Sorceress Rising (A Gargoyle and Sorceress Tale Book 2) (10 page)

Lillian thumbed
off the phone and tossed it to the opposite end of the couch with a practiced
accuracy as she finished scrawling contact information on her notepad. “The
fairgrounds are booked, and the call just before that one was the jousters
confirming they can do the three day midweek appointment. They can’t manage the
weekend, they’re already booked for another fair. The hall just called back to
say we can have it for Saturday after all, so the medieval banquet has a
location.”

“Told you not to
worry.” Gran didn’t look up from where she sat at the desk, leaning over her
keyboard typing.

“It really was a
miracle getting the hall last minute. There had been a wedding booked but the
bride just contracted chicken pox. Poor thing, guess she never had them as a
child. But the timing.” Lillian groaned in sympathy for the unknown woman.

“She’ll
recover.”

Lillian stopped
sorting papers and glanced up at Gran with growing suspicion. After staring a
hole in the back of Gran’s bent head didn’t elicit a response, Lillian tried a polite
tack. “Pardon?”

 “Yes, dear?”

“Tell me you
didn’t somehow give the poor woman chicken pox.”

“Me directly,
no.”

Lillian was just
drawing breath when the phone rang again. She huffed, aimed a glare at the
cordless and then a second at Gran for good measure, before snatching up the
phone. Her ‘hello’ had a bit more force than intended.

****

Lillian thumbed
the ‘off’ button hard enough to make the plastic and rubber creak and then
heaved it at the end of the couch, where it bounced before coming to rest
precariously close to the edge. She pinched the bridge of her nose and rubbed
at her eyes in a futile attempt to sooth away the deep-seated, ever-present
throb of a headache.

She never did
get back to the conversation about the woman with the chicken pox. In the four
days since she’d come up with what she now thought of as the ‘moment of
insanity’ plan, she’d thought about nothing but the masquerade, arranging,
verifying, and playing phone tag for what seemed like weeks. If she ever wanted
to start a career along the lines of a wedding planner, she imagined she now
had enough experience to add a line to her resume. She glanced around the
living room, hoping for a distraction from all the notes scattered across the
coffee table, all of which still required a follow up phone call. But she didn’t
see a single soul.

In point of
fact, she hadn’t talked to anyone face-to-face in hours, and today’s four plus
hours talking on the phone after a quick lunch didn’t count as basic human
contact. She hadn’t seen much of Gregory the last few days either. Needs had
them keeping opposite hours. Gregory and the other Fae did most of their spell
work at night, using the cover of darkness to help shroud their work. Lillian,
Gran, and several other members of the Coven worked in the daylight hours
fielding phone calls and whatever else needed doing during the day.

Come each dawn,
Lillian would get up, pack a hardy breakfast and seek out Gregory. When she
found him, she ached at seeing firsthand the steep toll it cost him and the
other Fae to cast great works of magic in this magic-less realm. She would
curse fate silently for the set of circumstances that prevented her from
helping Gregory in his monumental task.

Gregory and the
other Fae metalsmiths were usually putting finishing touches on the newest
batch of spelled weapons when she arrived with breakfast. Yesterday morning
Gregory had been too exhausted to eat, his complexion a paler grey than his
usual lustrous ebony tones. A caress of fingertips along his shoulders proved
the greyish tone was in fact his skin starting to turn to stone.

He’d seemed undaunted,
and simply nuzzled her in greeting and then leaned some of his weight on her as
they walked back to the center of her maze. Once there, he had hoisted himself
up onto his pedestal and turned to stone before her eyes.

While Gregory
seemed unconcerned for himself, Lillian worried on his behalf. This morning
when she’d went to bring him breakfast, it was to find he’d finished early. A
quick search found him already turned to stone on his pedestal. She’s sat on his
stone knee and ate a tasteless breakfast she could barely choke down as a
maelstrom of worry, regret, and loneliness churned through her core.

Yet another day
of phone calls and errands helped her focus on other things, but it did not
banish the worry and fear. And suppressing those emotions was stirring up other
problems—like a migraine great enough to shatter her skull. She closed her eyes
and staggered to her feet, no plan beyond ‘escape’ foremost in her mind.

She succeeded in
navigating her way to the kitchen and was almost to the back door and freedom
when the phone rang again. Anger coiled in her gut and she growled, her eyes
honing in on the wall phone where its red light blinked out a rapid annoying
pattern. She stalked across the floor and swiped at the phone with one hand,
swatting it with enough force to disconnect it from the wall.

Lillian was
rewarded by lovely blessed silence. She curled her lip at the phone and spun
back around to the door. The freedom of nature and the dark endless forest called
to her. Her focus was all on that goal, or she might have acknowledged the
sound of footsteps and the door between the living room and kitchen swinging
open.

“Hey, Lillian,
wait,” her brother called from behind. “Did you ever hear back from the….whoa!
What happened to the phone? You could have simply said you were taking a break,
rather than giving the phone a makeover.”

 Lillian whirled
on her brother, not in the mood for his brand of humor.

“It annoyed me.”
Her voice came out rich, and low, almost a raspy growl, nothing like her own.
She fought past the pounding in her head to try to make sense of it, but the
need to be outside was more pressing.

Her brother
blanched and stepped back, forcing Gran, who was a step behind him, back as
well. His move, which was clearly protective, sparked a touch of lucid reason
in Lillian’s mind. Her brother was afraid. Of her? Why?

Lillian blinked
and shook her head, but it did nothing for the pounding in her head or the
ringing in her ears. Was she going to pass out? No, her body itched and burned,
it wasn’t the tingle of encroaching faintness.

Gran pushed at
Lillian’s brother, finally forcing him out of the way. She eased past him and
stopped a short distance from Lillian. “Darling, you need to listen to me.
You’re not in danger, and I won’t keep you long, but you need to answer a
couple quick questions.”

Lillian jerked
her head in acknowledgement of Gran’s words. It was all she was able to do as
instincts reared up within her and clamored for her attention, to run free, to
slide from shadow to shadow as she hunted for prey in the forest. A hunger
burned in her belly, making thought harder.

“How long has it
been since you and Gregory have had time to spend together?”

“Days,” Lillian
growled out, not sure if it was completely true, but it felt like longer.

“I know Gregory
has been sleeping in stone to recover faster. Did you see him yet today?”

“Yes,” she bit
out and turned from Gran, taking a long stride to the back door.

“Lillian?”

She shook her
head and gathered her thoughts. Gran wanted to know something else. It was
important. She sighed. “Gregory was stone.”

“So he didn’t
actually see you today?”

“No,” she
snapped. “Isn’t that what I just said?”

Gran placed a
gentle hand on her shoulder. The slight pressure was uncomfortable, her skin
overly sensitive. Lillian was tempted to swat at it, but remembered what she’d
done to the phone and held back. Something was wrong.

“Lillian, you
need to go seek out Gregory now. It’s very important.”

“Why?”

“If I had a
mirror, you wouldn’t need to ask.” Gran actually laughed. “You’re going
gargoyle on us. Go to Gregory. He’ll know what to do.”

“He’s sleeping.”

“He’ll wake for
you. He’ll feel your need.”

She did miss
him. They could hunt together. Or perhaps he would hunt for her. The wildness
in her blood changed focus. Gregory sounded more appealing than a few trees.
She had the strangest urge to purr.

****

She navigated
the familiar labyrinth with ease, its cedar scent wrapping around her senses,
soothing some of the wildness in her blood. Not much. But sufficient to reach
the maze’s center with a relatively clear mind.

With a groan,
she dropped to her knees in front of Gregory and bowed her head, pressing her
forehead against cold stone as she fought for control. She wrapped the fingers
of one hand around the tip of his tail. The stone was cool to the touch, but
already growing warmer.

“Gregory,” she
whispered.

“Beloved?” His
tail twitched under her fingers as stone gave way to flesh.

“Help me.”

Alarm hummed through
him even before he was fully awake. It was not danger which woke him, but
Lillian’s distress. He inhaled a deep breath and snorted with understanding
when her mixed dryad and gargoyle scent hit him full force. It was a lovely
scent. One his brain was happy to bask in for a moment more than he knew he
should. It also explained her distress.

He opened his
eyes and gazed down. She knelt with her head bowed and pressed against his
pedestal. No wings. No tail. Still mostly dryad. She hadn’t been caught in a
painful mid-shift. Not yet at least.

“Lillian.” He
touched her shoulder, closing his claws with a gentle pressure to get her
attention. “Beloved, look at me now. You have to fight the shift for a little
while longer.”

She jerked as if
his tender urging was the harshest command. But she did as he asked. She looked
up at him and he was relieved to see she was only mildly changed. They still
had time to get to the safety of the forest. Though not much, judging by the
way her dark irises had expanded until no whites showed in her pain filled
eyes. Her ears had already elongated into points only partially hidden in her
hair. She hissed in pain and her black talon tipped fingers dug into his calf
muscle. As he watched, small black horns erupted from her forehead, just under
the hair line.

Gregory loosened
her hold on his leg and transferred it to his hand, then jumped down to stand
beside her. His wings mantled over her protectively. “My love, I must get you
to the forest where we can hide while you learn control. Can you stand?”

She didn’t
respond verbally, but gave a quick, jerking nod. Moaning in pain, Lillian
forced herself to her feet.

“This way.” He
urged her in the direction he wanted her to go and she didn’t fight him.
However she only made it a dozen steps before she grasped her head and sank
back to her knees.

“It hurts. Why
does it hurt so much?”

“Because you’re
fighting the change.” He gathered her up in his arms and then called his magic
to hide them both.

“You told me to
fight the shift.” Her words came out with a bite of accusation.

“Yes, I did.
Hold on just a little while longer. I’ll get you to the forest, then you can
shift where no one will see or hear.”

“Can’t you just
hide me from view? You’re doing it now. I can feel it.”

Gregory broke
into a run. “Your hamadryad is feeding you magic. You may lose control when you
shift.”

“I thought you
said I couldn’t touch my magic.”

“You’re not
taking, she’s giving.”

“Wonderful,”
Lillian growled. “What about the demon seed? Are we in danger from that little
monster again?”

“No.”

“Small mercies.
I feel drunk.” Lillian laughed, a sound more of pain than pleasure. “Now, if
fate will continue with this rare streak of kindness, we might avoid any
military patrols too.”

The forest was
still too far away for Gregory’s peace, but at least she was lucid again. As
for the human warriors, if they had the misfortune to interfere when Lillian
needed him….

A low rumble of
threat escaped him.

“Mmm, you have
the sexiest growl.” Lillian purred the words as she leaned into him. With her
cradled in his arms, her head naturally rested against his shoulder and she
rubbed her cheek against his bare skin. Her lips started nibbling on him. He
stumbled when her tongue followed the track her lips had just been over. “You
taste as good as you smell.”

“Lillian!” he
rumbled in mild complaint. He didn’t need the distraction at the moment.
Though, he realized almost in the same instant that physical closeness must
help Lillian in some way, for she couldn’t have been in as much pain, not if she
could be distracted by other instincts.

“Sorry. I told
you I feel drunk. Or maybe high on endorphins with the pain receding.” She let
her head lull to the side and her eyes closed as she drew another deep breath.
A small smile played at the corner of her lips. His eyes narrowed in thought.
Perhaps he could use her attraction to him in some way to aid her through the
painful first few shifts.

She made a soft
humming sound. “You really are so beautifully male. You can’t blame a girl for
wanting to touch such muscular perfection.”

Gregory scanned
his surroundings as he ran. The forest was within a few dozen paces. Safety for
Lillian only a few strides distant. When he was under the shade of the first
trees, he continued deeper without slowing. There was no time to find an ideal
spot for Lillian to shape shift and then rest afterward. He’d just have to
settle for moderately safe at best.

“Hold on,
Lillian. We’re almost there. Just a few moments more.”

Lillian laughed.
It was a sound of pure female delight. “Take your time. Just having you close
helps.

Gregory look
down upon her and he swore he felt his heart quake with strong emotion. There
was lust, certainly, but also a healthy dose of pure love mixed in. There was
no denying he wanted her.

And presently,
she was making it known she wanted him too. Her warm fingers slid back and
forth along the ridge of his collar bone. As much as he’d like to explore like
they had six nights ago, Lillian’s need to control her gargoyle side was more
pressing.

He went a little
deeper into the forest, until they came upon an area of dense undergrowth. A
thick carpet of ferns blanketed the ground. It wasn’t an ideal ‘nest’ but it
would have to do.

Guilt twisted in
his gut. He should have monitored Lillian more closely for the signs her
gargoyle nature was rising again.
Oh, whom am I trying to fool? I should
have taught her how to master her gargoyle side when it first became apparent
she still retained it.

“Hey, I can
practically taste your guilt, it’s so strong.”

Gregory jerked at
the sound of Lillian’s voice and found she was intently studying him.

“It’s not your
fault you know. Don’t feel guilty over something out of your control.” She
sighed and wiggled in his arms. “You can put me down now. My body isn’t trying
to tear itself apart at the moment.”

Gregory did as
she asked, though left a supporting arm around her shoulders, likely more for
his own comfort than anything she needed, he suspected. “It is my fault.”

Lillian turned
slightly so she was facing him. “How so?”

“I should have
made time to train you, to show you how to shape shift, control your gargoyle
magic, and to use your wings. But I didn’t. I was afraid.” Her eyes widened at
his admission, but he continued before she could interrupt. “I feared, still do
fear, that I lack the willpower to resist you.”

Lillian
chuckled. “Thanks for the vote of confidence and for making me sound like some
kind of super tramp.” She waved him to silence. “I know after the first and
only time I became a gargoyle, the title Super Tramp might have been fitting,”
she cleared her throat with nervous embarrassment, “but it was one hundred
percent the demon’s influence. I wasn’t really ‘home’ then.”

“I know, but
it’s not…”

“I refuse to
believe I’ll become some raging hormone-filled beast, unable to control myself,
just because I’m the first female gargoyle.”

“It’s not…”

“I won’t become
some mindless beast. At least I hope I…”

“Lillian!” he
shouted her name.

She froze
mid-sentence, and he continued in a quieter tone. “It’s me I don’t trust.”

Rocking back on
her heels, she looked up at him, her expression morphing from shock to
understanding before finally settling on sympathy. In a hasty, awkward move she
launched herself at him and wrapped her arms around as much of him as she could
manage. She mumbled words into his shoulder. They went on for a time. He didn’t
understand one word, but he didn’t have to. Just having her hug him was a
comfort.

Finally she
added, “You don’t have a clue what I just said, do you?”

“No,” Gregory
admitted, “but you’re very good at non-verbal communication. I think I have an
idea.”

“Well, just so
we’re clear. We’re a team. From here on, we back each other up. Remember the
‘no lies, no secrets’ conversation?’ Yeah, you know the one. Team members also
help each other during difficult times. I might not have the powers of an
Avatar, but I’m pretty sure I can drudge up enough willpower to remind you of
your ‘duty’. Besides, I’ve got a good memory. I still remember the getting
pregnant equals a bounty on our heads, equals the Lord of the Underworld
sniffing on our trail, equals death thing. And he sounds like one scary dude.
‘Nuff said.”

He held his
silence throughout Lillian’s impassioned speech.

“You can trust
me to not fail in this one task. Have I failed in anything I’ve set out to do
since you met me?” Lillian drew in a hasty breath, not giving him a chance to
respond. “Okay, so some of my plans have been a touch unorthodox, but I haven’t
failed. I won’t fail or betray your trust.”

Gregory returned
her solemn gaze, as he weighed her words, giving them the credence they
deserved, but felt his ears betray him and twitch to half-mast in doubt of her
ability.

Her endearing,
hopeful expression fell, transforming into one of displeasure. “Oh, as if
you’re perfect.”

“No, as I believe
is the root of the conversation. I don’t trust myself.”

“I…Oh! For
pity’s sake.” Lillian huffed, fisted her hands and then stormed over to the
nearest tree and planted her back against it. “Well, my great and wise Gargoyle
Protector, I’m going to shift into a female of the species very shortly, so if
you think I can do better on my own or under the guidance of one of the other
Fae, by all means, let me know and I’ll just go seek them out.”

Gregory covered
the distance in two strides and towered over her. He stepped closer until they
were chest to chest. “I didn’t say I distrusted you. I said I didn’t trust
myself. Are you so sure you could turn away my advances? Do you want to put it
to a test?”

“Oh, why the
hell are we fighting? I’m going to shift into a female gargoyle whether I want
to or not. Thanks to the Lady of Battles’ manipulation, there’s no stopping it.
Secondly, you’re the best candidate to teach me how to be a gargoyle.”

“I know.”
Gregory pressed their foreheads together. She spoke the truth, he just didn’t
want it to be the truth.

She patted him
on the shoulder as if to reassure him. “No more stalling or arguing. Let’s just
get this over with.”