Sorceress Rising (A Gargoyle and Sorceress Tale Book 2) by Lisa Blackwood Page A

little disconcerting having a nearly naked human man in her bedroom.
On one hand, she knew it was Gregory, and yet on the other, she could see very
little of her guardian in this tall, swarthy-skinned man with his brown eyes,
dark hair, and serious expression. Somehow, this felt different than when
Gregory wandered around half-naked in gargoyle form. Maybe it was because her
eyes kept telling her she was standing across from a stranger she’d only laid
eyes on a couple times before.
    She held out a
pair of black jeans, then gave them a little wiggle when he didn’t take the
bait.
    “Oh, come
on—you’re worse than a two-year-old. They’re just jeans, not a viper about to
bite you.”
    He frowned at
her tone, but stepped forward and snatched them out of her hand. “I thought the
worst thing about the Mortal Realm was its lack of magic,” he jerked on the
pants, though was cautious about doing up the zipper, “but I was wrong. There
is one thing worse—it’s fashion. Humans wear so many layers even their clothing
has clothing. It snags, it rubs, it bites, it pinches…”
    It seemed her
gargoyle needed a little incentive.
    Lillian
stretched up and pressed a quick kiss to his lips. “If you wear the clothing
today, I’ll help you out of them tonight.” His lips parted and his eyes widened
ever so slightly. Secretly, she was pleased she could still surprise him. The
kiss had the added benefit of stilling his tirade.
    “I’ll play at
being human—but I only do it for you.” Gregory held out his hand for the
T-shirt she still held. “Though, you are welcome to kiss me whenever you want
if you think it will make me more malleable to your diabolical plans.”
    A pearl of
laughter escape her. “You’re such a terrible actor—though I like your sulk.
It’s cute.” And she also liked this new playful side of Gregory; seeing him
happy warmed her heart, and she wanted to do whatever was required to keep him
happy.
    He pretended to
sulk at her words—but his expression was so off, she laughed even harder.
“Enough, you great ham. We have a Fae council to pacify and a large military
problem to resolve.”
    Gregory sobered
and nodded.
    Lillian held the
door and motioned him forward, wanting to make sure he didn’t try to ditch some
of the clothing on his way down. When Gregory frowned at her, she knew she had
hit on the correct plan.
    With a huff, he
stomped past, still pulling at his T-shirt and the waist of his jeans as if
trying to make them more comfortable. Halfway down the stairs, he gave up and
fisted his hands at his side.
    When they
reached the bottom, Lillian could hear the voices drifting from the kitchen. By
the sound of it, the council meeting was already underway. Gregory shoved the
kitchen door hard enough to make it groan in complaint. If there had been
anyone on the other side, they’d have been laid out by the blow.
    “The door’s not
to blame for you having to wear clothing,” Lillian stated under her breath.
    Gregory stopped,
turned swiftly and smiled what could only be called a devilishly handsome grin.
“Keep it up and I’m going to revert to my true form, march over to the human
military compound, and strut naked past Major Resnick. Twice. In case he misses
it the first time.”
    “That’s sure to
stir the hornet’s nest.” A great gruff hoot was followed by a hand slapping a
thigh. “If you do, make sure to let me know in advance. I want to be there to
witness it.”
    Gregory grinned
and nodded to the stranger. Lillian froze, her mind trying to place where she’d
seen the older man before. He was familiar but she didn’t know from where. Or
why he was in Gran’s kitchen. He was dressed in faded and patched jeans, an old
flannel shirt, and his feet were encased in rubber boots. Upon first glance,
Lillian might have taken him as a farmer.
    But she could
‘feel’ the power hidden inside him.
    “The council
members are using glamour to hide themselves,” Gregory replied to her