Free Sorceress Awakening by Lisa Blackwood Page A

explain
everything tonight when she meets with your leaders for the gathering. That’s
all I can say for now,” her uncle said.
    Robert took a step closer to her uncle.
“You’ve got to give us more. We saw the unicorn. What has the Coven been up to?
Tell us now or the Hunt will appear at your doorstep some night not of your
choosing.”
    “Is that a threat?” Lillian’s uncle asked,
voice sharp with annoyance.
    Jackson put a restraining hand on his
grandson’s shoulder. “No, not a threat—a warning. One friend to another. We
don’t want to see anything happen to you or your family. But whatever the Hunt
decides, it’s out of our hands.”
    Her uncle’s shoulders relaxed. “Thank you.
Come, I’ll drive you back to your farm.”
    When the voices died away and the sound of
retreating footsteps faded, Lillian turned from the window and pressed her back
against the wall. The gargoyle—Gregory—stood looking down at her, his muzzle
pointed in her direction, his expression unreadable. She wondered what the Hunt
was—it didn’t sound good. But before she could voice her concerns, there was a
disturbance outside in the hall. It came a second time. Closer now, she could
make out the sounds—dishes rattling on a tray. Breakfast had come to her.
    Gregory advanced on the door with grim
interest just as it creaked open. Gran strolled in, and then shoved the door
shut with her hip. Gran eyed the disheveled bed with an arched eyebrow, and
then looked the gargoyle up and down as she detoured around him. When she
passed, she waved the two trays close to his muzzle and continued forward with
a knowing smile. The gargoyle padded after her, sniffing at the trays as he
came.
    “Did you sleep well?” Gran asked. Again the
eyebrow rose in question.
    “Yes, very well . . . considering a rather
large gargoyle was sharing the bed. Know anything about that?”
    Gran graced Lillian with a most innocent
look. “Yours is the biggest bed in the house.”
    “Ha! I knew it. You said you ordered the
wrong size for the resort and didn’t want to pay to ship it back.”
    “I couldn’t very well tell you it was for
your gargoyle, now could I?”
    Lillian huffed and turned to the gargoyle
and speared him with a look. “You’re not a dog—you don’t get to sleep in my
bed.”
    Gregory seemed more interested in what Gran
was carrying than in the conversation.
    Gran cleared her throat. “Anyways, I
imagine you both must be hungry, so I brought a little something to hold you
over until lunch. Eat, and then we’ll talk.”
    Lillian was about to tell her to talk now,
but the mingled scent of real maple syrup, pancakes, and sausages reached her
nose. She tracked the trays as avidly as did the gargoyle. Deciding she could
multitask, Lillian uncovered the first tray and snatched up one of the
sausages. She was taking the first bite when the gargoyle leaned in close and sniffed
at her food.
    “It’s not poisoned.” Too hungry to worry
about manners, she ate with her fingers. “Relax for five minutes.” She waved at
the bounty. “Eat.”
    He didn’t obey immediately, so she lifted a
second finger-length sausage off the tray and held it out to him. One moment he
was sniffing at it, then she blinked and it was gone. The only clue he hadn’t
used magic to make it vanish was the slight movement as he swallowed.
    Gran handed him his own plate and motioned
for him to eat. The gargoyle didn’t need more prompting, and folded a pancake
in half and shoved it in his mouth whole. A second vanished as fast as the
first one. Gran smiled and turned back to Lillian.
    “I know you have questions. I’ll tell you
all I know, and then we’ll see if we can get our new friend to tell us what he
knows.” Gran graced the gargoyle with a calculating smile. He stopped eating
long enough to bob his head in assent. She turned back to Lillian. “Good.
First, no matter what you learn here, I want you to know you are my
granddaughter in all ways that