Read Online Sorceress Awakening by Lisa Blackwood - Free Book Online Page B

she didn’t open her eyes—there was something dancing at the edge of her
consciousness, something she didn’t want to acknowledge or remember.
    She squeezed her eyes tight and wiggled
closer to the heat, determined to recapture the mindless oblivion of sleep.
Another scent crawled across her senses and seeped into her mind like a drug,
one reminiscent of wild places and the pleasant musky warmth of a purely male
being—the scent of gargoyle.
    She froze. Memories of the last day
wouldn’t be denied and came crashing down upon her peaceful world. Muscles
taunt with tension, she cautiously opened her eyes—to an expanse of dark skin
stretched over a defined, muscular chest. A heavy weight was slung across her
shoulders, preventing her from sitting up, and something else with the grace of
a two-by-four held her lower legs imprisoned. Five minutes’ worth of wiggling,
and the gargoyle’s arm was down almost to her waist. Being careful not to shake
the bed, she sat up.
    The two-by-four turned out to be his tail.
There was an eight-foot gargoyle occupying her bed. Tramping down rising panic,
she did a quick survey of the bedroom. Her robe lay on the other side of the
room, tossed over the back of her reading chair next to the antique oak
dresser. With a new goal firmly in her sights, she held the panic at bay a
little longer.
    After several more minutes of slow cautious
wiggling, she was out from under the gargoyle’s wings. A few more deep calming
breaths, and she inched off the bed in slow motion. Her bare feet touched the
floor. Her new bedmate hadn’t so much as stirred a talon. Fear made her breath
shallow and rapid. She bolted for the robe in a mad dash. In under ten seconds
flat she had the robe clutched in one hand and she’d reversed course for the
door.
    She reached the old walnut door, a gate to
sanctuary, the way to freedom. But she did not turn the knob. Poised, frozen
between moments, she was unable to decide which way to go.
    Whatever was on the other side of the door
was just as much the unknown as the big beastie sleeping in her bed. Worse,
perhaps. The gargoyle had never lied to her, which was more than she could say
about her family. For years they had hidden all this from her. Magic. Of all
things, magic existed.
    She needed answers. Perhaps then the chaos
of the last day would order itself into something resembling a normal life.
    Ten feet away, sleeping soundly in her bed,
was someone fully capable of answering her questions. All she had to do was
confront him.
    Determination flowing in her blood, she
spun around and faced the bed. The great, lumpy mound under the comforter was
still there, the whole mass rising and falling in the slow, relaxed rhythm of
sleep. How long had she slept next to the big eight-foot monster, with his
massive talons that could have torn her apart? Even as she thought it, that
older foreign part of her spirit knew he would never harm her—not even in his
sleep.
    Indecision held her rooted in place for
several more seconds. Then curiosity and that strange, fierce need to be near
him reared its head and overruled wisdom. Instead of running away, she slid one
foot ahead of the other until she stood at the end of the bed.
    The opportunity was too tempting to resist.
After a moment’s consideration about the foolhardiness of what she was about to
do, she tugged the comforter off the bed in one slow pull and reached out with
shaking fingers.
    Keeping her touch light so he wouldn’t
wake, she slid her fingertips along warm skin. The deep rise and fall of his
chest confirmed he still slept deeply, too exhausted to have heard her get up
or to notice the comforter’s lack. He was curled in a fetal position, his tail
tucked around him like a cat—the biggest damned cat she’d ever encountered. It
was nice studying him while he slept. He seemed less scary that way.
    Even curled on his side, his eight-foot
frame dwarfed the king-sized bed. One massive wing stretched out behind