Sorceress Hunting (A Gargoyle and Sorceress Tale Book 3) (4 page)

With a strangled hiss of pain, the human blinked her
eyes back open and she gasped. He used the opportunity to press his bleeding
wrist to her lips. She choked and sputtered at first, trying to spit out his
blood, but he simply pressed his wrist harder against her lips.

“Drink, it’s your only chance at life, and even then,
a slim one.”

The human’s wide-eyed stare didn’t change at first,
but after a moment his words must have sunk in because she nodded and forced
herself to swallow.

Her fingers wrapped around his forearm with a
desperate strength as the muscles along her neck tensed and flexed as she
fought past her natural gag reflex. The hard-fought battle drained away the
last of her strength, and her fingers loosened their grip, but her iron will
won the fight, conquering her aversion to his blood. Though by her deep grimace
and the occasional muffled gag, she didn’t like it. To be honest, he took no
joy in the act either. It simply hurt.

She jerked her head to the side.

“Enough.” She held up a hand, which trembled with near
violence. “If you force me to drink more, I swear, I’ll throw up all over you.”

Shadowlight didn’t know how much blood was required,
but took her at her word and instead held his wrist over her bite marks again.

“Dammit, that hurts!”

He nodded. “It’s working then.”

“Fuck. You don’t say!” She curled into a fetal
position and buried her face in her forearms. It did little to muffle her pain
sounds.

“There is no one else near,” he offered helpfully.
“You can scream if you want.”

“Good to know,” she gasped and shuddered. “Might take
you up on your offer later.”

“Or I can knock you unconscious, though it might be
better if you remain alert enough to tell me how you feel.” He paused and
lapped at his bleeding wrist so his saliva would aid in healing the small
wound. After a brief internal debate, he decided to tell her the truth. “I’ve
never done a blood exchange or healing before. I’m too young and have never had
the chance. Although, I know how it is done.”

She looked up, her expression etched with pain, her
brown skin sweat-covered and taking on an ashen, greyish tint. “Seriously?”

If she would have said more, it was stolen by a
convulsion wracking her body.

He sat next to her and then gathered her up against
his side so she wouldn’t beat herself black and blue against the tree’s gnarled
old roots. The Riven taint was putting up a good fight, but he sensed his blood
was winning. Soon, there would be nowhere in her body it could hide.

“Distract me,” she managed after the first wave of
convulsions past. “Young. How young?”

He didn’t see any point in lying. The truth couldn’t
harm her.

Besides, he wanted to make friends. The few Fae he’d
interacted with treated him with the greatest respect, but were aloof and cold.
Well, perhaps not Greenborrow. The leshii seem genuinely interested in offering
friendship. Something about this human’s boldness and quick mouth reminded him
of the leshii.

“I’m eight.”

“Eight?” She eyed him from the tips of his horns all
the way down to where his talons dug into the soft loam. “Eight what? Eight
years?!”

He stopped lapping at his wrist. “Yes.”

“Are you fully grown?”

“No.”

“Lord,” she choked. “If you’re a child of your kind, I
don’t want to meet any adults.”

“My father is only a little taller. Hmmm…it’s probably
best if you don’t meet him just yet.”

Shadowlight decided his parents probably wouldn’t be
happy about what he’d done.

Perhaps not Lillian or Gregory either. Gran? She
seemed the most open. Maybe he could confide in her once the human was healed.
Yes, that sounded like a good idea.

Decision made, he looked back down at the human. She
was unconscious again, but she breathed. A quick survey of her wounds showed
they were still grievous. However, he thought she might live.

For now, he would have to find a place to hide her
from the other Fae. Once she was healed, there wasn’t anything the others could
do. They’d eventually see the good in her.

They wouldn’t harm another of Light’s warriors, after
all.

With a happy snort, he scooped up the human and headed
back toward home. After he stashed the human somewhere safe and wove a spell of
protection, he’d find Greenborrow as his father had ordered. Later, when no one
would miss him, he’d come back and tend to the human’s wounds and then find a
more permanent place to stash her.

“Come on,” Lillian held out what she called a polo
shirt and gave it a forceful shake. “Put. The. Shirt. On. Now. They’re almost
here.”

Gregory stood across from her and returned her frown.
It wasn’t actually cold, even though a rain shower had moved in while they
discussed plans.

Lillian worried and fretted he wouldn’t be dressed in
time before the humans arrived. He scrounged for what the healers were called,
something uniquely complicated only they would come up with. Oh, yes, Medical
Technicians. He still couldn’t get particularly worked up about humans.
Besides, he was now in human form, dressed in human fashion—which he hated. It
was a passably warm day, even with the rain shower. He saw no reason to wear
the unnecessary layer the shirt represented. Even his fragile human hide could
maintain enough heat without it.

“Do I have to get Gran in here?” Lillian asked, one
fist planting itself against her hip, while the other one held the shirt in a
white-knuckled grip.

Gregory huffed, finding the situation humorous. He
stepped up to Lillian, closed one hand around the shirt, and the other around
the back of her head and pressed their lips together.

Being in human form had some benefits. He deepened the
kiss and was rewarded by Lillian softening into his touch. She relaxed against
him. Both hands came up to caress the muscles of his chest, the shirt long
forgotten. He debated dropping it on the floor to free his other hand to roam.
Unfortunately, his ears picked up the sound of a sharp rapping at the front
door.

A pity, he would have liked to have seen where the
kissing would have led. He liked the new relationship he’d been building with
his Sorceress. Alas, the humans were at the gates, and he needed to be on his
best behavior. He’d promised, after all.

He broke the kiss, and Lillian made a little sound of
protest. Giving her a lazy grin and a quick peck on the cheek, he said, “That’s
the going rate for me to play at human and suffering the full human regalia
that goes with it.”

Gregory admitted a touch sheepishly he liked using a
few of the human terms—they needed so little added explanation. Lillian didn’t
seem to see the humor and huffed like a quail disturbed from its daytime roost.

“Now…”

“Is not the time to argue,” he said and pulled the
shirt over his head. “The humans are at the front door and impatient to get in
if that’s what the repeated, heavy-handed pounding means.

Lillian grumbled something less than delicate under
her breath, and then grabbed his hand and tugged him toward the door.

“Do you remember the details of your cover story if
someone attempts small talk?” Lillian asked as she started down the stairs.

“Every word.”

Gregory allowed himself to be steered toward the big
armchair and then be pushed down into it. A moment later a cup of something hot
was shoved in one hand and a couple cookies in the other. The television was
still on, and the coffee table was loaded with food and what Lillian called a
board game.

Gran had clearly engineered the scene to look as
natural as possible.

Gregory ate the cookies and reached for the nearest
plate with his favorite type—the ones with the warm, chewy dark substance
called chocolate. It was regrettable they were entirely bad for one’s body. He
scooped up another handful. If he was going to sit through this episode, which
involved willingly shedding blood for one’s enemy, he’d take his reward first.

Gran walked past him on her way to the front door,
still wearing an apron coated with a fine layer of flour from all her baking
efforts, and seemingly unconcerned with the newcomers’ arrival. Lillian, on the
other hand, was fussing nervously with plates, saucers, and teacups.

While the door swung inward, Gregory studied Lillian’s
expression and body language—which was supposed to reflect mild surprise, but
was in fact so false anyone who looked upon her would surely become suspicious.
He reached out and slung an arm around her waist and dragged her into his lap.

Her yelp of surprise sounded far more genuine than any
act.

He took a sip from his mug and nearly spat it back
out. Black coffee, hot enough to burn three layers of skin off the roof of his
mouth. With a deep grimace, he forced himself to swallow the offensive liquid
while he glanced toward the door with natural curiosity. A Medical Technician
and three other soldiers stomped through the front entrance.

Gran dusted the flour off her hands and held one out
in greeting, but the human in the lead merely looked for a place to set down
his equipment.

One of the other soldiers, not one Gregory had seen
before, addressed Gran. “I assume you’ve been keeping up with the news, and
know about giving samples for testing. It’s voluntary, but we strongly suggest
everyone get tested to rule out possible health complications.”

Gran gestured the newcomer in further and closed the
door. “By all means. Anything we can do to help. Although, I have to say I’m confused
by one thing. Wouldn’t it make more sense to have people report to a hospital
if they start to feel sick?”

The Medical Technician spoke up, his response sounding
like something he’d already read several times in the last hour. “If there is
any chance of illness, we want to quarantine it early to stop any possible
spread.”

Yet, here they were without protective equipment.

“Ah, that’s the first bit of wisdom I’ve heard since
all this began.” Gran smiled as she rolled up her shirt sleeves until she’d exposed
a good bit of her forearm.

Gregory watched, a touch curious, as the human sat on
a chair next to the one Gran had dropped down on.

The procedure was over quickly though he didn’t think
Gran liked to see the small vial sticking out of her arm. She’d gone a little
pale and looked away. Once it was over, and she was holding a small bit of
cotton to the tiny injury, she looked up and met Gregory’s eyes with a little
shudder. “I hate needles. Never could stand the sight of my own blood.”

Jason, and then Alan took their turns in the chair,
and the procedure was repeated twice more, just as painlessly. Lillian
struggled out of his lap, and he let her take the chair next. He stood a moment
later and made his way over to her side, attempting to appear bored and
unconcerned. And he was—about giving blood. But he didn’t have to like how the
human soldier in charge wandered over to hover at Lillian’s shoulder. This
wasn’t random male interest in a pretty female.

Gregory smiled. Clever humans. This one was hoping his
mere presence would cause Lillian’s family to make a mistake. He also gathered
from this one’s mind there were others nearby with some kind of device, which
allowed them to see and hear what was going on within. He squelched the urge to
wave at them in the human way, just to see how they would react.

“Your turn,” Lillian said in a falsely cheery voice.
Gregory grunted and sat down. He exposed his arm like he’d seen the others do.
There was a poke and then he caught a faint whiff of his magic-laced blood. Had
he been in gargoyle form, the tiny blood drawing device would not even have
penetrated his skin.

This had to be the first time in all his existence
he’d allowed an enemy to claim first blood without a fight.

Ah. The Mortal Realm offered him new delights every
day. He was turning towards the medical person to see if he could intimidate
him out of annoyance and sheer boredom when a sharp knock sounded at the door.

Gran was already halfway there by the time Gregory
transferred his attention from the Medical Technician to the door. He stretched
his senses outward, and already had the newest arrival identified before he’d
even entered.

Gran opened the door, and Major Resnick stepped in, a
greeting already on his lips.

“Vivian, always nice to see you,” he shook her hand
and then stepped around her after a moment and made straight for Lillian.

The human at Gregory’s elbow removed the needle and
put a small bit of cotton and a tiny bandage over the site. Gregory managed not
to sneer. Ha, as if the tiny wound hadn’t already healed as soon as the metal
was removed from his arm.

“Lillian, good to see you again,” Resnick continued in
his disarming small talk. “I take it the equine escape artists haven’t run off
into the woods lately?”

Eyes narrowing, Gregory studied the human warrior.
Something was off. Resnick was a capable, astute leader. The type to take in a
situation, study it from different angles, and then come to a tactical
decision. Sociable, he was not. He’d probably prefer to take a bullet rather
than make small talk.

Lillian frowned and then gave a truthful, “I hope not.
If they have, I’m sure they’ll be found.”

“Always glad to help.” Resnick turned his attention
fully to Gregory. “And you must be Lillian’s mysterious fiancé, which no one in
town has met.”

Gregory straightened from the chair and towered over
the other humans in the room.

Even in human form, he didn’t see the need to cram
himself down into a smaller form than absolutely required. Of course, magic and
shapeshifting didn’t have size limits. However, Gregory was just more
comfortable seeing things from a certain vantage point. Making Major Resnick
crane his head to look him in the eyes…that was an added benefit. Rather
juvenile, but mildly rewarding all the same.

“Name’s Gregory,” he mimicked what he’d seen on
television and held out his hand to the human, “Nice to meet you, Major.
Lillian told me about your meeting in the woods.”

“Ah, as I told her, I’m always glad to be a help.
Besides, it was nice meeting another of Vivian’s delightful clan.”

Gregory chuckled at the human’s far from subtle
inquiry. He stared down at the human, allowing a touch of challenge and his
millenniums-old gargoyle nature to rouse and show in his eyes.

To the human’s credit, he held his gaze and returned
Gregory’s unvoiced challenge.

Gran came up to them before anything more interesting
developed.

“Major Resnick, can I interest you and your friends in
some refreshments? There’s a pot of coffee in the kitchen and the cookies are
still warm.”

A couple of the humans showed mild interest, but
Resnick merely shook his head.

“Another time, we still have several stops to make.”
He gave Gran a smile which held a hint of true warmth before glancing back at
Gregory. “Don’t worry. As soon as everything settles, I’m sure I’ll find a reason
to stop by.”

With that less than subtle remark, Resnick, followed
by his men, departed without so much as a goodbye or a glance behind. Then
again, they hadn’t come to exchange human niceties.

Curiously, Lillian had grabbed a pen and pad of paper
off the end table and was furiously scrawling some message.

When she was finished, she tore off the top sheet and
slapped it to his chest and began again.

He read her messy writing. Way to blend in! Ever heard
of the word subtle? It’s a concept you really need to work on.

A grin stretched across Gregory’s lips.

Gran folded her arms under her breasts and directed a
deep frown at him, and then jerked her chin in the direction of the kitchen.

Ah, he was about to get an ear full from more than one
female. Lovely. Only in the Mortal Realm would other beings see fit to scold
him.

He followed Gran and Lillian into the kitchen and then
down the stairs to the basement. They continued past the wine cellar and on
into the secret rooms and tunnels where the magic-forged weapons were being
stored.

Their presence reminded him that he would need to
solve this human dilemma quickly so the Clan and Coven could continue with the
preparations for war with the Lady of Battles.

“It’s safe to talk,” Gran said when Lillian motioned
at her own lips in question.

“Good, because we need to be ready to move. They
aren’t going to waste time getting the blood analyzed.”

Gran nodded her head at Lillian’s words. “Exactly
right. Gregory, your magic allows you to hide, but your ability to shapeshift
might be more useful to us at this point.”

“You wish to change our plans?” Gregory, still in
human form, quirked an eyebrow and rather enjoyed the novelty. “What did you
have in mind?”

“I think it would be safer to swap out our samples
while they are still in route. Certainly, easier than trying to get inside the
military’s HQ afterward. If you can impersonate one of those Medical
Technicians, you might be able to switch the samples with no one the wiser.
Unlike one of the other coven members, if you’re caught, you can extract
yourself far more quickly and easily. Though dear, try not to vanish before
their very eyes. That’s likely to do more harm than good.”

Lillian’s brother and uncle came in carrying a box
which looked exactly like the type the humans had put the blood samples in.

He didn’t smell a hint of magic upon it, so they or
another Coven member had done what Lillian would have called a little ‘sleight
of hand.’ Gregory smiled. He’d always been fond of efficiency.