Gargoyle and Sorceress Boxset 2

by Lisa Blackwood

  “I’m only vaguely familiar with your Earth science and medicine, but that seems logical.”

  Anna just shook her head. “She created the ultimate biological weapon, one that would convert her enemies into her own enslaved army.”

  “Indeed.”

  “How contagious are you?” Anna paused. “Obviously, I don’t have to worry since I’ve already been converted. But what about other people? How dangerous are you to them?”

  “How contagious are we, you mean,” he continued, finally working up to tell her what she hadn’t yet come to realize herself.

  “We?” She turned her head to look at him over her shoulder. “Of course, I’m a carrier.”

  “Yes.”

  “God. We’re biohazardous.”

  She had to explain the word, but once he understood, he agreed with her assessment. They were dangerous.

  “How bad is it? Not airborne, obviously, or the healers wouldn’t have let us intermingle with the other island residents.” Anna’s fingers drummed against her thigh.

  “A direct fluid exposure is needed,” he said as he started on a second braid.

  “Then the virus can’t live outside a host for long?”

  “The healers do not believe so.”

  “Good. Otherwise, we’d risk infecting others by a simple touch.”

  Obsidian nodded. “The one small blessing is that it takes several exchanges over the course of a few days before the virus has changed the new host body enough to survive in it long-term.”

  “So even if you accidentally exposed someone to your blood during a session in the training ring, they wouldn’t be converted immediately.”

  “No. That only happens after several willful exchanges,”

  “That’s a relief.”

  “Yes.”

  “You’ve put a lot of thought into this.”

  “Yes.”

  They were silent for a time after that, the only sound the slide of his fingers against her hair.

  By the time he was nearly finished braiding her hair, the moons were lower in the sky, and Anna’s head was tipping forward.

  “I’m almost finished.”

  She mumbled a sleepy acknowledgment.

  After he tied off the last braid, he tucked her against his chest and lowered them into his nest. She never woke, merely shifting until she was more comfortable.

  He briefly thought about leaving his nest to her and sleeping over by the wall as she’d planned to do. While he was no longer a frightened child locked away in a dungeon cell, he had missed the comforting warmth of curling next to his Kyrsu.

  Holding Anna in his arms was a balm for his loneliness. Only she’d ever been able to soothe away his worries.

  So, with no guilt, he curled around her and was soon asleep.

  Chapter 24

  Bands of pressure wrapped her chest and thighs. As she swam out of sleep, she wondered when and how she’d managed to get injured again. She blinked open her eyes to discover she wasn’t wounded. Nope. She was presently being smothered to death by a seven-limbed octopus.

  The octopus was actually her big brute of a Rasoren. Presently he’d mistaken her for his teddy bear.

  Obsidian slept oblivious that she was awake. If the situation had been different—say she was marooned in the Arctic—being folded in his arms, wings, and coiled tail might be appealing. But since they weren’t, they needed to set some ground rules.

  As she stared up at the wooden rafters of the peaked ceiling, she catalogued the sensation of waking up in his arms. He had damn fine pecs, rock hard abs, and an absolutely lovely scent clinging to his warm skin. She hadn’t noticed that before.

  She breathed in a deeper lungful. Mmm. Nice.

  Obsidian might just be her new favorite scent. It took her a minute to realize she’d turned her head to rub her cheek against his skin.

  A touch of reason slowly returned.

  What the hell was wrong with her?

  “Your gargoyle body is entering sexual maturity.” A sleepy purr accompanied his words. Moments later Obsidian ran his muzzle along her arm, his tongue darting out to lick her skin in places. “I can taste the pheromones in your sweat. Your first fertility cycle.”

  “What are you talking about? I had my first period when I was eleven.”

  “Hmmm.” He took another sniff as if to make sure and another little purr escaped him before he continued his previous line of thought. “But when I converted you I was only eight, so my blood and magic only changed you into a preadolescent gargoyle. It likely took the magic raised during last night’s dance to trigger your change. The healing magic might have helped things along as well.”

  He continued to sniff along her skin in a way she knew her rational mind wouldn’t like. The problem was, she wasn’t feeling too rational, and she wasn’t nearly as bothered by his words or actions as she likely should be.

  “I had not thought of this complication. I suppose I’d always just assumed you were sexually mature.” He continued to nuzzle the skin of her shoulder and back of her neck.

  She’d likely find this awkward later.

  “Maybe you should let me up now?”

  “Very well.” Obsidian’s rumbled agreement held a hint of disappointment, but he released his hold on her as his wings folded back.

  She rolled to her knees. Now that she was away from his scent, she felt more alert. She studied him suspiciously. He ignored her. Too busy stretching, rolling, and arching his back like a cat in a patch of catnip. Jeez, he was even purring for fuck’s sake.

  The entire session was far too weirdly sensual for her peace of mind. She cast a glance down south of his belt. He was a big fellow. It would be noticeable if he were sporting morning wood. Whatever was going on in his mind, it didn’t seem to include a raging desire for her. At least that was a relief.

  “Morning wood?” Obsidian laughed. “I think that’s just a human condition. At least, I’ve never suffered it.”

  That might be true, but something was going on, and Anna didn’t like it. “Stop reading my mind.”

  “I’m not. You initiated the link. Your magic is running back along our link, teasing my senses. It’s an invitation, I think.”

  “The hell it is!” But when she reached for their link, her magic was already flowing along it like he’d said, and there was no reason it should be doing that since he wasn’t hurt.

  She slammed up her mental shields and stopped the flow of magic. Feeling an unusual heat in her cheeks, she tried to ignore the fiery blush as she focused on him.

  “Sorry about that. Wouldn’t have done it willingly.”

  “I know.” Obsidian shrugged a little. “I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t flattered. Though I know this part of our bond makes you uneasy, so I’ll try to prevent it from happening in the future. You caught me unawares this time.”

  “Don’t apologize. Wasn’t your fault.” It was her stubborn and apparently frisky gargoyle nature that was the issue here. She’d need to find a way to shut this shit down.

  “We should likely go to the healers. They might have something that will help. As it is now, the first male to catch your scent will begin to speculate if you’re really human at all.”

  “Healers? Why didn’t you start the conversation with that? We could already have been half-way there.”

  He rolled his eyes at her. “There’s no hurry. It’s not life or death.”

  She gave him her best death glare.

  “Fine. I’m coming.”

  Obsidian muttered something under his breath that didn’t sound too complimentary.

  ∞∞∞

  Maradryn walked across the length of her workroom to one of the shelves running along the west wall. After shifting a few jars aside, she found the one she wanted. “Anna, Obsidian is correct. Your gargoyle nature has matured overnight. There was no sign of it yesterday morning or even last night when we chatted. You’re most certainly entering your first fertility cycle. But considering a str
ing of gargoyles didn’t follow you here, I think it’s safe to assume the pheromone is only designed to entice your Rasoren.”

  Fan-fucking-tastic.

  If she’d had the ability, she’d have melted between the seams in the stone floor and vanished into the dirt.

  But as the healer said, she was lucky it didn’t affect all gargoyles.

  Anna stared at her sandals and grit her teeth. “Please tell me you have something to make my body stop producing this shit.”

  “No, but I have something that should help Obsidian.” She unscrewed the lid of the jar she held, gave the contents a little sniff, scrunched up her nose and then reached in and scooped a bit of the pale green paste onto her fingers. “This cream is made from a tree possessing a substance in its bark and sap that contains a mildly caustic compound. The cream completely burns out a gargoyle’s ability to smell for a good half a day. That should give him a reprieve until you learn to neutralize your pheromones using a shadow magic shield.”

  Maradryn paused and looked up at Obsidian. “And you shouldn’t have any trouble focusing on your training session today.”

  Obsidian didn’t move his feet, but his upper body leaned away from the approaching healer. “I’m sure I’ll be able to manage just fine. The cream isn’t necessary.”

  “Ha! Says you until you get distracted and come to me for healing after you get a sword thrust through your gut.” Maradryn daftly snagged his lower jaw and pulled him down to her level. Then fast as a snake striking, three of the fingers covered in the cream, smeared a strip under his nostrils.

  He reared back and whined, his eyes already streaming.

  Shit. He’d actually whined.

  When the healer held out the jar, its lid now safely tapped back in place, he took a few more steps back and grunted in denial.

  Anna held out her hand. “I’ll keep that somewhere safe in case we need it again.”

  “Be careful. That is at full strength. As you can see, he only needed a little bit to do the job.”

  “Yep. Got that from the whine.” But she wouldn’t ask Obsidian to use something she wouldn’t try herself. Anna popped the cork and dipped in one finger and then cautiously held it up to her nose.

  It was almost a pleasant scent until it detonated like a bomb going off in her face.

  A pungent scent invaded her nose, mouth, and eyes. A frosty eucalyptus-like burn swiftly amped up into a ‘mouthwash on steroids’ sensation. From there it increased in unpleasantness until it was like she’d borrowed the devil’s own brand of aftershave, mixed in a little vapor rub, then added a dash of napalm for good measure.

  Sputtering and gasping, her eyes and nose streaming, she managed to wheeze out a weak, “Fuck me!”

  Maradryn arched a brow.

  “Fuck! Shit burns. What’s this crap normally used for? Torture sessions?”

  “Training sessions. Though usually a more dilute form. One of the tasks for the Adept Trial requires the student to learn to hunt and track using senses other than their nose. Not all enemies can be tracked by scent. This replicates that handicap.”

  Thank God the burning sensation soon mellowed into a kind of numbness.

  “Guess if someone sees me with this in my stuff, I can say it’s for training.”

  “Fear not. No one would guess that evil crap has any beneficial use,” Obsidian growled from behind her.

  She turned to find him sharp-eyed and clear-headed. No more purring. She breathed a sigh of relief.

  “Nice to see you’re back with us.”

  Obsidian huffed. “That stuff would revive the dead. I’m fine now.”

  Anna bumped shoulders with him. “Sorry that it was necessary. I didn’t know about my gargoyle nature’s newest trick. I’m almost afraid to learn what else the Battle Goddess has engineered into us.”

  He bumped her shoulder gently in return. “Whatever surprises arise, we’ll get through them together.”

  “Partners,” she agreed with a grin.

  “Let’s go find something to eat before we’re due at the council chambers.”

  Chapter 25

  Anna walked up the last few steps and emerged into the as-of-yet empty Council chambers. Which, she realized as she walked farther in, wasn’t a chamber at all. Located three-quarters of the way up the most massive tree on the island, the structure was a broad platform circling the enormous hamadryad’s trunk.

  There were no walls, just a waist-high carved railing that ringed the platform and provided a breathtaking view of the surrounding tree canopy, the velvet green mountain peaks to the west, and the vast ocean all around. In the distance, she could see the mainland.

  Overhead, a beautiful filigree lattice covered in flowering vines provided cover from the sun. Her gargoyle nature was quick to detect a shimmering dome just a few inches above the vines. Upon closer examination, her magic discovered its primary function was protection against the elements, but a few adjustments to the knotted spell work would transform it into a defensive shield against any outside attacks.

  “It’s never been needed to serve that function. A few tropical storms are the worst it has had to repel.” Obsidian’s mind touched hers briefly and then retreated, as if unsure of his welcome.

  Earlier, during breakfast, she’d discovered her mental barrier kept slipping. Hell, that was an understatement. Her gargoyle nature kept sabotaging her efforts. That wasn’t Obsidian’s fault, though. And in this instance, it was beneficial to have their minds linked.

  “Keep the little insights coming, especially anything you have on the Masters.”

  They’d come early enough that none of the council had arrived yet. Which was both good and bad. Good, because it gave her time to compose herself. Bad, because it gave her time to worry about Obsidian’s punishment.

  Banrook had promised the council would assign punishment to both Obsidian and Reaver today.

  “Do not worry. I welcome any punishment. Beating Reaver unconscious for what he caused…” A growl cut off his sentence, and he had to clear his throat to continue. “Whatever comes, I will accept my punishment with grace, and we can then begin our training.”

  Anna wasn’t so sure if her gargoyle nature would be willing to sit back and chill while someone was harming her Rasoren. It didn’t help that they didn’t yet know his punishment.

  As they walked farther along the platform, she spotted the floor to ceiling shelves filled with scrolls and whatnot. Obsidian led her around the long curve of the hamadryad’s trunk, revealing what was on the opposite side of the platform from the stairs.

  A sizeable crescent-shaped table made of a cherry-colored wood and polished until it gleamed in the light dominated the space. Behind the table sat six padded benches, upholstered in a dark green, velvet-like fabric. The seats were also subtly curved to mimic the curve of the hamadryad’s trunk behind them.

  Her eyes were drawn up to a hulking symbol with gold inlay that was carved and poured directly into the hamadryad’s bark. It was done in a style similar to ornate filigree crossed with Celtic knot-work; though it was its own unique style she was coming to recognize as the art of either the dryads or the gargoyles who lived here.

  “It’s a blending of both.” Obsidian supplied.

  She thought she was seeing an emblem of a winged tree. But after a moment’s study she spotted the two stylized gargoyles standing guard on either side. Below the tree, four swords with their hilts crossed, added a more war-like element to the artistic beauty of the insignia.

  “It’s the symbol of Haven and the new gargoyle legion.”

  He might have said more, but just then his ears twitched and swung toward the stairs. Anna turned in that direction as well. A full minute later she heard the approach of others.

  “I’m surprised they didn’t fly.”

  “They likely did fly part way, like we did, but the buffeting of wings as they breach the shield tends to clear the table of scrolls and reports placed there by their aides.”

 
; Anna’s eyes tracked back to the long, crescent-shaped table.

  As each of the masters arrived, Obsidian bowed, Anna following suit. She recognized each of them from the last couple days. Banrook entered first, coming to Obsidian and cuffing him affectionately on the shoulder before taking his seat at the table. Maradryn nodded a greeting. There was some secret amusement in her eye that made Anna think the other masters likely now knew of her gargoyle nature’s newest surprise.

  Next came the dour-faced Verroc.

  Sumdara, the dryad tracker she hadn’t seen since their first introduction, brought up the rear.

  That left two empty seats. The masters were shuffling through the various reports on the table, so Anna used the lull. “Who else are we waiting for?”

  “Likely no one. Thayn is the oldest of the gargoyles and leader of the council, but his duties usually require him in the future, and he only makes the trip back a few times a season. The other seat belongs to Rook’s daughter, Brinrook. She and her mate reside in the future, still recovering after they sacrificed most of their magical power to strengthen their son and make him battle worthy to fight even though he’d been born early like me.”

  “Who’s their son?”

  “Gregory.”

  “Wow. Wait? Rook is Gregory’s grandad? When were you going to get around to telling me that bit of news?”

  “As things came up?”

  Anna rolled her eyes at him but didn’t show any other outward signs of displeasure. Not when the council looked to be almost ready to begin.

  But just as Master Verroc opened his mouth to speak, a mighty beating of wings heralded the arrival of another. Papers and scrolls flew off the table and swirled around in the air for a time and then with a few more powerful downbeats the gargoyle landed, sending a flurry of parchment and quills skittering off the edge of the platform to flutter away on the ocean breeze.

  “Thayn!” Verroc growl. “How many times—”