Sorceress Awakening by Lisa Blackwood Page B

grandmother said.
She couldn’t accept everything now. It was too much. Later, when she was alone,
she’d replay this conversation in her head and maybe then it would make sense.
    Trapped in her memories, Gran continued
like she was unaware Lillian was there with her. “The first night he came to us
at the edge of the lake, he’d been injured, and his blood was splattered across
the grass and leaves. That magic-laced substance shimmered under the
moonlight—I remember seeing it, and in my state of shock I’d thought it
beautiful like the stars in a cold winter sky. The next morning, my senses
returned, and knowing the power locked in an immortal’s blood, I gathered up
all I could find and kept it safe.”
    The gargoyle stood, his sudden movement
interrupting Gran’s story. He made a short coughing bark as he glanced out the
window. His tail lashed, and his ears snapped forward. Someone was coming, judging
by his body language.
    Lillian eased off her bed and came up
behind the gargoyle. Her viewpoint was all wings, mane, and flicking tail. A
small thrill of gratitude flowed through her veins when he shifted a wing out of
the way and made room for her to stand next to him.
    Through the open window she heard a vehicle
coming up the lane. The boulevard trees blocked her line of sight and obscured
the vehicle until it turned up the main driveway. Her brother’s car came into
view.
    The gargoyle’s lips pulled back from his
muzzle. Jaws parted slightly and nostrils quivering, he sniffed at the air. She
touched his arm—and his thoughts came to her. No, not sniffing the air—tasting
it to search for magic.
    “Ah, the Sisterhood has arrived.” Gran
said. “I sent Jason to pick them up from the airport.”
    “The other dryads?”
    “Yes. They’re the closest biological family
you have in this world, but don’t be fooled for a moment. They are a dying race
and have an agenda of their own. They saved your life, but I think they did it
more to curry favor with the gargoyle than out of actual concern for you.”
    “You think they’re dangerous.” Lillian
meant it as a statement but Gran answered anyway.
    “No,” Gran said, then paused as if
selecting her words with care. “I don’t mean to poison you against them. They
serve the Light, not the Shadow, but they are not human. They don’t think like
us. And as much as you’re biologically like them, you were raised as a human,
with a human’s view of the world and our moral concepts ingrained in you from a
young age. You may not like what they have come seeking.”
    “Well, if you’re sure they’re not evil, I
can tolerant whatever else they might be after for the sake of peace. By the
sound of it, our biggest problem is with the Riven.”
    “Yes, I’m certain. Do you think your
gargoyle would stand there watching them if they were?”
    “No,” Lillian replied with a glance at the
gargoyle. He was now silent, unmoving. Only his eyes showed any life in them.
They glittered like black ice, a predator’s stare directed down at the women
exiting the car.
    All three strangers had the tall thin grace
of swans. Each wore a sleek, elegant dress, had smooth, waist-length hair, and
long legs that ended in delicate, old-fashioned slippers. “That’s so not fair.
I thought you said these women were the same species as me. I fail to see the
resemblance.” Apparently, not all dryads were so lucky as to get the chic gene.
Instead, nature had given her the curvy, but slightly plump gene.
    “Oh, they’re just half-starved. Their trees
didn’t have the nutrition of nice gargoyle blood to make them big and strong.”
Gran chuckled. “Don’t worry, dear. They’d blow over in a storm. Do you still
regret you’re not like them?”
    “If you put it that way, no, not really.”
    “Well, we can’t hide up here all afternoon.
Shall we introduce you and your gargoyle to the dryads?”
    “Sure.” Lillian couldn’t muster much
enthusiasm. She didn’t want to meet