“My personal desire is to see the sabbat continue as it has been. I once made a vow to honor freedom for captives during Mabon. I plan to keep doing so, whatever it takes.”
“The Fates’ motives are unimportant at the moment,” Munsola said. “Anduron is right. With the sabbat at hand, time grows short to resolve our dilemma.”
“We need another witness,” Sandovar replied. “One who will be open to participating without having a say on the chosen captive.”
“If they are willing, Rathmar said.
“We would not be able to consult the Fates,” Veramus said. “What if something ill befalls the next witness?”
“The chances of that happening twice would be nil,” Herne said. “And as the Fates have proven themselves fallible, either by accident or design, we will fare no worse by moving forward with another choice.”
“Then let us choose,” Sandovar said. “We have the list of prospective candidates from which the witness was selected. Anduron can visit the others until he finds one willing to approve his offering.”
“You make it sound as though I saved a dragon with three heads,” Anduron said. “Human females are not without sympathy for the suffering of others. I am sure one of them will approve of my sparing a little old lady.”
“You forget that the prospectives are chosen based on one important factor,” Rathmar said. “Each has a personal stake in one who is unjustly imprisoned. That is who they invariably choose.”
“Would they rejoice in a rescue granted another when their own still suffers in bondage?” Veramus asked.
“New prospectives are needed, ones who do not have their own stake,” Evenor said. “We could prepare a new list.”
“But we have so little time,” Rathmar said.
Anduron straightened. “Then perhaps the witness should be one who already has a stake in the one I freed.”
“You rescued a frail old crone,” Veramus said. “You mean to bed her?”
“No. There was a girl. A granddaughter.”
Herne frowned. “You mentioned nothing of a girl.”
“When I escorted the woman home, her granddaughter was there waiting for her. It did not seem relevant, until now.”
Herne’s gaze narrowed.
“She seemed quite grateful for her grandmother’s rescue,” Anduron went on. “I am sure she would agree to ratify the offering.”
“And bed you in exchange,” Herne said. “Tell me, son of my loins. How comely is this girl?”
“It would not matter if she had the skin of a dragon and the breath of a skunk,” Anduron said. “We need a quick answer, and I have one. Allow me to take my leave, and I shall cross realms to present my request. I am confident we will have this resolved by day’s end.”
The men looked at one another, except for Herne. His brows were knitted as he stared off into space, appearing lost in thought.
“Are any opposed to Anduron’s plan?” Rathmar asked, glancing around.
“The idea is sound enough,” Veramus said. “But might I suggest we seek alternates should this girl reject him.”
“She will agree,” Anduron said. “It was her own kin that was spared.”
“Go, then,” Rathmar said. “Approach her with your offer. But I concur with Veramus. We will select others if we are able, just in case.”
Anduron left the chamber with purpose to his steps. The greater ethics involved in his sabbat might still be looming, but when had they ever not been? The rest of the matter would be easy to fix now. Just one quick visit to Jenna and he would be back on track.
***
Jenna punched at her pillow, trying to get it to conform to her will. It resisted, hanging on to its lumpy contours. She really needed to get around to buying a few essentials, but she’d barely had time to settle into the guest cottage. Her days were largely occupied by work and helping out Gran. Nights, however, were another matter. Long, often lonely, and sometimes greatly lacking in sleep, nighttime had become that regretful portion of the day where she tossed and turned while reviewing the ever-increasing items on her to-do list. Tonight’s list had expanded quite a bit, what with the addition of her new boarder.
The puppy would need a collar and tags, at least for the time being. A dog bed would be too much, but she could perhaps scrounge up some old towels or a blanket for bedding. He’d need a few toys, nothing extravagant, and things to chew on besides Jenna’s slippers and throw rugs. Then there was dog shampoo, for smelly dog was not an acceptable scent in her new place.
She hadn’t mentioned the puppy to her grandmother yet. The woman had been asleep when she’d gotten home. Besides, Gran had enough excitement for one day. There was a loose no-pets rule they had agreed upon, one that had been quickly brushed off by Jenna’s assurances she had no intention of keeping any. She got her fill of animals small and large by working at the clinic.
A whimper sounded from the bathroom again, and Jenna sighed. The puppy was lonely and quite put out at being shut inside the bathroom with newspapers on the floor. A stuffed bear hadn’t worked. Neither had a ticking clock or the radio.
The whimper soon turned to a series of pitiful cries, and Jenna caved. She got up and shuffled to the bathroom, where she scooped the puppy into her arms.
“Now don’t think this is going to be a habit,” she told him while the pair faced themselves in the mirror. She made him wave at his reflection with his tiny paw. “It’s just for tonight. I’ve got to get some sleep. And I can’t have you waking up Gran before I’ve even told her about you.”
The puppy’s entire backside wagged side to side while she brought him into her room and shut the door. Putting the dog in bed beside her was out of the question. Her big old four-poster was too high off the ground, and if he fell, he could get hurt. Besides, he wasn’t house trained. A quick rummage through her dresser produced her old college sweatshirt, which she arranged in a soft bundle on the floor beside her bed. She set the puppy in the middle of it and pushed his bottom gently.
“Now lay down,” she said. “It’s time for sleep.”
She climbed under her blankets and leaned over the edge. The puppy got up and put his front paws on the side of the bed, wagging his tail and reaching up to sniff at her.
“Down, Anduron,” she said, pointing at the bed. “We can play tomorrow.”
Three more gentle nudges gave him the idea, and after a little while of exploring the room with his nose to the floor, he came back to the sweatshirt, circled around a few times, and laid down with a giant yawn.
“Finally,” Jenna said, closing her eyes. She left one of the bedside lamps on so she would remember not to step on her new charge during the night.
It seemed like only a short time had gone by before her brain registered a shift in the room. The air suddenly seemed heavier, like the hour before a storm. She was lying on her back, her arm over her head, and as always, she had kicked her covers down by her feet. The rock band night shirt she wore hung just below mid-thigh, but she had a weird sense that she was too exposed.
With a gasp, she sat straight up and stared at the foot of the bed. He stood there in robes of rust and orange, staring at her with an unreadable expression and those glowing silver and gold eyes.
“Anduron,” she said, putting a hand on her chest. “You scared me to death. How did you get in here?”
“The same way I left you earlier.” He held up the pendant that shimmered with ethereal light. “This allows me travel between realms.”
She grabbed the covers and pulled them over her. “Haven’t you heard of knocking?”
“This is where the pendant brought me when I focused my thoughts on you. It is not always quite so precise.”
She eyed him. “You’re not really an angel, are you?”
“I told your grandmother as much. But as you have obviously guessed, I am not human.”
“So what, then, an alien?”
“I am the god of Mabon.”
“Mabon. Is that some planet
I’ve never heard of?”
“It is one of the pagan sabbat holidays. A time of thanksgiving and freedom.”
She sat straighter, pressing herself against the headboard. “You’re a pagan god?”
He nodded.
“As in a god. Immortal. I could shoot you and you would still be standing there.”
“Please do not.”
Her head felt light. “And you just happened to pop in to save my grandmother? Are there more of you? Are you all superheroes?”
He raised his hands. “I understand this comes as something of a shock.”
“That’s an understatement. For all of Gran’s talk about angels, I never even believed in that supernatural stuff.” She sat forward. “Wait. Are angels real too?”
“Quite. But immortals do not reveal ourselves to humans very often. Not anymore.”
She shook her head, taking a moment to let things sink in. Sure, she knew he’d been more than human, what with vanishing into thin air. But a pagan god? What did he want with her?
“You said you were focusing your thoughts on me,” she said. “But I’m not even a pagan. What are you doing here?”
“I needed to speak with you. I apologize for the hour, but this could not wait.” He glanced down and frowned. “What is this?”
She peered over the foot of her bed and grinned. “That’s the puppy I rescued today. I think he wants to check out his namesake.”
“Namesake?”
The dog was circling in and around Anduron’s feet, sniffing the suede boots, tail going a mile a minute.
“Here, Anduron,” she said, slapping her thigh. “Come on, boy. The god of Mabon doesn’t want to trip over you.”
When the dog didn’t respond, she lunged over the edge and snapped him up, swallowing hard when her hand brushed the god’s muscled, immortal leg in doing so. She sat back with the puppy squirming in her lap and glanced up to find Anduron regarding her with a sharp look.
“You have named a dog after me?” he asked.
She offered a guilty shrug. “Rescuing him made me think of how you saved my grandmother. I was inspired.” At the look on the god’s face she added, “I suppose I could call him Andy for short. It’s only a temporary name, anyway. I’m just putting him up here until the rescue shelter finds him a home.”
His expression softened. “You saved him? In what manner?”
“He was being taken to an awful place that tortures animals. I grabbed his cage and ran. I couldn’t help myself.” She rubbed Andy, making long strokes from his silky head down to the tail. She looked up at Anduron. “A god like you probably thinks that’s silly.”
His brows lifted. “On the contrary. I am...impressed.” He took a breath, expanding his already broad chest. “And this makes me even more certain that you are the right person to call upon as the witness.”
“Witness? What did I witness?”
“As god of the Mabon, it is my duty to engage in a ritual to honor the sabbat. Part of that ritual involves freeing one who has been unjustly imprisoned.”
“I think I like this ritual already.” She bent over and kissed the puppy on the head. “Don’t we? Yes we do. We like it a lot.” When she looked up from her baby talk at the dog, the god’s eyebrows were lifted high.
Anduron gave a single nod. “Indeed. I was on my way to a witness to gain her consent to free the prisoner of her choice when I heard an old woman’s cry of distress.”
“Gran. So you got delayed when you stopped to help her.”
“More than that. I am granted a special key once per year that is imbued with sanctioned power to release a captive. I used that key to aid your grandmother, thus making her the official freedom offering for Mabon.”
“And you want me to witness that? How can I, when I wasn’t even there?”
“You need not physically watch the event unfold. You merely need to name her as your offering and bear witness that the deed has been performed.”
Jenna pushed back a strand of hair. “Oh! That’s no problem at all. Of course I’ll name her.”
He heaved a sigh of relief, and the smile that lit his face also sent tingles through her stomach. When he came around and sat down at her bedside, her entire body shot through with a jolt. She scooted over to make room for him and put a little distance between their bodies. Andy, having no such compunction about physical contact with a virile god, squiggled out of her lap and plodded over to Anduron, sniffing at his robes.
Anduron gave the dog a wry grin and took Jenna’s hand. “You have no idea how grateful I am to hear this. My decision to use the key prior to the witness naming a selected offering has caused quite a stir in my realm. Ratifying my deed will ease the minds of the counsel.”
“You’re grateful? I’m the one who’s grateful. I don’t even want to think about what could have happened to Gran if you hadn’t been there.” She smiled back at him and squeezed his hand. “Consider me your witness girl. It’s the least I can do for my grandmother’s hero.”
As their gazes held, the little flips in her stomach turned to giant somersaults. His eyes smoldered in a way she wasn’t used to seeing from a man, and not just because they were so silvery-gold and foreign.
He gently lifted the puppy and set him down on the floor. “There is another aspect of the ritual in which the witness takes part.”
“Okay. Name it. Anything at all.”
Anduron leaned closer, too close, supporting himself by reaching across her thighs and planting his palm on the mattress. “There is a celebration of thanks that takes place after freeing the offering. It is a joining of male and female to revel in victory over imprisonment, bounty over lack, and life over death. It embodies the balance between our worlds, united, but separate.”
Her heart was sputtering, and she stiffened with him so close. Her brain was short-circuiting, making it hard to follow what he was trying to say.
“Joining of male and female?” she asked. “What sort of joining?”
His stare intensified. “A carnal union.”
She pushed his arm aside and got up, nearly stepping on the dog that was exploring that side of the bed. “You’re asking me to sleep with you, just like that? Are you out of your mind?”
Anduron rose and rounded the bed. “Not now. On the sabbat. It will become a symbolic ritual of release and thanksgiving.”
He reached out to push strands of hair out of her face, but Jenna grabbed his wrist, stopping him from tucking hair behind her ear. “You’re seriously asking me to have sex with you to show how thankful I am that you saved my grandmother? Do you even hear yourself right now?”
He glanced down at the grip she had on his arm, and she let go. “To the victor goes the spoils.”
She made a face. “I’m not a prize to be won in battle. If this was the reason you helped her, you wasted your time.”
“It is not the reason. I did not even know she had a granddaughter. She required assistance, and I granted it. Even knowing what I was risking.”
Jenna cocked her head. “What risk? You’re immortal, and those thugs were human.”
“The risk was from my own realm. Immortals are under strict laws regarding interference in the matters of humans. I would be facing sanctions right now had I not been in possession of the key, the artifact that allowed me to act on behalf of one human.”
“So you’re not allowed to help people unless it’s to justify your Mabon sex orgy?” She shook her head. “I take back what I said. I don’t like your ritual at all.”
His eyes narrowed. “You treat me and my sabbat with scorn? I am granted a power allowed no other immortal. I free those who do not deserve captivity.”
“Once a year. One gesture when so many need help.” She picked up Andy and nuzzled his soft fur against her face. “I rescued this dog, but I’m not going around talking about how great it was and asking for favors in return. You know why?”
Anduron shook his head.
“Because while I am grateful that I s
aved him, I’m upset that there are others still in cages. They all deserved freedom.”
He regarded her for a moment, then reached out to offer his hand to the dog. Andy licked at his fingers. “The fact that others remain imprisoned does not negate your actions with this one. It is not an all-or-none task. One small gesture can alter the course of destinies.” He rubbed the puppy’s head. “If you had decided it was not good enough to save this one creature, what would have become of him? You have lessened suffering by your willingness to take small measures. Imagine if even one-quarter of the people in your world all vowed to do the same.”
She glanced at the puppy, warm and soft against her chest. Andy’s eyes were closed, his snout lifted while he accepted Anduron’s petting. He had no care in the world now, happy and safe.
“Maybe you’re right,” she said. “Any positive action, no matter how small, is at least a step in the right direction.” She looked up to find him watching her. “But that doesn’t mean we shouldn’t want to end suffering on a larger scale.”
“No. But why not allow ourselves to acknowledge small victories we achieve along the way, even if only for a brief, shining moment?”
She pictured having a brief, shining moment with Anduron, and her nipples stiffened. There was a tension between them, a chemistry that couldn’t be denied. But if he wanted to take her to bed, it shouldn’t be because he believed she owed it to him.
She took in a breath. “I don’t have a problem with shining moments, if you want to call it that. What I do have a problem with is your proposition that I sleep with you for saving Gran. I don’t give out sexual favors as payment.”
“That is not what this is.”
“Isn’t it? I find it rather mercenary that you want sex in exchange for heroism.”
His brows knitted. “After winning a worthy cause, celebration is often held with food, drink, and carnal merriment. Can you not see it that way, rather than cheapening the ritual by claiming I view it as due compensation?”
Her chest tightened. “I am grateful to you. Really. But I don’t even know you. Many women leverage their bodies for favors, but I’m not wired that way. I don’t treat sex so casual.” Even if parts of her were throbbing at his proximity.
Anduron: God of Mabon (Sons of Herne, #7) Page 4