side so he wouldn’t see her grin.
When he relaxed back into the water, she scooted behind his head, and equipped with a comb, began work on his mane. She’d only taken three sweeps at the task when Gregory reached behind him and stroked her leg where it was draping over the side into the water.
Wordlessly, he reached for the other leg and then arranged them both, so they draped over his shoulders and then allowed the heels to rest against his pectorals. She sighed when he started to rub them in a skillful massage.
“Foot massage in payment for untangling this mess,” Lillian tapped the comb playfully against one of his horns. “Sounds about right to me.”
He rumbled out a wordless agreement as he worked.
As much as she enjoyed the foot rub and grooming his mane, only a part of Lillian’s attention was on the tasks at hand. When she closed her eyes, what played over and over on the backs of her lids was seeing Gregory about to be torn apart by a magic that was his birthright. He’d been going to sacrifice himself to save the rest of them.
It was noble and brave, but she didn’t want him to die for her.
She wanted him to live to raise their child. She wanted her mate. She’d come far too close to losing him.
Lillian leaned down and pressed a kiss to first one horn and then the other. Gregory paused in his massage and tilted his face back to study her. Then decided, she pulled her feet from his grasp and turned sideways so she could stand and come around the side.
He was still looking up at her questioningly though he had to know what she was thinking. Untying her robe, she shrugged it off her shoulders. Underneath she was naked. Gregory inhaled, his lips parting to better take in her scent.
Leaning forward, she braced her hands against his shoulders and placed kisses along the side of his face and neck. He rumbled, and returned the favor, wrapping his hands around her hips to help her balance.
There was a ripple in the suds, and then his tail emerged from the depths and slid along her right leg from ankle to hip and back again before it coiled around the calf to anchor her in place. Not that she felt the least bit like running away. Gregory rumbled again and dragged her closer until she was in danger of losing her balance and falling into the tub with him.
“Hmmm, love, that would likely be painful for all parties.”
The way his brow furrowed was almost comical. “Strange little dryad, I have no plans to let you come to harm anytime soon.”
He hoisted her up and into the tub with him. Lillian squealed, but it quickly changed to a surprised gasp as Gregory settled her in his lap. She tried to keep some of her weight supported in her arms so she wouldn’t knee him too badly somewhere sensitive. “I hadn’t intended for this to…I mean I know you’re dead tired. I don’t expect you to…”
Gregory laughed, shaking her entire body. “Nor had I intended anything more than playfulness. In truth, I’m not sure if I’ll be able to…preform as required. However, I very much like the direction this is taking. I think we can make this work.” He kissed her again, shifting her closer. The position wedged her knees to either side of his hips and it left little up to the imagination, and she leaned forward to kiss him in return. When he finally cupped her breasts, she sighed out his name and allowed herself to relax against him. Even if neither of them was at their best, it could only be good between them.
He slowly rocked against her, the solid heat of him hotter than the bathwater. “I can’t guarantee stamina, but I’m more than willing to brave an attempt,” he rumbled in her ear.
“I love you,” she said in between kisses and nips as she caressed him.
Gregory rumbled his own deep-throated words of love, and then there was no more talking for a long time, only soft kisses, groans, and laughter. And lots of splashing.
Chapter Forty-Three
A heavy-handed knocking roused Lillian enough to lift her head off of Gregory’s well-muscled chest. Whoever was on the other side of the door better have a really damn good reason.
“If the Lord of the Underworld and the Lady of Battles are not, at this very moment, fighting to the death on the front lawn,” Gregory growled at the door. “I’m going to eat someone.”
There was a stretch of silence, and then
shuffling outside the door. Lillian heard Gran’s voice scolding someone. “Get out of my way.”
“Sure,” Jason whispered back. “Better you than me. Gregory didn’t sound too happy about being disturbed.”
The door handle wiggled, but the door didn’t open. Lillian had wised up and jammed a chair under the handle. Gregory had laughed at her last night. She arched a brow at him. “See? Told you. Not even twenty-four hours peace. My bet is the scientists want us to pee in a cup.”
“Humans are strange.”
“Tell me about it.”
The knocking came again. Harder. Gran this time.
“Get out here or you two are going to miss all the action. The hamadryad is up to something.”
Gregory lunged out of bed so fast it bounced. Lillian jumped to her feet as well. He was already tying on his beaded loincloth, Lillian was just a step behind him, when she pulled on the first thing that came to hand—a sun dress.
What had Gran sounding so flustered? More importantly, what was her hamadryad up to now? Had she returned Gryton?
She raced after Gregory as they made their way downstairs and out the back door. He dropped to all fours and soon outdistanced Lillian. In dryad form, she couldn’t keep up with him, and he was so focused on his destination he was ignoring the warning flares from the tattoos.
Well, hell. Even breaking into a sprint, Lillian barely kept the tip of his tail in sight. She raced after him, calling his name, but he ignored her. By the time she cleared the maze and crossed the distance to her tree, Gregory was already there. He’d reared up to stand on two legs, his wings mantled out behind him in shocked surprise.
Lillian joined him, wishing she’d thought to grab a sword or some other weapon. Inching out around his wings, she peered at her tree, not sure what she was expecting to see. But the gaping, bloody crevasse in the hamadryad’s trunk wasn’t it. The greater surprise was the slim line of a leg emerging from the trunk. It was pale, and blood covered, but human-looking. The rest of the body followed suit, extracting itself…no herself, for the body was female, from the hamadryad’s embrace.
Sorceress Hunting (A Gargoyle and Sorceress Tale Book 3) Page 26
