Sorceress Awakening (10 page)

“Sorry,” Lillian muttered.

Kayla, clearly still affronted by Gran’s
words, crossed her legs and sat back against the sofa and stared off into one
corner without an apology.

“So have any of you actually seen a
gargoyle up close?” Lillian asked.

The third dryad cleared her throat and
quietly introduced herself as Russet. “Kayla is too young,” she continued in
her soft-spoken way. “But I have, once long ago. While they are fierce in their
true forms, they are also capable of great compassion and gentleness.”

“True forms?”

“Lillian,” Gran cut off Russet. “We’ll talk
more about the gargoyle later, but now Sable and I need to discuss business.
Why don’t you make some tea?”

Lillian winced at the dismissal, but got up
from her chair and went to the kitchen. She couldn’t sense her gargoyle
anywhere near. Like Gran said, he must have disappeared at some point during
the conversation about kinky sex. Smart fellow.

Alone in the kitchen, she put the tea
kettle on to boil while she thought over the last conversation. It was best the
gargoyle wasn’t around. It would be beyond awkward to ask him outright if he
expected fringe benefits for saving her. And the stress of the last day had
obliterated the filter between her brain and her mouth. No telling what would
come out if she talked to him now.

She gathered her grandmother’s fancy cups
and saucers from the cupboard by the back window. While placing them on a tray
next to the teapot, she glanced out. Her uncle and brother were cleaning the
garden. Her uncle lugged an oversized gasoline jug.

It hadn’t occurred to her what “cleaning
up” would entail. Now she witnessed the gruesome details as he poured a
generous amount of fuel on one dark spot. Of course they’d need to burn away
the blood and remains. If a gargoyle’s blood could heal, there was no telling
what evil-tainted blood might do. A match ignited the spot.

Mesmerized by the flames, she watched until
the kettle’s shrill whistle broke her concentration. She shook herself and made
the tea. Earl Grey, her grandmother’s favorite. Maybe it would put Gran in a
talkative mood. With each new piece of knowledge Lillian gained, more questions
surfaced. Topmost were
‘Who am I?’
and
‘Why am I here?’
but
‘What
did the gargoyle want?’
was a close third now. That a gargoyle, one of the
Light’s Assassin’s, was glued to her side couldn’t bode well for a peaceful
future.

Well, the kitchen tiles weren’t going to
give her any information. She scooped up the tray of cups in one hand and the
teapot in the other. Armed with tea and cookies, she went to find more answers.

Back in the living room, Gran and the
dryads had turned the coffee table into a combat command center. Maps with
topographical overlays showed rivers and land elevations. One looked like a
modern road map, except instead of the familiar towns and cities, there were a
strange lot of squiggles and foreign names around boundaries she didn’t
understand, like some alien civilization had taken over the world she knew.

“They violated Clan territory to get here.”
Gran frowned down at the map. “I want to know how they escaped the Clan’s
notice.”

“What if they
didn’t
escape the
Clan’s notice?” Sable asked.

“No. I don’t believe it. The Clan wouldn’t
sell us out.”

“No, we need the Coven, but even I will
admit not all of the Clan can be trusted. And it might not even have been
maliciously done. A dire wolf is loyal to its pack first.”

“They suffered as much as we did in the
attacks six years ago.”

“Yes, and they might be desperate to
protect their remaining members. What would you be willing to do to protect a
loved one?”

“You’re guessing.”

“No more than you,” Sable countered.

Gran grunted. “Fine, we’ll be on guard. The
alphas are coming here tomorrow after the Hunt. I will question them then. And
if they are deceitful, the gargoyle may beat me to them.”

“Why not bring Lillian and the gargoyle to
tonight’s Hunt? If they are hiding anything, the gargoyle will smell their
deception.”

“Yes, I plan to talk to the gargoyle about
that.” Gran looked up and motioned for Lillian to serve the tea. “Ah, lovely.”

Lillian let her mind go blank as she filled
teacups, politely asking what everyone wanted in theirs. She was pouring her
grandmother a cup when movement on the stairs caught Lillian’s attention.

A tall man glided down the stairs with an
athlete’s grace—a nearly naked man, she amended. A rather handsome, nearly naked
man with a great expanse of coffee-brown skin on display. His knee-length
beaded loincloth, gold torque, and gem-encrusted armbands were suspiciously
like her gargoyle’s. A silky black mane reached passed his shoulders and was
tied at the back with a piece of hide. His bare, human feet made no noise as he
descended.

“I think that’s enough tea, Lillian,” Gran
said.

Lillian glanced down. She’d overfilled the
teacup and flooded its saucer. A pool of steaming tea spread across the walnut
table. Cursing she snatched some napkins to sop up the mess.

Kayla looked at Lillian with a superior expression
on her face. “You don’t know much about your gargoyle.” She smiled coyly, and
continued to whisper in a conspiratorial tone, “Regret saying I can have him?
Vivian said he takes commands from you, yes?” She paused, her smile becoming a
grin. “If that is true, your word is his law.”

A cold, unreasoning rage built within
Lillian. Her words, uttered in a moment’s thoughtlessness, might have more
weight than she intended. And whatever happened because of her senseless words,
it would be her fault. No, she would not let the gargoyle get caught in some
political game thought up by some oversexed tree spirit. She tightened her grip
on the teapot.

While Gran and Sable, trailed by Russet,
went forward to meet the gargoyle, Lillian leaned closer to Kayla. “It doesn’t
matter what I say or think. Gregory is a living creature with the same rights
as the rest of us. He’s free to do whatever he wants, and it’s none of our
business. Nothing I have said in the past or will say in the future will change
that. If you try to use this to circumvent his free will, I will hunt you down
and make you regret so much as asking what his name was.”

Kayla paled and came to her feet. She held
her position, facing Lillian for a whole five seconds, then bolted for the
safety of the other dryads. Lillian grimaced at the back of the retreating
woman. Looking further, she met the dark eyes of the gargoyle. His flashed with
humor.

Oh shit, he’d heard.

“Darling,” Gran said, disrupting Lillian’s
thoughts, “Now that we’ve told you all we can about your kind, I think Gregory
wants to tell you a little about your history.”

Gran’s shit-eating grin told Lillian her
grandmother’s sharp ears had picked up on the little bit of drama. Lillian
envied her grandmother’s ability to multitask. It was criminal.

The gargoyle didn’t give her long to worry
about what everyone had overheard. He gestured for them to take a seat.

Lillian sat and noted a problem. There
weren’t enough chairs. Before she could go retrieve one, the human-form
gargoyle walked to her side and stood at her right shoulder. His one hand
rested on the arm of the wingback chair. Up close, it was hard to miss a few
anomalies. His nails were a proper human length, but it looked like they’d been
painted with black nail polish, and their shape was off—too pointed, both at
the tips and the nail base. He flexed his hand, and the nails lengthened a half-inch.
When he relaxed his hand, the nails returned to their original length.

Oh boy.

His little demonstration let her know he
was aware of being studied. Since she’d been found out, she studied him
frankly, following the hand up the wrist to the smooth, hairless arm. Ah,
that’s what caused the slight hint of foreignness that had nagged at the back
of her mind when she’d first looked upon him. Like his gargoyle form, the only
hair was on his head, and his skin had a slight sheen to it, like a faint oil
had been smoothed over it. Wide, dark eyes fringed with a generous amount of
lashes looked back. They were his only soft feature.

A strong jaw and nose combined with a wide
forehead gave him a rugged look. Certainly not pretty-boy handsome, but still
striking—if a woman could actually tear her eyes away from his perfectly
proportioned body long enough to take note of the face. Damn, but he was built
like a master sculptor had personally had a hand in his shaping.

Brushing back a few strands of his hair,
she tucked them behind his pointed ears. He smiled, his lips stretching back
from white teeth. He had two large canines on both his upper and lower jaw that
would put a vampire to shame.

She looked away, only to realize everyone
else in the room had watched her while she’d ogled the gargoyle’s altered form.
Great. A wave of heat spread all the way down her neck, but she raised her head
and pretended she was a queen and these were her subjects. It lasted until her
brother entered the living room from the kitchen, followed by her Uncle Alan.
The two men glanced at the gargoyle and then at Lillian’s face.

Her brother tried to say something, but he
started laughing and couldn’t get it out.

She glared at him. It wasn’t her fault the
damn gargoyle had suddenly decided he wanted to look more appealing for the
three pretty dryads sitting across from her. He’d had plenty of time to wander
around looking sinfully handsome and he hadn’t bothered for her. Not knowing
what else to do, she pretended she hadn’t just spent the last five minutes
checking Gregory out. She gave her grandmother a baffled look for good measure.

Gran didn’t bother to hide her smirk.
“Jason, see if any of your clothes will fit the gargoyle. The nights still get
cold.”

Gregory reached for Lillian’s hand where it
rested against the armrest. Caught by surprise, she let him intertwine his
fingers with hers. Baffled, she studied his features to discern his mood. His
expression remained blank a moment, and then with a sudden smile, he turned and
dropped to sit cross-legged on the floor at her feet. He leaned back against
her legs, and placed her captured hand on his right shoulder, then laid his own
over top. She would have jerked free of his grasp but she didn’t want to draw
any more attention to herself. Fixing her gaze on the back of his head, she
willed a calm mask to cover her rioting emotions.

Not for the first time in his many lives,
Gregory wished he was just a gargoyle and Lillian was simply the woman he
loved. But no amount of wishing on his part could make them anything other than
the Avatars. Lillian was the Mother’s Sorceress. He was the God-blessed
Protector. Nothing could ever change that fact—stone was more flexible. Yet he
still played this stupid and dangerous game with the Sorceress. He couldn’t
help himself. Anger had stirred in his gut when the dryads talked of him as if
he was a stud to win over with words of seduction and coy looks. Then Lillian
had said she didn’t want him, that the young one with the look of a predator
could have him. He narrowed his eyes, the ache in his heart still too fresh.

While the Divine Ones forbade their Avatars
from mating with each other, his lady had always loved him without
uncertainties or regrets throughout their many lifetimes. Even if they never
fulfilled their deepest longing for fear of birthing a monster with godlike
power upon the three Realms, they had their millennia-enduring love to rely
upon when sadness became bitter. Until now, when the Sorceress had said she
didn’t want her gargoyle.

Her careless words had hurt more than he’d
ever let her know, but the sting had diminished moments later when she defended
him from the other young dryad. His lips turned up at the memory of how Lillian
had said she would do many unpleasant things to the foolish youngling if Kayla
tried to coerce him into mating with her. Not that Kayla would have succeeded.
Nothing would make him even consider mating with her. He glanced at Kayla. It
wasn’t her form that repelled him. It was her expression. She stared at him
with hunger bordering on obsession.

When he inhaled a deep lungful of air, it
was impossible to not taste Lillian’s essence, they sat so close. It was sap
sweet, but thankfully lacked the heady tang of her blood. He’d already broken
one oath to save her life. How many others would she tempt him to break in this
life? He glanced down at his hybrid form. Unwise as it might be, perhaps he was
the one doing the tempting now.

It was the nagging worry she saw him as
more beast than man that had prompted him to first change his shape. His
judgment was compromised when he was in the same room with his lady. It was the
only explanation. For why else would he complicate the situation more than
needed?

He grimaced as the truth came to him. Had
he been thinking rationally instead of acting like a hormone-drunk fool, he
would have let her believe him a beast, some kind of loyal pet. Instead, his
anger had swayed him into taking this form to show Lillian what she was
throwing away, what she did not want.

All this would be so much easier if Lillian
remembered who she was, but he dared not restore the Sorceress’s memories until
he had time to investigate what the Lady of Battles had done to her. There was
no telling what traps the dark goddess had cast upon Lillian’s soul.

He’d stalled long enough. While he couldn’t
tell the full truth, there
was
information Lillian needed now.

“I don’t know your world or its troubles,”
he began, “but I have sensed an unbalance growing in this Realm while I slept
in stone. It grows stronger with each season, and if I am not mistaken, it has
cost you and your people much grief.”

“The Riven.” Vivian gave him an
accompanying nod.

“Yes,” he rumbled, “these creatures are
known to me.” He glanced sidelong at his lady. She sat pressed into her chair,
leaning back so far it looked like she might break the back off the seat in her
attempt to put space between them. If he could have gotten away with touching
some part of her, he would have read her thoughts. But to judge by her pale
lips and pinched look, she was about to bolt, so he didn’t. Instead, he turned
to Vivian. “I listened as you told Lillian about your troubles with these
Riven, but when did these problems start?”

“A few years ago. Why?”

“Lillian and I first came to this Realm
twelve years ago. Is twelve years a reasonable time estimate for when the dark
ones arrived?”

“Are you saying you and Lillian are
responsible for the creatures of darkness coming here?”

“Perhaps. I will start from the beginning
so you can understand what has happened.” He stared at Lillian while he talked,
focusing on her until the others in the room became distant to him,
unimportant. “First you must know we share a link of magic and spirit, one
which has endured many lifetimes together.” Lillian’s eyes widened at the word
lifetimes
,
but she remained silent.

He held still as she reached out to caress
his hair. Her lips shaped his name. He intertwined his fingers with hers and
brought her hand to rest over his heart. At the contact, her thoughts flowed to
him from where her hand rested on his chest: an overwhelming sense of peace
whenever they were together. Wonder and curiosity. Excitement mixed with a hint
of fear at her new awareness of him. But eclipsing all else was her
unconditional trust in him.

 Basking in that warmth, he continued,
“When I was still gestating in my mother’s tree, I felt you in my mind, calling
me. I could not deny that summons. Newly born, the fluids of my mother’s tree
damp and sticky upon my flesh, I answered your call. I was still learning how
to coordinate my limbs when the memories of our past lives came to me,
awakening with my power. Not yet a day old and I already knew my purpose—to
protect you.”

Her gaze flicked from his face to their
interlaced fingers, then back again.

She didn’t pull away, so he resumed his
story. “Had my father not been near at the time of my birth, I would have run
off in pursuit of you without any weapons but for what I was born with. He
couldn’t stop me from seeking you out, but he gave me his warded jewelry as
added protection until my magic awoke fully. I went on the hunt, following the
direction of your calls. They led me to the Lady of Battles’ domain. I rescued
you, but the escape cost me much of my magical strength. Passing through the
Veil between the Realms is something only a limited number of immortals can
survive. We were still too young. The Veil came close to killing us. Had I been
older, with the full force of my magic at my command, I could have sealed the
rift and returned home to our own Realm. But I didn’t have the strength and
made the shorter journey to the Mortal Realm where I found this family to raise
you. Then I surrendered to the healing sleep of stone until you woke me. It’s
possible something from that realm followed us here.”

“Newly birthed. Sleep of stone.” His lady
mumbled half to herself. She jerked her head up and met his gaze. Her eyes
widened with each breath that hissed past her lips. She paled, her complexion
turning a waxy tint until he feared she was ill. Then she stood, and lifted her
head proudly, shoulders straight. Her coloring improved, if a vivid red was
better than a pallid shade. A foreboding expression settled over her face,
casting her features into harsh lines. She looked angry—yet not at him.

Baffled, he waited.

She brushed her hand along his mane and her
expression softened. “God. You’re just a child.”

“He doesn’t look like a child to me,” Kayla
said. “And that brings us back to the reason we are here.”

Lillian whirled on the other dryads, and
took a step toward Kayla. “I understood about a third of what he said, but I
did catch the part about his age. You do the math. He was born, found and
rescued me in less than a day, then came here and turned to stone only to wake
and rescue me again. He’s not even three days old.”

“You’re looking at it like a human,” Kayla
countered.

“No, I’m thinking like a non-perv. There’s
a difference.”

“No matter what you think, he
is
a
gargoyle. If you don’t believe me, ask him. Dryads normally gestate their girl
children within their trees for three years. But a ‘gargoyle child’ is longer,
closer to ten years. When they are finally born, they are mature, fully
developed.”

Gregory nodded. “I was almost mature at
birth. I finished maturing while in stone.”

“I don’t care, that’s not the same as life
experience.” Lillian transferred her scowl to him. “You’re still a child.”

“No more than you. We departed the Spirit
Realm together and were conceived within moments of each other.”

Lillian’s teeth clicked together and she
exhaled another hissing breath. “Fine,” she said, and patted his hand, her
voice calming. “But you still slept through childhood because you needed to
heal. You took injuries protecting me, and you lack the experiences you would
have learned during childhood and adolescence. Now it’s my turn to return a favor
or three. This
situation
with the dryads isn’t your concern. I’ll deal
with them. You are not duty-bound to . . . aid them.” Her lips twisted into a
fierce smile. She sent another glower in Kayla’s direction, then turned her
attention to Sable. “I’m not completely unreasonable to the plight of the
dryads. Your kind requires a gargoyle, and I gather there aren’t a whole lot of
them around. Fine, I can understand your concern. Desperation, even. You or
others of your kind can come back in ten years and make your case to the
gargoyle then.”

“Surely you jest,” Kayla said.

Lillian stood between him and the other
dryads with her hands fisted at her sides, her spine rigid. “I’m dead serious.”

The scent in the room changed to one of
challenge. His little dryad was protective of him. It was . . . endearing.
Gregory hastily swallowed a rumble of laughter. Sable coughed into her hand,
while Lillian’s grandmother rocked back and forth in her chair like nothing had
been said. Kayla exited the room with a stiff-legged gait while Lillian
followed the other dryad’s retreat with unblinking eyes.

“Well,” Vivian said into the silence. “Glad
we’ve aired that laundry. Now, where were we, Gregory? You were saying about
how you came to rescue Lillian.”

“Indeed.” His humor vanished with the
reminder that creatures of darkness were still abroad in this realm, creating
havoc and killing innocents. “I freed Lillian from the Lady of Battles’ imprisonment.”

“Who is that?” To judge by Lillian’s somber
tone, her earlier anger at the dryads was forgotten.

“The Lady of Battles is a creature of
extreme darkness. She wanted your power. I put a stop to her plans.” Gregory
winced at his evasion.
I hope
, he added silently.

“Go on.”

“She was not always evil. She once served
the Light as a…” Gregory paused, and then sorted through Lillian’s mind for the
proper word. “A prison warden created by the Divine Ones to keep evil in check.
As their daughter, the Lady of Battles had great power. For millennia, she
served the Divine Ones. She had a twin, the Lord of the Underworld. The Lady
also had a consort, the Shieldbearer. Although her consort was a god in his own
right, he lacked the power of the twins. Jealous of the power the Lord of the
Underworld commanded, the Shieldbearer attacked the Lady’s twin, intent on
taking that power for himself. The Lord of the Underworld saw the evil growing in
the Shieldbearer’s heart and deemed him incurable. And as his nature dictated, Lord
Death destroyed that evil the only way he knew how. He killed the Shieldbearer
and sent his soul back to the Divine Ones to heal.

“If he had realized what that one act would
bring about, the Lord of the Underworld would not have killed his twin’s mate.
The Lady of Battles went insane. She blamed her brother for her pain. And so
the war began. The Twins would have destroyed an entire world had the Divine
Ones not intervened. They punished both Twins by banishing them from the Spirit
Realm and chaining them to their respective temples within the Magic Realm.
Then in the greatest moment of upheaval the three Realms have ever seen, the
Divine Ones sundered them apart, separating the Realms with the creation of the
Veil. The chaos caused by the sundering forced many who lived in the
once-peaceful Magic Realm to flee for their lives. Some sought shelter with the
Lord of the Underworld, but a great many more fled to the Mortal Realm, far
from the influence of either Twin.

“But the Veil didn’t stop the Lady of
Battles. Even imprisoned she drew a great army to serve her, the very creatures
of darkness she was supposed to keep imprisoned. The Lord of the Underworld
gathered his own army. I, like all gargoyles, belong to him. For centuries, the
Lady has been growing her army, and not all her warriors served willingly. I
believe by capturing you, she planned to make me serve her.”

Lillian closed her eyes, her lashes a dark
line along her cheeks. She spoke without looking at him. “So . . . I was
captured by this battle goddess?”

“Yes.”

“And with your help I escaped to this realm
and the Riven followed us here? If I hadn’t gotten captured, none of this would
have happened. That makes this mess my fault. It’s up to me to make it right.
You said the Lady of Battles wanted my power. If I have power, it must be good
for something. What can I do to force the Riven back to their prison?”

“You claim responsibility that is not yours
to take. You were a child, innocent of any wrongdoing. Before you challenge the
Riven, you must first be trained in your magic.” Panic weighed heavy in
Gregory’s stomach. If she started to probe for her magic, there was no telling
what would happen.